floor as a large microphone descended from the ceiling and stopped within inches of Raelynn Blackwell’s lips. Bernadette braced herself. Soon the microphone would receive her final words, the warden would give the signal, and the chemicals would be released. Soon, Raelynn Blackwell would be dead and it would all be over.
She looked into Raelynn’s tearless eyes and remembered how strange it had seemed to her that, in spite of the ninety-five degree temperature in the visiting room at Gatesville that day, the woman hadn’t even broken out in a sweat.
“I’m ready to die,” Bernadette remembered her saying. “It’s what I deserve.”
Just as the heat hadn’t bothered Raelynn Blackwell that day, so too death was going to come easy for her now—unlike the cruel, painful death she had inflicted on Veronica. Bernadette clenched her jaw. Maybe this wasn’t the appropriate punishment after all. Shouldn’t she have to suffer more than this? She bit her lower lip and felt the heat of shame on her neck. After all her work with Regis, all those hours confronting Raelynn Blackwell, had it all boiled down to this—to her wanting Raelynn Blackwell to suffer as much as Veronica had? Bernadette started to cry. It wasn’t right, it just wasn’t right for Raelynn Blackwell to be at peace with herself and her god when Bernadette wasn’t. Not only was it not right; it wasn’t fair. But, then, what did it matter? Nothing could make things right again. Nothing could bring Veronica back. There could be no redemption.
Just then, the curtain snapped shut across the viewing window. The repulsive man stormed into the tiny room, out of breath.
“Sorry, folks,” he said, “if you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you to the warden.”
SEVEN
The pro-execution crowd, fearing the worst, grew angrier by the minute, while the anti-death penalty crowd, hoping for the best, became more subdued. Just as Fin’s eyes were darting between two opposing signs—“Die, Bitch, Die!”and “The Only Solution Is Love” — a burly bald man with bulging eyes jumped in front of Chuck and waved a noose right in his face. The noose was fastened to a sign that said “Raelynn Blackwell, It’s Your Time.” Fin threw himself in front of Chuck, and a police officer pulled the man away shortly after, leaving the two of them shaken.
“Time to step back a bit, maybe?” Chuck said, his eyes wide with fear.
They tried to move, but with so many people crammed together, getting away from the growing chaos proved to be impossible. At the sound of scuffling and shouting several feet to their right, Fin and Chuck stood on their toes and craned their necks to see what was going on, increasingly afraid that things might soon spiral out of control.
“She’s a child of God.” A white-haired man waved a tattered Bible in the face of a young man with a crew cut.
“She’s a cold-blooded murderer.” The young man waved a sign back in the old man’s face. The sign said “No Special Favors For So-Called Believers.”
The crowd behind the young man started to chant: “Justice, not religion. Justice, not religion.”
The police moved in and dragged the young man away, and the man with the Bible fell to his knees.
“Pray for those who despise you,” Chuck muttered.
Fin didn’t say anything. Religion was one of the things about which he and Chuck didn’t see eye to eye, to say the least. Fin berated organized religion for inflicting pain on people in the name of God, while Chuck still attended services at the Baptist church in which he’d grown up, where he felt loved and accepted. Fin loved Chuck, yet there was something other than religion that kept them from being more than friends; while Fin dreamed of adopting a couple of kids someday, Chuck showed no interest in being a father. Not that they’d ever discussed the matter openly. Fin was too afraid.
“Kill the bitch! Do it now! Kill the bitch! Do it now!” The crowd’s chants reached a
She looked into Raelynn’s tearless eyes and remembered how strange it had seemed to her that, in spite of the ninety-five degree temperature in the visiting room at Gatesville that day, the woman hadn’t even broken out in a sweat.
“I’m ready to die,” Bernadette remembered her saying. “It’s what I deserve.”
Just as the heat hadn’t bothered Raelynn Blackwell that day, so too death was going to come easy for her now—unlike the cruel, painful death she had inflicted on Veronica. Bernadette clenched her jaw. Maybe this wasn’t the appropriate punishment after all. Shouldn’t she have to suffer more than this? She bit her lower lip and felt the heat of shame on her neck. After all her work with Regis, all those hours confronting Raelynn Blackwell, had it all boiled down to this—to her wanting Raelynn Blackwell to suffer as much as Veronica had? Bernadette started to cry. It wasn’t right, it just wasn’t right for Raelynn Blackwell to be at peace with herself and her god when Bernadette wasn’t. Not only was it not right; it wasn’t fair. But, then, what did it matter? Nothing could make things right again. Nothing could bring Veronica back. There could be no redemption.
Just then, the curtain snapped shut across the viewing window. The repulsive man stormed into the tiny room, out of breath.
“Sorry, folks,” he said, “if you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you to the warden.”
SEVEN
The pro-execution crowd, fearing the worst, grew angrier by the minute, while the anti-death penalty crowd, hoping for the best, became more subdued. Just as Fin’s eyes were darting between two opposing signs—“Die, Bitch, Die!”and “The Only Solution Is Love” — a burly bald man with bulging eyes jumped in front of Chuck and waved a noose right in his face. The noose was fastened to a sign that said “Raelynn Blackwell, It’s Your Time.” Fin threw himself in front of Chuck, and a police officer pulled the man away shortly after, leaving the two of them shaken.
“Time to step back a bit, maybe?” Chuck said, his eyes wide with fear.
They tried to move, but with so many people crammed together, getting away from the growing chaos proved to be impossible. At the sound of scuffling and shouting several feet to their right, Fin and Chuck stood on their toes and craned their necks to see what was going on, increasingly afraid that things might soon spiral out of control.
“She’s a child of God.” A white-haired man waved a tattered Bible in the face of a young man with a crew cut.
“She’s a cold-blooded murderer.” The young man waved a sign back in the old man’s face. The sign said “No Special Favors For So-Called Believers.”
The crowd behind the young man started to chant: “Justice, not religion. Justice, not religion.”
The police moved in and dragged the young man away, and the man with the Bible fell to his knees.
“Pray for those who despise you,” Chuck muttered.
Fin didn’t say anything. Religion was one of the things about which he and Chuck didn’t see eye to eye, to say the least. Fin berated organized religion for inflicting pain on people in the name of God, while Chuck still attended services at the Baptist church in which he’d grown up, where he felt loved and accepted. Fin loved Chuck, yet there was something other than religion that kept them from being more than friends; while Fin dreamed of adopting a couple of kids someday, Chuck showed no interest in being a father. Not that they’d ever discussed the matter openly. Fin was too afraid.
“Kill the bitch! Do it now! Kill the bitch! Do it now!” The crowd’s chants reached a
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