Thou Shalt Not by Jj Rossum

had made no mention of a surgery of any kind.
    I paced around the waiting room until Walt came out, looking wearier than I had ever remembered seeing him. He was five years older than Robin, but didn’t look to be in his fifties if you subtracted the heavily graying goatee he was sporting. He stood a few inches taller than I did when he wasn’t slouching, which was something Robin railed against often. He had kind eyes, and an even kinder heart.
    I gave him a hug, and it almost felt like he might collapse in my arms.
    “How is she? What’s going on?” I asked. I was not sure if this was protocol, or even considerate, but I needed to know. Emergency surgery sounded bad.
    “I’m not even sure,” he sighed. “I told you she woke up in pretty terrible pain. Kept grabbing her chest, saying how badly it hurt. So, I drove her here and when the doctor took one look at her, he ordered surgery.”
    “For what? Do you know?”
    “He said something about a possible aneurysm. Near the chest? I don’t know, she’s been on all kinds of medication lately, I guess it could be anything.”
    I led him over to the seats and made him sit down. He buried his head in his hands, clearly emotionally and physically exhausted.
    “God, I hope she’s going to be okay,” he said.
    I put my left arm around him and we just sat there in silence for a little bit.
    My mind took me back to all the times they had been with me when Carrie was sick, how they had been there with me through it all. I remembered all their prayers for her, the nights they would spend outside her hospital room praying, especially during the pneumonia episode when we thought we would lose her.
    I felt like prayer was what Walt needed, what might give him a little peace. T he only problem was that I didn’t feel quite as...religious as I knew Walt and Robin were. They were in church every time the doors were open, taught Sunday School classes and led Bible studies. They had gone on a few mission trips over the years, and always seemed to be finding time to do volunteer work in children’s homes and shelters. These were all things I had admired about them, respected about their character. They practiced what they preached, always.
    I had grown up in a strict Christian home, had gone to “private” schools my entire life until college. I knew my share of Bible stories and had been required to memorize all kinds of passages throughout my life. They popped up every now and then at the strangest times. I had stayed fairly active in church, along with Carrie, until she got sick. Now, I don’t think I’ve been to church in four years at least. It just isn’t for me. I’m mostly done with it all, I think. Robin and Walt both knew this, and loved me anyway.
    But, I needed to pray for Walt. Somehow, I knew I needed to.
    “Can I pray for you, Walt? And for her?”
    He lifted his face out of his hands and raised it toward mine. He had been softly crying, and the tears were in his eyes, but he seemed genuinely shocked at my offer. I was kind of shocked myself. I can’t even remember the last time I prayed, except for earlier in the evening when my request was for Marco Batista to fuck up.
    Maybe I shouldn’t be praying for the Gearys. My prayers have a history of not being answered the way I’d hoped.
    “Yes, please,” he replied. “Please. Thank you, Luke.”
    “Okay.”
    I felt even more uncomfortable now that he said yes. He lowered his head back into his hands, as if expecting me to begin right away. Working in a Christian school and hearing prayers every day has prevented me from becoming completely uninformed on how to do it, but that didn’t make me any more at ease. Probably less so.
    The old man in the makeshift bed began to stir, and I mentally prayed (okay, so maybe I threw up a lot of quick mental prayers) that he wouldn’t wake up and hear my out-loud prayer. To my surprise, my brief prayer seemed to be answered as he settled back into his slumber. I