An old woman lay in the bed, looking like she was a heartbeat away from leaving this world. A much younger woman rested by her side, holding the dying woman’s hand. She gazed at them with an inevitable look of grief. The air felt stale inside, thick with dread.
“Who are these people, Matt?” the younger woman said.
“They are doctors,” Matt said. “We found them down south.”
“Why are they here?” she asked. Her voice seemed to be channeling her grief into anger.
“They said they could help, Catherine,” Matt said sheepishly. “For a meal or two. I figured it . . . they could be the answer to our prayers.”
“Oh, Matt . . .” Catherine used the voice that Carlee’s mother had before she had left with the vagrants.
“We can help,” Carlee said. “I promise.”
She didn’t wait for further approval before she pulled a small device from one her pockets and knelt next to Heather. Catherine started to protest, but she stopped as Carlee looked Heather over. She checked her dim eyes and put her head to Heather’s chest to listen to her heart. Carlee frowned.
“I need to draw a little blood,” Carlee said. “Just a prick.”
“I don’t think—”
Carlee pushed her small device up to Heather’s arm and held it there for just a moment. Heather stirred slightly at the touch. Catherine didn’t look happy, but she didn’t say anything.
“She has cancer,” Carlee said.
“My God . . .” Matt said.
“I thought as much,” Catherine said. She leaned back in her chair. She looked dazed and resigned.
“I think . . .” Carlee trailed off as she ran her hand over a number of different pockets in her uniform, making a show of it. “That I may have something!”
Matt started crying, and Catherine stared up in wonder. Carlee pressed in the medications she needed over the rocks that had been in her pocket in a blink of an eye. Sometimes, it still surprised her just how easy lifesaving miracles were for her.
“Yes! Here it is!” Carlee opened a pocket and pulled out a small bottle with pills and a syringe. “I knew I would find the perfect person for this someday. I’ve been carrying it for a decade! I’ll be so glad to be free of it finally.”
Carlee uncapped the needle and cleaned the skin with the liquid it held before stabbing the needle into Heather. The woman jerked in bed and gasped.
“I can’t believe it . . .” Matt sobbed as he fell to his knees.
Stefani breathed in deeply behind Carlee, obviously trying to control herself. Carlee felt guilty for feeling relieved at focusing Stefani’s angst elsewhere. Hopefully, it would keep her from asking questions that Carlee wasn’t allowed to answer about what was really pushing the vagrants down their current path.
“She’ll need to take one of these pills each day for the next week,” Carlee said. “But I anticipate a full recovery.”
“I knew it . . . I prayed for it . . . I prayed and prayed . . .” Matt continued to cry his eyes out with his gun at his feet.
His unashamed show of emotion and faith was too much for Stefani.
“Someone mentioned a decent meal?” Stefani asked.
“It’s a miracle,” Catherine said. The thirty-something woman with dirty hair tied up in a bun looked like she was having an out-of-body experience. Carlee brushed Heather’s cheek, which was already improving. She’d helped people in worse shape before.
“You said there are others who need my help?” Carlee asked. She didn’t make any effort to correct them, to tell Matt and Catherine that it wasn’t some divine intervention and that she was a vagrant. It felt strange to play off their faith, but perhaps God had guided her here. Besides, she was in favor of anything that helped people get through this life—and that kept them from killing her for being a vagrant.
“Yes! Yes! There are others! We’ll have them come!” Matt was jubilant now as he climbed to his feet. He was halfway out the door before Carlee could stop him.
“She needs her rest,” Carlee said. “Perhaps I’ll visit the others while my colleagues eat.”
“Of course,” Matt said. “Whatever you want.”
He held the door for them while they exited the yurt. Catherine was still in her seat, mumbling a prayer.
Outside of the dwelling, it looked like the rest of the small community had gathered. A hundred adults of various ages and the same toddlers as before stood before them. Their faces were all anxious.
“Oh, boy,” Stefani mumbled. Carlee was thankful that Stefani limited her reservations to that brief comment. She had always been one to wear her true sentiments on her sleeve, and Carlee envied that about her. Unfortunately, Carlee was better at keeping things hidden.
“They had the cure!” Matt shouted. “Heather is going to recover!”
The cheers started slowly at first, but they soon spread through the small village.
11 A WARM MEAL
“IT’S NOT AS BAD AS some villages we stop at,” Stefani said. “At least this food is cooked. And no one held on to our feet, crying. Yet, at least.”
She took another bite of her nearly burned chicken leg, and Jeff watched as Carlee moved on to another yurt. She was making speedy progress, moving from yurt to yurt every few minutes. At her current pace, he wasn’t sure that he’d be finished with his food before she finished attending to all of their sick.
“So, this is what you guys do?” Jeff asked. “You go around to different communities and help them? Ease the pain?”
“That’s the most of it. Not as glorious as you thought, eh? Vagrants get a bad rap, but we’re really not that exciting.”
“Well, I did see you destroy a giant spinning wheel of death . . .”
“Carlee likes it, though. She actually seems to think it’s going to make a difference.”
“I think she’s already made a difference,” Jeff said. He wanted to tell Stefani what he would give for Chad and his family to have a second chance like Heather had just received, but he held it in. “Didn’t you see the faces of those people back there? They practically worship Heather.”
“They’d be smarter if they did,” Stefani said. She took a swig of her drink and coughed. She had ordered the strongest thing they had available. Jeff would have done the same, but he was having a hard enough time thinking straight and walking as it was.
“What do you mean?” Jeff asked.
She continued to cough for a minute until finally getting a hold of herself. She immediately took another sip.
“You heard them in the yurt back there. Miracle. God. Jesus and all that. They still think there is something out there that thinks they’re worth half a thought.”
“So, you’re not spiritual.”
The bravest of the toddlers walked slowly up to Stefani and held out a small flower for her.
“Ah, thank you, sweetheart,” Stefani said. As soon as she accepted the flower, the little girl went running back toward the center of the yurts. Stefani had chosen to sit as far away from the other humans as possible. It was a choice that Jeff had supported.
“You’ve seen part of what we can do,” Stefani said as she studied the flower. “I could turn this flower into a gun. I could turn those stones over there into bread. I could turn your water into wine. Does that make me the son of God?”
“I didn’t say I was a believer,” Jeff said. “Don’t need to preach to me about it.”
“I’m a believer,” Stefani said. “I’m a believer that he was a vagrant. He even taught his followers to be vagrants. I believe it’s how the pyramids were built and how wars were won. Really, I believe that most people in history—those whose names we can remember—were vagrants.”
“It’s hard to see you press something and not think it’s a miracle. It defies logic.”