“Tttt….” The girl gasped in a hoarse whisper; her throat already raw from bile and alcohol. The older of the two leaned closer; her ear almost touching the girl’s lips.

“Tttt….” The girl said weakly before she turned her head and began to cry softly.

“Sonofabitch!” The woman looked at her partner as the ambulance pulled out of the park and into traffic. The other woman stared at her in question until she finished.

“Her…” she paused, shaking her head; there wasn’t much that she hadn’t seen in nearly twenty years as an EMT, but this was a first.

“Her…oh damn...his name is Tim….”

“Can you tell me who you are?” The woman set the clipboard aside and leaned closer to the bed.

“You already know…you have my ID…” He turned away; his face darkening with shame.

“No….no…I know that. Tell me who you are. “ The soft central-Asian accent was accompanied by a welcoming smile, which still did little to draw Tim out of his cold retreat. She leaned closer and touched the rail of the bed. Dr. Farah Alaampoor, her nametag read.

“It’s okay, you know? I’m not here to judge. We want to help you. I know you’re over eighteen so we won’t contact anyone without your permission.” A routine statement, but the woman’s smile seemed to warm up the room.

“You…you already know,” he said as he looked down at his body; as if the offensive part of him was still visible and jarring. She tilted her head and half-frowned.

“No, actually I don’t know.” It wasn’t at all a rebuke but a sincere expression that went beyond curiosity or even an obligatory part of her job. She continued.

“I do know that you must be very tired and hurt, Tim.” She was almost reluctant to use his name, given that who he was went far beyond how he presented himself when he was brought into the ER Saturday night.

“It’s a good thing that the officer found you.” Tim shook his head no at her encouragement.

“I know the pain must be so bad. So bad that it feels like you can’t go on? That no one understands?” He nodded almost reluctantly; as if in acknowledging the truth of her words he would have to…be forced to continue his sad existence. He put his head back and began to cry. She held his hand cautiously and spoke.

“You’re going to find that place inside from where you’ve drawn strength and assurance. And I know you’ll find a way to see past these painful moments.” She wasn’t downplaying his hurt, but rather helping him to begin the process of growing stronger.

“And maybe you’ll find a name along the way? He blinked back tears and looked at her with an anxious confusion.

“Something the people in cultures where I come from…. Many believe that names that have meaning beyond birth. A name that truly represents who you are. And maybe a name that will help others understand the person you have come to be?” She smiled. It was all too much to hope for.

“Don’t…” He turned away again and began to cry again.

“Oh, no…no…. please… it’s alright. There’s no hurry.”

“It’s just that…. I don’t have anywhere to go.” He stammered between sobs. It was more than where to go but to whom to turn for comfort and encouragement and acceptance.

“Not quite true,” a voice spoke from the doorway. Farah turned to find two young women and a young man in the doorway. Noorah and Susan stood, hand in hand; behind them was a tall young man in dark blue scrubs He smiled and waved at Tim.

“H…hi….Su…Noor…Danny…” Tim spoke with a rasp. His face grew red from embarrassment; mostly from the way things were but also from an odd feeling of doubt mixed with hope and wonder that arose from a place within.

“I …I’m so sorry, Tim.” Susan rushed to the bed side. Dr. Alaampoor stood up and used her hand to gently usher the girl closer.

“I’ve got to check in out front; I’ll be at the Nurse’s station if you need me, okay?” Her voice softly tugged at Tim and he smiled; the first time in a while. She smiled back and nodded at Noorah and Danny as she left the room.

“I should have known…you could have come to stay at our place.” Susan rubbed Tim’s hand softly. Tears spilled onto his wrist.

“I…I wasn’t …. I didn’t…” His words came haltingly; shame, even in the midst of love and forgiveness, will do that.

“We should have seen this coming,” Noorah insisted as she and Danny stepped closer.

“I…I couldn’t do anything…nothing…” Tim turned his face away and wept. Susan rubbed his back; her tears matching his.

“Well….we can do something now.” A fourth visitor stood in the doorway. Lina put her hand on Danny’s shoulder and squeezed before stepping closer to the bed.

“I’ve got plenty of room for you, honey.”

“I….” He stammered again.

“Shhhh….it’s okay.” Lina put her hand on Susan’s neck and massaged it while leaning closer to display the fifth of the morning’s welcoming smiles. Tim leaned back against the pillow and covered his face with the back of his hand, feeling entirely unworthy. She placed a large eco-friendly grocery bag on the bed. She pulled out a long dark blue corduroy jumper and a white turtle neck.

“I figured you’d need something to wear. We can wait outside while you get changed. I talked to the doctor just before she came in. You’re okay to come home.” At the word home, Tim began to sob as the impact of her words stripped away the last vestiges of defense. Susan grabbed both of his hands in hers and kissed them.

“You’ll never want for a place to stay.” The softness of Lina’s words was interrupted by the harsh tones of impatience that echoed from just outside the room.

“Where’s my son?” Pat McKenna said as he went to push past Danny into the room. Danny put his arm across the doorway, barring Pat’s entrance.

“Sorry, no visitors allowed.” Danny laughed but the look on his face was anything but mirthful.

“I’m sorry, Pastor McKenna, but you can’t come in,” Danny said as he closed the door behind him, pushing Pat back into the hallway.

“What do you mean. He’s my son and I want to see him.” Pat’s tone seemed to go from arrogant to almost childish in a second. Danny sighed and spoke.

“You can drop by at my aunt’s house….if it’s okay, but I’d call first if I were you.” The words prompted a return to self-important posturing.

“I don’t have to take this from you, Danny Albanese!” He said Danny’s name almost as a curse word. Danny just grinned.

“How many people have to be hurt before you get it, Pat?” The familiarity of Danny’s words pushed hard against the bravado of Pat’s and he pushed back; literally.

“Sorry, but she needs time.” Danny spoke softly; almost like a father speaking to a disappointed child as he stood his ground.

“That’s the problem right there! There is no ‘she!’ That’s my son.” His voice seemed to almost break from the stress. A second later he felt a hand on his back.

“Pastor McKenna? What seems to be the problem?” Dr. Alaampoor stood next to Pat and tilted her head in question. She knew exactly what the problem was, and it didn’t lie inside the doorway.

“This boy won’t get out of the way….” He shot a mean glance at Danny and continued.
“I want to see my son.”

“I’m sorry, but your daughter is of age and as such I cannot allow her to be disturbed; even by a parent. I recommend you contact her once she is settled at home.

“That’s what I’m here for…to take him home. And another thing; why do you insist on calling him ‘her?’ That’s my son.” Pat looked as if he would try to push past Danny but the idea quickly faded as Danny stepped back and against the door with his arms folded.

“Your child has been through a significant trauma and needs your understanding. I know you’re a parent and you also are a visiting chaplain here. What you do outside of this building and even this hospital may be your concern but what you do while you stand here is mine. Your child will be safe enough and I believe she’ll be in excellent hands.” Dr. Alaampoor resisted the urge to smile and kept her expression almost dead-pan. That only seemed to fuel Pat’s outrage.

“You can’t!” He said as he went to push past Danny.

“She can and she just did. You may own everything out there, but not here and not now.” Danny took his hand and grabbed Pat’s wrist; pulling it away from the door.

“I’m going to complain to the administration. I have friends on the board!” Pat said, backing away; his face growing hot and dark.

“I am truly sorry you feel that way, Pastor McKenna,” Farah said with a half-frown.

“Oh…and Pat?” Danny said. Pat turned to face him and Danny smiled before his face grew sober and his tone respectful if almost reluctant.

“Sorry for being so abrupt. But please think about who your child is? She really needs you to love her. Right now I don’t think she even loves herself.”

“There you go again…it’s not ‘herself, Danny. And you’re just playing into his sin.” Pat shook his head; his expression seemed almost earnest. Danny mirrored the head shake.

“If we say we love God? You’re withholding your love from your own child, Pat. I feel so sorry for you.” At Danny’s words, Pat made one more attempt to push past him, but Danny gently guided him away from the door. Pat’s face turned red.

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Pat said as he marched off to the elevator.

“Insha'Allah, Pastor McKenna.” She smiled and turned to see Danny stifling a grin. She shook her head and spoke.

“Tell her to call me if there’s anything I can do?” She handed Danny her business card.

“Thank you,” he said and he opened the door, only to find the curtain drawn.

“Come back in about ten, Danny. She’s changing,” Lina called from behind the curtain.

“Okay…I’ll go grab a coffee.” He walked back out and closed the door.

“She’s changing….” He mused as he laughed softly to himself, and an odd feeling seemed to tap him on the shoulder, so to speak as he walked to the stairwell across the hall.

“I don’t know what to say…” Tim looked around; four friends stood in poses that almost begged for a group hug, but it was too overwhelming and his emotions were already sitting on the surface; raw and exposed. He pulled back; literally bumping against a chair in an effort to withdraw. Lina stepped closer and held out her hand.

“Let me show you your room, okay?” She swept her hand toward the stairs. Tim nervously took her hand and stepped cautiously behind her as they disappeared.

“I can’t believe she actually tried to kill herself.” Danny said with a head shake.

“I don’t think she tried as much as she didn’t care what happened,” Noorah replied as she looked up the stairs.

“It’s my fault…” Susan lamented.

“I should have known this would happen.”

“No…we should have anticipated this, but we didn’t. And that’s all over and done with. Here and now we can support her. All of us.” Noorah smiled and made a point not to look at Danny. At the hospital she had noticed a glance here and an expression there that seemed to go beyond just being a support.

“I still feel so bad.” Susan sighed. “It was….I felt so helpless knowing what she’d done…that…”

“But she didn’t, and that’s the important thing. And we’ll be here for her, okay?” Noorah stepped closer and put her head against Susan’s.

“We can only do what we can, dear one. And we will, Insha'Allah.”

She touched Susan just under her neck; the outline of a cross barely visible underneath the hijab. A melding of hearts that allowed for two faiths as the two girls were becoming one, so to speak. Susan smiled at Noorah and looked over at Danny, whose attention seemed to be drawn to the stairs. She raised her right eyebrow playfully before drawing Noorah close. Both girls seemed to glow, but a moment later their faces grew just a bit red as Danny spoke.

“Ladies? I’ve got to get back to the hospital…I’m covering for Ingu… his wife delivered last night.” He paused and looked at the two young women and practically beamed.
“But I wanted you to know how much I really …. admire you. I think that your friendship is just what Tim needs, and I’m glad that ….she’s got you in her life.” He stumbled over the last few words; even after knowing about his friend’s situation it was still odd to call the girl Tim and use the proper pronouns. But he was also troubled in a way in how he had already begun to view this girl he had known for so long as a boy. His own face began to turn a dark pink.

“If you see Dr. Alaampoor, would you thank her again for her help?” Susan asked; seeing the growing, awkward embarrassment that Danny seemed to show as he absentmindedly turned his face away from them as he cast his glance once again at the stairs.

“Sure thing. Tell Tim… uh…..”

“Yes, Danny.” Noorah said with a grin.

“And Danny?” Susan said, getting his attention.

“It’s okay,” she practically giggled as he reached for the front door; still distracted. He nodded and grinned sheepishly before walking out.

“Now…where were we?” Noorah asked as she arched her own right brow. Susan nodded with a demure look before giving into a very welcoming kiss.

The evening went slowly with a remarkably few patients other than a boy with a broken ulna from a late afternoon bike spill and a young woman who had jammed her ankle from a fender-bender in the early evening. Danny sat down in the break room and looked at the clock on the far wall.

10:12pm.

He put his head down and tried to pray, but instead of insight all he gained was more confusion as every time he closed his eyes he was met with a vision of a young woman; short dark hair accompanied by a very sad, tearful expression. It must be God putting her on his heart, since she was so sad and discouraged. But the face distracted him and he opened his eyes, frustrated.

He looked at the clock again.

10:16pm.

He closed his eyes and began to pray; silently and with no words, but with a face to recall and a heart to do the right thing. But instead of the expected urge to be an encouragement or a support, Danny found himself staring in his mind’s eye at the girl once again. And instead of brotherly comfort, he felt an attraction; an attraction that felt selfish and foolish and would have felt wrong but for the feeling that the girl in his vision was not just a girl to help and support, but to hold and care for and love. The growing warmth in his heart was matched by a warmth on his face; an awkward and almost a child-like embarrassed blush. And Danny smiled.

Next: Love Always Believes