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“If it means keeping Isaiah safe, I’m fine with that.”
“I never meant to hurt the boy.”
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
Bill leaned on his cane. “I needed a number, and Isaiah, he had the sight. Dutch’s men was coming for me. I… I didn’t mean to hurt the boy. But then I could feel your healing power running in his veins, flowing into me, giving me little bits of my sight back. I knew it was coming from you, and I figured I might could heal myself up that way. I was wrong, though.”
“You’re a monster.”
“You think you know everything? You don’t know shit, boy! You. Don’t. Know. Shit,” Blind Bill thundered. He took a stuttering breath and wiped away tears with a calloused hand. “I seen things you ain’t never seen. I done things, things they made me do, things that ate my soul up—that still eat my soul. If you’d a healed me up like I asked, none of this had to happen! But you couldn’t be bothered to help an old blind man, could ya? Too fulla yourself, Mr. High Hat!”
“Shut up!”
“Or maybe you ain’t as good as you say.”
“Shut up!”
“You wanna prove yourself? Put your hands on me.” Bill slapped his big, weathered hands hard against his chest. “Come on! Show me what you can do, boy!”
“Don’t call me boy,” Memphis snapped.
“Gimme back my sight or kill me. Huh? Do it. Go on. Put so much juice in me I fall out dead. Or you afraid of that? You ’fraid to really put it to the test? To know what you got deep down inside you? Maybe it ain’t so fine. So good,” Bill said, the word a sneer. “Maybe we ain’t all that different.”
Blind rage rose up inside Memphis. He’d never wanted to hurt somebody as much as he wanted to hu
rt Bill Johnson. With a roar, he rushed Bill, taking the big man by surprise as he knocked him down and pressed his palms against Bill’s eyes. Bill’s shouts joined Memphis’s battle cry. Lightning crackled around the two of them. Memphis leaned in with all he had, until his body shook and he blacked out.
When he came to, he was sprawled on his back on the path in St. Nicholas Park. His legs trembled. His hands ached and burned. The skin of his thumbs were blistered where they had touched Bill’s eyes. What happened?
Nearby, Bill Johnson lay on his side, still as death, his blind man’s cane gripped in his left hand.
“Mr. Johnson? Mr. Johnson!” Memphis said.
Bill Johnson’s arms and legs twitched once, twice. And then he gulped in a lungful of air like a beached fish. He coughed as he sat straight up. The cane fell from his hand and clattered to the walk as he pressed his hands to his eyes with a great shout. And then, just as suddenly, he was laughing, a great hiccuping of joy. His eyelashes fluttered, like wings trying for flight. “I can see! Oh, sweet Lord, I can see!”
He turned his newborn eyes to Memphis. “You… you healed me,” he said in wonder.
“Yeah.”
“I thought you was gonna kill me.”
An exhausted Memphis sat up gingerly and cradled his knees. “I wanted to. But any fool can do that.” He meant it as a slap. So maybe he wasn’t over wanting to hurt Bill just yet.
Bill shook his head. “I don’t deserve your mercy.”
“My mother would say that Jesus forgives. But I ain’t Jesus. I better never catch you around my brother again. Get your things outta my aunt’s house and go. Understand?”
Bill nodded. “Can I at least say good-bye to the boy?”
“No. I want you gone.”
“All right,” Bill whispered. Tears still streamed down his cheeks. The night was all lit up like a carnival. The light stung, but his eyes couldn’t get enough. There were constellations peeking out beneath the bright haze of the city. Down the path, some lovers had stopped to kiss under the honeyed glow of a street lamp. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Won’t throw away my second chance.”
“I don’t care what you do. Just get gone,” Memphis spat back. He examined his hands, wincing. But as he watched, the blisters began to fade.
Memphis looked over at Bill Johnson and caught his breath.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Bill said. He’d lived in darkness for fifteen years. Now that he was free, he didn’t want his miracle to disappear like a dream.
