Dan stopped in mid wipe and stared at her. “Aw, Carrie. Don’t tell me you think—”
“Yes!” she said in a fierce whisper. “I think a certain someone has announced her presence.”
“Come on, Carrie—”
“You and José believe in your hysterical blindness, if you wish. All I know is that Preacher began to see again within hours of a certain someone’s arrival.”
Dan opened his mouth, then closed it, paused, then shook his head. “Coincidence, Carrie.”
But he didn’t sound terribly convinced.
Carrie couldn’t repress a smile. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see what?”
“How many ‘coincidences’ it takes to convince you.”
Fruitless Vigil in Tompkins Square
Approximately 1,000 people gathered last night for a candlelight prayer vigil in Tompkins Square Park. Surrounded by knots of curious homeless, many of whom call the park home, the predominantly female crowd prayed to the Virgin Mary in the hope that she would manifest herself in the park.
Sightings of a lone woman, described as “glowing faintly”, and identified as the Blessed Virgin, have been reported with steadily increasing frequency all over the Lower East Side during the past few weeks.
Despite many recitations of the Rosary, no manifestation occurred. Many members of the crowd remained undaunted, however, vowing to return next Sunday evening.
(The New York Post)
SIXTEEN
Manhattan
“Something bothering you, José?”
Dan and Dr. Joe ambled crosstown after splitting a sausage-and-pepper pizza and a pitcher of beer at Nino’s on St. Mark’s and Avenue A. José had been unusually quiet tonight.
“Bothering me? I don’t know. Nothing bad or anything like that, just...I don’t know.”
“That’s the first time you’ve put that many words together in a row all night, and six of them were ‘I don’t know.’ What gives?”
José said, “I don’t know,” then laughed. “I...aw hell, I guess I can tell you: I think two of my AIDS patients have been cured.”
Dan felt an anticipatory tightening in his chest and he wasn’t sure why.
“You’re sure?”
“It’s not just my diagnosis. They were both anemic, both had Kaposi’s when I’d seen them in July. They came in last week and their skin had cleared and their hematocrits were normal. I sent them to Beekman for a full work up. The results came back today.”
“And?”
“They’re clear.”
“Cured?”
Dan saw José’s head nod in the dark. “Yep. They’re now HIV neg. Their peripheral smears are normal, their CD4 cell counts are normal, their skin lesions are gone. Not a single goddamn trace that they were ever exposed to HIV. Hell, they both used to be positive for hepatitis B surface antigen and now even that’s gone.”
José sounded as if he was going to cry.
“But how—?”
“Nothing I did. Just gave them the usual cocktail, and let me tell you, man, they weren’t all that reliable about taking their meds. Fucking miracle, that’s what it is. Medical fucking miracle.”
Dan’s mouth went dry. Talk of miracles did that to him lately. So did talk of people seeing the Virgin Mary in his neighborhood.
“Miracle. You mean like...Preacher?”
“I can’t say much about Preacher. I’ve got no medical records on him from when he was blind, so I can’t say anything about the condition of his retinas when he couldn’t see. All I can say is that his vision has improved steadily until it’s almost twenty-twenty now. But...these two AIDS patients, they were documented cases.”
Dan sensed a certain hesitancy in José.
“I wouldn’t happen to know these two patients, would I?”
José hesitated, then sighed. “Normally I wouldn’t tell you, but they’re going to be in all the medical journals soon, and from then on they’ll be news-show and talk-show commodities, so I guess it’s okay to tell you they’re both regulars at your Loaves and Fishes. You’ll hear their names soon enough.”
Dan stumbled a step.
“Oh my God.”
“Well, you knew some of them had to be HIV positive.”
Dan tried to remember who hadn’t been around lately.
“Dandy and Rider?”
“You guessed it.”
“They had it but they’re cured?”
“Yep. Both with a history of IV drug use, formerly HIV positive, now HIV neg. You figure it out.”
Dan was trying to do just that.
He knew Carrie wouldn’t have to think twice about an explanation when she heard the news: the Virgin did it.
And how was he supposed to counter that? Damned if he wasn’t beginning to think she might be right. First Preacher gets his sight back, then people all over the area start sighting someone they think is the Virgin Mary, and now two of their regulars at St. Joe’s are cured of AIDS.
The accumulated weight of evidence was getting too heavy to brush off as mere coincidence.
He glanced at José and noticed he still looked glum.
“So how come you’re not happy?”
“Because when I gave Rider and Dandy the news they gave me all the credit.”
“So?”
“So I didn’t do anything. And if they go around blabbing that Dr. Martinez can cure AIDS, it’s going to raise a lot of false hopes. And worse, my little clinic is going to be inundated with people looking for a miracle.”
A miracle...that word again.
Dan clapped him on the shoulder, trying to lighten him up.
“Who knows. Maybe you’ve got the healing touch.”
“Not funny, Dan. I don’t have the resources to properly treat the people I’m seeing now. If the clinic starts attracting crowds I don’t know what I’ll do.” Suddenly he grinned. “Maybe I’ll direct them all to Saint Joe’s Loaves and Fishes. If they’re looking for a miracle, that’s the place to find it.”
A knot of dread constricted in Dan’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.
“Don’t even kid about that!”
José laughed. “Hey, think about it: It all fits. Preacher regained his sight there, and both Dandy and Rider are regulars. Maybe the cure-all can be found at Loaves and Fishes. Maybe Sister Carrie’s stirring some special magical ingredient into that soup of hers.”
Dan forced a smile. “Maybe. I’ll have to ask her.”
‡
Carrie held up two zip-lock bags.
“Here they are. The magic ingredients.”
When he’d mentioned José’s remarks to her this morning, she’d smiled and crooked a finger at him, leading him down to the subcellar. It was the first time he’d been down here since he’d carried in the Virgin. After Carrie lit the candles, Dan saw that the Virgin looked different. Her hair was neater, tucked away under her wimple, and those long, grotesque fingernails had been clipped off. The air was suffused with the sweet scent of the fresh flowers that surrounded the bier.
Carrie then reached under her bier and produced these two clear plastic bags.
Dan took them from her and examined them. One contained an ounce or so of a fine, off-white powder; the other was full of a feather-light gray substance that looked for all the world like finely chopped...hair.
He glanced back at Carrie and found her smiling, staring at him, her eyes luminous in the candle glow.
“What are these?” he said, hefting the bags.
“Hers.”
“I don’t get it.”
Carrie reached out and gently touched the bag of fine, gray strands. “This one’s her hair.” She then touched the bag with the powder. “And this is what’s left of her fingernails.”