The Toynbee Convector

“Jesus,” she said softly, “Jesus.”

“If you knew how often I’ve said that name on this weekend. I’ve never been religious, but all of a sudden, anything, I thought, anything I can say, do, pray, anything. I’ve never cried so much in my life. I’ve never prayed so hard.”

He had to stop talking, as a fresh burst of grief shook his shoulders. When he quieted down, he managed to find and speak the rest in a whisper:

“She’s all right, okay, she came out of it just two hours ago. Shell recover, the doctor is sure. The doctor says. If he gave me a bill for a million dollars right now, I’d spend the rest of my life paying it, she’s worth all that.”

“I know she is. Daughters always are, or most are, for their fathers.”

He sank back in the chair, and she remained crouched by his knees, waiting for him to get his breath. At last, she said:

“How did it happen?”

“One of those stupid things. She put up a flimsy stepladder in the closet to reach some Christmas ornaments. The damn thing broke, she fell and hit her head, hard. We didn’t know. We were in another part of the house. We’ve always respected her privacy. But after an hour, when her door stayed shut and we heard nothing, my wife, for some reason, just went in. All of a sudden, she was yelling. I ran, and there was Beth on the floor, lots of blood, she had struck her head on the edge of a bookcase. I almost fell, getting to her. I tried to pick her up, but suddenly I was so weak I couldn’t even move myself, my God, she felt dead, loose, the way dead people are. I couldn’t feel her pulse, my own was so loud. I somehow found the phone but couldn’t make my fingers work the dial. Clara took the phone away from me and dialed the paramedics. When she got them, I grabbed the phone back, but couldn’t speak, Clara had to tell them— Jesus, I almost cost Beth her We! I was paralyzed. What if I’d been alone? Would I have been able to talk? Would she have died? Without Clara, well, the paramedics were there in five minutes, God bless them, five instead of half an hour. They got Beth to the hospital. I rode along like an extra dead man in the ambulance. Clara followed with the car. At the hospital, they wouldn’t let us see Beth for an hour, they were fighting to save her. When the doctor came out, he said it was touch and go, fifty-fifty for the next day, two days. Think of it... waiting for two whole days, not knowing. We stayed at the hospital until two in the morning, when they made us go home, said they’d call if there was any change. We went home and cried all night. I don’t think we stopped for more than ten minutes at a time. Have you ever cried constantly for a full night, have you ever wanted to kill yourself you were so full of grief? God, we’re spoiled. This was the first real nightmare in all our lives. We’ve always been well, no sickness, no accidents, no deaths. Listen to me! I can’t stop talking. God, I’m tired, but I just had to come see you, Laura.”

“She’s all right, really all right?” said Laura. “She ought to be out and around in about three days, the doctor said.”

“Let me fill that.” She refilled his glass and watched him drink it convulsively, as new tears gathered in her eyes. “I’ve seen your daughter only once, but she was, she is, a sweet girl. No wonder you—”

“No wonder.” He shut his eyes, then opened them at last to look at his mistress. “Do you know what really saved her?”

“The paramedics—*’

“No.”

“Your doctor—”

‘Those all count. But we prayed. We prayed, Laura. And God answered. Something answered. But it happened. I’ve never believed in prayer. I do now.”

He was staring at her intently. She had to look away at last, almost flinching. She twisted her fingers together and looked at them. Her face grew suddenly pale as if she had guessed at something, then put it aside behind her eyes. At last she took a deep breath, glanced quickly at him, and asked:

“What?”

“Eh?” he said.

“What did you pray?” she asked.

“It,” he said, “was not so much a prayer... as... a promise.” Laura grew paler, waited, took a deep breath and asked:

“What did you promise?”

He was not able to answer. Suddenly it was like not being able to dial the phone, then not being able to speak.

“Well?” said Laura.

“I promised God—”

“Yes?”

“That if he saved Beth—”

“That I’d give you up and go away and never see you again!”

It came out in a terrible sighing rush.

“What!?” She sat straight up on the floor, pushed herself back, and stared at him as if he were mad.

“You heard what I said,” he replied, quietly.