Chasing Sunsets (14 page)

“The punishment you’re about to receive, you have earned.” Jag kept the gun trained on the kid. “But it is nothing to what will come after this life.” Jag was within his bounds now. Eternal truths, life-altering messages—these were the job of angels.

Dwayne glared at him. He grabbed Lexy by her hair and held her close.

Before Jag could speak again, three police cars pulled up from different directions and skidded to a stop, their bright
lights on Dwayne’s car. Six of them jumped out, guns drawn.

Jag was invisible by then, the gun on the ground where he had been standing. He moved, unnoticed, to a place where the shadows were dark and the lights of the police cars could not reach. And like that he was gone.

Immediately he was at the hospital, in the room where surgeons frantically worked on little Jalen. Aspyn stood nearby, praying. Constantly praying. Jag took his place beside her.

He closed his eyes.

That was close back there. He could still feel the gun in his hand, feel the strange and powerful desire to kill. His anger had nearly consumed him.
I’m sorry, Father. I was wrong.
He would need to be more careful. Another moment like that could jeopardize the entire mission.

Jag closed his eyes. Prayer. That’s what he needed. More time in prayer. He could not work successfully as an Angel Walking unless he stayed connected to God. His breathing slowed down and a deep peace came over him. He blinked his eyes open and stared at the injured child lying on the operating table. Yes, he would pray. For the child fighting for his life a few feet away and for himself.

That human rage would never consume him again.

14

O
N THE WAY TO
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Mary Catherine sat in the back and prayed. Tyler was behind the wheel, Sami in the passenger seat beside him. The car stayed quiet except for the occasional sound of a whispered prayer. Mary Catherine stared out the window. How could this have happened?

Of course the youth center was in a dangerous part of town. But none of them ever really thought the gangs would shoot at them. Why would they? Marcus was only trying to help.

They turned into the parking lot and found a spot near the emergency room entrance. The ambulances were still there, parked close to the doors. Mary Catherine squeezed her eyes shut.
Dear God, be with that child. Please.

Tyler hurried out of the car and around to Sami’s door and then Mary Catherine’s.

“Is the bullet still in Marcus’s leg?” Mary Catherine hadn’t
wanted to ask until now. She had seen the blood on his jeans before the paramedics took him.

“I couldn’t tell.” Tyler looked pale, worried. “I hope not.”

Inside they checked in at the front desk and explained they were there for Marcus.

“Come on back. He already has visitors, but we’re slow tonight.” The nurse opened a set of double doors and met them on the other side. “Can’t believe those gangs. Trying to kill Marcus Dillinger? Guy only wanted to do something good for the city.”

Mary Catherine trailed after the group. Where was the little boy? Where was Jalen? Was he in one of the rooms with the curtains drawn?

Her heart ached at the thought. Precious little child. He had only wanted to help bring in the pizza. She fought back tears as they walked. They reached Marcus’s room and stepped in.

The Wayne family was already there, including Shelly. She was sitting next to Marcus’s bed, running her hand along his arm.

“Hey.” He seemed to shake off Shelly’s touch. He looked at Tyler and Sami and then held Mary Catherine’s gaze. The fear in his eyes was tangible. “Any word on Jalen?”

“We came here first.” Tyler reached out and clasped Marcus’s hand.

“I’m fine.” His mouth sounded dry. “I need to know about that boy. The nurse won’t tell me.”

Shelly slid her chair closer to his bed and ran her hand over his hair. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

“He’s not okay.” Marcus shot her a harsh look.

Shelly’s sad smile didn’t waver. She moved her hand to his shoulder. Meanwhile Coach Wayne and his wife were talking quietly, whispering a few feet away.

Mary Catherine felt out of place. The cold, shrinking feeling deep inside her could only be jealousy. Which she hated. She focused her attention on Marcus’s injured leg.

He lay stretched out on the bed, one leg of his jeans cut off. The bandage was halfway up his thigh and, if the wrap was any indication, the wound was serious. He had an IV in his arm, and he looked tired.

Sami looked at Marcus’s leg. “Did they get the bullet out?”

“It didn’t go in. Just grazed me.”

“Poor baby.” Shelly was on her feet, hanging over the side of the bed like she wanted to crawl up next to Marcus.

Mary Catherine had seen enough. “I’m going to go find Jalen’s mother. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Out in the hall she found the nurses’ station and asked how to get to the pediatric ICU. “Take the elevator to the fourth floor.” The woman hesitated. “Other than parents, patients are only allowed one visitor at a time.”

“Thank you.” Mary Catherine was already on her way to the elevator. At the fourth floor she walked quietly to the nurses’ station, but before she could ask, she saw Jalen’s mother in the hallway outside one of the rooms. She was sitting on a chair, her head in her hands.

Mary Catherine approached and took the seat beside her. “Shamika. It’s Mary Catherine. From the youth center.” She put her arm around Shamika’s shoulders. “How is he?”

The woman lifted her head. Her eyes, which had shone
with hope earlier today, were swollen from crying and dark with fear and defeat. “How did this happen?”

She wasn’t looking for answers, so Mary Catherine let the moment pass. “Is he in surgery?”

“Yes.” She sniffed and brushed the backs of her hands beneath her eyes. “They have to remove part of his skull. Because his brain was swelling.” She shook her head, bewildered. “They have to get the bullet out. It went from his head into his neck.”

Mary Catherine didn’t want to ask any more questions. Especially when Shamika probably didn’t have answers. Like whether the boy would walk again or how much damage had been done to his brain or his spine . . . or if the doctors even expected him to live.

All of it was one minute at a time. Mary Catherine took her arm from Shamika’s shoulders and reached for the woman’s hands. “Can I pray with you?”

“Would it matter?” She probably wasn’t trying to be rude or difficult. Her question didn’t sound cynical. “I mean it. God could’ve protected my boy from that bullet. Why pray now?”

Mary Catherine had spent a great deal of time on this issue. She had done a summer of Bible study on the power of prayer and the reasons bad things happen in the first place. She kept her tone even. “I’m not sure anyone knows exactly why certain things happen, but I know this. Evil doesn’t come from God.”

Shamika thought about that for several seconds. Gradually she nodded her head. “I suppose.” She stared at her hands. “But really . . . why did this happen?” Fresh tears began to fall down her cheeks. “He was just being good.”

For a long moment Mary Catherine said nothing.

“I’m serious.” Shamika’s voice was sharper this time. “If you can tell me, then tell me.”

Mary Catherine hadn’t planned on saying anything. She had no real answers. She took a deep breath. “The Bible says this place, this earth . . . it’s broken and fallen. God gives us a way out through Jesus. Even still, every one of us will die someday.” She paused. “This isn’t our home, Shamika.”

She ran her right thumb over her empty left ring finger. “Jalen’s daddy left me when I was six weeks pregnant. I figured if he couldn’t love me, no one could. Not even God.”

Mary Catherine put her hand alongside Shamika’s face. “That’s not true. God loves you so much. He has a plan for you and Jalen and whatever that plan is, it’s good. Even now.”

Confusion lined Shamika’s face. “There’s nothing good about this.”

“No.” Mary Catherine felt frustrated with herself. She wasn’t helping at all. “Of course not.”

“So what does it mean?” Shamika’s eyes filled with tears again. “God loves us. He has plans for us. But here we are, sitting in this hospital while Jalen fights for every breath.”

There were no simple answers. “I only know that God is great. If we choose Him, then one day we’ll have eternity together. No more tears, no sorrow, no pain. No shooting or gang violence. No lonely nights. Never again.”

Her tears came harder. “I just want my baby back. I want him to live and laugh and be . . . like he was three hours ago.”

Mary Catherine took hold of Shamika’s hands once more. “Then let’s pray. Let’s ask God for that.”

“Okay.” Shamika looked like a little girl, desperate and
lost. She took tight hold of Mary Catherine’s fingers. “Please . . . go ahead.”

Mary Catherine nodded. “Dear God . . .” Tears flooded her eyes and fell onto her lap. The little boy had been so happy, so trusting that all of life would stay the way it had been in that moment. Filled with love and joy and fun. She tried to find the words. “Lord, we don’t understand evil or why things like this happen. But we need Your help to get through it.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. “Father, we ask You for a miracle for Jalen. That he would live and laugh and that he would one day soon be just like he was a few hours ago. We ask this in Jesus’ powerful name, amen.”

When she finished praying she hugged Shamika. “Let me give you my number. So you can update me on how he’s doing.”

They exchanged information and Shamika was just starting to explain how Jalen’s birthday was coming up in a few weeks when the doctor opened the door at the end of the hallway and walked toward them.

His face was taut, his expression deeply concerned. “We’ve done what we can. We removed the bullet. He’s resting now.”

Shamika stood. “Is he . . . breathing on his own?”

“No.” The doctor looked troubled. “He’s on life support.” He paused. “I have to be honest, Mrs. Johnson, Jalen may not make it through the night. He’s a fighter, but the damage . . . it’s considerable.”

Quiet sobs came over Shamika. Mary Catherine stood next to her and turned her eyes to the doctor. “Will you bring him back here?”

“Yes. In a few minutes.” He put his hand on Shamika’s
arm. “He’s unconscious. Once he’s back in his room, you can talk to him. He may be able to hear you.”

Mary Catherine helped Shamika into the room and again her tears came. The woman covered her face with her hands, stifling her sobs. “Not my boy, God . . . please . . . bring him back to me. I can’t do this.”

Shamika didn’t seem to be able to move at all. Not toward the room or toward Mary Catherine. Not at all. Mary Catherine prayed silently.
God, give her peace and strength. Help her be strong for her little boy. Show us You’re here. Please.

Gradually Mary Catherine felt the woman beside her start to relax. After a while the doctor brought Jalen back to the room. He looked so small, lost in the sheets and bandages, tubes and wires. Mary Catherine stayed by Shamika as she took up her place beside her son.

“I’m scared,” Shamika whispered. She lowered her hands from her face. Jalen’s head was fully wrapped and he had a breathing tube in his throat and mouth.

Shamika put her hand on Jalen’s much smaller one. “Baby, it’s Mama.” She hung her head and grabbed a few quick breaths, clearly fighting for control. When she lifted her head, she studied her boy and then brushed her knuckles softly against his cheeks. “Mama’s here. Jesus too, baby. It’s gonna be okay.” She wiped her tears with her free hand. “You keep fighting, Jalen. You’re gonna be stronger for this.” She looked back at Mary Catherine and the smallest flicker of hope flashed in her eyes. Then she turned back to Jalen. “We’ll both be stronger.”

The door to the room opened and an older nurse poked her head in. “Mary Catherine?”

“Yes?” She turned to the woman.

“Your friends are out here. They want to talk to you.”

Mary Catherine hugged Shamika again. “Want me to stay? I will. I can call in to work tomorrow.”

“That’s okay. I wanna be alone with my baby.”

“I understand.” Mary Catherine searched Shamika’s face. “Call me or text me if you need anything. We’ll get everyone to pray for Jalen, all right?”

“Yes.” She managed the slightest smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re not alone.”

Shamika nodded and turned to Jalen again. “I’ll be here. Until he opens his eyes and talks to me again.”

That was all they could ask for. That Shamika might believe enough to expect the impossible. To look for a miracle.

Mary Catherine stepped out of the room. Tyler and Sami were waiting for her. Sami hugged her first. “How is he?”

“Fighting.” She blinked back a wave of tears. “The doctor said it doesn’t look good.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and pressed it to her eyes. “We have to pray for a miracle. We need to believe.”

“Poor little guy.” Tyler put his arm around Sami.

Sami sighed. “We all prayed in Marcus’s room.”

Mary Catherine didn’t want to think about Marcus. “Is he staying overnight?” Spending time with Shamika had been good for her. She hadn’t once pictured Shelly sitting next to Marcus earlier, or the way the scene had jabbed at her heart.