Chapter 13

Episode 10 - Whistle Down the Wind

It was no use. Brady rolled over on his bed for the two-dozenth time since he’d lain down, but he couldn’t settle, and it wasn’t because of his body.

This is pathetic.

Marcus would have been sound asleep at this point, even if he hadn’t moved out, and it wasn’t like Brady could have heard his breathing through the walls unless something was badly wrong. So why did just knowing he wasn’t there make such a difference?

Gritting his teeth, Brady pushed back the covers and crawled out of bed, ignoring the alarm bells in his head that said this was a terrible idea, which it definitely was. But if the ache that wouldn’t let him sleep had its roots in the now empty room across the hall, maybe being there would help to loosen it.

Turning on the lights would have been an even worse idea, but Brady found his way to the bed with no trouble and sank down on the side of it as a flood of memories engulfed him. This was ridiculous—he was thrilled that Marcus was well; he didn’t want to be sitting by his side, willing him through another life-threatening asthma attack, but somehow— Brady dug his palms into his eyes, trying to press away the threatening sting without intensifying the headache that was already twining its tendrils into his stomach.

The dim emergency lighting from the hallway flashed in his peripheral vision, and a soft rustle of fabric whispered in his ear. Brady didn’t raise his head, but he wasn’t surprised when Rachelle’s warm hand caressed his shoulder.

“What are you doing up?” He wasn’t sure why he bothered to try to steady his voice; if she’d found him here, she had to have at least some inkling of how he must be feeling.

“You know I’m not the one who ends up sick when I stay up too late.” Rachelle’s tone was gentle and not at all scolding, but Brady still grimaced.

“I tried. Honest. Couldn’t sleep worth a red cent.”

“I know.” The sincerity in her voice left no doubt that she truly did.

“How can somebody you’ve known for just months…” Brady let his voice trail off, and Rachelle hummed thoughtfully.

“You know, you haven’t known any of us a full year yet, if it comes to that.”

“Feels like a lifetime,” Brady murmured, and Rachelle chuckled a little.

“I’ll take that as the compliment I know you meant it for. But I agree. Marcus was special. Is special. We’ll all miss him—but you bonded with him more than anyone.”

“I guess digging a kid out of a wall and trying to teach him how to breathe again’ll do that for you.” Brady attempted a smile as he lifted his head, but his eyes blurred, and he had to drop them back into his hands. “Ugh, this is ridiculous! It’s not like he’s died. This is exactly what I wanted for him. What I prayed for. I’m—ecstatic for him. Truly! So why—”

“Hey.” Rachelle’s hand slid down his arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Of course we’re happy for him. That doesn’t mean we can’t miss him—or mourn what we’ve lost.”

“It feels so—selfish.”

“Brady, it’s human. And it’s healthy to grieve. If you let that grief get in the way of what’s best for Marcus, that would be selfish. But you’re not doing that. You’re not calling him back, or making him regret going. You’re honestly rejoicing for him. It’s okay that your feelings are complicated. And it’s okay to acknowledge that.” She was quiet for a few seconds before adding, “Might help you sleep too.”

Brady took a few slow breaths, attempting to dissipate the ache in his chest, but it didn’t loosen, and he finally managed to whisper the words at the heart of it.

“I’m going to miss him—so much.”

Rachelle drew his head down to rest on her shoulder and ran her hand gently through his hair, and Brady let a few hot tears fall as the pain he’d tried to bury surged to the surface. He let himself rest in her strength for a moment before slowly lifting his head again. Unfortunately, he’d barely raised it when he had to grip his forehead hard as a wave of pain and dizziness washed over him. Rachelle reached for his elbow and held him steady until he wasn’t about to fall over, then squeezed his arm insistently.

“You really need to lie down now. Your room, or here?”

“Hope I’m not—quite that pathetic.” Brady attempted a weak chuckle, but it was a failure even in his own ears.

Rachelle gave him a moment to gather his strength, but finally he yielded to the gentle pressure of her hand and stumbled from Marcus’s bed back to his own, where Rachelle carefully smoothed the covers over his shivering body. She sat stroking his back for a few moments, until Brady finally mustered the strength to speak again.

“’M okay, Chelle.”

“Mmm-hmm.” There was no skepticism in her tone, but she didn’t make a move to leave his bedside. She waited a few moments while the pain surged and ebbed, and the ache had begun to dull a little when she spoke again. “Think you’re going to need the doctor?”

“Not yet. No telling.” Brady let out a slow, careful breath. “Partway there, not gonna lie, but—might still come back.”

“Promise to call me if you pass that point?”

“Yeah.” The hint of a wry smile twisted the corner of his mouth for just a second. “If it even keeps working like it’s supposed to—or—like it always has, I guess.”

“Talk about complicated feelings.” Rachelle sighed softly, and Brady grunted.

“The ‘why him not me’ bit? Yeah. Been all over it. I mean—wouldn’t take it from him—for a million bucks, but—”

“Of course not. None of us would. It’s the ‘why not me too’ that’s hardest. And the hope that gets stirred up without even trying, just to drain away again.”

“You too?” Brady’s voice wavered a little over the simple words, and Rachelle’s laugh held a hint of disbelief.

“Did you really think it was just you? Nowhere close. We’re all dealing with the complicated feelings. And the guilt. And the questions.”

“So many questions.” Brady hadn’t meant to whisper, but Rachelle’s hand slid from his back to his hand and squeezed gently.

“It’s natural. And also not wrong. But in that case—I think we may already have some of the answers.”

“You do?” Brady scraped together enough strength to squint his eyes up at her, and Rachelle smiled sadly through the blur that still filled them.

“Not new ones. And not—maybe not what you’d actually call answers. Probably not what anyone else would. But—we’ve seen the ways—you and I have—that God’s chosen to use us here. Or some of them; I’m not claiming I can see anything like the full picture. But God obviously has a purpose for all this. Maybe several. It seems like Marcus’s purpose has moved on to a different place, but ours hasn’t changed. We just keep being faithful to our calling. To the opportunities He puts in front of us. To each other. We do our best with what we have. What’s your mom’s phrase? ‘Bloom where you’re planted’? Take the best care we can of what we’ve been given until the Lord chooses to move us on—one way or another.”

Brady was silent for a moment as the pictures and memories of not quite a year swirled and blended together into broken but beautiful mosaics. Rachelle, working so hard to be strong and present for everyone, despite her fragile body. Harper, hiding so much insecurity and heartache behind a mask of silliness and laughter. Dash, allowing unexpected depths of feeling to shine between the cracks of his sarcastic facade.

He’d told Marcus that God still had work for him, just in another place. But of course that was still true for the rest of them, and if God hadn’t moved them on, that work must still be here. He had hoped from the beginning that his stay would be temporary, but if God wanted it to be permanent—or at least longer-term—then he could certainly think of much worse places to be in, and much worse people to share it with.

All right, Father. I don’t understand it all, but—thank you for Marcus. For his time here. For giving him back what we never thought any of us would have again. Bless him and his family—now and always. And if You’ve chosen not to move me on yet—then just keep using me the way You want to. I’m here—and I’ll stay till You show me otherwise.

Somehow that prayer did more to relieve the tight feeling in Brady’s chest than anything else that had been said or done since he’d left his own room to sit in the emptiness of what had once been Marcus’s.

“Chelle…” The word slurred more than he’d meant it to, and Rachelle touched a finger to his lips.

“No more words.” The tender smile on her face came through clearly in her voice, even as it faded in his ears. “Good night, Brady. One way or another, I’ll see you in the morning.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And we’ve come to the end of another season. This one was tough, but I really wanted to capture the complicated mixture of rejoicing and grief that can result when you watch someone else live your dream of finally getting better—sometimes with the very treatment that hasn’t worked for you. It’s a hard thing to picture if you haven’t lived through it, but I hope I was able to capture at least a realistic glimpse of it.

Which leads us into the next season—with Marcus gone, we’ll be focusing in on the original four again, and getting deeper into what’s hiding behind at least one of those tough masks. Those of you who have rooted for Dash from the beginning, when he was doing his best to show only his worst side—I think you’ll really, really like the upcoming season. (At least, I hope!)

Meantime, we are going to take a longer between-seasons break and start on Episode 11, Man Down, in October. I will be emailing you at least once or twice in that break when I finish the final ebook and the season omnibus in both ebook and paperback. (And also Episode 9, which somehow got buried in my to-do list and never made it to a final edit. I will get that done too, and send them all out to you as soon as I can.)

I’m really looking forward to the break and to hopefully making progress on some other projects that I’m still excited about but haven’t had time to work on with the demands of this serial. If you want to keep on top of what I’m working on during that time, feel free to sign up for my regular author newsletter, where I share everything not CWC related. Otherwise, I’ll see you again with the finished ebook and season collections, and then we’ll be back in October!

Thank you again so much for sticking with me this far! We have now hit the halfway mark of the series, at least as far as I have planned it. Can you believe we’ll be at four years by the time we hit October? In some ways, it feels like it’s flown by, but in others, it feels like I’ve been at this forever! Either way, I’m not sure I could have kept it up without knowing you guys were on the other end, waiting and enjoying. Your support and encouragement has meant everything, and I look forward to sharing the next season soon. Appreciate you all so much!