Rob stood by the cross at the spot where the grizzly killed his dad. “Please forgive for what I have to do, Dad,” he moaned. “God only knows how much I’m suffering. I just can’t stand this horrible pain anymore. I’ve got to end it all.”
The 44 Colt felt cold and awkward in his hand. The gun barrel glistened from the drizzle. It took every ounce of strength he had to place the end of the barrel against his chest. With his eyes firmly closed, he cocked the 44 with his thumb and tried to squeeze the trigger. His forefinger froze, refusing to pull the trigger.
“Damn it anyway! Why won’t my finger pull the trigger?” Rob cried out.
Rob made several more attempts, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get his finger to squeeze the trigger. He quickly changed hands, but his left forefinger would not squeeze the trigger either.
In disgust, Rob aimed the 44 at the base of the cross and pulled the trigger. The gun fired, blowing a hole in the base of the cross.
He stood there in mental anguish. “God Almighty,” he called out, “what a loser you are. You screw up anything you try.”
And then it happened. Just as he put the barrel of the gun against his chest for another try, a vision briefly flashed before his eyes. He saw Ada, his old girlfriend, on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. He heard her pleading, “Oh dear God, don’t let Rob kill himself!”
Will Rob end his life or will Ada’s prayers be answered?