Speaking in Tongues

That’s all right.”
    He unlocked the door again and they stepped into the parking area and walked around into the grounds behind the asylum, past the wild rottweilers in their runs.
    Matthews was thinking back to the times he’d been committed here. He recalled how beautiful these lawns and gardens had been then. Well, why wouldn’t they be? Give five hundred crazy people grounds to tend and, brother, you’ve got a showplace. He’d sat for hours and hours and hours talking to other patients and—in his imagination—to his dead Peter. Sometimes the boy responded, sometimes not.
    The dawn sun was still below the horizon but the sky was bright as they walked side by side through the tall grass and goldenrod and milkweed while dragonflies zipped from their path. Grasshoppers bounced against their legs, leaving dots of brown spit on their clothing. The dogs were in a frenzy behind them, sniffing the ground and bounding at the wire fence of their run, trying to escape and go after the intruder who walked beside their master.
    “Look at this place,” Matthews said conversationally. He waved his arm. “I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the strange things people would say. The delusional ones, the paranoid ones, the depressed ones. The ones who were simply nuts—you know, Collier, the mind isn’t an exact science, whatever the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual says. Some peopleare just plain crazy and that’s all you can ever say about them. But I always listened to them. Why, people give themselves away like free samples at a grocery store. Hand themselves to you on platters. And what do they use? Words. Aren’t words the most astonishing thing?”
    Collier said, “You bet they are.”
    There wasn’t much time, Matthews reflected. He supposed he had an hour or two until the police arrived. At best it would take Megan two hours to get to the nearest phone. Enough time to finish here, bury Peter, and get to Dulles for a flight to Los Angeles. Or maybe he should just drive west. Hide in the hills of West Virginia. He took a deep breath. “Stop here.”
    They were beside a shallow ditch. It would make a fine grave for Collier. And he’d decided that he’d kill the lawyer with a single shot to his head. No pain, no torment. And he wouldn’t let the dogs have the body. Out of respect for a worthy adversary.
    Then the lawyer stunned him by closing his eyes and whispering, “Our Father, who art in heaven . . .” He slowly completed the Lord’s Prayer.
    Matthews laughed then asked, “You believe in God?”
    Collier nodded. “Why does that surprise you?”
    “When I’d see you in court it seemed that only the judge and jury were your gods.”
    “No, no, I believe He exists. That He’s merciful and He’s just.”
    “Just?” Matthews asked skeptically.
    “Well, He’s the reason I don’t send people to death row anymore . . . Do you? Believe in God?”
    “I’m not sure,” Matthews said.
    “You know, I always wanted the chance to prove the existence of God in a debate.”
    “How would you do that?” Matthews asked, truly curious. “Resolved: God exists. Isn’t that how debates start?”
    Collier looked up at the purple sky. “You know Voltaire?”
    “Not really. No.”
    “I’d make his argument. He said there had to be a God because he couldn’t imagine a watch without a watchmaker.”
    Matthews nodded. “Yes, I can see that. That’s good. That’s compelling.”
    “But, of course, then you run into all of the counterarguments. The con side.”
    “Such as?”
    “Incompatible religious sects, interpretations of holy scriptures proven wrong later, no empirical proof of miracles, the Crusades, ethical and secular self-interest, terrorism . . . That’s an uphill battle, all right.”
    “No answer for that?”
    “Oh, sure. I’ve got an answer.”
    Matthews was suddenly fascinated. After Peter’s death he’d prayed every night for six months. He believed that the boy had answered some of those communiqués. It gave him clues, but not proof, that Peter’s soul floated nearby. “What is it, what’s the answer?” he asked hungrily.
    “That a watch,” Collier answered slowly, “no matter how well made, can never comprehend its watchmaker. When we claim to understand God, everything breaks down. If God exists then by definition He’s unknowableand souls—yours, mine, Megan’s, Peter’s—are beyond our understanding. When we create human institutions to