Holy: Book 4

Love is Blind

John lived, but just. The doctors told us they almost lost him once, but that, with treatment, he would come out alright. He'd have headaches and problems with memory and motor functions for a while, but should make a full recovery. If he had stayed where he was for even a few seconds longer he wouldn't have been so lucky.

When he woke up the doctor's had to blindfold him and numb his arm where the IV was as he had a panic attack at the sight of it. Apparently they had had practice with extreme phobias of needles. I was allowed in once he'd calmed down enough. Naru had finally gotten his hands on the much protected name of our ghost and was seeing to the details of exorcising it from the hotel.

Nevertheless, it was dark outside and well past ten when I stepped to John's side. Instantly, he turned his head towards me.

"Mai?"

"How'd you know it was me?"

He raised his left hand straight towards me, as though not blindfolded at all, then paused and drew back.

"Don't be creeped out, but...I can smell you. You, um, have a very distinct scent."

I couldn't help but smile. "What are you, a bloodhound?"

"Only in your case."

An awkward silence fell between us. Biting my lip I reached out and took the hand he had reached to me before changing his mind.

"John...I—"

"You don't have to say anything. I know."

I wasn't for people thinking they could read my minds. Maybe it was because Naru tried too often and only succeeded when it would humiliate me. "Oh? And what do you know?"

"Nothing's changed and I don't want it to change. You have Naru, and that's how it's supposed to be. I...never meant for you to find out. I am a priest, after all." He let out a heavy, tired breath. "After this I'll need to head home for a bit. Cleanse myself."

"But you haven't done anything. It's not a sin to, um, like someone."

He smiled, and the expression was just as it ever was with John. Having his eyes blinded by a cloth and tape didn't help in deciphering his thoughts.

"I can't feel that hand, by the way. Are you holding it?"

I let it go as though shocked. Sure enough, it was the one with the IV in. "I'm sorry, I mean, wait, that doesn't work."

I settled for slumping in my chair, blushing several shades of red, and all too glad that John couldn't see.

"I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you," he said.

"Don't be. That dead guy got you into my bed, and Naru's the one that overreacted. He's such a child."

"It..." he turned his head as though to hide, despite the fact that all I could see of his face was the lower half. "Mai..."

I waited. After a long minute passed in silence, I decided I was okay with that and idly took up his hand as I thought of what to say, but so far as I could tell, I just wanted to be with him just in case something came up that I could help with. I thought back to the time I had been in the hospital and he had comforted me and got an idea.

"John, how does one pray to God? Do you need to do anything special, like a ritual or something?"

I thought I saw the hair sticking out from his eye bandage shift and imagined he was rising his eyebrows beneath it.

"All you need is a desire to speak with Him. Then you fold your arms—or your hands—and bow your head and say..." he turned his blind head at the sound of the bed creaking. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just shifting. What's after that?"

"Uh...you open the prayer with, 'Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.' After that you thank Him for any blessings you may have noticed that day—it sets your heart in the right place. Then you can ask anything of Him. Once you're done saying what you feel you need to say, you close with 'in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

I bowed my head over my folded hands as I had seen him do that one time. The white tiled floor felt cold against my knees, as I had slid from my chair to kneel by his bed. My stomach squirmed a bit as I tried to believe I was talking to God—the one who John worked so hard to serve. I tried to think of what to say about the pain I would be causing John, and how sorry I was, but somehow sorry didn't cut it, because what I felt was more than guilt. Maybe it was because I had found that a small part of me loved John too, just a bit beyond friendship. Maybe it was because I feared that. Maybe it was because I was deluding myself to think that.

But God knew all that, didn't he?

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name," I hesitated as I heard John take a sharp breath. I clenched my eyes harder. "Thank you for helping me find John in time. Thank you that he's alive. I...I can't pray as nice as him, but I hope you know I really am grateful. I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to him." A peculiar warm tingle went down my spine, not unlike stepping out into the cold after being in a warm room, except the feeling was anything but cold. "I ask that you please watch over him. He works so hard to serve you and I wish...I wish I could be the one to make him happy, but we all know that isn't going to happen." I thought I might cry. "So, if you're the loving Father he always says you are, is there any chance you could just, you know, spoil him with a crap load of blessings to try and make up for it? You would know better than me on what those could be, but a load of money or a house in the Bahamas wouldn't hurt."

I heard John give a quiet laugh and smiled. I had to wrap this up. My knees were starting to hurt, and I didn't want this to be more awkward than it had to be.

"And if you're okay with it...a family. If you're okay with it, because I don't think you believe marriage and homes to be all that bad, please bless him with a woman who will love him more than air and give him everything I couldn't."

"...in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

I unfolded my hands and looked up at him. Of course, with just his mouth, I couldn't read his expression. Wondering how I could duck out without seeming too rude, I stood and put a hand to the chair as the blood rushed back to my toes.

"Mai?"

"Yeah?"

He reached out his hand, the non-IV-impaled one, and sort of waved it around as though looking for me. A bit confused, I took hold of it.

"I'm still here," I said. "Did you want to scold me for saying 'crap load' to God?"

In answer, he tugged me. He didn't pull too hard, but it was enough to unset my still refilling-blood legs. I caught myself from smashing into him with my free arm, but just as he let go of my other hand so I could better hold myself and ask him: 'what the freaking crap?' his head ducked towards me, and those weird brain cells that help you to kiss somebody in the dark brought his lips to mine.