by LaJill Hunt
“O’la!” He called out to his wife.
Olivia turned around and started running when she saw him. She didn’t seem to mind that she was dressed in only a bathrobe and some slippers and neither did he. He swept his wife up into his arms and held her tight.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
“I’m fine. I was worried that they weren’t going to let you get in and come home. Someone said they have the entrance blocked off and people couldn’t get through,” Olivia told him.
“They do. But you know there was no way they were gonna keep me from making sure you were okay,” Walter told her, rubbing the side of her face and kissing her forehead.
“Hey Dad, you know I made sure she was fine,” Micah said, walking up and putting his arm around his father. “I’m glad you’re home though. I figured if anyone was gonna get you here, Frank was.”
Walter turned and nodded at Frank. “Yeah, Frank and his quick thinking got us through.”
“Walter look…Can you believe this?” Olivia pointed at the nearby house which was surrounded by fire trucks and ambulances.
“Is anyone hurt?” Walter asked.
“We don’t know yet,” a pretty, Hispanic girl standing nearby said. There was something very familiar about her, but Walter couldn’t remember where he knew her from.
“They won’t let any of us near the area to find out anything,” a tall black guy added.
“I believe there were two people inside,” a rugged looking white guy told him. “That’s all I know.”
“I believe that’s King’s house!” Another guy, fashionably dressed in blue and white, silk polka dot pajamas and blue slippers announced.
“Who is King?” Micah asked.
“King Burke, the singer from the Hot Boyz?” An attractive, full-figured woman standing with her arm around the tall black guy asked. Seeing the rings on both of their fingers let Walter know they were married.
“The one and only,” Pajama clad nodded.
Walter looked at the small group gathered in his front yard and announced. “I’m going over to make sure no one is injured.”
“Walter, no! Stay right here. What is going over there gonna do? And if someone is hurt, what can you do to help?” Olivia said, grabbing his hand.
He looked down into his wife’s eyes and told her, “Pray for them.”
“I’ll go with you, Dad,” Malachi said.
“No, you stay here with your mother,” Walter gave his son a knowing look.
Walking over to the house with Frank by his side, Walter began praying that no one was injured or even worse, dead. He saw a stretcher being brought around the side of the house with someone on it. The rescue workers were barking orders as the doors of a waiting ambulance were opened and they placed it inside. Walter began walking faster as the sirens wailed and the vehicle drove past them. He made his way over to another waiting ambulance where the doors were open and peeped in.
“Can I help you?” One of the attendants asked.
“I’m here to see if everything…I’m just…I…” Walter stared at all the chaos around him and tried not to become overwhelmed. Firefighters were running, hoses in hand; police officers were roping off the area and calling out instructions.
“Sir, we’re gonna need for you to move back out of this area,” the guy told him as he brushed past him and climbed into the ambulance. “Is he breathing better? What are his stats?”
Walter did what he was asked and back up some, but he angled himself so that he could get a better glimpse inside and see exactly what was going on. He saw a young man, sitting up on a stretcher, his face covered with an oxygen mask.
Another EMS worker who was bandaging the man’s arm said, “Pressure is still elevated but his pulse ox is good. His arm is pretty bad though. We need to transport him.”
The man on the stretcher began shaking his head in disagreement.
“You need to go to the hospital. You’ve inhaled a lot of smoke and your arm is severely burned.”
The man shook his head harder, using his free hand to move the oxygen mask off his face so he could talk. “No… hospital. I’m… fine,” he managed to get out before he started wheezing and coughing.
“We have to take you. You don’t have a choice,” the EMS worker told him, attempting to put the mask back over the man’s face. The man moved his head back and forth and began trying to take the blood pressure cuff off his arm and get up.
“Said…I’m…good.”
Walter took a step forward, thinking that maybe he had inhaled some smoke and it was causing him to hallucinate. He could see Frank moving right behind him as he moved closer and closer. The two EMS workers were both struggling with the man in an effort to get him to calm down and lay back on the stretcher. Walter continued walking toward the vehicle until he was right in full view.
“Sir, please move back,” the EMS worker who had spoken to Walter looked up and yelled, “Move away, NOW!”
Walter and the young man locked eyes and he saw the look of recognition across his face, letting him know that he wasn’t seeing things.
“Officers, please come and get this man out of the way!”
A nearby police officer ran over. “We need you to move out of the way. This area is off limits…”
Walter ignored the officer and continued staring at the man on the stretcher who was now sitting back down and staring back at him. “How? When? What?”
Frank walked closer and was now staring as well. “Bishop, is that…”
The officer asked both men, “Do you know this man?”
Walter turned and nodded his head. “Yes, this is my son!”
“Fine, they are taking him to the hospital. Are you riding with him?” the officer asked.
“NO! NO!” Malachi tried to yell but he began coughing so bad that he started gagging.
Walter just nodded and quickly started climbing into the back of the ambulance, still confused by what was happening.
“I need to accompany the Bishop,” Frank told them.
“Only one person can ride,” the EMS worker said.
“Go get Olivia and Micah. Tell them what’s going on and bring them to the hospital!” Walter yelled just as they closed the doors.
The EMS worker signaled to the driver that they were ready to go. The van jerked and the sirens wailed as they pulled off quickly. Walter was still confused, but now he was more concerned as he watched them not only put the mask back over his son’s face, but grabbing bags of fluids and putting iv’s in his arm. Malachi continued coughing and gasping as he struggled to breathe. His eyes met Walter’s once again before fluttering closed.
“Malachi! Malachi!” Walter called out. Malachi didn’t respond. Tears began forming as he stared at his son’s unmoving body and he began praying like never before.
God, please don’t take my son away from me. I know that I haven’t been the best father and I know that I dropped the ball when it came to a lot of things, especially when it comes to him, but you know that I love Malachi with all of my heart. I am pleading with you right now…cover him… protect him… heal him… save him. His mother needs him, his brother needs him, I need him. Forgive me for not being there when he has needed me. Forgive me for failing him and for failing you. Don’t take him from me, God. He has too much more of your work to do. He has a purpose to fulfill. Spare his life and heal his body. In Jesus’s name, and by his stripes, I declare and decree right now. Amen.
For the first time since he could remember, Walter then did something that even surprised him. He leaned over and touched his son’s forehead and whispered, “I love you, son.”
When they arrived at the hospital, Malachi was whisked away and Walter was told to have a seat in the waiting area and he would be updated on his son’s condition. As he took a seat, he then he realized that he didn’t even have his cell phone with him to reach anyone. He told Frank to bring them to the hospital, but he didn’t even know if they knew what hospital to bring t
hem. He could only imagine how his wife was feeling right about now. Malachi was his mother’s heart and she was probably just as confused as he was about what was happening.
When did Malachi get out? How did he get out? Was he even supposed to be out? Had he escaped? And why was he in that house?
Walter’s thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a wave of people yelling. He looked up to see hospital security, along with a few police officers holding back a small crowd which was starting to gather near the reception area of the emergency room. He began to panic and wondered how people even knew he was there with his son. He hadn’t even given anyone Malachi’s name yet. He quickly turned away, hoping no one would spot him.
“You all need to get back right now! You need to be at least five hundred feet from any hospital entrance or you will be arrested for trespassing,” the hospital security guard’s voice boomed over the crowd. He was a huge guy who looked more like a linebacker for an NFL team.
“Can you just confirm if the woman brought here from the fire is Scorpio?” a man yelled.
“I can’t confirm anything,” the guard said. “What I can confirm is that you need to get out or you will be escorted out in handcuffs.”
“Was King Burke brought here too?” Someone else yelled out. “We were told that he was brought in as well.”
“People please. This is a private matter and I’m sure the families and the hospital will release a statement…” A small, slender police officer standing beside the security guard said loudly, taking a step toward the crowd with his hands placed on his hips as if he was Superman.
“A statement? Are they dead?”
“So they are here!”
“Families only make statements when people die!”
The officer turned beet red and realized that he made a grave error and started shrinking backwards.
“Get back NOW!” The guard easily moved the police officer aside and stepped forward.
The crowd eased toward the area and slowly dispersed. Walter was relieved that he wasn’t recognized and that they didn’t mention his son at all, but the fact that they suggested that someone had actually died caused him to worry even more.
“Excuse me. They say you are the father of the man they brought in from the fire.”
Walter glanced up to see a woman dressed in blue scrubs. His heart pounded as he waited to hear about Malachi.
“Yes?” He nodded. “That’s my son.”
“I’m Dr. Madison, one of physicians,” she stared at him for a moment and then blinked before she continued. “He’s stable and we are still working on him right now. He did inhale a lot of smoke and he has severe burns on his arm, shoulder and chest.”
“Is he going to be alright?” Walter asked, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes.
“He seems to be a fighter,” Dr. Madison nodded and smiled. “That’s for sure.”
Walter managed a slight grin. “He is definitely that. Can I see him?”
“It’ll be a little while longer. In the meantime, someone from the registration staff will bring some paperwork that needs to be handled. Um, I’m sorry and I may be out of line for asking but…are you Bishop Walter Burke?”
“Yes,” Walter nodded.
“I thought you were. Considering the sensitivity of the situation and the fact that the press is already looming, I think we should have you wait in another area where you’ll have some privacy. Is that okay?” She suggested.
“That’s fine. But…my wife…I’m waiting on her…and my…my other son,” Walter sighed. His mind was racing and he could barely get his thoughts together.
“We can let them know where you are when they get here. Do you know if anyone else is here from the family of the young woman who was brought in right before your son?” The doctor asked, looking past him into the waiting area.
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to anyone else other than you. How is she?”
“I really can’t say. But I would just suggest that you pray for her. You can follow me and I’ll take you where you can have some privacy along with your family when they get here,” she told him.
Just as they were about to head down the hallway, Walter heard his wife’s voice.
“Walter! Walter!”
He turned around and saw Olivia running towards him; Malachi and Frank were right on her heels. She fell into her husband’s arms, tears streaming down her face. Walter rubbed her back, and whispered in her ear in an effort to comfort her. “It’s okay, Ola. It’s okay.”
“What happened? I don’t understand. How did he even…”
“Is it really Chi, Dad? Are you sure it’s him?” Micah asked, interrupting his mother’s question with his own.
“Yes, it’s him.”
“Where is he? I want to see him,” Olivia removed herself from his arms and turned to the doctor. “Take me to my son!”
“Olivia, you can’t see him just yet. They’re still checking him out. Calm down,” Walter told her.
“Mrs. Burke, your son is stable and the doctors are still with him. As soon as you’re able to see him, I promise I will let you know,” Dr. Madison said.
“If he’s still back there, then where are you going Walter? We need to stay here and wait!” Olivia snapped.
“They are moving us to an area where we can have some privacy that’s all.” Walter put his arm around her.
“That’s good. The press is all over this place. Frank had to figure out how to get us in here. Malachi’s latest adventure lands the family on the front page once again,” Micah shook his head.
“No one even knows that he’s here. The press is here because they think someone named Scorpio was brought here from the fire too,” Walter said as they followed Dr. Madison down the hall.
“The supermodel?” Micah asked.
“I don’t know who she is,” Walter replied.
“Doctor, is he talking about Scorpio the model? Was she hurt in the fire too?” Micah’s voice sounded as if it was an octave higher than normal.
Walter slowed down and turned slightly. “Do you know her?”
“No,” Micah shook his head. “I know OF her. I mean, who doesn’t? She’s one of the biggest supermodels in the world. She used to be married to King Douglas. He owns the house that was on fire.”
“How does Malachi know them?” Walter asked, still trying to piece together how or why his son was even in that house.
“C’mon Dad, you know I don’t know anything about who he knows or why for that matter. Your guess is as good as mine,” Micah shrugged.
“None of that matters right now. I don’t care who, why, or how come! All I care about is making sure my son is taken care of and ALIVE!” Olivia snapped at both of them. No one said anything else as they were led into a small private room which held a sofa and matching chair, along with a meeting table and a telephone. The doctor promised she would be back to update them shortly, and left them to be alone. Immediately, after the door closed, the small four person group grabbed hands and began to pray not only for Malachi, but also for the young woman whom they assumed to be Scorpio.
***
A knock on his office door caused Walter to realize he had fallen asleep.
“Bishop, Mr. Phillips is here to see you,” Brigette, his personal assistant opened the door and stuck her head in.
“Thanks Brigette, you can send him in. Tell Frank he doesn’t need to come in while we’re talking,” Walter sat back up and exhaled loudly.
“Do you need anything? Water, coffee, juice?” Brigette asked. She had been his assistant for nearly eleven years and had mastered the job and everything that came along with it, which wasn’t easy. With his travel schedule, preaching engagements, personal appearances, business meetings, in addition to the occasional counseling sessions when needed, Brigette made sure he maintained a balanced life and had no problem saying NO to anyone, even when he didn’t want to; Walter was never overworked, even when he was stre
tched thin because she knew where to draw the line.
“No, I’m good for now. I’m heading back over to the hospital once this meeting is over.”
“Yes sir. Let me know if I need to handle anything else while you’re gone.”
“Thanks again.”
A few moments later, Jerry Maxwell, Walter’s best friend, walked in and sat down in front of him. Dressed in a red polo shirt, matching baseball cap and a pair of khaki pants, he looked like he had just finished a round on the green with Tiger Woods and popped by to share the story. Jerry and Walter had been friends since grade school. They grew up in the mean streets of Detroit and fought hard to survive. On more than one occasion, they had saved one another’s lives. Their over forty year friendship had been built on survival, brotherhood, and most of all, TRUTH. They had shared so much over the years and next to his wife, Jerry was the only person Walter knew he could count on for anything, anytime, anyplace; or so he thought.
“How is he?” Jerry asked.
“He’s stable. They still have him sedated.
“I saw the fire on the news. He’s lucky to be alive.”
“He is blessed. That’s for sure.”
“How’s Olivia? I’m sure she was about to lose her mind,” Jerry shook his head. “You know how she is when it comes to Malachi.”
“She’s still at the hospital and hasn’t left his side. I’m headed over there in a few,” Walter stared at him.
Jerry leaned forward and nervously rubbed his hands together. Walter could tell his best friend knew something was up. Normally, Jerry was relaxed and laid back. Walter watched as he looked around his massive office at the pictures on the wall, specifically one of Micah and Malachi as young boys, about five years old. It was an Easter photo taken out front of Walter’s first church building. His sons were identically dressed in blue shorts, white shirts and red bow ties. They had long white socks and white Stride Rite dress shoes on their feet; on their faces were the same dimpled smile. It was his favorite picture of the twins.
