Chapter 2 - The Road That Had Not Been There
Walter expected the miracle to end once he stood.
Instead, the trail remained.
It cut through the desert in a pale winding line, bordered by stones that looked dark and cool despite the afternoon sun. Walter had walked past this part of the basin earlier. He was certain of it. There had been no trail, no bell, no sign of life.
Now Jesus walked beside him as calmly as if they were crossing a churchyard.
Walter carried the half loaf in one hand.
The clay cup never emptied.
He stopped after the third drink and stared into it.
"Is this supposed to frighten me?"
"Does it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because cups don't do that."
Jesus glanced at him.
"Neither do dead hopes. Yet people carry those for years."
Walter frowned.
"Mary used to answer questions like that."
"I know."
The words quieted him.
They walked for several minutes.
Walter's legs should have been failing, yet strength was returning. Not quickly, not dramatically. His knees still ached. His shirt still clung to him. His tongue still felt swollen. But each step became possible because the next one existed.
That, he thought, might be the real miracle.
Not flying.
Not thunder.
One more step.
The bell sounded again.
Walter looked toward the ridge.
"Who is ringing it?"
"A woman named Elena Ruiz."
"Never heard of her."
"She has been ringing that bell every afternoon for eleven days."
"Why?"
"Because her grandson disappeared."
Walter stopped.
Jesus kept walking.
Walter hurried after him.
"Disappeared where?"
"In this desert."
"How old?"
"Sixteen."
Walter's stomach tightened.
"And you want me to help?"
"I want you to decide whether you will."
"There are search teams for that."
"There were. They stopped yesterday."
Walter stared at him.
"Why?"
"They found the boy's backpack near a ravine and assumed the worst."
"And you know something they don't."
Jesus did not answer directly.
Walter's irritation rose.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Ask people to walk without telling them where the road ends."
Jesus looked at him.
"Would you have come if I had shown you everything?"
Walter thought about the demon.
About David.
About Mary.
"No."
"Then perhaps mercy sometimes gives enough light for the next step."
Walter grunted.
"You sound like her too."
"You married a wise woman."
"I married a stubborn woman."
Jesus smiled.
"So did she."
Walter laughed before he could stop himself.
The sound startled him.
He had not laughed with another person since Mary died.
They climbed the ridge.
On the other side lay a small settlement Walter did not recognize. Six houses gathered around an abandoned mission chapel. A rusted water tower leaned against the sky. Pickup trucks stood beneath cottonwoods whose leaves hung tired from drought.
At the center of the settlement, an elderly woman pulled a rope hanging from the chapel bell.
The bell rang.
Then she pulled again.
A few people watched from porches with the weary patience of neighbors who had tried and failed to persuade her to stop.
Jesus and Walter approached.
The woman saw them.
Her hands froze on the rope.
"Mateo?"
Her face collapsed when she realized Walter was not her grandson.
Walter looked away.
Jesus did not.
He walked to her.
"Elena."
She stared at him.
Her lips parted.
Then she dropped the rope.
"Oh."
That was all.
Not "Lord."
Not a prayer.
Just one broken syllable.
Jesus opened his arms.
Elena walked into them and began to cry.
Walter stood several feet away, embarrassed by the intimacy and yet unable to leave.
A younger woman came from one of the houses.
"Abuela?"
She stopped when she saw Jesus.
Behind her, two children appeared in the doorway.
Elena pulled back.
"Where is Mateo?"
Jesus touched her shoulder.
"Alive."
The settlement changed in an instant.
Doors opened.
People came closer.
A man dropped a wrench.
The younger woman covered her mouth.
Walter stared.
"Where?"
Jesus turned toward him.
Walter immediately understood why he had been brought here.
"No."
Elena looked at him.
"No what?"
Walter shook his head.
"I can't."
Jesus said nothing.
Walter became angry.
"You knew."
"Yes."
"You brought me here to send me back into that desert?"
"I brought you here because you know engines, ravines, and dry washes. Mateo's truck is stuck in a canyon less than five miles from where yours failed."
Walter's heart thudded.
"You could just bring him here."
"I could."
"Then why don't you?"
Elena's eyes moved between them.
Walter hated the answer before Jesus gave it.
"Because sometimes the rescue is not only for the person being found."
Walter looked at the people around him.
They were waiting.
He hated being needed.
No.
That wasn't true.
He had built his identity around being needed.
What he hated was the possibility of failing.
"I don't have a truck."
A man stepped forward.
"I do."
"I need rope."
"We have rope."
"Water."
The younger woman lifted two jugs.
"Tools."
The man pointed toward a shed.
Walter looked at Jesus.
"This is manipulation."
Jesus raised an eyebrow.
"You asked for practical reasons."
Walter almost smiled.
Almost.
Elena took his hand.
"Please."
Her fingers were small and rough.
Walter saw Mary in them.
Not her face.
Her courage.
He turned toward the man with the truck.
"What's your name?"
"Rafael."
"Four-wheel drive?"
"Yes."
"Winch?"
"Front and rear."
"Good. Bring a shovel, jack, blankets, and more water than you think we need."
The settlement moved.
Within minutes the truck was loaded.
Walter climbed into the passenger seat.
Then he realized Jesus was not getting in.
"You coming?"
"I'll meet you there."
Walter looked out at five miles of desert.
"Of course you will."
Rafael started the engine.
Elena stood beside the chapel, clutching the bell rope.
Walter rolled down the window.
"Don't ring it yet."
"Why?"
"Save your strength."
"For what?"
Walter surprised himself with the answer.
"For when we bring him back."
Rafael drove.
Dust rose behind them.
Walter looked once in the side mirror.
Jesus stood beside Elena in the middle of the road.
May you like
Then the truck turned.
And he was gone from sight.
