“Tom,” Ellen said. She offered a look that said more than the silence that followed.
“Okay. But we should take Allie home first.”
Reggie moved from his car toward them. “Tom, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I ain’t goin’ home,” Allie said, though Reggie thought every bit of her face said going home was the only thing she really wanted. “I’m goin’ with Leah. She’s got a job, and so do I.”
Reggie tried again. He gently put a hand to Tom’s elbow and guided him away from the rest. “Please, Tom. I don’t think Leah and Allie should go. Barney was frantic when he called. Mabel was unresponsive and barely breathing. I don’t know how this is going to turn out. If it goes wrong, I don’t want children there. It could scar them. You’re a therapist, you have to understand what I’m saying.”
“I do understand, Reverend. And any other time, I would agree with you.” He looked back to Ellen, who had one hand upon Leah’s and the other upon Allie’s. Her eyes were closed. Likely petitioning the Universe, Reggie thought. “But not this time. I can’t be a therapist right now. I owe it to my family.”
Reggie’s mind did its best to sort out the dozens of ways he wanted to reply to such an asinine statement, but there was no time.
“Do what you think right, Tom. But understand that I have a job to do, even if you don’t agree with it. I don’t want any trouble.”
“There won’t be.”
Reggie led the way in his SUV, followed closely by Tom’s truck. He spent the ride praying and listening for (but still not hearing) the Still Small Voice that would tell him everything would be fine. The interstate was sparsely traveled that time of night, making travel faster and the world seem emptier. The hospital glowed beneath a rising full moon just off the first Stanley exit.
Reggie found two empty spaces in the back corner of the first parking lot. The group walked through the automatic doors in silence. Tom spoke with a woman behind a sign that read Information. Allie made her way from Leah to Reggie’s side and took his hand. In those moments when trouble comes, you cling to those you’ve known the longest. The elevator took them to the fourth floor and opened into a maze of hallways and doors.
“This way,” Tom said.
They turned right and followed the sounds of ringing telephones and quiet beeps until the hallway opened into a cavernous waiting room. Barney sat in a vinyl chair along the wall with his face in his hands. His glasses hung loosely between his ring and pinky fingers. He looked up as Reggie approached.
“Rever—” Barney rose but couldn’t finish the word. His voice choked against fear and sadness. Reggie opened his arms to catch him. “I ain’t heard nothin’,” he cried. “I’s just been out here all alone. I been prayin’, but I ain’t hearin’ nothin’ back, Reggie. I ain’t hearin’ a thing.”
“It’s okay, Barney,” Reggie said. He remembered the silence that had followed his own prayers. There was wisdom even in the silence, he reminded himself, however hidden it may be. “Why don’t you sit down and rest.”
He guided Barney down into the chair as a tiny hand reached out and touched the old man’s arm.
“Huh-llo, Mr. Buh-Barney,” Leah whispered.
Barney raised his head—“Oh, thank the Lord”—and wrapped his arms around Leah’s tiny waist. Her arms stretched around him barely past the shoulders and held there. Allie, Tom, and Ellen gathered around them. “Is he with you, Leah? The Rainbow Man? Mabel’s in bad shape. I couldn’t wake her.”
“He’s huh-here, Mr. Buh-Barney.”
Tom said, “Leah, please,” before Reggie could.
Leah’s lip trembled. Her eyes blinked and would not stop, as if something had wedged itself in them. Allie watched her rather than Barney.
“You’ve no word on her yet?” Ellen asked.
Barney shook his head.
The door behind them opened. A young man wearing scrubs and a stethoscope walked through. He studied the room before his eyes settled upon the person who looked most upset.
“Mr. Moore?” he asked.
Barney stood up and said, “Yes.”
“I’m Dr. Cox. May I have a word with you?”
Barney looked at Leah, who was now so upset that she could offer him no help. Reggie put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. He guided Barney to the doctor and announced himself as the Moores’ pastor.
“I’m afraid your wife arrived too late. We suspect she recently contracted a mild form of pneumonia. Given her previous condition and her advanced age, I’m sorry to say there’s little we can do but make her comfortable. She’s resting and somewhat alert. You should go to her.”
The words connected like a punch. Barney swayed to his left. Reggie tried to brace him. Ellen began to cry.
“That ain’t true,” Barney said. He sobbed and shook. Tom left his family’s side and took Barney’s opposite arm. “My Mabel’s gonna be all right. It’s my day.”
“You can come with me,” the doctor said. “I’m very sorry.”
I’m very sorry. Reggie knew what those words meant. Barney’s act of faith had been for nothing. Mabel didn’t need a change of clothes to come home in because she wouldn’t be coming home.
He said, “I’ll go with you, Barney. Come on now. Mabel needs us.”
Barney took two steps after the doctor and stopped. He looked to Ellen and the girls and said, “Please come, Leah? Please bring Him?”
Leah took Allie’s hand and stepped away from Ellen.
“No, Leah,” Reggie said. He turned to Tom. “Please, Tom.”
“I huh-have to guh-go,” Leah said. “I huh-have to, Puh-Pops. Puh-please.”
Dr. Cox regarded Leah and said, “Mr. Moore, I’m afraid time is of the essence.”
Leah’s father nodded.
The doctor showed them to Mabel’s room and closed the door. The bed was surrounded by machines that measured her pulse and offered her liquid comfort—more numbness for the numbness she already felt. Barney swiped at his eyes and sat beside her, took her hand in his own. He brushed the white hair out of her eyes.
“Mabel?” he whispered. “I’s here now, Mabel. Leah’s here with me. She’s brought the Rainbow Man an’ Allie. Reggie’s here too.”
Mabel offered a quiet ahh. Her eyes searched the room and found Barney beside her. She smiled.
Reggie moved to her other side and said, “Hello, Mabel. I’m going to pray for you now, okay?” He took the hand that Barney did not hold.
“Hello, Miss Mabel,” Allie managed. She and Leah remained by the door. Both fought back tears. “I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Leah whispered into Allie’s ear. They crossed the few feet between the closed door and the hospital bed together, Leah in front and Allie a step behind. Reggie’s heart broke at the sight of Allie’s fearful eyes, this little girl whom he’d welcomed into the world only hours after her birth, whom he’d baptized into Christ’s loving arms and played catch with during Bible school, and who now was marooned in the presence of death because of the misguided faith of her friend and the foolishness of that friend’s father.
He turned back to Mabel and the task at hand. “‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.’”
Mabel’s eyes widened. Her mouth gaped open and her head rose. Barney drew back his hand, unsure what was happening, and said, “What’s wrong, Mabel?”
“Ahh,” Mabel said. She reached her hand outward. Her fingers danced in the air. “Ahhhh.”
“‘He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.’”
“Mabel,” Barney said, “I’s right here, Mabel. Right here with you, girl.”
“‘He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.’”
“Mabel?” Barney asked. “Reggie, what’s she doin’?”
Reggie knew, but he would not say. He felt the Presence in the room, flowing all around, shredding the thin veil between one world and the next.
“You huh-hear him, duh-don’t you?�
�� Leah asked. “Duh-don’t you, Muh-Miss Mabel? You huh-hear the R-rainbow M-man’s song.”
“Ahhh.”
Mabel’s shoulders were now above the bed. Barney tried to ease her down. She pushed against him, reaching out, smiling. Laughing.
Reggie closed his eyes to gather himself and then looked at Leah. His voice was calm, yet he could not hide the anger behind his words.
“Please let me pray, Leah. This is no time for folly.”
Leah did not look at him. “You huh-hear it, duh-don’t you, Muh-Miss Mabel? Isn’t it b-beautiful? It’s the muh-most beautiful muh-music ever. It duh-doesn’t even sound like muh-music at all.”
Allie tried to pull Leah away, to reason with her, but the Norcross girl stood firm. Barney tried again to ease Mabel back into the bed, and again he couldn’t. He looked from her to Leah and back, helpless.
Reggie said, “‘He leadeth me in the path of righteousness for his name’s sake.’”
“Do you nuh-know why it sounds so struh-strange, Muh-Miss Mabel? It’s buh-cause his suh-song doesn’t have a buh-beat. There’s no buh-beat, Muh-Miss Mabel.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Leah,” Reggie said. “I’m trying to care for Mabel’s soul.”
“I am tuh-too.”
“Stop it,” Barney said.
Reggie nodded, then realized Barney was looking at him.
“Leave her alone, Reggie. Leah’s takin’ care of this. She’s gonna help Mabel.”
Mabel sat up, her arms trembling, reaching out, as if gathering in a cool rain on a hot day. Tears tumbled down her cheeks.
“There’s no buh-beat, Muh-Miss Mabel. There can only be a buh-beat if there’s tuh-time, and the R-rainbow M-man lives in a place where tuh-time isn’t. There’s no before or luh-later, there’s juh-just now.”
Mabel wept. Her arms went limp and she slumped backward. Barney caught her and gently lowered his wife into bed.
Mabel looked at him with her still-weeping eyes and touched his face—“I love you,” she said—as the bedside monitor wailed an alarm. The light went out of her eyes.
“Mabel?” Barney asked.
He shook her shoulder, trying to wake her as he had all those times before. Allie cried at the foot of the bed. Reggie tried to finish his prayer and found he could not. The door burst open as nurses rushed in. Barney kept shaking, kept telling her to wake up, wake up now Mabel I love you it’s time to go home. He turned to Leah as the world fell down upon him.
“Miss Mabel?” Allie asked. Her face was a mixture of fear and confusion. She took a step away from her friend toward Reggie. “Help her, Leah. Help Miss Mabel get better. Tell him to make her all better, Leah.”
But Leah did not move. Her eyes were forward to the bed. Her throat quivered. In a strange and embarrassing moment Reggie would never confess to anyone, he thought it more important that Leah Norcross was about to throw up than that Mabel had just passed into the next world.
“You said it was all gonna be okay,” Allie cried. “Why’d you lie, Leah? That wasn’t fair.”
Leah’s face fell ashen. Her lips parted to speak and then closed. She swallowed hard and then ran from the room, leaving Allie behind.
Reggie was glad she was gone.
6
Allie just wanted to go home to her momma. She’d never seen anyone die before—had never seen anything die, really, other than bugs and the time her daddy hit a deer on their way to the Longview Mall—and it was just as awful as she’d imagined. Never mind that Miss Mabel was at peace now, like Preacher Goggins said to Mr. Barney after all the nurses left. And never mind that Allie was pretty sure Miss Mabel got a glimpse of the Rainbow Man just before she closed her eyes one last time. Neither of those things mattered. All that mattered was that Allie wanted to go somewhere safe, and she never wanted to look upon the face of Death again.
So when Mr. Doctor and Miss Ellen had said let’s take you home, Allie, she had thought yes, that would be just fine and please hurry. But then in the darkness of the backseat Leah had taken hold of her hand, and Allie knew the stiffness in her friend’s grip was but a mere crumb of the sorrow she owned.
No, she’d told them, I’d really rather not go home. And she’d told them that Miss Mabel was up in heaven right now getting fitted with her crown of jewels and playing that wonderful music and having a grand old time. Allie wasn’t surprised that the two people in the front seat had nothing to say to that. She figured spiritual-but-not-religious folk didn’t hold such things as genuine. But that was okay. She’d said it mostly for Leah anyway.
So they’d driven back to the yellow Victorian, where Miss Ellen had called Marshall and Mary to tell them the news and make sure it was still okay for Allie to stay over. Marshall had given an immediate no but was eventually overruled by Mary, who’d said yes but wanted to talk to Allie first. That had been a trying give-and-take, what with Mary wanting to know how Allie really was while Leah stood right there next to her. They’d exchanged cheery-byes with the promise that Mary would pick her up first thing in the morning. Mr. Doctor offered the girls what Allie knew to be a free head-shrinking session, which was politely declined. It’s hard to talk about a wound right after one is received. Right after, all you can do is feel it.
Allie wasn’t surprised that the decor of Leah’s bedroom was excessively girly, but she was surprised at the size. The room looked bigger than almost Allie’s entire house. Leah’s pictures were taped all over the walls. One of those fancy beds with four wooden poles and a sheet draped over the top rested against the nearest wall. The comforter on the bed was a faded and melancholy yellow, as was the pillow. An armoire that looked like it could lead to Narnia stood against the far wall beside a bare dresser. Leah even had her own desk. Pencils and notebooks were stacked neatly on top, the notebooks in a range of colors that had been sorted into rainbow order. A bowl of thumbtacks sat near. Their bathing suits were still draped over the desk chair dry and unused (they’d never gotten around to their dip in the pool). And there was the easel, sitting in the corner all by itself like some grand mystery.
The two of them sat on the bed for what seemed like hours. Allie watched the shadows cast by the small lamp at Leah’s bedside and listened to the sawing of a thumbnail. She didn’t know what to do or say, so she figured she’d just start with, “How come you didn’t know all that was gonna happen, Leah?”
“What do you muh-mean?”
“All the other stuff that’s happened, you might not’ve known exactly how it’d come to be, but you knew it would. But I saw your face when Preacher Goggins said Mabel’s at the hospital, and then again when we walked into her room. You were scared. And I’m just not sure how you can be scared with the Rainbow Man at your side, singin’ those songs so pretty that they make dyin’ women cry and whatnot. And you lied, Leah. You told Mr. Barney things would be okay now. I don’t know how I’d describe things right now, but I know I wouldn’t say they were okay. So I just want to know how come.”
Leah wouldn’t answer at first, she just kept right on with her thumb. The way she was bent down low with her hair covering her face made Allie think of a fearful child left alone in a dark place. The thing was, Allie didn’t know exactly what her friend was fearing. Was it that the Rainbow Man was keeping some things to himself, or was it something worse? Her thoughts wouldn’t settle long enough to decide. Half of her mind was upon Mabel laughing and reaching out into the air, and the other half kept hearing her momma telling her to be careful now and watch what she believed in that little girl.
“He didn’t tuh-tell me,” Leah whispered. “He didn’t tuh-tell me that was going to huh-happen, and he wuh-won’t say why. Duh-don’t you go disbelieving me nuh-now, Allie. I nuh-know what you’re thuh-thinking. You’re thuh-thinking that maybe thuh-things aren’t what I suh-say they are.”
“Mr. Barney thought you were gonna save her.” Allie’s head bent low as well. Even though her pigtails weren’t enough to cover her face, she thought the shad
ows would hide the tears she grew. “I loved her.”
“The R-rainbow M-man was suh-singing for her to c-come home,” Leah said. “I thuh-thought that meant she’d guh-go back to the Truh-Treasure Chest, but I w-was wrong. I guess her h-home was suh-somewhere else. Do you buh-lieve me, Allie?”
Allie evaded that question by asking one of her own: “Do you think he’s God, Leah? The rainbow man?”
Leah looked up at her. “You suh-say his name duh-different now. You don’t suh-say it like before.”
And maybe that was true. Maybe before the rainbow man was a person, and now he was becoming just an idea.
“Puh-Pops says God isn’t ruh-real. He doesn’t buh-lieve in the Maybe. Muh-Mommy thinks she duh-does, but she duh-doesn’t really. I think buh-lieving is like luh-love. If you buh-lieve in everything, thuh-then it’s like buh-lieving in nuh-nothing at all. I’m not supposed to nuh-know those things, but I duh-do.” Leah let go of her thumb long enough to wipe at her eyes. She pushed back her hair and looked at an empty place on the floor. “But if God’s r-real, then I hope He’s luh-like the Rainbow Man.”
“Well, I say God is real, and I wouldn’t give two nickels to anyone who says else. Even if it’s your daddy, if you don’t mind me sayin’. I just don’t know if the God I believe in is the same one you’re lookin’ at.” Allie looked at the same empty spot. “You look me in the eye, Leah Norcross, and you tell me he’s standin’ right there lookin’ at us.”
Leah did and said he was. “And he’s not luh-looking, he’s smiling.”
“Is Miss Mabel there too?”
“No, she’s huh-home now.”
Allie shook her head. She was willing to accept on faith that God Himself could be standing there in front of her. Anything was possible, and she thought that might be the Maybe that Leah kept citing. Yes, anything was possible. Especially in Mattingly, where one and one sometimes equaled three and where other magic had gone on in the beforetime. Allie wasn’t supposed to discern those things, but she thought that was much like Leah not being supposed to discern that her daddy didn’t believe and her momma just pretended to and that faith was like love. Some things, kids just knew.
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