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.
“No.” Tyler stepped up. “Shelly and the Waynes are gone. I guess the doctors are finishing up paperwork. We can take him home.” Together the four of them had only Tyler’s car. “We could come back and get you later.”
“I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I can meet you downstairs.” She took Sami’s hand. “Is that okay?”
“Of course.” Sami looked beat, too. They all did. She and Tyler hugged Mary Catherine again. Longer this time. Then they left for the elevator.
Mary Catherine had spotted a small chapel just down the hall. She didn’t want to interrupt Shamika’s time with her son, and she hardly wanted to be with Marcus after seeing him with Shelly earlier. Not tonight. Not when she couldn’t get a grip on her emotions.
She waited until Tyler and Sami were gone, then she headed toward the chapel. It was right across from the elevators. She went inside and found it empty.
The room was small and dimly lit. Just eight pews and a wooden cross at the front. Mary Catherine sat in one of the middle pews, dropped to her knees, and brought her hands to her face. She prayed for Jalen and for his mother and for the future of the youth center. She prayed the shooter would be caught and that progress would someday be made on the streets of inner-city Los Angeles.
Not until she had talked to God about all that did she pray for the thing that was weighing most heavily on her heart. Her words came in quiet whispers. “I let myself start to fall for Marcus, Lord . . . and that was a mistake. I’m sorry. That’s not the life You want for me. You’ve made that clear. So protect my fragile heart, God. Please. When I see Marcus let me see him as a brother. Only that. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
She lifted her head and gasped.
Sitting across the narrow aisle from her was a police officer. Big and blond, his hat in his hands. He looked at her and nodded politely. “Sorry to startle you. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Is something . . . did Jalen . . . ?”
“No. The boy is still with us. Your prayers matter, Mary Catherine. Keep praying.”
“I will.” She sniffed and squinted at him, trying to make out the name on his badge. “Have I met you? At the center?”
“No.” He put his hat back on his head. “I’m Officer Jag. I’m not from around here, but I was there when the shooting happened. I wanted to update you.”
Mary Catherine felt her heart beat faster. “Did they catch him? The shooter?”
“They did. Dwayne Davis is behind bars, which is where he’ll stay. But the girl . . . she’s very young. She still has a chance.”
“What girl?” Mary Catherine turned in the pew so she could see the man better. He had the most unusual eyes. Like a hundred colors in one. And a peace seemed to emanate from him. Maybe because of his uniform. She wasn’t sure.
“The girl is Lexy Jones. Dwayne’s girlfriend. She’s been heading down a dark path.” The officer clearly had more to say. He glanced at the back door of the chapel as if he were in a hurry. “Anyway, Marcus asked about the Scared Straight program.”
That was true. Mary Catherine knew about that. “He was told it didn’t work that well.”
“We have another program now. It’s newer. More involved. It’s called Last Time In. Kids get a tour of the jail, the inmates tell them the truth about being incarcerated. Then they get four weeks of counseling—three times a week. It’s intense, but it can work.”
Mary Catherine nodded. She liked the idea. “Did you tell Marcus?”
“I can’t stay. I’m hoping you might tell him.”
“Okay.” Mary Catherine had just asked God for a break from Marcus. Now this. “Is the program available here?”
“It’s in place, but they need a grant to continue. Ten thousand dollars.” Officer Jag stood and moved out of the pew into the aisle. He held his hand out to Mary Catherine. “If you could tell Marcus, I’d appreciate it.”
“I will.” Mary Catherine stood and shook the man’s hand. As she did, the connection worked its way instantly to her soul. Like there was power in his touch. Their eyes met and held and Mary Catherine had the strangest feeling. Like she was on holy ground.
“About your prayers. Just remember . . . God knows better than we do. He always does. Even when it doesn’t make sense.” He looked to the door again. “Keep praying.”
His bright eyes held hers and then he left.
Questions pelted Mary Catherine’s soul. How had the officer known she was here? And how did he know she was a friend of Marcus’s? How did he know her name? She had no answers. The nurse at the desk must’ve seen her come this way and told him. And maybe the nurses also knew who she had come with and that they were here with Marcus.
What other explanation was there?
Mainly the officer wanted her to tell Marcus about the Last Time In program. The idea sounded amazing. Certainly kids like Lexy Jones weren’t going to stay away from gangs and violence just because a youth center opened in their neighborhood. They needed something more.
If the program needed money, Mary Catherine could fund it. She had an account her parents had set up. Money they pu
t aside for her every year as a birthday gift. She didn’t need it, so she hadn’t touched it. When the time came to use it, she could only justify using it to help someone else.
This would be a perfect reason.
Now she had to tell Marcus. She didn’t want to talk to him today. In light of Jalen’s life-threatening injuries and the terrifying shooting, the news could wait. At least until tomorrow.
But who was Marcus supposed to talk to about the program? Officer Jag said he wasn’t from around here, so then who was the contact? Mary Catherine hurried out of the chapel and stared down the hallway. The man had been gone for less than a minute.
So where was he?
She walked as quickly as she could to the nurses’ station. The woman sitting behind the desk was the same one who had been there before. “Hi . . . Officer Jag came into the chapel to talk to me. Can you tell me where he went?”
The woman blinked. “Officer Jag?”
“Yes. He’s tall, blond hair. Light eyes.” She could see the woman wasn’t tracking with her. “He must’ve come by here.”
“There hasn’t been an officer on this floor. Not for an hour at least.”
Frustration rattled Mary Catherine’s nerves. “He was just here.” She pointed down the hall toward the chapel. “He left from right there.”
“I’m sorry, miss.” The woman looked indignant. “I told you. I haven’t seen an officer. Certainly no one by that description.” She paused. “What did you say his name was?”
“Officer Jag.” She realized that she hadn’t gotten a full name. “He said he wasn’t from around . . .” Mary Catherine felt her shoulders sink. “Never mind.”
She jogged down the hallway toward the chapel and kept going to where it dead-ended. There was no way out. The only direction the officer could’ve left was right past the nurses’ station. Mary Catherine headed that way. This time the woman at the nurses’ station was buried in paperwork.
That had to be it. The nurse had been too busy to notice the man.
A sigh made its way through Mary Catherine and she walked to the elevator. Her friends would be ready to go. On her way to the emergency room, Mary Catherine remembered Officer Jag’s words about prayer. God knows better than we do. He always does. Even when it doesn’t make sense.
That was what the man had said, right? Clearly, he had to have been talking about Jalen. The little boy needed everyone praying, everyone believing. Good that the officer was a man of faith.
The city needed more like him, wherever he was from.
She reached Marcus’s room. He was sitting up now, getting instructions and paperwork from a nurse. Tyler and Sami were waiting near the door.
Marcus looked at her. “How is he?”
“Not good.” She stayed by the door with her friends. “He needs a miracle.”
The ride home was quiet. Marcus sat in the front with Tyler, and the two of them did most of the talking. “Police came in when you guys were gone.” Marcus leaned his head against the seat. He looked exhausted. “They have the shooter in custody. His girlfriend, too.”
“Good.” Tyler didn’t hesitate. “Makes me think they should arrest everyone in both gangs. Run their rap sheets. Figure out what new crimes they’re linked to.” He glanced at Marcus, his hand tight on the steering wheel. “Maybe then the younger guys wouldn’t be so quick to join.”
Mary Catherine stayed silent in the backseat. She looked out the window and thought about Shamika, spending the night at her son’s side. The conversation in the car faded and Mary Catherine lifted her eyes to the stars overhead.
God could do this, of course. He could give them a miracle for Jalen.
Now she could only pray that He would.
JAG STOOD NEXT to Aspyn on the opposite side of the child’s bed, invisible. Aspyn was ready to fight—just like Jag. She wanted to see the mission succeed and she wanted justice.
“Earth is so difficult . . . full of pain.” She held her hand over the boy’s head. “Jesus, heal him. Let him live.”
Jag loved the heart of his teammate. She was a very great example to him, especially after tonight. “My anger . . . I nearly lost it.”
She turned and stared at him. “Dwayne Davis?”
“Yes.” Jag still felt ashamed. The feel of the trigger beneath his finger would stay with him always. “I could’ve killed that boy. I wanted to.”
No matter what, they had to be honest with each other. Aspyn faced him. “Why didn’t you?”
“I’m an angel. I want to do God’s will. The name of Jesus reminded me.”
Aspyn exhaled, relieved. “Who said it?”
“Lexy. The girl.” He straightened himself, empowered, convinced that his perfect God was with him even in his imperfection. “God used her to get my attention. Just in time.”
“She needs help.” Aspyn’s tone was heavy. She looked at Jalen again. “So many pieces of this mission. We can’t miss a moment.”
That had never been more true. “I spoke to Mary Catherine in the chapel.”
“Do you think she has an idea? Who you are?”
“No.” He felt another reason for regret. “I wasn’t as careful with Dwayne. The guys on the streets think I’m some monster cop. I need to be careful.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve talked to the Father about it.”
“Then you are forgiven.” Aspyn took hold of his hand for a moment. “Let this go.” She moved closer to the bed and studied the child. “The hardest thing about earth is that love is not enough. It’s never enough.”
Jag let her words settle in his soul. He shook his head. “Love is always enough, Aspyn. But there are different kinds of love.”
“True.” She checked the monitors surrounding the boy. “The child is fading. We need to pray.”
And so for the rest of the evening they begged God for a miracle, asking that He intervene in Jalen’s body and that He give doctors wisdom beyond their abilities. Most of all they asked that Jalen be surrounded by love. Not the earthly sort of love that could so easily fail.
But heaven’s love.
A love that would always be enough.
15
MARCUS WAS IN THE middle of an upper body workout in his home gym the next morning when he received the text from Mary Catherine. He hadn’t known what to say to her last night, how to bring up the fact that he hadn’t asked Shelly Wayne to come to the hospital.
None of it mattered compared to the shooting. He’d gotten word from Officer Kent an hour earlier that Jalen had survived the night. He was still on life support. Still critical.
Now Marcus looked at his phone. The text said simply, Can we meet this morning? If you’re feeling up to it? I need to talk to you about something related to the shooting.
Marcus had no idea what she wanted to talk about. He only knew that he wanted to see her. More than he wanted to do anything else today. He moved his fingers across his phone. Definitely. I’d like that. How about eleven o’clock at the Silver Lake Whole Foods. They’ve got great coffee.
Her response took a few minutes. Great. See you then.
The last thing he wanted was to finish his workout. He was out of danger, barring infection, but his leg throbbed. He couldn’t run for a week, but otherwise he’d be fine. The bullet had only grazed him. Aspyn, the woman from the neighborhood, had saved his life.
Last night at the hospital Officer Kent had come by and Marcus had brought up the woman’s name. “She pushed me out of the way before the guy fired. Almost like she knew what was going to happen.”
“I saw the whole thing.” The officer shook his head. “Like she had some sort of advance warning.”
“Did you check her out? I mean . . . I guess I wondered if she knew something.”
“She’s not from the area. No record of her in any of the searches. But we don’t think she wa
s involved.”
Marcus picked up a pair of fifty-pound dumbbells. Good that Aspyn wasn’t working for a gang. But how had she known to push him out of the way? And how come she hadn’t been hit? The whole night still didn’t add up, but none of it mattered. Not compared with Jalen’s struggle to live.
He pushed through his routine for another thirty minutes and then showered and shaved. If this were a different situation, he would’ve been thrilled at the chance to have coffee with Mary Catherine. But today would be different; he could feel it. Different from how things had been the other night when they walked around his neighborhood.
The incident with Shelly last night had changed things.
Mary Catherine’s text had more of a businesslike feel. She was keeping her distance. Not that he blamed her. He really needed to call Shelly and let her know things weren’t working out. The difficult part was Coach Wayne. His coach was also his friend, and the last thing Marcus wanted was to hurt the man’s niece.
The whole situation was complicated.
He got ready faster than he expected and found a booth at Whole Foods a few minutes earlier than eleven. A baseball cap low on his brow would keep people from recognizing him—something that was rarely a problem. He was six-three and built like an athlete. But in a city like Los Angeles, Marcus didn’t stand out unless he was in uniform.
Five minutes later he watched Mary Catherine arrive and he felt a little dizzy. The girl had captured his attention and maybe even his heart. No matter how poorly last night had gone, no matter how sad everyone was, he couldn’t put into words how great it was to see Mary Catherine now.
She spotted him and as she approached she seemed to do her best to avoid a hug. They walked together to the coffee bar, poured their drinks, and then returned to the booth. “I heard from Shamika on the way in.” Mary Catherine took the spot opposite him. “No change for Jalen.”
“No.” Marcus leaned his forearms on the table and waited. The fact that the child had taken the bullet intended for him was still more than he could bear. He stared at his drink and after a long moment he took a sip.
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