“Take your time, Mom,” Evan said, his hands shoved deeply in his pocket.
A photo album was lying open on the nightstand beside the bed. Without thinking, he moved toward the album, reached out and picked up the thick book. There, front and center, was a picture of the three kids and a puppy-sized Maze. Evan couldn’t help but smile at the look of pure happiness on everybody’s face, so oblivious of the danger they would soon encounter. He turned the page and saw several pictures of a very photogenic Maze, panting widely in the Texas sun making him look as if he were grinning for the camera.
Page after page of the three kids and a younger, more vibrant Mom grinned back at him.
“Those were simpler days.” Margo’s voice startled Evan, so engrossed in the memories the pictures were bringing to life.
Evan glanced at his mother then back at the picture of Alik, Meg, Maze, Mom and himself smiling for a timer-set camera. They were all squinting into the bright sunlight, perched on top of the pasture’s fence waving at the camera without a care in the world.
“Yes, they were,” he finally responded.
“No matter what, Evan, we are family.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Margo sighed deeply as she rolled her chair closer to the bedside where Evan towered over her.
“I love my family,” she said softly.
“I do, too.” Evan blinked several times, trying to whisk away the moisture building in his bloodshot eyes.
“I would do it again, Evan.” Margo reached out for his hand encouraging him to sit at the edge of the bed.
The warmth of her hand on his sent unsettling images to Evan’s mind, but his gift of precognition was so hit or miss, he pushed the images away.
Why can’t I have more control over my visions? He scowled at himself for the hundredth time.
“Would you, Mom? Don’t you have any regrets?” If Evan were honest with himself, he would admit a truck-load of regrets.
“None. Everything happened on God’s time, in his way. We enjoyed twelve quiet years, years to prepare for battle, to strengthen our family’s foundation, to solidify us as his soldiers.”
“Do you think he’s still listening to my prayers, or have I slipped too far away?” Evan’s voice was just above a whisper. His eyes were locked on a picture of his mother and him as a little boy making faces into the camera.
“You haven’t slipped too far away. He’s listening. But, as the saying goes, ‘The teacher is always quiet during the test’.”
“I feel so lost, Mom.”
“I know you do.”
“I think I screwed up everything. It’s all my fault.”
“I have every faith you did the best you could with the information you had at the time. No matter what, Evan, you are human. We’re all beautifully fallible and imperfect. Just keep your eyes and heart to heaven, walk in his light and know, even when he’s silent, he’s walking right beside you.”
Evan felt a wave of frustration. “This is just too much, Mom. I can’t do this on my own.”
“You’re not supposed to, Son.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice—that’s the amazing truth he gave us. We always have a choice.”
“You don’t understand,” Evan growled and tossed the album on Theo’s side of the bed.
“I know enough,” Margo nodded slowly, looking ten years older than she should. “I know God gave you a family that loves you. He gave you knowledge and ability. He gave you a conscience and an undeniable need to see that good prevails over evil.”
“Mom, what if I fail?”
“I love you no matter what, Evan Winter. Nothing you could ever say or do would stop me from loving you. Nothing. And if you need to test me on that, go right ahead. I have learned to be a patient woman. I will wait for you.”
Margo raised her hands out to Evan who wanted nothing more than to crawl into her lap and feel her arms around him like he did as a little boy, but he was too big for that.
Instead, he carefully wrapped his arms around his mother and lifted her out of her wheelchair. He sat at the edge of her bed, set her in his lap and curled himself around her, as though shielding her from the darkness around them.
“I’m so sorry for everything. I love you, Mom.”
“I know you are, and I love you more, Evan.”
7 Family Ties
Evan had just finished getting his mother all settled in her room. His exhausted legs carried him to his bedroom where he walked directly to his tall chest of drawers. He opened the second drawer from the top and reached up to grasp something duct taped to the bottom of the drawer above. He sighed deeply with relief when his hand found it right where he’d left it the day before. A quick yank and he freed a hard-shelled, black case designed to hold sunglasses. He popped the case open and stared down at the results of all his hard work at the lab’s workbench.