They left the ballpark, going over the wall at a dark spot between two lighting standards. If some of the people sitting on the apartment house roofs across the street saw them, they made no outcry about it. Rose led him higher into the sky, then headed south.
O O O
The sensation of need grew so strong that Ray was continually tempted to put the wand down, so he couldn’t feel it anymore, but he was afraid if he did he would fall out of the sky. He wasn’t surprised when they started to descend toward a cluster of buildings surrounded by parking structures. Someone in that much trouble had to be in a hospital. But what was wrong?
The two fairy godparents descended through a roof, made of tar paper and gravel and steel beams, that felt scratchy like sand paper, etching off more layers of nerves. When he stood at last on a solid floor, Ray dropped the wand into his pocket to give himself a breather. Disconnecting from the emotion was such a relief he trembled. The wand still pulled him down the hallway. The child calling to him was somewhere below. He and Rose hailed an elevator. To the annoyance of a nurse who got on with them, he pushed all the buttons. At each stop, the fairy godparents “listened” for the signal to get off.
When the elevator reached four, there was no doubt that this was the floor. Ray stumbled over the threshold, following the irresistible force drawing him. He dodged nurses, carts full of equipment, and patients on foot, in wheelchairs, and on gurneys, walking faster and faster down the wide, white-painted corridor more and more urgently until he found himself running. The sensation stopped abruptly halfway down the hall past the nurses’ station. Ray overshot the mark by a few feet, and was yanked back to the correct door as if on a tether.
Rose caught up with him as he was raising his hand to knock softly. He listened, but no one invited him in. All that was audible on the other side of the door was the burble, click, and hum of machinery. He looked at Rose.
“Go on,” she said. Tentatively, Ray turned the handle and went in.
The large windows opposite the door were heavily curtained, dimming the room so that all Ray saw at first was a cluster of tall square machines. Each of them had blinking screens showing constantly updating charts in amber or green, and all sprouted strands of clear, thin tubes in every direction. Ray recognized one machine as a sophisticated IV dispenser. Another was a respirator, wheezing like an old man as its valves drew breath. The tubes all led to a small body, almost invisible in the large, white bed. It was a little girl, just about the same size as the one he had just left behind at the ballpark. Some kind of square frame held the coverlet up off her feet, and a padded brace cupping her neck from behind dented the big pillows under her shoulders and head. The small hands resting on the coverlet over her thin chest were swollen and puffy from the fluids that poured into her arms from four different tubes. A translucent, cuplike mask covered the lower half of the child’s face and the tubes stuck into both her nose and mouth, but her eyes were open and clear. She turned them to gaze at Ray.
Ray took the wand out of his pocket. No doubt about it: this was his client. There was also no doubt about her wish.
“She wants to die,” he said, shocked.
“Her quality of life is shot,” Rose said sadly. She picked up the chart at the end of the bed and read it. “Not that she had much to begin with. She was born without kidneys, her spine is malformed, she’s got a dozen diseases. She’s been out of this hospital only six months of her life.”
“That’s horrible,” Ray said. “I guess maybe dying is the best thing that could happen for her.” He stopped short, frightened by what he had just said. He stared at Rose, appalled at himself. “But I can’t let a child die.”
“It’s what she wishes,” Rose said. “She’s counting on you. Her parents love her too much. They refuse to see clearly the truth that she understands so well. She could be on life support, getting weaker and weaker, for another six months or sixty years. Who knows? Her pancreas began to fail today, which is why we heard from her now. But her parents and her doctor have a resuscitate order, right here. They’re ordering more heroic measures. They won’t help.” She handed him the chart, and pointed to a few lines of code and a signature. The scrawls meant nothing to him. The thin little face underneath all the plastic life-support equipment watched him seriously. “It’s her life, Ray. Her decision.”
The child turned her eyes to appeal to Ray. She probably couldn’t move anything else, but even so, he couldn’t countenance a wish like that. He made his protest stronger, raising his voice. “I can’t make a child die. That would be murder.”
Rose studied him, and shook her head. “No. You don’t have to take care of this,” the fairy godmother said, gently putting her arm around him and guiding him to a chair. “We have experts to deal with intervention.”
Rose went to the phone next to the bed and dialed four digits. Raymond sat in the chair, clutching his wand between his hands. Who was Rose calling? Was there a terrifying being with bony hands and a hooded cloak that made house calls to cover tough situations for fairy godmothers? Rose gave him a sweet, encouraging smile, then bent to talk to the little girl in the bed, patting her small hands, smoothing her hair. Ray felt like he wanted to burst into tears. He didn’t even know the child, and already he was grieving for her. Her skin was pale, with blue veins showing through on her wrists and temples. She had never been able to play outside in the sun, never ridden a bicycle, never had a best friend. Was it too hard to wish to start over?
The door opened almost silently, and Ray jumped as a narrow shadow fell past his feet. Instead of the tall, skeletal figure he feared, in came a small, scrawny old black woman with sad, loving eyes. She had on a worn, faded cotton dress, and old, shabby, down-at-heel shoes. In spite of her appearance, she had the dignity of a queen. Ray rose to his feet as she approached, walking with a slightly arthritic gait. She touched his arm with her claw-like hand, and an inexpressibly soothing feeling passed between them, giving him comfort. He looked deep into her eyes, and saw nothing there but kindness. When she let go of him, he felt the same woe and aching sympathy he had before. Ray understood the respect Rose had for this old woman. She knew how much this hurt. She was hurting for the child, too.
Rose moved away from the head of the bed to make room for her successor and came to stand next to Ray. The old woman sat down beside the girl and raised a forefinger to touch the child’s still hands. There was no burst of magic, no rumble of thunder. The child simply stirred and sat up to look at the old woman. Ray goggled. He didn’t think the girl had the strength to move on her own. It was magic, but was this a good thing? The little girl studied the old woman, with the first expression Ray had seen on her face: curiosity. The old woman just smiled the warm, weary smile. The girl looked into her eyes with total trust on her face. She wore the kind of smile one had when summer vacation is only minutes away, when one is about to be given the treasure one wanted most of anything in the world. Ray felt his throat tighten. He ought to stop this, make the girl back away from that threshold. He could cure her! She had a miracle coming. Why not that?
The old woman leaned over and gathered up the cords of the respirator, the kidney machine, and the monitors. She showed them to the child in the bed. The small hands reached out for them, closed around them so hard the swollen flesh turned pale. Ray cried out and reached for her hands to take the cords away. Rose took his arm firmly and held him back.
With a sudden burst of strength, the girl yanked hard. The plugs flew out of the wall and clattered on the floor. The chattering, burbling, wheezing machines fell silent. The girl’s face became wreathed in a beatific smile, and she settled down on the bed, as limp as she had been before. Her narrow chest rose once, jerkily. It was much harder for her to breathe without help.
“People will come running when they see the monitors have stopped,” Ray cried. His voice sounded as loud as a thunderclap in the room. The girl was dying now. Ray saw blue tinges begin to show around her mouth and fingernails. All he ha
d to do was hurry up and plug in all those machines again, and she would be saved, just as her parents wanted her to be. But he remembered her overwhelming despair that had brought them here. The child drew another labored breath, not as deep as the first. Having seen the chart, and the girl’s resolve not to go on, he didn’t know whether or not he wanted the doctors to come. “They’ll save her!”
“No, they won’t,” Rose said. “They’ll be too busy.”
Before she finished speaking, the lights started to go off all over the floor. Through the partly open door Raymond heard cries from other rooms, and saw the shapes of nurses rushing in every direction in the corridor.
“They won’t get in here in time,” the old woman said, speaking for the first time. “It’s almost over.” Her voice was the soft, dry, gentle whisper of autumn leaves. She smiled at Ray. “You’d better go now.”
Her face blurred in his vision. Ray reached up to wipe the tears away, and she gave him that understanding smile. Her kindness was the last straw. A great, tearing sob burst up from his chest. Rose reached up to pull his head down against her shoulder, and he began to cry like a lost child.
Murmuring to him like a baby, Rose led him out of the hospital room. The voices of the nurses and patients faded out of his hearing like the noises in a dream. He didn’t know how long they walked, but when he finally opened his eyes and wiped his face, they were in front of a bench on the lakeshore. It was full night now. Behind them were the lights and noise of Lake Shore Drive. Before them was the light gray, heaving mass of Lake Michigan. Reaching far out to his right was a tiny, thin row of lights like a diamond necklace. He stared at the lights until they blurred into a wavy line. Rose tucked something into his fingers. He identified it by touch as a handkerchief. He blotted his face with it, still staring out over the lake.
“Sit down, honey,” Rose said, her arm still around his shoulder. Obediently, he plopped down on the bench. She sat beside him, and waited quietly until he spoke.
“Why me?” he asked. “Why me, and not one of your kids? How come you have to train me to go out and save the world, when it’s impossible anyway. I’m wasting my time!”
“Because my kids don’t want to save the world,” Rose said, patiently. “You do. Sometimes the hardest thing in the world is to accept the inevitable. I know it took me years. Ray, you have so many rare talents. You have a heart big enough to care for everybody on Earth, and that’s a quality not to be wasted. I’m glad you want to work with us. What you are doing is worthwhile. Never think it’s not.” She had another handkerchief ready the moment the one he was holding became too soggy. He took it and blew his nose hard.
“I don’t want to do it no more,” he said.
“Anymore,” Rose corrected him automatically. “You know better. You’re an honor student, Raymond.”
Ray turned on her furiously. “Why didn’t you tell me things like that could happen? That hurt. That child was just a baby.”
“But she made the decision for herself,” Rose said. “I did tell you it wasn’t always easy to do this job. She’s not the first one I have met who knew the end was coming and wanted to make it as painless as possible for everyone. Children are almost always more clearheaded than adults are about the really important things. Adults have an overlay of their experience that blurs the truth. Children don’t. She felt the pain outweighed all possible benefits.”
“You don’t know that!” Ray said, turning on her accusingly. “You’re just guessing.”
“I know,” Rose said. “I felt it through the wand, and what’s more, I felt it in my heart. You would, too, if you let yourself. That’s why you’re so angry. You know you couldn’t have changed anything.”
“We could have cured her!”
“No.” Rose looked out across the lake, and her voice sounded very hoarse. “It isn’t what she wanted.”
“Well, no more children are gonna die on my beat,” Ray said, drawing himself up to make the vow. “Hear that, wand?” he instructed the little stick. “We’re going to make them better. All of them.”
“Remember about power corrupting,” Rose warned him. “Free will. That’s where we differ from the autocrats. You can’t go against a child’s choice, even if you think you know better. You won’t be living their life for them. Once you’re through that wall, pfft! You’re gone, and what you did is what they have to deal with. Remember you learn from your clients as much as they learn from you. What that little girl just taught you was a hard lesson in how to die with dignity. Her faith told her that her time here was done, and there was something better on the other side, if only peace and freedom from pain.”
“Don’t you know?” Ray asked.
“No. Of course not. We have no special knowledge. All we can do is hope and believe, just like them.” Rose let her hand flutter up toward heaven. Ray felt so angry he had to look away.
“I have to feel I can do better for them than that,” he said. “Otherwise, I’ll hand you this pencil and go home.”
“Then we’ll try,” Rose said softly. She let the need strings draw them back to the hospital.
O O O
Ray spotted a dark-skinned boy sitting in a wheelchair next to a glass-walled office. The child was listening hard to what was going on inside the room. A man and a woman were talking to a woman in a white lab coat. No, the man was shouting, and the woman was weeping. Rose gave Ray an encouraging nod. Steeling his new resolve, Ray walked over and knelt down next to him.
“Hey, man,” he said. “What’s going on with you?” He tilted his head toward the door.
“They think I have bone cancer,” the child said. “It don’t hurt or nothing, but they say I’ll probably die.” He stuck out a thin leg and pointed to a small patch of mottled flesh on his shin that just looked wrong to Ray. He palmed his small training wand and passed his hand above the place the boy pointed to. The spot radiated prickly cold that made Ray feel queasy. He drew his hand away as fast as he could. The boy watched his face carefully.
“You think so, too?” he asked, trying to look like he didn’t care.
“What do you think?” Ray asked.
“Don’t matter what I think,” the boy sighed. “I just want to get out of here and go home.” He looked into the room, where the man had plopped down on the couch against the wall, and the woman was staring out the window. The doctor sat at her desk with her head bent over her folded hands, talking in a low voice.
“What’s your name, kiddo?” Rose asked.
“Victor,” the boy said.
“Well, Victor, what if I told you I could grant a wish so that would go away?” Ray asked him in a soft voice, nodding toward the boy’s leg.
“You think I’m crazy?” the boy asked, giving him a sharp look.
Ray showed him the small wand. “I’m your fairy godfather. I can fix it if you want. Let me help.”
The boy jerked his head toward Rose. “Who’s she?”
“I’m an apprentice. She’s teaching me to do my stuff right.” Obligingly, Rose drew her long wand out of her purse and showed it to the child. He seemed impressed by the sleight of hand but, when there was no magic instantly forthcoming, let his face go blank again.
“I don’t want anybody practicing on me. If you do it, you do it right,” the boy insisted. He still looked like he didn’t believe in the conversation he was having, but no strand of hope was too thin to hang on to. Inside the office next to him, they were arguing about life and death. His life and death. He could only have been about ten years old.
“I will do it right,” Ray promised. He knelt beside the leg, letting the wand in his hand pull toward the hidden tumor of its own accord. Whatever was in there was big, and it felt horrible. In the room behind him they were talking about biopsies, radiation therapy, and amputation. Give this child health, he thought, putting into the wish everything he had. He tapped the skinny shinbone with his wand, and felt goodness in the pale blue light that poured out. Somewhere in the middle of the
wish the lump stopped feeling hostile and cold. Now it just felt like the rest of the leg. Ray stood up. He’d beaten this one. The child would live and be whole.
The boy looked at him. “That’s all?” he asked. “No lightning bolts?”
“Certainly not,” Rose said, pointing across the hallway to a sign that said “No Smoking—Oxygen In Use.” Victor gave her a grin that showed one and a half adult front teeth.
“We’d better get him down and get a tissue sample,” the doctor said, coming toward the door. The parents followed him. Ray met their eyes and gave them the small smile of a stranger. He casually patted the boy on the shoulder.
“Take it easy, man.” He turned quickly away and strode off. Rose trotted along behind him.
“Who was that?” the mother demanded in a stage whisper as she wheeled her son down the hall.
“My fairy godfather,” the boy said audibly. Ray glanced back over his shoulder, then went on to the next need string.
In the emergency room, a teenaged girl sat on a gurney bed clutching her baby. Both of them were crying. There was something wrong with the way the baby’s left leg was hanging, but every time the emergency room nurse tried to take it to examine, the young mother jerked her child away. The police officer writing in his notebook gave Ray and Rose a warning look as they approached. The fairy godparents backed off enough to listen without being in the line of sight.
“Don’t look at the baby,” Rose whispered. “Look at the mother.”
Ray concentrated, his fingers wrapped around the wand. Rose was right. The need string came from her.
“Look, Miss DuShen,” said the harried-looking woman on the other side of the bed. “Child Welfare only wants to do what’s best for your baby.”
“You can’t take him away!” the girl cried. She was besieged from both sides. “I didn’t hurt him. He fell down the stairs. I told you. He just got past me. The baby gate is broken. He crawled around the mattress I had blocking the door.”
“Put in the fix for her,” Rose said, urgently. “She needs it.”
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