Children of the Knight - Michael J. Bowler (best books to read non fiction .txt) 📗

The storm drain system had an entrance not far from the hospital, and the encroaching twilight helped conceal the rather odd-looking group as they ascended endless flights of steps and passed through thick glass doors into the massive, towering facility.

Arthur had brought no metal, having been told by Lance about the metal detectors and armed cops who patrolled the hospital like it was a prison. But he did wear his standard red cloak over a white tunic and leather pants, with knee-high leather boots, and struck an unusual figure cutting across the lobby to the checkpoint.

The entire group looked out of place with all the boys dressed in similar fashion. Long-sleeved baggy tunics and drawstring leather pants with accompanying leather boots were definitely not the fashion in this part of town. Every set of eyes followed the group as it approached the uniformed guard standing beside a large, walk-through metal detector.

The guard, who was shaped somewhat like a pigeon with a potbelly and skinny neck, eyed the group suspiciously. “What’s with the getups?” he asked, his voice rather high and reedy.

Lance, who’d already thought ahead, replied with, “We was at a costume party, man, when we heard his lil’ sister been shot.”

He indicated Jaime, the only one dressed in regular clothes. The guard shifted his gaze from Lance to Jaime and then gave the tall bearded man with the cloak the once-over. “And who’re you supposed to be, Thor?”

Arthur tilted his head in confusion.

Lance said, “Yeah, he’s Thor. Can we go faster here, please? His sister’s serious.”

The guard eyed him, and then waved them through. Checking in at the information booth, they were given name and destination badges by an overweight woman with a beehive-like hairdo.

Another armed guard stood beside the elevators and pushed the button for the intensive care floor, eyeing the group with raised eyebrows. As the elevator took forever to arrive, Lance felt the need to say, “We were at a party.” The guard nodded silently and ushered them into the elevator.

Intensive Care buzzed with activity. The first nurse they spotted easily directed them to the only gunshot wound on the floor. She handed them masks, which Arthur gazed at quizzically until Lance showed him how to put it on over his mouth.

“So we don’t spread germs,” he explained, and Arthur nodded.

The nurse shook her head and glowered until all the boys had donned their masks. Only then did she allow them to proceed. Arthur, Esteban, Jaime, Darnell, Lance, Mark, and Jack strode down the hall in the indicated direction, ignoring the odd stares from other nurses and orderlies. When they reached his sister’s door, Jaime shoved it open quickly, and they all followed him into a small, drab, and very cold room.

Within the room was a bed with an oxygen tent covering it. Beeping and clicking machines that monitored vital functions, as well as IV and plasma drips, surrounded the bed. Beneath the clear, plastic tent Lance saw saw a small, pale face and his heart lurched with pain.

Jaime looked through the tent, his fists clenched. An older lady and Jaime’s girl, Sonia, wearing similar masks, sat huddled by Anna’s bedside, watching her shallow breathing and comforting one another. The lady had been crying, her eyes puffy and red, and Sonia’s looked the same. Jaime stepped around the bed and engulfed Sonia in a tight hug.

“Where’d you go?” she whispered.

Jaime ignored her, pulled himself away, and knelt down before the lady. “Mama?”

Through her tears, the mother gazed despairingly at the son. “Why, why this have to happen? I tell you not to hang wit’ these boys, mijo, I tell you to get out of the gang, but no, you can’t! An’ now my baby gonna die.”

Jaime tried to hug her, but she rebuffed him, and he stood. “Mama, dis man––” He pointed at Arthur, who gazed down at the dying child. “He be King Arthur, an’ he says he can help.”

Arthur stepped around the bed and took the woman’s hands in his.

“You can’t help, sir,” the distraught woman mumbled through her tears, “’less you can do miracles.”

Despite the mask covering his mouth, Arthur’s eyes smiled at her, that warm and inviting look that always put Lance at ease. “Perhaps, señora, I can.” He turned to Jaime. “Please take thy mother outside, and the others as well. Lance only must remain.”

The woman looked in confusion from Arthur to Jaime, but willingly allowed her son to guide her gently from the room, followed by Sonia. Esteban eyed Arthur curiously, and then led Darnell from the room.

“Sure you don’t need me to stay, Arthur?” Mark asked hopefully.

“Not now, Mark, perhaps later ye may also be of help.”

Mark let Jack lead him from the room.

Lance watched Arthur expectantly, surprised when the man dropped to his knees beside the bed. There was no noise except the beeping and clicking of the machines, and voices wafting in from the hallway.

“Come, Lance, pray with me.”

Lance had never been much for praying, mainly ’cause things he always prayed for when he was little never came true. Until Arthur entered his life, anyway. But he did as instructed. He knelt beside the king and clasped his hands together, emulating this man for whom he’d do anything.

Arthur lowered his head to his clasped hands. “Dear God, long ago I bore witness to a miracle, performed through my dear friend Lancelot.”

Lance glanced up at that name. It was the second time he’d heard it, but Arthur had still told him about this man. He lowered his head once more.

“I now ask, not for mine own glory, but for the children whom I seek to lead, that thou send forth thy healing powers to restore this innocent child to full health. These knights of mine must make a tremendous leap of faith, dear Lord, and this night may prove the success or failure of my mission. If thou doth see fit to grant the prayer of this, thy most humble servant, I shall not ask another miracle of thee.”

He fell silent, reaching beneath the tent to take the girl’s hand in both of his. Lance watched, but nothing happened. He didn’t know what he’d expected to occur, but watching Arthur clasping the girl’s hand, head bowed in supplication before God, Lance did pray. For real. He prayed with all his might that this girl would live.

Out in the corridor, it seemed like hours had passed since Arthur asked them to leave the room. Jaime’s mother stared into nothingness, while Jaime paced back and forth in front of Sonia, who sat in a chair watching him.

“This is all my fault,” he kept mumbling over and over again as he paced. Sonia had tried to comfort him, but he wanted none of it. He felt too guilty. Esteban and Darnell leaned against the wall by the door, watching Jaime pace and eyeing each other uncertainly. Mark and Jack sat together, Mark with his head on Jack’s shoulder, Jack’s solid arm encircling Mark’s waist.

Fiddling absently with his cornrows, Darnell elbowed Esteban and indicated the pair with a smirk. Esteban glanced at the two gay boys and shrugged. Slipping the mask back over his mouth, he impulsively re-entered the room.

Lance and Arthur still knelt where they had started, Arthur’s head bent in prayer over the girl. Lance’s legs had begun to cramp, but he dared not rise. He looked up when Esteban entered.

The bigger boy stepped forward into the room and whispered, “What’s he doing?”

“Praying,” Lance whispered back.

Esteban glanced sharply at Arthur but said nothing.

After a while, Jaime stopped pacing when he noticed that Esteban was gone. He raised his eyebrows at Darnell, who sat by himself, and the black boy nodded his head in the direction of the room. Jaime stepped to the door, replaced his mask, and entered cautiously.

He sucked in a surprised breath at the sight of Arthur, still bent in prayer, with Lance and Esteban kneeling on either side of him, also praying. Jaime paused, realizing he hadn’t prayed since he was a small boy, then shut the door and joined them.

As morning broke into a hazy sunrise, the intensive care floor had settled into an almost calm environment. The corridor was mostly empty, except for Jaime’s mother and Sonia, who had fallen asleep against each other. Suddenly, mom snapped her eyes open, looking around in fear, realizing she had slept through the night. She shook Sonia quickly awake, threw off the blanket someone had draped over her, and dashed into her daughter’s room, with Sonia, wiping sleep from her eyes, close on her heels.

As Jaime’s mom entered with Sonia, Lance glanced up and saw her gasp, hand at her mouth in surprise. All the boys were now kneeling around the bed, heads bent, hands clasped together in a prayer chain, with Lance and Esteban holding Arthur’s arms at the elbows.

As the two women stared in disbelief, the girl stirred beneath the oxygen tent, a tiny, barely audible moan escaping her lips. Arthur lifted his head, as did Lance and the others. Their eyes flicked from each other to Arthur and then locked onto the pale figure beneath the tent.

Arthur stood and gazed with true compassion at the small, brown face behind the sheet of plastic, lowering his mask to reveal his entire appearance. He offered the girl that charming smile Lance loved.

The girl’s light brown eyes fluttered fully open, her gaze danced around the room, at the tent above her and the machines around her, and then focused on Arthur. Her face looked pale and bloodless, but her eyes shone brightly with life and love. She smiled.

“Gracias,” she whispered, and Arthur nodded. Then she shifted her gaze toward her mother, who stood to one side, hand still to her mouth in shock.

Arthur glanced up toward heaven. “Gracias, Señor,” he whispered tiredly, his boys staring at him in silent bewilderment.

Jaime’s mom bolted for the bed, and the boys stood to let her through. Throwing back the plastic tent, she reached in and gently touched her daughter’s face, stroked it in joyous disbelief, her eyes filling with tears.

The girl smiled. “I’m okay, Mama, don’t cry. I feel much better.” Her voice sounded small and raspy, but strong and assured.

Mom drew her hand back and turned to Arthur. She threw herself around him in a tight hug of joy and gratitude. Sonia grabbed Jaime’s hand and squeezed, while Esteban and Darnell high-fived each other.

Had they just witnessed a miracle, Lance wondered? He had a feeling all the others wondered the same thing.

Arthur held Jaime’s mother tight in his arms a moment, accepting her silent, tearful thanks, but his questioning eyes drifted to Esteban and locked on those of the boy.

Esteban looked tired, and confused. He gazed long and hard at Arthur, then sighed. “Okay, Arthur, no payback. For now.”

Arthur grinned with relief and released Jaime’s mom. He motioned to the other boys to leave the family alone, and a tired, confused group of youngsters left the room and the hospital, not fully comprehending what they had done but knowing it had been something important. And that was enough.