| |
Levi
Levi didn’t know how long he’d spent silently waiting, hoping that his grandfather would reappear. He tried to make it happen with his mind, though a big part of him now knew that Gamp had not been a hallucination. This same part of him knew that it hadn’t been a ghost. What it had been, he didn’t know.
Please, God, he silently prayed. Send him back to me.
Levi had thought he was really scared back when Gamp had been there. Now he knew this wasn’t true. That fear had been nothing compared to what he was feeling now. That was a puddle. This was an ocean, and there was no land in sight. The fear made him colder, though his heart was racing. Again he tried to move toward the broken stairs, but he had only gone inches when he realized again that it wasn’t going to work. Any movement at all sent a pain up his leg that made him dizzy and nauseous.
A tear slid lazily down his cheek. He couldn’t believe he still had enough fluid in him for tears.
I need to calm down, he told himself. Gamp said they were coming. I need to stay alive until they get here. He tried to imagine who they was. The police? The paramedics? He hoped his mom would be with whoever it was. What a good mom he had. If he lived through this, he was never going to take her for granted again. He was going to apologize for everything he’d ever done to hurt her and he was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
But first, he had to stay alive.
He forced himself to take long, deep breaths. He looked out the window. What time was it? It felt as though the light in the basement was getting dimmer. Did that mean it was almost night again, or was it just cloudy?
“At least it’s not raining anymore,” he said aloud, just so there would be noise. Rain would slow his rescuers down. “Please don’t let it rain.” He was surprised at how much the sound of his voice encouraged him. He wasn’t dead yet.
He should keep talking. But it was beyond crazy to just talk to himself. So he should pray. Right? Just to keep himself talking. “Fine, I’ll pray.” His voice didn’t sound like his, and he tried to clear his throat, but that hurt more than it was worth. He took a long breath. “I don’t know if you’re real. I don’t see how you can be. Nothing about you makes sense, but whatever.” He wondered if he’d made God mad. “Sorry. I am in no position to be trying to make you mad.” This flippant statement brought his heart a wallop of conviction. “I’m in no position to be trying to make you do anything,” he said more softly. He thought about his next words, wanting to get them right. “If you’re real, then I have really messed up, huh?”
A new thought occurred to him: did the presence of Gamp prove that God was real? Had God sent Gamp to help him? This sent a rush of hope through him so powerful that his skin tingled. “Okay. Let’s say you’re real. Then, I am so, so sorry. Sorry I haven’t believed in you. Sorry I chose myself over you. Sorry I hurt people. Sorry I hurt myself.” He paused, again trying to get the words right. “I do want to know truth. If it’s not too late, I’d love it if you’d give it to me.” His voice cracked on these words, and he didn’t know why. “And of course, I’d love it if you’d get me out of this basement, if you’d let me live another few years, at least ... Please, God. I’m begging you. Don’t do this to my mother. Give me a chance to make it up to her. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
