The List

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The List Page 39

by Robert Whitlow


  Yes, he was a fool. If he had a sensible bone in his body, he would leave, drive to the nearest airport, and fly to Michigan as soon as possible. He had been deceived once into thinking he could destroy the power of the List. Where had it landed him? In jail with a felony conviction. Now he was about to make an even greater blunder. After all, he was only one man. How could he be so deceived about his capabilities?

  In a softer, less strident tone, the voice urged, “Your place is beside Jo. She needs you.” Of course. What could be more important than being with the woman he loved? He started to turn around.

  But his legs didn’t move. Trying to clear the fog that surrounded him, he shook his head and took a deep breath. He needed to sort this out.

  What about the verses he’d read hours before in A. L.’s office? The call? His response? The strength and confidence that had entered his spirit? The power of the Scriptures? The affirmation from A. L.? What was real? This or that? Where did his destiny lie? What would happen if he cut and ran?

  “Be safe,” the dark voice responded.

  Renny closed his eyes and through clenched teeth, whispered, “Jesus.” It was all he could think to say.

  At the mention of the Name, a tiny spark of light flickered to life in his heart. He watched, wishing he could cup his hands around it to protect it. Surely it would be snuffed out by the swirling darkness. But as he watched, it grew. And with each passing moment, the expanding light relentlessly drove back the fearful blackness that moments before had threatened to engulf him and cause him to flee. As the light increased, his confidence rekindled, too.

  Then he felt the power of the Word push in past the barrier of his consciousness. It was different from the experience at A. L.’s office. More immediate. More present. At his core he felt a stirring, an awareness, a pressure. It built; it grew. Another shudder ran through his body. But instead of opening the door to fear, this time the involuntary movement shook off the remaining barnacles of fear. Instead of fear, faith rose in his heart. The light swelled. Resolve returned. The darkness fled.

  Strength to face the future entered him, and when he commanded his legs to move forward, they obeyed. An unseen confirming hand gently rested on his shoulder, and he didn’t look back. There was no turning back. He climbed the steps to the porch and opened the front door.

  LaRochette called the 249th meeting of the List to order in the cozy dining room. The waiters served the meal and retired to the kitchen. Two fresh bottles of dinner wine made the rounds of empty glasses. Between mouthfuls, Weiss made a poor attempt at telling a joke, which resulted in a few forced chuckles from one end of the table. Gus Eicholtz asked Layne whether Renny was coming to the meeting. Before Layne could answer, the door opened.

  When a famous or powerful person entered a room, ordinary conversation ceases once those present become aware of who is in their midst. Renny Jacobson was not famous in the eyes of men, nor did he possess power according to earthly perceptions. But he did not walk into the dining room of the Rice Planter’s Inn as an inexperienced twenty-six-year-old who had been cruelly deceived by evil men, wiser and more devious than he. He stood before them robed with the delegated authority of the Judge of the universe, the One before whom every knee in heaven and on earth would bow.

  Smithfield saw him first and dropped his spoon into his soup. Layne stopped in midsentence and turned pale. Weiss grunted and looked away. Eicholtz started to voice a greeting but couldn’t force his lips to form the words. Total silence descended on the room.

  Only LaRochette had the strength to fight through the resistance. He rose to his feet. “Renny, what a sur—”

  Renny cut him off with a wave of his hand. LaRochette opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Nothing came out, and after a moment he sat down in his chair with a thud.

  Renny, his face set like flint with a strength and determination beyond voluntary control, met the eyes of everyone in the room. One by one he commanded their attention and looked into their souls. Few could bear his gaze for more than a few seconds before looking down or glancing away. Smithfield quickly found the napkin in his lap the most interesting thing within reach. Layne tried to adopt his patented smirk, but his face refused to cooperate and he nervously broke eye contact. Weiss attempted to generate a belligerent bluster but ended up flushing red in unexplainable embarrassment. Flournoy cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

  The evil within LaRochette cried out in rage for release when Renny’s eyes met his, and the legion of reinforced dark hosts in the older man’s soul revealed their presence. But all they could do was glare. Held fast in chains of darkness, they were rendered impotent in the presence of the One who lived in Renny’s spirit. Only Eicholtz did not seek to challenge Renny. He nodded and bowed his head.

  With the old portrait of John C. Calhoun behind him, Renny stood on the same spot where Amos Candler, his mother’s great-grandfather, had pleaded with J. F. Jacobson and the other men assembled that dark Confederate night not to bind themselves in a deceptive covenant of greed. Almost 140 years later, the competing influences in his family line— Jacobson on one side, Candler on the other—reached their climax with Renny at the center of the battle. In the end, the power of God’s goodness promised to a thousand generations of those who loved him reigned supreme upon the field of conflict. Renny chose the way of the Lord.

  Clothed in the spiritual mantle of his Candler ancestor, Renny’s authority was unquestionably established in the moments of unspoken confrontation. No longer the disenfranchised youngster, he now held the keys of dominion in time and space over the assembled group.

  Then, in rapid progression, words without origin in conscious memory began forming in his understanding. He let the burden build until the full fruition of the word sown in the spiritual atmosphere over a century before by his godly ancestor came forth with the multiplied power of a whirlwind. The conflict of generations played its final card, and when Renny spoke, it was not the volume of his voice, but the irresistible intensity of the Spirit that caused heaven and earth to give way before his declaration of judgment.

  Renny declared:

  Upon this generation will come the triumph of Almighty God against every source of spiritual evil in heavenly places connected with this covenant. Upon this generation will come the vengeance of the Lord Jesus Christ for everything you have measured out to others in greed, violence, and murder. Upon this generation will come the full measure of retribution for the sins of all who have united with you in wickedness. The cup of God’s wrath is full, and he now breaks every tentacle of your evil power and brings you to confusion and utter destruction.

  Renny stopped, and the building shuddered as a strong blast of wind swept in from the sea. Once again he stared at each man to see if any wanted to dispute his proclamation. Unable to move, they sat frozen in their seats. None responded. LaRochette couldn’t breathe, and his face turned bright red. The full effect of the word released, Renny turned on his heels and left the room.

  Outside, it was calm. Low in the eastern sky Renny saw the first glimmer of the evening star.

  As the sound of the closing door died away, LaRochette gasped for air. “It’s not that easy … uh, to break the power of our unity.” Drawing from his internal reservoir of evil, he found renewed strength to continue. “Jacobson will go to prison for his little escapade. And he cannot revoke by a few words the covenant he made in our presence and sealed with his own blood.” Taking the List, he opened it. “See, the proof of his unity and submission to us. Right here it reads—” LaRochette stopped and paled.

  “What is it, Desmond?” Roget asked.

  LaRochette stepped back as Roget reached across the table, grabbed the book, and ran his finger down the page Renny had signed.

  “It’s gone! His name is not here!”

  Gus Eicholtz jumped to his feet and jerked the book out of Roget’s hands to see for himself. “What fools we’ve been!”

  Turning back a page, he found wh
ere his name appeared and marked through it with a bold stroke of his pen. “Strike my name as well,” he said and bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  For the past three days Jo had been sleeping twenty hours a day due to fatigue and fever. During the brief spells of wakefulness, she continued to be disoriented and delirious. Dr. Levy had been unable to locate a suitable bone marrow donor and was fighting desperately to keep Jo alive until a possible match could be found. Exhausted and emotionally spent, Carol had gone home for a few hours’ rest.

  When Renny uttered his proclamation breaking the power of the List over the lives of those it had touched, Jo rolled over in bed and opened her eyes. She was hungry. Moving her arms, she felt stronger than she had at any time since entering the hospital. Her legs felt better, too. She wanted to get out of bed. Fully awake, she sat up. She pushed the call button and a very tired Anne responded in a few seconds.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s not what’s wrong. Something is right. My arms and legs feel much better, and I don’t have a trace of fever. Take my temperature, and let’s do a blood test.”

  Anne felt Jo’s cool forehead. “Praise the Lord. I’ll get someone from the lab to draw blood.”

  Jo’s temperature was 98.6, but she stayed under the isolation tent until the lab completed the blood work. Her red cell, white cell, and platelet counts were all within normal limits.

  Anne came running in with tears streaming down her face and told Jo the results. “I called your mom. She’s on her way over. Dr. Levy is assisting with a surgery, but I left word for him to come as soon as he can.”

  “It’s a miracle,” Jo said.

  “Yes.” Anne smiled through her tears. “That’s what you needed. A miracle.”

  36

  And I will restore to you … And ye shall eat in plenty,

  and be satisfied, and praise the name of the LORD your God,

  that hath dealt wondrously with you.

  JOEL 2:25–26, KJV

  LaRochette returned to the dining room and faced the still-shaken remnant of the Covenant List of South Carolina, Limited.

  “I talked with the police department. A magistrate is going to issue a warrant for Jacobson’s arrest for violating the terms of his probation in coming here tonight. They are also going to charge him with terrorist threats based on my summary of what he told us. Once he’s in jail, he will have plenty of time to rue the error of his ways.”

  “I may send him a postcard from the Virgin Islands. ‘Wish you were here,’” Weiss said in an effort to sound gleeful.

  There was a loud knock at the door, and it flew open. “Nobody move!”

  Five men, two in dark business suits and three wearing black shirts emblazoned with DEA, burst into the room. The DEA officers quickly blocked the two exits from the room. One of the men dressed in a suit spoke, “I’m Special Agent Max Logan with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is Agent Jackson, and these other officers are with the Drug Enforcement Agency. We have warrants for the arrest of the following persons…”

  LaRochette tried to register a protest, but Agent Jackson interrupted him and ordered him to face the wall and put his hands on top of his head. In ten minutes, LaRochette aged ten years. True to Renny’s words, a group of confused and defeated men was frisked, handcuffed, and led out single file to waiting government sedans. They were separated from one another and transported to an FBI detention center in Charleston.

  Renny was driving back to Charleston when the Georgetown police called A. L.’s house and informed him of the warrant for Renny’s arrest.

  “I don’t know where he is, but I will advise him to turn himself in as soon as I can contact him.”

  A. L. hung up the receiver with a heavy heart. The phone rang again. It was Greg Barnwell. “Did you hear the big news yet?”

  “Unfortunately. The police just called and said there was a warrant for Jacobson’s arrest.”

  “What? They oughta give the boy a medal, not throw him back in the lockup.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The big news is the bust the FBI and DEA made an hour ago on those rich guys your client put us onto. This is not for public dissemination, but you have a right to know. The old fellows were congregating at an old inn in Georgetown like fat cats around a dinner dish. The agents scooped ’em up without a meow or a scratch. They were all there except the one named Eicholtz.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “You’re not going to represent them, are you?”

  “You’re kidding. I think I have a conflict of interest.”

  “No doubt you do. Well, the DEA took the information you supplied and used it to squeeze that Parmero character in Miami. He saw the handwriting on the wall and agreed to turn state’s evidence. He gave us more than enough information to get multicount indictments this morning in Miami from a special grand jury investigating the Colombian drug trade. The federal district judge also issued seizure orders on all the accounts in Switzerland. It may take a while, but I think the national debt could be substantially reduced.”

  “Wow.”

  “The details will probably never come out, but in terms of money subject to seizure, it may be the biggest drug bust in history.”

  “Incredible. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “The thanks go to you and your client.”

  “Hey, since we’re such heroes, can you get someone to help with Jacobson’s situation here in Georgetown? Apparently he confronted the group before your men arrived, violating his parole agreement not to have contact with LaRochette, the leader of the organization.”

  “Sure. I’ll pass it on and ask someone to call the local authorities as soon as possible.”

  “Great. You should get a promotion, Greg.”

  “Who knows? At the least I’ll get an afternoon off to go fishin’.”

  Oblivious to the furor foaming in his wake, Renny was as lighthearted and free as he had been since—well, forever.

  Mama A was still awake when he knocked on her door.

  “A. L. called an hour ago and said he had some bad news and some better news. He wanted you to call him if you came by here.”

  Renny went into the kitchen and dialed A. L.’s number. “Do I want to know the bad news?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry,” the big lawyer said. “LaRochette orchestrated a warrant for your arrest. However, I can guarantee that as we speak he is not thinking about pressing charges against you. Within the hour he should be arriving in Charleston, courtesy of the FBI and DEA. The federal authorities are going to contact the law enforcement officials here about the warrant for your arrest, and I will try to see Judge Kincaid about the matter on Monday morning.”

  “What happened?”

  “The Feds were on your heels. They must have arrived at the inn within minutes after you left.”

  “Was everybody arrested?”

  “All except Eicholtz were picked up on multicount indictments. The Colombian contact is cooperating with the government.”

  “It happened,” Renny said deliberately.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The message I had for the group. They could not resist the presence of God’s power within me. I can’t describe what happened; it was the Lord’s judgment against evil, just like King Josiah in the Bible.”

  “You broke the power of evil in the spiritual realm. Now the Lord is using the sword of the government to execute judgment on the earth.” “Yeah.”

  “Well done, Renny.”

  Renny paused. “So, did I make it to the Wall of Faith?”

  A. L. laughed. “Without a doubt. You’re my new favorite case.”

  Both Renny and Mama A went to bed and slept like rocks. Renny caught an early flight to Detroit and arrived in Lansing before noon. He drove straight to the hospital and took the elevator to the fifth floor. The middle-aged nurse responded to the buzzer.

  “I want to see Jo Johnston, please.”r />
  “She’s been moved to another room. You need to check at the patient information desk downstairs in the lobby.”

  Renny retraced his steps and saw Carol Edwards walking across the lobby. Waving, he ran over to her. “How’s Jo?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “No more fever or infection?”

  “More than that. No more anything. She’s completely healed.”

  Renny’s mouth dropped open. “When? How?”

  “Last night. I’d gone home to rest for a few hours, not sure if she’d still be with us when I returned to the hospital. But she woke up and felt better. They performed blood tests, and everything was completely normal. They repeated the tests this morning and got the same results. So Dr. Levy moved her to a regular room.”

  “Did you say seven-thirty?”

  “Yes.”

  Renny shook his head. “Incredible.”

  “Yes, it is,” Carol responded, not realizing what Renny was referring to. “She may be released tomorrow.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “I’m on my way up to her room now.”

  Carol knocked on the door. “You have a visitor. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Renny wasn’t prepared for his reaction when he saw Jo sitting up in bed with the full bloom of health on her cheeks and a bright smile on her face. That would have been enough. But when their eyes met, her joy at seeing him and the pure love that flowed out of her heart and into his overcame him. He sat down by the bed, put his face into the sheet beside her, and wept. Her own eyes moist, Jo didn’t speak. She simply stroked his head with her hand. The tension generated by the overwhelming pressures of the previous few days flowed out of Renny. His internal spring had been wound to the breaking point, and in her presence he was finally able to let everything go.

  “Feel better?” she asked when he raised his tear-streaked face.

  He nodded.

  “Me, too.”

  He held her hand to his cheek and kissed it.

  “That’s nice. Tell me, what have you been doing while I was in never-never land?”

 

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