Ministry

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The doctors decided that Faye needed to stay a little longer. She had begun experiencing terrible cramps one night, and she was terrified that she was having a miscarriage. She went back on bed rest and was being constantly monitored by various little electrodes that she had pasted underneath her gown, as well as being moved into the telemetry ward. Jet had been demanding information regarding Faye's health, so the doctors were reporting that she had internal injuries and cardio problems sustained by the fall. Legally, the hospital was bound to not disclose Faye's pregnancy to anyone she didn't want knowing. Fr. Fred knew, but he wasn't going to say anything, and neither was Ed. Ed, in fact, didn't even ask any questions regarding Faye's health beyond her injuries sustained in the fall. Faye was thankful for this, for she had expected Ed to try to drag information out of her by simply being obnoxious.

So far, though, everything was going better, and the baby was acting like it was going to stay put. Faye had begun to get excited about the prospect of becoming a mother. She had taken to keeping her hand on her abdomen and having one-sided conversations with the baby.

So you thought you were going to vacate your little apartment, huh, kiddo? Why would you want to do that? I'd think it'd be nice in there, except for the humidity. Maybe if I take an effervescent tablet, it would be like a whirlpool. What do you think?

The rest of the Bebop crew were daily visitors, in shifts. Fr. Fred visited whenever his schedule permitted. A couple of times, other people representing the campus chapel came by to say hello. One older lady had even brought her a rosary, and a card that reminded Faye what prayers to say. Faye had yet to pray on it, however. But she would hold the rosary and finger the beads, thinking about her future.

One day, Faye had fallen asleep with the beads in her hands. She woke up to the touch of someone carefully disentangling the rosary from her fingers. Faye looked up to see Spike, who had gotten the beads loose.

"Hi, Romani. Pretty rosary."

"Hello yourself, Gorgio. Thanks. The beads are made out of pressed rose petals."

Spike lifted the beads up to his nose. "So they are. A St. Theresa rosary? The Little Flower?"

Faye furrowed her brow. "What would you know about St. Theresa?"

Spike shrugged and put the rosary on the bedside table. "Went to a seminary school, remember?" Spike looked at Faye's expression of disbelief. "Faye, we've been through this. Yes, I went to seminary for a while."

"I know. It just still surprises me to hear you say anything about it."

Spike chuckled. "I ran into your nurse outside, and she told me to get you up for a little walk. She wants to see you make half-a-lap around the desk." Faye groaned. "If you don't, Faye, your lungs are going to fill with fluid. And your rosary won't be able to help you then. C'mon."

Spike folded back the sheet covering her legs, and pulled over the rolling stand with her monitors. Holding out his hand, he supported Faye as she maneuvered herself out of the bed. Thankfully, her gown was of a kimono-style, so she didn't have to worry about mooning everyone. Spike then placed her hand into the crook of his arm, and they walked slowly out of the room. If it hadn't been for Faye's hospital gown and the rolling stand of monitors, they would have looked like a couple out for a stroll in the afternoon sun.

However, Faye tired very quickly, and Spike helped her sit in a chair in the hall. And while she would have preferred to just stretch her feet out in front of her, Spike made her bend her knees to a 90-degree angle.

"You're a horrible taskmaster, lunkhead."

"Then you're going to hate me even more when you get back to the Bebop and I begin your PT proper."

"You're not going to make me talk endlessly about Elmer J. Fudd, are you?"

Spike gave her a look. "No, I don't think you need speech therapy. Although perhaps the rest of us would benefit from your jaw being wired shut."

Just then, Faye heard someone calling her name. Spike looked up to the voice, and his eyes grew wide. "Freddy?"

"Spike?"

Faye's jaw was practically hanging on her chest as she watched the tall lanky man give a gruff hug with the ubiquitous back-slaps to the much shorter priest. The lunkhead knows a priest? What next?

Spike was incredulous. "You son-of-a-gun, I knew that Father Bill was tapping you to join the priesthood, but I didn't think you'd actually take him up on it."

Fred laughed. "He was trying to tap you as well, you belligerent heathen. That was his job, for crying out loud."

Both men laughed and began to trade memories. Finally, they remembered Faye, and Fred turned to her and said, "You should have heard this guy play clarinet. He could make that thing sing like an angel. And then he stole my chair in orchestra."

Spike snorted. "You're still mad about that? You're the one who didn't change out your reed on audition day and sounded like a waterlogged kazoo."

Fred punched Spike in the arm, and then said, "Dude. I'll be right back." And the little man took off running down the hall, and several nurses yelled at him. Spike chuckled and shook his head.

Faye smiled. "Will wonders never cease with you? You considered becoming a priest?"

"No. Can you imagine me being called Father Spike?"

"Father Joseph has a better ring to it."

Spike scowled at her, and then sighed. "C'mon, get up, let's keep walking." Faye muttered epithets under her breath, but let Spike help support her as she got to her feet.

"You have an amazing past life, Spike. Imagine what would have happened if you'd followed in Fred's footsteps."

"I wouldn't have met you, or Jet, or Ed. I wouldn't be walking down a hospital corridor with you on my arm."

"Or had a false eye or cheated death at least half-a-dozen-times, or been so betrayed by people you loved and trusted."

"You either make the right decision, Faye, or you make the decision right." Spike pushed open the heavy door to her room, and walked her back to her bed. As Faye was struggling back into her bed, Fred walked in with a small case. Spike recognized it and shook his head. "Oh, no. No, no, no." Fred merely laughed and set the case on the bed, popping it open. Inside was a dismantled clarinet. Fred took out the pieces and began assembling them. Spike grabbed them out of his hands, saying, "You're overturning it. Stop manhandling that poor woodwind that way." Once Spike got the instrument together, he ran through a set of scales, his fingers almost instantly settling into place with muscle memory. "Geez, it's been over twenty years, Fred."

Fred sat on the bed next to Faye, saying, "It's just like falling off a bicycle. C'mon, let's hear something."

Spike stood for a moment, thinking. Then he set his fingers in place on the keys, took a breath, and started a note that trebled high, settling into a melody familiar to Faye. She closed her eyes, listening. After a few measures, she knew the tune. Gershwin, Rhapsody in Blue. Faye opened her eyes and smiled at Fred, who smiled back at her and patted her on her leg cast. Both Fred and Faye turned their full attention to Spike, who was tapping his foot in time, concentrating on his playing.

Who knows how our pasts could lay the path for our futures? What choices would Spike make differently? Am I walking the correct path for me? Faye wondered. But then she remembered what Spike had said. If this is not the right decision, then I'll make the decision right. No matter what, kiddo, you'll be able to count on me.

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This is a work of fiction, and the CB characters are copywrited by someone other than me. Please leave a review!