“Kathy can’t afford it,” he said quietly. “We’d have to pay her way, too.”
“It’s no expense. You can go by bus; it’s real cheap these days, and so are motels.”
Dave said nothing.
“I know how you’ve been troubled about this, Davey,” Laura said quietly. “I don’t know what to do, either. I only want the best for T-Trippy.” She paused to steady her voice. “If the Reverend Jason can help us decide, then let’s ask him. We can talk it over after you come back. Will you go with her? She shouldn’t go alone; besides, he’s our son.”
“I hate to leave him.”
“I know, but remember, he won’t even know. I’ll stay with him. Why don’t you go? Even if the Reverend can’t tell us what to do, surely he can help you decide. Pray on it tonight, OK?”
Dave hesitated. Laura had been leaning toward the experimental regeneration process that troubled him so. Her request now surprised him. The Reverend was most likely to counsel against the procedure, from what Dave had seen of the man; he was pretty conservative. With a sudden stinging in his eyes, he hugged Laura, realizing that she was willing to take the risk of hearing the Reverend’s opinion, for his sake.
She smiled wanly at him, apparently divining his thought. “And maybe he’ll urge you to go for it.” Dave put his face to hers. Asking the Reverend to take their burden suddenly felt very inviting. “I’ll go along with whatever he says.”
The big Trailways bus wasn’t even nuclear powered. While city folk moved faster and more efficiently all the time, welders and mechanics and bartenders and their families out in the country still traveled by bus. This one smelled of kerosene and alcohol and its converter turned them into electricity rather inefficiently; the back end of the bus was noticeably warmer, despite the air conditioning. In his daze, Dave Kiefer hardly noticed. The scenery passed unseen as he relived the morning’s stop at the hospital in Poplar Bluff, where nothing had changed in his son’s condition.
The bus was approaching Cape Giradeau when he suddenly remembered Kathy’s daughter Connie, five years old.
“Where’s Connie?”
“She’s staying with her father,” said Kathy, clutching the little white Bible she had been given on her baptism as a baby. “It’s only for a couple of days. Judy will be nice to her.”
“Oh.”
Dave remained in his numb state while they crossed the Mississippi, cut south through a corner of Illinois, crossed the Ohio, and rumbled down through a corner of Kentucky to Union City, Tennessee. It was dark before they reached that great sprawling city, a vast spiderweb of light.
Dave and Kathy dozed fitfully in their seats throughout the night, as the bus rumbled and stopped, started and rumbled on, through darkness and occasional lights and darkness again. They were grumbling into Chattanooga the next morning and had a lengthy stop for breakfast. Dave tried to wake up, but coffee in his stomach and water splashed on his face were not much help after the uncomfortable night: then they were back in the same positions, heading south toward Atlanta.
Kathy periodically opened her Bible and read silently. Other times, she closed it and simply held on as she gazed out the window. She said nothing about what she read to Dave.
As the bus rumbled on, Dave realized that he was in no hurry to reach Atlanta. Right now, he could wallow in worry with the pretense that he was actually trying to accomplish something, but that would end when they reached their destination. What if Reverend Wayne actually recommended the new regeneration process? Laura, who numbered scientists among her well-educated relatives, was desperate to try it. Dave still felt it was somehow against the will of God, despite his promise to abide by the Reverend’s advice. He clung to the hope that God would bring Trippy around without advanced medical help.
Dave thought of Laura’s tortured face. He did not like the idea of calling home to tell her the Reverend had prohibited the procedure. Maybe Kathy would make the call.
Of course, Dave realized Kathy was hoping the Reverend would explain that using the new process was also the will of God.
Whatever, Dave thought, with the fatalism of his peasant ancestors. If Reverend Wayne decided for it, he would accept the procedure; if the Reverend denounced the process, Dave was determined not to allow it for Trippy.
I just hope he gives us a real answer to our question, this time, he thought wearily.
They were weary unto exhaustion about midday, when the bus stopped at City Central Terminal in Atlanta. Dave and Kathy both stumbled on unaccustomed legs down the steps and went into the sprawling, noisy building.
“I need a rest room right away,” Kathy said. “Then we should get some lunch so we don’t meet the Rev’ren’ on empty stomachs. Listen, let’s dump our things in one of the lockers.”
They stowed their luggage in a locker and ate lunch in the terminal’s cheapest burger joint. Dave’s hands were free now. Kathy kept only her purse and her Bible.
“We could check the motel registry and find a place for tonight,” said Dave, as they finished lunch. “Or we could do that after we go out to the chapel.”
“The First New Testament Gospel World Fellowship Church,” Kathy corrected. “Davey, we have to go right out there or you’ll just fidget all day and so will I. We can find a motel later. Now I got the address right here, but let’s check the City Directory to be sure.”
Dave glanced around uncertainly. He knew she was right about going to see Reverend Wayne right away. Dave was disoriented, partly because of Trippy and now partly after the long ride and uneven rest. Right now, he was glad to let Kathy take charge.
Kathy found kiosks with access to the electronic City Directory for passenger use. According to the information on the kiosks, City Central Terminal tied together not only the interurban and urban bus routes, but also the rail tunnel from the airport and the “ski-lift” cable cars that were beginning to displace city busses in the twenty-first century. Kathy flipped through the City Directory and confirmed the location of the First New Testament Gospel World Fellowship Church.
“We could take the Overhead and walk part way,” said Kathy. “Or we could rent a car here and drive.”
“Let’s rent a car. It might not be a safe neighborhood.” Dave was uneasy about big cities.
“All right. I see a sign for car rentals. Come on.” She gave him a concerned glance and made sure he followed her.
Kathy drove. At that time of day, traffic was light. The little car had a full charge of electricity, and though it wasn’t controlled by the city, it had a computerized map and directory. Kathy keyed in the address and followed the map’s illuminated and spoken directions. Dave watched for the spires of the Fellowship Church.
“We must be getting close,” Kathy said. “See it?”
“No, nothing but these square-topped office buildings,” Dave said uneasily. “The church is bigger than they are, isn’t it?”
“It sure looks huge on holo. Wait a minute, we’re on the same block. Where is it?”
“I don’t see it,” Dave muttered.
“The directions say this is it.” Kathy pointed. “Davey, it’s just another office building.” Her voice betrayed puzzlement as she parked at the first space past the building.
“You put in the address right?”
“I must have. I entered the name of the church with it; the map kicks it out again if they aren’t right.”
Even so, she checked the computer’s memory and showed Dave the slip she’d written it down on: they matched. Kathy looked at him; Dave looked back at her.