MARIEL

7 ~Father~

'Dear Diary, I have no good way to begin. I haven't journaled in such a long time with how busy life has been. What's it been, two years? Either way, a lot has changed. I am getting inducted as a priest this Sunday, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I adopted a son from Russia this week. I love him so much! There was a strange and horribly frightening experience that happened this week, however. A suicidal man tried to kill my son, but Mariel caught the bullet in his hand?! If anyone reads this, they will believe I am a madman. Maybe I am. But I saw it. I saw my son catch that bullet and defend himself, then drop it like nothing happened. I want to discuss it with the hierarchy, but I am afraid they will consider me crazy. After overcoming the shock of what I had experienced, I took time to pray that God would give me answers. I am obviously a spiritual man who believes in spiritual things, but what I saw is unlike anything I have ever seen or thought I would ever experience. What would allow an infant to do such a thing? Only a powerful spiritual force could allow such a thing. But the question remains...good? Or bad?'

The phone rang in the kitchen. Jerome glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand and slipped out wearily out of bed. What could possibly be so important at 6:01am? Quickly, he shuffled down the hall, praying that Mariel would not wake up and enter another screaming fit. For the first time that night, he had almost wondered if the critics had been correct: that maybe he was too old to be a father.

He picked up the phone. "This is Jerome."

"Jerome. Hey, hi, I'm sorry to call you so early. It's Todd."

"No problem, Todd, everything alright?"

"Yes. No. I meant, no, it's not. I don't know, I need someone to talk to."

Jerome shifted the phone to the other ear. "Go ahead. Did you reach your destination alright?"

"No, we didn't. We're still in Chicago. Mary gave birth prematurely to our daughter. Jerome, can I come over please? I'm sorry." The man's voice broke.

"No, it's fine! Please do! Some coffee will be waiting for you when you get here. Drive safely."

"Thank you, Father. I'll be over shortly."

Jerome returned the phone, puzzled and concerned for Todd, but appreciative of Todd's reference to him as 'Father'. The term would be properly used this Sunday, but it felt to him like the deal was sealed even more now with its early usage.

Jerome prepared the coffee and waited.

Todd arrived within 30 minutes, disheveled, pale, and red-eyed. "Thanks for having me over," he said softly, coming in and sitting down abruptly on the couch.

Jerome brought two cups of coffee into the living room and sat in his lounge chair across from the weary young man. "Tell me what's going on. What happened?"

Todd recounted every detail of the prior night and morning. He was crying by the time he finished, and Jerome abandoned his chair to sit beside Todd.

"I'm a horrible human being," the man sobbed. "I know I am going to hell for this."

Jerome grasped Todd's shoulders and firmly stared at his face. "If you go to hell, it wouldn't be for this. It would be for doubting God's grace and forgiveness."

Abruptly, Todd stopped crying and hung his head low. "I'm sorry."

"Listen to me. Your daughter lived. Your wife is alive. What do you think that means for you, Todd? Your family has such a purpose, and so do you."

Todd wiped the mucus from his nose with his shirt. "My daughter... that was a miracle. They thought she was dead."

What Mariel did was a miracle too...

Jerome smiled at him. "God's grace."

Was it though?

He continued. "Yes, many people were hurt today, but that could have happened to anyone in this weather. Would you like to pray with me for them?"

Todd nodded, and both men bent their heads.

The clock over the fireplace ticked loudly, trees rustled, and the freezing winds howled in the darkness outside over the murmur of prayers. In the other room, Mariel lay with his eyes open. Two figures stood over him. He would never remember looking upon them with quiet curiosity and silent terror.