The keening outside was unbearable. Fire glinted through pinholes, wind slapped the silica and foil shelter. He was a religious man, Missouri Synod Lutheran, and he prayed for his partner and himself. He had to see his wife and children again. “Our Father who art in Heaven…” He forced his mind to use the four-fold garland, recite line by line and meditate on the words. Learn, thank, confess, accept. “Why have You forsaken me?” Something was starting to go wrong. Heat seared his back and buttocks. His consciousness had entered another place entirely by the time the bellowing outside began to relent. He lay motionless in a new kind of space—probably between Earth and Heaven—in great pain for a long time. Every stir caused more pain. He heard a helicopter, maybe, and footsteps, voices. “Over here, Bud.” A man was suddenly very close. “You okay in there?” He grunted. “He’s alive. Drop the litter.” He imagined he looked pretty bad if the guy wasn’t even sure he was alive.
What do You think about The Chinese Beverly Hills?
