Jimmy

by Robert Whitlow

  He stepped from the trees into the clearing created by the water. The surface of the pond was pocked by tiny circles as fish caught the early morning insects that skated across the water. Lee turned left and walked toward the small end of the pond. He saw a yellow ribbon tied to the end of a tree limb. He reached the far side of the pond, stopped, and looked toward the grove where he’d parked his car.

  “God, where is he?” he asked.

  It was a simple prayer, a simple request. No answer came.

  He continued toward the dam. Reaching it, he stopped and stared into murky water. He looked away from the pond and saw something red in the grass. He walked over to investigate. It was a cap. When he reached it, his heart skipped.

  “No,” he said as he leaned over to pick it up. “Please, no!”

  It was Jimmy’s Ready Kilowatt cap.

  THE SEARCH TEAM FOUND THE BICYCLE IN A MATTER OF minutes. Lee kept Ellen in the parking area, but when she heard the workers call out that they’d found a bicycle, she broke away and ran toward the dam. When she saw that it was Jimmy’s bike, she collapsed on the ground and buried her face in her hands.

  Lee and Deputy Askew guided her away from the scene. She tried to protest, but there was no strength in her to resist. They took her toward an ambulance where medics waited.

  “They’ve found the body!” a voice cried out.

  Ellen turned toward the dam and tried to break free. Lee and Askew restrained her.

  “No, Ellen,” Lee pleaded. “Not like this.”

  “Jimmy!” Ellen wailed. “No!”

  She continued to cry out for her son. The body was quickly pulled from the water and wrapped in a white sheet. Medical personnel rushed the body to an ambulance parked near the dam. Lee stood beside his wife in stunned silence. The ambulance drove quickly away from the pond.

  “Let them take care of him,” Lee managed. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

  ELLEN AND LEE RETURNED HOME. LEE CALLED HIS MOTHER and contacted the funeral home. He hung up the phone. Ellen sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. Shock had temporarily dried her tears.

  “There’s another call that can’t wait,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “Vera. She deserves to know before anyone else.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Whatever she did in the past won’t disqualify her grief. She has the right to share our sorrow.”

  THE STREAM OF VISITORS TO THE FUNERAL HOME FINALLY began to taper off. Ellen had made a display of photographs and other personal items from Jimmy’s room and placed it on a table beside the closed casket. The pictures followed Jimmy’s life from beginning to end: coming home from the hospital with Vera and Lee, celebrating Christmas, eating cake in a high chair, riding his Big Wheel, going to school for the first time, fishing with Grandpa, bringing home Buster, riding his bike, climbing the pole, and standing with the football team. Included in the photographs was Vera holding Jimmy in the hospital. Jimmy’s Ready Kilowatt cap occupied one corner of the display, and one from the University of Georgia anchored the other. In the middle of the photos was Jimmy’s verse in his own handwriting—Behold, I make all things new.

  Lee looked at Ellen. “I’m beat,” he said.

  Ellen looked past his shoulder toward the entrance to the room.

  “She’s here.”

  Lee turned around. Vera and Lonnie Horton stood beside the guest register. Lee walked over to them. Ellen stayed beside the casket.

  “Lee, I’m so very sorry,” Vera said.

  “Come see,” Lee said.

  Ellen stepped aside so Vera could see the pictures. When she saw the one that included her, tears began to stream down her cheeks. She turned to Ellen.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said when she regained her composure.

  “Jimmy kept the picture in his room. He would want it here. He had no ill feelings toward you.”

  Vera stepped forward and hugged Ellen. “Thank you for loving him when I didn’t know how to,” she said.

  Ellen wiped her eyes with a tissue clutched in her left hand. “Yes, I loved him with my whole heart.”

  “And that’s something no one can take away from you,” Vera said. “I wanted to get to know him, but he will always be your son. Please forgive me for the pain I caused—”

  “No,” Ellen said. “That’s not necessary now. We’re in this together.”

  FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH HAD STANDING-ROOM ONLY FOR Jimmy Mitchell’s funeral. For the second time in as many months, the Mitchell family occupied the mourners’ pew at the front of the church. Vera and her family sat behind them.

  Tall, strong, and full of promise for the future, Max Cochran spoke of his friend.

  “Jimmy had a funny way of saying things that at first seemed wrong but usually turned out to be right. Over the past few days, I’ve realized that he had a lot of wisdom. When I finish my education, I hope that I’m as smart about the things that matter as he was.”

  Max looked down at the pulpit for a second.

  “Jimmy was the most unselfish person I’ve ever known. He would have done anything in the world to help me. The fact that he wanted to help me taught me a lot. When I faced a problem or a situation that seemed too big for me, I often thought about all that he had to overcome. And he did it with a smile on his face.

  “I will never forget him,” Max said, his voice cracking. Pointing to his heart, he concluded, “Jimmy will always live in here.”

  Brother Fitzgerald compared Jimmy to Nathanael, in whom Jesus found no guile.

  “Jimmy was a pure light with a refreshing view of life. I had the privilege of leading him to salvation, and his simple faith was an inspiration to us all. Piney Grove has suffered a great loss.”

  They buried Jimmy beside Grandpa.

  “THEY WILL BE COMFORTED,” JIMMY SAID. “IT IS ONE OF THE promises for those who mourn.”

  Grandpa stood beside him. “And one day they will join us here, where every tear is wiped away.”

  The goodness of God swept over them, and their spirits soared in gratitude.

  LEE USHERED DETECTIVE MILLIGAN INTO HIS OFFICE AND closed the door.

  “What have you found?” Lee asked.

  “It wasn’t an accident.”

  Lee closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Someone tried to burn down the house in the woods. Much of it was destroyed, but the bathroom was intact. We found Jimmy’s prints all over the sink.”

  “He took him to the house,” Lee said flatly.

  “Yes, and kept him there for a while. I’m guessing the hunters snooping around caused him to leave and go to the pond. He intended all along to make it look like an accident. We’ve issued an arrest warrant for Garner. We’ll get him.”

  “And the bookie?”

  “Not yet identified. There are several possibilities. The state authorities are working on it. He may be going underground for a while.”

  Lee was silent for a second. “Telling Ellen is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

  Lee and Ellen sat in the living room while he told her about his conversation with Detective Milligan. She sat quietly and didn’t interrupt.

  “This isn’t a surprise,” she said when he finished. “I knew Jimmy didn’t ride his bike to the pond on his own. It didn’t fit with anything I knew about him.”

  Lee stared down at the floor. “And I don’t know how to ask your forgiveness about representing Garner. You warned me that he was trouble, but I was so headstrong and proud of what I did that I was blind to the danger he posed to my family. I know words are hollow but—”

  “Stop,” she said. “I’ve had to work through that as well. I’ve been through every emotion imaginable, but in the end, I can’t blame you for what Garner did. It wouldn’t be right and would dishonor Jimmy’s memory. If he could speak to me no
w, I know what he would say.” Ellen reached out and took his hands in hers. “Lee, I forgive you. We can’t be divided. We need to go on together.”

  Lee looked up with tears glistening in his eyes.

  “Thank you,” he managed.

  JAKE GARNER WAS APPREHENDED AT A USED-CAR LOT IN Dothan, Alabama, when he tried to trade in his pickup. He returned to Piney Grove in handcuffs and leg irons. Steve Laney announced his intention to seek the death penalty, and two lawyers from Carroll County were appointed to represent the snake man. A motion to transfer the case from Cattaloochie County was pending when Garner’s lawyers offered to plead guilty in return for life in prison without parole and cooperation in any prosecutions against the bookie who hired him.

  “I’ll leave it up to you,” Laney told Lee and Ellen. “No matter where we try the case, I believe we have a good shot at getting death.”

  “Take the offer,” Lee said.

  Ellen nodded. “Yes. Jimmy wouldn’t want him to die.”

  THE DAY GARNER WAS SENTENCED, LEE LEFT THE COURTROOM and went to his mother’s house.

  “It’s done,” he told her. “Life without parole.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Empty. Totally empty.”

  Lee left the kitchen and went to the backyard. He walked slowly across the grass until he stood at the base of the power pole. He looked up at the white marks that memorialized his son’s determination. Jimmy made it to the top of the pole, but Lee knew that wasn’t his real accomplishment. Lee had heard the truth many times over the past weeks—Jimmy’s success lay not in what he did, but in who he was. Lee rested his hand against the pole and bowed his head.

  “God, please fill this empty place. Whatever Jimmy had that I don’t, please give it to me. I want to be more like my son.” He paused. “I want to be more like your Son.”

  ELLEN CLOSED THE DOOR TO JIMMY’S ROOM. HIS HATS remained on the shelves, his clothes in the closet, his handwritten promise that God would make all things new reattached to his bulletin board. On days when she felt particularly sad, she would go into the room to seek a reminder of a happier time. She also devoted herself to Buster. Without Jimmy in their lives, woman and dog bonded with each other. Many afternoons Ellen would throw tennis balls across the yard as long as Buster wanted to retrieve them.

  ON THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF JIMMY’S DEATH, LEE AND Ellen went to the cemetery. It was a hot day, and they waited until late afternoon. No one else was present. They found a fresh bouquet of flowers from Vera Horton lying on top of the tombstone. Ellen put one of Jimmy’s caps beside the flowers.

  “I still think about him every day, but the ache is easing,” she said. “I’m ready to clean out his room. It’s the next step.”

  “What will you do with his things?”

  “Give away the clothes, keep a few hats, and box up some of his personal things. I’d like to put his Bible verse in a frame and hang it on the wall in the kitchen.”

  They stood side by side without speaking, each one traveling the road of personal thoughts. Lee broke the silence. He spoke slowly.

  “Ellen, I don’t want to rush you, but I’ve been talking to a social worker who oversees the child foster care program. To care for another child, even on a temporary basis, could be part of our healing.”

  Ellen faced him.

  “No. I mean, uh, I don’t think I could do something like that. A child who isn’t my own—” She stopped, understanding what she had just said.

  Lee took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “I’m not trying to force you to do anything, but there is a five-year-old girl with mental limitations who needs a loving home.”

  “What kind of limitations?”

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle. I’ve reviewed her file. She’s a sweet girl who doesn’t get bored doing repetitive tasks. She likes to color but only uses green and red. Her favorite picture is a forest of red trees in a sea of green grass. Considering her age, it was amazing how carefully she drew each leaf.”

  “Why doesn’t she use more colors?”

  “I’m not sure; she may not have many crayons. Her parents left her with relatives nine months ago and haven’t come back to claim her. The social worker tracked down the parents, but they didn’t want her and abandoned her to the State. Some of her limitations may be more the result of poor environment than true cognitive deficiencies. Her diet hasn’t been good, and no one has given her the attention needed to stimulate mental and social development. She needs love.”

  Ellen didn’t say anything for several seconds.

  “Have you met this child?” she asked.

  “Yes. She has curly dark hair, blue eyes, and a dimple in her left cheek.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Nichole, but they call her Nikki.”

  “Nikki,” Ellen repeated.

  “IS THERE ROOM IN HER HEART TO LOVE ANOTHER?” GRANDPA asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Jimmy answered. “More than enough.”

  — Acknowledgments —

  My wife, Kathy, is my greatest source of human inspiration and practical encouragement. Thanks to Allen Arnold, publisher of Thomas Nelson Fiction, who worked with me more as a friend and adviser than as a business partner. Ami McConnell, Traci Depree, and Erin Healy contributed their extraordinary gifts to the editing process. Special thanks to Hal Jenkins for his advice on pole climbing technique.

  I also honor the memory of my father, Ancil U. Whitlow, who worked many years for the Georgia Power Company. He would have enjoyed this book.

  READ THE ALTERNATE ENDING FOR

  Jimmy

  AVAILABLE ONLY AT

  www.robertwhitlow.com!

  NOW AVAILABLE

  ALso available

  Now a major

  motion picture!

  Find out more at

  www.thelist-themovie.com

  The LIST

  Discover More at RobertWhitlow.com

  News of his father’s death and a secret inheritance tied to a clandestine society promises to change Renny Jacobson’s life forever. How could he know that his life and the life of the woman he loves depend on supernatural deliverance from the curse of The List?

  ALso available

  The TRIaL

  After a horrific accident kills his wife and sons, Mac MacClain feels spiritually empty. Defending Peter Thomason, the accused killer of a local heiress, brings Mac back into action only to face his own conscience—is he defending a psychopath who deserves the death penalty? Or has Thomason been framed?

  The

  sacRIfIce

  When a teenage racist is charged in a local shooting, attorney Scott Ellis agrees to defend him. Ultimately, the stakes are much higher than he imagines, and the survival of many lives hinges on an unexpected sacrifice.

  Discover More at RobertWhitlow.com

  ALso available

  LIFE

  SUPPORT

  A tragic accident in the Carolina mountains leaves a young man paralyzed and in a coma. In the ensuing legal battle, a young female attorney discovers that this man isn’t the only one in need of life-saving measures. In true Whitlow fashion, this story delves into the power of faith against seemingly impossible odds.

  LIfE

  EVERLasting

  The mystery grows around Baxter Richardson’s near-fatal cliff dive, as the power of faith to bring healing through music is severely tested. Find out more in Robert Whitlow’s legal thriller, Life Everlasting, the much anticipated sequel to Life Support.

  Discover More at RobertWhitlow.com

  AN EXCERPT FROM THE LIST

  “I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing:

  therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.”

  DEUTERONOMY 30:19, KJV

  Georgetown, South Carolina, November 30, 1863

  THE OLD MAN PUSHED open the front door of the inn against the force of the coming storm. Slamming the door behind him, the wind’s hand caught hi
s long white beard and whipped it over his shoulder. Leaning forward, he swayed slightly as he crossed the broad porch and slowly descended the weathered wooden steps. He wrapped his cloak tightly around him and pulled his black hat down over his head.

  He had feared the group assembled inside would not heed his words. Five years before the first shot was fired on Fort Sumter he began warning all who would listen of the coming conflict:

  “Then the Lord said unto me, Out of the north an evil shall break forth upon all the inhabitants of the land. . . . And I will utter my judgments against them, touching all their wickedness, who have forsaken me, and have burned incense unto other gods, and worshiped the works of their own hands.”

  Now, the sound of Lee’s army retreating from Gettysburg had reached their ears. It didn’t require a prophet’s vision to see into the future. Judgment was coming. But rather than repenting in the face of wrath, men of power and influence met in Georgetown to save Babylon, not to come out of her.

  Because of age and respect he was invited. And he came, not to join them but to warn them. Waiting until their frantic voices stilled, he spoke with all the strength and fervor his spirit could muster. Then, standing in front of a portrait of a stern-faced John C. Calhoun, he delivered a clear, impassioned call: “Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

  Layne and Jacobson had wavered, hesitant to reject completely the words of one they had called sir since first learning to talk. Others sat in silence; a few mocked. He overheard Eicholtz whisper to Johnston that the old man looked more like a scarecrow than a planter. But in the end, LaRochette’s smooth speech prevailed. No brands were plucked from the fire—all took the oath; all signed but him.