Flight 219
Even though Meredith hadn’t been able to hear the entire exchange between Bradley and his next victim, the loud and confident voice from the back of the cabin now carried over every other sound in the plane.
“Let her go.”
Meredith’s breath caught in her throat when she recognized the voice of the speaker.
“I said let her go.” Grandma Lucy was out of her seat now. Meredith forgot any of her former resolve. Forgot that she was supposed to focus on the child beside her. Forgot that she was supposed to keep her eyes closed. She remained twisted around in her seat and stared, transfixed, a hint or maybe an echo of the same sense of power she’d experienced when Grandma Lucy prayed over her in the airport gate now flying somewhere overhead in the cabin. If she could focus her attention just a little more, she could grab hold of it.
Keep some of that peace and conviction for herself.
“Sit down,” Grandma Lucy ordered the young woman, who only a moment before had been staring at the end of Bradley’s gun. She didn’t move.
“Sit down, child,” Grandma Lucy told her again, her voice gentler this time.
Grandma Lucy turned her attention to Bradley. “If you need a victim that badly, young man, take me.”
“You?” Bradley scoffed. “You’re nothing but a shriveled up old woman.”
“You’re exactly right.” Grandma Lucy straightened her back. Even though she couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, Meredith could have sworn the old woman was staring down at the hijacker. “That’s why if you want to kill someone, you kill me instead. Let that poor girl go. Can’t you see how terrified she is?”
Bradley didn’t take his eyes off Grandma Lucy. Neither did Meredith.
Her assailant stood at least a full foot taller than she was, yet Grandma Lucy managed to convey the impression that she towered over him.
“If you’re so determined to take another life today, I’m more than ready to meet my Maker. One could say you’d be doing me a favor.”
Bradley sneered. Meredith couldn’t stop staring at Grandma Lucy. Was the old woman growing taller by the second?
There was a moment of hesitation. A pause. Was Bradley considering?
And then he raised the gun to Grandma Lucy.
No, Meredith wanted to scream. No. But she couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t even pray for the old woman. All she could do was watch.
“Before you shoot me, I have one favor to ask.” Grandma Lucy’s voice hadn’t yet wavered once. How did she manage to sound so calm? She tilted her chin up. Glared at Bradley.
“What is it?” he asked. And whatever it was Grandma Lucy demanded of him, Meredith believed he would comply with her request. How could he do anything but?
“I want to pray for you.”
He scoffed again, and Grandma Lucy silenced him with a stern glare.
“You will let me pray for you, and then you can do whatever you want with me.”
Pray for him? What was she doing? What was she saying? What was this? Did Grandma Lucy mean to stall him? Was someone going to sneak up and grab Bradley from behind, tackle him to the ground while his attention was on this little old prayer warrior?
No. Nobody in the cabin was moving. If Meredith could have guessed, she would have said nobody in the cabin could move, not in the face of such conviction. Such boldness. The confidence that exuded from Grandma Lucy’s entire being was nothing short of divine. Nothing short of miraculous.
Who was this old woman? An angel, maybe?
Meredith recalled the warmth of her touch when Grandma Lucy had grabbed her by the hand to pray for her in the airport terminal. Not an angel. Then what?
And how in the world could Meredith call herself a Christian leader when she knew with certainty she’d never possess the undying faith that Grandma Lucy displayed with every defiant tilt of her head, every confident demand?
Grandma Lucy didn’t wait for Bradley’s permission. She lifted her hand up toward heaven and began to pray. Meredith held her breath. Any criminal in his right mind would shoot the old woman right now. He’d already killed before and was prepared to do it again. How hard could it be? And yet Meredith knew, just as certainly as she knew that if the plane’s engines malfunctioned she and everyone on board would plummet to their deaths, that Grandma Lucy was safe. In the past, Meredith had prayed for God to shield other believers from harm, to put up a hedge of protection around them. Now, she was half certain that if she were to walk up to where Grandma Lucy stood and reached out her arm, she’d find Grandma Lucy surrounded by an impenetrable wall of divine power.
Grandma Lucy’s prayer for Bradley was just as passionate, just as powerful as her prayer for Meredith at the gate.
“Father God, Savior of the world, our Creator, Healer, and Friend, I pray for this young man. I pray for all the hurts he’s carrying around, Lord, all the confusion, all the pain and fear. I pray for your sweet and holy Spirit to minister to his yearning soul. God, show him that you are the way and the truth and the life and that no one comes to the Father except through your Son.
“I pray that every sin this young man here has ever committed would be forgiven on account of the blood shed for him when you sent your Son Jesus to die on the cross to take his place, to carry the punishment for his transgression. Lord, you alone can forgive sins. You alone can take the pain that this man is feeling and turn it into something beautiful. Something glorious. And so I ask you to minister to his soul today, Father. Show him that salvation isn’t found in guns or terrorism or fear. Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved. This is what we believe, and this is what we proclaim …”
“Stop! That’s enough.” Bradley roared. The gun in his hand trembled as he took closer aim at Grandma Lucy’s forehead.
The spell was broken.
Bradley pulled the trigger.
Meredith closed her eyes.