Of all this Cole has memories, including one of his parents discussing, over bagels and chai, whether bringing back orphanages had been a good idea or a bad one. Cole"s father said it made sense that it would be easier to monitor children who were in public inst.i.tutions rather than in private foster homes, and that the group homes were probably the least bad solution to a terrible social dilemma.
"Maybe. But I can"t imagine any sensitive kid surviving in a place like that," said Cole"s mother. And she had glanced at Cole, sitting across the table.
Once, in downtown Chicago, Cole had seen a giant poster with a picture of the handsomest man in the world. It was a sight that had made his heart beat faster, and he had thought how, with a face like that-with such a strong mouth and jaw and such smooth bronze skin-and with such perfectly square shoulders filling out a uniform, you could be anything you wanted to be. Cole wanted to be a superhero. And later that day, he had told his mother what he had decided. He would join the Marines. They were sitting at the same table and in the same chairs, and it was the same look Cole saw on his mother"s face both times. As though a voice had shrieked from the sky, and only she heard.
AT FIRST, TRACY IS EXCITED about her new job. "But you"ve got to be patient with me. It"s a long time since I was in school myself, and I can"t say I was the sharpest knife in the drawer back then. Not that I"m saying I"m the sharpest knife in the drawer now. Oh, will you just listen to me! Anyhoo, I will pray for guidance."
And she does pray, of course-just as Cole prays, every morning before they begin, thanking G.o.d for whatever portion of his truth will be revealed in that day"s lessons.
In what way Jesus answers Tracy"s prayers about homeschooling Cole cannot tell. But there is ample help from other sources. Most families in Salvation City are following the Christian homeschooling curriculum, and other parents are happy to give advice or to pa.s.s on whatever materials they might have used when their own kids were in Cole"s grade.
But the growing pile of books and study guides and worksheets and tests only makes poor Tracy"s head spin.
For moral support she turns to Adele, one of the women in her Bible group, a grandmother who once taught kindergarten and has homeschooled four children herself.
"I don"t know, Adele. They say it"s best to do a little bit of each subject every day, but if we"re supposed to do math and science and social studies and language arts-which at first I didn"t even know what it was-a little of each still adds up to a heck of a lot."
The trick, says Adele, is to be creative. "That way Cole won"t get bored. Like, take medieval times. You don"t want to sit there teaching him a mess of dull facts that aren"t going to stick in his head anyway. But he likes to draw, right? So have him draw a medieval castle, you know, with the moat and turrets and all."
"Oh, I think he"d like that."
"And when you"re doing the Civil War you can have him watch an episode of the old Ken Burns doc.u.mentary. Then, for a writing a.s.signment, he can pretend he"s a soldier writing a letter home to his family."
Tracy is most anxious about teaching her own worst subject in school: math. But Adele says just because a person is bad at math doesn"t mean he or she can"t teach it. "You can go on the Web and print out the worksheets for square roots, say, and you can print out a quiz with the answer key. I"m no math whiz myself, but how do you think I got my own kids all the way through calculus?"
"Calculus!" Tracy yelps, as if it were the name of a lion to which the Romans were about to throw her.
"Oh, come on, girl," Adele says, laughing. "You know you"re never on your own in Salvation City. You need any help, all you got to do is ask. And remember, if the Lord wants you to be doing this-and you know that he does-then you know he"ll light up a way."
And it"s true that, although Tracy is his main teacher, at least some days during the week Cole finds himself in a group cla.s.s taught by one of the other grown-ups. For these cla.s.ses the children usually meet at the church, where there might be a video or a talk on a special topic. One of the first topics is "Evolution or Not," taught by a guest speaker from the Creation Museum in northern Kentucky. But by now Cole has studied Genesis with PW and he doesn"t learn much of anything new. Another time Adele shows them a video about preborns. There are photos showing babies who, though still seven months from coming into the world, have tiny eyes and noses and ears and mouths, and stubby little arms and legs, and hearts that beat strong. They look to Cole like cute little dolphins, and when he remembers how he and the other boys used to call some girls PBs he is ashamed. As he is ashamed when he remembers Ms. Mark and how much he used to hate and make fun of her. He wonders if she has pa.s.sed.
And when, like every other boy or girl in the room, he is called on to answer the question "Would you yourself be willing and able to murder one of these innocent babies?"-like every other boy or girl in the room, Cole answers no.
But something funny has occurred to him. If Jesus was a baby, does that mean he was once a fetus, too?
Absolutely, says PW. Jesus was a fetus. "When G.o.d sacrificed his son he made him live through all the stages: conception, birth, childhood, manhood, death. Otherwise Christ couldn"t have been fully human and and fully divine. And, of course, he was as much the Christ at the moment of conception as he was at the moment of birth. And it"s the same for every human being." fully divine. And, of course, he was as much the Christ at the moment of conception as he was at the moment of birth. And it"s the same for every human being."
Cole pictures the Bible that belonged to his parents, its place on a shelf with other big books: reference books. He remembers his father saying that a person couldn"t understand the history of art without some knowledge of the Bible. He remembers his parents and some of their friends playing charades one night after a dinner party, his father having to act out "My G.o.d, my G.o.d, why hast thou forsaken me?"
He has no idea how much of the Bible either of his parents had read, but he knows that the things that are sacred in Salvation City were never important to them. What Jesus said on the cross, what happened to the preborn, these were not matters of concern to them.
His parents did not know the truth. They lacked the information. There was no one like Pastor Wyatt to explain the Good News to them. Cole does not understand why it had to be this way. Now that he knows the story of Jesus by heart, he loves Jesus, but he does not believe his parents were treated fairly. Whenever he thinks about it, it"s as if some spiny, muscular creature begins thrashing around inside him. He would like to talk about it, about why G.o.d would have wanted to save him but not his mother and father. He would ask PW, he would even ask Tracy, except it"s as if there was an agreement among them not to talk about his parents. Cole has the feeling that, if he himself didn"t bring them up now and then, his parents would never be mentioned again. Whenever he starts talking about his life before Salvation City, everybody acts as if the room had suddenly turned too hot or too cold. Now he is learning to be silent. But the spiny, muscular creature goes on thrashing inside him.
Tracy says, "I love this great big beautiful world and I know my life has been blessed. But when I see what"s happening out there, all the violence and greed and perversion, well, I understand why it"s time for this chapter of the story to end. I want to go where evil can"t get its filthy hoof in the door. I want to be with all the people I"ve ever loved and all the good folks that ever lived, all of us happy together forever with the angels and saints and the Lord."
Everyone in Salvation City talks about being rapture ready. They even joke joke about it. ("Don"t cry. It"s not like it"s not the end of the world.") They talk about the Second Coming and the Resurrection and being reunited with loved ones who"ve already gone home. about it. ("Don"t cry. It"s not like it"s not the end of the world.") They talk about the Second Coming and the Resurrection and being reunited with loved ones who"ve already gone home.
Mason tries to comfort Cole. How did they know his mother and father hadn"t seen the light? Who was to say that, at the very last minute, they hadn"t taken Jesus into their hearts? How could anyone say for sure that wasn"t the way it went down?
Cole could say. For sure, his parents had not done that. And Mason cannot tell a lie. Unless that miracle occurred, Cole"s parents would never be with G.o.d. And he opens the Bible to John 14:6 to show him where it is written.
He cannot bring himself to believe that his parents are in h.e.l.l. It is very different from believing that they are not in heaven. He can understand why those who had never accepted or worshipped G.o.d would not ever be permitted to meet him. But it maddens Cole that anyone would think his parents deserved to be punished for not knowing Christ. The Christians he has met are not better people than his mother and father. Some of them, like Mason, have done things worse than anything his parents had ever done. Cole does not understand how, after Judgment Day, the saved are going to be happy in heaven knowing that at every moment they are enjoying themselves billions of other people are being horribly tortured. Wouldn"t that be incredibly mean and selfish of them? He wonders if G.o.d intends to wipe the knowledge of h.e.l.l from the minds of the saved in the way that, before the Fall, he kept Adam and Eve from knowing about evil. But that is another puzzle. If Adam and Eve knew nothing of evil, how could they have known right from wrong? And if they didn"t know right from wrong, how could they sin?
"You"re overthinking," PW tells him. "Which is one very good way of keeping the Lord at a distance."
Instead of overthinking, Cole is supposed to pray. But prayer does not come easily to him. It"s not just that his mind tends to wander, as it did during mindfulness training. It"s that it always feels more as if he was talking to himself or to the air than to G.o.d. He certainly has a very hard time believing G.o.d is listening. Besides, he is never sure what to pray for.
"Well, what would make you happy?" says PW. "Part of your prayers should always be telling G.o.d what your hopes are." But what if his hopes are against G.o.d"s rules? What if his hopes are that h.e.l.l doesn"t exist, and that if it does exist his parents are nowhere near there?
"Think of all the things that had to happen in order for you to end up here with us," says PW. "Then tell me you don"t see G.o.d"s work in that." Cole knows what PW is saying. He has felt it, too: some kind of force, some hand. His coming to Salvation City has never felt to him like an accident. But he is full of questions and doubts. And since he can tell the others do not feel what he is feeling, he thinks this must mean he is unsaved. At his worst moments he is afraid that he accepted Jesus not out of faith but to please Pastor Wyatt. He is not a true believer. He became a Christian because he did not see how he could stay in Salvation City if he didn"t.
He fills the moat with crocodiles. He draws a little medieval child about to fall in. A guardian angel poised on a turret, ready to swoop down.
WHEN THE PLAGUE STRUCK Salvation City, Tracy had not been among those who were pa.s.sed over. Like Cole, she"d had a brush with death. One morning, when they were supposed to be studying tectonic plates, she told him all about it.
"It was touch-and-go with me for about two weeks. The way I felt was worse than being sick with the cancer. What it was really like was chemo. I was weak and dizzy as a top and I kept throwing up. And I remember it was just like I was dreaming, even when I was awake. I knew I should be praying nonstop, but there were times when I was just too sick. And though I always put my trust in G.o.d, I tell you, I was scared. You know, it wasn"t as bad here as it was in some other places, but there were plenty of folks who didn"t make it through, and some of the ones that did make it have never been the same.
"I remember lying there in my sopping sheets and starting to panic because I was having so much trouble breathing. And this great shivering took ahold of me, really like some kind of fit, and I had room for only one big thought and it was that my time had come. I tried to call WyWy but all I got out was a squeak. It was daytime, but all of a sudden the room got way dark, like night. Next thing I felt myself being sucked through that darkness, like a train racing top speed through a tunnel. Then I burst out the other end into this flashing light, which I knew right off was a holy light. And standing right in the middle of that light I saw him."
Holding up his hand like a traffic cop.
"Like, not so fast, ma"am!"
It was the second time Christ had appeared to her. The first time, she was in the hospital and had just had surgery.
"Only that time it was was night and I was lying there wide awake. It"s not like the doctors were mean to me but they didn"t hide the bad news, either. I remember I turned my face to the wall and started crying harder than I"ve ever cried in my life. And then someone turned on the light. Or at least that"s what I thought at first. Then I rolled over and saw him." night and I was lying there wide awake. It"s not like the doctors were mean to me but they didn"t hide the bad news, either. I remember I turned my face to the wall and started crying harder than I"ve ever cried in my life. And then someone turned on the light. Or at least that"s what I thought at first. Then I rolled over and saw him."
He was sitting in the visitor"s chair by the bed.
"That really got to me, how he was sitting there with his legs crossed like any ordinary dude, except for the awesome light. And even before he said a word, I stopped crying. My family always loved me, and from the time they knew I was sick they were right there, doing everything they could for me. But nothing they ever did brought me anything like the peace I felt then. It was just a whole "nother scale. I still thought I was going to die, but now I was ready."
Except what Jesus had come to tell her was a different story.
"You know me, CoCo, I got a memory like a sieve. But even though I didn"t write them down, I never forgot his words. "Your name is written in the book of life, and the day is near when you will be with me forever. But that time has not yet come. Do not be afraid of the suffering you will have to endure." He was talking about the pain and the horrible chemo and the fact that I"d never be able to have a baby.
"I was raised to believe in G.o.d, and I always went to church and said my prayers and tried to be a good person. But back then, I confess, whole days would go by without my giving much thought to Christ. But ever since then I have felt him right here, and I have always trusted him. That"s how I beat the cancer. I put my faith in his love, and in the end I got my reward. G.o.d sent me the best husband a woman could ever have, and then he sent us you."
Cole wants to know what Jesus looked like. Tracy laughs and pinches his cheek. "Like himself, silly puppy. Who else?"
Later, when he is alone, Cole ponders Tracy"s story. To him it is not a comforting story. It is a splinter in his heart. I was raised to believe in G.o.d, and I always went to church and said my prayers. I was raised to believe in G.o.d, and I always went to church and said my prayers. Tracy had already accepted Jesus Christ. Her name was already written in the book of life. So why did Jesus choose to appear to her, and not just once but twice? Cole"s parents had not been raised to believe in G.o.d. His parents were not redeemed. Hadn"t they needed to see Jesus a thousand times more than Tracy did? Tracy had already accepted Jesus Christ. Her name was already written in the book of life. So why did Jesus choose to appear to her, and not just once but twice? Cole"s parents had not been raised to believe in G.o.d. His parents were not redeemed. Hadn"t they needed to see Jesus a thousand times more than Tracy did?
And if Jesus could cure Tracy of cancer and and the flu, why couldn"t he cure Cole"s mother and father of just the flu? Why couldn"t he cure even one of them? the flu, why couldn"t he cure Cole"s mother and father of just the flu? Why couldn"t he cure even one of them?
Which one? A voice so silky and sly it had to be the devil"s, and Cole was afraid. He knew he should have called on Jesus then, he should have started praying. But he could not. He was too angry, and Jesus was too far away. A voice so silky and sly it had to be the devil"s, and Cole was afraid. He knew he should have called on Jesus then, he should have started praying. But he could not. He was too angry, and Jesus was too far away.
Instead, he did something he had not done in a while. He went to the upstairs bathroom and took from a shelf the jar of cream that PW used on his hands. He felt sneaky and not a little disgusted with himself, noiselessly uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the cap and taking deep whiffs, like some kind of junkie. Not for the first time, he wondered how many secrets a person could have and still be a good person.
But the magic worked. The familiar vanilla balm spread through him. The splinter was still in his heart, but for a moment, at least, he felt comforted.
Besides the group cla.s.ses, there are other activities, like softball and swimming, that bring homeschooled children together each week. There are field trips: the Creation Museum, Old Settlers" Village, the House of Rocks and Minerals, the snake farm. In good weather they go hiking or spelunking, and now that the baseball and racetrack museums in Louisville are open again (they"d been closed during the flu), there are plans to visit them soon.
Cole doesn"t usually enjoy these outings. (In the past he"d always tried to get out of cla.s.s trips, and these days he"d rather stay home and draw.) But better to be with the others than alone with Tracy (herself only too glad not to be teaching on her own).
Cole gets along with the children he meets in Salvation City, though he has yet to make best friends with any of them. He has never been the kind of person who makes friends right away or has more than one or two close friends at a time. Once he"d started middle school his parents had worried that he was too shy. One day his father said, "You know, they have some great medications for shy people now, especially shy kids." The very suggestion had brought on revulsion and paranoia (pharma mind control? no thanks), and Cole was relieved that his mother had not been on his father"s side in this. But it had always bothered him. He had always thought it was his father"s way of saying he wished Cole was more popular.
There had been an even worse period of time, before Cole got to middle school, when it seemed that almost everything he did got on his father"s nerves. It was during this time that Cole began to suspect that when his father was a kid, he might have been a bully. His mother tried to explain. "Dad"s one of those people who"s never quite sure how to be around children, maybe partly because he was an only child himself." The good news was that as Cole grew older, things would be different. "You"ll see. You and Dad are just going to get closer and closer." And Cole had believed her. He knew what she was saying, and that lots of men couldn"t connect with their sons until the sons were almost men themselves. And now he felt bitterly cheated.
But-in his own eyes anyway-he had never actually been the pathetically shy loner his parents were worried about. If he hadn"t been exactly popular, or even part of any crowd, that didn"t mean he was a total reject, either. The hardest part had been knowing how disappointed his father was that Cole wasn"t the kind of kid he he had been: good at school (not a grind but a great tester), good at sports. Cool. He knew that both his parents would probably have been less worried if he"d cared more about being popular himself, but most of the time he did not. He saw himself as part of the large herd-one of those kids, in between the mad cool and the loser geeks, who might as well have put on magic invisible-making hats when they got up in the morning-and he accepted that. had been: good at school (not a grind but a great tester), good at sports. Cool. He knew that both his parents would probably have been less worried if he"d cared more about being popular himself, but most of the time he did not. He saw himself as part of the large herd-one of those kids, in between the mad cool and the loser geeks, who might as well have put on magic invisible-making hats when they got up in the morning-and he accepted that.
In Salvation City, things were different. To be sure, not all kids were equal. There were apocalyptic girls, there were alpha boys, and there were rapture children. But that didn"t make everyone else invisible. And the ones who would have been called rejects and dweebs and s.k.a.n.ks and PBs-those kids weren"t taunted. No one bullied or excluded them.
"You won"t find any bullies or g.a.n.g.b.a.n.gers here," PW had promised. "And just in case I"m wrong-in case I might be missing something-all you got to do is let me know. Or better yet, go to Mason. You just point out any bully to Brother Mason, and I think it"s safe to say you won"t have anything more to worry about."
But there has been no reason to go to Mason. No bullies-and no stoners or goths or super-annoying emo types, either, except maybe Michaela"s sister, Clover, who wasn"t permitted to watch The Pa.s.sion of the Christ The Pa.s.sion of the Christ with everyone else, not after what happened at the snake farm. It was the sight of the snakes being fed live mice that started it. At first they thought it was the gift of tongues. But that wasn"t ecstasy Clover was feeling. She had raved all the way home on the bus, terrifying the other children. with everyone else, not after what happened at the snake farm. It was the sight of the snakes being fed live mice that started it. At first they thought it was the gift of tongues. But that wasn"t ecstasy Clover was feeling. She had raved all the way home on the bus, terrifying the other children.
The closest thing to a bully Cole has met in Salvation City is Tracy"s niece, Starlyn. But Cole would never say anything bad about Starlyn. And besides, he can"t point to anything specific Starlyn does that could definitely be labeled bullying. It"s more of an att.i.tude. Darlin" Starlyn, people call her. Apocalyptic and and a rapture child: how could you not have att.i.tude? a rapture child: how could you not have att.i.tude?
In the same way that PW never corrects the mistakes Tracy makes when she speaks, Tracy doesn"t correct Cole"s written a.s.signments. Every one is handed back with Eggsssellent!!! Eggsssellent!!! written across the top. No other comments. written across the top. No other comments.
"He"s plenty bright and he knows so much already. And he reads the Bible all the time, G.o.d bless him. But he isn"t into the lessons, I can tell, and he does bad on some of the tests. Honestly, though, I don"t see the point in his spending so much time and effort on most of this stuff. It would be different if we were living years ago."
Adele has to agree with her friend. "Back in the day, I always thought about how I was preparing my kids for a chance at a good job. But it"s doubtful Cole"s going to have to worry about that."
"Be that as it may, there are rules and Christians still have to play by them," says Pastor Wyatt. "I do believe we are living in the end times, but the way to prepare isn"t by changing our daily lives. We should go on living right, treating others with respect and kindness, witnessing, and of course praying. But the rest should be left to G.o.d. And I don"t believe he"d appreciate us trying to second-guess him. I"d also like to remind everyone that among the highest Christian values, along with faith and purity, are accountability and self-control. And for those out there who are thinking, Guess there ain"t much point in fixing the roof, now, is there? or Hey, maybe I can stop paying my mortgage or credit card debts-well, I believe such folks are playing with h.e.l.lfire."
But Cole figures PW must also believe school isn"t important anymore, because he pays almost no attention to what Cole and Tracy are doing.
"I"m not the one to ask about academics. I was a lousy student myself."
Cole remembers his parents saying that they could never fall in love with anyone who wasn"t smart; they couldn"t even be friends with people who weren"t smart. And though they insisted that Cole, though unfortunately lazy, was very smart, too, he used to worry that he wasn"t as smart as either of them wished.
"I married Miles for his brains," his mother always said.
Cole doesn"t think PW would bless a marriage like that.
"Think Jesus cares how many IQ points you got?" Pastor Wyatt asks his congregation. "Remember, in this world the sharpest knife in the drawer could well be Satan."
Cole has noticed that people in Salvation City don"t talk much about college. And he has noticed that a lot of parents don"t seem all that concerned about how much their children know about things like square roots or medieval times.
"I"m totally down with the idea that I"m not gonna grow up," says Clemson Harley, a boy who, though a whole year younger than Cole, has already been allowed to preach (causing Cole, who has no desire whatsoever to preach, to suffer attacks of envy).
Cole doesn"t care if he never goes to college, but he finds it hard to accept never getting to be a grown man. He"d been in a hurry to grow up for as long as he could remember. Not that he is sure what he"d do with himself as an adult, besides create comics. PW says that between Cole"s desire to explore the world and his devotion to the Word, he has the makings of a missionary. Cole knows this is something he will never be, but because he also knows that this is PW"s highest compliment, it makes him happy.
Cole has been living in Salvation City for about four months when, one day, on their way downtown to get haircuts, he and PW stop for gas. The gas station is next to a convenience store. While PW is filling the tank Cole drops into the store for a c.o.ke. When he comes back out he glances up the road and sees a man running in their direction. Cole stands still, waiting for the man to get closer, his heart inching its way up his throat.
The same height and weight, the same tan and orange running suit, the same powerful but easy stride. Cole cannot believe his eyes, nor can he stop the bolt of maniacal joy that knocks the soda can from his hand. And then the man is there, the man is running right by him.
"Let"s go, son." Cole thinks PW hasn"t noticed anything, but when they have driven about a mile he asks very quietly if Cole is all right. Cole says nothing; his throat is still blocked. "It"s okay, you don"t have to say." PW reaches for Cole"s hand. "It"s not just you, son," he tells him. "Everyone sees dead people."
BOOTS LUDWIG, owner of the local radio station and creator and host of Heaven"s A-Poppin"! Heaven"s A-Poppin"!, wanted Cole to be on his show.
"I want folks out there to hear your story."
PW agreed that anything that brought attention to the plight of orphans was a good idea.
The flu had hit most children"s homes hard, but for every empty bed there was a long waiting list of new orphans, and while they waited they slept on the floor. In most cases, there wasn"t enough staff to care for half the number of children they already had. (With the flu, the large pool of volunteers had evaporated.) Food, blankets, and medicines were also in short supply, and for lack of these things, even once the flu had waned, children died.
At the height of the pandemic, thousands of young children began showing up, sometimes without so much as a slip of paper to say who they were. Identifying and reuniting them with surviving family would take time; in some cases it might not even be possible. Those who"d grown up in the homes, or who"d been there a while, often hated the newcomers. Very quickly some homes began to resemble those d.i.c.kensian h.e.l.lholes of people"s fears. The worst were almost perfect replicas of the vicious world of adults behind bars.
But real bars, at least, would have protected the children from the outside. In a real prison, a stranger would not have been able to walk in off the street, slip a baby girl into a pillowcase, and carry her off with him.
And a real prison would not have been so easy to escape. But, alone or by twos or in groups, children trooped out of orphanages every day. When they did, the best thing that could happen to them was to be caught and returned (in fact, many returned voluntarily). Usually such children went unpunished, but to help discourage others from taking the same risk, runaways were sometimes asked to tell their stories. And there were children who would have done so but found they could not; they could not find the words. (Some had lost the ability to speak at all.) The pandemic had caused major interruptions in the production and distribution of goods, and that included the illegal ones. At the same time, it had created hordes of unprotected boys and girls. As a growing number of these children-many more girls than boys-began to disappear, it was clear that they were falling into the hands of human traffickers, whose own numbers kept growing now that other illegal trades, like drug dealing, had become much harder to ply. Evil, too, has to eat. The traffickers kept their eyes on the children"s homes, and runaways were sometimes overtaken within yards of their own front door. Sometimes the foxes didn"t wait for the chickens to fly the coop. In Boston, a man, his wife, and their teenaged daughter all volunteered to work in the same children"s home with the purpose of procuring minors for a p.o.r.n ring.
Long after the last case of pandemic influenza had been diagnosed, the bodies of young people would keep turning up, victims of hunger, exposure, various infections, murder, and (more and more) suicide. But the pandemic had inured people to the sight of young corpses. Far scarier to many Americans were the living: kids of all ages who"d banded together and were surviving by their (criminal) wits, often under the head of one or more nefarious adults. Fierce and sometimes murderous gangs that had come to menace every city and suburb and many small towns, where they often outnumbered police.
In the wake of the pandemic, there was no shortage of places to hide out or squat. Houses and buildings and sometimes entire streets stood abandoned. The flu had even turned some rural villages into ghost towns. There were plenty of ordinary citizens who"d survived the virus but whose lives had been ruined by the pandemic in one way or another and who now found themselves squatting side by side with criminals. Those who"d seen the slums and shantytowns and refugee camps in countries crushed by warfare or poverty compared the new settlements to such places.
Though their house, like their income, was small, Pastor Wyatt and Tracy would have liked to take in more than one child. But, as Tracy put it: "The authorities keep banging us into walls." In fact, they now considered it a miracle they had managed to get Cole. Even in his case, there"d been so many questions and hesitations that Pastor Wyatt had lost his temper-only to be shouted down by a child welfare official who informed him that, bad as things were, they weren"t so bad yet that people could just drop in and pick out a kid like a puppy.
"And let"s face it," he told Pastor Wyatt unapologetically. "It wouldn"t exactly be the first time a man of G.o.d turned out to be a you-know-what."