Playing God

Michael’s nineteens keep being memorable.
He’s not okay; there’s a feeling of emptiness, that I-don’t-know-what-to-feel thing creeping up from behind his brain and attacking all his senses. He’s been visiting the grandmother every day after work, because this time the heart attack was stronger and the hospital staff thought it could be better to keep her there under sedatives, but it doesn’t make it easier to Michael. It’s dreadful to deal with that situation, especially with seeing his brother getting downer and downer in his own condition, and it makes Michael very weak at his heart. He finds his strength in his faith and goes to Mass every Sunday to keep believing and praying for everything to be alright.

He goes alone this time because his mother decided not to go back there without Nan getting better, even if Michael tries to convince her to go since not believing can be an offense to God. However, the mother tells him she trusts him to pray enough and save her eventually. Michael knows it’ll probably make Gerard get better too, since he loves Nan so much, so he remains a believer; he maintains his trust in God and His power to help Michael’s family.

Back at home, after Mass, he’s not alone; his father’s at home, in a strange day off, but Michael tries to enjoy his company, even if the father is so quietly reading the news. Michael’s preparing lunch and he hears the phone ringing as he finishes another Holy-song-humming, and soon his father comes to the kitchen with the cordless phone, “It’s Frank.”

Michael looks worriedly at him, looking for any emotions, but his father is just empty and he sighs, bringing the phone to his ear and mouth, to greet, “Hello, Frank.”

“He’s unstable, Mikey,” is the only answer and Michael knows what it is about. He shakes his head, but keeps preparing the lunch and talking to Frank over the phone. He tells Michael how he convinced Gerard to go out with him and visit the grandmother; Gerard agreed and the news makes Michael widen his eyes, because Frank brought his brother out of the basement.

The phone-talk continues, Frank telling Michael that Gerard tried to eat something, forced by Frank’s stubborn care, and also another of their arguments about it, but that he passed out after vomiting. Frank’s worried and those words sting in Michael’s ears, so bad that he wants to break down and cry, or do something crazy. Michael can’t, though, because his family and Frank need him to remain strong and to believe, because that’s the only way they can all help Gerard and Nan to get better and come home to the happiness of a home.

Then, the phone call ends, as Frank announces that Gerard’s waking up and Michael urges him to go help him. He does and the line goes dead, as lunch is finally ready. Michael calls for his father and the meal takes place in peace and silence, the father’s eyes only on his food and Michael’s thoughts revolved around his family scenery and he recognizes it as something practically impossible of being easy to any of the involved. He can’t give up, though; not when Gerard needs someone so much, not when Nan needs everyone’s beliefs. God still needs to save them.

As soon as lunch is over, the father excuses himself out and leaves Michael alone, to take care of cleaning the table and get rid of all the remains of that meal. He feels physically tired and emotionally exhausted when everything is ready, from all those thoughts, feelings, doubts and questions with answers that Michael can’t remove from his mind. The best thing to do, Michael thinks, is to take a nap now that he’s alone at home; or maybe his father is somewhere inside, but the silence is still total. And that’s what he does; Michael goes upstairs to the bathroom and afterwards to his bedroom, when he lied down over the covers and shut his mind off to everything.

--

Waking up isn’t exactly weird for him, not for the dream he knows he had but really can’t remember, but because the silence is still there and Michael feels alone; going to the bathroom again and then downstairs gave him some loneliness, but he thought about the way his family has been loving for the past few years and it is quite relaxing to hear nothing but the soothing wind outside. The rain too.

Michael goes to the kitchen and thinks of where can anybody else be; the father is either somewhere in the house or out drowning himself in work; the mother is certainly at the hospital with Nan, because she’s been by the old lady’s bedside for the past week; Gerard is… definitely with Frank, some place Michael can’t tell, but he’s probably not saying anything as usual and that thought alone makes Michael upset yet again.

He looks, around, thinking his silent calls for divine help, completely focused on what he has to deal with so early in his life. It’s just so complicated and the only thing he can do to help is console the problematic mood, pray inside his head to maintain his faith and wish for the best, asking God the courage to keep fighting and the strength to not turn away. Michael has to do that, his mind focused on many of the wise words from Father Doyen’s sermons; those always give him inner peace and certainly a way to fight back the problems and the casual lack of faith.

So, Michael prays in his mind and he’s willing to keep sacrificing himself, as he tries to think of new ways to do it. He remembers that day’s lunch, for a reason he can’t point out, but something guides him from the inside of his head to the trashcan where the remains of his last meal lay. On his way to that other corner of the kitchen, Michael grabs the salt and has to pass by the fridge, opening it and looking for something he can use. He finds that three-days-old spicy sauce his mother used twice for dinner and splashes it over the food in the trash. Michael feels nauseous from the deep smell of cold food and adds enough salt to poison him and to intensify all the sensations now entering his system. For a moment, he has to look away and close his eyes at the nausea, but soon enough he’s more than ready to give continuity to his most recent plan of sacrifice.

“Praise to You, Lord, as Your mercy is whole and Your compassion is none, to help us and reward us in our good souls,” he whispers within his thoughts and digs with his hands for a piece of the old meal, bringing it to his mouth as his mind focuses on the prayers and on those he wants to be helped.

Michael can’t chew it for long, as his nausea creeps up from his stomach, but he still forces it down with the altered food he chose to eat. He thinks that his pain and the compassion God can’t have will be transformed in a call for help and the Holy Spirit will act over his family, since they’re all under horrible feelings and situations. He can’t hold on for too long, though, even if he tried to chew a second mouthful of his sacrifice for the day, but everything comes out at once and falls back in the trashcan.

He cries out in a despair he knows very well, and his tears fall as he remembers Gerard’s vomiting sessions at night. He just can’t stop the reminiscences, so he seeks for support with his dirty hands and finds the counter, leaning in to it and sobbing in silence. He’s just in inner pain from all the things he has to see in others and can’t take on himself; he wishes he could eliminate Nan, Mom, Gerard and Frank’s deepest frustrations into his lonely heart, but he knows it’s not possible. So, he dries his tears and washes his hands to focus again on believing in God and on His strange ways of comforting and helping all humans, all souls.

**

The next Saturday, Michael’s in the living room by himself, attempting to watch a documentary on the Ballet Academy of St Petersburg and not even he knows why he’s watching that, since he feels just so exhausted due to a lot of things; his job, from nine to six every Monday to Friday; his usual visits to the hospital, especially now that Nan seems to be getting better; his constant trials to get Gerard back to the healthy person he once was. There’s a growing worry in that order of motives and Michael knows that he needs his job to keep himself busy and sane; even his prayers, plus God and His ways of working slowly, are turning Michael into another bundle of nerves that can create a dangerous friction in his brain. He also knows that faith is the only path he knows how to follow and he also trusts God to apply His mercy and Holy Qualities, so he inwardly and secretly knows that everything will be okay.

That’s why, when the documentary is finally over, even if Michael’s mind didn’t let him stay focused for most of it, he stands up, turns off the TV and walks away. He feels tempted to go check on Gerard, but he’s in the basement bedroom and Frank’s there too, the same way he’s always been with Gerard whenever he called for Frank’s presence, so Michael knows they’re okay. He still stops at the basement door, but no sounds erupt from down there, so he doesn’t descend the stairs. He goes to his own bedroom.

As always, he prays, either the common sayings or the occasional request he directs to only God, and he walks to the window, or kneels by the bed and folds his hands together. Many things change except for Michael’s concern and persistence and, at some point, he opens the drawer of his nightstand and grabs the rosary his mother bought him for his first day ever at school, the one with black beads and silver details that he loves to keep close to his chest as he whispers or thinks. Michael doesn’t know how many minutes passed by, but he’s currently looking out of his bedroom window and there are children playing in the neighbor back yard and, suddenly, a door bangs inside the house. Michael is focused on his mental images and prayers, but he still jumps instinctively at the abrupt sound.

“Michael!” he hears the muffled call from downstairs and instantly knows that it’s his mother. “Gerard! Boys!” she continues, apparently hurried, so Michael gets out of his bedroom and goes downstairs.

Frank’s already there and the mother seems too happy, or at least that’s what Michael can deduce from her smile and how tight she’s hugging Frank. It’s very weird because Michael can’t understand why she’s so happy, since her own mother is in the hospital; the weirdest detail, though, is that there is a shadow by the basement door and it seriously looks like Gerard… Gerard!

“Gee?” Michael calls out, voice quivering from the surprise of seeing him out of the basement, or almost, since he’s just by the door leading downstairs, as if to make sure that he can descend them quickly when necessary. Michael brings his rosary to his chest and squeezes it, plays with the beads with both hands, ready to ask Gerard if he’s alright, since his shadow looks so scarily thin.

“I’m glad you’re all here,” the mother says enthusiastically, breaking Michael’s attempt to speak, but creating a new frown on the top of his face.

“Why are you so happy?” Frank asks simply, because that’s how he is. Blunt. “What happened?”

Michael is not that enthusiastic about it. “Yeah, how can you be so happy with Gerard only in the shadows, looking so sick, and Nan in the hospital almost dy-“

“Michael, they woke her up!” she announces, calmly, but grinning. Michael sees Frank smiling, before she speaks again, “And she’s stable again. Her heart healed!” The mother seems very happy, goosebumps of excitement on her hands, sparkles in her eyes and that contented smile inhabiting her face. She’s so beautiful and Michael smiles, celebrating that and the great news she brought from the hospital.

Frank says something that Michael can’t understand, because he’s already turning around and practically running to embrace Gerard and whisper something in his ear. Michael imagines something along the lines “I told you she would get better…” because he can see the brother smiling slowly and softly through the corner of his eye, when he happily receives his mother’s body in his embrace.

“I prayed so hard,” Michael says to the mother’s hair, loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room; “And for so long for this moment and it finally happens.” No one knows how hard he’s squeezing the rosary in his hands, but he can feel the beads almost breaking his skin with their touch.

“It’s like a miracle,” he concludes, and the mother nods.

**

The next day is a Sunday.

Michael wakes up to a sound he doesn’t recognize, but he doesn’t open his eyes until his memories remind him of what day it is and of what happened recently. The images hit him, then, and he recalls how his mother was happy because Nan is stable again; how they all went to the hospital, but didn’t get to talk to the grandmother – she looked better, anyway; how he pretended to eat everything for dinner when the truth was that he ate only half of it; and finally Michael recalls how he prayed again until late hours of the night, because there’s still one pending situation.

“Mikey?” he hears and shifts on the bed, eyes still closed. He recognizes the voice calling him, even if it was only a whisper, and it surprises him. Can it be-

“Gee?”

“Come, Mikey. Wake up or we’ll be late,” Gerard says in his normal tone now, one hand over Michael’s shoulder, because he’s lying on his side.

Michael opens his eyes and Gerard looks blurry in front of his eyes because he already knows that the trick is to get his glasses, so he does and, then, he’s looking at a proper image of his brother. “Where-” he yawns, totally not expecting that to interrupt his question. He sits on the bed, at last; “Where are we going?”

“Today’s Sunday, Mikey,” Gerard says with a little smile Michael terribly missed until today. Gerard’s eyes are shining awkwardly, as though a new sparkle lives inside his heart and mind, now that they know about Nan’s recover. “We’re going to Mass. Hurry.”

Michael blinks and tilts his head to one side. “You’re going to Mass?”

“Yes,” the brother replies contentedly. “Nan woke up and she’s okay, even if this was her second heart attack in nothing more than four months. She’s alive and healthy again, and there’s someone I’ve gotta thank,” he finishes and Michael smiles along with him. There’s an enormous glint of hope at the back of his brain because Gerard looks immediately better than when Nan was sick. It must be a sign that everything definitely will be alright.

The routine is the usual, only a bit quicker because they’re close to be late; Michael goes to the bathroom and back to the bedroom to get dressed; then, he goes downstairs to the kitchen where Gerard already is. He’s slicing an apple and Michael sighs at the remembrance, before speaking:

“Aren’t you gonna eat it all?” Gerard looks up at him, knife in one hand, half an apple in the other, and says nothing. Michael knows what it means; Gerard’s not going to eat it. So, Michael insists: “Please, Gerard, it’s only an apple.” He walks closer to the older brother and grabs the hand holding the knife, discarding it on the table and enlacing their fingers. “Don’t do it for me; do it for Nan. Do you think she will like to know what you’ve been doing to yourself?”

The two brothers stare at each other for a long second, or maybe five, not saying anything and not expressing any emotions. Michael’s mind is full with those unpleasant images from the past, and the horrible image of a thin Gerard from the present, and the unthinkable possibility for the future; everything, though, is mixed with hope and with a silent wish for Gerard to finally change. And he starts doing it, much for Michael’s delight, by nodding and letting his brother watch him as he slowly eats the single piece of fruit. They smile.

--

Mass goes normally; Michael is very attentive and Gerard follows his every movement, clearly trying to behave properly even if it’s still too calm for his troubled mind, as he usually says. The short sermon is about choices, and being called by God to do what people’s souls can do best, and Michael listens hungrily as always, but he can also see that Gerard’s very interested in what Father Doyen says about fulfilling a chosen mission on earth to be respected among the others. Michael can’t avoid his caring smile when Gerard catches him staring intently and the older brother nods in response and gets up, because the sermon is finished.

Later, there’s communion and Michael asks Gerard if he wants to go; he closes his eyes and seems to hesitate, as Michael can see his regular breaths being shortened and quickened. He says, “God understands if you’re not ready,” and Gerard nods and sits, as Michael goes to line. His eyes don’t leave the brother until he meets the Church minister and answers with the whisper of “Amen,” to the call of the Body of Christ. He goes back to his seat and feels Gerard’s eyes on him as he chews and swallows; Michael doesn’t look back, afraid of embarrassing Gerard or leaving him uneasy, but he looks out for Gerard’s hand with his own and grasps them together. Gerard squeezes back and he never lets go until Mass is over.

--

Back at home, they’re not alone. The mother is there and she asks about their destination, widening her eyes and smiling happily at Gerard’s answer and reasoning. While they talk in the kitchen, Michael and the mother prepare lunch, and Gerard tries to help, but everyone knows he can’t exactly be helpful at cooking, so he gets only minor duties. The rest of it is calm and silent, with Gerard eating the minimum to satisfy his family, but not his stomach, because he knows it won’t be easy to deal with food; however, Michael asks him to try harder and eat, again for their grandmother, and Gerard concedes. He’s eating.

The brothers agree to clean the table and tidy the kitchen, as the mother goes to take a shower, because they’re going to the hospital later; Michael isn’t completely happy with that choice because now he will have to be careful to not let Gerard see what Michael’s napkin trick has been. After all, he was trying to convince Gerard to eat something and get his health back, but Michael’s method is to sacrifice himself through hunger because he knows God will give him hope and results after his efforts. He succeeds in taking the food in the napkin to the trashcan.

Gerard decides to interrupt his activities for a moment to ask: “Mikey, is Mass always that comforting?”

Michael smiles, because he can’t help it. That question, coming from Gerard, means a lot, because the older brother has never been a believer and it may mean that he enjoyed Mass today and wants to go back. Michael encourages him with a “Of course, Gee; it’s God’s words, explained to us.”

“So, is that why you go to Church on Sundays?”

“Exactly,” Michael answers, putting the dishes down to stare properly at Gerard; “I also go there to be with God, in family, with all the believers whom I see as my brothers in faith.”

“But not everyone goes to Mass…”

“That’s true, but they’re welcome to go there anytime,” Michael says, re-starting what they were doing before. “God and the Brothers will always be welcoming; they can always come.”

“To be with God and pray to Him…” Gerard says only, in some sort of a questioning tone.

“Yes,” Michael complies; “And to believe in His majesty and every other Holy Qualities none of us can ever achieve, or even imagine properly.”

Then, they remain quiet for some time, never stopping what the mother left them to do, until Gerard interrupts again, “Mikey, why wasn’t I ready to take communion?”

“I don’t know, Gerard,” Michael responds honestly and stares deep into Gerard’s shiny eyes. He’s thinking about what to say on the matter of Communion. And it takes time.

“Sacramental bread, commonly called ‘Host’ for the Priest and ‘wafer’ for the communicants, represents the body of Christ, meaning that we’re all equals by taking it; there’s a mention in the Bible saying that those who eat the body of Christ are one with him, because Christ’s in their souls and vice-versa. I believe in that and it comforts me, to be equal with everyone else.” He pauses to swallow the dryness of his throat and notice how Gerard looks so attentive. Michael smiles, thinking that he really is making Gerard believe in God’s Holy Powers; he’s happy.

“Plus, I take it gratefully because God’s my Father and Friend and, whenever I go to a friend’s house and they offer me food of any kind, it’s polite to accept at least the minimum of it. So, I think you still need to trust God and to believe in His good intentions to feel ready for his food.”

Gerard thinks for a moment and, then, he just asks: “What does Christ taste like?”

Michael reflects on that and it’s a very intriguing question, but since Gerard isn’t a believer, he sure can ask it. He finishes cleaning the counter and turns to Gerard, who’s closing the door of the dish-washer. “It doesn’t have any taste, Gee, but that’s a curious question. You should ask it to Father Doyen; I’m intrigued about what his answer would be…” Michael trails off, but then he says, “Well, Christ tastes like nothing because his Body isn’t food for our bodies; Sacramental bread is just water and flour, but it’s a wonderful provision for our souls. Remember, who eats the body of Christ-”

“Is one with Him.”

“Exactly, in a deeply spiritual way. And since it’s the immediate food the Holy Spirit has to offer to us, we take it gratefully because it can clean us up from the inside. And apart from that, God gives us His best friendship, His hope, His mercy; His everything.”

“But why does he do that when humans tend to be so mean and disrespectful?” Gerard intervenes.

Michael smiles. “Gee, you can’t forget that He made us that way, so that we experience the two sides of the world. He wanted to give us Paradise, a perfect place to be in with everything we could always want, but He also gave us free-will. God gave us a choice and we follow our own path; why do you think I see no harm in your relationship with Frank, for example? Because God gave you an opportunity to choose and you took it freely; He’s testing you and if you remain faithful to who you are, to your truest and, who knows, most cruel self, He will see right through you.”

Gerard doesn’t look like he understands, so Michael makes it simpler. “You are what God made of you. Believe in that forever, Gee; believe in yourself and believe in Him, take His advice, follow His orders. God means no harm to you.” Michael enjoys his reasoning, because it’s what he truly thinks, but also because he can see how thoughtful Gerard is, and there’s a small hint of a smile on Gerard’s lips.

So Michael concludes, “Follow Him and He will pay back in-”

“In good things?” Gerard questions and he smiles a bit more when Michael nods. “Like Nan?”

“Exactly, Gerard, and keep in your mind that she always believed too,” Michael tries telling Gerard the truth. “She believed in you too, when she taught me to be a good Catholic. She-”

“I think you saved her,” Gerard interrupts, a serious expression on his face again while Michael shows him a questioning look. Gerard responds immediately. “I know you prayed for her all the time and I think it helped her.”

“I was only talking to God,” Michael clarifies, even if he enjoyed what Gerard said about him and his prayers. “He’s a great friend and I asked for His help, believed in Him and He helped us, because He knows how much we love and need Nan,” he smiles softly.

“You saved her, anyway, maybe indirectly, but you did.” Gerard hugs Michael, holding him tight with a pair of arms wrapped around Michael’s shoulders. Michael hugs back before the rest of it; “You’re the best brother ever.”

Michael thinks about that and he swallows hard as the silence gives him the opportunity to seek for Gerard’s body; the first thing he feels is Gerard’s torso and not even the fabric of the t-shirt he’s wearing is enough to cover the bones poking out of the skin. Michael can feel Gerard’s ribs and those last words float around in his mind. You’re the best brother ever. Pulling away from the embrace, he answers, “Not if I don’t save you.”

The brothers find each other’s eyes and focus on that for a moment; Michael knows there’s hurt and worry in his own, because that’s what is flooding him right now, and he can read Gerard’s confusion, emptiness and, then, some anger.

“I don’t need to be saved,” Gerard says sternly and walks away, creating a tense ambiance between them. Michael is left in the kitchen, tears practically threatening his eyes, so he shakes his head until they go away and until he hears his mother’s voice. It’s clear that she’s out of the shower and ready to go see Nan at the hospital.

**

Later, already at night, Michael goes to his bedroom after another fake dinner, where Gerard wasn’t at all, and everything he wants is to go to bed early because the rest of the afternoon was tense in his head. And also because he has to work tomorrow, but his job isn’t exactly what Michael has in mind. It’s Gerard because, now that Nan is better, the brother must get better too.

The only thing Michael can think of doing at the moment is praying; he remembers how it worked with the mother when he was very young, and on a random week of snow in the past, and he recalls Gerard’s words of how he saved Nan that second time and it fulfills him. He seriously starts thinking that those events happened due to his conversations with the Father he admires so much.

So, Michael prays and talks directly to the Holy Spirit he feels everywhere he goes; if someone walks by his bedroom will hear him and find him mad, but he truly isn’t.

The beautiful moon comes in from the still open window and Michael wants to see it, but his eyes are incredulous; he doesn’t see the neighborhood, but a lake without end and Christ, the figure from all the catechisms that have rested in Michael’s hands; he’s dressed in his white tunic as he walks over the water. Michael’s a believer and Christ wants him to have that vision, so it has to be a good sign, Michael thinks. He prays once more, harder and louder, almost talking to his vision, and Christ stops, turns around and smiles at Michael.

He’s just so astonished that he can’t exactly think, so he decides to finish his prayer, just before someone knocks. He opens the door after the vision fades away; he’s just… fulfilled.