The Road to Mercy by Kathy Harris Read Free Book Online

understood the implications of his words. His wife slept fitfully, so sleep tread lightly across his consciousness. He roused at one a.m. to discover Beth’s side of the bed empty. Straining to listen through the darkness, he recognized the sound of running water in the bathroom.
    Before he could climb out of bed to check on her, Beth’s silhouette staggered through the door. He watched her pick her way across the room, as if navigating a minefield. When she reached the foot of the bed, she collapsed onto the floor. Almost like a building imploding into itself, her legs gave way and her body folded.
    Josh threw back the covers and rushed to his wife, gently lifting her upright. Beth’s limp body gave in to him without effort. He braced her sturdy frame against his shoulders, holding her with a firm grip.
    Without warning, she began to laugh hysterically.
    The spark of fear and concern that had been lit in his gut a moment ago ignited into anger. How could she do this to him? To their child?
    “Stop . . . Beth. Stop it!” His reprimand crescendoed with each word. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he could see her staring at him, as if in shock. Then, she started to sob. She embraced him with shaky arms and buried her head in his chest. Josh rocked her in his arms, holding and comforting her for several minutes until she had settled down enough for him to lead her back to bed.
    For the remainder of the night, he lay awake considering what their life had come to and where they were going. Beth slept without incident for the next few hours. She rested so peacefully he found himself straining to watch her diaphragm rise and fall, assuring himself she continued to breathe. Twice she had nightmares, or presumably so. She muttered irrelevant bits of conversation aloud, and her muscles jerked and flailed against themselves.
    Josh considered reaching out to awaken her and soothe the pain of her tortured dreams. But he feared that would only burn the images of the hallucinations into her conscious mind. So, instead, he prayed. He asked God to have mercy on his wife and on their child.
    And to help him get through the next eight months.

8
May 30, 1971
    Ka-plop. Ka-plop. Ka-plop.
    Isaac rolled his bicycle beside him as he walked home from the flower shop. The front tire had gone flat. It was ruined this time, and he knew he had to find a way to replace it. His bicycle represented the only freedom he had.
    Grandfather had sent him home early today to help Mama Ruth prepare for Shavuot, the Jewish Festival of the First Fruits. His handlebar basket was piled high with flowers and greenery to decorate the house. Uncle David, Aunt Rachel, and his cousins, Adina and Eli, would be coming over soon for the all-night celebration, a time for reflection on God’s gift of the Torah. Shavuot represented both ending and beginning to the Jewish people. It was the time when they had been freed from enslavement, before the giving of the law to Moses on Mount Sinai.
    Mama Ruth would serve her usual Shavuot evening meal of roast chicken, noodle kugel, fresh vegetables, cheese blintzes, and fruit. Afterward, they would read the harvest story in the book of Ruth. Then they would play games and spend the night discussing the Torah.
    Grandfather would be home before sunset, which meant Isaac had a full hour to convince Mama Ruth to help him buy a new bicycle. For months, he had saved his allowance and the small amount of money he had earned working in the school cafeteria. Yet his savings fell short of the $89.95 necessary to buy the silver Schwinn Manta Ray he had already picked out at Frankie’s Hardware.
    Isaac had spent hours staring through the front window of the store, two doors down from his grandfather’s shop. The five-speed, muscle bike had a Stik-Shifter and medium rise handlebars. All he needed to buy it was eleven more dollars, plus change. He should be able to sweet-talk that amount from his grandmother, given enough