Troy Barrett shivered as he lay on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell. His head spun. How had he ended up here? It was all a blur. He remembered being outside a night club. He’d had his usual night out with his mates and had a few drinks. Maybe he’d had more than he remembered. Or maybe his drink had been spiked. Maybe that’s why he struggled to remember how it all happened. He remembered the crunch when he hit the dude. He also remembered running, and the bang on the door that sent him hiding for cover. And being hauled outside and thrown into a copper’s car.
But he didn’t go around hitting people. Even if everyone assumed he did just because he was black. He didn’t do that kind of thing.
And now they’d charged him with assault. If the dude died, he’d be up for murder. Murder… Twenty-five years in jail. He wouldn’t survive, and his mother would disown him forever. And so would Stephanie. He began to whimper. He couldn’t do twenty-five years. He just couldn’t.
Maybe he hadn’t done it. Maybe he was being framed. They did that to black fellas. But the sickening crunch when his hand had connected with the dude’s head confirmed he’d done it. And besides, they said he’d been caught on camera. He’d done it, all right. But why? How? His stomach convulsed and he face planted into the putrid toilet bowl, spewing up the entire contents of his stomach.
Moans escaped from deep down as he collapsed onto the floor and curled into a ball, whimpering, crying.
Sometime later, he had no idea how long, the door opened and rough hands hauled him up. “Come on, Barrett. They’re waiting for you.”
“I need to see a doctor. I’m not feeling good.” Troy clutched his stomach.
“You don’t smell too good, either. You black fellas are all the same.” The policeman scowled as he shoved Troy into the back of the waiting police van and slammed the door in his face.
Troy landed on the bare metal floor and hurt his arm. He pulled himself slowly onto one of the two seats and then, nursing his arm, lowered his head between his knees. He may as well be dead.
The van travelled just a short distance and stopped. The same policeman yanked the door open and dragged him out. Cameras clicked and journalists shoved microphones into Troy’s face. Another policeman shielded him and moved him quickly inside the court house. “Wait there, Barrett. Your lawyer wants a word.”
Left in a room with no windows, just bare walls, one table and two plastic chairs, Troy struggled to breathe. Didn’t they know that black fellas couldn’t handle being locked up? Or don’t they care?
He struggled to remember what the lawyer he’d been assigned looked like. He vaguely remembered her voice… soft, sweet. She’d never get him off.
After what seemed an eternity, the door opened and she entered. Now he remembered… not only was her voice soft and sweet, but so was she. What hope did he have?
“How are you, Troy? Are they treating you well?”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her pretty face. Not because he was interested in her. She was old enough to be his mother. No, it was because she was nice to look at, and she was being nice to him. The only other person who’d ever treated him like that was Stephanie, but she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him now that he’d stuffed up big time. He shrugged. What could he say?
“I take that as a no.” She shook her head and sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to get you out of here. They probably won’t give you bail, but I’ll do my best. I guess there’s no one who could put up any money?”
“What do you think?” He tried not to sound petty, but of course there was no one.
“Okay. I’ll try to fast track your hearing date so you don’t need to stay in any longer than you need to. Do you really not remember what led to you hitting that boy?”
Tears stung Troy’s eyes. “Nuh.”
“What can you remember?”
Troy sniffed and wiped his face with his arm. “I remember being at the GPO with me mates. We were havin’ a good ol time. You know, dancin’ and drinkin’. I didn’t have many—just the cheap stuff. After that, it’s all a blur.”
“My guess is that your drink was spiked, or that you’d drunk more than you thought you had.”
“What’s goin’ to happen to me?” His chest burned and he began to whimper.
“That depends very much on what happens to the boy. Or if we can prove someone spiked your drink.”
“Is he… is he gonna die?”
She looked at him with soft eyes. “We don’t know, but it’s not looking good.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hit him. I don’t know what happened.”
She handed him a tissue. “I know you didn’t, and that will go in your favour, but it might not be enough to get you off. I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anything. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time. If you don’t get bail, I’ll come and see you at the Remand Centre.”
His chest tightened and he couldn’t speak. He’d rather die than stay locked up.
After lunch, Ben telephoned Keith and Leah back home at ‘Misty Morn’. For the past three years Keith had managed the cabins while Leah worked in the craft store in Maryvale. They lived in one of the larger cabins and helped look after the farm animals when needed. Ben had no concerns about leaving the property in their capable hands, but he had to tell them he had no idea how long he and Tessa would be away.
“It’s not a problem, Ben. Stay as long as you need with your boy.”
“Thanks, Keith. I appreciate it.”
“It’s us who should be thanking you. You and Tessa have been a godsend for Leah and me. We’ll be praying for you all.”
Ben smiled at the older man’s gratitude and concern. Even though almost four years had passed since Tessa had been instrumental in reuniting Keith and Leah after forty years apart, Keith still made it sound like it had happened yesterday. He and Leah were so much in love, and they did everything they could to make up for the lost years. And now that Simon, the son Leah had been forced to give up for adoption, was finally in regular contact with them, they were the happiest couple in the whole of the Mary Valley.
After ending the call with Keith, Ben called his office in Gympie where he worked as an accountant and told his boss he wasn’t sure how much leave he’d need.
Like Keith, Ben’s boss told him to take as long as required. They’d cover for him—it was the least they could do. It seemed everyone had already heard the news.
Ben made the other calls, one to the pastor of the church at Maryvale and the other to the Morgans in Hunters Hollow, Montana. Ben gripped the phone tightly after dialling their number. Tessa had checked the times, and it was nine o’clock in the evening there, so they expected someone to be home. The phone almost rang out. Just as Ben was about to hang up, Robert Morgan answered.
“Hello. Rob Morgan here.” He sounded breathless, as if he’d sprinted for the phone.
“Rob. Ben Williams here. How are you?”
“Ben! I’m great! And you?”
Ben gulped. “I’ve got bad news, I’m sorry. We thought you should know…”
“I don’t like the sound of that. What’s happened?”
“It’s Jayden.” Ben gulped again. He knew how hard the Morgans, especially, Angela, would take the news. “He’s in a coma in the hospital.”
“No.” Robert’s voice was filled with disbelief.
“He was king hit last night. He was knocked out, and his head hit the pavement hard when he fell. They don’t know if he’ll make it.” Ben’s voice faltered.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. It’s terrible news. Angie will be devastated.”
“Is she there?”
“No, she’ll be home for the summer break on the weekend. I’ll call her and let her know, but I’d be surprised if she doesn’t know already.”
“It only happened last night.”
“Yes, but you know how these kids are. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram.”
“The media have only just released his name.”
“Do they know who did it?”
“Yes. Some black kid. He’s just been remanded.”
“At least that’s something.”
“I guess so. He’ll do life if Jayden doesn’t make it.”
“Hang in there. Jayden’s a strong kid. And we’ve got a great God.” Rob’s voice was filled with compassion and confidence.
“I know, but that doesn’t always mean we get what we want.”
“I hear you. But He gives us what’s best, and He’ll help you through this, whatever the outcome. Tell Tessa we’ll be praying, and let us know if there’s anything we can do.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m not sure what else you can do from across the globe, but thanks anyway. Wait. There is one thing. Do you know where Kathryn is?”
“I heard she’d gone somewhere in Texas. I’ll try to find out.”
“Thanks. We should let her know, just in case…”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure. Take care, Ben. And keep us posted.”
“I will.”
As Ben ended the call, Tessa slipped her arms around his waist and embraced him from behind, resting her head against his shoulders. He felt drained, tired and his head ached, but Tessa’s soft touch soothed him. He rested in her arms for a few seconds, drawing strength from her. He turned around and looked into her eyes. “I think I’ll take a shower and grab a few minutes of sleep.”
“That’s a good idea, sweetie. You’re looking really pale.” She ran her finger down his cheek.
“I’m just tired.”
“I know. Off you go. I’ll see how Mum’s doing with the girls. She was trying to get them to take a nap as well now that Zoe’s gone.”
“Thanks.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead before releasing her and heading to the bathroom.
An hour later, Ben and Tessa returned to the hospital. Neither had slept—how could they with Jayden lying there in such a desperate condition? Naomi and Bella had wanted to come, but in the end settled for ice cream.
Despite trusting God with the outcome, every minute they expected to receive a call from the hospital to say Jayden hadn’t made it. If that was God’s will, although they desperately hoped it wasn’t, they wanted to be there with him in his final moments.
They hurried from the car park, totally focussed on reaching Jayden’s bedside as quickly as possible. They didn’t notice the throng of reporters and cameramen at the main entrance until too late. Ben grabbed Tessa’s hand and tried to push his way through, but the mob bombarded them and they became stuck in the middle.
“Can you tell us how your son is, Mr. Williams?” one young female reporter asked as she shoved a microphone in Ben’s face.
“Is he going to make it?” another asked.
“Do you have anything to say to Troy Barrett?” The questions were endless.
“We have nothing to say at this time. Please respect our privacy.” Ben dipped his head and pushed through, dragging Tessa with him.
“But Mr. Williams, please, we’d love to know how you’re both coping. It must be terrible for you.”
Ben stopped. He looked up and met the young reporter’s gaze. “Yes, it is terrible, and we thank our family and friends for their support and prayers, but we really just need to be with our son right now. I’m sure you understand. Thank you for your interest, but please let us through.”
“We wish you all the best, and we pray he makes it.”
“Thank you. So do we.” Ben gave a short nod and headed through the doors without any further interruption. He led Tessa to the lifts and blew out a heavy breath as they waited. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Neither did I. You handled them well.” She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, a proud smile on her face.
“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand. “I doubt they’ll leave us alone.”
“I think you’re right. At least until something happens.”
Just then, Ben’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, but not recognising the number, ignored it. He had no desire to talk with a telemarketer today. The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. The Intensive Care Unit was two floors up, so within moments they stepped out, just as the same number flashed on his screen again.
“Maybe you should take it.” Tessa leaned closer and looked at it.
He shook his head. “It’s probably someone from India trying to sell something.”
“But it might not be. It could be Kathryn.”
He sighed and met her gaze. “I guess it could be. I’d better take it.” He hit the green icon.
“Mr. Williams?” a young, vaguely familiar female American voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Angela. Angela Morgan.”
“Angela! I’m sorry, I thought you were one of those annoying telemarketers.”
“It’s okay. I just heard about Jayden. How… how is he?”
“He’s still in a coma. We’re just going in now to see him.”
“Dad said he might not make it.” Her voice was small, fragile.
“We’re praying he will, but yes, the doctors don’t know yet.”
“I’m going to come out. I want to be there for him.”
“Angela, it’s such a long way, and haven’t you got exams?”
“They’re finished, and I don’t care how far it is. I’ll book the first flight I can get and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Tessa squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes, her own filled with tears.
“Will you come on your own?”
“I think so.”
“Jayden will appreciate it.”
“I don’t want him to die, Mr. Williams. I’ll be praying the whole time.”
“We don’t either, and thank you. If you’re sure you want to come, you’ll be most welcome.”
“I do, and thank you. I’ll call once I’ve booked a flight.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure I answer this time.”
“Thank you.”
After ending the call, Ben ran his hand through his hair and looked at Tessa. “You heard all of that?”
Tessa nodded, dabbing her eyes. “She must really love him. So much for her new boyfriend.”
“Yes, I think so.”
“I really hope he lives.” Tessa burst into tears.
Ben pulled her close and rubbed her back. “So do I, believe me. So do I.”
Moments later, after Tessa wiped her face and composed herself, they entered the Intensive Care Ward. The large group that had been there earlier had dispersed, and now only Stephanie’s mother Vanessa, Fraser’s wife Tracy, and another young woman Ben didn’t recognise, sat there. The three women stood as they entered the waiting area.
“Ben, Tessa.” Tracy stepped towards them, her hands extended, her voice soft and gentle. “I’m so sorry. No one can believe this has happened.”
Ben took one of her hands and kissed her cheek. “We’re still trying to come to terms with it too.”
“I can imagine. Do you know Bridget? Bridget’s one of the youth leaders and a good friend of Jayden’s.” Tracy slipped her arm around Bridget’s waist.
“I don’t think we do.” Ben smiled at the young woman and nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, and this is Tessa.” He placed his arm around Tessa’s waist.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Bridget’s eyes moistened. “I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
“We understand. Thank you for coming.”
“It was the least I could do. Jayden’s one of the good ones.” Her voice choked.
Tracy gave Bridget’s hand a quick squeeze and then looked at Tessa. “Your friend’s still in there with Jayden. I offered to give her a break, but she said she was fine.”
Tessa smiled. “That would be right. We’d best get in there and relieve her.”
“Of course. We’ll let you go. Be assured of our prayers and support.” She reached out and took Tessa’s hands, but her gaze shifted between hers and Ben’s. “If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”
“Thank you.” Ben smiled at her and then, with a nod and his hand on the small of Tessa’s back, headed to the reception desk.
An older nurse who hadn’t been there that morning looked up. “Mr. and Mrs. Williams?”
“Yes.”
“The doctor asked me to inform him when you returned. I’ll page him now.”
Ben stiffened. “Has something changed?”
“I don’t think so. He just wants to see you.” She held the phone to her ear and gave them an apologetic smile. “Go in, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks.” Ben led Tessa along the ward past the other beds and paused outside Jayden’s cubicle. He turned her to face him and rubbed her arms. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”