by Shawn Inmon
Vivian stood up, too, but Cyrus said, “Hold on a minute, Vivian.”
She sat back down.
Bob left and shut the door to the office behind him.
“Vivian, you’ve worked here for four years now. I know you, I know what kind of person you are. But this is a mystery, isn’t it? The people who were there saw your little boy walk up to a man who was either dead or dying and lay his hand on him. A minute later, he was up walking around, right as rain.”
“Cyrus, you know people believe a lot of silly things.” She smiled. “Heck, people believe the Falcons are going to play good football this year.”
The joke sailed high and wide.
“Have you ever noticed anything strange or unusual about your son?”
“Of course not,” she shot back. Any trace of a smile instantly gone. “He’s just a little boy.”
Cyrus leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and nodded thoughtfully.
“Fair enough, Vivian. That’ll be all.”
A WEEK WENT BY, THEN a month. A good month, in which Nathaniel produced no further miracles. He didn’t turn his white milk into chocolate, nor did he walk across the municipal swimming pool when Vivian took him. She hoped that the “Miracle of Pup” would fade from everyone’s mind.
That seemed to be the case until one evening in early August, when Cyrus Creech showed up on the porch of Vivian’s small rental house. She was finishing dinner when the knock came on the door.
She opened it to find Cyrus dressed much more casually than normal, in a pair of khakis and a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up, revealing thin, white arms.
Over Cyrus’s shoulder, Vivian could see his late model Cadillac parked at the curb.
“Sorry to bother you at home, Vivian, but I just got back from Little Rock.”
Vivian nodded. “Yes, sir, that’s no problem.”
Cyrus, his wife, and little boy had been making increasingly frequent trips to the Children’s Hospital in Little Rock, but Vivian wasn’t sure why.
Cyrus wrung his hands. “I know you’re cooking dinner. It smells delicious. I hate to bother you, but could I come in for just a moment?”
Vivian stepped back and opened the door wide. “Of course, come in. Is Mrs. Creech with you?” Vivian asked, looking out toward the Cadillac.
“No, she’s with Byron,” Cyrus said, stepping across the threshold. He looked down at the floor, nervous about his errand. When he met Vivian’s eyes, he looked as if he was in pain. “I really do hate to bother you, but it’s important. Can we sit down?”
“Of course. Here, please take a seat on the sofa. I’ll be right back, I just need to check on dinner. We’re having meatloaf, which isn’t Nathaniel’s favorite, so he won’t mind dinner being put back a bit.” She glanced down at Nathaniel, who was looking at a picture book in the middle of the floor. “Nathaniel, put away your book, and say hello to Mr. Creech.”
Vivian disappeared around the corner to the kitchen, and Nathaniel did as he was told, closing his favorite picture book, which had long-necked dinosaurs on the cover, and sat on the couch next to Cyrus. “Hello.”
He is so sad. I feel the weight of it.
“Hello, Nathaniel.” Cyrus reached out to shake Nathaniel’s hand. “You like dinosaurs, eh?”
Nathaniel nodded and said, “Yes. Crocodiles are almost the same now as they were millions of years ago.”
A small burst of surprised laughter came out of Cyrus. “Yes! That’s right. You’re a smart boy, aren’t you?”
Nathaniel shrugged. “I saw it on a show.” Why do adults think kids are dumb? Just because we don’t talk about something doesn’t mean we don’t know.
Vivian reemerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She sat down in the chair next to the sofa, and said, “Okay, you have my undivided attention.”
Cyrus nodded. “This is very difficult for both Alice and me. We haven’t talked about it with anyone else, because that makes it even more real, but Byron has been a sick little boy for quite a while now. They’re doing everything they can for him up at Children’s Hospital, but today they kept him there.” He paused and looked out the window, at the children running and playing in the street. “We’re afraid he might not get to come home this time.”
“Oh, Cyrus,” Vivian said, scooting forward on the chair. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. Is there something I can do at work to make this any easier for you? Any responsibilities I can take over?”
Cyrus looked at her bleakly for a long moment, as if he wasn’t quite following. “Oh, oh no. We’ve got everything set up at the factory so that it’s running like a finely-tuned machine. No, that’s not it.” He looked up at the old ceiling tiles, stained by years of previous smokers living there. He cleared his throat. “No, what I was wondering is ... Alice and I, that is ... we were wondering if you would mind riding up to Little Rock with us tomorrow, and bringing Nathaniel?”
Vivian sat back in the chair a bit. “What? Why? What in the world would be the purpose of that?”
Cyrus shook his head. “The thing is ... “ His voice lacked strength, and tailed off. “The thing is, when you’re faced with losing something, someone who means the world to you, even a tiny chance seems big. But we’re even running out of tiny chances.”
Vivian leaned forward. “I’m not following what you mean at all.”
“You’re going to make me come out and say it? All right. We’re hoping that Nathaniel could do for Byron what he did for Pup.”
Vivian sat all the way back, surprise etched on her face.
“Oh, Cyrus, you can’t believe all that nonsense, can you?”
“It gets in your head, when you hear about a miracle and you need a miracle yourself. I would do anything if I could take this on myself, but I can’t, and watching our boy slip away is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Vivian shook her head. “There wasn’t a miracle. Nathaniel is just a little boy, and that’s all I want him to be.”
“I know it’s likely that’s all your little boy is, but it would mean everything to Alice and me if you would bring him to visit. Then we can put this out of our minds, and focus on just saying good-bye.”
Vivian cocked her head. She looked at Nathaniel sitting quietly beside Cyrus on the couch. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to be in your position.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, made up her mind.
“All right. We’ll come with you. But you’ve got to agree to just let Nathaniel visit Byron, nothing else. No hoodoo voodoo, no expectations. I sympathize with what you’re going through, I really do. But, my first responsibility is to Nathaniel.”
Cyrus flashed a relieved smile and, nodding, said, “Yes, I understand. Of course you don’t want to expose him to that kind of pressure and expectations. If you’ll just be willing to come with us to the hospital, that’s all I would ask.”
Vivian stood up and reached a hand toward Nathaniel, who hopped down off the couch and held it.
“Alice stayed up in Little Rock, of course, but I’m going to sleep at the house tonight. I’d like to leave for the hospital about 8:00 in the morning. Is that too early?”
Vivian nodded down at Nathaniel. “Eight? God, no. This little man is an early riser. We’re up and at ‘em by six every morning.”
For a brief moment, it looked as though Cyrus was going to hug Vivian, but instead, he just smiled, nodded, and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Chapter Five
It was an uncomfortable ride north to Little Rock. Vivian had packed puzzle books and comics to keep Nathaniel occupied, but conversation between the adults, which normally focused on production schedules, ordering raw materials, and keeping unions away from the workers, lagged. When the unstated aim of the trip was to find out whether a young boy could perform miracles unseen since Biblical times, chatting about lesser things seemed unworthy. And so they drove up Highway 167, past Hardee’s, Kum and Go gas stat
ions, and Waffle House restaurants, mostly in silence.
When they pulled into the parking lot at Children’s Hospital, Vivian turned to Nathaniel in the back seat. “Unbuckle, honey, then we’re going to visit with Mr. Creech’s wife and son. He’s very sick, so I’ll need you to be a big boy.”
Nathaniel unbuckled and stepped out of the cool of the Cadillac into the steamy late summer heat. He took Vivian’s hand as they walked toward the hospital.
Once inside, Vivian’s hand tightened as they followed Cyrus through the maze of corridors, turns, and elevators. His certain pace showed his familiarity with the facilities. Eventually, they stepped out of an elevator on the fourth floor and walked to room 426. At the door to the room, Cyrus held up a hand.
“I haven’t talked to Alice since last night, so I’m going to go in and see how he is first, then I’ll be right back out.”
“Of course,” Vivian said, as Cyrus stepped inside.
Nathaniel looked around the long hallway at the new environment. A green stripe was painted on the wall at his eye level. A nurse’s station stood at the end of the hallway, an array of doors off to each side. Somewhere, the sound of a ventilator whooshed softly.
“I wish he’d have left us downstairs,” Vivian said to no one in particular. “It’s uncomfortable standing in a hallway like this.”
Interesting though. Never seen any place like this. The vibrations are different here. I can feel so many worried, sad people.
Vivian brushed the hair out of Nathaniel’s eyes. “We need to get you a haircut soon, don’t we?”
Nathaniel smiled mischievously and shook his head. His bangs fell back in his eyes once again.
“I swear, when you smile like that, I don’t know if you’re an angel, or a devil.”
Cyrus opened the door and stepped back into the hall. He shook his head and stared at the floor. “I don’t know, Vivian. He did fine overnight, but he’s taken a turn this morning. The doctors ... “
Vivian laid her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t be here.” She came to a sudden decision. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll call Andi, and she’ll come and pick us up. You’ve got enough to worry about without thinking about us, too.”
Cyrus shook his head. “No. Alice still wants to try. I know we’re grasping at straws here, but that’s all we have left.”
Vivian hesitated, but Creech kneeled down, looked Nathaniel in the eye. “You wouldn’t mind just coming in and saying hello to my little boy, would you, Nathaniel?”
Nathaniel’s wide blue eyes grew a tick larger.
Vivian sighed. “Really, this is a time for family.” Cyrus stood back up. “But I understand. Okay, let’s go in.” She looked down at Nathaniel. “Just be quiet in there, okay, honey?”
Nathaniel nodded and took Vivian’s hand.
Inside, the room was mostly dark. The shades were pulled, the overhead light was off. The only source of light in the room was the greenish glow from various monitors and a subdued recessed light over the bed.
Alice and Cyrus Creech stood together in a huddled puddle of misery and worry, looking down at their son. Byron Creech was three years older than Nathaniel. But laying in the hospital bed, he looked like a child heedlessly thrown into a dryer and allowed to shrink.
Alice Creech left Cyrus’s side and reached out to Vivian. Her face was dry, but her eyes shone with tears recently cried. She had once been pretty, but now she was drawn and worry lines were deeply etched around her eyes. “Mrs. Hanrahan?”
Vivian nodded.
“Thank you so much for coming.”
Nathaniel’s head was turning on a swivel, taking in the strange beeps, antiseptic smells, and wires running everywhere. A small picture of Jesus was on the bedside table where Byron and his parents could readily see it.
“And this is Nathaniel, of course,” Alice said. She reached down and lightly touched his head with a sad smile. “He’s a healthy, beautiful boy.”
Vivian took Alice’s hand and held it between her own. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Creech. I can’t even imagine how difficult this is.” She turned and took a step toward the bed and looked down at Byron. He had once been a blond, chubby little boy, but now was bald, with sunken cheeks. Vivian laid a hand on Byron’s leg through the blanket. He didn’t stir.
Nathaniel stared at the boy, but didn’t approach him. Alice and Cyrus stood a few steps back, obviously praying for a miracle they couldn’t imagine, but were doing their best to believe.
A long minute passed in silence, then Nathaniel moved to the head of the bed. He reached his mind out, looking for Byron.
For the first time since they had entered the room, Byron’s eyes opened. He turned his head, so he could see Nathaniel, but his eyes were uninterested. Nathaniel cocked his head and held eye contact with Byron.
There you are. Oh, you are so sick. It’s everywhere in you. It’s killing you, and it is almost done.
He reached a hand out and laid it on Byron’s shoulder.
Byron closed his eyes.
The numbers, flickering on the greenish monitors, were steady and unchanged. There was no opening of the skies, no hallelujah chorus. No anything.
Nathaniel removed his hand and looked up at his mother.
She reached down and picked Nathaniel up. She made her best attempt at a smile, failed miserably, and said, “I really do think it’s best if we just find our own way home, Cyrus. Byron and Alice need you here. I’ll call Andi to come pick us up, then we’ll grab a bite in the cafeteria while we wait for her. Please don’t worry about us.”
Disappointment etched across Cyrus’s face. He had known it was unlikely that Nathaniel could do anything for them, but now that even that slim possibility was gone, he was forced to face the reality of what came next. Cyrus reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and fished out a fifty dollar bill. “Thank you, Vivian. We appreciate that you came all this way. Please give this to whoever gives you a ride, for their time and gas.”
Vivian considered, then took the money. “Not at all necessary, but I’ll give it to her. Thank you.”
She hugged Alice, who she had met for the first time less than five minutes earlier, as if she was a lifelong friend. She reached a hand out for Nathaniel, took a last glance at the quiet form in the bed, and led him out, so the Creeches could be alone.
Six hours later, somewhat worse for the wear, Vivian, Andi, and Nathaniel rolled back into Tubal. It had been a long day, and the longest time he had ever been seat-belted into a backseat. By the time they hit the Tubal city limits, Nathaniel was ready to do something. Anything.
They stopped at the Dairy Queen at the edge of town for chocolate-dipped ice cream cones, using the money Cyrus had given them. They walked across the street to the small park to eat them.
In the end, Vivian burned as much energy as Nathaniel, as she pushed him on the swing and the roundabout.
Finally, she retreated to the bench with Andi and watched Nathaniel chase after a grasshopper. “Doesn’t seem to have affected him, did it?”
“No, he seems like his perfect little Nathaniel self,” Andi answered.
“It’s too bad this whole trip turned out to be a wild goose chase, and it would have been much better to have seen Byron stand up on the bed and do jumping jacks, but...” Vivian chewed the inside of her cheek. “But, I can’t help but wonder. If that had happened, what would have been next? Would word spread about the miracle boy of Tubal? Would reporters and TV trucks have been parked outside our little house?” She shook her head. “I guess I’m glad that God, or fate, or whatever it is that controls this universe let life take its own path.”
“Miracle boy, huh?” Andi squinted into the reddish glow of the setting sun. Nathaniel was running across the field, pretending to fly an imaginary kite. “I don’t know. Looks like every other four-year-old I’ve ever met.”
Chapter Six
Vivian held Nathaniel on her shoulder while she slipped the key into her front door lo
ck and let herself inside. She dropped her keys on the kitchen table and carried Nathaniel into his bedroom. She laid him on his bed, slipped his tenny runners and clothes off, and found his Batman pajamas that he had worn the night before crumpled at the end of his bed.
“Won’t win me Mother of the Year awards,” she said, slipping the PJs over his head, “but I don’t think anyone from the award committee is here in the bedroom at this moment.”
“I like the Batman pajamas. I don’t care if they smell kind of funny.”
Vivian sniffed the PJ tops, then shrugged and helped Nathaniel under the covers.
“’Night, sweet boy.”
“Night Mama. I love you whole tiger, whole world.”
Vivian had no idea where that phrase had come from, but Nathaniel had been saying it as his highest compliment of devotion for months. “Whole tiger, whole world,” she promised, brushing the hair out of his eyes for one final time on the day.
At the door to his room, Vivian paused and said a prayer of thanks for him.
She wandered out into the kitchen, found a half-empty bottle of wine she had opened the weekend before and poured herself a glass. She carried it out into the living room and considered turning the television on, but remembered there was never anything good on Friday nights. Instead, she sat on the couch, kicked her shoes off, and enjoyed the silence.
“I believe I could drift off right now, and not wake up until I hear the pitter patter of his little feet.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a blinking red light on her answering machine. She tried to ignore the light. “It’ll still be there, blinking, in the morning.” She took a long sip of wine and laid her head back. Vivian Hanrahan was not a woman who could let a blinking red light go unchecked, though, even with a little wine in her.
She dropped her feet off the coffee table, walked to the little side table that held her cordless phone and answering machine and pushed the playback button.
“You have one message,” the automated voice said, followed by a beep. Then, a long hiss of static, before Cyrus Creech’s voice came on. “Vivian, Cyrus.” His voice was choked, but exhilarated. “It worked! By God, it worked!” Another long burst of static. “After you left, Byron slept for hours. His vitals didn’t change. But—here’s the miracle—when he woke up, he said he was hungry. Hungry! He hasn’t been hungry in months. The doctor’s going to come look at him again in the morning, but we can see. There’s life in his eyes again. I don’t know how, but that little boy of yours is a walking miracle! Proof of God’s works in our world!”