I could. But… they’re the same? As us? How is that possible? I don’t….” He rubs his hands over his face. “I’ve given him antibiotics. There’s no infection. There’s nothing there. Everything is fine.”
“Then why won’t he wake up?” I rub my hand over the stubble on his head, just as he likes. I ignore the tears on my face.
“I don’t know,” Doc Heward says, sounding like he’s losing control. “I don’t know. He should be getting better. His eyes should be open, and he should be talking and… Benji. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. He’s dying, and I don’t know why. This is out of my league.” He gives a bitter laugh. “I don’t know why,” he says again. He takes a step back.
I do. I know why. I know why his eyes aren’t open, why he’s not talking. I know why his wings can’t seem to stay and why his blue lights are getting weaker and weaker. It’s close.
“Leave us,” I say quietly, never taking my eyes from Cal. “Please.”
The doc makes a sound of protest. I shake my head just once, and I hear his footsteps as he walks away slowly.
Pastor Landeros stops his mumbling. He looks at me like he’s just now aware of my presence. “Benji?” he whispers. “When did you….” He glances down at Calliel then back at me. “Do you know what this is?”
“This is my friend,” I tell him.
“It’s a miracle,” he breathes. “I’ve never….”
“Not now, Pastor,” I say, shaking my head. “Not now. I know this is your church. I know this is your home. I know this is an affirmation of your faith. I know this is everything you’ve ever hoped for. Everything you’ve ever dreamed about. But this is my friend. I need you to leave us alone. Please.”
He takes a step toward me and gently touches the top of my head. “It’s more than that,” he says. “It’s so much more than that. It means we are never alone.”
And then he leaves. I wait until I hear the doors of the church shut behind them.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.”
I don’t know what else to say. Actually, I do know what else to say, but I can’t seem to find the power to say it. I can’t seem to form the words to say what I really want, how I really feel. It seems like everything depends on what I’ll say next, that this final test is the most important one.
How do you say what’s in your heart if your heart is something you haven’t known for years? How do you give yourself completely when all you’ve done is bury yourself in grief? How do you come back from the dark when it’s all you can remember?
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice cracking. I hang my head and grip Cal’s hand tightly. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go from here. I thought I was the strong one. I thought I could be brave. I thought I could stand and be true, just like what was asked of me, but I don’t know if I can. I’m scared. I’m scared I won’t be good enough. I’m scared I can’t be courageous enough. I’m scared I can’t do what’s expected of me. I don’t know what’s expected of me. I just know I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to go away. I don’t want you to cross the river, because I’m not done with you yet. I haven’t had enough of you, not even close. I don’t think I ever will, even if we could go on forever. I need you to come back. I need you to come home. I need you.” The sound of my voice dies in the church.
I wait.
Nothing happens. Of course nothing happens.
My anger rises. I drop Cal’s hand. I look up at St. Jude Novena. He is not God, nor did he ever claim to be. But aside from the unconscious angel in front of me, he’s the closest thing I’ve got. “What do you want from me?” I growl up at the stained glass. “What do you expect me to do? Do you want me to fall to my knees and beg you? Well, here I am!” I raise my voice until it’s a shout. “Here I am! Right here! Right here in the middle of your fucking design, your goddamned pattern! I’m begging you. I’m begging you with all