everything would be okay. It was an accident. That was all. Just a bad accident.
Only he knew it wasn’t. He could fool himself for a little while, but that didn’t last long.
Suddenly he felt eyes on him. When he glanced at Jenny, he saw that she was staring at him.
“Joey.”
He didn’t hear her. He watched his name form on her lips. He knew he should walk over to her, but he couldn’t invade that room with his problems. Those people were in there trying to rest, trying to stay strong enough to support someone they cared about who was going through something threatening.
You don’t belong here, he told himself. You need to go. He tried to leave. He honestly did. He willed everything inside him to leave.
Instead, Jenny got up from the chair and walked over to him.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a quiet voice. She pulled her hair from the corner of her mouth and studied him.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“What are you doing here?”
Joey shrugged and hated the reflex action immediately. Shrugging was dumb and immature. But he hadn’t learned what else he was supposed to do.
“Is your mom all right?”
“She’s fine.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I was in the neighborhood, that’s all.”
Jenny glanced at the clock on the wall. “In the neighborhood. At one in the morning?”
The way she said it, her words sounded like an accusation.
“Look,” Joey said, “if this is a bad time-”
“It’s not a bad time.”
“Good. That’s good.” He stared at her, remembering how cute she’d looked out on the dance floor the night of all the weirdness.
“That’s really good.”
She waited.
“So how’s your dad?” he asked.
“The same. Nothing’s changed.”
“He’s gonna be okay,” Joey said automatically.
“How do you know?”
Joey shrugged again before he could stop himself. “I just do.” He was afraid Jenny was going to be mad at him.
“Then you know more than the doctors,” she said.
“Doctors don’t know everything.”
Jenny looked into his eyes. “You want to talk?”
“I don’t know. You feel like talking?”
“Sure.”
“That’s good.” Joey nodded in relief. He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d said no.
“But we can’t talk here,” Jenny said. “People are trying to sleep.”
“Yeah. I see. Want to grab a coffee somewhere?”
“Cafeteria’s closed.”
“We could go out.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to leave the hospital. In case… something changes.”
“Okay.” Joey glanced up and down the hall.
“I know a place we can talk.” Jenny reached out, took him by the hand, and led him down the hall.
Local Time 0124 Hours
“The chapel?” Joey glanced around the room.
“It’s quiet. Usually this time of morning there isn’t anyone here.”
No one occupied the room. Jenny pulled Joey into motion and got him seated in the back row. The light was dim. Joey sat beside her. She didn’t let go of his hand. He was glad for the physical contact, but the sensation made him feel weak and vulnerable, and he hated that.
“So,” Jenny said.
Joey looked at her.
“You just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Jenny prompted.
“Yeah.”
“Want to tell me why you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” Joey thought about it for a moment. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“What’s keeping you awake?”
He thought about his answer for a moment, then shrugged.
“Stuff.”
“Want to talk about that ‘stuff ’?”
“Not really.”
Jenny leaned back in her chair and wrapped herself in the Windbreaker. She closed her eyes and breathed regularly. For a minute Joey thought she’d gone back to sleep.
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” Joey whispered.
“You try talking to your mom about it?”
Joey grimaced. “I’d have to take a number. Besides that, this isn’t something I can talk to my mom about. She’d freak.”
“Then talk to me.”
“I can’t.”
Jenny sighed. “Then don’t talk to me.”
“I’m not trying to make you mad.”
“I’m not getting mad.”
Joey felt even more guilt. “I’m messing this up.”
“Messing what up?”
“I just came down here to spend some time with you. I just… wanted to be with you.” Joey watched her, wondering how she was going to take that.
“I’m glad you did. It gets lonely around here. The nurses all mean well, but being here doesn’t even come close to normal.”
“I don’t think anything is normal anymore.” Joey felt the solid warmth of her hand in his. It felt good. “I’m scared that it never will be again.”
“Me too.”
“My mom’s been talking a lot lately about the Bible. About the end times. I gotta tell you, it’s freaking me out. I mean, Mom always had an interest in church. We didn’t always go, and she didn’t always agree with whatever the pastor was saying, but it was there. Like she knew we were supposed to go. But I didn’t really get anything out of it. I don’t think she did either.”
“I think,” Jenny said, “that if your mom is right, that’s exactly why we were left behind. We didn’t try harder to understand what God had planned for us. I know I didn’t. If I thought about God, it was generally when my dad went on a binge or got hurt or got sick. When I couldn’t take care of him, I asked God to do it for me. I don’t think that’s really a relationship. I mean, if you had a friend who constantly just asked you for things, and all you did was give, you wouldn’t think you had a very good friendship, would you?”
“No.” Guilt ate at Joey. What Jenny was describing wasn’t just his relationship with God. It was a lot like the relationship he’d had lately with his mom and Goose.
“I think that’s what it’s about,” Jenny said. “Your mom says there’s going to be seven more years that we can exist on this world before God comes back. During that time, we’re supposed to figure out our relationship with Him, find ways to get closer to Him.”
“Yeah. But that’s hard.”
