by Adam Grinter
I saw the determination.
I saw the anger.
I saw the fear.
His eyes eventually flicked down to the blade in his hand.
My eyes were drawn to it too.
The red of my blood was familiar. I had experienced this before. I knew what was coming. There was the initial flash of pain. I let go of my assailant’s hand.
I fell to my knees and the jarring sent another shot to my pain receptors.
Someone took my head and laid me down. That’s a very considerate thing to do I thought, that’s where I wanted to be.
I wasn’t thinking straight.
John. Where’s John?
Maria looked down at me from a very long way away.
“Take him. Get him out of here.” I tried to shout but it came out as more of a whisper.
She was miles away. Nevertheless, she heard me and disappeared into the crowd.
Voices said things around me. I’m sure they were making sense to someone. They meant nothing to me.
I could see movement around me. My eyes wanted to close, I needed to sleep.
So tired.
Strangely my alarm kept going off.
I wanted to snooze it and have a bit more sleep. My hand wouldn’t move to find the button.
It was getting louder and louder.
Somehow the alarm gave me peace.
I knew the alarm would save me.
The alarm would make me better.
With that thought I let myself sleep.
#
There was a buzzing that hadn’t been there when I went to sleep.
There was a bright light behind my closed eyelids.
I was thirsty. I had a headache.
I slowly opened my eyes.
Where was I?
The buzzing and the bright light were fluorescent tubes lighting the room I was in.
What room was I in? My house didn’t have fluorescent lighting.
Where was I?
“Thomas.” There was relief in the familiar voice I was struggling to place.
I tried to turn my head. My headache got worse with each degree of movement. I stopped.
“Thirsty.” I croaked.
I heard movement as I assumed someone fumbled for a drinking cup and straw. I was proved right as William loomed over me and gently placed a straw between my parched lips.
I was pleased to see a friendly face. I drank greedily. The first burst scratched at my dry throat and I thought I would gag, cough or splutter it all back up again but then the soothing began. I let the cold liquid do its job and enjoyed the sensation of its passage down my oesophagus.
I moved the straw out of my mouth with my tongue to signal I’d had enough. I lay silent allowing my mind to focus on the events that had brought me here. Snatches of it were coming back.
Cathedral.
Mob.
Knife.
John.
Where was he? Was he safe? Did Maria get him clear?
I wanted to ask all of these questions. I only managed one word.
“John?”
William looked at me and a pained expression came on his face. He picked his words carefully.
“We don’t know where he is.” My heart sank. “Maria got him clear we know that much but she’s keeping him safe and we haven’t spoken to him.”
Maria was keeping him safe. Relief filled me and I relaxed on the bed. I didn’t realise how tense I’d become just from not knowing.
I tried to sit up so I could hold some sort of normal conversation with William. I had no strength to push myself up.
“Wait, wait.” William said. His hands grabbed me under my arms and pulled me up the bed. He fluffed my pillows and propped them behind my back so I could lean on them. The whole ordeal had taken twenty seconds. The exertion had made it seem an eternity. Random shots of pain coursed through me, I was out of breath from the effort even though William had done most of the work. I was exhausted.
William sat back down in the chair I assumed he had been sat in whilst I slept.
“You’re a hero Thomas.” There was a tinge of pride in his tone. “The papers said you saved John. You put yourself in the way. A true hero.”
I didn’t feel very heroic sat in the bed exhausted from the effort of trying to stay upright.
“We’ve released a brief statement to say you’re recovering but I expect you’ll have to do some interviews when you’re in better shape.”
He was steamrollering me again. Making things sound very reasonable and straight forward, pushing forward with them and causing nothing but problems.
“No.” I said with a strength I didn’t know I possessed at that moment. “You said I wouldn’t have to do that sort of thing when I started. I’m not doing it now. I didn’t do what I did for the glory or the recognition. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”
My refusal speech had worn me out and I just wanted to sleep now.
“OK Thomas. I can tell now’s not the best time to talk about this. I’ll let you rest. We can talk about it another time.”
Again, sounding reasonable, but steamrollering.
“No. John told you in his message. Do your good deeds because they are good. Not for the recognition. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.”
There was a finality to my tone. I hoped William wouldn’t argue with it.
He didn’t.
“I’ll let you rest and check on you tomorrow.” He said.
He got up and walked to the door. He turned as he opened it.
“Thanks for everything Thomas. You really have done fantastically. Thank you.”
He exited the room and I revelled in the praise. It felt good and I enjoyed the sensation of pride.
I closed my eyes to drift off to sleep happy in the knowledge John was safe. I’d done a good job.
It didn’t feel like I had been asleep long when I was gently nudged awake by an insistent hand. I opened my eyes to two faces that beamed proudly at me.
“Thomas.” John said excitedly.
“John.” I replied blearily.
“Maria and me were in a hotel.”
I looked at Maria who smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders at the excitement John was showing in the mundane.
“You OK?” I asked her.
“Yes.” She answered. “I not know what to do. Where to go so I check into near hotel. We watch ambulance take you away, out of window.”
“OK. Good.” I didn’t know what else to say to that.
“John want to see you. To make sure you alright.” Maria told me.
“I’m alright John.” I told him reassuringly. “I was more worried about you.”
“Maria looked after me. Mother told me not to worry. She was looking out for all of us again.”
“Talking of Mother.” I said. “Did she tell you what to say in the Cathedral?”
John thought about the question before he answered.
“It was strange.” He said. “I think Mother said those things not me.”
I took in the meaning of his words.
“Had she ever done that before?” I asked.
“Not that I remember.” John answered.
I looked at Maria for help. She looked as confused as I felt.
His upbringing and social isolation had made him emotionally stunted. His optimistic outlook on life was naive if not slightly misplaced. He was truly one of life’s innocents. He’d been protected from the world in the old people’s home. He didn’t understand the ramifications of his revelation. He didn’t understand the consequences of the words he’d delivered to the world. He had dropped a rock into a millpond and the ripples it created were unseen in his eyes. He did good things with no thought of the outcome.
He wouldn’t survive in this world. In the world William had planned for him. He didn’t deserve the hate and stigma that would be directed his way just for doing the right thing.
I came to a decision.
“John can I
have a word with Maria?” I asked.
John stepped away and Maria took his place at my bedside.
“You need to hide him away. This world will eat him alive. The church will destroy him. His innocence.”
“I know.” Maria said. “I thought same thing.”
“Can you get him out of the country?” I asked.
“Probably.” She answered. “What you tell William?”
“I’ll think of something.” I said reassuringly, not feeling very reassured myself.
John wandered back and stood next to Maria. His stance was straighter than normal. His eyes were wider. There was confidence in his movements. It reminded me of his performance during his message.
“Thomas, Maria.” He said looking at us in turn. “You have done all you have been asked. John delivered the message. The world has heard the word. John has played his part. His role is over.”
John paused. Maria looked at me confused.
“John will go with Maria. The message was important. John can now rest. Thomas, Maria I still have plans for you both. They will be revealed in good time. Until then live well, do good, understand the word.”
I thought John had finished as his pause grew longer.
“He is still out there. He is waiting to be found.” John said finally, cryptically.
John’s shoulders slumped and his eyes narrowed slightly, his knees buckled as they had in the pulpit. He quickly regained his balance.
“She’s gone.” John told us. “Mother said good-bye and told me She would see me when it was my time.”
A tear rolled down his cheek as John realised for the first time in his life he was truly alone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It had been a long recovery. My side hurt. However, it was now my badge of honour, not a reminder of my failure.
I hadn’t seen Maria or John after our good-bye at the hospital. Maria had emailed me to say they’d arrived safely. I didn’t ask where they were, I didn’t want to lie to William.
He’d asked and I’d told him the truth. I didn’t know where they were. I had my suspicions. I kept them to myself.
It was another Monday morning. My first day back. I allowed the throngs of people to push me forwards instead of fighting against and through them. I floated on a sea of bodies to Victoria station.
I hadn’t been here for two months. William had told me to stay away until I was ready to return.
The walk to my office was over quickly. I didn’t have a chance to notice the little things, I was eager to get back to doing something.
My office hadn’t been cleaned in my absence and there was a thin layer of dust covering everything. On my desk, a new pile of letters and printed emails detailing miracles for me to disprove.
My mind wandered before I started on the top of the pile. I’d thought about it a lot during my recovery. John’s final message.
He is still out there. He is waiting to be found.
It meant there was someone else.
My search hadn’t ended.
Revelations
He walked the streets as he did everyday. The crowds parted around him. He passed the people seemingly oblivious to their presence. He saw what he needed to see and ignored the rest. The noise as he called it.
At twenty-five he’d seen a lot of noise.
There had been no fanfare at his birth. No announcement in the local paper. No family to wish him well.
His mother, an illegal immigrant doing anything she could to get by. Cleaning, till work, warehouse work. Anything that would put a few dollars in her pocket. Anything that wouldn’t ask too many questions about her immigration status.
A promise of a warm bed and a roof over her head had drawn her to a man who only wanted one thing. Once he had taken that by force, he kicked her back to where he believed she belonged.
Despite the hardship, the rumbling belly and the lack of human decency shown to her she never lost her faith.
She passed it to her son.
She had called him Luke after the gospel.
Luke carried his bible everywhere. Luke read his bible everyday. He believed its words, he trusted its message, he preached its truth.
He knew God had a purpose for him.
He knew God’s time was coming.
He waited.