The Saint of Carleton Estates

"No, they ain't. Miracles don't have a limit. I seem to have a dollar value attached to mine. I dunno what these are, but they ain't miracles!"

The shouting started again, but now the argument was what to call these. This went on until it petered out again.

"When did it happen, Bobby," Emmy asked.

"It's hard to say. But I noticed it for sure after we, uh, split that time ..." Emmy's face fell, blushing and eyes filling. "I needed to talk, but I didn't have no one to talk to. So, I just started talking to my car. And I guess it came out as some kinda small prayer. Just a 'I need some help; how can I be better?' I just kept working it for a while and when I believed in that, I felt better.

"Soon, I'd just talk to myself, reciting little prayers to find my way through the day. It ain't like the hurt was gone, so I kept at it."

Emmy looked on the verge of tears. She had never intended to hurt Bobby so much, but what's done was done.

"And then I noticed little things happening."

"Like what?" Brett asked.

Bobby eyed Coy and Brett. "When I'm driving the carpool, when was the last time we ever hit a red light?"

They thought for a minute. In fact, they could not remember stopping ever when Bobby was driving. Now that he focused on that, Coy realized Bobby's turn with the carpool always got them there early, where as his and Brett's turns driving were lucky to just get them there on time.

"Since I'm helping out my friends get to work on time, it's been nothing but green lights for over a year. It also seems to guide me away from traffic jams, too. Passing lanes open up, or side roads are clear. The straightest possible path and the shortest amount of time."

"You'd be winning NASCAR if you were driving," Brett laughed.

"I can't break the speed limit. That's another thing."

"You're a redneck Jesus," Coy sighed. Even Bobby laughed at that one. That's about as close as they could come to explaining it.

But the laughs stopped when Emmy asked "Can you talk to God?"

Bobby got real stiff, as if the question hurt to hear. He started to answer but stopped, before finally saying "I don't ... I don't know why this is happening to me. I'm grateful for helping Benny. I am," he nodded to the bartender, whose warm smile told Bobby all he needed. "And of course, helping you guys. But I have these things that happen and I don't know why. I would give anything to have it explained to me why this is happening and what I'm supposed to do with this.

"I mean I'm not gonna go on TV and shill the folks out of fifty bucks to have me give them a bag of miracle corn chips." Tears swelled in Bobby's eyes, before leaking down his cheeks.

"But no one is telling me anything."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The revelations in Bobby's trailer had shaken the group to the core. They talked about it more, but really the main points had been tabled and there was no progress to be made, at least on that day.

Their friend was, by his own admission, some kind of divine being, capable of ... trailer park miracles? But what to do about it? Anything?

Obviously, there was need for secrecy here; as they heard the first guests arriving outside Bobby's, they just looked at themselves as if there was an unspoken agreement that this would go no further than those in the room, this would stay with those closest to Bobby.

The party was a success. The reputation of the boys' Estates parties had grown to the point that there were dozens of folks from outside the park who were in attendance. Friends and family of friends were attending and having a good time. The boys, Emmy and Benny were hosting and ensuring things went smoothly, but they were always giving looks on the sly for Bobby - to ensure he was enjoying himself, but mostly just to make sure nothing weird happened.

Bobby, for his part, was not weird at all. Just his usual modest self, more mobile at this party, now that he didn't have to rest up from performing his Walmart miracles. Emmy stayed close to him, chatting. They avoided the uncomfortable topics about themselves, but otherwise, there was a tentative reaching out on both sides. Forgiveness, but reconciliation was not on the table.

A problem that happens with event like this is "more people, more problems", and at this event, that's what happened.

While none of the boys, Emmy or Benny were attached, others attending were, and they brought kids. Kids of a certain age have a nose for trouble, and at Bobby's party, they found it and then some.

While the adults were observing their own issues in the bottom of a red Solo cup and not directly supervising their own, a few kids broke away. Bobby's unit didn't have a game system or other kid-friendly entertainment options, so they played in and around the woods around the Estates area. The Estates management didn't really have a lot of extra funds involved in the upkeep, as you'd expect in a place like that. The old fence behind Bobby's wasn't up for keeping much out from one side or the other, and, kids being kids, a few broke through and went down the embankment behind Bobby's to the now-rain-swollen river.

Later on, once folks had time to ask about the why's and what-for's, they got the details of what actually happened, but Joey Chamberlain, of the 8-year-old Chamberlain identical twins, took a dare and waded into the now-rapidly running river. The increase rains had upped the current and Joey was swept away before he had fully put his weight on the barely-submerged flagstone.

Cries from the boys on shore didn't get much response, as they were down the embankment and the music and conversation at Bobby's was just enough to mute the cries from the streamside. Joey's twin Jimmie went up the embankment, hollering for attention, and then chaos broke out.

Several of the people celebrating at Bobby's charged around the back and all but trampled the wreck of a fence, barreling down the muddy embankment. Joey was barely visible downstream but was in obvious distress.

No one really trains for emergencies like that, so when they happen, there are just a bunch of individual heroics that occur without planning or any regard to consequences. Others in the crowd, a little further back from the front lines, fret and worry enough for everyone else. Some, like Brian Chamberlain, the twins' older brother, ran alongside the banks trying to get down to the boy. Others called 911 to get the authorities involved. There was a general panic in the air, with a lack of focus keeping anyone from looking too closely at anything other than the receding form of the Chamberlain boy.

Bobby and the boys ended up streamside with their own plans. Bobby, being a do-er, rather than a planner, spied the struggling form of Joey and went for it. Brett and Coy didn't say anything, just watching Bobby stroll out onto the water over the rapid shallow part of the stream. Almost everyone else's attention was far downstream. Bobby skimmed along the top of the water, as if it were a puddle in a parking lot, washing over his flip flops. Until he hit the drop off where the water got deep. And then Bobby sank too.

Bobby wasn't a swimmer, and the sudden loss of his footing brought him under the water surface before he buoyed back up. Sputtering and flailing, he flowed where the water wanted him to go, following the course previously charted by Joey. But Bobby, as a bigger man, was buffeted less by the waters than the smaller boy was, and instead of drowning, he found an equilibrium with his head above the surface. Others further down the bank saw Bobby's daring attempt and then they too entered the stream, further ahead and closed on the boy.

The chase lasted about another 100 meters before the shallows rose again and the rescuers were able to pluck Joey from the stream. Bobby himself washed downstream and was able to find some purchase on the stream bed, and walked out against the gentle current to where the lifeless body lay. Brian and the others who had fished out Joey were frantically trying CPR techniques, but there wasn't much to work with. Fifteen minutes had passed since the boy entered the water to when paramedics reached him downstream, but by then, the damage had been done.

Bobby stood on the muddy banks shaken with his heart pounding, gasping and dripping. The limitations of his abilities had once again been shown to him in the clearest way possible - do not exceed your grasp. Yes, he had a limited power of resurrection, but with the fresh reminder of how little power he really had, would he dare try to lay hands on the body of the boy? What if he could do something but messed it up? Could he live with himself or with the results?

He wept softly there, unable to offer more than solace. Despite the somewhat formidable talents in his possession, none would make a difference in the fate of the boy's life.

Those alongside the stream who didn't go to the hospital with the broken body of Joey Chamberlain eventually made their way back to the Estates, all sense of the party doused. The gathering at Bobby's continued, but the somber tone was one of a community dealing with a quiet loss.

The boys, Benny and Emmy tried to comfort Bobby, but there was little they could do. Coy and Brett saw first-hand the miraculous but limited ability of their friend to try and help the young neighbor. They explained it was just as Bobby described, he made it across the surface of the shallow waters, but whether it was a limitation of Bobby's power or of his own belief of his power, the coherence of the water dissolved once it reached a certain depth below him and Bobby sank and was washed downstream.

That night, Bobby was a familiar sight, whispering from his low beach chair and covered with a baja blanket, watching those around him mill about in melancholy and soft voices. Most folks saw him as the sad host to an event where tragedy had struck. But those few who knew him felt the anguish and inner doubt flow from him in waves so strong you could almost feel them like a river's flow.

Emmy gathered him up as he was dozing; he felt so light and frail to her. She helped him into his bed, and lay beside him, holding his frame as it shook with hushed sobs, offering soft kisses to his hands and head. Her warmth beside him kept him grounded at a time when he felt abandoned and lost.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sunday morning, Bobby was gone, a note telling Brett and Coy they'd have to get to work on their own, as Bobby was gonna take some time off. A separate note to Emmy thanked her for her comfort and care, saying that despite what had happened, she was forgiven and needed to forgive herself.

He didn't say where he was going, but noted that he had almost six weeks stored up in leave and had spoken with the foreman to get the time. The boys wondered what kind of powers Bobby used to get so much time off from work, even if it was owed, as the boss was a noted hard-ass regarding leave, and Bobby had become a critical player in the site activities.

Time went on, and the buzz around the tragedy of poor Joey receded from an open grief to a subdued ache. The boys wondered about their friend and hoped that he was faring well in his time off. Only once at Nell's did Coy and Brett talk, in hushed voices, about how tough it would be to be gifted in the manner that their friend was, but still not be able to save an innocent's life. How frustrating would it be to be gifted and yet faced with the limitations of your abilities, despite the best of intentions? They agreed that it was a cruel test of faith, and that had Bobby been a different type of man, a very humbling one. But Bobby was already that humble. So, what was the purpose?

In the last thought on the subject, they agreed that Bobby's humility on the subject was already known among them, and that this lesson, in their own opinion, was overkill.

The ride home that night took much longer than usual, as every traffic light they reached was red and several accidents clogged the roads.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bobby returned from his sojourn, a little after Labor Day, looking thinner, but otherwise much as he had before he left. But there was something very different about him, in the way he held himself and talked. It took a while to really get a finger on what it was.

Of course, the boys asked about how he had been and where he had gone, but Bobby didn't offer much of a response. He was fine, and he had just spent some time alone. He had gone to the cabin of a cousin where he sat and thought about things. The asked him if he got out much at night. He just shook his head. They asked about how he ate. He just said that there was enough. Did he hunt? they asked. Bobby said he found some shrubs with berries, which were quite good but for two or three nights, gave him some very strange dreams about things like desire and temptation. From then on, he ate them in moderation.

All other questions about the trip were politely turned away or made him visibly uncomfortable before he'd ask to change the subject. His friends were just happy to have him back, and kept their questions to themselves.

The worksite foreman may have been the happiest to see Bobby back. There was much work to catch up on and he needed his ace to help him get the project back. Although seemingly slighter in frame, Bobby's work output had increased. He blazed through his projects, and for the first time, was leading teams who he instructed in his methods. Lagging projects were brought up to speed, projects which had been optional 'nice-to-have's were started and completed. From the time he was onsite to the time he left, Bobby was singular of focus and effort. The foreman even joked that if forty days off did this for Bobby, he'd consider giving that for the rest of the knuckleheads on his crew if they could get half of Bobby's work done. The first of Bobby's co-workers who didn't get the joke and tried to ask for the time off was told to 'get the fuck back to work, dumbass.'

The weather turned cool and then cold, with the exception of a few days of Indian Summer, but the worksite moved again, and the boys left Nell's but promised to visit on weekends to stay closer to Emmy and Benny, for they were truly part of 'the boys' now. Twice a month on a Saturday, the boys went to Nell's and had a few. There were more good times, but everyone agreed that Bobby had not quite been the same since the summer. He had turned inwards and was less open. He still joked once in a while, but it was rarer that he was really open. Worried glances were exchanged between them when Bobby's attention was focused elsewhere.

Emmy found herself closer to him, standing beside him and gently brushing against him more frequency as she collected the bill or returned his change. At these times, Bobby came out of his focus, and sweet smiles were exchanged.

On one of those visits, in mid-October, Emmy was waiting for Bobby. Her hair was down, and she was in street clothes, not her usual Nell's outfit. Bobby didn't realize what was happening until she took his hand. "Bobby, you're coming out with me tonight."

"Emmy, I'm here with the boys, we're just gonna ..." he looked at the rest of their smiling faces.

"Get outta here, Bobby. You got this," Brett said, smiling at his friend. "Benny's got us taken care of."

"You all planned this?" Nods and sheepish grins from the gang.

"Let's go Bobby," Emmy dragged him out the door.

After a quiet night of walking along the river, a bite to eat and a quick glass of wine (with an iced tea for Bobby), Emmy grabbed Bobby's hand. "I've got a lot to make up for, a lot of work to make you ever trust ..."

"You ain't gotta do anything, Emmy. I told you already that I forgave you."

"Hush, Bobby." The moist diamonds in her eyes reflected the walkway lanterns along the path. "You ain't gonna make this easy on me, are ya? I ain't been with anyone since that day, Bobby. I'm dying to get laid, but ..." Bobby looked down at the ground, as Emmy steadied herself. "There's only one man I can think of to help me, and I did him wrong."

"I know, Emmy," was all he said, as if it explained everything. Somehow, he knew she had been alone since then. He knew she was tearing herself up daily, hourly, inside over what she did to him. He knew the warmth and love she had for him. He knew all of these things like he knew his name.

"Bobby, what can I do to get you to love me again?"

He put his work-roughened hand to the side of her face and caressed it. He thought for a brief moment. "Belief in yourself. Belief that you're a good person but that you can be better. Faith, in yourself and in us. There's a lot that can be done with that."

What he didn't say, to any of the boys, was that in his time away, he'd had the ability to think. That kind of isolation and lack of distractions makes the mind very powerful. An openness to new ideas, old memories, connections within a life had become clearer, there were more of them and they were easily accessible if he just ... reached out. There were times where these inputs were too much for him and he had to engage in something physical exertion to occupy an otherwise overheating mind. Too many ideas, too many connections. He never fancied himself a deep or big thinker, but this sudden access to dreams and ideas, new and old, was a tool set he hoped he could use for whatever purpose he needed. An insurance policy of some sorts.

Bobby had no way to explain this to the boys, but one of these tools was how he could get an inkling about what people were thinking and how they felt. It wasn't much more than an intuition, and Bobby realized that most folks have this already, call it a 'gut feel'. Bobby's was just a bit more focused and tuned. He didn't even attribute this to his abilities, just a heightened sense of what most people have already.

At that moment, Bobby could feel the conflict coming off of Emmy in waves. The shame and hope for salvation. The love and lust. The dread of loss and the joy of companionship. She was an easy read. There was no point in blaming her for the hurt she had done; she'd been torturing herself for it ever since that day, stuck in her own prison with her mind as the toughest warden imaginable.

The soft kiss was not one of passion, but Emmy melted into him with a fluid need. She breathed through her nose, afraid to break contact. Bobby's eyes were closed, and he held Emmy upright, feeling her losing a battle against gravity.

"Bobby? Can we...?"

"Sure." And they left, heading back to his place, where they shared warmth and each other under a baja blanket. The next morning was spent together, slowly rediscovering the small happiness of two kind people getting together.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was Brett who recommended the boys take a hunting weekend up in the hills. The boys had all learned to hunt when they were younger, but had outgrown it, or so they thought, as they entered into early adulthood. The patterns of a more responsible life led the boys to look to rediscovering a weekend away as a nice diversion.

Beers and food were packed, the guns were brought out and cleaned and the car was loaded. It was gonna be a good time. They didn't really expect to bag anything, but the chance to unwind and relax was definitely a worthy alternative.

They made their way up the mountains on Friday, a ways away from where Bobby had his time alone in the cabin. They found a place to make camp and set up for a Saturday hunt. The evening consisted of cooking around a fire, with a few beers and some weed. Bobby made a call to Emmy. The cell reception was poor, but he was able to get a quick conversation in. They chatted and Bobby's excitement for time with his friends was evident. Emmy was glad for him, but her nature was one to worry for the boys.