A Mother's Tears | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: A Mother's Tears | Previous Challenge Entry
By SHANEIL HARADA
11/19/06
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“Dead man walking!” The voice shouted as steel doors clanged shut behind him. Tonight was the night that James Charles Davidson would pay the price for murdering fourteen young women. He was led down the long hall and into the cold death chamber. A preacher came and prayed with him and then he was prepared for death by lethal injection. He was strapped to a metal gurney and wheeled into place. The needles were prepared and the onlookers watched from behind the thick glass wall.

An older woman had stood as he was wheeled into the room. She was now standing at the glass, watching as the clock counted down to the time he was scheduled to die. Parents of his victims and other witnesses held their breath as the guard stepped up to the switch and pulled it down. Liquid started draining from one vial after another into the condemned man’s veins. Finally the poison reached his blood and he convulsed violently; once, twice, and then all was still.

The woman at the glass lowered herself to her knees and the others in the room could see tears spilling down her cheeks. A man looked at her with disgust. “How could you cry for that…that monster?” She paid him no heed as she bowed her head and prayed, tears still falling. Jessica Marcus, the mother of Anna Marie Marcus, the condemned man’s fourth victim, stepped forward. She shouldered past the man who had spoken and knelt beside the crying woman. Wrapping her arm comfortingly around the woman’s shoulders, she looked up at the man and answered his question. “He’s not just a monster to her. He’s her son.”

The disgusted man now turned his condemning look on her. “How can you comfort her? She’s crying for the man that murdered your daughter.” He shook his head and stormed from the room in a huff. The old woman looked up at Jessica, gratitude and confusion etched on her tear stained face. “He’s right you know. You have no reason to comfort me, my son took your little girl from you.”

Fresh tears fell from Jessica’s eyes as she looked down at her sadly. “Yes, that’s true.” She thought for a moment, her arm never leaving the old woman’s shoulders. “But don’t you see? We have to stick together; we’re mothers.” Helping the old woman to her feet, Jessica led her from the room. Before they parted ways, Jessica placed a gentle hand on the old woman’s face and said, “Our children are in God’s hands now.”

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