Hoping for Salvation

They had been waiting for a long, long time, and now time was
running short. Kabance was dying. Her lifemate, Gourd, had been by her
side since the beginning of her illness. He was by her still, sliding
his slender fingers along her smooth, gray skin.

"You know I love you," he said.

"Of course," she whispered. Her voice was weak, and a whisper was all
she could manage anymore. The Lechithin bacteria was deeply seated in
her lungs. By now, they were almost half gone. Tubes came out of her
ribs in long, silver streaks. Carbon Dioxide tanks lined the bed to
help her breathe, connected to the much thinner tubes in her nose. Her
lips were dry and crusty, but Gourd still kissed her goodnight before
he slept next to her platform.

He would lay down next to her, and when the room was dark and he was
sure she was asleep, all he could hear was the constant beeping of her
machine. It was a large red box that collected drainage and pieces of
her lung in large, meaty chunks, regulating her breathing and releasing
the carbon dioxide as she needed it. Behind it was the window. The
Zilon mooned glowed yellow in the distance, and above it was the Star.
He hoped it was the star he had read about in the great book. The book
called it a North star, which the old timers said helped with people
find where they were going on Earth. But on Ryshark, it was just the
Star, the biggest and brightest.

He would look at the Star, and Gourd would pray.

Dearest Jesus, how long? How long until you give us your gift? Kabance
doesn't have much time left . . . but doesn't she deserve it? She
deserves it, I know she does. Where are you? The Star is right here . .
. must I follow it? To find you? Please, a sign. Something.
Please.

The old timers said that the book came from Ryshark first. Their word
for book was bible, and that was the only native Ryshark word in the
entire thing, but it was right on the front cover, and they took it as
their book, closed off in the library under a glass case where the
scholars translated it into their language. The old timers read every
word, and they decreed that Jesus would come, and soon. They said that
Rysharkers couldn't die until Jesus came, but that was before the
Lechithin Bacteria began to strangle them with its black, deadly
claws.

Besemux, a young boy, was the first Rysharker to die. The first one
ever. Even the old timers didn't know what to do, they seemed lost. But
the deaths kept coming, the bacteria spread. The old timers had no
answers, but Gourd had an answer. Jesus was coming, he had to, or none
of them would be alive to receive the gift.

So he prayed. Every night, by her bed. Sometimes, Gourd prayed with
such intensity for so long that he gave himself a headache. He often
cried, and when the tears came from his green-black eyes, he begged. So
that he could answer her when she asked him the next day, and she
always asked him.

"Gourd, will I receive salvation?" she would ask, and Gourd would just
say to hang on, that Jesus would come and he would die for her sins and
she would have it. They would all have it.

The doctor told him that she was on the brink. A day, maybe two-she
could go at any time, and when Gourd was praying one night, the machine
began to beep faster . . . faster and faster until he bolted up and
grabbed her hand. She squeezed, but she didn't speak. Her eyes were
squeezed shut, and she was shaking violently in the bed. The doctor
rushed in and jammed a long needle into her leg, and the shaking
ceased. He left them alone to say goodbye. There was nothing he could
do, but Gourd didn't want to say goodbye.

"Will I receive salvation?" she asked once more. It took her several
minutes to get it out, but Gourd knew before she finished. He still
wasn't prepared to answer, so he didn't, he just squeezed her hand and
looked out the window. He looked for a miracle.

"I love you," he said. She tried to answer, but she was too far gone.
The tears came in thick, syrupy streams now. His eyes remained focused
on the window. After a few minutes, Kabance wasn't squeezing his hand
anymore. She wasn't breathing.

Gourd just looked out the window because he believed in the power of
Jesus. He looked out the window and he waited, and then he
coughed.

It was a thick, sinister cough, but Gourd didn't notice because he
waited. And waited. And waited.