Children of the Knight (33 page)

Arthur lowered his head to his clasped hands and said in an imploring voice, “Dear God, long ago I bore witness to a miracle, performed through my dear friend Lancelot.”

Lance glanced up at that name, but quickly lowered his head as Arthur continued, “I now ask, not for mine own glory, but for the children whom I seek to lead, that thou doth send forth thy healing powers to restore this innocent child to full health. These knights of mine must make a tremendous leap of faith, dear Lord, and this night may prove the success or failure of my mission. If thou doth see fit to grant the prayer of this, thy most humble servant, I shalt not ask another miracle of thee.”

He fell silent, bowing his head and reaching beneath the tent to take Anna’s hand in both of his. Lance watched but nothing happened. He didn’t know what he’d expected to occur, since he wasn’t much on praying, but now, watching Arthur clasping the girl’s hand, head bowed in supplication before God, Lance
did
pray. For real. He prayed with all his might that the girl would live.

Out in the corridor, it seemed like hours had passed since Arthur asked them all to leave the room. Jaime’s mother stared into nothingness, her thoughts on the beautiful child she might lose this night to senseless gang violence.

Jaime paced back and forth in front of Sonia, who sat in a chair watching him.

“This is all my fault,” he kept mumbling over and over again as he paced.

Sonia had tried to comfort him, but he wanted none of it. He felt far too guilty. Esteban and Darnell leaned against the wall by the door, watching Jaime pace and eyeing each other uncertainly. Mark and Jack sat together, Mark with his head on Jack’s shoulder, Jack’s solid arm encircling Mark’s waist.

Fiddling absently with his cornrows, Darnell elbowed Esteban and indicated the pair with a smirk. Esteban glanced at the two gay boys and realized he didn’t care. Like Lance said, who gives a rip? He just shrugged, slipped his mask back over his mouth, and impulsively reentered the room.

Lance and Arthur still knelt where they had started, Arthur’s head bent in prayer over the girl. Lance’s legs had begun to cramp, but he dared not rise. He looked up when Esteban entered. The bigger boy stepped forward into the room and whispered, “What’s he doing?”

“Praying,” Lance whispered back.

Esteban glanced sharply at Arthur but said nothing.

After a short while, Jaime stopped pacing when he noticed that Esteban was gone. He raised his eyebrows at Darnell, who was now sitting by himself, and the black boy nodded his head in the direction of the room. Jaime stepped to the door, replaced his mask, and entered cautiously.

He sucked in a surprised breath at the sight of Arthur, still bent in prayer, with Lance and Esteban kneeling on either side of him, also praying. Jaime paused, realizing he hadn’t prayed since he was a small boy, then shut the door and went to join them.

As morning broke into a hazy sunrise, the intensive care floor had settled into an almost calm environment. The corridor was mostly empty, except for Jaime’s mother and Sonia, who had fallen asleep against each other. Suddenly, mom snapped her eyes open, looking around in fear, realizing she had slept through the night. She shook Sonia quickly awake, threw off the blanket someone had draped over her, and dashed into her daughter’s room, with Sonia, wiping sleep from her eyes, close on her heels.

As Jaime’s mom entered, she gasped, hand at her mouth in surprise. All the boys were kneeling around her daughter’s bed, heads bent, hands clasped together in a prayer chain, with Lance and Esteban completing the circle by holding Arthur’s arms at the elbows. Arthur had not moved the entire night, which amazed Lance whenever his mind drifted away from the girl. He couldn’t even move; his legs were so stiff and numb.

As the two women stared in disbelief, Anna suddenly stirred beneath the oxygen tent, a tiny, barely audible moan escaping her lips. Arthur finally lifted his head, as did all the boys. Their eyes flicked from each other to Arthur and then locked on the pale figure beneath the tent.

Arthur stood at last and gazed with true compassion at the small, cherubic brown face behind the sheet of plastic, lowering his mask to reveal his entire appearance. He offered the girl that charming smile everyone seemed to love.

Anna’s light brown eyes fluttered fully open, her gaze danced around the room, at the tent above her and the machines around her, and then focused on Arthur. Her face looked pale and bloodless, but her eyes shone brightly with life and love. She smiled at this man whom she’d never seen, yet somehow knew had helped her. Arthur grinned.

“
Gracias
,” Anna whispered, and Arthur nodded. Then Anna shifted her gaze toward her mother, who stood to one side, hand still to her mouth in shock.

Arthur glanced up toward heaven. “
Gracias
,
Señor
,” he whispered tiredly, his boys staring at him in silent bewilderment.

Jaime’s mom bolted for the bed, and the prayer chain broke as the boys stood to let her through. Throwing back the plastic tent, she reached in and gently touched her daughter’s face, stroked it in joyous disbelief, her eyes filling with tears.

Anna just smiled. “I’m okay, Mama, don’t cry. I feel much better.” Her voice sounded small and raspy, but strong and assured.

Mom drew her hand back and turned to Arthur. She said nothing, merely threw herself around him in a tight hug of joy and gratitude. Sonia grabbed Jaime’s hand and squeezed, while Esteban and Darnell high-fived each other. What had they just witnessed? Miracle? Coincidence? Mark and Jack asked themselves the same question, arms around each other’s shoulders as they basked in the glow of the girl’s recovery.

Arthur held Jaime’s mother tight in his arms a moment, accepting her silent, tearful thanks, but his questioning eyes drifted to Esteban and locked on those of the boy.

Tired and confused about what had happened, Esteban felt tight with emotion. He gazed at Arthur, into the man’s compassionate brown eyes, held the gaze a moment, then sighed and nodded. “Okay, Arthur, no payback,” he whispered quietly, but then added, “for now.”

Arthur grinned with relief and released Jaime’s mom. He motioned to the other boys to leave the family alone, and a tired, confused group of youngsters left the room and the hospital, not fully comprehending what they had done but knowing it had been something important. And that was enough.

Chapter 7

E
ARLY
that morning, the Hollenbeck Station was bustling with activity. The drive-by the night before was on everyone’s radar. It was the first in a long while, and did not bode well for the coming days. One drive-by led to another and to another, like the domino effect. All units were on high alert, and extra patrol cars had been sent to cruise the most likely neighborhoods for retaliation.

Gibson strode quickly to Ryan’s desk and tossed down the morning paper. “Hey, Ry, looks like we missed a chance to nab our king.”

Ryan was on his computer, triangulating possible retaliation sites for patrol when the paper landed atop his keyboard.

“Check it out.”

Ryan stared at the
Los Angeles Times
with its above-the-fold headline: King Arthur Leads Prayer Vigil Over Drive-by Victim.

“Hellfire! He was there all night and nobody called us?”

Gibson shrugged. “I guess nobody wanted to. If you read the story, they all think he performed some kinda miracle. Docs said that girl was a goner till this guy and his kids showed up.”

“Damn it!” Ryan threw down the paper and snatched up another pencil, which he began gnawing furiously. “He was with them gangbangers, so we know what kinda trash he’s recruiting. Question is, why? What are they up to? Any sign of payback for that little girl?”

Gibson shook his head. “No.”

“There will be.” Ryan was sure of that. These gangbangers were nothing if not predictable.

But Gibson wasn’t so sure. “I wonder.”

Ryan furiously snapped his pencil and threw the pieces onto the newspaper.

A
VERY
tired but enthusiastic group followed Arthur back through the tunnels to The Hub, not speaking much, each entangled within his own thoughts about what they had witnessed during the night. Darnell had left to go on home, but the rest filed in quietly, almost with reverence. As they entered The Hub, Esteban spotted Reyna sitting against the wall of one of the tunnels and scowled.

She looked up and saw him mad-dogging her, and leapt to her feet. “Este, what—”

But he didn’t wait for her to finish. He disappeared down another tunnel to change his clothes.

Arthur walked silently to his throne and sat tiredly, exhausted from the night’s exertions.

Lance, however, witnessed the exchange and stepped into the tunnel to face Reyna. She looked tired and drawn, her makeup fading, her hair drooping. She must’ve been awake all night, he surmised.

“What you still doing here?”

She shrugged, fiddling with her luxurious ponytail hair, the unraveling strands giving her a frizzled look. “Wanted to find out what happened, I guess,” she said, trying to sound disinterested, but failing. Her well-trimmed, pencil-thin eyebrows rose questioningly. “Well?”

Lance sighed, pushing his own draping hair out of his eyes. Man, was he tired. “The girl’s okay,” he said, smiling, but bewildered. “I don’ know what happened, really. She was like, dying, and then Arthur prayed over her all night. I mean, we all, like, formed a prayer circle, but it was Arthur who did it, Reyna. I don’ know. It was… it was like a miracle or something.” He trailed off uncertainly.

For the first time, Reyna felt as dumbfounded as she must’ve looked. “Wow,” she whispered. “I never saw a real miracle before.”

“Me, neither,” replied Lance with a tired grin. He eyed her appraisingly. “So why didn’t you go?”

She mimicked shivering and just shook her head. “Me? Down there with all
those
people.”

Lance was confused. “What people?”

Reyna looked at him like he was stupid. “You
know
, poor people.”

Lance looked her right in the eye, not easy with a girl that intimidating. “You mean like me?”