The Children's Hospital

78

It doesn’t seem right, I say, to just throw him overboard like that.

You are an angel, my sister says. Who are you to question such a thing.

I was…

Was! Was! Who are you now?

It wasn’t what he wanted.

Some who want to be saved are neglected. So how fortunate is the one who runs from it, and yet is caught up?

The poor child, I say.

Sentiment for an abomination. Poor brother. You are sad. Why are you so sad? See how everything proceeds. See how well our littlest brother does his work? Soon it will just be the Mother, nested cozily among the ash. Her water will break, and the water will recede. And then… do you see it?

I only see a helpless child, tossed about in an unforgiving sea.

Poor brother! An angel without the comforts and equipment of his angelhood. Faithless and sad, who made you that way?

He talked to me. I think he was my friend.

I am your friend. Our brothers are your friends. I am your sister!

I had a better one, once, I say, and what will happen to her? Then I launch myself away from the hospital seeking after the abominable child. But I’ve hardly gone a few miles, and only cried his name three times over the waters, before I am pulled back.

Foolish brother, my sister says. Sad angel. Better to do your job, and at least pretend to have faith, than to fling yourself about like a pigeon.