The Lazarus Mouse

Sunday


Jesus came today while I was playing in the yard.

My hands were all dirt and sand so I didn't offer him a handshake like you're supposed to.

He had on his white robes, just like in the pictures, and he walked like there was nothin’ to it.

You'd never have guessed he'd been dead an' all.

Real dead. Dead where your eyes can't follow the light no more and your mouth just hangs.

His mouth was smiling, but he didn't say nothin’.

Inside, Momma was rockin’ the baby. Dodi was crying and crying but I had to tell what I saw.

Momma said I was lying. That Jesus ain’t coming to Coyanosa any time soon.

But she didn't see him.

Next time he comes, I'll holler.



Monday


My friends at school didn't believe me neither.

We had show and tell, where we stand in front of the whole class and talk about our weekend.

I told ‘em it was the same as any other, 'cept for Jesus.

Tommy Lindsay pointed at me and asked how come we weren't at church Sunday, that we ain’t been since the end of last year.

My teacher, Mr Churley, a nervous sorta fella, seemed to curl into himself.

December was when my daddy died.

"Why would Jesus show up at yer house? Doesn't make alotta sense t'me."

"He can show up where he likes", I said. But they kept on squawking anyhow.

I flapped my arms like a laying hen ‘til they shut their mouths.

"I'll prove it to you. He'll come see all of us."

Mr Churley told me enough, told to sit down and be quiet.

"He'll be in the playground after final bell. Y'hear?"

The next few hours were stones skipping across the Pecos river, bouncing and bouncing but not quite gettin' nowhere.

The kids in my class whispered loud so I could hear.

She's crazy, just like her Pa.

I heard her whole family's headed straight for the asylum.

What's an asylum?

You know. Some place they don't let you out, least til they can fix your brain.

Then she ain’t never gonna leave.

I turned to face the window, but my reflection didn’t comfort me none. There was a streak of dirt on the side of my nose that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard I rubbed. I saw then, it was the glass that was dirty, not me. I stared right through.

The slide out back shone 'neath the white hot sun. I knew it was bound t'be pure hellfire on bare legs.

Down below was a patch of sand to soften your landing. In the shadow of the slide I caught a glimpse of a small grey foot sticking outta the sand.

I knew just what to do. I knew what he was gonna do, all he needed was a prop. Like in our school nativity. There'd have been no baby Jesus if Mrs Crane hadn't loaned us that sack of flour, even if there were beetles crawling up inside its guts.

When the bell came alive, so did I, jumpin' from my seat and racing off t'ward the playground. The thing was dead when I scooped it up, but the maggots hadn't gotten to it yet.

The class gathered around me, even those I was sure would run straight home and snitch to their parents. God fearin’. That’s what Momma called them.

"So?" It was the tallest of the bunch. "When's he gonna get here?"

I had no answer, ‘cept to stand there.

We waited a couple minutes while the sun gave us grief. Some of the kids would get a beatin' if they didn't make it home on time, or meet their brother on the corner by the Dispensary. And I would get their dose of beatin'.

I can't tell you how, but I knew Jesus was gonna come. It had been the same in the yard. The air pressing down and the ground turning soft as smoke while everything around it stuck still. Like the whole town was just some backdrop in a Western.

Tommy Lindsay opened his big fish mouth to call me a liar, but he never did say the word. They were all staring hard, staring past me.

He had come, just like I said. And he was smiling his Saviour Smile.

I moved silently, holding the mouse at arm's length. Jesus knelt so that he would not parent over me. His face was still, like a doll's. He took the mouse, they could all see it was a dead thing, and covered it with his hand.

We all just about lost our senses when the creature poked its head out between his thumb and pointin' finger, and came to settle on his sleeve.

One of the kids cried out for me to catch him, that we could take him to Mr Churley for a class mascot.

I crept after the little guy, who had leapt onto the grass verge nearby, and he slowed for me.

Crouching low and steady, I looked up at Jesus. His face was so smooth, almost a mask. He smiled his Saviour Smile, but this time there was a flicker, like a TV when its wires get crossed.

I could be sure no one else saw what I saw. They were far too busy taking turns to pet the mouse, before hurrying him inside, curious what our teacher would make of his resurrectin'.

I thanked Jesus. Not for the mouse, but for takin' away my crazy.

He didn't say nothin', but his face flickered again. Fuzzin' like flies swarming a hunk of meat. 

For a moment, I peeked behind the mask. It was darker than dreaming of blindness and waking in your empty bed. It was worse than havin' no family at all.


Saturday

I keep on thinking I can hear Dodi crying.

She always cries for food around midnight. But there ain’t no Dodi to be cryin'. There's only me and Momma, and she's just standin' there staring. Her arms swaddling air.

I told her he was back, but she didn't believe me. Not until she saw his face, and the great thing lifting outta the dirt like an airplane risin' from a jungle wreck. Not until she saw beyond the saviour smile into the darkest space there ever was.

She's talkin' now, but it doesn't make much sense t'me. Keeps on repeating my Daddy's name. Does she think he can hear her, all the way out there?

Tomorrow's Sunday. Maybe we'll go to church. I think he'd like that.