It’d been several hours since the doctors had last seen him. Foster had been trying to sit up for a time. “What is this? Have I died?” he asked. The bout with frailty defeated him, and he sank back on the thin mattress, breathing laboriously.
At this moment, the door opened. A young-looking man in white pants and a multicolored pastel shirt came into the room. The man came to the bed and stood above where Foster lay. His head was bowed, his lithe, athletic body tilted.
“Who are you?” Foster asked, the words dry in his throat.
“Foster?” The man’s blonde hair fell over his forehead as he took a wooden cross and small leatherbound book from his pocket. “Are you Foster? Huh? Foster?”
“That’s my name.”
The man grinned and nodded. “I’m going to pray for a time. I’ve come here to pray?”
“To pray?” Foster shivered.
“I’m a minister.”
“A minister.” Foster shook his head. “I told them to send a priest. Not some minister –”
“I’m a minister.” His words were slurred. “I will pray now.”
A blackish, crimson color came into his face and his hands gripped the cross with such irresponsible ferocity that Foster thought maybe the two wooden pieces would come undone. Laughter then burst from the minister’s throat, and the interior noises of the hospital, the machines, the hollering those dying, of others being saved, all of which had been torturing Foster during these days, were vanquished by the hearty, satisfied sounds of happiness.
“I have some things to confess,” Foster whispered.
“Huh?” The minister looked at him. “I’m praying for you.” He now circled the room with one hand clapped to his cheerful mouth. “I was called here … from a party, you know?”
“A party?”
“They called me from the party. I was called in. And I’m here!” The man coughed and grabbed at a nearby chair. Like a blind man, he felt all over the chair with his hands, straining to bolster himself against it. “Had too much wine. But I’ll be alright. I’ll just sit here for a time. Don’t worry, Foster. You’ll be prayed over … You’re going to a fun party yourself.”
“A party?”
“That’s right. A big bash, with all your friends and family … up there in heaven.”
“I see,” Foster said, looking away.
“Not feeling so hot myself.” The minister flipped through the prayer book, shaking his head as the pages fluttered. “This book will fix me.”
“Will you read it to me?” Foster asked, his voice like a child’s.
“I make the rules here,” the man said, breaking into another fit, the laughing hideous in the quiet room. “Let me read a prayer to you. I’ll read it … once I find it.”
Foster nodded. “Could I make a confession?” He paused. “You know, my life hasn’t been so good. I like to think it has been, that I’ve done right. But I haven’t. I haven’t realized it until the past few days, sitting here in this place, thinking … I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
“Thinking? What’s the point in thinking now?” The minister flipped through the book. Sometimes, he would read a little, or at least allow his eyes to fall upon the words, before either shrugging or smirking, and moving elsewhere. “No point in thinking now.”
“It’s lonely sitting in this room. There’s a lot of thinking and remembering.” Foster stopped. “I have some things to say about my life, some things I’m not so proud of. I want to say something … so that I’m right with God.”
“God will be seeing you shortly.” The man yawned. “That was a fun party. I’ll get back soon … soon as I finish with this … this – Foster? Huh? Is that the name?”
“I’ve tried to live my life in a proper manner,” Foster went on, trying to think. “I didn’t do anything too wrong. But there’s regrets … they weigh on you. I’m tired of –”
“Tired? Hell, I’m tired.”
“Yes, tired of living with weights. All my life. Weights everywhere, pulling me down.”
“I’m so tired I could go to sleep right here.” The minister giggled. “You have it alright. I would sure like a nice, comfortable bed like you have.”
“Please, I don’t have much time – the doctors –”
“Yes, the doctors were worried. They called me and I can right down. I was at a party, you know? It was a nice time, lots of drinks and girls. Lots of fun.”
“I only want to talk a little about some things. Like when I was a child, I once stole some money from my parents. I went on a trip with it. My parents were so disappointed. It’s something I’ve felt guilty about all these years and will – will you pray with me – will you?”
Foster waited. But he quieted, seeing that the man had fallen asleep. There was nothing to do about that. It’d been a long, grey day sitting in this bed. Now, night had come. Then, morning. But he likely wouldn’t see it. The doctors had been determined in their analysis. The nurses had made sure everything was very comfortable.
*