CHAPTER 11\u2014DEPARTURES AND ARRIVALS<\/p>\n
The shrill staccato of the phone startled Sara Goldberg as she wiped down the last of the tables in her caf\u00e9. Her stomach dropped with the same weight of the wet rag she let fall to the table as she crossed to the counter to answer. For the past nineteen months, her husband Yacov had been stationed in Hebron, as part of his extended service in the Israeli Army. A late night call could only mean bad news.<\/p>\n
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\u201cShalom\u201d she answered shakily.<\/p>\n
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\u201cSara! Sara! My father\u2019s on his way to hospital. I wouldn\u2019t have called so late but I didn\u2019t know who else to call. There\u2019s a policeman standing here waiting to take me to Sinai but can you meet me there? I\u2019m afraid to be there alone. I\u2019m\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
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Hearing Hannah\u2019s voice, Sara had started to breathe a sigh of relief, until her words sank in. \u201cHannah, please slow down. Your father\u2019s taken ill? The police are there?\u201d<\/p>\n
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\u201cNo. He\u2019s been attacked. He was meeting Professor West in the park. I don\u2019t know what happened. Sara, I just can\u2019t go to hospital alone.\u201d Hannah\u2019s voice was hoarse and the tears were still flowing.<\/p>\n
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Grabbing her purse and keys, Sara had already begun turning off lights in her caf\u00e9. \u201cI\u2019m on my way. Do I need to come get you or should I go straight to hospital?\u201d <\/p>\n
Hannah took a deep breath. \u201cThe officer\u2019s here to take me. I\u2019ll meet you there. And can you please call Grace for me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbsolutely. What else do you need me to do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPray, Sara. Pray for my father.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m on my way. I\u2019ll meet you in Emergency.\u201d <\/p>\n
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Sara could hear Hannah holding back a fresh wave of sobs as she rang off. Impulsively, she filled a bag with a handful of muffins and grabbed several bottles of juice and water before setting the alarm and locking the shop. This could be a long night and Hannah would need her strength.<\/p>\n
Before starting the engine of her worn Accord, Sara dialed Grace. She knew her friend dreaded late night phone calls as well, having received news of sudden death of her father in Boston in the middle of the Jerusalem night. Grace picked up after only two rings. <\/p>\n
\u201cGrace, it\u2019s Sara. Something\u2019s happened to Kahlil el Said and Hannah\u2019s asked us to meet her at Sinai.\u201d She knew that even if Grace had been sleeping, she was one of those people who sprang instantly into full consciousness with the ringing of the phone. <\/p>\n
\u201cKahlil. What happened? Is it serious? Of course it is, or you wouldn\u2019t be calling.\u201d There really is<\/i> such a thing as a dumb question, she thought. \u201cHow\u2019s Hannah?\u201d <\/p>\n
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\u201cShe didn\u2019t say much, but it must be bad. An officer came to her door and offered to take her there himself. All I know is that he was meeting Art in the park and now he\u2019s on his way to Sinai.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you? Should I meet you there, or do you want to swing by?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m at the caf\u00e9. I can probably get there quicker if I go from here, but I can come there if you\u2019d rather not drive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be silly. I\u2019ll meet you there. Where\u2019s Art? Is he with Kahlil?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve no idea. Hannah was too upset about going hospital alone to say much more.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\u201cI\u2019m on my way. I\u2019ll see if I can reach him for details.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\u201cI told her we\u2019d meet her at Emergency.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\u201cWill do. Be safe.\u201d<\/p>\n
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\u201cYou too. I\u2019ll see you soon.\u201d<\/p>\n
As Sara started the engine and made a quick U-turn towards the hospital, Grace, now in her car, left messages at both Art\u2019s flat and on his cell, wondering what he had gotten himself into this time.<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n
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Ray Simpson tried unsuccessfully to creep about the tiny three-room flat without waking his roommate, Grayson Johnson. He\u2019d been lucky to find someone to share the rent and luckier still that the guy was so laid back he didn\u2019t make a nuisance of himself.<\/p>\n
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Ray\u2019s sleep deprivation rivaled that of a medical resident. If he played his cards right though, he\u2019d come out with the same Dr. in front of his name\u2014only it\u2019d be for Archaeology not Medicine. Most days he felt like an indentured servant and didn\u2019t look much better. He\u2019d never been an athlete and avoided exercise much the same way he avoided eating anything remotely resembling fresh produce, which resulted in his looking very much like an overstuffed rag doll\u2014softly padded and the color of muslin. No matter. He was basically enslaved to Patrick Stone anyway. <\/p>\n
No one else had even applied for the assistantship, and now Ray understood why. But then, his credentials hadn\u2019t gotten him much more than a cartload of standardized rejection letters from virtually every major program on both American coasts. Bottom line, they were stuck with each other because they, each in his own way, desperately needed the other. <\/p>\n
Ray tried to remind himself that the misery would end soon. He only needed to survive the summer, make enough money to pay for one more dissertation semester, and impress Stone just enough to get a passable recommendation in his file. All that<\/i> really meant was being at Dr.
\nShrew\u2019s beck and call 27 hours a day. He supposed he\u2019d had worse gigs\u2014transferring the school library\u2019s card catalogue to disk, for example\u2014than playing step and fetch it for one of Yale\u2019s tenured professors. And he had to admit that the work had, at times, been pretty interesting. Especially making replicas of artifacts for Stone\u2019s lectures. <\/p>\n
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Though his eyes burned and his fingers felt like they\u2019d been running violin scales for the last 9 hours, he couldn\u2019t settle down enough to sleep. Stone had been particularly irascible this afternoon\u2014so much so that Ray had turned off the ringer on his cell phone and left it to vibrate among the mess of sheets and blankets on his bed. He had more than enough to do for his task master. He\u2019d finally completed the matter of the moment. Anything else could wait until tomorrow.<\/p>\n
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Zeke Johnson looked up from the handheld football game at the apartment building across the street. Still no sign of that Stone guy. <\/span>He\u2019d changed positions more than a dozen times, eaten through three boxes of Cracker Jacks and beaten his all-time highest score twice since setting up surveillance. This tailing stuff was supposed to be cool\u2014exciting\u2014like it was on TV. <\/span>The cops on Law and Order never made it through a whole cup of coffee before the perp showed up. <\/p>\n He hadn\u2019t agreed with his folks at all about moving to Jerusalem for the impending Rapture. He\u2019d been perfectly happy working the rodeo circuit back home in Texas. It\u2019d been Luke who\u2019d convinced him that even if the world didn\u2019t end, they might as well get out from under Mama and Daddy\u2019s wings and have an adventure or two beyond the interchangeable arena\u2019s they\u2019d visited with the rodeo. <\/span>Trying to rub the pins and needles out of his left foot, he realized, not for the first time, that his big brother definitely didn\u2019t know everything. <\/p>\n For starters, the food here made the slop they\u2019d eaten on the road back home look like Mama\u2019s Sunday dinner. Even McDonald\u2019s tasted funny over here. Then there was football. Around here, football meant soccer\u2014like in England or something\u2014and when they could find the rare game on a satellite TV, it was always pro. No chance of catching the Aggies on any satellite channel in Jerusalem, no sirree. He was ready for some adventure already, but as he\u2019d just reported to Brother Lawes, not a dang thing had happened since he\u2019d struck up his first innocuous pose under the olive tree. <\/p>\n Bored with the football game, he dialed Luke\u2019s cell. <\/p>\n \u201cYo-oooooh\u201d he yawned into the phone when his brother picked up.<\/p>\n \u201cYo yourself. Man, is this a cool gig or what? I told you coming over here would be better than the Rodeo!\u201d answered a breathless Luke.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you trippin\u2019? I\u2019m so bored I wouldn\u2019t mind muckin\u2019 out a few stalls right now. This Stone guy ain\u2019t nowheres around.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, if he\u2019s anything like West, I\u2019d get ready to roll Z, \u2018cause I\u2019ve been all over J-town and back this afternoon!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re kiddin\u2019 man, right? I mean, no lie, I haven\u2019t done anything but eat Cracker Jacks, play football and cuss the day we got on that stupid seven-four-seven.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I\u2019m not playin\u2019 Z, this West guy has been plenty busy. First I followed him down to some official building\u2014the IAA or something\u2014and then I had to haul it up to some church in Bethany, then back down to his place and then over to the park by where they keep the Dead Sea Scrolls\u2014and here\u2019s where things got weird. I see the guy go in to the park, and then, like a minute later I see him come running out, and before I can figure what he\u2019s up to, an ambulance fires in, and then some cops come right behind \u2018em, pulling their ride up on the curb! Just like TV, Z!\u201d<\/p>\n \n \u201cDude, this is the circuit all over again. I always got the half-dead bull\u2014and you always wound up looking like the Marlboro Man\u201d Zeke whined. \u201cYou know, I wish we\u2019d never\u2014whoa Nellie. There he is. The guy really exists. Gotta fly Lu\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n He\u2019d spotted his mark weaving down the block towards the apartment building. The dude was muttering and flapping his hands like he was crazy or something\u2014and he kept looking behind him, over his shoulder. Zeke took two steps back into the canopy of the tree\u2019s branches and watched while Patrick Stone made his way through the doorway of his building, up the common stairwell, barely visible through the frosted hallway windows, and into his apartment where he systematically turned on all of the lights as he peered anxiously out of his own windows. <\/span>This might not be so bad after all, thought Zeke, as he traded the football game for the binoculars he pulled out from the depths of his backpack. <\/p>\n \n \n \n \n CHAPTER 12: <\/span>THE WAITING GAME<\/p>\n Art was surprised, relieved and grateful that the trip to the police station had been brief and, as these things go, fairly uneventful. Though he\u2019d never found himself in quite this kind of bind, he had expected to be detained until morning, interrogated mercilessly and perhaps even denied basic pleasantries like the fresh juice they\u2019d offered. Instead, the efficiency of the Jerusalem Police became crystal clear from the moment he\u2019d set foot in the station. <\/p>\n After Officers Leibowitz and Reiss introduced Inspector Jonah Katz, he in turn graciously showed Art to the men\u2019s room so he could freshen up before they began. <\/span>Returning to the stark hallway, they made their way not to an interrogation room, but to the Inspector\u2019s office where he began by asking Art if there was anyone he wished to call before they began. <\/p>\n His first instinct was to call Grace, but he didn\u2019t want to disturb her at this late hour. He quickly did some math in his head and decided that whether o Once he ended the call, he agreed to retell the story to the Inspector. It hadn\u2019t changed since he\u2019d reported the evening\u2019s events to the officers on the scene, something they solemnly noted to their superior. That done, the Inspector, again, gracious in his tone, asked if Art minded being fingerprinted for elimination purposes, after which he\u2019d be free to leave for the hospital to check on his friend. Art agreed and together he and Reiss headed for the booking area. Reiss was all business while completing the cards, but when they finished the last print, he looked up and smiled. \u201cIf you want to wash up, Leibowitz and I would be happy to give you a ride to the hospital, Professor. We know that Mr. el Said will need all the support he can get, while he\u2019s there.\u201d <\/p>\n Surprised and a little heartened, Art washed up and took the officers up on their offer. <\/span>It was still close to midnight when they deposited him at the main emergency entrance to Sinai Hospital. He was about to ask the kind looking woman at the information desk for the whereabouts of his friend, when he caught a glimpse of Grace turning the corner at the far end of a hallway. <\/p>\n \u201cGrace! Dr. Levine!\u201d he called before he realized he was shouting in a hospital. Luckily no one even turned, much less chastised him. Grace whipped around. \u201cArt? Is that you? What happened? Where have you been? Why didn\u2019t you call me? How\u2019d you get here?\u201d she practically shouted back.<\/p>\n He caught up to her, waving a hand in protest. \u201cEasy does it. What are you<\/i> doing here? How\u2019s Kahlil? Is Hannah here? How is she?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome. Come. I\u2019ll take you to her. She\u2019s with Sara in the family waiting room. Kahlil\u2019s still in surgery. Hannah called Sara and Sara called me, and none of us, not even Hannah, has been told what happened, so start talking Mister.\u201d<\/p>\n \n \u201cWhy don\u2019t I wait and just tell the story once, after I check in with Hannah and see if there\u2019s any new word on Kahlil. OK?\u201d Art could feel the stress of the day begin to attack his every move. His head hurt, his limbs ached, and his stomach still had that horrible churning sensation. <\/p>\n \u201cFair enough. They\u2019re right in here.\u201d Grace opened the door to a small room sparsely furnished with a lumpy couch and a handful of folding chairs scattered around a plastic patio table topped with muffins and bottles of water and juice. Hannah was sitting in one of the folding chairs, blotting swollen eyes, while Sara, kneeling beside her tried to soothe her in low, even tones. They both turned hopefully when the door opened, expecting the surgeon\u2019s report. Instead, upon seeing Art with Grace, Sara stood and Hannah ran to him, tears beating a rugged new path down her cheeks. <\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n \n The message light, beckoning from the kitchen counter, caught Harry\u2019s eye as he crossed from the side door to the refrigerator for his post-workout shake. He\u2019d skipped the gym in favor of a quick jog this morning. After twenty years in a lucrative law practice, Harry had decided to fuel his true passion\u2014biblical archaeology\u2014and founded the American Society of Biblical Archaeology. The career shift had allowed for a much needed lifestyle shift, one that now accommodated an exercise regimen and a similar level of intellectual stimulation without the toxic side effects of stress and high blood pressure that had begun to take their toll on his middle aged body. <\/p>\n Taking a few gulps, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and considered the blinking light. It was barely 7 am. Most of his ASBA colleagues kept collegiate office hours\u2014which meant this call, if not a wrong number, probably was for Harry Scholer, Esquire. He pressed the play button and heard his old friend Art West through the speaker. Though he registered the words, he focused more on Art\u2019s voice. He didn\u2019t sound right\u2014too formal, yet too cavalier. Before the message played itself out, he dialed Art\u2019s cell. <\/span><\/p>\n Art picked up on the third ring, sounded strained. Harry dove right in, \u201cArt, Harry. What\u2019s going on over there? I just walked in and found your message\u2014you don\u2019t sound like yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHarry. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. If I sound funny now it\u2019s because I just finished giving blood. I may be in a bit of a pickle and I wanted to check in with you. How dusty is that JD of yours?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou need legal advice on giving blood? Doesn\u2019t that fall more into the \u201cdo unto others…\u201d category?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, yes. I mean no. I mean, I\u2019m giving blood because my friend Kahlil el Said\u2014you remember him, the antiquities dealer\u2014was attacked tonight, and I found him. We were meeting for one of our chats and when I got there\u2014what? Oh, thank you.\u2014sorry, the nurse just brought me some juice\u2014anyway, he\u2019d been shot and I was taken in for questioning and fingerprinting and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou what? Art, please tell me you didn\u2019t say anything without some sort of council there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell of course I answered their questions. It was all very amiable. The officers who came to the scene both knew Kahlil, they sent a car for his daughter, and after taking me to the station they even gave me a ride to the hospital. They didn\u2019t really interrogate me\u2014we just had a chat in the Inspector\u2019s office.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cArthur. You know better! Where do things stand now?\u201d<\/p>\n \n \u201cI don\u2019t know really. I\u2019m still at the hospital\u2014this only happened a few hours ago. I have nothing to hide, I mean, it\u2019s not like the gun was mine or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGun? What gun?!\u201d Harry groaned.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know it was a gun when I pulled it out\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cYou didn\u2019t know it was a gun?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. No. Kahlil was lying on something, I just wanted to make him more comfortable. I\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n Harry groaned again. \u201cArt, for once, words elude me. You bet you\u2019re in a pickle. Go home. Now. Stay there. Don\u2019t say another word to anyone\u2014especially not the police. I\u2019ll catch the first plane over. Try to get some sleep and I\u2019ll call you when I land. Will you do as I ask, please?\u201d<\/p>\n Art wasn\u2019t sure what exactly he\u2019d done wrong, but he knew that Harry didn\u2019t scare easily. \u201cOkay. I will. I just don\u2019t know\u2014\u201c \u201cThanks Harry. Have a safe flight. I\u2019ll see you tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll do my best, but it may take an extra day. Let me see what I can do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI owe you, Harry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201dYes, you do. But one thing at a time, friend. Hang in there.\u201d<\/p>\n \n \u201cWill do.\u201d<\/p>\n \n Harry hung up the phone and shook his head. He could already feel the blood rising in a way it hadn\u2019t in years. Well, he\u2019d been hoping to fit in a trip to the Holy Land later in the summer. He hoped there was a empty seat on the next Jerusalem-bound flight out of Regan International.<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n \n Grace\u2019s clogs echoed in the hospital hallway as she made her way back to the waiting room. She rarely called in favors, but had taken advantage of her long-standing relationship with Sammy Cohen and woken him up with the request to organize any O-positive donors within the IAA, and had done the same with the academic dean at Jerusalem University. <\/span>Both men immediately forgave her the lateness of the calls when they realized that the esteemed Kahlil el Said needed not only their prayers, but their blood, and promised to do what they could immediately.<\/p>\n Wondering if she should offer to contact the Imam at the el Said\u2019s mosque, her thoughts turned back to Art. She adored the man, she really did, in a collegial way, and she greatly admired not only his fortitude when it came to research, but to his faith as well. As a Christian, Art embodied what she considered to be the most essential teachings of Jesus\u2014an openness of spirit and love. It was these same qualities though, that often gave him a naivet\u00e9 incongruous with his intellectual wit. Listening to his earlier explanation she\u2019d realized that she\u2019d known him long enough to hear between the lines\u2014there was something big he wasn\u2019t sharing and she couldn\u2019t wait to drag it out of him. <\/p>\n Reaching for the doorknob of the waiting room, she heard his voice behind her.<\/p>\n \n \u201cYes, Bill. That\u2019s right. O-positive. We sure do appreciate it. Anything you can do. And again, I apologize for calling so late…..Sure will. Thanks again\u2014you\u2019re a real blessing. Goodnight.\u201d Art looked up as he ended the call. \u201cThat was Bill Brown over at the American Institute of Holy Land Studies. Met him while I was in seminary. Hate that I hadn\u2019t had a chance to meet up with him yet this trip, but knew that he\u2019d not only rally the troops over there for Kahlil, but that he\u2019d start a prayer chain for him as well.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood work. I just spoke with both Sammy and Jack Samuels over at the University. They both send their prayers and said they\u2019d be sure to get some donors over here. Now tell me, what really<\/i> happened out there tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n Before he could answer, they were joined by a tall thin man in scrubs. \u201cExcuse me, please.\u201d He motioned towards the door handle Grace still held in her hand. \u201cOh! Excuse me<\/i>. Are you Mr. el Said\u2019s surgeon?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes I am. Steven Schwartz. And you are–?\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cDr. Grace Levine. Friend of the family, as is Dr. Arthur West here. We\u2019re both academics.\u201d She wanted to be clear about their monikers and avoid any confusion or concern on his part that they might be interfering MDs. \u201cHannah\u2019s inside. We\u2019re all anxious to hear your report.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cVery pleased to meet you. After you…\u201d He said, holding the door.<\/p>\n \n This time, Hannah and Sara were not disappointed when the door opened, revealing the wiry, worn out surgeon. \u201cMiss el Said, I\u2019m Dr. Schwartz. Your father\u2019s in recovery now, and in a bit, we\u2019ll take him to ICU. For the moment, he\u2019s doing as well as we can expect. We only found evidence of a single bullet, which entered his body, here…\u201d The surgeon indicated his own diaphragm. \u201c…it grazed his liver, before it shattered his spleen\u2014which is what caused the majority of the blood loss and is why we sent the nurse down to inform you of the need for blood donations. We removed his spleen–something he can still live a normal life without, by the way\u2014and barring any unforeseen infections, I feel confident that his insides will heal nicely.\u201d<\/p>\n Hannah\u2019s face brightened with fresh tears of relief and she started to speak. The doctor held up a palm. \u201cNow about his head injury. He seemed to have taken quite a hit on the head\u2014I\u2019m told it may simply have been from falling. In any case, he\u2019s sustained a large hematoma, or bruise. We didn\u2019t see any collateral damage on the X-rays or CT scans, but there\u2019s always a high risk of swelling with an internal head injury. As you know, our bodies have a tremendous capacity to heal, and to protect themselves. That said, I don\u2019t want you to be upset when I tell you that he\u2019s in a light coma. It\u2019s something we expect with this kind of trauma, and right now there\u2019s nothing to indicate that this is anything more than a temporary state. We\u2019ll keep him in ICU for the next few days so we can watch him closely. You, as immediate family, of course will be permitted to stay with him for as much of the day as you\u2019d like. We do ask that he not have any other visitors for the time being.\u201d For the first time since beginning his report, he took his eyes from Hannah\u2019s and, in turn, acknowledged Sara, Grace and Art, with a slight nod. <\/span>\u201cI can see you have an impressive support system already in place. Once we\u2019re sure your father is out of danger, we\u2019ll move him to a room where they can visit him without restriction, during the day. Unfo \n This boy must be making a mother somewhere very happy, thought Grace. She didn\u2019t know if she\u2019d ever met a surgeon with such a gentle, unassuming manner. He\u2019d not talked down to Hannah, or used a bunch of medical gobbley gook to describe Kahlil\u2019s condition, and he\u2019d made it pretty clear by the tone of his voice, that he didn\u2019t exactly agree with the hospital\u2019s policy towards non-family visitors. She felt good knowing Kahlil\u2019s fate lay partially in the young doctor\u2019s hands, and made a note to say that later to Hannah.<\/p>\n \u201cDr. Schwartz, thank you for all you have done for my father, and for being so kind to me. I have only one question\u2014how soon may I see him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI expect we\u2019ll be moving him to ICU within the hour. I\u2019ll send a nurse for you just as soon as we\u2019ve got him settled in up there. Anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAbout the blood\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \n Grace interrupted her. \u201cHannah, Art and I have already taken care of that. After he gave his pint, he called Professor Brown over at the Institute and I rang both Dr. Cohen at the IAA and Dr. Samuels at the University. Between the three of them, I expect we\u2019ll have the hospital restocked in no time.\u201d <\/p>\n \n \u201cThen, no. No more questions, Doctor. Thank you again.\u201d<\/p>\n \n \u201cI\u2019m glad to have been of help.\u201d He handed her a card. \u201cMy beeper number is on here\u2014do not hesitate to use it if you think of any other questions. Often this time is so overwhelming that I\u2019ve found it best to be available for my patients\u2019 families. You may well forget everything you\u2019ve just heard from me, so please, take me at my word, and ring if you have any concerns.\u201d He flashed a genuine smile, and with a short bow, took his leave.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat a charming man. Hannah, I feel very good about his caring for your father.\u201d offered Grace. <\/p>\n \n \u201cI do as well. And thank you all. For being here. Grace, Professor Art, for making those calls\u2014for giving your blood. You are blessings from Allah.\u201d<\/p>\n \n \u201cWe wouldn\u2019t have it any other way. We\u2019ll all be praying for his healing, as will the friends we phoned. You concentrate your thought and prayers on his well being, Hannah.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHannah, do you want us to stay with you until you see him?\u201d Grace asked.<\/p>\n \n \u201cWhy don\u2019t I stay with Hannah, and you and Art can get some sleep. I don\u2019t know how you\u2019re still standing after the night you\u2019ve had!\u201d Sara said, more to Art than Grace. <\/p>\n \n And she didn\u2019t know the half of it, thought Grace. And neither do I. Grace could see Art trying not to look too hopeful when he looked from Hannah to Grace for the verdict. <\/p>\n \n \u201cOh! Certainly. Yes. You\u2019ve both done more than I could ever repay. That is, if you don\u2019t mind staying a bit longer with me, Sara, just until…until…\u201d Hannah\u2019s voice began to crack again with tears flowing. \u201cI don\u2019t know what I\u2019d do without him…\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cHannah. Don\u2019t you worry about that just now. You just stay focused on those positive prayers, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n \n Nodding her assent, she thanked everyone again and ran from the room.<\/p>\n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" CHAPTER 11\u2014DEPARTURES AND ARRIVALS The shrill staccato of the phone startled Sara Goldberg as she wiped down the last of the tables in her caf\u00e9. Her stomach dropped with the same weight of the wet rag she let fall to the table as she crossed to the counter to answer. For the past nineteen months,…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":199,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-539","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\n
\nr not it would come to needing an attorney, he\u2019d best ring his friend Harry Scholer, a DC attorney. Paging through his cell phone directory, he found the number and hit talk. After close to a minute the line began ringing through the wind tunnel of the overseas call. After five rings, the lawyer\u2019s voice mail picked up. Of course. Harry was probably at the gym or already back and in the shower. Given his audience, he left a brief, matter-of-fact message, minus any of the panic that was steamrolling anew through his stomach. Trying to sound nonchalant, he asked Harry to return the call as soon as humanly possible. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right. You don\u2019t know. That\u2019s why you called me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nrtunately, until then, hospital policy only permits visits by non-family members to thirty minutes at a time here in the waiting room. Are there any questions I can answer for you at this time?\u201d<\/p>\n