Chapter 49
While January had started with a bang, it left with little more than a whimper. The weather, their classes, and even the impact of the cold fusion science project on their bank account, all turned out to be much less threatening than Mark, Heather, and Jennifer had foreseen. A lazy mildness, reminiscent of an Indian summer, settled over the entire high plateau region, coloring all the teens’ activities.
Progress on the cold fusion apparatus was slower than expected. Acquisition of materials and the welding, soldering, and gluing of all the components were slowed by the additional requirements imposed by the national science fair. Every plan, measurement, and activity had to be carefully recorded according to the scientific method. The only things the three friends did not record were the special modifications that would allow them to hook in the subspace transmitter.
The teens were thrilled with the outcome from their sales pitch to their dads. Not only had both dads agreed, they were so thrilled they volunteered to fund half the cost.
Heather worked out several modifications to the cold fusion theory that allowed them to design a much smaller and cheaper version of the tank. As she solved each piece of the physics and mathematical puzzle, Jennifer created simulation programs that let them test the design. That finished, Heather and Mark began building it, quickly acquiring a degree of skill with the machine tools that even impressed Heather’s dad. Still, there was plenty of work yet to be done.
All of this would have gone much faster if not for the distraction of having to go to school. For Heather, the week had started no different from most: endless boring assignments, talking between classes with her other school friends, and the challenge of ignoring the annoying Ms. Gorsky.
All that had changed with the arrival of a new boy in her class. Heather found herself attracted to him as soon as she looked into his deep, brown eyes. He was only slightly shorter than Mark, his skin an attractive olive brown that glowed like his personality. And from what she could tell, he liked her right back.
Raul Rodriguez was a cancer survivor, someone who had gone to the ragged edge of the life-and-death boundary, maybe even dipped a toe in on the other side. As Raul told it, largely due to the power of his mother’s prayers, a miracle had happened. God, in all his mercy, had healed Raul of the cancer that had riddled his body, bringing a new happiness to his family and strengthening his mother’s faith in the Lord.
Raul’s doctors had worked to save him through a combination of chemotherapy and radiation before giving up and handing him over to hospice care so he could be comfortable for his last days. After his miraculous recovery, those same doctors had asked Raul’s father for permission to study Raul, in the hope that they could determine the cause of his recovery.
Ernesto Rodriguez had firmly refused, saying that God had healed his son and that was all they needed to know. Heather understood the residual anger Raul’s dad must feel toward the medical community that had failed him, but she still felt that the denial was shortsighted, possibly hurting others who might be helped by understanding Raul’s condition.
Now, having met Raul, she was delighted his light still shone on this world. They had gone out twice already, if you counted a trip to McDonald’s for a Big Mac and fries a date. And now he had asked her to the dance on Thursday night. It was going to be a last-millennium, retro sock hop at the school gymnasium, complete with the girls dressing in skirts and bobby socks while the boys wore jeans, collared shirts, and slicked their hair back with copious amounts of hair gel.
Just thinking about going with Raul to the dance distracted Heather horribly. Already this morning she had been scolded twice by Ms. Gorsky for daydreaming in class. Mark noticed her infatuation, and his snide comments as the class ended added to her annoyance. As he walked by singing “There’s a new kid in town,” Heather elbowed him hard.
“Mark, I’m really not in the mood for your needling.”
“Needling? Me?” The look of wounded innocence on Mark’s face didn’t improve her mood.
“I’m serious.”
Just then Raul walked up to her. “Am I interrupting something?”
Heather smiled. “No. Mark was just leaving.”
“Sure was. I’m sure the reason why will come to me shortly.” Before he could catch another elbow, Mark moved off into the crowd.
Raul did not seem to notice the quip. “So, Heather, are you doing anything over lunch?”
“Well, let’s see. I was planning on eating.”
Raul grinned. “You know that isn’t what I meant. I wanted to ask you to have lunch with me. My folks are going to swing by and will treat at the café.”
“That sounds like fun. I like getting treated, especially when it avoids the school cafeteria.”
“Great. It’s a date then.”
“You’ve got it.”
As Raul turned away, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh—meet us out on the front steps at noon.”
“I’ll be there,” said Heather.
As she turned back toward her next class, she bumped into Mark, who had his hands cupped over his mouth.
“I’ll be there. I’ll be there,” he pretended to yell after Raul.
Although his words were only loud enough for her to hear, Heather felt sudden anger redden her face. She stormed past him, sweeping into the classroom like an ancient pterodactyl swooping down on its prey.
By the time noon approached, Heather had recovered her composure, determined not to let Mark’s teasing get under her skin. Still, she carefully avoided running into him as she made her way down the hall and out onto the front steps of the school. Raul was already there, along with his parents.
“Hi, Heather,” Raul said, stepping forward to take her hand. “This is my mom and dad.”
Mr. Rodriguez was a slender man who looked every bit the scientist that Raul had described, the dark frames on his glasses making the skin on his face appear a lighter shade than Raul’s. Mrs. Rodriguez was a motherly looking woman wearing a floral-patterned dress and leather pumps. Her dark eyes shone with an intensity Heather found disconcerting.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez.”
There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence before Mr. Rodriguez extended his hand. “Very nice to meet you, Heather.”
Mrs. Rodriguez only nodded. “Well, shall we go?”
Heather wasn’t sure why she had the feeling she was less than welcome on this outing, but seeing Raul’s smile eased her discomfort.
As they followed Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez toward the aging green Suburban, Raul leaned in and whispered, “Please be patient. My parents were so protective while I was sick, they’re having trouble adjusting.”
Heather nodded and smiled. She could only imagine the trauma the little family had been through as Raul’s cancer had advanced. If that didn’t leave significant emotional scarring, then she didn’t know what would.
The café the Rodriguez family had picked out turned out to be McDonald’s, something that almost made Heather laugh out loud. She could not imagine her mother referring to Mickey D’s as a café, although, to be fair, it did serve burgers and sodas, pancakes and coffee, and many other things that fell within the realm of typical café fare. Still, it just didn’t seem right to utilize any word of French or even European origin to describe a fast-food joint.
As they settled down in a booth to eat, an awkward silence descended. For once, even Raul seemed reluctant to break the spell, which weighed more heavily upon Heather with each passing minute. Finally, in a desperate attempt to generate some pleasant conversation, her mouth opened of its own accord.
“So, Mrs. Rodriguez. It was so wonderful to hear the story of Raul’s recovery. I found it tremendously inspiring.”
Mrs. Rodriguez turned a stern gaze on Heather. “Really? It is not inspiring. Raul is a miracle from God.”
Heather gulped. Determined to keep Mrs. Rodriguez talking, in the hope that she could break through that icy reserve, she continued. “Yes, it is a miracle. And I think it’s inspiring because his example can give others hope that they can recover in the same miraculous way.”
“Raul did not receive a miracle. He is one. His recovery is not something that others can accomplish through Earthly means. God saw fit to bring Raul to us, immersing him in a second baptism of pain and suffering so that we could observe his recovery. So that we might see how this world’s healing is impotent and know that all true power lies in Him.”
Heather was confused by the intensity of the sudden verbal onslaught. For one thing, the odd manner in which Mrs. Rodriguez spoke almost made it sound as if she were confusing the terms God and Raul.
Heather struggled to recover. “I really didn’t mean to argue with you. I can’t even imagine the pain that you have endured. And I understand why you wouldn’t want to let any doctors study his recovery. At least until you’re ready.”
Mr. Rodriguez banged his fist down on the table with enough force to cause other customers to stare. “Until we are ready? How dare you question us. We will not let anyone poke and prod our son anymore. They had their chance and proved their impotence. We will do nothing to aid them in their quest for self-importance.”
Mrs. Rodriguez leaned forward, her eyes blazing with a zealous light that scared Heather. “It is so easy to be an unbeliever, to walk the path laid at your feet by Satan. But I always knew that God had a plan for my son. Soon everyone will be given a choice—to walk with glory or to burn in the depths of hellfire. Be thankful that He is giving you the chance to become worthy. I, for one, cannot see it within you. Be thankful that His mercy is beyond mine.”
If Heather’s hair could have curled on her head, it would have, as surely as if she had undergone a two-hour perm at the closest beauty salon. She was beyond speechless. She was stupefied.
She glanced at Raul, who stared at her as he lifted a golden French fry to his lips, 12 small grains of salt clinging to its greased, 61.6345-millimeter-long form. Heather felt like some insect, pressed between glass slides, as a giant peered down at her, twisting knobs to adjust the focus of his microscope so that he could determine exactly what made her tick.
When Heather got nervous, she lost focus, and whenever she lost concentration, numbers and equations swirled through her mind in a maddening storm. For 11.857 seconds, nobody said anything.
Miraculously, Raul put down his golden French fry, uneaten, and dispelled the silence with a musical laugh. “Mom. Look at me for a second.”
The woman’s harsh gaze turned toward Raul, and as her eyes met his, a mystical transformation occurred. Her look went beyond love to one of adoration, maybe even worship.
“Mom, I invited Heather because I like her, and I wanted you and Dad to get a chance to meet her. Did you hear what I said? I like her. And I expect you to like her too.”
If he had slapped his mother’s face, her expression could not have been more pained.
“Raul, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You know I would never question your judgment or think to stand in the way of your desires. Please forgive me.”
To Heather’s horror, the woman began to cry, burying her face in her hands, sobs shaking her body. By this time, the people at the nearby tables had not only quit looking at them, most had found a good excuse to move to another part of the restaurant.
Raul rose and walked around the table to his mother, taking her face between his own palms. A look of beatific peace came over the young man’s face.
“Mom, I know you meant only the best. You have protected me for so long that it is hard to stop doing it. But I don’t need protection now. You know that, don’t you?”
Mrs. Rodriguez nodded.
“Good. I am not angry with you. I just want you to be nice to Heather and to like her as I do. Can you do that for me?”
Mrs. Rodriguez nodded more vigorously, achieving a rate of 3.13256 head oscillations per second.
When Raul released her face, Mrs. Rodriguez turned to face Heather, and if it had not been for the wet trails of tears down her face, Heather would have thought she was a different woman, so bright and cheery was the smile warming her features.
“Dear, I am sorry that I gave you such a grilling. I let my overzealous protective instincts cloud my judgment.”
Heather struggled to breathe. “I completely understand. No apology necessary.”
Not only did Heather not understand, she felt almost as if she had once more fallen down that rabbit hole after Alice. A quick glance at Mr. Rodriguez put her farther down that hole. He did not look apologetic, merely pensive, studying her as if deciding what further damage she might do.
Mr. Rodriguez glanced down at his watch. “Well, would you look at the time? If I don’t get you kids back to class, I’ll be answering to your principal.”
With that, he stood and led them like a row of ducklings, first to dump the trash, then out and into the beat-up, old Suburban.
Raul held her hand for the car ride back to school and up onto the steps after getting out of the car. Just before they passed through the door, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek.
“You did great,” he said. “Gotta run to my class, though. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Somehow Heather found her way to her locker and then to physics class with the right books, notebook, and pencil. As the class began, Heather stared at her teacher, Mr. Harold, with no more comprehension than a zombie. Unseeing. Unhearing. Beyond emotional exhaustion.
The frequency of Mr. Harold's vocal-cord variations, the amplitude in decibels of each syllable that escaped his mouth, the fluctuations of the classroom air temperature in degrees Kelvin, all formed numbers and equations that cascaded through her mind like water rushing over Niagara Falls. Heather gave up on following the lecture as the beauty and peace of the mathematics washed her brain clean.