Conceived Without Sin (52 page)

She heard the sound of screeching tires in the driveway. She sprinted across the house
to the dining room window, and saw the red tail lights of the Honda as it pulled away on Lake Road, picking up speed.

Sam was gone.

+  +  +

In the Eucharistic chapel a town over, Bill looked down at
The Way.
His thumb was next to a passage.

Conversion is a matter of a moment. Sanctification is a work of a lifetime.

10

The tide was high. The storm, in a maelstrom waltz, increased in intensity.

The Miraculous Medal and chain dropped from Buzz's hand onto the wet sand and became tangled in the high dune grass.

Come to the water,
demons sang sweetly.

He took a step toward his jetty. The long walk had begun. In the footprint he left behind, the sand was stained with blood.

Buzz was no longer a cheerful lush.

Don't screw this up. Be a man. There's nothing I hate worse than an incompetent
drunk…

The wind was so loud, he realized that he could barely hear his own thoughts.

That's a relief.

11

After ripping the keys out of the hand of the mystified police chief of Brigantine in the meeting room of the hotel, Mark worked his way up to one-hundred miles an hour in less than three minutes, sirens wailing and lights flashing.

He did the math in his head.

Forty-five minutes at sixty miles
per hour. Twenty-two minutes at one-hundred and twenty miles per hour.

Twenty-two minutes.

Not enough time to reach Buzz.

But enough time for a Rosary and a Divine Mercy Chaplet.

The FBI agent prayed for two intentions.

That he not hurt any drivers, pedestrians, or himself.

That the big strong bull, Buzz Woodward, would pass out before twenty-two minutes was up.

12

The Honda screeched to a halt.
The driver jumped out and ran to the entrance of the building. Sam walked purposefully up the main aisle of Saint Raphaels Church in Bay Village. He had not been in this church before, but it was the one closest to his home.

It was empty. The lights were off, except for a spotlight on the altar. Even in the dim evening light, he could tell that this was one of the ugliest Catholic churches he
had ever seen, with sixties-style colors and odd designs on the walls.

That didn't matter.

He was momentarily dismayed when he didn't spot the red candle.

There's always a red candle. Buzz told me himself.

He walked to the altar and scanned desperately.

It was usually behind the altar!

Is this really a Catholic church?

He wasn't certain. He was losing priceless time.

There it was, flickering,
alone, throwing red shadows on the wall to the side.

Waiting for him. Waiting, for a long, long time.

13

There's that damned kid again! What's he doing out here in weather like this!

He spit and cursed. Buzz was only ten yards from the jetty and the wind almost blew him over when he stopped.

The boy and his creations stood athwart his goal.

The child was standing before a tall sandcastle. It looked
as if it had been crafted in a medieval guildhouse. It was as tall as the boy.

Next to the sandcastle, there was a sculpture of a huge sanddragon, its teeth large, not the least decayed by the ravages of the wind. It hovered over the boy.

The boy was holding a wooden sword, facing the sanddragon. A child's toy. He was oblivious to the gusting wind, which was buffeting Buzz in angry waves.

Hey
kid, what are you doing out here?

He turned and looked up at the adult Buzz.

I could ask you the same thing, Mister.

The boy smiled with his sleepy eyes, then skipped around the dragon, laughing effortlessly, brandishing his sword with glee.

"Get out of my way," Buzz ordered.

The boy ignored him. He sliced the head off the dragon. Buzz's head was hammered with pain.

"Cut that out!" Buzz screamed.
He can't hear me in the wind.
"I'm just going for a swim!"

Liar, liar. Pants on fire!

Still looking away from Buzz, the child thrust his sword into the heart of the dragon. Buzz heard an unearthly wail, far away, beyond the ocean.

The boy stopped. He turned and addressed Buzz with absolute seriousness.

Let me out. Let me in.

"You're crazy!" Buzz screamed, swaying, clamping his hands over his ears.

The king saw the queen's name in the pines, Mister, and He remembers,
he heard the boy say earnestly.

Pines? What pines? What king?
Buzz thought, confused.

The pines we cut up that day. Remember? Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
He lifted his pathetic sword.

I don't remember that,
Buzz lied. His eyes unleashed tears despite himself. He stifled a sob. Only little boys cry.

Come to the water,
a confident voice
called from the jetty, beyond the boy.
Kill the boy. Kill the mirage.

Buzz nodded sagely. It made sense to a madman.

"You're a mirage," Buzz told the boy, having wisened up. "I'll walk right through you. This is not a game. I'm taking the long walk today."

He saw the boy's face show fear. A huge wave came in from the surf, and whispered violently through the boy's legs and the sandcastle. They
were untouched, ghosts. The boy looked down to his feet. He looked up, opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Gotcha, you little weasel."

Buzz took another bloody step forward, leaning into the salty, wet wind.
Little brat.

Buzz sliced through his ghosts, ignoring the sobs of a little boy.

14

Sam stood before the tabernacle, his feet spread shoulder length, his hands together, composing himself
before the King.

He reached up and grasped the Miraculous Medal around his neck.

"Jesus, my friend Buzz is sick and is going to die. He needs your help. I can't go where he is. I know I don't have to be there.

"As you know, I run a business. I have employees who work for me. I tell them what to do, and they do it. I know you have workers everywhere now.

"I ignored you for so long. Now I feel your
heart in Donna. I behold the beauty of your creation in Ellie. I watch your steadfastness in Bill. I marvel at your strength in Mark.

"I don't deserve these friends. I am not worthy for them to even come into my home. I know you will heal Buzz with your word. Thank you.

"I never knew my mother. I'm looking forward to meeting yours. I'm going back to my wife now."

He turned and walked out of the
Church of Saint Raphael the Divine Physician.

+  +  +

Buzz scaled the rocks quickly, falling only once when a large wave crashed over him.

He scraped his forearm on the barnacles. More blood.

He picked his way among the craggy boulders, carefully placing his feet, taking advantage of his low center of gravity, avoiding the green, slippery seaweeds adhering to the surface of the rocks closer to
the water.

Don't look back. The suffering is almost complete.

With the boy behind him, he was feeling better, stronger, more in alignment with the vast forces buffeting him.

He was well beyond the waterline now. He stood up fitfully, carefully, on the precipice of a high, jutting boulder, the roiling water on three sides, a body-length away. The wind gusted, and he almost lost his balance, barely
avoiding falling in.

Just fall in. Stretch your hands wide and fall in. Even if you try to swim, you'll never get to the shore. If the rocks and waves don't get you, the booze and freezing water will.

His final instructions understood, he paused to relish the beauty of the torrential scene. He stretched out his arms, and brought his feet together, opening his eyes wide, perhaps for the first time.
Rain fell on him. He opened his mouth, drinking it in for one last time. He allowed himself the luxury of one final wonderment.

Nature's Cathedral, Sam and Donna called it.

Lightning cracked, illuminating the beauty and grandeur of God's fury. Bill White had guessed correctly, for Buzz had gone to church after all.

My life hasn't mattered.

Then Buzz heard a voice, and began to turn to look through
squinting eyes back toward the sand.

That pesky kid is back for certain, determined to spoil everything!

"Gwynny."

It was a strong, clear voice, the voice of a man, and Buzz heard it as if there were no wind, waves, rocks, or thunder.

The man stood on the boulder a yard away, perfectly, beautifully balanced. He was dressed in shining silver armor, the mail immaculately wrought, a gleaming broadsword
in his right hand. He had no helmet. His curly red hair was cropped to his shoulders.

"Who are you?" Buzz shouted. "Are you a ghost? Where's the boy?"

The knight smiled mysteriously.

"Do not lay a hand on the boy. Do not do anything to him. You have come to the water, and the others have been spared by your suffering. Our king saw the name of the queen in the pines."

Buzz blinked in confusion.
He felt weak. He was cold. His heart pounded violently, competing with the hammer blows in his skull. He heard a siren.

He collapsed onto the rock at ocean's edge.

A huge gush of water rushed over the jetty, carrying away many things, but not the body of Buzz Woodward. Red and blue lights formed a second wave.

Mark Johnson rammed his cruiser into a drift, threw open the door, and bolted down the
shore to the jetty.

He scrambled across the rocks to his friend, knelt on one knee and felt for a pulse on Buzz's neck. After a moment, he smiled at the thunder.

"Thank God."

Mark spied another huge wave, building in power and ferocity, speeding toward the jetty.

Tough sonufabitch, aincha?

He lifted him with mighty arms, picked his way back over the rocks, jumping gingerly onto the sand, crushing
a mound that resembled a sandcastle. Buzz's arms swung in the wind.

As Mark walked by, he did not notice the wooden toy sword jammed into another pile of sand that had once been shaped like a dragon.

Chapter Twenty-Two

1

Not long afterwards, there was a video on the seat of Buzz's empty car.
Song of Bernadette.
They would all watch it later, after the party.

Inside, Sam listened to Donna sing. Friends were with him. Bill. Mark and Maggie with their new son. Even Edward, still the atheist, was here, in God's cathedral.

Sam stood up. He reached for Ellie's hand. She squeezed tight, holding on.
She would never let go. He looked at Buzz, who nodded.

The homily and baptism were over.

It was time. Sam Fisk began to pray with his friends:

"We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and of all things seen and unseen…"

2

A summer evening. Low tide. A breeze came off the ocean. Ellie stood on the jetty, holding the hand of a child. Her blond hair glistened in
the setting rays. The two men kept an eye on the mother and son from the deck.

"You know, Sam, throughout those horrible days, I never lost my faith in God. I deserved to die on that night you and Mark saved my life. You see, my sin wasn't taking that drink in O'Donnells. My sin was choosing madness over the sanity of the cross. When I went to confession, that's what I told the priest–that I cut
down the cross. There's a difference between losing your faith and despair."

Buzz sighed, then took a sip of water.

"I sure wish Donna was here. I wish I could find that Miraculous Medal I dropped in the sand. I wish that Jenny would love me. I wish for a lot of things.

"I don't drink anymore, but my heart is still heavy. I suspect there's no cure for the kind of soul I've got. Maybe there is.
Now when I read Sirach, I take him seriously. When I pray the Rosary, I can picture Mary in my head, and the snake is gone. That's a good thing. I'm willing to wait for heaven. Besides, I'll always have the man in the electrical socket."

Buzz laughed.

Sam nodded knowingly.

He had waited too, before faith came. Things always came to Sam.

"I'm gonna be okay, Sam. When I look at you and Ellie and
little Christopher, and think about Donna, and see how happy you are–well, that's enough for me. That's got to be enough. Friendship is the best kind of love. I know that now. Thanks for giving me a second chance. I guess you got one, too.

"I know why I'm here. I'm here to cut things down. I read once about Saint Boniface cutting down this big oak tree the barbarians worshiped. There was a big
crowd. He hacked it down. He turned to them and said, 'Where's your god now?' Man, I loved that. I'm sure me and Bonnie would have gotten along just fine. Just fine.

"But there's always a choice. You gotta watch where you swing that ax. I just hope I never try to cut down the cross again."

The beautiful woman came off the jetty, carrying her child. She called out. Buzz and Sam stepped off the
deck onto the warm sand. They walked toward the water to meet her.

Epilogue

Jesus entered Capernaum. There was a centurion who had a servant whom he valued highly. This servant was sick and about to die.

The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and heal his servant.

When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly, "This man deserves to have you do this because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue."

So
Jesus went with them.

He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him, "Lord, don't trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you.

"But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me.

"I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes;
and that one, 'Come,' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it."

When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at the centurion, and said, turning to the following crowd:

"I tell you, I have not seen greater faith in all of Israel."

Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.