The Tears of the Stars Pt. 01

Just outside the office, Sally Travers was deep in conversation with Deacon Jeffrey Chamblers. The deacon was an older man in his late sixties with a trimmed white beard and white hair. He had a pot belly and short, thick legs. But he was a kind hearted man with a jovial demeanor and a love of serving the church.

"Deacon Chamblers." Dana said walking up to him. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Dr. Monroe, the pleasure is all mine. And might I say you look lovely."

"You may." She smiled. "I had no idea you were so charming. Please call me Dana." She turned to Sally. "Mrs. Travers, if you would excuse us."

Sally did her pleasantries and let them go. Dana could tell it bothered her to be dismissed. Sally wanted to be a part of the conversation. It was because of her that Dana was even having the meeting with Deacon Chamblers. She wrote letters, and had other church members write letters, until they could not be ignored. Dana would have preferred the whole thing just go away but she couldn't present an explanation.

Dana led the deacon into her office and closed the door and then offered him a seat on the sofa. She poured him a glass of water from a pitcher and set it on the coffee table in front of him.

"So Deacon Chamblers, you are here to discuss the case of Josh Callaway?" Dana said.

"Well, yes. I'd like to know what you think of it." He stated bluntly. "I'm told you were on his team of doctors and took a personal interest in the boy."

"I was." She said. "He's a precious child, Deacon. It's a difficult part of our job watching young children suffer with illness and disease. Josh Callaway," she said, "couldn't be helped. He had advanced stage four lymphocytic leukemia. His spleen, liver and lymph nodes were all enlarged and infected. He had severe anemia. It was in his bones. Our treatment options had run out. He was ill from the amount of chemotherapy we tried to use to get him into remission. My prognosis, and that of any other oncologist you speak with, is that he had less than a week."

"I see." Deacon Chamblers said rubbing his beard, his face more serious. "You realize that I'm here at the behest of the Regional Bishop for the Catholic Church. The church doesn't like to throw around the word 'miracle' lightly. I waited for the hullabaloo to die down just to visit. Would you say there is no medical explanation for the boy's recovery?"

"He shouldn't be alive, Deacon Chamblers. I can't tell you what killed the cancer cells in his body. But I'm a doctor. I spent a lot of money going to a fancy school to put a piece a paper on my wall that says I studied math and science. I mean no disrespect when I tell you that I don't believe in miracles. I only believe in science that we don't understand yet."

Deacon Chamblers let out a good laugh. "No disrespect at all, Dana. But let's say I wanted to define a miracle as an unexplained recovery from a terminal illness that doesn't fit into any known scientific or medical reasoning. In that case, would this fit that definition?"

Dana smiled. Perhaps he was smarter than he looked. "I suppose it would."

"A second piece of business if you will." Deacon Chamblers said. "Sally Travers believes that her son may have had something to do with the boy's healing."

"If we're calling it a healing." Dana cautioned.

"Yes, of course. If..."

"Well, I looked after her son at her request." Dana stated. "An unusual case as well in some ways... But in the end, he most likely sustained a concussion hiking, came home after waking up and suffered some swelling. Our MRI machine was malfunctioning at the time. Mrs. Travers is a lovely woman... but also a woman of deep faith. Sometimes people want to find God in everything, Deacon Chamblers. Do you understand what I'm saying? She was praying for his recovery and then this other event happened and it felt good for her to connect the dots. Jackson Travers is no more responsible than the sun was responsible because it shone through Josh's window that morning."

He nodded along as he listened. "Yes, yes. I can see what you're saying." He noted. "Did Jackson Travers speak to the boy?"

"He did... with me standing at his side, and I can assure you that no one was healed."

"Yes, yes. Alright. I shouldn't take up more of your time. I will speak with the Bishop. He may ask for hospital records on Josh Callaway. Would that be alright?"

"That's up to his parents, of course."

"Of course. Of course. I'll be in touch."

******

Sally Travers waited impatiently on the terrace off the hospital's cafeteria. Few people ever noticed the outdoor tables tucked around the corner. They were set behind a row of potted trees that had overgrown and served to hide the location. It offered a peaceful retreat from the clamor and bustle inside.

Sally struggled the past few weeks at work. Things at home were falling apart. She tried to immerse herself at the hospital as a distraction but she was unfocused and tired. Several nights she found herself stopping at church on the way home to say some prayers. There was something happening with her son. She knew it. The conversation he had with Dana kept replaying in her head. He said he fixed that boy. He admitted to doing it.

She hadn't seen him in weeks. Jackson still wouldn't come inside when she was home. He hid in the barn until she went to work. She wondered if he might have been right all along. Had she been a bad mother? Had she pushed them too hard? Ever since she found Stacy in her room touching herself, she'd disappeared as well. She wished she hadn't hit her. It was lonely in her house. There was no one there when she got home at night. And no one when she woke up in the morning. It felt empty.

Dana was somehow at the root of it all. That's how her thought process always ended. Dana knew something when she showed up at the hospital that day and drove to her house. She and Jackson talked about that boy. There was something between them. Then he took her into the barn and talked some more and she ran to the car and then kissed him and that was that. She hadn't mentioned him since. And he hadn't been the same.

Dana walked out with her lunch and turned the corner to sit at her usual table. She rolled her eyes when she saw Sally sitting at the table across from hers. "Sally." She said flatly acknowledging her.

"Oh, what coincidence..." Sally began.

"Cut the shit, Sally. What do you want?"

Sally moved from the next table over to sit in front of her. "You told Deacon Chamblers that Jackson didn't have anything to do with that boy's miracle." She said in harried voice. "You and I both know he admitted to doing it. Why would you lie?"

Dana sighed heavily. "I don't know what you think you heard."

"I know what I heard!"

"And why is it so important?" Dana snapped. "Can I ask you that? If you were right, why is it so important? Do desperately want your son medically tested? Religiously questioned? Canonized? Scrutinized? You know how it will go. Television cameras. Tabloids. No privacy. His history dug up. Your history. Your daughters."

"Well if it's true then it's important that people know." She said righteously, feeling attacked by the questions. "If he carried out the divine work of the Lord then we must spread the word."

"I'm not a religious person, Sally. I'm not. I told the Deacon the truth of what happened. I don't have an explanation for Josh Callaway's recovery. And Jackson Travers did not have anything to do with it."

"That's a lie. And I don't know what you said to my son, but you did something to him." Sally stewed.

"Sally, your son is one of the sweetest, well-mannered men I've met. A true gentleman. He'll never move away from you. He has a sense of responsibility to his sister, and he has the honor to make good on it. But don't be fooled, your son hates you. He hates the guilt you lay on him and lay on Stacy. He hates that he's twenty-five and only had one girlfriend and that she left because of you."

"How... how do you think you know so much about him?" Sally asked sharply, but her chin quivered gently as the words came out. "Is that why he moved into the barn? He hasn't spoken to me since you left that day."

"He told me. How else would I know? He talked and talked like he needed a friend." Dana's look was distant for a moment as she thought about him. "He's special, Sally. He might be young but it was like talking to someone so much older. And he's so thoughtful. God..." She laughed lightly thinking back on their conversations. "He had this thing where he said just the right thing. It was perfect. He was perfect."

The revelation struck Sally suddenly. "You're in love with him."

Dana smiled and then shook of the memory. "Sally, I recommend that you go out and find a nice man and stop meddling in your children's lives. Let them go be their own people instead of frightening them with threats of God's judgment as a way to keep them at home so you don't feel abandoned. It's sad what you're doing. And in the end he abandoned you anyway, didn't he? Only now, he hates you too."

"That's a horrible thing to say!" Sally protested.

"It's the truth. Maybe you can use it to fix things." She said plainly. "Is that all?"

Sally was sad and angry. "No! I want to know the truth about you and Jackson!" She demanded.

Dana knew she was referring to Josh Callaway, but this woman had been a nuisance since she brought her son in to the hospital over a month ago. Her opinion of her had changed so drastically in that little bit of time. "Okay. The truth about me and Jackson. I drove him home and we had an amazing conversation. I'm a career-oriented woman. I've never considered settling down. But something about him was just... I don't even know how to describe it. I walked him down to the barn behind your house and he kissed me. And I kissed him back. And then he made love to me in a way that I didn't know was possible. We slept naked together. And it was amazing. And I miss him. That's the truth."

Sally sat slack jawed. "You're the devil." She hissed quietly.

"Sally, it's not lost on me that you're pursuing this connection between Jackson and Josh to prove to the world that you're some type of good Catholic or that God favors your family. It's completely self-serving. And it makes sense considering you've let your faith ruin your family thus far." She said concretely. "I gave you good advice today. But if you think I'm the devil, then I'll be the pot and you can be the kettle. Pleased to meet you."

Dana didn't say anything else. She let Sally leave on her own. The air was hot and sticky as she stabbed at the Cobb salad with her fork but her appetite was gone now. The image of the medallion was foremost in her mind. The visions of a life that would never become real, she wouldn't allow it. It was painful to watch. But she thought about it often. Maybe she was making the wrong decision? She thought.

******

Jackson hung from the rafters in the barn screwing in new pieces of sheet rock to the wall. The last few weeks had been quite a display of his stamina and strength. He worked ceaselessly without tiring and managed to heft more weight than he thought possible. He'd extended the hayloft out to cover half of the barn, and he framed the interior walls to fit insulation to keep it warm come winter. It was beginning to look like a home upstairs. He split his days and spent a portion building his furniture. He managed to find a store that was willing to buy some inventory. It wasn't much but it helped.

He'd put the books and medallion out of his mind. It wasn't worth struggling with the weight of the responsibility, and he needed money to live. That couldn't be helped. While he spent his days working, his sister played house. But his dreams always reminded him of what he was ignoring. He tumbled through space each night getting glimpses and snippets of strange places, and the cave kept calling him, beckoning him to return. Every morning he woke up with his sister next to him and pushed it away, pretending it hadn't happened to him.

Stacy walked in through the open barn door with a tray of lemonade. The glass pitcher filled with the refreshing drink, whole slices of lemon floating inside. Two glasses filled with ice, sweating in the heat. Jackson watched his sister as he climbed down from the rafter to the hayloft. She wore a cute green apron, cinched at the waist, with pictures of watermelons patterned across it. It was the only thing she wore except for a pair of high heels that she struggled to balance on. She walked upstairs and set the tray on the bedside table.

"You can't keep walking around like that?" He said gently, not wanting to upset her. "If anyone came by..."

"I know." She squeaked looking down. "I'm sorry." She only wanted to please him. Her mind had been consumed with thoughts of pleasure since he took her that first time, and she grew ever bolder as she vied for him to notice her body. She wanted to be his nasty girl, even thinking about it made her wet.

Jackson poured himself a glass of lemonade and leaned against the bedside table. She watched him sip it, studying his bare chest as she often did. He reached down and unbuttoned his shorts, giving them a tug, and letting them fall to the floor. He was naked underneath. It still made her heart flutter.

"It's delicious." He said. Then he nodded down.

The nod was so simple, Stacy thought. But there was something so powerful in its intent that sent all that heat down between her legs and made her squeeze her thighs together feeling the slick, moist mess of it already. She dropped down onto her knees and lifted his cock in her hands. It felt so good being on the floor in front of him, and she was never sure what part of it she liked the best, if it was the feel of it, the smell of him, or the taste when she wrapped her lips around it. Or maybe it was that everyone would tell her she couldn't, not with him, but he said she could, and then did something like drop his shorts and nod, and it just made her feel on fire.

Stacy thought the sack was just as beautiful as the rest of it. Her hand cupped that first, rolling his balls gently in her hand and licking them. Then she worked her way up his shaft, her tongue following the contour of the veins, until she got to the huge crown of its head. The head was sensitive and she licked it all around before she sucked it into her mouth stretching her jaw wide. No teeth, he often chastised her. She couldn't take him very far into her mouth, but she made sure her tongue was attentive to the part she could fit, paying close attention to the underside where it made him groan the most. Her right hand wrapped around the base of it feeling how thick and hard it got.

Jackson thought she still looked innocent somehow with her mouth stretched around him. It was something in her glassy, blue eyes when she glanced up for approval. She had a soft, submissive nature that stoked his need. He listened to the soft slurping sounds as she worked her way up and down his rigid length. He watched her round ass sitting on her heels and thought about fucking her, but he wanted her mouth. His carnal needs were insatiable since the submersion and the long sleep.

He reached down and pulled his cock from her mouth and slapped it on her cheek and then again on her lips. She whined when he did it. The heavy length made a wet smack when it struck her.

"You like that?" He asked.

"Uh huh." She said with a needy, childish voice.

"Open wide." He watched her stretch her mouth open, her lips forming a wet oval. He pushed his cock in as far as he could, until he felt his girth lodge between her teeth. Then he pulled it back out. Her mouth stayed open and she remained still. He speared it in and out, over and over, and then slapped it on her face. Then he pushed it back in and left it there. "Suck."

Stacy didn't need to be told twice. Her mouth pushed down on it further as the spit gurgled and ran down her chin. It put her in such a state when he used her. It was nasty and he knew what being nasty did to her down there. She bobbed on him more enthusiastically than usual, her free hand working his shaft in long wet strokes.

"Oh shit." He groaned. "That's it. Do you feel it?"

Stacy tightened her grip around his shaft. The muscle pulsed and she nodded her head as she looked up at him with her innocent eyes. She could feel it. His cock pulsed and throbbed. That hot, warm spray was coming, and she wanted it. Her mouth worked as best it could. And then she felt it fill her mouth. Her hand dove down to the wet puddle between her legs while she swallowed and swallowed. And then she shuddered, her own small ripple of pleasure.

Fudge barked outside. He bounded into the barn and sounded the alarm. Jackson always knew when someone stopped in during the day, and preferred to keep the mutt outside.

"You see." Jackson said. "Someone's here. You could have been out there walking around like this. Now you need to get something on." He pulled the tie on the back of the apron and slid it over her head. "Shame as that might be." He pinched her nipples and then bent down on sucked on each one.

Jackson picked up his shorts. But Stacy pulled his hand back toward her. "I love you, Jackson." She whispered, throwing her hands around his neck. "I'm in love with you and I'm happy and I don't feel broken anymore."

"I love you too, squirt." He teased. A dribble of cum hung from the corner of her mouth. "Oops. You missed some. We can't have that there." He took his finger and wiped it away and then Stacy wrapped her lips around it and sucked it cleaned.

She gave him sneer over that nickname, but she just couldn't hold it, and it broke into a wide a smile and then a laugh. She shoved him playfully and found her yellow sundress. He should be the one with that nickname, she thought. She closed her eyes thinking how his cum squirted on the roof of her mouth, the taste still fresh on her tongue. He already had his shorts on and his old sneakers, the ones that he never untied, he just slid into instead, and he was down the stairs with Fudge leading the way in a clumsy charge.

******

"Jackson!" Josh Callaway sprinted down the driveway toward the barn as he was coming out. "Jackson! Jackson!" His little Yankees cap blew off backwards and he had to stop to pick it up.

"Careful, honey." His mother called after him.

Jackson caught him as he ran up and lifted him into the air. "Do I know you?" He asked. "I feel like maybe we've met before."

"Yes!" Josh laughed. "From the hospital, silly!"

"Oh yeah! Josh! Now I remember." He teased setting him down and pulling the lid on his cap down to cover his face. "But I thought you were really sick?"

Stacy came out as Dana and Molly Callaway walked down the gravel driveway. Molly kept walking toward Jackson and Josh. Stacy wasn't sure what to do, so she walked over and said hello Dana.

"I'm not sick anymore!" Josh said excitedly. "I said a prayer to the stars like you told me to. It worked, Jackson! It really worked!"

Stacy looked at Dana. "Did he really do it?" She asked. "I've never asked him. I didn't want to pressure him."

"He did." Dana replied. "But your mother can never know. No one else can ever know. Not until Jackson figures some things out."

"Oh my god. I guess I never really considered it. Was it a miracle? Was it the Lord?"

Dana looked at her. "I think it's more complicated than that. He'll tell you. When the time is right, he'll tell you."

Molly Callaway stared at Jackson holding a tray of fresh baked brownies. He looked up and saw her standing there nervously, as if she weren't sure what to do.

"Hey, Josh, have you met Fudge?" He asked. Fudge squeezed through his legs at the sound of his name. "He's the best dog in the whole world."