Suffer the Children (27 page)

“Why do you want to draw Heaven, Josh?”

He shrugged. He couldn’t put it into words. He just did.

“Maybe we could draw something nice instead,” she told him. “Together.”

Maybe
meant
for sure
, he knew. Nothing was what it was supposed to be anymore. Mommy never smiled with her eyes. She said everything
was fine, but he knew it wasn’t. She said everything was going to be okay, but he’d heard her crying in the bathroom.

“Mommy, can I go to Joanie’s today?”

Mommy’s sigh made him cringe. “Why do you want to go to Joanie’s?”

“I want to play with my friends.”

The doorbell rang. Mommy’s arms tightened. He gasped.

“I’ll be right back, little man.”

She went to the door and opened it. Slowly, with effort; she walked like Grammy now. Ross walked in and kissed her on the cheek.

Then he noticed Josh. “Hey, look who’s up and at ’em.”

Josh smiled back. He liked Mommy’s new boyfriend. Ross never confused him or made him feel worried by saying one thing while meaning something else. He talked to Josh like he was a grown-up. He didn’t look sick, and he was always calm. Mommy was different around him as well. Like she wasn’t fighting the world.

“I was just asking Josh what he wanted to do today,” said Mommy.

“And what did he say?” Ross asked.

“He wants to go to Joan Cooper’s house. He wants to see his friends.”

“Hey, that actually sounds like a great idea.”

Mommy crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”

“He’s a boy. Boys want to be with their friends.”

“How do you know what children want?”

He smiled. “I was a boy myself at one time, you know.”

“Well, I want to be with my son.”

“Of course you do. I get that. But what about what he wants?”

Mommy glared at him. He raised his hands. “Hey, do what you want. It’s none of my business.”

“It could be.” She waited, but Ross said nothing. “Okay, fine. I’ll call Joan.”

Josh’s heart leaped with hope. He hid behind the corner and listened to Mommy make the arrangements over the phone. Everything looked like it was going his way.
Awesome.
He ran to put on his coat and boots.

Mommy found him grinning ear to ear at the front door.

During the drive, Josh fidgeted in his car seat. He couldn’t wait to see Nate and Megan and Dillon and Danielle and Joanie again. They liked to play indoor games with him. And Joanie would let him watch TV and draw a picture of Heaven.

“She wanted a pint,” Mommy complained to Ross, who was driving. It was snowing outside the car. The windshield wipers ground back and forth.

“I can’t believe she expected to get paid.”

“She said if she was going to wake her kids up, it was going to be for them to be together as a family, not play with someone else’s kids in their house.”

Ross shook his head. “I’m with you on this. She should have just said yes or no.”

“I don’t have a lot left. I’m asking everyone who gave the first time for a second pint. Even half a pint. Only a few said they’d do it. I put an ad on Craigslist.”

“They actually run ads from parents offering money for, uh, medicine?”

“The going term on the e-commerce sites is ‘baby formula.’ ”

“I see. Any takers?”

“One so far. The prices are going through the roof.”

“I have some money if you need help.”

“I don’t want your money, Ross.”

He said nothing.

“I talked her down to half a pint,” she added. “She’s going to wake up Megan.”

“Good.”

“Can’t you go any faster? Every second counts.”

Blah, blah, blah. It was boring grown-up talk, and Josh tuned them out. He pictured what he would do when he saw Joanie.
Hey, look who’s up and at ’em
, he’d say, and saunter past to the living room. Just like that. That’d be so cool. He pictured it again and again. Tickled himself with the thrill.

Ross parked the car. Mommy got out and unbuckled his car seat.

“Look who’s up,” he mumbled with a vacant grin.

“Thirty minutes, Josh. That’s when we’ll come get you. No crying at the end, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Mommy loves you, Josh. Mommy loves you with her whole heart.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

She set him down on the snowy road. “Hold my hand.”

“Have fun, Josh,” Ross said from the front seat.

“I will! Bye!”

Joanie opened the door as they approached the house. Josh broke into a run. Joanie crouched and extended her arms just in time for Josh to slam into her for a hug.

“Hey, look at you,” he said. “You’re up!”

His face turned scarlet.

“Great to see you, Josh!” said Joanie.

Mommy handed her a jar of Welch’s grape jelly. “Here’s your medicine.”

“Thank you, Ramona. I’m glad you understand. Things are tight here.”

“How close are you to the end?”

Joanie winced. “Close.”

“What then?”

“I don’t know.”

They stared at each other. Josh fidgeted.

“Then we do whatever it takes,” Mommy said in a quiet voice.

Joanie nodded. “Come on in, Josh. I’ve got to get this into the fridge. Megan’s already up and waiting for you.”

He shucked his coat and hat, kicked his boots against the wall, and ran into the living room. Megan lay on the floor playing with a little pink laptop near the Christmas tree, which he remembered from the last time he was here. The room was messy and smelled funny, but he didn’t care. It still felt like his second home.

“Look who’s up and at ’em!” he cried.

She sat up. “Josh!”

“Where’s Nate and Dillon and Danielle?”

“I don’t know. Sleeping, I guess.”

Joanie entered the room. She walked like Mommy, like just walking was a lot of work.

“What do you guys want to do?”

“I want to play with my laptop,” said Megan.

“Meggie, Josh is here to play with you. You should do something together.”

“That’s okay,” said Josh. “Can I please draw?”

“Of course. And thank you for saying please.”

Megan jumped to her feet. “Can we
please
have a snack too,
please
?”

“Wow, what good manners. Josh, you’re a good influence. All right, come to the kitchen table, and I’ll feed you rascals.”

Megan cackled at being called a rascal. “Can I bring my Barbie laptop?”

“Sure.”

Josh and Megan walked into the kitchen smiling and holding hands. He felt happy and loved. He sat in one of the chairs.

Megan’s laptop said in a computer voice: “
Let’s play a game.
”

“Okay,” she said, and giggled.

Josh laughed along and started drawing with his pencil. Usually, he drew with slashes and large strokes, but he took his time to produce as fine a level of detail as he could manage. He wanted Heaven to be perfect. Just the way he saw it.

Joanie put a plate of Ritz crackers and two small plastic cups filled with juice in front of them. The kids crammed the food into their mouths.

Josh was hungry all the time. He wanted to eat everything. He wanted to eat paper. He wanted to eat Megan.

“What are you drawing?” Joanie asked him, breaking the thought.

Josh shrugged. He felt jittery. If he told her, he might get into trouble.

She gave his work a quick inspection. “It’s interesting.”

Just like a grown-up, saying one thing and meaning another.

“Rascals,” Megan said, and laughed.

Josh reached for his glass of juice and knocked it over.

“Damn it!” Joanie snarled.

He whimpered while Megan looked on with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry I yelled, Josh,” Joanie said as she hurried to the sink for a towel. She dropped it onto the table and wiped up the spill. “It’s not your fault. Kids spill things. It happens. Joanie is just really, really tired.”

He nodded, afraid to call any more attention to himself.

“It’s just that juice is really hard to get right now,” she muttered. “If you can find it at the store, it’s very expensive. Like everything else.”

Josh nodded again but otherwise remained frozen. He was convinced all grown-ups were monsters.
They always had been
. They’d hidden it, but the world had changed; now they were showing their true selves.

He stared at her exposed neck while she wiped and studied the path of a vein. He wanted to kiss it.

Joanie threw the towel into the sink and knelt next to him. “Are you okay?”

Megan chimed in: “Are you okay, Josh?”

He nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Joanie stood with a grunt, cupped his face, and kissed his forehead. “You’re a good boy. You’re always welcome in our home.”

“You can come over anytime,” Megan said. “Right, Mommy?”

“That’s right, sweetie.”

Josh knew he was running out of time. He wanted to finish his drawing before he had to go home. He closed his eyes and saw Heaven.

The pencil moved across the page, expanding a black lightning bolt. A crack in the world.

“Your mom’s here, Josh.”

He looked up in wonder. He’d been so absorbed he hadn’t heard the knock.

Mommy entered the kitchen with Ross. “Time to go, little man.”

“Did you have fun?” Ross asked him.

Josh smiled and nodded. He’d had a lot of fun.

He wanted to cry because he was leaving but held it back. He remembered he’d promised Mommy he wouldn’t cry at the end. Mommy expected it, and he wanted to be good.

Mommy said, “What did you draw?”

He said nothing.

“Josh?”

He shrugged, his expression neutral.

Mommy studied the drawing.

It was an intricate pattern of light and shadow. Hundreds of tiny dots dimpled the white page. A black lightning bolt crackled down the middle. And over the top of everything, a light, gentle swirl pulled you in.

“The detail is amazing,” Joanie said. She was seeing the finished drawing for the first time. “Very abstract. Boys his age typically don’t have that good small-muscle control.”

“He’s a regular Gustave Doré,” said Ross.

“Is that Heaven?” Mommy asked Josh.

He nodded.

The grown-ups gathered around for a closer look. Josh’s fears slipped away. They weren’t mad. They were fascinated. They
liked
it. It was the kind of drawing Mommy put on the refrigerator door with magnets. The best of the best. Megan leaned, frowning, across the table, trying to figure out what made it good to grown-up eyes.

“Is that what you see when you go to sleep?” asked Ross.

Josh nodded. “See, Mommy? It’s not so bad. Heaven’s not bad.”

Mommy walked away, but he could hear her crying. Josh’s joy deflated. He’d made her upset, and he hadn’t wanted to do that. He’d wanted the drawing to make her feel good.

His gut had told him not to do it. He should have listened.

Joan stared at the drawing. “Is God there?” Joanie whispered. “Did you see Him?”

Josh shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

They went to Ross’s car. Mommy rode in the back with him all the way home. She held him close and kissed his head. By the time they got home, he felt warm and safe again in her arms.

They parked in the driveway. Josh wanted to be carried in. Mommy said she wasn’t strong enough, so Ross did it.

“Say good night to Ross, Josh,” Mommy said.

“Good night.” Josh pecked him on the cheek.

Ross smiled. “Good night, Josh. Sweet dreams.”

Mommy took him upstairs to his bedroom.

“Look, my LEGO fort came apart!” he cried. “I need to fix it!”

“No stalling, Josh. We only have about ten minutes. If you want me to read you a story, you have to get into bed. We’ll skip the teeth brushing this time.”

“Okay,” he grumbled. It wasn’t fair. The sun was still shining. He didn’t feel sleepy at all.

He wanted to eat his LEGO fort.

Mommy took out a new pair of pajamas, but he wanted to wear one of his old one-piece sleepers, the brown one with monkeys on it. It barely fit him. He got into bed and snuggled with Graham the Bear.

“Do you want
Curious George
?”

“No, please. I want
Walter the Farting Dog
.”

Mommy pulled it from the little bookshelf next to his bed and cracked it open. Walter’s farting had gotten him into trouble again. Usually, the Walter stories made him giggle, but he didn’t feel like laughing. He felt thoughtful.

“Mommy? Does Megan have the same condition as me?”

“Yes. She does. All the children have it.”

“All of them go to sleep?”

“That’s right.”

He nodded. He liked that everybody was sick just like him.

“And that’s why you gave Joanie the medicine. It wasn’t really jelly in that jar.”

“That’s right again.”

Josh smiled again. “You’re a good mommy. Sharing is good.”

Mommy swallowed hard. “Thank you, Josh. I love you.”

He snuggled against her. “I love you too, Mommy.”

She read him the story, and just before the end, he saw the swirl.

I’m going down the drain again.

“Oh my God,” Mommy said.

Josh fought against it, trying to focus. He saw his mother staring at the ceiling over his bed. He felt disembodied, as if he were floating.

“Your drawing,” she said.

He followed her gaze to the white, dimpled ceiling with its small crack.

See, Mommy? It’s not so bad.

His life drained away into the swirl. He followed the light.

“Heaven,” he whispered.

28 days after Resurrection

She loved hearts. Even more than rainbows. Hearts meant love. Daddy once told her every heart was a kiss. She even used to dream about them, back when she dreamed.

Megan sat on the floor holding a sheet of construction paper. She cut out hearts with her little scissors and Scotch-taped them to homemade greeting cards. Mommy lay on the couch under a blanket and watched with a big smile.

She liked to be busy having fun, especially with Mommy watching. Daddy was at work and Nate was upstairs sleeping, so they were enjoying some special Mommy and Megan time. She wanted it to last forever. She wanted to stay awake and play all night.