“It’s imperative that I find him before they do.”
Reverend Jacobs had been looking off, but now he turned directly to me. “If you find him,” he said, “what do you plan to do?”
“Help him,” I said.
“Help him how?”
“Any way I can,” I said.
Reverend Jacobs hesitated, then began again. “I spoke to Sister Reid earlier this morning,” he said. “She seems to believe that Curtis did the right thing. She seems to believe that his only chance is to get away from here and never come back. I don’t agree with that,” Reverend Jacobs said. “Do you?”
“No, sir,” I said. “I don’t.”
Reverend Jacobs let out a deep sigh, then leaned back in his chair. “I know he’s frightened, but running is not the answer. If I could talk to him, I would tell him that.”
“What is the answer, Reverend?” I asked.
“Jesus,” he said.
His answer caught me off guard. I frowned but remained silent. I saw the reverend studying my face.
“You believe that, don’t you, son?”
I hesitated. Yes, I knew what was going on. He was seeking to know me. He was trying to determine whether he could trust me or not.
“Well, Reverend,” I said. “Right now it doesn’t really matter what I believe. It only matters what Little Man believes. And when it comes to faith, I have to defer to you.”
“His faith is strong,” Peaches said. “I can vouch for that.”
“Yes,” Reverend Jacobs said, nodding as he spoke. “The Curtis I know is a good and faithful servant.”
“I just want to find him,” I said, attempting to drive home my concern. “I just want to find him before they do.”
“You will,” the reverend said. “God willing.”
I decided to change the subject. I did not want to talk about God, nor did I want to talk about myself. I wanted to talk about Little Man. I looked at the reverend. He was still looking at me.
“Did you visit him much while he was incarcerated?” I asked, hoping that Little Man might have said something to him that might give me some indication where he might be.
“At least once a week,” he said, “sometimes more. Why?”
“How was he handling jail?”
“Not very well,” Reverend Jacobs said. “He was having trouble sleeping, and he had all but stopped eating.”
“Did he ever talk to you about prison?”
“He talked about it constantly.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would rather die than be locked up for the rest of his life for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“He said that?”
“On more than one occasion.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him he couldn’t think like that. And I promised him that I would do everything I could to help him get to the truth. I would always end our conversation by giving him some Scriptures to read, Scriptures that I thought would keep him encouraged.”
“So, you believe he’s innocent?”
“With all of my heart,” the reverend said.
“So do I,” Peaches said.
“Really?” I said, looking at her.
“Really,” she said
I looked at the reverend. He leaned back in his chair and stared into the distance.
“I’ve stood by him,” he said. “I’ve stood by him every step of the way. And I will continue to stand by him.”
“If he comes back, does he have a chance to beat this thing?” I asked.
“Yes,” Reverend Jacobs said. “He does.”
“You really believe that.”
“Son, I’ve hired one of the best appeals attorneys in the state. And he’s been working on Curtis’s case for the last five months. And he assures me that in time, he believes Curtis’s conviction will be overturned.”
“Does Curtis know that?” Peaches asked. “I mean, have you told him?”
“He knows,” the reverend said. “But for some reason or another, I guess he panicked.” The reverend shook his head. “I never figured he would run.”
“Why not?” I asked him.
“I just didn’t,” the reverend said.
“Reverend, when a man’s facing twenty-five years to life, he might do anything—especially if he’s doing somebody else’s time.”
“He should have been patient,” Reverend Jacobs said.
“You ever been locked up, Reverend?”
“D’Ray!” Peaches said in a tone indicating she felt the question to be inappropriate.
“It’s okay,” Reverend Jacobs said. “I’ll answer the question.” He looked up at me again. “No, I haven’t.”
“Then you don’t know what it’s like,” I said. “Do you?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t.”
I saw Peaches open her mouth as if she was going to say something else, but before she could, I interrupted her.
“Well, Reverend,” I said. “Let me tell you what it’s like. You sit in a tiny cell day after day, night after night, watching those cement walls close in on you while hoping against hope that time will hurry up and pass. But time don’t hurry up and pass. So you just sit there trying to talk your mind into maintaining its sanity. And you keep telling yourself that you’re a man. And as a man, you’ll do the time because you did the crime. But what if you didn’t do the crime, Reverend? What do you tell yourself then? Do you know what that must be like, Reverend—facing twenty-five years to life for a crime you didn’t commit?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t. But I do know Curtis. Something spooked him. I don’t know what. But I do know it’s not in his character to run.”
“I don’t know his character,” I said. “I’ve been away too long.”
“Well I do,” Reverend Jacobs said. “It’s impeccable.”
“He’s a good person,” Peaches said. “Everybody says so.”
“Is he violent?” I asked, looking at her.
“No,” Reverend Jacobs said, answering for her, “absolutely not.” I looked at the reverend.
“Do you think he’s still using drugs?”
“No,” he said. “I’m certain he’s not.”
“Did he hang out with people who were doing drugs?”
“He didn’t hang out,” the reverend said. “He went to work during the week, and he ran his substance-abuse program on the weekend.”
“Where did he work?”
“He worked for the utility company.”
“Doing what?”
“He drove one of the utility trucks. I believe he repaired power lines, but I’m not sure. But whatever he did, he was usually alone. I believe he liked it that way.”
“Reverend,