THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21 – Christmas fell on a Monday that year, and it was the last Thursday before the holiday. Bruce McKinney hardly came out of his home any more, except to attend legal meetings, which had not gone well for them. The federal regulators had decided to make an example out of their case, to deter others, and they were not interested in a light plea bargain. And civil cases were still lining up over the lost funds.
In October Bruce finally gave in to pressure and lowered the asking price on their home, and a contract was executed a week later. Now, much to his disgust, they would be moving to a small rental home on the Wednesday after Christmas.
Amy was very pregnant, her baby due in less than a month. The Tomlinsons came to visit her at Thanksgiving and assured Amy that everything was ready for the baby back at their home. Despite her discomfort, Amy was healthy and in good spirits. She attended church every week with her two best friends and prayed daily for her baby.
Kristen and Peter exchanged visits in the fall, staying in each other's apartments. Kristen decided to accept Peter's invitation to visit him for the long Christmas weekend. Their relationship, she realized, would not go any further with so many miles between them; and on the flight out she resolved to decide over the weekend whether to move permanently to San Francisco or to end their romantic involvement. She arrived in San Francisco that afternoon, and they were finishing a candlelit dinner in his apartment, looking out at the Bay.
“Peter, I really enjoy being with you in every way. Do you think that if I moved here, we would have a chance at a real relationship?”
“You mean like marriage?”
“Eventually, yes. Not right away. But if I uprooted my life and moved here, I would want to know that we had a better than even chance of winding up together permanently.”
“Well, I like you too. And I guess we're getting to the age when we have to think about the future. But before we go on, there's something I was going to tell you tonight anyway, and I guess now is as good a time as any, though the news isn't good.”
“What is it, Peter?” Kristen asked with a sinking feeling, leaning forward in her chair at the table.
“I think from now on we're going to have to use a condom, Kristen,” he said, looking down at his glass to avoid her eyes.
“Why? I've been taking the pill for years, as you know.”
“Well. Look, this isn't easy, and I only just found out yesterday…When I first moved here right after graduate school, it was a pretty wild scene. It still is, but back then it was really wild. I got in with a group through a friend at the paper, and—well, we had some pretty loose parties. Sometimes they went on for days in houses up in the mountains. There were about twelve of us regulars, men and women, and any number of others who would drop in and out.”
“What are you talking about, Peter? That was years ago, right?”
“I'm talking about group sex. Orgies, I guess. Everyone doing everything with everybody. And, yes, it was years ago. But here's the thing. Two of the regulars, a man and a woman, have now turned up to be HIV positive.”
“Oh no,” Kristen gasped. “Did you…?”
“Sure. Many times.”
“With both of them?”
“Look, at those parties, everyone was zonked, and we all tried all sorts of things. It didn't necessarily mean you were gay; we just did whatever felt good at the time.”
Kristen had turned pale, and her throat was suddenly dry. “So you may be HIV positive?”
“I'm not now; I was tested yesterday afternoon. But I thought I ought to tell you so that we can take the necessary precautions.”
Kristen sat in silence. What had she been doing? What had she been thinking? Why had no one warned her? She might very well already be carrying inside her the seed of her own death. What a fool she had been. All of those thoughts burst upon her in one long single flash.
“Take the necessary precautions?” she asked bitterly. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“Hey, I only found out myself yesterday. Do you think I'm happy?”
“I mean about the group sex. The AC/DC stuff. Why didn't you tell me?”
“Well, it was a long time ago. And I haven't asked you about your past sex life. What are you, suddenly some kind of a virgin or something?”
No, but I wish to God I was! The thought exploded on her mind. What have I done to myself for all these years? she again thought. Suddenly she knew what she had to do. To Peter she said, “We won't have to take any more precautions because we aren't going to sleep together again. In fact, I'm not going to sleep here any more.”
She stood up, put down her napkin, walked up the stairs to his bedroom, and began packing. “Please call me a taxi, Peter.”
Still sitting at the table, stunned by her reaction, and not wanting to lose her, he said, “Oh, come on Kristen. Please don't overreact. It's not that big a deal.”
She leaned over the loft rail and said in a loud voice, almost in a scream, “Overreact? No big deal? Peter, death is a very big deal! Now call me a taxi!”
That same Thursday night Nepravel and Zoldar were continuing to build an utter despair in Bruce McKinney to push him over the edge. With little to stop them other than the daily prayers from the Sullivans, the voices inside Bruce were spinning at a fever pitch. The louder they played, the more depressed he became.
Sitting in his armchair, alone again late that night, he heard a voice tell him that he was a total failure. “My family has to move out of our home two days after Christmas. How bad is that? What a provider I am! And this time next year I'll be in jail. And bankrupt. How will Diane and the kids make it? And all because of those stupid attorneys and their picking. It's not fair. We almost made it. Those attorneys! And the most self-righteous one lives right next door and pretends to be our friend. I know he laughs at us behind our backs. A lot of help he's been!”
His head spinning from depression and alcohol, Bruce finally fell asleep in his armchair, where his seven-year-old son found him the next morning.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 22 – It was early Friday evening, and there was a bustle of Christmas activity on Devon Drive. The Hawkinses were hosting a Christmas party for the younger teenagers, and Tommy and Brent were there, dancing in the basement with a group from their class.
Tom Bryant was returning late from a business trip, so Janet suggested to Nancy that they go to the mall to finish their Christmas shopping. Susan volunteered to stay with Amy, and the two teenagers decided to use the evening to wrap presents together at Amy's house.
That left Richard at home by himself until Janet returned from the mall. So he also decided to wrap some presents, after eating a microwave supper. He was standing at the breakfast room table, wrapping a present for Tommy at about 7:30, when the doorbell rang. He went to the door and looked out through the window by the door. It was Kristen.
Next door Diane was more worried than usual. Because of the school holidays she had been home all day, and she noticed that Bruce started drinking early in the afternoon; now he was sitting again in his armchair, just staring, as if he were listening to voices, which he was. Nepravel and Zoldar were both there, working Bruce down into a wretched pit of despair.
She tried to interest him in helping her or in playing with the kids, but he grunted his displeasure. Almost in tears, she went into their bedroom, closed the door, and for the first time in her adult life dropped to her knees, and prayed.
“Can I come in, please?” Kristen asked, tear streaks visible on her cheeks.
“Of course,” Richard said, opening the door wider. She walked in and sat on the sofa in their den, her coat and her purse next to her.
“Would you like some coffee, or a drink of some sort?” he asked.
“A soft drink would be fine, thank you,” she smiled, though it was obvious that it was an effort.
Richard returned from the kitchen, handed her the glass, and sat next to her in the armchair. “Now, what has happened to you?”
“I've just landed on the first flight I could get out of San Francisco this morning. With the Christmas rush, the first two were full, but I got the last seat on the third one, and I drove right here from the airport.” She took a long sip from her drink and then told him all about Peter, starting months before, and about his revelation of the night before. It took her almost ten minutes to complete the story, and he was appalled by the last news. “So I spent the night in a motel at the San Francisco airport, and here I am.”
“Kristen, that's awful. What do you want me to do?”
Diane finished praying and went upstairs to put the young ones to bed. They were already wound up about Christmas, and she knew she would have to read them several stories. As she walked through their den, Bruce stood up and went into their bedroom, without saying anything to her.
Bruce went first to his bedside table and pulled out his chrome .38 special, then to his dresser for the loaded cylinder. The voices told him that he had seen and heard enough. Someone had to pay for what had happened to him and to his family. And his family would be much better off with his insurance money than they were with him.
As Diane finished reading the first story to their little boys, she heard their front door close She stood up and looked out the second-story window and saw Bruce walking down their driveway, without a coat. In the light from the turnaround, she clearly saw the gleam from the chrome revolver in his hand.
“Oh no!” she gasped, her breath knocked out of her.
“What is it Mommy? Is it Santa Claus?” her youngest asked.
“No, no. I'll be right back.” And she ran to the telephone in the upstairs hall and dialed 911.
Kristen said, “Richard, all night and all day on the plane I've been thinking about what Anne Meredith said that night at my apartment. She said that I had to first find the love of God and a relationship with Him before I could find the real love of any man. And I realize today that she gave me the best advice I've had since I left home; but I've ignored it, until now. Richard, I'm done. I can't run my life any more. I've made a terrible mess of it, and I want to give it to God. I need His help so badly.” She started to cry softly. “Please, what is it that the Merediths and you and the others have? And how do I get it? How can I start over, with Him?”
“It's Jesus Christ, Kristen. And He's right here. He can heal you and give you a new relationship with God and an inner joy like you've never known. As you saw that night, we can still be tempted to go astray. But you can belong to God forever. And whatever happens, either with this HIV situation or with anything else, you'll know that you'll spend eternity in heaven with Him.”
“Oh Richard, how do I do that? I'm so tired of trying to do it all myself…”
Just then the front door opened and they heard a man's voice yell, “Richard, where are you?” Without waiting for an answer, the man came toward the light in the den. Richard and Kristen, frozen by the abruptness of the interruption, were suddenly confronted by Bruce McKinney, unshaven, in a rage, and carrying a large revolver, standing in the door from the hall to the den.
“There you are, you self-righteous lawyer jerk. Who's that, and what have you done to make her cry? You're gifted in that area, aren't you?”
Richard and Kristen were speechless. “Well, I've had enough. Enough of you and enough of this messed-up world. You wouldn't help me when I needed you.” He raised the gun and pointed it at Richard, whose heart began pounding. “And so now we're going to see what's really on the other side of this life, you and me.”
Nepravel and Zoldar, who came in with Bruce, knew full well what was on the other side and looked at each other in glee, anticipating that they would at least have Bruce to introduce to hell that night.
“Bruce, what about Diane?” Richard said, trying to think of anything to say. Kristen, realizing after a few seconds what was happening, also remembered that her purse was beside her on the sofa, covered by her coat. How had she tossed it? Was it open? Could she get to her automatic?
“Diane will be much better off with the insurance money than she will with a failure of a husband locked in jail…”
Kristen inched her right hand toward the purse under her coat, trying not to move too quickly. She silently prayed for guidance. Yes, the purse was open toward her. She slowly slid her hand into it, feeling for the cold metal of the Sig Sauer P-230.
“We'll see in a second whether all those prayers have done you any good, Richard,” Bruce said, leveling the gun at Richard's head. Kristen moved her hand faster; her breathing had stopped.
Just then the door from the garage flew open, and Susan ran in. She started to speak to her father, then saw Kristen on the sofa and Bruce McKinney in the other door, pointing a gun at her father and swinging it towards her.
“No, Bruce, don't shoot! It's Susan!” Richard yelled. Bruce swung the gun back toward Richard, then again toward Susan. Kristen finally put her hand on her own automatic and slowly started pulling it out of the purse, bringing her left hand across her body to be ready to cock it.
“Daddy, what's…? Mr. McKinney, why?…Oh, Daddy, Amy's water just broke, and she's gone into labor. She's crying and in terrible pain. Please come and help! She's got to go to the hospital!”
Richard turned back to Bruce. The gun was still leveled at his head. Richard asked silently for God's help and then spoke, suddenly feeling the power to confront death: “Bruce, your family needs you, not money. They need a husband and father for forty more years, whatever happens in the next five. They and we love you and want only the best for you. More importantly, God loves you and wants the best for you, if you'll let Him work in your life. But right now Amy needs our help. She's alone next door, scared to death, and about to have a baby, to bring a new life into this world. Do you remember when Diane had your boys? We've got to help her. What will it be, Bruce? You've got to choose. Will it be death? Or life?”
Bruce held the gun on Richard, while Kristen and Susan watched. No one breathed. They could all hear sirens in the background, coming closer. Nepravel and Zoldar urged Bruce on to pull the trigger. Richard, Kristen, and Susan could see Bruce thinking, and then his countenance visibly changed. The visual image of Amy needing them, just as Diane had needed him years ago, and the prayers, stopped the deceptive voices. He lowered the gun, put it on the bookcase, and said calmly, “What do you want me to do, Richard?”
Kristen breathed again and shoved her own gun back into her purse. Susan ran to her father, who stood up and hugged her, then motioned to Bruce. “We've got to drive Amy to the hospital. Bruce, write a note for Tom and Nancy, or stay in their home, whichever you want. And, whether you like it or not,” Richard smiled at him for the first time, “pray!”
Bruce nodded and said quietly “OK. I'll do it. Let me call Diane first, and tell her that everything's OK, and about Amy.”
“Susan, Kristen, come on,” Richard said, hurrying out the door to the garage, just as a police car and an ambulance pulled into their driveway. Two policemen jumped out, weapons drawn, and ran toward them.
“Stop! Who are you?…We had a report of a man with a gun coming in the direction of these houses. Are you OK?”
“Yes, officer, we're fine. I'm Richard Sullivan; here's my ID. I think there was a mistake on that report. But we do have a teenage girl in unexpected sudden labor, and we could really use that ambulance to get her to the hospital.”
As they put away their weapons, the two officers looked at each other and at the paramedic, who had run up while Richard was talking. “Sure. That's fine. Where is she?”
Susan lead the paramedics to Amy, who was lying on the living room floor, breathing as she had learned in her birthing class, crying, and praying. “We've got help, Amy. Everything's going to be all right,” Susan said, smiling and holding Amy's hand, as the paramedics unfolded the last parts of their stretcher.
Two minutes later Amy was in the ambulance, and the group was standing outside its open back doors, deciding who would drive to the hospital in which cars. The lead paramedic took Amy's blood pressure and fitted her with a portable fetal monitor.
“I can drive Susan in my car,” Kristen said to Richard, “…if you want.”
“Hey!” the paramedic yelled to his partner. “This baby is in distress! Let's roll!”
“Can I go?” Richard asked, as the driver slammed the first door shut.
“One adult. That's all. Let's go.”
Richard jumped inside, and the driver slammed the second door behind him. Kristen grabbed Susan, and they ran to Kristen's car. The police car and the ambulance took off together, blue and red lights flashing.
Nepravel and Zoldar were defeated. They were used to winning against humans, and they hated the bitter taste of defeat. The prayers. The infernal prayers! The humans had constantly sought God's help, and He had answered them! As the emergency vehicles sped off, the two demons let out wails of anger and of hate, knowing that their fates were sealed.
Amy had heard the paramedic's words about her baby, and between the pain of the contractions, which were already starting to come closer together, she gasped, “What is it, Mr. Sullivan?”
Richard, kneeling by Amy, looked up at the paramedic, who was seated at Amy's head, watching the vital signs on both Amy and her baby. The paramedic answered, “This is on a relay back to the hospital for their analysis, but as best I can tell, the umbilical cord must be wrapped around the baby's neck. Every time she has a contraction and has to push, it wraps the cord tighter, cutting off oxygen to the baby's brain and throwing it into distress.” Lowering his voice for only Richard to hear, he said, “I've seen this before, and it's not good. We've got several miles to go, and her contractions are coming closer and closer. The baby may not make it.”
That was simply not acceptable to Richard. He took Amy's hand in his and said to her, “Amy, I'm going to pray out loud so you can pray along with me. I know it's going to be hard, but try not to push.”
Then Richard began to pray. “Dear God, we call upon Your mighty power tonight. We lift up Amy and her baby to You now, asking You to intervene, to guard and protect this baby, as You did Your own Son almost two thousand years ago tonight. Dear God, please hear our prayer, and save this baby, that he might do Your work in his time…”
Roy Johnson had recently retired from a Christian publishing company, and he was one of the three editorial panel members for “911 Live” that night in New York. One of their “spotters,” who scanned the raw feeds from the ten cities, announced over the panel's headphones, “We've got a young mother with an unborn baby in distress in an ambulance, with a guy praying for them.”
“Let's see it,” Roy asked. The monitor came on in front of them, and there were Richard and Amy in the red glow inside the ambulance. Richard was just telling Amy that he was going to pray, and then he began.
“Looks good to me,” Roy said to his fellow panel members.
“Isn't it a little mundane?” the woman from Network asked.
“Now, Gloria, it's almost Christmas, and this is probably the last segment we'll get on tonight. I went along with you on that drug bust in Chicago, despite the violence. I vote we show people doing what we've been doing for thousands of years, praying when we're in distress. And besides, look for yourself. It's ‘what's really happening!’” he smiled.
She thought for a moment and then returned his smile. “OK. Sure. It's Christmas. Let's do it. All right with you, Don?”
The third member of their panel nodded his agreement. Roy called over his microphone and spoke to the director, who said to the technician, “OK on the feed from the ambulance. Back it up and start it from the top after this commercial. Give our anchor the details.”
At 8:30 that night, the Friday before Christmas, “911 Live” broadcast into millions of homes in America the truth that millions of Americans had forgotten: that the power to do anything and everything rests only in God, not humanity.
On their screens the show's viewers saw Amy and heard the paramedic give his early assessment of the difficult situation. Then they saw Amy's tears and Richard taking her hand, as he started to pray.
And all across America, people stopped what they were doing that night and began to pray with Richard.
Cynthia Weeks was looking out her living room window in Des Moines, as her two younger children put the finishing touches on a snowman with their father; their creation stood in the spotlight created by their outside lights. Behind her, their teenager suddenly said, “Hey, Mom, there's a guy praying on ‘911 Live’ for a baby!”
She turned away from the window and immediately saw Richard, Amy, and the paramedic, as Richard began to pray for God's help for Amy's baby. Cynthia listened for a moment, then reached for her telephone and called the three lead numbers on their church's prayer chain. Within three minutes over fifty members of her church were watching the same scene and interceding for God's mercy.
Across America, members of church prayer chains called each other to be sure that all were watching, and thousands of voices were added to the prayers for Amy's baby.
Kristen's elderly parents, watching on an old black and white television set at their farm in Texas, saw that the ambulance was in Kristen's city. They joined hands on their sofa, bowed their heads, and prayed.
Lou Thompson hated being so far from home so close to Christmas, but the same snow storm had disrupted the airline schedule, and he had to spend an extra night in a budget motel frequented by salesmen such as himself.
As he spoke to his wife on the phone, he used the remote control by the bed to flip through the TV channels. He was suddenly struck by the face of a teenage girl, tears running down her cheeks, as a man held her hand and bowed his head praying, a siren going in the background.
“Honey, do you have the television on?” he asked. “Flip to Network…” They both watched for a few minutes and listened to Richard's prayer, as they finished their conversation.
When he hung up the phone, Lou continued to watch the television, and his heart melted at the situation, thinking of his own teenage daughter and listening to the man in the ambulance pray so fervently. With tears filling his own eyes, Lou Thompson knelt by the bed in his motel room far from home, and for the first time in many years prayed to the God whom he had known so well in his youth.
Marty Tsongas came home late from the office and was walking through his den on the way to change clothes, when he looked at what his kids had on TV and saw Richard Sullivan praying with a girl in an ambulance. He rushed to the phone and called the Tomlinsons. “It's on Channel 7. Yeah, I promise it's Richard…. You see it now? Is that Amy Bryant? Oh, no.” And Marty called his wife into their bedroom, where they began praying.
Scott and Cindy Peterson in Tampa, changing channels that evening, suddenly saw Richard. They watched for a few moments and then joined him on their knees.
Kate Tomlinson changed channels when Patrick got Marty's call, and she gasped to see Richard and Amy on the screen in her living room. When she realized what was happening, she ran to Patrick, and they both knelt, bowing their heads and praying for their baby.
When Tom Bryant came within range of the local dialing area, he called home on his car phone to let his family know that he was on the way. He was surprised to hear Bruce McKinney on the other end; thirty seconds later he had changed his destination. And, having seen Richard do it on other occasions, he began to pray for his daughter.
Following behind the ambulance in Kristen's car, Susan asked Kristen to pray with her. Susan bowed her head while Kristen drove. Unknown to Susan, Kristen not only prayed for Amy and her baby, but also for herself, asking God for His forgiveness and committing to Him that from now on she would turn to His Son as the Lord of her life. Unseen by them in the darkness, the blinding Light of the Holy Spirit visited her car on the interstate that night.
All over America, in homes, at airports, in hotels, wherever there were televisions tuned to Network, believers joined in praying to their common Father, united in asking for His protection for this helpless baby.
* * *
As Janet and Nancy were descending the escalator to the second floor of King Department Store in the mall, Janet turned around and was talking to Nancy, when suddenly she heard her husband Richard, as if he were there, saying, “Dear Father, You know the courage of this girl, how she chose not to have an abortion. Please visit her now and protect her baby…”Janet saw the shock on Nancy's face, and she turned to face forward.
They could see a wall of hundreds of color televisions for sale, all tuned to TV5. There in front of them were Richard and Amy, and Richard's voice was reaching out to everyone in the video section of the store, praising God and asking for His help. They ran up to the huge thirty-six-inch screen. Many people noticed the overlay identifying their city on the screen, which had originally been Janet's idea.
As Richard's voice could clearly be heard praying, people stopped talking to salesmen and watched. A crowd started to gather; no one could use the escalator without seeing and hearing Richard's fervent prayers, which never stopped. In one corner of the video section a small group had formed and was praying together.
“Come on, we've got to go to the hospital,” Nancy said, pulling on Janet.
“But which one?” Janet asked.
“Memorial,” one of the people who had been watching said. The two women ran through the mall for Janet's car.
Millions of believers, and others, united in prayer that night, focused on an unborn baby, fighting for his life in his mother's womb. And as He has promised, God heard the prayers of His people.
God, who created time, was not affected by the network delay. He heard the prayers across time. He responded.
One of God's mighty angels, the same one who had chased Nepravel away from the abortion clinic, flew down and intercepted the ambulance. As Richard prayed and Amy gasped and millions of others asked for God's mercy, Richard laid his hand on Amy's stomach, and the angel reached inside her. With the same powerful talon he used to grasp and to explode demons, this angel tenderly and gently pulled the umbilical cord away from the baby's neck, loosening it and allowing the life-giving blood to reach the baby's brain unhindered.
The paramedic checked his readings during Amy's next two contractions and then said to Richard. “Hey, I hate to interrupt your prayer, but the baby isn't in distress any more. All of the readings are normal. I can't believe it. It's a miracle! I've never seen anything like it.”
Unknown to him, all over America millions of people heard his report, and they cheered, hugged, and wept. Many kept on praying, praising God and asking for His continued help for Amy and her baby.
Patrick Tomlinson hugged Kate and then picked up the phone to make airline reservations.
Kristen's father asked her mother, “I wonder if Kristen knows those people?”
The ambulance made it safely to the hospital, and the paramedics wheeled Amy and the unseen angel, still grasping the baby's umbilical chord with his talon, into the operating room. As standard procedure in such cases, the doctors performed a Caesarian section, and Nancy arrived in time to sign the necessary papers.
“911 Live” went off the air at 9:00, but Network was flooded with so many calls that at 9:45 they ran a crawl across the bottom of that evening's Friday Night Movie: “At 9:20 the young woman on ‘911 Live’ gave birth to a healthy, seven-pound baby boy. Mother and son are both doing fine.”
The instant overnight polls registered that, due to the word-of-mouth calls, the last thirty-minute segment of “911 Live” drew the largest audience the Network had ever experienced on a Friday night.