Going Home - J. C. Laird (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📗
- Author: J. C. Laird
Book online «Going Home - J. C. Laird (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📗». Author J. C. Laird
all my friends call me…well…Michael.” He smiled self-consciously.
Several awkward seconds passed as he continued to clean her. “I’m going to die, aren’t I Michael?” she asked.
He tried not to look at the darker crimson of the sodden sweatshirt below her breasts, or the steady weeping of blood from the shaft’s end. "As soon as the emergency crews get here, they’ll cut that bar off at the wall and get you to a hospital where they can remove it.” He looked away. “Listen, I can hear the sirens now; the fire department and ambulances will be here in minutes.” He was avoiding her question. And judging from her expression, she knew it.
“Michael, do you have a cell phone?”
“Sorry, no. I lost it somewhere trying to get up here.”
“Mine’s in my purse; I left it with David…” She looked at Michael hopefully. “I don’t suppose you know a David Ortiz?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“David’s my date. We were in row 14, Section S. I was getting something to eat, but he was still down there when this side of the arena blew up. I hope to God he’s okay...I just wish I could call my parents.” She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back her tears, her lower lip quivering. “I just want to go home.”
Michael sat back down next to her. “Where are you from, Jenny? You have a…ummm…Midwestern accent?”
Now she managed a small grin. “Good guess. I’m from Nebraska—your stereotypical farm girl—born and bred. My parents still live there.”
“How did you end up in New Mexico?”
“My high school friend, Amber, got a scholarship to UNM. I visited the campus with her, loved the place, and decided to enroll.” Her expression dimmed. “Amber doesn’t like basketball; I wish I’d gone to the movies with her today.”
She carefully raised her hand to brush the hair out of her eyes and her sleeve pulled back to reveal a silver bracelet, several charms jingling faintly and glowing in the eerie light.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” he said.
“My parents gave it to me for my tenth birthday. My Dad said it was a special birthday since I was hitting double digits in age.” She held it close for Michael. “See, it’s the Ten Commandments and the Lord’s Prayer, one charm for each.”
She attempted to shift herself closer to Michael, then gasped and squeezed her eyes shut as the fire in her chest blazed white hot. She pressed her face into his shoulder. When she breathed there was a moist rattle from lungs filling with blood. She whispered, “I’m scared, Michael. “Promise me you won’t leave; don’t leave me alone, please…”
“I promise.” He drew an imaginary X on his chest. “Cross my heart. I’m not going anywhere.” He sidled as close as possible, his body pressing against hers. He turned almost completely on his side towards her and slipped his arm around her shoulders, cradling her head gently against his shoulder with his other hand. “Where in Nebraska?”
“Thedford,” she whispered. “Population 242. We had a farm nearby and life was just like in the old movies: chores before school, chores after school, milking cows, feeding the chickens, collecting the eggs, a pet goat, 4-H Club, the Thomas County Fair—that was the highlight of the year. The highlight of our week was going to church on Sunday and getting together with family and friends after. We made the drive into North Platte every month or so to pick up stuff we couldn’t raise on the farm or get in Thedford. Once or twice a year we’d make the trek into Lincoln to check out all the new-fangled things in the big city. You can see why I wanted to leave; there was a whole other world out here.” She paused to catch her breath, something that was becoming more and more difficult to find.
Her head was heavy on his shoulder, her pallor alarming. “Compared with what’s going on in today’s world, that life style doesn’t sound half bad,” he said.
Jenny actually managed a soft, two syllable laugh. Then solemnly, “Coming to Albuquerque is my one claim to fame. I’m only nineteen. I’ve never gone anywhere; never even left Nebraska until I came here. I was going to visit the Grand Canyon next year…maybe the Pacific Ocean…and…and…I’m still a virgin, Michael…”
He could feel her crying silently. He didn’t know what to say.
Her voice was barely audible. “I’m never going to fall in love, never going to make love, never have children or a home, never...” She paused for a few seconds, her breathing thick and labored. “Pretty pathetic, huh? Now…”
Michael interrupted, “What if you could do all those things—and more?”
Jenny tilted her head back with a wide-eyed, questioning look.
“Maybe all the good things that ever were, or are, or ever will be—and good things still to be imagined—will be yours to experience forever,” he said.
Still puzzled but managing a smile, “What are you talking about?”
He gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “Just my definition of Heaven, I guess. The place we came from, the home some will go back to one day...”
Suddenly, Jenny began coughing raggedly, deeply; her head and body jerking forward, moving in agony on the metal spear impaling her. Her coughing turned into a scream; bright red blood spewed from her mouth, spattering down onto her shirt and Michael’s arm as he grabbed her, trying to keep her from moving. He held her in his arms in a vise-like grip until her choking subsided and her head lolled back, her eyes closed, whether dead or unconscious he didn’t know.
He pulled the damp towel from the back of her neck and cleaned the blood from her face. She moaned and her eyelids fluttered open; eyes big as silver dollars focused on him, eyes filled with pain and fear.
He helped move her head back to his shoulder; where she immediately buried her face in his neck. “The movies were right,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m cold…so cold…I can hardly feel my legs or anything….oh, my God…oh, no…oh, no….” She raised her hand feebly to her face, covering, trying to somehow hide from him.
“What is it?” he said.
“I’ve wet myself…oh, my God, I’ve wet myself….”
He could feel her tears on his neck. “Shhhhhh, Jenny, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re going home. Trust me, it’ll be alright, I promise. Heaven is waiting for you, I just know it.” He held her close.
Even with her mouth near his ear, her voice was faint. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters...”
She was reciting the 23rd Psalm. As she whispered the words, her warm breath caressed his skin; her eyelashes made an occasional flicker, tickling his neck, reminding him of that old song “Butterfly Kisses.”
Her words became hesitant and faltering, slowly fading. “…I will…fear no evil…for thou…thou…art with me…”
Her voice finally became inaudible, melding into the vacuum around them. The faint, rhythmic caress of her breaths ceased. The last, delicate touch of a ‘butterfly kiss’ fluttered upon his cheek.
Michael finished the Psalm for Jenny. “...surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life; and you shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
He gently laid her head back against the wall, her sightless eyes staring through him—no longer aware of the world. On his knees he straddled her, took her by the shoulders and pulled her forward, freeing her from the iron shaft that held her prisoner. He laid her on her back and folded her hands on her abdomen. With tears in his eyes he closed hers, brushed the hair from her face and kissed her softly on the forehead. “You’re going home, Jenny.”
The sound of footsteps nearby. It was Gabriel, sandy-haired and boyishly freckled, staring at his kneeling friend. He spoke quietly. “We’re finished here, it’s time to go.” He looked around him. “Maybe the world really is going to Hell, Michael.”
Michael frowned.
Gabriel looked away. “Sorry, it just seems that fewer go home every year. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it anymore.”
Michael looked down at Jenny, then back at his ageless companion and finally smiled. “Gabriel, you know how He is; it would be worth it even if there were only one.”
Several awkward seconds passed as he continued to clean her. “I’m going to die, aren’t I Michael?” she asked.
He tried not to look at the darker crimson of the sodden sweatshirt below her breasts, or the steady weeping of blood from the shaft’s end. "As soon as the emergency crews get here, they’ll cut that bar off at the wall and get you to a hospital where they can remove it.” He looked away. “Listen, I can hear the sirens now; the fire department and ambulances will be here in minutes.” He was avoiding her question. And judging from her expression, she knew it.
“Michael, do you have a cell phone?”
“Sorry, no. I lost it somewhere trying to get up here.”
“Mine’s in my purse; I left it with David…” She looked at Michael hopefully. “I don’t suppose you know a David Ortiz?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“David’s my date. We were in row 14, Section S. I was getting something to eat, but he was still down there when this side of the arena blew up. I hope to God he’s okay...I just wish I could call my parents.” She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back her tears, her lower lip quivering. “I just want to go home.”
Michael sat back down next to her. “Where are you from, Jenny? You have a…ummm…Midwestern accent?”
Now she managed a small grin. “Good guess. I’m from Nebraska—your stereotypical farm girl—born and bred. My parents still live there.”
“How did you end up in New Mexico?”
“My high school friend, Amber, got a scholarship to UNM. I visited the campus with her, loved the place, and decided to enroll.” Her expression dimmed. “Amber doesn’t like basketball; I wish I’d gone to the movies with her today.”
She carefully raised her hand to brush the hair out of her eyes and her sleeve pulled back to reveal a silver bracelet, several charms jingling faintly and glowing in the eerie light.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” he said.
“My parents gave it to me for my tenth birthday. My Dad said it was a special birthday since I was hitting double digits in age.” She held it close for Michael. “See, it’s the Ten Commandments and the Lord’s Prayer, one charm for each.”
She attempted to shift herself closer to Michael, then gasped and squeezed her eyes shut as the fire in her chest blazed white hot. She pressed her face into his shoulder. When she breathed there was a moist rattle from lungs filling with blood. She whispered, “I’m scared, Michael. “Promise me you won’t leave; don’t leave me alone, please…”
“I promise.” He drew an imaginary X on his chest. “Cross my heart. I’m not going anywhere.” He sidled as close as possible, his body pressing against hers. He turned almost completely on his side towards her and slipped his arm around her shoulders, cradling her head gently against his shoulder with his other hand. “Where in Nebraska?”
“Thedford,” she whispered. “Population 242. We had a farm nearby and life was just like in the old movies: chores before school, chores after school, milking cows, feeding the chickens, collecting the eggs, a pet goat, 4-H Club, the Thomas County Fair—that was the highlight of the year. The highlight of our week was going to church on Sunday and getting together with family and friends after. We made the drive into North Platte every month or so to pick up stuff we couldn’t raise on the farm or get in Thedford. Once or twice a year we’d make the trek into Lincoln to check out all the new-fangled things in the big city. You can see why I wanted to leave; there was a whole other world out here.” She paused to catch her breath, something that was becoming more and more difficult to find.
Her head was heavy on his shoulder, her pallor alarming. “Compared with what’s going on in today’s world, that life style doesn’t sound half bad,” he said.
Jenny actually managed a soft, two syllable laugh. Then solemnly, “Coming to Albuquerque is my one claim to fame. I’m only nineteen. I’ve never gone anywhere; never even left Nebraska until I came here. I was going to visit the Grand Canyon next year…maybe the Pacific Ocean…and…and…I’m still a virgin, Michael…”
He could feel her crying silently. He didn’t know what to say.
Her voice was barely audible. “I’m never going to fall in love, never going to make love, never have children or a home, never...” She paused for a few seconds, her breathing thick and labored. “Pretty pathetic, huh? Now…”
Michael interrupted, “What if you could do all those things—and more?”
Jenny tilted her head back with a wide-eyed, questioning look.
“Maybe all the good things that ever were, or are, or ever will be—and good things still to be imagined—will be yours to experience forever,” he said.
Still puzzled but managing a smile, “What are you talking about?”
He gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “Just my definition of Heaven, I guess. The place we came from, the home some will go back to one day...”
Suddenly, Jenny began coughing raggedly, deeply; her head and body jerking forward, moving in agony on the metal spear impaling her. Her coughing turned into a scream; bright red blood spewed from her mouth, spattering down onto her shirt and Michael’s arm as he grabbed her, trying to keep her from moving. He held her in his arms in a vise-like grip until her choking subsided and her head lolled back, her eyes closed, whether dead or unconscious he didn’t know.
He pulled the damp towel from the back of her neck and cleaned the blood from her face. She moaned and her eyelids fluttered open; eyes big as silver dollars focused on him, eyes filled with pain and fear.
He helped move her head back to his shoulder; where she immediately buried her face in his neck. “The movies were right,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m cold…so cold…I can hardly feel my legs or anything….oh, my God…oh, no…oh, no….” She raised her hand feebly to her face, covering, trying to somehow hide from him.
“What is it?” he said.
“I’ve wet myself…oh, my God, I’ve wet myself….”
He could feel her tears on his neck. “Shhhhhh, Jenny, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re going home. Trust me, it’ll be alright, I promise. Heaven is waiting for you, I just know it.” He held her close.
Even with her mouth near his ear, her voice was faint. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters...”
She was reciting the 23rd Psalm. As she whispered the words, her warm breath caressed his skin; her eyelashes made an occasional flicker, tickling his neck, reminding him of that old song “Butterfly Kisses.”
Her words became hesitant and faltering, slowly fading. “…I will…fear no evil…for thou…thou…art with me…”
Her voice finally became inaudible, melding into the vacuum around them. The faint, rhythmic caress of her breaths ceased. The last, delicate touch of a ‘butterfly kiss’ fluttered upon his cheek.
Michael finished the Psalm for Jenny. “...surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life; and you shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
He gently laid her head back against the wall, her sightless eyes staring through him—no longer aware of the world. On his knees he straddled her, took her by the shoulders and pulled her forward, freeing her from the iron shaft that held her prisoner. He laid her on her back and folded her hands on her abdomen. With tears in his eyes he closed hers, brushed the hair from her face and kissed her softly on the forehead. “You’re going home, Jenny.”
The sound of footsteps nearby. It was Gabriel, sandy-haired and boyishly freckled, staring at his kneeling friend. He spoke quietly. “We’re finished here, it’s time to go.” He looked around him. “Maybe the world really is going to Hell, Michael.”
Michael frowned.
Gabriel looked away. “Sorry, it just seems that fewer go home every year. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it anymore.”
Michael looked down at Jenny, then back at his ageless companion and finally smiled. “Gabriel, you know how He is; it would be worth it even if there were only one.”
###
Imprint
Text: John C. Laird
Images: John C. Laird/Alexandra Laird
Editing: Alexandra Laird
Publication Date: 02-05-2012
All Rights Reserved
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