A Moment of Weakness

  So he took a quick breath and continued.

  He pulled the other two folders from his briefcase. “This”—he held up the research report put together by AnnaMae Williams—“has a breakdown of every very real statistic that changed for the better after a year of the Raise the Bar program.” He held up the document. “Page after page, Luke. It tells the story.”

  Wendell slid the report across the desk, and Luke walked over and picked it up. He glanced through it and set it down. “The third one?”

  “These are the personal stories of a dozen students whose lives and educational experience have been changed because of our Bible study meeting.” Wendell handed that folder to Luke. “It’s all there. Enough to win this case. I really believe that.”

  Luke sat back down. For the next few minutes he went over the precedents one more time. “This country—our courts and legal system, and especially our government—has been for most of the past decade very opposed to the Christian faith.” He hesitated. “You understand that, right?”

  This wasn’t going anywhere. Wendell didn’t want to talk precedents. He thought about telling Luke how he’d studied the founding fathers and that he knew all too well how far the country had drifted from its faith roots. Instead he sat back in his chair and studied his lawyer. “Tell me about yourself, Luke. Your family. Your faith.”

  The question seemed to take Luke by surprise. “Sure . . . okay.” He talked about being raised in a wonderful, godly family. “I was the golden boy, the youngest. The one who did everything right by God and my parents.” That was, he went on to say, until he and his girlfriend allowed things to go too far. “It was the night before 9/11. Her dad worked in one of the towers and because of . . . because of me, she didn’t take his final call. He tried to reach her that Monday night. September 10. And she was too busy with me to answer it. He died the next morning in the attacks.”

  Wendell felt his heart sink. Funny how you could sit across from a successful attorney like Luke Baxter and never know what he’d been through. What trials had shaped him. “What happened next?”

  Luke nodded. “It was awful.” He shook his head. “I’ve never told this to a potential client before. But since you asked . . .”

  He explained that his girlfriend, Reagan, broke up with him and went home to be with her grieving mother. While she was there she learned she was pregnant. Even then she wouldn’t talk to Luke. “After that, I got caught up in a terrible relationship with a girl who didn’t believe in God whatsoever. A complete rebellion on my part.”

  The story was more than Wendell could’ve imagined.

  “Thankfully I had my parents. So when I was ready to turn back home, someone was waiting with open arms and the truth of the Gospel.” Luke paused. “Eventually Reagan and I found each other again and I realized I was the father to a little boy named Tommy. Reagan’s birth experience nearly killed her. She couldn’t have more kids after that. We ended up marrying and now . . . well, now we have three kids. The last two were adopted.”

  Wendell listened to every word. His heart went out to Luke and all that he and his family had been through. But there was something Luke had said that stood out. “What was that part about your family? About them waiting with open arms?”

  Luke seemed puzzled, like he wasn’t sure where this was going. “Just that, my family was there for me. They forgave me and prayed with me and led me back to God. I don’t know where I’d be without them.”

  “Okay.” Wendell could feel the intensity in his eyes. “Now imagine you didn’t have a family like that. Imagine the only way you’d ever find your way back is a group that meets after school twice a week to read the Bible. A group of students and volunteer teachers who pray with you and care for you and point you to Jesus every single time you ask.”

  Slowly, Luke began to nod. He clenched his jaw and stared at the material on his desk. “We’ll have an uphill battle every step of the way.”

  “I realize that.” Wendell resisted the urge to celebrate. Never mind that the attorney across from him had just bared his heart. This was still a professional meeting.

  Luke stood and walked to the window. He turned and stared at Wendell. “We’ll be headline news in every paper, every TV station. And nearly everyone in positions of power will be shouting for us to lose.”

  Wendell folded his hands on Luke’s desk. “I know that, too.”

  For a long moment, Luke was quiet. Probably sorting through his options, his schedule. “I’ll take the case, Wendell. Pro bono. My fees are covered by donors who believe in religious freedom.”

  The reality came over Wendell like sun on a rainy day. “That’s incredible.”

  “It is. As bad as things are, there will be people out there on our side.” Luke thought for a minute. “Usually I have a good feeling about the cases I take.” His expression grew somber. “I don’t have that feeling this time.”

  “I understand.” Wendell gathered his presentation folders from Luke’s desk. “I’ll make you copies of these.”

  Luke ignored the offer—clearly he had his own way of doing things, and using someone else’s presentation folder and materials was almost certainly not that way. Luke walked Wendell to the door. “Pray that I’ll find a precedent case. Something like yours.”

  “I’ll pray. So will my kids and my students.” Wendell paused by Luke’s office door. “Thanks for telling me your story.”

  Luke smiled. “Next time, you tell yours. We’re going to need to be friends if God’s going to use us to pull this off.”

  “Deal.” The two shook hands and again Wendell contained himself. It wasn’t until he was almost to his car that Wendell stopped and raised both fists in the warm autumn afternoon air. “Thank You, God!” Wendell felt his smile stretch across his face. “I knew You’d convince him!”

  Just as he climbed behind the wheel, his phone rang. He didn’t check to see who it was before answering. So when he heard the voice on the other end, his heart skipped a beat.

  “Wendell.” She sounded kind, strong. “I can’t talk long, but this call is overdue.”

  “Alicia.” Wendell’s mind raced and he closed his eyes. “It’s good to hear your voice.” Clearly she was not too afraid to reach out to him. Even with the national negative attention he was receiving.

  “How are you?” She cared. Her question was deeper than Lake Michigan.

  “I’m okay. I really am.” Wendell leaned back and opened his eyes. He stared out the window at the sky. “God is working. Even today.”

  “I’m sure.” This was definitely a new Alicia. She drew a full breath. “You’re in trouble, but you’re going to get through this, Wendell. I’ve been praying.” She paused. “So what happened today?”

  Wendell hadn’t thought the day could get better, but it just did. “Well . . . I now have the very best lawyer! Luke Baxter is going to work with me.”

  “Hmm.” She paused for a second. “Luke Baxter. I haven’t heard of him.”

  “He’s the best religious freedom lawyer in the nation.” Wendell couldn’t stop smiling. “He’s taking my case, Alicia.”

  “That’s great!” She sounded truly happy for him. “God is already ahead of you. Working for you.” Alicia hesitated for a longer beat. “I just . . . I wanted you to know I’m here for you. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.” He had been willing to lose her if it took that to help the students. To help her. But right now . . . Wendell only wished he could drive his car straight to her house and see her.

  She was the friend he needed.

  “After this craziness . . . could I take you to dinner? Even as a friend?”

  Her answer came soft and certain. “I’d love that.”

  Wendell could hardly believe her response. He put his hand on the wheel. “Until then . . . keep praying. And I’ll keep praying for you.”

  “I will. Thanks.” Her sureness was there again. “And hey, I’ve stopped my medication. My doctor is thrilled. No panic at
tacks. God is . . . He’s healing me, Wendell. A little more every day.”

  “That’s amazing.” It was the best news of all. He remembered that she didn’t have long to talk. They would catch up in detail later, over dinner. “So . . . thanks for calling. I’ll keep you posted. About the lawsuit.”

  “Please.” The love he’d felt from her before was there again. Not in words, and maybe only as a friend. But it was there. “Oh, and . . .” her smile was audible, “it’s good to hear your voice, too.”

  He wanted so badly to see her, hold her hands. Take her in his arms. “Talk to you soon, Alicia. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Wendell spent much of the ride home thinking about her. She was right. He was going to get through this. He wasn’t doomed, the way the media made it sound. And with Luke Baxter, his very talented attorney, Wendell could win this case. He believed it. Because in the most difficult moments ahead, people would pray. Even Alicia. And it wouldn’t be only Luke acting as his advocate in that courtroom.

  But God Himself.

  14

  Luke had a pit in the center of his stomach.

  The hearing was in less than an hour at the Indianapolis Civil Court. Like he’d told Wendell last Monday, typically he didn’t take a case unless he had a good feeling he could win it. The way he felt about his other current cases. Like the one that involved a teacher at Clear Creek High School who had blown the whistle on a group of students, including his niece Jessie.

  Jessie was a sixteen-year-old sophomore at the school, and part of the cheerleading squad. Every week before the football game, she and the other cheerleaders created a paper banner to encourage the football team. The banner always included a Bible verse.

  Now the teacher had contacted the school district, and the school district had ordered Jessie and the cheerleaders to stop making mention of the Bible verse on the signs. Never do it again, they were told.

  Well, that was a violation of their religious freedoms, and Luke didn’t mind saying so. He had written a letter to the school district, and he fully expected the situation to settle out of court. The school district would not want a public battle, which they would certainly lose because it didn’t line up with the three-part test.

  But that was not the case with Wendell Quinn.

  The good news—which he’d repeatedly assured Wendell about—was this: There would be no jail time for Wendell. “At least at this point, people don’t get sent to jail for reading the Bible or praying in a public place,” he had told Wendell when they met last week at Hamilton High. “But you could lose your job at any point.”

  Wendell understood that. He told Luke how James Black had promised to fire him if Wendell continued the club. But so far the district had kept him on.

  Wendell had smiled. “The apostle Paul said to consider it pure joy whenever we face trials of many kinds.”

  If that was Wendell’s role model, it was working. Luke couldn’t believe how joyful the man was, how sure that somehow God was going to give them a miracle. Luke only wished he felt the same way. As a lawyer, he’d seen several cases go his way when they shouldn’t have. But even then he had been mostly sure he would win.

  This case was the opposite. He was almost certain they would lose. Something even Reagan and Luke’s father had recently expressed concern about. But truly, if Luke lost this case, he’d be okay. The religious freedom incidents would keep coming, and he would keep getting better at defending them. Barring some landmark decision against religious freedom from the Supreme Court, Luke would have a job in this area.

  But Wendell . . . Wendell could be out of work tomorrow. The situation was that serious.

  Luke surveyed the courtroom. Like most it was plain, with yellowy wood-paneled walls and two rows of chairs, six to a row, for the times when a jury was needed. The spectator section held another forty seats or so, and the judge’s desk sat at the center, on a platform high enough to preside over the room.

  Wendell stepped into the space and approached Luke. A smile filled the man’s face. “It starts today. We’re going to win this thing.” He looked around. “Where do I sit?”

  “With me.” Luke really liked the guy. Already he’d been to the man’s house and to his school. Wendell’s faith and his love for his family and his students were as genuine as sunshine. He was a good guy, and it was an honor to represent him. No matter how the case turned out.

  “We’ll share this table.” Luke took the inside seat and Wendell sat in the outer one. Luke pointed to the table on the other side of the courtroom. “That’s where Andy Nelson and his attorney will sit.”

  Wendell seemed to survey the situation. He nodded to the judge’s chair. “That’s for the judge?”

  “Yes.”

  “So the decision will come from there?” Wendell seemed to study the empty place. “Is that right?”

  “I hope not.” Luke chuckled. The hearing was slated for ten that morning. “The goal today is to convince the judge that we need a trial. That there’s enough information on our behalf to at least let a jury decide.”

  Wendell nodded. “That’s right.” He narrowed his eyes. “The other option is the judge decides and we win or lose today?”

  Luke hesitated. “Yes.” If the judge decided without a jury, the case would most definitely go against them. He had been over that with Wendell. “That’s right.”

  “Well, then, good thing I brought this.” Wendell set his briefcase on the table and pulled out the three presentation folders. “I made you copies of everything I have.” He handed the three folders to Luke. “Here you go.”

  There was no kind way to explain that Wendell’s information couldn’t possibly win this case. Luke set the folders to the side of the table and smiled. “Thanks, Wendell. If cases were won or lost based on enthusiasm, we’d have a slam-dunk win.”

  Next into the courtroom that morning were Jordy Quinn and Cami Nelson. Luke had met them at Hamilton High last week. The two were both in the Raise the Bar club, and if chemistry was any indication, the pair had a thing for each other.

  Jordy walked to the edge of the spectator section and motioned for Luke to come closer. “Mr. Baxter, thank you for letting us be here today. All of our teachers signed off, so we could miss school.”

  “You’re always welcome. It’s an open courtroom.” Luke admired the young man. Jordy was polite and well-spoken. It was obvious the boy had a strong faith, and the respect he showed his father was unusual for a high school senior.

  Jordy looked at his father and then back at Luke. “I’m nervous for my dad, sir. I’ll do . . . whatever you need to help him out. I can testify or talk to the judge privately. Whatever would help.”

  Luke stifled a smile. The young man could make a fine attorney one day. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the offer.”

  As it neared ten o’clock, Andy Nelson and his attorney entered and took their seats. Andy looked angry and shut off. He didn’t make eye contact with Luke or Wendell, not even with his daughter—at least as far as Luke could tell. The two men whispered for a few minutes, and Andy nodded twice.

  The bailiff stood at attention. “All rise . . .”

  As soon as those in the courtroom were on their feet, the bailiff continued. “The Honorable Judge Catherine Wells.”

  From a door behind her grand chair, the judge entered the room. She took her seat and motioned to the small crowd. “You may be seated.” She looked at her desk. “First on the docket is Nelson versus Quinn.” The judge was in her late fifties. Luke had represented religious freedom cases in her courtroom three times before.

  All cases Luke had won.

  But that didn’t mean the woman was favorable to Christian beliefs or Luke Baxter. She always seemed put out about Luke’s defense. Like it was a waste of her time to even talk about the rights of people to practice religion in a public space.

  The right to worship in private churches and homes was one thing. A public display of faith was another.
In schools most of all.

  Okay, Lord . . . we’re going to need You here. Please give me the words. When Wendell and Luke met together at the principal’s house, the two of them had prayed about today’s hearing. Luke wasn’t sure if Wendell understood the gravity of today’s proceeding.

  But God did.

  Since Andy Nelson was the plaintiff bringing the case, his attorney was permitted to go first. “The matter here is very simple, Your Honor.” Andy was represented by Eli Landsford, one of the most experienced antireligion lawyers in the business, a manipulative, fast-talking man from Washington, D.C. Landsford flew around the country taking cases that were easy antireligion wins.

  As soon as Luke had learned that Landsford was taking Andy’s case, his hopes sank. This was one more reason to believe the obvious. The case ahead of him was a no-win situation.

  Landsford was known for doing anything to establish precedent and a general sense that indeed, a person might end up in jail if he or she so much as talked about God in public spaces. Something untrue, but that didn’t matter. Perception was more than half the battle in the fight for religious freedom.

  Landsford had said in interviews that if people thought they weren’t allowed to talk about God, most of them would give up their rights without a fight. Wendell Quinn was not one of those. Like Luke, Landsford worked pro bono. Public support for this type of trial went both ways.

  Luke felt his determination double.

  “Explain the plaintiff’s position.” The judge sounded bored, as if she longed for something more interesting than a religious freedom case.

  Eli Landsford was on his feet. The man’s shoes cost more than Luke’s car payment, if he had to guess. “As I said, Your Honor, we have a very cut-and-dried case here. The defendant, Hamilton High Principal Wendell Quinn, has been leading a voluntary student Bible study after school for the past year.” He adjusted the cuff links on his shirtsleeves and smiled at Judge Wells. “As you know, precedent clearly dictates that Principal Quinn’s actions are inappropriate and illegal. A complete violation of church and state.”