by Bill Myers
“Perhaps. But until I know for certain, I believe it would be premature to discontinue the life supports.”
“You know what the doctors say. The man’s brain is gone, it’s scrambled. There’s nothing left in his skull.”
“Ernesto,” his mother admonished.
Again Ernesto’s hand was in his hair. “You can’t deny the medical facts.”
“And I can’t deny my client his rights.”
“Your client?”
Julia closed her eyes, trying to remain calm. She’d been awake nearly twenty-eight hours with virtually no sleep. “He is my father. He has given me power of attorney. And as long as I have that power, I say we need to wait and see.”
“How long? Another day?” Ernesto argued. “A week? If he gasps again do we give him a month? Just because you say so?”
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“As long as I have power of attorney, we give him whatever I say we give him.”
Ernesto held her gaze and began to nod. She knew exactly what he was thinking: Two thousand dollars a day times seven days or thirty days or 180 days . . . once her father’s insurance had maxed out, nothing eats up an estate’s money like ICU bills. And if Ernesto and Mom and Sis, there, were still in the will and if Julia decided to feed their inheritance to hospital bills—well, she knew that the loyal, grieving Ernesto would soon be thinking of something else. If Julia was the only one with the power to pull the plug . . . then there had to be some way to replace her.
And, of course, there was. It was just a matter of time before he found it.
v
“So you haven’t seen him since yesterday morning?” Conrad asked.
Suzanne took another sip of her Dr. Pepper and answered.
“He said he was going off to Griffith Park for the night.
Wanted to spend some time in prayer.”
“Griffith Park?” Conrad asked in concern.
Suzanne nodded.
“By himself? For the entire night?”
“He does that once in a while.”
“Suzanne, this is Los Angeles.”
“He’ll be okay.” She glanced out the Burger King window toward the Motel 6 across the street. Jake and a slight, skinny kid were in the parking lot working under the hood of a beater Toyota. The rest of the group were either in their motel rooms, out shopping, or catching some of the Southern California sights.
“Did he say when he’d return?” Conrad asked.
Suzanne pushed her hair back, smiling that smile of hers, the one that always made his heart swell. “Never stop being the reporter, do you?” she teased. “Always have to be asking questions.”
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He glanced at the uneaten burger before him and shrugged. “I guess old habits are hard to break.”
She reached out and patted his arm in understanding. “I know.”
His eyes darted to hers. She knew? What did she know?
Surely, she wasn’t talking about his feelings. Surely he was better at hiding them than that.
“He’ll be okay,” she repeated. “He does this from time to time, especially when he has important decisions to make.”
She withdrew her hand. Conrad glanced out the window, both relieved and saddened. His panic had been unwarranted; she had thought he was still talking about Eli. And why not? After all, that’s the excuse he always used when visiting her. It was a small lie, but one worth the telling if it gave him an opportunity to be near her.
Then there was the matter of his posting bail for the man.
Of course, he’d told himself that putting up the money was to help balance out the injustice of the raid. But deep inside he knew it was for Suzanne. She’d finally found her knight in shining armor. He could see it in her eyes every time she looked at Eli, every time she spoke his name. And, although he could not deny the jealousy, his logic dictated that if he couldn’t be the one to be with her, what better person was there for her than Eli Shepherd.
Of course he’d hinted to her about the love he saw, and of course she’d denied it.
“Connie,” she had laughed, “I’m fifteen years his senior.
What possible romance could there be between us?”
Maybe he was wrong. Part of him hoped so. But Conrad had put up the bond money just the same. Romance or no romance, the knight would not rust in jail, not if he could do anything about it.
There was, however, something he could not do: Stop EBN’s broadcast of the story . . . and their selling of it to any news organization showing interest. And there were plenty. The arrest had been forty-eight hours ago, and by now hundreds of local hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 88
88 stations had picked it up as a softer, people-in-the-news piece.
If Eli Shepherd hadn’t become a household word yet, he was certainly on his way.
“There he is now.” Suzanne motioned out the window.
Conrad leaned past an advertisement painted on the glass and saw the young man making his way down the sidewalk. “Let’s see what’s up,” she said, finishing her soft drink and rising from the table. He nodded and crawled out of the booth.
“You okay?” she asked as they swung past the drink dis-penser so she could refill her drink.
“Sure, why?”
“I don’t know, you just seem a little . . . sullen, that’s all.”
Conrad cranked up a grin, doing his best to hide the sadness. Because, despite the warm rush he felt whenever she was near, there was also the hollow aching when he realized that they could never be together. “Just got a lot on my mind,”
he lied.
She nodded. But as they walked across the orange tiled floor, sticky from a recently spilled drink, and he pushed open the glass door for her, he could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced. He’d just have to work harder, that’s all.
The outside air was hot and raw with exhaust fumes. A metro bus eased to the curb in front of them, its brakes screeching as impatient cars accelerated around it. Conrad started for the crosswalk, but Suzanne grabbed his arm and dragged him behind the bus and out into the street. Fortunately, cars were stopped for the light so the couple could safely thread their way between bumpers until they made it to the other side.
“Eli?” Suzanne called as they approached the curb. “Eli?”
The young man looked up from his thoughts and broke into a smile as they joined him. Despite the fatigue in his eyes, the pleasure at seeing the two of them showed through.
“Hey.” He grinned.
“You had us worried,” Conrad said.
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Eli gave a brief nod as they continued walking toward the parking lot. “I’m glad you’re here, Connie. I’ve got some good news.”
“What’s that?”
“Can you stick around a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
“Great.” As they arrived at the parking lot, Eli called over to the Toyota where the two men were working. “Jake?
Trevor?”
Two heads emerged from under the hood.
“Would you mind rounding up the folks, tell them we’ve got a meeting out here? I have an important announcement to make.”
The men nodded and closed the Toyota’s hood. It gave a creaking groan of resistance.
“Suzanne, Connie—would you bang on the Carlsons’ and Barnicks’ RVs, see if anyone’s home? I’ll check on Maggie, the Browns, and Scott and Brent.”
“Sure,” Suzanne agreed.
Twenty minutes later two dozen people were gathered in the broiling parking lot of the Motel 6. Most of them Conrad recognized from the softball game or from his visits with Suzanne. A few he did not.
“All right, everybody,” Eli called from the partial shade cast by Jake’s RV, “listen up.” The group quieted. “We’ve got some new marching orders. Looks like my Father wants me to go to Salem County, Georgia.”
“He wants me to be there in time for the grand opening of Dr. Kerston’s new facility.”
“What?” Big Jake cried from the back of the group. “You’re not serious?”
Others voiced similar objections.
Eli grinned and raised his hands. “I know, I know. It’s crazy, but it’s not the first crazy thing I’ve been asked to do, is it?” There was little reaction. “Well, is it?”
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Reluctantly, a few agreed.
“Okay. Now since we’ve got plenty of time and since there are so many people across our land who are clueless about the Kingdom of Heaven, I’ve decided not to take a plane.
Instead, I want to turn it into a road trip . . . which in a sense we’ve already begun. So, first thing tomorrow I’m heading out, and I’d love for all of you who are interested to join me.”
There was more murmuring—some of it positive, some of it concerned.
“Eli,” an older gentleman in shorts called out, “what about our families?” Others nodded as the man continued.
“I’ve been away from them for nearly three weeks now.”
Eli answered, “I understand, Jeff. And if your family’s more important to you than me, you’re right, you need to get back to them.”
The man gave a nod followed by a frown . . . as if he wasn’t entirely sure he’d received the answer he’d wanted.
“What about school?” a young brunette in shortly cropped hair asked. “Summer classes start in a week.”
“Another good point,” Eli said. “If school’s more important to you, then by all means, head back to it.”
“And work?” asked Brian Tuffts, the man whose arm Eli had healed at the softball park.
“What about it, Brian?”
“Most of us have jobs we’ve got to get back to.” Eli remained silent. The man continued. “I mean, we’ve got to eat, right? We’ve got bills to pay, kids to put through college, mortgages.”
Eli slowly nodded. He looked across the parking lot as he chewed on the statement. Something near the motel’s office caught his eye, and he turned back to Tuffts. “Tell me, Brian.”
He motioned toward the brick planter next to the motel’s glass doors. “Check out those birch trees over there, and the geraniums.” The group turned to look. “You don’t see them fret-ting and worrying, do you? They’re not concerned about paying bills, or meeting mortgages. But look how my Father hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 91
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takes care of them. And look at those birds.” He nodded toward a handful of pigeons sitting on the electrical wires running to the office. “Have you ever seen them starve?”
“But Eli,” he protested, “they’re pigeons.”
“Exactly. And aren’t you more important to my Father than pigeons? If He takes care of their needs, as insignificant as they are, don’t you think He’ll take care of yours?”
Brian held his gaze a moment, then glanced away, unable to find an answer.
Eli turned to the rest of the group. “If you can’t come with me, I’ll understand. But there is not one of you who, if you give up your family, or work, or career, will not receive a hundred times that much back—not only in this lifetime, but later, with me in Heaven.” The group shifted slightly and he continued. “Listen very carefully now. If you pursue God’s Kingdom before anything else, all of these other things that you’re worrying about, they will be given to you. Automati-cally. No strings attached. I give you my word. That’s how my Father works. That’s how His Kingdom works.”
The group grew quiet, obviously pondering the truthful-ness of the statement, working through its relevance in each of their lives.
Eli waited a moment, then continued. “Now, there are only twelve of you that my Father has clearly pointed out to me. The rest of you are more than welcome to come, and as I said, you will certainly be happier if you do. But I know for a fact that God has called these twelve men to be by my side.”
“Men?” a heavyset woman asked.
“It’s nothing against you, Maggie. Your dedication and hard work has outshone these goofballs more times than I can count.” He nodded to the men with a teasing grin. A few of the guys responded in mock protest. He continued. “It’s just going to be easier if they’re the ones breaking down the traditions and religious barriers.”
“Because?” Maggie demanded.
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“Because those traditions and barriers are controlled by some very rigid men.”
Maggie began to nod. She didn’t like the answer, but she understood.
Eli turned to the group. “So everyone is invited, both men and women, but I specifically want these twelve to follow me.” He glanced over at Jake, his eyes once again sparkling.
“So what do you say, big guy? You interested?”
Jake nodded. “You can count on me, Eli, you know that.”
Eli grinned. “And your brother, Robert? Where is he?”
“He’s over with Rachel and her mom checking out them movie star footprints. I’ll tell him when he gets back.”
“Good.” Next Eli turned to the bald-headed biker with the racist tattoos. “Will?”
The man looked up, more than a little surprised.
“You with me?”
He shuffled slightly then gave a stiff, self-conscious nod.
Conrad looked around the group and smiled at the number of people exchanging raised eyebrows.
“Terry, are you here?” Eli asked. “Carl?”
“They’re down at Disneyland,” Maggie volunteered.
“Hector?”
“The same.”
“You’ll tell them?” he asked.
“Of course,” she sighed.
Eli nodded and turned to the skinny kid who had been working with Jake on the Toyota. “Trevor?”
The kid blinked in surprise, then nodded slightly before looking at the ground in painful shyness.
“Scott? Brent?”
Two good-looking brothers about Eli’s age exchanged glances with one another, then turned to their mother who stood not far away. She gave a solemn, almost imperceptible nod, which the boys duplicated and returned to Eli.
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Eli smiled and turned to Keith Anderson, the production assistant from Charlene Marshal’s show. The kid wore the same shorts he had worn on the broadcast, only this time they revealed two strong, healthy legs. “What do you say, Keith?”
“You bet.” The kid beamed, obviously eager for the adven-ture. But the moment was short-lived.
“Eli! Yo, Eli?” The group turned to see Leon Brewster strutting forward, having just arrived. “You wanted to see me, man?”
Eli broke into his trademark grin. “I was just going down the list.”
“And I’m on it, right? Just like we said?”
“You’re on it, Leon . . . just like we said.”
This time the crowd made no effort to hide their surprise.
And concern. Conrad threw an amused look over at Will, who appeared anything but excited. And for good reason. The two men’s lives couldn’t be any more different, or their hatred toward each other any stronger. Eli would definitely have his hands full with those two.
“And finally,” Eli said, as his eyes turned to Conrad,
“Davis.”
If Conrad had been surprised at the mention of Leon’s name, he was dumbstruck at the sound of his own. He felt Suzanne give his arm a squeeze, but could barely hear what she said. In fact, he barely remembered responding. But he must have said something, because Eli had eventually turned back to the group, spoken some final words, and brought the meeting to a close. It was only then, after Eli had started for his motel room, that Conrad finally found his voice . . . and his legs.
He quickly crossed the parking lot toward him. “Eli? Eli. . .”<
br />
Eli turned to him with his usual delight.
“What . . . what are you saying?” Conrad stammered. “You can’t be serious?”
“About what?”
“About me!”
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“Why not?”
“Why not? Why not?”
Eli waited for an answer.
“Because . . . why not? Because I’m not the . . . I mean . . .”
He regrouped, trying to put his thoughts into a coherent string of words. “Why me? I’m not ready for anything like this.”
There was that sparkle again, and then the answer. “Of course you’re ready, Connie. You’ve been waiting for this your entire life.”
v
“The Life Flight crew was on the ground beside him at 16:25, approximately twenty minutes after the accident. He was found to be unconscious, with traumatic head wounds to his forehead and the right side of his skull. His clavicle was shattered, both legs broken, and there appeared to be severe internal injuries. He was intubated, immobilized with cervi-cal collar and backboard, and . . .”
Julia sat impatiently in the ICU lobby, practically knee to knee with Dr. Martin, head of neurosurgery. In his mid-sixties with short gray hair, the gentleman exhibited a quiet wisdom that could come only from years of similar scenarios.
Carefully, he ran down the minute-by-minute details of the care given to her father. The itemized account was of little interest to her, but she understood how important it was to the doctor. As an experienced physician, he obviously knew all the realities and possibilities of malpractice suits.
“We ran a Glasgow Coma Scale on him at the site to measure the seriousness of the trauma.”
This was getting closer to what she needed to hear. “What all does that entail?” she asked.
“We do various tests to measure the response of his eyes, his motor skills, and his verbal ability. Possible scores range from three to fifteen points. A score of thirteen to fifteen indicates relatively minor damage. A score of eight and below indicates serious brain damage.”
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“And what was his reading?” Ernesto asked from the sofa beside them. Julia glanced up, almost forgetting the family was there.