Savior (29 page)

Twenty-One
—Beyond Infinity to the New Day

It was morning, and sunlight was beginning to burnish the pale blue dawn of a February sky with its vitamin-fortified, Florida orange juice hues. Silence. Then at once the morning sounds of cars and trucks on the nearby Indian River Boulevard. Al rose from bed and walked into the bathroom and examined his face in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot; but he felt deeply rested, as if he'd slept for many hours. He wandered downstairs and turned on the computer in his study and looked at the news. It was February 23, 2010. Nothing about any crack in the sky.

Ricky was in the kitchen. He was drinking a glass of chocolate milk and looking like he was getting ready to go out.

Where are you going? asked Al.

Surfing, said Ricky.

Do you know what day it is today?

No.

Where were you yesterday?

Dad, don't try to make inane conversation. Look at this.

Ricky held up the tablet, the Chocomal.

Where'd you get
that?

I don't know. I found it. Mom would have loved it, don't you think.

Yes. She would have.

It has all that Mayan stuff that
she loved. Are we still going to Guatemala? Didn't you say something about that?

I don't know. I'm thinking about it.

Al started up the coffee maker and, while he waited for it to brew, he went back to the computer and put in a name in the search bar. Sabine DeVries. He thought about hitting enter but thought again, decided to wait, and finally hit the button. Up came a list of items including a web page for a counseling service in Antwerp. There was a photograph, a tiny mugshot of a woman. It was her.

Ricky was standing behind him, looking over his shoulder.

What are you doing, Dad? She looks familiar.

Nothing. Just dawdling. It's Saturday. Ricky did I ever
tell you I love you?

Yeah.

Don't ever forget it.

Dad, I won't. You know I'm not a kid any more.

Do you feel pretty grown up?

I do. I feel like I understand you a lot better. All the stuff you've been through since Mom died.

You've been through a lot, too, Ricky. Maybe we'll go surfing together. Catch some big waves.

Ricky laughed.

He walked over to the counter and refilled his glass with milk. He was still growing, wide shouldered and strong. Al thought it was a shame he wasn't playing football. He could have carried the entire program.

THE END

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