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“Paul?”
Paul’s head jerked. Both Feniker and his mother were staring at him. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at nothing for at least a full minute,” Feniker said.
“I … I don’t believe it.” Paul said.
His mother chuckled. “It is almost too good to be true.” She gave a more nervous chuckle. “But I’d like to believe it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I know you’re healed. I … “
Paul stared at her for another long moment.
“What is it, son?” She was trying to encourage him, but he couldn’t wrap his head around a single thought.
“I just didn’t want you to be in pain anymore.” Paul stepped up to her. He realized tears were falling down his face, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. “I thought you were dying, but it would be OK because you weren’t hurting.”
“I don’t think I’m going anywhere, at least not because of cancer; right, Doctor?” Mary looked at Feniker.
The man shrugged in a gesture that looked like a poor wire-frame coat hanger had just buckled under the weight of a pea coat. “Apparently, you’re as healthy as anyone could ask to be.”
His mother took his hands. “See … I’m fine. I’m fine!” She had to have been, her grip actually cut off some circulation.
Paul didn’t care, he was trying to articulate thoughts he was still trying to understand himself. “I know. it’s just so much more than I asked for, more than I’ve been asking for.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“That night, when you got real sick, I ended up in the hospital religious area. That’s why it took a while for anyone to find me. I was just … I just didn’t want you to hurt. I couldn’t imagine you dealing with this pain anymore.” Paul was rambling, but his mother just nodded as he spoke. “I told God it was OK if he took you. I told him he could do whatever he wanted. I had to admit he can do whatever he wants. I just begged him to end your pain. I thought I was praying for your death to be peaceful.”
His mother’s smile grew wider by the moment. She practically leaped up and flung her arms around him. “Oh, son! He always gives us more than we deserve, and it’s almost always more than we could have hopped for.”
A strange sound drew Paul’s attention to Feniker. It sounded like he’d burned himself, or maybe a teapot somewhere had just started to come to a boil.
“Is something wrong?” Paul asked. The man’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to point as his chin.
“I’m certainly glad you’re OK, Ms. Autumn, but I highly doubt some being just wiped the cancer from your body.” He sounded legitimately angry.
Paul gently pulled himself away from his mother, who sat down, and walked over to the MRI negatives. “Then where’d it go? And how?”
“Like I said, the treatment must have been even more effective.” Feniker actually raised his voice. Why was he so mad?
“So how often has it worked this well? Has it worked this well ever? Do you intend to tell other patients about my mom and expect the treatment to have this same effect?” Paul couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Clearly the doctor wanted to defend his treatment, and maybe it did work. Maybe that was the medical cure, but he was every bit as baffled.
“We need to do more tests.” Each word came out like a jab. “When we understand more, I’m quite sure we’ll understand it better and use this treatment to help all of our patients.”
“I’ll be excited to see it,” Paul said. Maybe that was it. Maybe the cure was just groundbreaking. Maybe in five years, brain cancer wouldn’t be nearly as horrifying as it had been. But Paul doubted it, even as he truly hoped it would be the case.
“So what do you need from us?” Mary asked.
Looking at Paul’s mother did something to reset Feinker’s demeanor. Maybe years of bedside manner training kicked in.
“We’ve already run a full set of tests,” he replied. “We’d like to see you once a week, at least for a month, just to see how things develop.”
She nodded.
“Until then, congratulations!” He gave her another smile and turned out of the door. He actually turned in a direction that allowed him to avoid looking at Paul.
Paul chuckled. He couldn’t blame the man. A bit more than a month ago, Paul would have shouted at himself. He looked back at his mother, who stared at him with a face that somehow conveyed equal amounts of joy, wonder, and bewilderment.
“You … you prayed?”
Paul laughed. “I’ve been praying since that night. Just for the one thing. And I’ve been reading again.”
“Again? Reading what?”
Paul shrugged. “A little before that night I called the police, back with … him, I … someone gave me a Bible. He’s the one who made me want to think about teleportation. It felt like a challenge, so I read it. But back then it was just like reading any book. I was just doing it to show him I could.”
She nodded as he spoke, letting him drive the conversation.
“I only read it the one time, and after Bill … Mom I was so angry. I’m still angry, but I realize that God has all the power. He can do what he wants, and sure, I can feel however I want about it, but what’s the point of it? I thought he wanted me to hurt and suffer and be angry.”
He took the round chair that Feniker usually used and scooted up in front of her. “But when you were hurting, I just wanted it to stop. I was willing to let you go, and I thought he’d take you like always, but he didn’t.”
She gently used a hand to wipe the tears from his eyes and wrapped him in her arms again.
“I still don’t understand it. I’m just happy!” He gripped her, forcing himself to be gentle. “For now, let’s just go home.”
… to be continued …
M.L.S. Weech 