The miracle
The miracle started in the sky, came down to the ice, tore across the playing field, sacked the quarterback, guided a halfcourtshot into the basket, then slipped across the town, into ravaged blood of the little boy who had leukemia.
“My blood hurts,” the boy would say. The pain was evident in his voice but you could tell he didn’t want you to feel sorry for him. Then he’d perk up, smile, and while nodding like a Mouseketeer he’d add “but that’s okay, since pretty soon I’m gonna get to see Jesus!”
Oh how the nurses loved him.
This confused the miracle, which wasn’t logical and sensible, like you and me. It was more like a very friendly dog. It liked making people happy. It could smell sadness in the same way a bear could smell fear, it could fly across the world as quickly as light, and it could enter anything, anywhere, at any time. But it didn’t control itself. It careened blindly seeking out and destroying misery and hopelessness. It didn’t pick where it went anymore than a heatseeking missile picked its targets, nor did it show any more discrimination while slamming into them.
Around the core of misery, though, swimming around the jagged blood cells that tore against the poor boy’s veins, the miracle could find no center. There was no place to crash into. And so it circled, panicked, round and round in tightening, concentric circles. Where would it land? When would it crash? It was beginning to frighten itself in a vague, indescribable way.
“Ahhh” screamed the boy. “There’s a ball of hot water swimming around my insides!”
They figured he had finally cracked. The chemo had worn him down. It’d been seven years, the poor kid; had it since he was three. All he never knew was a little kick of fire every time his heart beat, doctors poking at him, nurses giving him bits of hard candy he could barely stomach the sight of. Hard to keep up that kind of happy front for your whole life, you know. Eventually you break up.
“Seriously! Ahhhhhhh! My stomach is falling out! It buuurns!!!”
“It’s alright” said the nurse. She turned a little knob that pumped something or other into him. Calm him down. Night-night knob.
“Is it time? Am I gonna get to see Jesus?”
“Uhh,” the nurse was checking a little CRT screen next to his bed. “Nope, don’t think so.”
The miracle sensed an opportunity somewhere directly above where it was. Impatient, it blasted itself several stories too far up, brushing against the throat of a man and curing his 27-day-long case of the hiccups. Then, on its downward arch, made an old woman orgasm for the very first time, while she watching an episode of “Mama’s Family” alongside the bed of her dying husband. She cried and cried. Her husband was touched. All this time he just thought she was waiting for him to hurry up and get it over with.
The boy sighed with relief as it had left his body and then, one second later, let out a yelp so fierce it upset even the nurse. She’d been trained to deal with this kind of thing. Never heard a noise like one before.
“It’s true!” The boy was relishing his horrible pain, the whitehot miracle tearing up his insides like a dentist’s drill slipping through a cheek.
“Ohh, ooh it’s true. I am gonna get to see Jesus.” It was a disgusting thing to see. Disconcerting, sure, but the nurse saw disconcerting things everyday. This little piece of shit was happy. So happy that she hesitated, waited three or four seconds longer than normal to reach over the bed and calmly announce that there was a special code going down in pediatrics, a special code that needed immediate attention. All the while the kid’s smiling from ear to ear. She can hear his insides boiling and the kid’s making noises like he’s jerking off. Goddamn disgusting.
The miracle was spinning faster than it ever had before. So fast that all the things around it were disappearing. Started in the head, got rid of all the gloominess and doubt. Yes, yes you are gonna get to see Jesus tonight. Just you wait. Down through the throat, the organs, the waste products, then all the poisoned blood. It was more than the miracle could take in. It kept spinning and spinning, tighter and tighter circles, its head consuming its tail. Tighter still, shrinking smaller and smaller into a submicroscopic speck of superlight nothingness. Tore a hole through the fabric of everything. Right inside the little boy it crossed the whole goddamn everything.
The boy let out a loud, long moan. Then, right then, he was already with Jesus.
3 notes
·
View notes
Challenge, INDO BOARD Fam! Get outside this weekend and have exceeding amount of fun because life is short and you deserve to have a day well spent. Team rider and Brand Ambassador, shows us what is not easy, but what is possible. Have a great day, Fam! 😊💪🤙🌎✌️Georgette . . #indoboard #balanceboard #fundad #greatdad #strong #handsome #indoboardhero @twardusfitness My kids need to work on their defense 😂 Not sure how many shots I took, but we played at the park for about 45 minutes. Here are 4 of my @indo_board trick shots #familyguy #itstricky . . . . . . . #indoboards #trickshots #trickshot #harlemglobetrotters #buckets #halfcourtshot #dadlife #twinning #hookshot #lefty #lefthanded #tekkers #dudeperfect #challenge #relentless #balanceboardd #hoka #runningshoes #trickshotting #entertainment #viral #playtime #swish #shootersshoot #basketball #ballislife #sctop10 #nba @indoboardisrael @indoboardaus @jamovement https://www.instagram.com/p/B3PlEHEHxzC/?igshid=37jbh2ldwi08
0 notes