“Same as with the white light. I believe that there is such a place as hell, though I don’t know the exact nature of it. I do believe it is separation from God, and some people who have almost died have been given the gift of seeing how horrible it will be.”

“Gift?”

“Sure. The gift of time. In most cases these people become believers in God. I think God is in control. The Bible makes it abundantly clear that God rules over everything, including death and hell.”

Millie tried to make sense of that, tried to allow for a new reality, but her mind simply did not allow it. It was too big a jump.

“Do you want to tell me about your death experience now?” Jack Holden asked.

Millie’s chest tightened. “Am I that transparent?”

“You don’t have to.”

Millie felt that if she did, she would be opening a door she would rather keep closed. But another part of her prodded her on. If she didn’t say something now, she might never have the courage to do it.

“I’m claiming clergy privilege now,” she said.

“I consider all of our conversations privileged,” Holden said.

She knew she could trust him. “I did have a vision,” she said. “It was like a very vivid nightmare. It was not the good kind of vision, but the bad kind.” She described in detail what she had seen.

When she finished, Holden was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I have no reason to doubt that what you experienced was real, and that when you called out to God to help you, it was a real prayer. A prayer that was answered.”

“But people in distress are bound to call on God. It’s a reaction.”

“God does not turn a deaf ear just because it’s a reaction.”

“There is one other thing,” Millie said, looking out into the desert darkness. “This vision, if that’s what it was, happened at exactly the time you and my mother were praying for me. Exactly the same time.”

Jack Holden’s face, even in the darkness, seemed to open up with intense curiosity. “How do you know?”

“The doctor told me the time at which I flatlined. Then Mom told me what time it was when you were praying. Accounting for the time difference, it was on target.”

“Well now.”

The car hummed along in silence for a while. Exactly what she needed then, silence. Millie had unloaded more of her inner life in the last few minutes than she had in the last ten years.

Then Holden said, “For a long time I’ve felt that God is weaving a pattern for something big.”

“What do you mean by weaving?”

“There’s a verse in the Bible,” Holden said. “Romans 8:28. I’ve memorized it in several translations, but my favorite is from a man named J. B. Phillips. His version goes like this: ‘We know that to those who love God, who are called according to his plan, everything that happens fits into a pattern for good.’ I always liked that. God weaving a pattern. We can’t see the final product from here. But God can.”

“All right,” Millie said. “I’ll bite. What’s this pattern?”

“I’ll be blunt here. I think our country has fallen into spiritual darkness over the last fifty years. A large part of that has to do with our courts, I’m sorry to say. Do you want me to continue?”

Bristling, Millie said, “Go ahead.”

“You know, of course, that it was Justice William O. Douglas who wrote, in a 1952 opinion, that we are a religious people whose institutions presuppose a Supreme Being.”

Millie knew that to be true.

“But the courts have systematically removed that central tenet from public life. It is the crux of the Declaration of Independence. This country was founded on the belief that our rights come from the Creator.”

This was a familiar argument, though Millie had not heard it for some time. “What Jefferson meant by that has long been debated.”

“Debated by those who don’t wish to acknowledge its truth,” Holden said. “And when people say, well, it’s just an appeal to reason in deistic terms, that betrays an ignorance of the rest of the document.”

“How so?”

“In the last paragraph, Jefferson says America is appealing its cause to the Supreme Judge of the world. Capital S, capital J. And he asserts in the last line that the country is relying on the protection of Divine Providence. Capital D, capital P. No one then, absolutely no one, could have doubted that this was the God of the Bible. Now fast forward to 1980, and the Court holds that public schools cannot post the Ten Commandments. Does that make sense?”

“The development of Establishment Clause jurisprudence, as you know – ”

“Forget the legal jargon. Does it make sense?”

“With all due respect, First Amendment law is not jargon. And how can you possibly know if God is weaving anything?”

“I can’t know for certain,” Holden said. “But I’m willing to make you bet.”

“Bet?”

“Friendly, of course. Are you game?”

The hum of the car filled the silence between them. Millie said, “What’s the bet?”

“That God is not going to let you off the hook.”

Millie felt a jab to her insides, as if the car had hit a bump. But it hadn’t. “I don’t want to be on anybody’s hook, thank you. Nor do I wish to be a thread in some cosmic pattern. I just want to…”

Silence. What did she want? If nothing else, to get back to work. This desert communion was starting to unnerve her.

Millie jerked to consciousness and for a moment did not know where she was. Or the time.

The phone. It rang again.

Her mother’s house, of course. Her head throbbing, Millie scrambled off the sofa – now she remembered falling asleep there last night – and made it to the kitchen by the fourth ring.

“Justice Hollander?”

“Yes?”

“Hold for the president.”

President?

“Hello, Justice Hollander?” She heard the familiar Bostonian accent of the leader of the free world.

“Yes, sir.”

“John Francis.”

She knew that! “Yes, sir.”

“How you doing out there in the Golden State?”

He couldn’t know the half of it. “Fine.”

“Feeling better, are you?”

“Almost as good as new.”

“Great to hear it.”

She sat down to steady her nerves. She knew what was coming next, and felt oddly ambivalent about it. What a time to feel that way!

“I’m going to send you up as my pick for chief justice,” Francis said. “I don’t think that’s a shock to you.”

It wasn’t, but it felt the same. “I am… honored, Mr. President.”

“Well, you deserve it. You’ve been rock solid on the Court for ten years, and it’s about time we had a woman in charge of things over there. When will you be coming back to Washington?”

“I don’t really know.”

“All right. We’ll do some prep with you for the hearings, but those will just be going through the motions. You’ll have the usual conservative outrage, but we have the majority on the committee and in the Senate. No problemo, as they say down in Mexico.”

Millie closed her eyes. She was talking to the president of the United States. He was telling her she was going to be the chief justice. It was a waking dream.

“You do want the job, don’t you?” Francis added.

God is not going to let you off the hook.

Holden’s words bounced off the walls of her mind. She gritted her teeth against them. “Oh, yes, sir. Of course I do.” That had not changed. This opportunity was the culmination of everything she had worked for. What was changing, though she didn’t yet know how, was her. Surely getting back to Washington, back into the swing of things, would settle her down.

“Excellent,” Francis said. “Everything is falling into place nicely. The most important thing is that we keep our slim majority on the Court.”

“Sir, I – ”

“I know, I know. Ethics and all that. That’s why you’re the right person for the job. Now I have to go do a little soft shoe for the Sultan of Brunei. Nice talking to you, Chief. Congratulations.”