“You’ve got to pray for me,” Timmy whispered to Maryann as soon as Alex left the room. He was still lying on the gurney and she had pulled a sheet over his legs. “Times are dire.”
“Dire?” She was surprised he even knew the word at his age.
But he nodded. “Bad. Real bad.”
“You know I’m not really an angel, don’t you?” She reached under the gurney to find another pillow. “I can pray for you, but I have no special powers.”
Timmy nodded. “It’s just for when my parents come in. Look like you’re praying for me. And do you have a Bible? They never yell when there’s a Bible around.”
She stopped, the pillow still in her hands, to look at the boy. “Your parents don’t hit you, do they?”
She’d only seen the Fields in passing. They must be Christians, if Timmy wanted a Bible. On the other hand, she knew some people took the Bible and twisted what it had to say. She had no idea why Timmy would be so intent on reminding his parents of their faith, unless he was afraid of them.
“They yell a lot,” Timmy admitted. “And my mom cries some.”
“But do they hit you?”
Timmy shook his head. “You’re still going to pray though, aren’t you?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Maryann set the pillow on the end of the gurney where Timmy’s legs didn’t reach. Then she walked over to the drawer where she kept her belongings. She carried a small Bible with her. She’d been going to the church here with her cousin, and re-connecting with her childhood faith. It had been a long time since she had regularly read a Bible like she was doing nowadays. Her turbulent adolescence, as she played referee to her parents’ arguments and subsequent new loves, had caused her to drift far away from God, like it was His fault in some way that she had to endure it. She was glad to be back. Her restored belief centered her; she should have never stopped going to church and praying. Even those bad years would have been better.
She held the white Bible up for Timmy to see. “You can borrow this if you want to read something.”
“Put it in my hands like I’m dead.” Timmy crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.
“I most certainly will not.” Maryann walked back to the gurney with the book in her hand. “Your parents are worried enough as it is.” Then she thought a moment. “Besides, it’s a girl’s Bible. You’d look too sweet in your casket if you were holding it. You could as well be holding a bouquet of lilies.”
“Oh.” Timmy opened his eyes and frowned at the Bible. “I don’t want to hold no girl’s Bible.”
“I didn’t think so,” Maryann said as she laid the Bible beside him. “But it won’t hurt to have it close, just in case. Like you’re alive and reading it. You might try a psalm.”
“Maybe you could put a ninja sticker on it.” Timmy cautiously took hold of the Bible. “Then it’d be okay for boys.” Maryann smiled.
She heard more footsteps on the porch and turned to the door. “I bet that’s your parents.”
Maryann walked over to greet the Fields as they opened the door and stepped inside.
“Where is he?” Mrs. Fields asked breathlessly, even as her eyes came to rest on the gurney. She was a slight woman with a harried expression on her face, and she was wearing a stained sweatshirt. Maryann remembered that there were a couple of children younger than Timmy in the family. They were all due for shots and Alex had them on the list for her to call.
“What kind of a fool thing were you doing, boy?” Mr. Fields asked as he followed his wife into the room. He was overweight and puffing hard, but he zeroed in on Timmy right away. “You know better than taking off like that.”
Maryann saw Timmy’s face crumple in misery.
She stepped back to the gurney. “I was just going to say a prayer for Timmy. Would you both join me?”
“Oh.” Mrs. Fields looked up in surprise.
“I—” Mr. Fields started to say something, then stopped.
Maryann walked closer to Timmy and winked at him. She had a moment’s hesitation. It had been a long time since she’d prayed in public and she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing for her to do now since it was all for show. Of course, it was for Timmy’s benefit and God loved children, so it would likely be all right with Him. She bowed her head and started.
“God of all the beings on earth and in heaven,” she began. She thought Timmy would like that since he seemed preoccupied with death and angels. “Timmy here is hurting, and we ask that you make him comfortable. He feels bad for what he did and he asks You to help him do better next time. Amen.”
“Amen,” the Fields both muttered.
When Maryann opened her eyes, she saw that Timmy had been right. His parents did look subdued. They moved over to their son and each gave him a pat on his head before moving back and looking at Maryann, as though waiting for further direction. She nodded approvingly at them, and smoothed the sheets on the gurney. She heard them walk away from the gurney and stop by the door.
They had started talking to each other, thinking she couldn’t hear them. If everything else hadn’t been so quiet, they would have been right, she admitted to herself.
“You were supposed to be watching him,” Mr. Fields hissed at his wife.
“Me? You should have been watching him,” Mrs. Fields said, her voice low and tense. “It’s not like you’re working anymore. You should at least help with the kids.”
“It’s not my fault I can’t find work. These are hard times and you know it. Besides, you’re his mother. Don’t lay it all on me.”
Maryann looked down at Timmy. He could hear his parents, too, and embarrassment covered his face. She remembered what it felt like when her parents were arguing. If someone outside her family heard them, she’d wanted to disappear.
“The doctor will be here in a minute,” Maryann said in her most professional voice. Maybe the couple wouldn’t know she had heard them. If she was calm enough, she might even fool Timmy. “In fact, I think I hear him now.”
The voices all stopped. And then, as if on cue, Alex walked into the room.
Something inside her applauded. He might be an ice man, but she could count on him to show up when she needed him.
“Doctor,” Mrs. Fields said, looking up and giving him a tight smile, “how is he?”
“Your son will be fine. He’s running a slight fever. Keep him inside and warm. Let me know if he develops a cough or the fever goes higher. But the immediate thing is that he fractured a bone in his right leg. I’m setting up a splint for it now. I just want your signature before I treat him.”
“Can it wait?” Mr. Fields asked with a forced smile on his face. “Don’t bones sometimes heal by themselves?”
“Wait?” Alex looked taken aback. “I’m afraid not in this case.”
Mrs. Fields stepped closer. “How much will it be, doctor?” She kept shifting the handle on her purse from one side to the other. “I get paid next week, but—”
“We’ll pay our bill somehow,” Mr. Fields finished for her. His face was red with embarrassment. “We might need to wait until our Permanent Fund checks come. I lost my