Perry had found his true calling that night in the fiery furnace, and his ministry began to thrive. Chairs were set up under awnings in the park just down the road from the burnt-out shell of Barrington Church, and he conducted church services there, baptizing many in an improvised baptismal font. The townspeople vowed to rebuild the church, brick by brick, dollar by dollar.
The volunteer fire department also gained, finding in Perry a willing fireman and a great softball player.
Archibald Thacker vowed to stop trafficking in moonshine. It was quite a surprise to his four sons, who'd inherited his love for moneymaking, and to Sammy. But Archibald knew that the church wouldn't have been destroyed if there had been water in that baptismal font, and it shook him more deeply than he'd let on that someone might have been badly hurt or even killed. Money wasn't worth that, he decided. His sons tried to protest, but Archibald put his foot down firmly. There would be no more moonshine for the Thackers.
For Sammy and the Tynans, the changes were hugely life-changing. Tolliver Tynan was arrested and charged with embezzling thousands of dollars of the church's money. Percy Queen never stole a dollar for himself, so he wasn't charged. After the initial shock, Tolliver took it in stride, counting as usual on his charm, family's reputation, and future inheritance to get him off the hook. So what came next was a big surprise.
On the second day of the trial Georgia vs. Tynan, after all the opening speeches had been made and various insurance agents had testified to the lack of insurance money and various church members had testified to the fact that there should be insurance money, Lawyer Heinman for the Prosecution called his last witness.
"The State calls Sammy Ayers to the stand."
The audience erupted incredulously. Some, like Norm, Lucille, and Tallasy, were astonished and not sure what to think. Some, like Mrs. Tynan, were indignant—how dare they make a mockery of this trial?—what could Sammy add to it?—he probably didn't even know what embezzlement was. Some, like Tolliver, were frankly amused and began to laugh in derision. Only Archibald Thacker understood the significance of this, and his great laugh was one of triumph. So Sammy was going to speak at last. What ironic justice for Tolliver and his cherry bombs!
The doors opened, and Sammy walked in with his quiet stride. Everything he did was done with an air of quietness. He took his seat, and his eyes met the accused's. Tolliver was still laughing, his face more clearly mocking Sammy than it ever had before. Sammy's look had something different in it, though. It wasn't the blank, questioning look, nor the air of being in his own world. It was a look that told Tolliver once and for all that Sammy was a man of complete mental ability and cognizance.
The bailiff brought a Bible to the stand and motioned for Sammy to put one hand on it and raised the other. "Do you swear," she enunciated clearly, "to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
Sammy hesitated, and Thacker leaned forward intently. Could he do it? After twenty years of silence, twenty years of listening and never responding, twenty years of pretense become habit and second nature, could he bring himself to do it? Sammy knew that this would mean the end of many things, especially of his simple, quiet life in Barrington, but one thing he remembered was his mom telling him that you didn't go back on your word. If you agreed to do something, you did it. Sammy opened his mouth…
To his knowledge, this was the only trial in the history of American jurisprudence that was over in just two spoken words. Never had two words so utterly galvanized the entire population of a town as did the words Sammy Ayers spoke in just the kind of quiet, gentle voice you would have expected him to have: "I—I do."
The audience gave a collective gasp. Thacker threw back his head and laughed again. Norm's eyes nearly started out of his head, and Lucille's hand squeezed his arm compulsively. Harvey choked and thought, aghast, I knew that boy wasn't deaf the first time I saw him. Perry broke into a delighted grin and glanced up to Heaven with a prayer of thanks for this further sign. Maddie Tynan fainted, and Percy Queen came close to doing the same.
Tallasy stared at Sammy with huge eyes, and into her mind flashed everything she'd ever told him. He knows! He knows everything I've said! And somehow, as astonishing as that was, she realized she didn't mind. In fact, she was glad.
The first thought in Tolliver's mind was, I knew it! That day, back when he threw the cherry bomb, he'd known the kid getting all the attention wasn't deaf. Fury flared up—fury that Sammy had been able to convince him, to fool him. And he remembered all the times he'd abused Sammy and realized that that vaguely smug look that had always lurked in Sammy's eyes had been amusement at him—at Tolliver Tynan. And then he remembered with horror all the things he'd said in Sammy's vicinity, all the times he hadn't been discrete, and he knew it was over. Sammy Ayers had bested Tolliver Tynan—had bested him every moment of every day of the last twenty years.