by Scott Ennis
And yet Saul’s recollection of the conversation was perfect as he ran up the stairs to the condo.
“Where are the passports?”
“I think they are in the safe. Why?”
“We need them to go to China.”
“I have the suitcases ready and Paulette is dressed. Do you want to come with us? God didn’t say.”
“Yes. I would like to go to China with you. Give me a few minutes to get there. I’ll get the passports out of the safe.”
“Okay. I’ll pack a suit for you. We need to look our best.”
Suzanne sat patiently on the couch, dressed in her fitted gold dress. Paulette, in her black and white satin Sunday dress, was playing with her doll-sized suitcase like it was a vacuum cleaner.
“Saul,” asked Suzanne with a look of distant curiosity, “What’s happening? God wants us to go, but I don’t understand why. Are there cameras in the faucets? I think my department head is posting naked pictures of me on the Internet. What’s happening Saul?”
Paulette cried; Saul refrained. “I don’t want to go to Tanney’s. Mommy said we were going to China.”
His 4 year-old daughter’s tears echoed in the whimpering whisper of Suzanne’s voice late into the night as Saul sat at the foot of their bed. The doctor said she might not sleep that night, even with the Xanax.
“Can you smell the sweet onions? I saw the sky crack and a bird fell down through the pieces.”