“But I thought it was better to have more people in church,” Jimmy said.
“Don't worry about that,” Mama said. “This time it's going to be a small congregation.”
Jimmy looked at the adults standing before him. He counted them and put his finger on his own chest.
“There are five of us. That's too many.”
Brother Fitzgerald turned to Daddy. “I talked to the judge, and he thinks Jimmy and I should go along with either you or Ellen.”
Daddy looked at Mama.
“You do it, Lee,” she said, “He's your father, and Jimmy is your son.”
“Okay,” Daddy said, glancing at the clock. “We can go back to see him in about twenty minutes.”
“Can we start church now?” Jimmy asked.
“What do you mean?” Daddy asked.
“Brother Fitzgerald can pray, and we can all sing in here.”
The preacher looked at Daddy. “This boy is bold, isn't he?”
“There are some things he doesn't fear.”
Mr. Robinson turned to Brother Fitzgerald.
“Preacher, call the congregation to order.”
What followed was not a typical Sunday afternoon in the ICU waiting area. After Brother Fitzgerald talked to the attendant on duty and checked with the other people in the room, he assembled everyone wanting to participate in a semicircle beneath the clock. Several folks not associated with the Mitchell family joined them.
“Let us pray,” Brother Fitzgerald began in a voice that filled the room and caused even those not with the group to bow their heads. He prayed a long prayer, but Jimmy kept his eyes closed to the end.
They sang “Amazing Grace.” Jimmy stood beside Mama and enjoyed the clear sound of her voice. The preacher then asked for prayer requests. Family members of the young man who had been in the car wreck told about his situation. The elderly sister of the skinny woman who had suffered a stroke spoke up. More people from other parts of the room joined the group and voiced the burdens of their souls. When they finished, Brother Fitzgerald launched into one of the best prayers Jimmy had ever heard. There were several sniffles around the room as the names and problems of loved ones were mentioned. The preacher finished and glanced up at the clock.
“In a few minutes, I'm going to visit Jim Mitchell, but before I do, I want to talk to all of you about one of the most precious gifts God has given usâtime.”
Brother Fitzgerald spoke about every person's opportunity to redeem the time allotted to them by almighty God. He didn't yell but talked as if sitting with friends. Jimmy enjoyed it when the preacher hollered on Sunday mornings, but today it seemed right to do it differently. Daddy particularly seemed to be listening.
“Seek the Lord's presence throughout the day,” the preacher said. “Let his praise be continually on your lips. And you will find the richness hidden in a life lived with God. Be like King David, who said, âMy times are in thy hands.'”
When he finished, the people quietly moved away. Brother Fitzgerald came up to Daddy, Mama, and Jimmy.
“Jimmy, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
D
ADDY LED THE WAY, FOLLOWED BY
B
ROTHER
F
ITZGERALD
and Jimmy. This time Jimmy was prepared for the sight of Grandpa in the bed. He hadn't moved an inch. The three visitors stood at the end of the bed, and Brother Fitzgerald prayed. After he finished, Jimmy spoke.
“Please pray with him the way you did with me when I got saved.”
The preacher put his hand on Jimmy's shoulder and looked into his eyes.
“Jimmy, you were able to hear and respond. Your grandfather is unconscious. The best thing to do now is pray that he will get better so I can share the gospel with him at a more opportune time.”
“We hope he will wake enough to go to a nursing home,” Daddy added.
Jimmy wasn't sure about the meaning of “opportune,” but he knew what he wanted.
“No,” he insisted. “Pray now.”
Brother Fitzgerald looked at Daddy and shrugged.
“It won't hurt anything,” the preacher said.
“Will you hold his hand the way you did with me?” Jimmy asked.
“Yes, I will.”
Brother Fitzgerald moved to the side of the bed. Jimmy joined him. Daddy remained in the same place. The preacher took Grandpa's limp hand in his, bowed his head, and spoke the words that had come with power to Jimmy when he opened his heart to the Lord Jesus. Jimmy didn't close his eyes but watched Grandpa closely. Grandpa didn't repeat the prayer.
“In the name of Jesus, amen,” Brother Fitzgerald finished.
Jimmy put his hand on top of the preacher's hand and repeated, “In the name of Jesus, amen.”
As he looked lovingly at Grandpa's face, Jimmy thought he saw slight movement in his eyelids. Jimmy stared harder, and by an act of his will tried to force the old man's eyes completely open. But they didn't budge.
“I'll come back to see him later,” Brother Fitzgerald said. “You never know what a person actually hears, but I'd hate to base the hope of salvation on a prayer at a time like this.”
“My times are in thy hands,” Jimmy said softly.
Both Brother Fitzgerald and Daddy looked at Jimmy in surprise.
“That's what you told us in the waiting room,” Jimmy said, turning toward the adults.
As they left the room, Daddy said, “That sort of thing occasionally happens with him. It's not always verbatim, but it's close.”
When they returned to the waiting room, Mama gave both Daddy and Jimmy a hug.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Good,” Daddy said. “Brother Fitzgerald did a fine job.”
“Most people do. What about you, Jimmy? Are you satisfied?”
“Yes, ma'am. He prayed with Grandpa just like he did with me at the church.”
“Did he respond?”
“Not as far as we could see,” Daddy said before Jimmy could answer.
“You're right to care so much for him,” Mama said to Jimmy. “There's not much we can do but pray. Your grandpa is in God's hands now.”
Jimmy smiled. “That's what I think too.”
Daddy kissed Mama on the cheek and rubbed Jimmy's hair.
“You're taller than you used to be,” he said to Jimmy. “Mama will bring you back to see your grandpa this evening. You did a good thing asking
Brother Fitzgerald to come this afternoon.”
“When are you coming home?” Mama asked.
“I don't know, but for now I need to be here.”
Mama and Jimmy left the hospital.
As they walked across the parking lot, Mama asked, “Who did you see in Grandpa's hospital room?”
“Grandpa,” he answered simply.
“That's it?”
“Well, you, Daddy, and Brother Fitzgerald were there.”
“I mean, did you see any Watchers?”
“No, ma'am. Do you think any of them stay at the hospital?”
“Oh, yes,” Mama said confidently. “I'm sure they're there even if we can't see them.”
I
T WAS LESS THAN A TEN-MINUTE DRIVE FROM THE HOSPITAL TO
the Mitchell home. Jimmy's bicycle was leaning against the front porch. The front wheel was warped, and it bore several new scratches. Attached to it was a note.
I rescued your bike. It needs some work, but I think a new front wheel will get it back in working order. I'm glad you were wearing your seat belt. Allen Askew, Deputy.
“That was nice of Deputy Askew to bring your bike. Daddy can get it fixed next week,” Mama said.
Jimmy rolled it around to the backyard. The warped wheel made it wobble. He told Buster about Grandpa, then went upstairs to his bedroom, closed the door, and knelt beside his bed. The verse given to him on the day of his salvation returned.
“Behold, I make all things new,” he said. “Please, do that for my grandpa.”
He stayed on his knees and repeated the prayer several times. Another face floated across the surface of his mind. It was his daddy.
“And make everything new for Daddy too,” he added.
There was a knock on the door. Mama opened it and saw him.
“Are you praying for Grandpa?” she asked.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Jimmy, there's no need to pray anymore. Grandpa is gone.”
Jimmy got up and sat on the edge of the bed. Mama came over and put her arm around his shoulders.
“Gone?” he said, staring past Mama.
“Daddy just called. Grandpa's heart stopped beating a few minutes ago. The doctors tried to help but couldn't get it started again.”
Jimmy didn't speak as the shocking news hit him.
“Is he in heaven?” he asked after a few seconds.
“We hope so.”
Jimmy shook his head in disbelief.
“I won't get to see him anymore.”
The sad kind of tears poured out of Jimmy's eyes. He wiped them away with the back of his hand.
“What am I going to do without my grandpa?” he wailed.
Jimmy turned his head, buried his face in Mama's shoulder, and wept. Mama held him. He cried and cried.
“I'm sorry,” she said after Jimmy caught his breath and looked up at her. “He was a good man and a wonderful grandpa. We all loved him.”
After another minute of tears, Jimmy lifted his head.
“I'll be okay,” he said through his sniffles. “I understand.”
“There will be other times of sadness,” Mama replied.
“Yes, ma'am, but I know I'll see Grandpa again. It will just be a longer time between visits.”
T
HE
M
ITCHELL FAMILY DIDN'T SIT IN THEIR USUAL PEW AT
the funeral service. Jimmy followed Mama and Daddy to the front bench on the left side of the sanctuary. Daddy sat beside Grandma, who held a tissue in her hand and wiped her eyes several times during the service. Jimmy didn't cry. Many tears had watered his heartache immediately after Grandpa's death. Now he was more likely to cry at the sight of the field where Grandpa taught him to ride his bicycle.
Brother Fitzgerald welcomed the congregation and prayed. The choir director led a song. Then two men who had known Grandpa for a long time walked up to the pulpit.
The first speaker was a retired lineman from the Georgia Power Company.
“We both started working for the company about the same time. One day we were both on top of a pole bolting on a cross arm. Out of the blue, several hornets attacked and started stinging us. I'm allergic to any kind of bee poison.”
The man rubbed his forehead. “I remember getting three stings right across here. I was getting weak and having trouble breathing. Jim was getting popped by the hornets as much as me, but instead of getting off the pole, he came around and brought me down against his chest. He was incredibly strong.”
“That's the way he carried me,” Jimmy whispered to Daddy.
“He radioed for help, and an ambulance took me to the hospital where I got a shot that saved my life.”
The man pointed to a gray-haired woman in the front row.
“Sarah and I got married the next summer,” the man said. “We have four children and ten grandchildren. None of them would be here if Jim Mitchell hadn't risked his life to save mine. No better man ever put on a yellow helmet. It was an honor to work with him for almost forty years.”
A second man, one of Grandpa's fishing and hunting buddies, told about Grandpa secretly putting a fake deer head with a huge rack of antlers in the woods behind a large tree.
“We were creeping through the underbrush when he stopped and pointed in the distance. We saw the rack on this deer, and Jim said it must have come down out of the Smoky Mountains. We got so excited that we all fired at once. Of course, the buck didn't move, so we fired again. After the third round of shots, Jim started laughing so hard that we stopped and realized we'd been had.”
People laughed at the story. Jimmy glanced at Daddy, who was smiling too. After Grandpa's friends talked, Brother Fitzgerald said some nice things about Grandpa but, to Jimmy's surprise, didn't mention praying for him at the hospital. A friend of Grandma's sang a sad song, and Brother Fitzgerald prayed to end the service.
A smaller group of friends and family went to the church cemetery for the burial. The First Baptist Church didn't have a graveyard beside the church, so many years before, the church had purchased land not far from Daddy's office to use as a cemetery. A slow-moving line of cars made the brief journey to the burial site.
Mama held Jimmy's hand as they walked past the grave markers. Jimmy read the names out loud until Mama told him to hush. In front of a freshly dug grave rested a headstone with both Grandpa's and Grandma's names on it. Chiseled beneath the date of Grandpa's birth appeared the date of his death. Jimmy held his breath as the casket was lowered into the ground. He'd seen Grandpa's body during open-casket visitation at the funeral home, but the old man in a black suit lying in the shiny box wasn't the loving companion Jimmy carried in his heart. Jimmy had no desire to touch the dead body or even stare at it very long. He had enough living memories to last a lifetime.
After the casket was lowered and Brother Fitzgerald said another prayer, Grandma shoveled some dirt into the hole. Jimmy watched wide-eyed, shocked that Grandma was going to shovel dirt with her nice clothes on. To his relief, she handed the shovel to Daddy, who did the same thing, then passed the shovel to a dark-suited man Jimmy had seen at the funeral home. The man leaned on the shovel but made no effort to fill in the hole. They left the cemetery with the grave still open.
“Who's going to put dirt in the hole?”
Jimmy asked Mama. “Should I offer to help?”
“No, there are men who do that to make money.”
“I could do that job,” Jimmy said, “if I don't go to work for the Georgia Power Company.”
T
HEY RETURNED TO
J
IMMY'S HOME.
G
RANDMA CAME WITH
them. On the coffee table in the living room were several copies of a newspaper story about the carp fishing tournament that appeared on the same day as Grandpa's obituary. The fishing story made Grandpa seem more alive than dead. Jimmy's name was also mentioned.