"Can you play with him for just a minute? I'll be right back."
Dempsey watched as Steve maneuvered his way through the throng of kids vying for his attention until he stood at her side.
"I have to go."
"Why? We just got here. Raymundo loves to play ball. Just go play with him for a bit. It makes him happy."
"But he fell down. I don't want to hurt him."
Dempsey laughed. "You can't hurt that kid. He's tough as nails."
Steve and Dempsey both watched as Marissa threw the ball to Raymundo, who ran after it and fell again before he clambered to his feet and tossed it back to her. Dempsey waved at Marissa, who fired a fastball straight to Steve. Raymundo giggled and held his hands up, ready to catch a throw from Steve.
"Okay, just a little bit more," Steve said to Dempsey. "But really, I can't stay long."
Steve and Raymundo tossed the ball back and forth for forty-five minutes, until it was time to feed the kids their lunches and give them a rest. Marissa assisted in passing out lunch trays and getting each kid settled into a chair at the table. Steve made sure each child had something to drink.
Dempsey hugged Marissa goodbye and Steve gave a small wave to the room. Raymundo bolted from his seat and latched onto Steve's leg with a powerful squeeze and a "Thanks for the ballgame, bro," before he ran back to his seat to finish his lunch.
"Cute little amoeba, isn't he?" Steve said.
* * *
Another month went by. Seven a.m. phone calls to say good morning. Lunch break phone calls to see how their days were going. Steve prepared gourmet meals on occasion. Dempsey cooked home-style comfort foods from recipes she'd learned from her mother. Sometimes they just ordered pizza or Thai take-out or warmed up gourmet leftovers.
* * *
"There's something I have to ask you," Steve said. He fidgeted in his seat and swirled his spoon in the chicken and sausage gumbo Dempsey had made from scratch.
"Sure, anything. You need some Tabasco?"
"No, no this is plenty spicy for me."
"So what did you want to ask me?" It dawned on Dempsey that he might be ready to pop the question. His nervousness. Hesitation. Announcing that he had a question to ask rather than just asking it in normal conversation. No, this would not be an ordinary question. Maybe, just maybe …
"Do you believe in evolution? Or are you one of those who believes God spoke the entire universe into existence in six days?"
Okay, it wasn't the proposal Dempsey had anticipated. But it was a topic they'd rarely discussed. He'd accepted the fact that she was a believer and he didn't ridicule her for it; she accepted the fact that he didn't believe, and she didn't condemn him for that.
"I believe evolution has occurred, and still occurs," Dempsey said. "But I don't believe in it."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"You're not listening. I believe two plus two is four. I believe math. I don't believe in math."
"So you do believe the universe came into existence through evolution, not some intelligent design or creation theory, right?"
Dempsey took another bite of her gumbo, then added a bit more Tabasco before she answered.
"I believe evolution is the process by which the universe was created, yes. But evolution does not preclude the existence of a Creator who initiated, planned, and controlled the process. Evolution does not disprove God. Evolution is the 'how.' Evolution does not answer the 'why.' In fact, evolution is such a miraculous concept, such an extraordinarily complex set of interrelated events over billions of years, it might be more evidence there must have been a Creator, don't you think?"
Dempsey tore off a piece of French bread and dipped it in her gumbo.
"I suppose," Steve finally said, "if one believes in God, anything can be used as evidence of his existence."
"You're not one of those science-nuts who believes the study of the physical universe disproves the reality of the spiritual realm, are you?"
Steve finally gave in.
"Okay, pass me the Tabasco. But I'm only going to try a few drops."
* * *
"Dempsey, we've got a pretty exciting new development down here. As soon as you get off work, come straight to the lab. I want you to see this first hand."
She listened to the voice mail at least five times. She'd never heard Steve so excited about anything. As soon as her shift ended, she drove straight to the university. She didn't even bother to change out of her scrubs.
* * *
"Sure, I'll look, but I won't know what I'm looking at." Dempsey squinted and peered into the eyepieces to the huge microscope. Lots of little translucent gray squiggles. "Oh, you've got them reproducing? Is that it?"
"Wait. I'll explain. We've found an enzyme these little critters love to eat. They congregate to it. I've put some of that enzyme on the slide in a specific pattern, and I'll activate it with heat. So keep watching and see what happens when I turn on the light."
Dempsey looked into the chaotic mass of gray squiggles again. With a click of a switch, the slide glowed violet. The squiggles began to move quicker, still chaotic, random, bumping into each other, all headed in different directions. But as she watched, the squiggles clumped together in places, emptying out some spaces on the slide in front of her. Soon, the clumps thinned into lines. Straight lines. Straight lines moving in precise formations, like a marching band. Order out of random chaos.
The lines shifted and stretched and moved this way or that. Lines connected to each other to form shapes. Geometric shapes. Right angles. Forty-five degree angles.
Some shorter lines swirled around, twisted, apart from the other lines at first, then moved closer and curved in on themselves to form semicircles, no longer content with straight lines and angles.
The bacteria marched around and across the slide, connecting to each other in places, separating in places, until the movement finally settled into position. The bacteria under the microscope had formed words.
MARRY
ME
Dempsey pulled away, then leaned in again for another look. Then she turned to Steve.
"You couldn't just hire a skywriting plane or propose on the Jumbotron at a baseball game like any normal guy?" She laughed as she wiped a tear from each eye.
A rare awkward silence fell over them.
"Well?" Steve had waited for her answer, but she hadn't given it yet.
"You know this is a major life decision. And you know what I do before any major life decision, right?"
"Yeah, I know. You pray about it until God gives you a sign. Well, pray then. C'mon."
"I will, okay, just be quiet and give me a minute."
Dempsey closed her eyes and bowed her head as she sat on the tall stool at the counter in front of the microscope. She clasped her hands together tightly in her lap. She prayed silently but fervently, looking for guidance beyond the limits of science.
She opened her eyes and raised her head and took a deep breath.
"Well?" Steve asked again.
Dempsey didn't answer him, but she bent over and looked into the microscope again, still amazed at the bacteria formation. She pulled away and waved Steve over.
"This is interesting. Take a look."
Steve leaned across in front of her and glanced into the microscope.
"How, how did …" Steve sputtered and stammered then looked into the scope once more. The bacteria answered in unison:
YES!
"Wow, that's really random, don't you think?" Dempsey said.
"No," Steve said. "I think it's a sign."
Acknowledgements
A project like this cannot be done alone—at least not well. This anthology arose from the relationships I've developed through AgentQuery Connect, which is the best community of writers I've found. I thank the administrators of the AQC community for establishing a welcoming, supportive environment in which writers can share their works in progress, gain information about the dynamic publishing industry as a whole, a
nd receive honest, constructive feedback on queries and manuscripts. We are in their debt.
I also thank Cat Woods and Robb Grindstaff, my primary partners on this project, who reviewed every submission and offered their thoughts on whether a story worked or not. Robb, a full-time editor these days, copyedited every story except his own and worked with each writer to make their stories as strong as they could be. Our trio worked well together, and I hope our schedules allow us to do this again.
I also thank R.C. Lewis, Calista Taylor, and Peter Morin, who provided invaluable insight to the process of electronic publishing.
Finally, I thank Adriann Ranta of Wolf Literary Services, who represents Mindy McGinnis. Even though she is not my agent, Adriann answered several questions and was a delight to work with at all times. Any writer would be fortunate to have such capable and dedicated representation as Adriann and Wolf Literary.
About the Authors
MarcyKate Connolly
MarcyKate Connolly is a writer and nonprofit arts administrator living in New England with her husband and pugs. She’s also a coffee addict, voracious reader, and recurring commuter. She blogs about all those things and more at www.marcykate.com. “Connected” is her first published work.
S.Q. Eries
Once upon a time, S.Q. Eries was an engineer who wrote dry technical reports. Then one day, she discovered anime fanfiction, and she's been writing fiction ever since. Her short stories have been featured in the anthology Playthings of the Gods and the young adult e-zine Scape. She also contributes manga reviews for The Fandom Post website. Currently, she's hard at work on a manuscript about the first woman to win the ancient Olympics.
For more about her and her writerly research, drop by her blog: sqeries.wordpress.com.
Robb Grindstaff
After a career as a journalist, editor and business executive in the newspaper industry, Robb Grindstaff now writes and edits fiction full-time. Newspapers took him from Arizona to North Carolina, Texas to Washington, D.C., and five years in Asia. He currently seeks agency representation for two completed novels while working on his third. His short stories have appeared in anthologies and e-zines, and his articles on the craft of writing have published in writer magazines and websites in the U.S., U.K., and Australia. He is a contributing writer to the American Independent Writers Association (AIW) upcoming book, "35 Years of Writing Essentials." Robb has edited fiction and nonfiction for traditionally published, indie and self-published, and agented authors from the U.S., Australia, Canada, and Europe. You can learn more about Robb's writing and his editing services at www.robbgrindstaff.com. He can be contacted at [email protected].
J. Lea López
J. Lea López writes upmarket women's fiction and erotica, and has had short fiction published with Oysters & Chocolate and Divine Dirt Quarterly. She loves Dean Koontz, jello, cute animal pictures and bad sci-fi movies. She dislikes mean people, bad sex scenes, and writing bios about herself in third person. For musings on the writing life and more, check out her blog at jlealopez.blogspot.com or on Twitter @JLeaLopez where she spends way too much of her time.
Mindy McGinnis
Mindy McGinnis is a young adult librarian and author. Her debut, a young adult dystopian currently titled Not a Drop to Drink will be available from Katherine Tegen / Harper Collins Fall, 2013. She blogs at writerwriterpantsonfire.blogspot.com and tweets @bigblackcat97.
R.S. Mellette
R.S. Mellette, originally from Winston-Salem, NC, now lives in Sherman Oaks, CA where he slaves away at turning his imaginary friends into real people. While working on Xena: Warrior Princess, he created and wrote The Xena Scrolls for Universal's New Media department. When an episode aired based on his characters, it became the first intellectual property to move from the internet to television. Robert works and blogs for the film festival Dances With Films (www.danceswithfilms.com) as well as www.fromthewriteangle.com.
Yvonne Osborne
Yvonne Osborne lives and writes on an organic farm in Brown City, Michigan. Her work has appeared in Steam Ticket, Pure Francis, and Full of Crow, and her short story "Maybe" recently appeared in the Notes from Underground Anthology. She blogs at yvonneosborneblogspotcom.blogspot.com.
Matt Sinclair
Matt Sinclair is a New York City-based journalist covering philanthropy and charity, primarily in the United States—a field he has covered since the mid-1990s—and a freelance writer covering as much of everything else as he can. Before falling in love, becoming a father, and fretting over the possibility of asteroids obliterating life on earth, he wrote and performed songs about attractive girls who only wanted to be friends. And one or two about ... no, they were all about pretty girls. He blogs at elephantsbookshelf.blogspot.com and www.fromthewriteangle.com and recently established a personal website at www.mwsinclair.com.
A.M. Supinger
A.M. Supinger is a 23-year-old Floridian living in South Dakota. She writes when not working, and spends the rest of her spare time buried under piles of books. Her husband, two schnauzers, and two cats all bark and claw their way into her most precious moments. This is A.M.’s first time in print, but she has a blog full of free stories at innerowlet.blogspot.com and she tweets as @AMSupinger.
Cat Woods
Cat Woods pens stories for readers of all ages. Her juvenile lit is represented by Stephen Fraser, while her daily musings are too whimsical to be represented by anyone. When she’s not raising her family of six, she can be found blogging at www.catwoods.wordpress.com and www.fromthewriteangle.com. She’s a moderator on AgentQuery Connect, a freelance writer and a Scrabble Addict.
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