“Oh.”
“So maybe you were a little embarrassed.”
“Yeah.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
Jenny frowned. “Look, I know you probably mean well and everything, but I’m really not ready for one of those God-loves-you speeches.”
Tony’s eyebrows rose over his glasses. “Wow. I guess you got a lot of those.”
“Growing up, sure.” Anyone who knew Jackson McGrath as he really was and who believed in God had told her that. She’d always assumed it was so she’d think at least someone loved her.
But if God really loved me, would He have given me Jackson McGrath as a father? or the mother who ran away and left me?
Those questions had plagued Jenny since she’d first started to think about God and where she was supposed to fit into the world. All these years later, she still didn’t have any answers.
“I got a lot of them too,” Tony said. “My mom was really into church. She tried to cram it down my throat every time I turned around. So I resisted, you know. The way kids will.”
Jenny just looked at him.
“Okay, so maybe I extended my childhood a couple of decades. I still like my Xbox 360 and PS3 and maybe horror movies a little more than I should. The point is, I didn’t listen to my mom. I went with her to church, but instead of listening, I was busy skulling out whatever level in the game I was currently playing that was giving me problems. I wasn’t really paying attention. I stood when she stood. I bowed my head when she bowed her head. And I pretended to pray while she prayed for me.”
The conversation wasn’t relaxing Jenny at all. She realized in that moment that part of the reason she hadn’t been back to see Megan Gander these days was because Megan had found God.
But Jenny just couldn’t buy into it, though she still didn’t have another explanation for all the disappearances.
“The point is,” Tony went on, “my mother disappeared during the rapture.”
There was that word again. When Jenny had heard it in church, she hadn’t thought much about it. It was just one of those terms like heaven, good, evil, apostle, and others. The Bible was filled with words that didn’t mean what she’d thought they meant while reading on her own. She’d gotten easily confused, and she hadn’t wanted to ask anyone about anything she’d read.
“After I found out what was going on,” Tony said, “I thought I knew what was happening. I called home. Got no answer. During the confusion, I slipped away and went home. When I got there, Mom was gone. Laundry was still spread out on the couch. I knew then that the rapture had happened.”
Drawn into the story, Jenny couldn’t help asking, “Why?”
Tony grinned. “Because God calling her home is the only thing that would have gotten my mom to stop in the middle of laundry. The woman was a factory when it came to washing, drying, and folding. The U.S. post office is a bunch of pikers compared to my mom.” His dark eyes glimmered with unshed tears.
“I’m sorry,” Jenny said quietly.
“Me too,” Tony admitted. “Not because she’s gone but because now I’m going to have to wait seven years to see her again. And mostly I’m sorry because I didn’t believe in God enough to go with her.”
Jenny didn’t know what to say.
“Believing is important.”
Jenny shook her head. “I don’t think I know how to believe.”
Tony smiled. “Sure you do. There are a lot of things you believe in. Just think for a minute, and you’ll start to realize it. For me, it was my mom. Didn’t you ever believe in your…” He stopped and looked at Jackson McGrath.
“No,” Jenny said quietly. “Believing in my father ended way before believing in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.”
Tony looked horribly embarrassed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up bad thoughts.”
Just being in this room brings up bad thoughts. Jenny decided not to mention that.
“But this can’t be all you’ve ever had,” Tony persisted. “What about friends?”
“No. None that I could talk to for long. Every time I made a friend, they ended up meeting my dad. That was kind of a deal breaker.”
“Oh.” Tony smiled at her. “Well, I’m your friend. And I know a lot of the women here at the hospital have taken to you too. A lot of people care about you, Jenny.”
For a moment Jenny thought she was going to cry. But she wouldn’t allow herself to. It was almost like being back in Mrs. Wilson’s class in the fifth grade, when she’d started getting her figure. She’d worked hard at school that year and had attended class most of the time. The teachers took up a collection to buy her some new clothes and a winter coat. Until that time she’d been stuck with boys’ hand-medowns that her father had wheedled from the women running the thrift stores.
For a while Jenny had actually felt good about going to school. She’d looked good and been warm. Then the other kids, jealous of the attention from the teachers Jenny was receiving, found out where she’d gotten the clothes. They started making fun of her, referring to her as a “ghetto” child. Wearing the clothes and the coat had never been the same. It wasn’t until she’d gotten to junior high school and learned to make her own clothes that she started taking some pride in herself. And she’d never trusted that to anyone else.
“Thank you,” Jenny said.
“You’re welcome. Praying is the best thing you can do. You may not feel like you’re getting anywhere at first. I gotta admit, I didn’t. But praying for me was like talking to my mom. I talked to her a lot at first; then somewhere in there I started talking to God. He hasn’t quite started answering back. At least, not the way you think of conversation. But I’m starting to notice things. Guideposts. A feeling of the way things are supposed to be.” Tony shook his head. “I really can’t explain it any better than that.”
Jenny nodded, tried to think of a response, then gave up.
“What I’m telling you is, don’t be afraid of prayer. I think more people should be doing it. And if you stay with it, you might be surprised at what you learn.”
“Okay.”
“And if you ever need anything, Jenny, I’m usually around. Just let me know.”
“I will.”
“Light off or on?”
“Off, please.”
Tony switched the light off.
Jenny thanked him again and watched him leave. She looked back at her father. In the blue glow given off by the television mounted on the wall, Jackson McGrath looked like a specter swaddled in the hospital bedding. A feeling came over her that she was supposed to say something, but she had no idea what. Or to whom.
She glanced up at the television again. The anchor on OneWorld NewsNet was talking now. His words, printed in block letters, appeared and scrolled on the screen.
Jenny thought about calling Megan. She couldn’t imagine what her friend was going through at the moment with her husband’s life hanging in the balance in the middle of that conflict. Then again, when she stared at her father, she thought maybe she did know part of what Megan was going through.
At least Megan knows how she’s supposed to feel, God. Why don’t I?
25
United States 75th Army Rangers Outpost
Harran
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 0758 Hours
The sound of the heavy war machines tearing through the town assaulted Goose’s eardrums. He concentrated on the task at hand, putting one foot in front of the other as he carried the wounded Ranger on the door even though his knee felt like it was on fire. It was an exercise of will more than strength that got him to the noisily idling van next to the wrecked APC. Flames still danced along the top of the Syrian vehicle.
“Oh, man,” Gary the cameraman whispered as he stepped over one of the burned corpses. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”