Suffer the Children (22 page)

“Who cares?” she said. “Go get them. And after that, get ready to stay up as late as you want.”

Nate howled in triumph. He’d won the lottery and didn’t even know he had a ticket. The kids fled the table, pounded into the living room, and tore into the Christmas gifts like animals. Joan chased after them, urging them on. Doug took a final mouthful of pot roast and hurried to catch up.

Megan opened each gift, held it up for all to see, and moved on to the next. She lay on the floor to play with her favorite, a Barbie laptop that taught her words and numbers. Joan settled into the La-Z-Boy and watched her play.

Nate crowed as he unwrapped LEGOs, a Nerf pistol, and a few Hot Wheels cars. Joan had wanted to get him an anatomy model of the
human head to encourage any interest he still had in being a doctor one day but couldn’t find one. Instead, she’d gotten him a Snap Circuits electronics kit and some books as an education gift.

Then he opened the box containing the ultimate prize—a remote-controlled helicopter. Joan did the Christmas shopping, but Doug had picked that one out special for Nate. He grinned as the boy opened it.

“Wow, this is amazing!” Nate cried.

“It’s ready to fly,” Doug said. “No assembly required. It’s got a gyroscope to keep it steady in the air. With the control, you can make it go up, down, left, right, forward, and back. What do you think?”

Nate held it up and turned the blades. “
Wow.
It’s an army helicopter.”

“Marines, son. It’s a SuperCobra attack helicopter.”

“
Wow.
Does it shoot anything?”

“No, it just flies.”

“That’s okay. Can we fly it now, Dad?”

“Not when it’s dark out. It’s too big to fly in here; we have to take it outside. We’ll do it tomorrow if the weather’s okay.”

“Promise?”

“You bet, sport.”

Nate stood and held up the helicopter. “I’ll bet it can go really high and fast too. This is the best Christmas ever!”

Doug and Joan exchanged a smile.

“Oh man, I wish—”

He dropped the helicopter to the floor.

Joan screamed. She leaped out of her chair while Doug froze in horror.

The word
wish
whistled out of the boy’s lungs as they deflated.

Megan lay among the wreckage of boxes and wrapping paper. The Barbie laptop invited her to play another game. Her eyes were blank.

When Nate crumpled into Joan’s arms, Doug knew his son was dead again.

2 days after Resurrection

David awoke to winter sunlight streaming through the window. Nadine was already up, her pillow cool to the touch. He rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. The memory of the night before brought a smile to his face.

Dust glittered in the sunbeams. David waved his hand and watched it swirl.
This is all we are
.
And yet we are so much more than this
.

He plodded into the bathroom and found what he saw in the mirror lacking.
I’m too young to be this out of shape. Time to lay off the potato chips and dust off those dumbbells in the basement.
Last night had given him a reason to care again.

David grinned as he brushed his teeth. And what a night it had been.

Last night, he’d arrived home breathless with the news about Shannon and her baby. Nadine shared her own news; not just Shannon’s son, but other children were returning to life. She’d seen it herself. She suspected it was happening everywhere.

Nadine looked radiant. Gone was the weariness and grief of the past year. She looked like the girl he’d married. Like a mother again.

“What was the catalyst?” he asked her. “You said you thought you knew. Were you right?”

Nadine smiled. “It turns out it was love after all.”

“Love?”

“Our longing brought them back. Love brought them back to life.”

Nadine was an expert in that kind of longing.

“Our collective will?” he said, struggling to understand.

“Sometimes when you really want something you have to give everything. A sacrifice.”

She took his hand and led him upstairs. Into their cool, dark bedroom.

They undressed each other quickly, but with gentleness, respecting the act’s importance. They hadn’t made love in a year. David’s entire body tingled. His stomach flipped as his skin brushed against hers. He was nervous. Nervous and more excited than he’d ever been.

They lay on the bed together, kissing and touching. The room filled with the smell of her sex. It struck him they had no protection, and he pulled away.

“Are you sure?” he said.

She put her finger to his lips while her other hand guided him in.

He came quickly, he remembered, but they made love again soon after, taking their time, and again after that. They hadn’t enjoyed sex like that in years.

It was a night for starting over.

Something magical had happened to save the children, and some of it had rubbed off on his life. They would put everything behind them and start again. Put the accident in the past once and for all. Let Paul rest. Rebuild the practice, have another child.

It was like waking up from a long, long dream. Life was too precious to waste being miserable. He’d lost a year of his life not wanting to be alive. That would end now. Everything was so clear right now, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

The phone rang in the kitchen. David heard Nadine answer it. She spoke fast and quiet. By the time he’d gotten dressed, she’d hung up.

He found her sitting on the couch in the living room, wrapped in
his flannel bathrobe. She stared at the television. His stomach fluttered at the sight of her. A full mug of coffee rested untouched on the table next to her.

She shook her head and muttered.

“What’s happening?” he said.

She didn’t turn around. “The children.”

David sat on the couch next to her. A pale woman was being interviewed while a child played in the background.

“He just got up and asked if he could go outside.”

“What did you do?”
asked the reporter.

“I cried. I hugged him. I thanked Jesus for giving him back.”

David noticed the woman’s arm had a bulky bandage taped over the wrist. It had a big red spot where blood had soaked through.

That woman dodged a bullet. Must have been in the middle of killing herself in grief when her son returned to life.

He gazed in awe at the small child playing and thought:
This is one of those moments that changes everything. Nothing will ever be the same. Many years from now, on our deathbeds, we’ll remember this as if it happened yesterday.

He turned to look at Nadine, who stared rapt at the TV. They’d been husband and wife for a long time, but he loved her more now than when they’d gotten married. He still found her so beautiful it made his heart ache.

They’d met in college, two premed students commiserating over their mutual hatred of organic chemistry class. They married soon after graduation. Nadine was brilliant, passionate, determined. She would have made a great doctor. Instead, she became a nurse and worked hard at a hospital to put him through medical school. When it was her turn, she decided to have Paul. Then the accident took their son from them. Took everything from her. Changed her from a woman who loved life to one intimate with death.

David’s mind had little patience for willing suspension of disbelief. He didn’t watch TV or read fiction. If it wasn’t real, he had little interest in it. Nadine had encouraged a romantic side of him he’d never
known existed. Not romantic as in roses and candlelight, but as in loving something bigger than himself.

When Paul died, that part of him went too.

Last night, it had come back. All of it.

David watched the TV.

“
How do you feel now?
” the reporter asked.

“I’m so grateful. It’s a miracle.”

“And do you have any big plans for the day?”

“First, we’re going to build a snowman in the backyard.”

“And after?”

The woman smiled. “
Anything he wants.
”

David couldn’t help but smile too. “It really is a miracle.”

He closed his eyes and imagined Nadine sitting right where she was now, her face shining over a baby feeding from her breast. Two small children sat on the floor playing together in the light of the fireplace. His awakened faith was making him think any happiness was possible. It was making him dream. David didn’t care about an afterlife. It was too abstract and impossible to know or understand. But life had limitless potential to be good or bad. He wanted all of the good it had to offer. He once again found himself bargaining with a God whose existence he doubted.

Give me this
, he prayed.

“It’s a lie,” Nadine murmured.

David looked at her. “Sorry?”

“It’s a lie, David. A show. It’s not real.”

The phone rang.

“I don’t understand.”

Nadine turned back to the television while the phone continued its grating ring. “You answer it this time. I can’t hear it again.”

“That’s one of the children right there on TV. He’s alive. You were right.”

Nadine didn’t answer. The phone continued ringing. He finally picked it up. “Hello, this is David Harris.”

“This is Doug Cooper,” a voice growled.

“Yes, Mr. Cooper.” He searched his memory. The Cooper children
used to be patients before the accident. “Are you calling about Nate and Megan?”

“They’re dead again!”

David’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t imagine the pain of having your children come back, only to die in a freak accident. Whatever had happened had created a reprieve from this death, but not mortality itself. For one of the children to die now was like surviving a fall from the world’s tallest building, only to choke on a peanut afterward.

“My God—I’m sorry for your loss. What happened?”

“Your medicine didn’t work for shit, that’s what happened!”

“What medicine?”

“Are you screwing with me now, after all this?”

“I’m not doing anything, Mr. Cooper.”

“You do not want to mess with me, doc.”

“Tell me what medicine you’re talking about, or I’m hanging up right now.”

“The medicine from the CDC. The
medicine
. The
vaccine
.”

“There is no treatment from the CDC. I would have heard about it.”

The man wasn’t listening. David heard the sound of a brief struggle, followed by a woman’s breathless voice.

“Dr. Harris? This is Joan Cooper. Sorry to bother you at home. Can I please speak to Nadine? Is she there?”

“Of course.” He turned. Nadine was still facing the television but not watching it. Her eyes were vacant, as if looking inward. “It’s for you.”

She nodded and took the phone from him.

“Hello, Mrs. Cooper, this is Nadine Harris. Tell me what’s happening.” She listened. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s not just you, I’m afraid. What we did doesn’t seem to be holding.” She winced. “All right, I’ll come. I’ll come right now.”

Nadine hung up and said, “I have to go.”

“What’s going on?”

“The children are falling asleep again. I have to see if I can fix it.”

David touched the edge of the kitchen counter and leaned on it for support. Nadine disappeared down the hall and into their bedroom.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he called, but she didn’t answer.

The phone rang again.

“Should I answer it?”

She didn’t respond. He picked up the phone. He wanted to hurl it against the wall.

“
Yes
,” he said tersely.

“David?”

“Ben, is that you?”

“Thank God I reached you. The police just released me. I need to talk to you. Can you come over? To my house?”

The man sounded terrible, wheezy and weak. It was like getting a call from his ghost.

Nadine hurried out of the bedroom, dressed and ready to leave the house to work.

“I suppose I can,” David murmured.

“Please come as soon as you can,” Ben said. “It’s vitally important.”

David watched Nadine put on her coat. “I could do that.”

“And, David—David, are you there?”

Nadine glanced at him, her eyes dark and sad, and closed the door. Whatever questions David had, they would have to wait.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I want you to bring your gun.”

2 days after Resurrection

About two hours. That’s how much time Ramona had been given with Josh after watching a pint of her blood disappear down his throat.

They’d watched
Little Bear
and
Caillou
. They played. His appetite
was amazing; he ate two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on gluten-free bread and a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. He asked for construction paper and pencils, and when Ramona suggested they do something else together instead, he threw a tantrum.

She hadn’t minded. Josh had come back, but he was no angel—he was a four-year-old boy who sometimes pounded the floor when he didn’t get his way. It was oddly reassuring because it was authentic. If he were just nice, it would have felt fake somehow. Like a trick.

In the end, they’d compromised. They would draw together. Josh drew a picture filled with giant eyes that had swirls instead of irises. It was even more disturbing than the monsters he’d drawn at Joan’s. She asked him if that’s what he saw while he was asleep these past few days, but he pretended not to hear. When she asked again, he shrugged. He sniffed at the air. His eyes clenched. Then the pencil skidded across the page, and his forehead thudded against the desktop.

No matter how much Ramona begged, Josh wouldn’t wake up.