Jesus Saves

Jesus waited alone at the bus stop. The gray clouds had just given way to a steady drizzle that broke his heart. The bus was late again, but Jesus stayed still and patient. He had no choice. His mama was waiting for him.

She was waiting silently even though her room at the hospital was anything but quiet. The monitors had a variety of sounds. Some beeped, some buzzed and some even crackled. He’d sit in the chair next to her bed and try to force the noise from his ears. He’d squint and try to think only of his mama’s voice. The voice that told him not to go out at night, not to hang around with thugs and not to take drugs.

Looking back, Jesus tried to figure out if he would have been able to make different choices that would have stopped things from winding up this way. It killed him, ate away at his soul, the events that took place. But he had been forced to make those decisions. No one ever said no to the Red Aces, no one, and everyone knew if you defied their commander-in-chief, Lowdown, you were dead meat. Why had he said what he said and done what he’d done?

Lowdown ran the neighborhood where twelve-year-old Jesus and his mother scraped out their existence. Almost every day on his way to the crumbling edifice that Jesus and his friends called school, he could see Lowdown and the Aces standing around the Aces Up Bodega. They would taunt and hiss at Jesus as he walked by and Jesus knew they’d be coming for him. Coming for him to sell their drugs, coming for him to run their money, coming for him to take away his hope for a different life.

The young nurse who sometimes smiled at Jesus and gave him a juice suddenly appeared at the door and broke him out of his thoughts.

“Honey,” she started, “the doctors met again today to discuss your mother’s care. Do you think you might be able to get your uncle to come here with you tomorrow?”

Jesus was thoughtful. His Uncle Raj was now his only adult relative. But he was so often high or drunk, Jesus didn’t know where to find him half the time. He couldn’t let the social workers find out about that though. He didn’t want to wind up in foster care. From what he heard, foster care could be worse than prison. Foster parents were usually very interested in the money and not very interested in the care. One kid he knew almost starved to death and another almost died when a set of rickety bunk beds fell on him. These thoughts really scared Jesus and he decided then and there to redouble his efforts to find uncle. Jesus was better off on his own or with his drunk uncle than having some crazy foster family making his life harder.

When it began to grow dark, Jesus kissed his mother softly on her cool pale cheek. He brushed his tears out of his eyes and headed toward the sickly yellow glow of the florescent lights by the nurses’ station. He cast his eyes for the kind nurse but then imagined she may have left for the home already.

“I’ll be back with my uncle Raj tomorrow.” he said, as the heavy nurse with the glasses on her bosom looked up at him.

“That would be a good idea.” She said curtly and then watched him as he headed for the elevators.

Jesus was thankful that the rain had stopped as he hit the street outside the hospital. The bare treads on his worn-out sneakers slapped at the cement. At least this pair felt pretty good and he was glad his mom had found them at the church rummage sale. He had worn the last pair he owned until his toes wore through the front.

He didn’t want to be out much past dark in case Lowdown and his friends were hanging around, but he really needed to find his uncle. Jesus thought the liquor store on 184th Street might be a good place to try, so he headed uptown.

When he came across the flashing neon lights, he thought about how mad this mom would be if she knew he was going to head in there.

“Jesus, you stay away from those places. There’s nothing but trouble waiting for you in a place like that.”

Momma, there’s trouble everywhere, Jesus thought and his eyes began to bleed tears again.

The cowbells on the door clanked and the bleary eyed counter girl looked up from her copy of Latina. “What can I get for ya?” she sighed. “You look a little young to be in here.”

Jesus felt nervous all of a sudden and blurted, “Do you know a guy named Raj? I’ve been looking all over. I really need to find him.”

The cashier squinted and gave him a steely look. “Maybe. What do you want with him?”

Jesus took a breath and again, blurted, “He’s my uncle, my mom’s brother and she’s really sick and I need him.”

Her eyes turned from icy to lukewarm as she decided to trust him. She shook her head and said, “I am not really sure where he is now. He bought a bottle earlier and I know sometimes he likes to go up on the roof and ... enjoy a beverage or two.”

Indeed, Jesus did find him crumpled in a heap next to one of the heating structures. His black hightops were untied and he wore no socks. The empty bottle of Cisco lay a few feet away. Jesus looked at his uncle’s unshaven face and thought that he would really have to clean him up before tomorrow.

“Uncle Raj! Uncle Raj!” He shook his shoulder. The leather jacket his uncle wore was sticky and smelled like vomit. Jesus began to panic.

“Uncle Raj! Uncle Raj!” He shook him harder and shouted this time.

“Yo, yo, YO! What the…Oh, it’s you. What’s up little man? Long time, no see. What are you doin’ up here anyway?”

Jesus could have cried with relief. His uncle was not only, not dead, but he was relatively coherent. He must have started that bottle a lot earlier in the day.

“My mom is so sick, Uncle Raj and I really need you!”

“ Rosa’s sick? What happened? What are you talking about?’

“I think it was Lowdown or one of the Aces. I think… I think..“ Jesus started crying now. It was the first time he had told anyone this version of the story.

“I think it was my fault.” Jesus began to sob uncontrollably.

“What? What! Little man, Little Man. Start from the beginning and tell me what the fu.. what exactly happened.”

His uncle reached out for him and pulled him fiercely against his chest. It was then that Jesus was able to let it all loose. All the feelings he had been hiding from the kind nurse, from the hospital social workers, from the world. There on the roof, taking strength from the only family member he had left to talk to.

“I didn’t want to sell their drugs, I didn’t want to run their money. I told them… I told them, “ he sobbed, “I told them my mama would kill me. And then, and then, they told me they’d take care of her. Why? Why? Did I mention her? I didn’t know. I didn’t know what else to say! I NEVER should have, I NEVER should have… HE HIT HER! Uncle Raj, HE HIT HER!” Jesus was shrieking now. “HE HIT HER with his car and now she’s going to die!”

“Those little fucking punks.” Uncle Raj’s blue eyes looked like ice now. ”Those little fucking punks. This is NOT on you, Jesus. NOT on you.” Raj grabbed him even tighter and Jesus cried and cried.

“I’ll take care of this. This is NOT on you. I’ll handle those pendajas. Lowdown is a punk and I am going to make him feel pain. Let’s get you home little man. It’s getting cold out.”

Jesus was grateful that there was hot water at the apartment when he and Uncle Raj returned. He felt the warm water hit his body and although he cried a bit more, he felt some relief from the unbearable pain he had been carrying around the past two days.

He stepped out of the bathroom and stared from the hallway at Uncle Raj in the living room. He was sitting on the threadbare couch looking blankly at the television, smoking butt after butt. The coffee mug he was using as an ashtray smoldered with the remains of other cigarettes he had finished.

Without looking back at him, his uncle said, “Go to sleep little man. We’ll head to hospital in the morning.”

Jesus lay in bed and pushed away worrisome thoughts. His uncle had been unreliable in the past. Drunk, strung out, but he seemed different tonight. Jesus never felt safe around Raj, but tonight he did. He clung to this feeling of safety and used it to fall asleep.

Raj sat in the crappy living room and looked around. Everything in the apartment was old and shabby, but it was neat. Rosa worked so hard to make a life for them. Christ, what was he going to do now? This kid had no one. Rosa had to pull through this. He was only 24 years old. Many of his friends had kids, but Raj had carefully avoided that hot mess. Now what he going to do? Rosa was just going to have to pull through and that was it. Raj pulled off his dirty work boots and threw his legs up on the couch. Grabbing his leather jacket off the arm of the couch, he pulled it over his shoulders and went to sleep.

Morning came through the frayed blue curtain sheers and Raj felt stiff from the night on the couch. Although he’d admit to having spent the night in way worse places. His head throbbed and he kept his eyes shut while listening to the tink of Jesus’ spoon against the cereal bowl.

“Hey kid, pour me some, will ya?”

“I would Uncle Raj, but that was the last of the milk.”

“Yeah, ok, then.” Raj groaned and sat up. He lit himself a Camel and blew out the smoke from his first inhale. “Okay, run down and get me a café con leche and a buttered roll. But stay the hell away from Aces Up. Head down to the diner instead.”

“Sure thing, Uncle Raj.” He dropped his spoon and bowl in the sink and shot out the door.

He’s a good kid, thought Raj. Rosa did a good job with him. Rosa was always a good kid, too. It was Raj that was the wild one. Growing up, neither of them had an easy time. Their dad died in the accident at the factory when Rosa was six and Raj was only one. After that Mama had to work night and day to keep a roof over their heads. Rosa became like a second mother to her little brother, but once Mama got sick, she couldn’t control him. Raj was sixteen when they found the tumor on her breast and when she finally succumbed to her cancer, he was twenty. After she died, Raj couldn’t bear to spend too much time with Rosa and had made himself scarce.

He decided it would be a good idea to jump in the shower before making the trip to the hospital. When he saw Rosa’s pink razor lying among the soap and shampoo, he decided he would shave, too. He owed it to Rosa and Jesus to look responsible. He regretted not having clean clothes to change into.

Raj took sips of his coffee and carried his roll to the bus stop as Jesus walked quickly next to him. They were both lost in their own thoughts as the bus pulled up.

“Oh shit. I don’t have a card.” He confessed to Jesus.

“No matter, “Jesus replied, “I got it.” He swiped twice and they climbed aboard. They took their seats and Raj rubbed his face, trying to get alert.

When they made their way to Rosa’s room, the door was closed and immediately Jesus knew that something was wrong.

“Wait, wait, Uncle Raj, don’t go in yet. Wait! Wait!” He started crying as he ran down to the nurses’ station. The kind nurse, the young one, came around and knelt down, hugging Jesus closely.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She whispered.

Jesus felt her stethoscope pressing into him. He smelled her shampoo. His eyes were shut tight. How could his mind be registering any of this stuff when his mother was dead? His mother was dead. His. Mother. Was. Dead.

He walked, in a trance, afraid, down the hall to her room. Everything seemed louder, brighter, harsher. He looked in the doorway and saw his uncle kneeling at his mother’s bedside, crying, “Oh Dios mio. Oh Dios Mio.”

Jesus ran to the bed and threw his upper body across his mother’s chest. “Mama. Mama, Mami!!” he shrieked. The room was silent underneath the sobbing of Jesus and Raj’s now whispered prayers. The beeping and buzzing had stopped.

Raj stood taking deep, gulping breaths, wiped his eyes and sat in the plastic chair in the corner of the room. He looked at his nephew weeping over his mother’s body. There would be no revenge against Low Down. He would not risk escalating a war with street punks. He would not waste time plotting and planning. All his energy needed to spent on this kid. This kid had no one now. No one. Raj thought about it and realized he had no one either. He hadn’t cared about anyone or anything in a long time. He cared about Jesus now though. The instant that boy fell into his care, under his responsibility, Raj vowed things would be different. He would find a new way with Jesus. Find a new life.