The Incubus

Chapter 6, Scene 8

'He's dead, isn't he?' Simon asked the nurse at the hospital's reception. He based his assumption on a feeling that he started having two days earlier. The feeling only intensified and somehow Simon instinctively knew what had happened. She did not answer but merely looked apologetically at Simon. 'Are his parents here?'

She nodded.

Without saying another word, Simon headed for Little Timmy's room. As he opened the door, Simon saw a woman hunched over Timmy. She cried as a man next to her held his arms around her shoulders.

Timmy's parents.

The father looked up as Simon approached the bed, but he didn't say anything. The usual blip on the cardio monitor was gone, replaced only by a blank screen.

'Is he...?'

The father bit his lip and nodded. The mother continued crying. 'And you are...?' the father asked.

'My name is Simon. I am a friend of Timmy's.'

The father raised an eyebrow.

'Well, Timmy never knew me,' Simon said. 'I started visiting him here after reading about his unfortunate accident.'

'You're very kind,' the father said. 'Thank you.'

'Why is she crying?' Simon asked.

The husband frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'What is she crying about?'

The man twisted his face. 'Are you serious?'

Simon didn't say anything.

'Our son is dead, for crying out loud, man! Where's your sense of humanity?'

'Timmy is not dead,' Simon said before he could stop himself from blurting out his thoughts. 'He is merely sleeping.'

The woman looked up. Her eyes were as red as the corners of her nose. She had been crying for quite a while now. Simon could sense that she loved her son dearly.

'Is this some kind of sick joke?' Timmy's father asked.

Simon shook his head. 'It is the will of God that your son should live. For the glory of His name.'

Timmy's father advanced toward Simon at a threatening pace. 'Just who do you think you are to come waltzing in here and say things like this?'

'Let the man speak,' Timmy's mother said.

Simon nodded his thanks at her. 'It is not for man to question the reasons of God, but to obey His wishes.'

'What are you talking about, man?' Timmy's father asked. 'Speak English, for crying out loud!'

Simon merely stared at the man in front of him without saying anything.

'What should we do?' the mother's voice finally cut through the tangible silence.

'Pray,' Simon answered.

'And why should we trust you?' Timmy's father asked. 'How do we know you're not nuts? How much money do you want?'

'I don't seek money,' Simon said. 'Sometimes you have to take a chance, Rick.'

The man froze in place. He narrowed his eyes and studied Simon for a minute. 'How did you know my name...?'

'Sometimes you have to have faith and trust despite the overwhelming odds.'

'How did you know my name?' Timmy's father asked again.

'You're focussing on the wrong issue, Rick. Just like your father made the wrong choice when you were eight years old.'

Rick took a step back. 'You still could still have gotten my name from the hospital staff or the news, but no one knows about that...'

'Pray,' Simon said. 'For the glory of God to be revealed.'

Timmy's father said nothing. He covered his wife's shaking hands in his own.

Simon walked over to the door and closed it. He then made his way back to the bed and stood at Timmy's side. Locking his eyes with that of Timmy's mother, Simon asked, 'Do you believe that Timmy is only sleeping?'

She nodded.

'We do,' Rick Evans answered meekly.

'Do you believe that God can raise him?'

For a moment Timmy's parents just stood there, eyes fixed on this stranger that owed them nothing. Timmy's mother finally managed to pull herself from Simon's hypnotic gaze. 'I...we want to,' she said. 'We really do.'

Simon smiled and leaned forward. He brought his mouth close to the boy's ears. 'Wake up, Tim,' he whispered.

For a moment nothing happened and Tim's father exhaled deeply. He knew it! Another publicity stunt! A beep on the cardio monitor made all three turn and look. The static green line had a spike, and then another, and yet another; each with its own beep.

'What's going on?' Timmy's father asked, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. 'Is this some kind of practical joke?'

Timmy's eyes opened and searched around the room.

Both parents cried out. They held each other before Timmy's mother broke away from her husband and took her boy into her arms.

'Who are you?' Rick asked Simon. 'And what do we owe you?'

Simon didn't answer. He merely looked at the boy. Somehow he knew Tim was going to be okay, but he had no idea how he knew it. He was just as unprepared for what just happened as the parents were and emotions overwhelmed his senses.

'Oh, Timmy,' the mother sobbed and clutched her boy even tighter. 'You're okay.'

Timmy raised a hand to acknowledge that he was indeed all right.

The father turned his attention to his son. 'Hey there, sport!' Rick said. He took his son's hand into his own and for the first time in years, he allowed his tears to flow freely. 'Welcome back, son.'

Rick looked up to thank Simon, but the stranger was gone.