You Can’t Keep the Bad Things From Happening
Written by Emma McCoy
5 minute read
“Previously on” Eli:
Eli, a nurse, first met Darla when he was assisting her with dialysis treatments. Though Darla was several decades older and terminally ill, they struck up a friendly relationship, which turned deeper when Eli’s newborn had to stay in the NICU for several months and required heart surgery. At Darla’s funeral, Eli came alone, wondering what to with his grief. Shortly after, he met Candy and Nina, two women from a local recovery house dealing with a workplace injury. Months later, he’s still thinking about a conversation he’d overheard between them.
It was hot outside, the kind of hot where the only place to be was on the porch in the shade, sitting under the fan with a sweating pitcher of lemonade. Eli was down to his shorts and a Zac Brown Band t-shirt from college, while his daughter ran around in a sundress stained with strawberry popsicle. Ruth was three now, blowing past all the doctor’s predictions. Her heart was fine. Her checkups were now six months apart. Except for a scar on her chest, she was like any other kid.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Eli’s wife came out with two glasses. Sarah taught second grade, so she had the summers off, and Eli worked four twelve hour shifts, which made days like this one so special. The errands were done, no one had to work, and Ruth rolled in the grass, determined to master a summersault.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“I know that face,” Sarah said. “Something at the hospital?”
“No,” he replied. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to ruin a nice moment.”
Sarah looked out at their daughter like she knew what he meant. Then she chuckled. “I’m sweating in places humans shouldn’t be allowed to sweat. I think the moment is ruined enough.”
Ruth had Sarah’s red hair—her first haircut had been last month, and the newly shortened strands fell in her sweaty face as she tumbled again and again.
“I keep thinking about how wonderful this is.” Eli watched as Ruth spit out grass. “And when she was born, the rug was pulled from under us. She was fighting for her life immediately. So now, watching her when everything is fine…”
“You wonder when the rug will get pulled again,” Sarah finished.
“Yeah.” Eli had always known that he’d loved Sarah. He loved everything about her, so when they found out she was pregnant only a few months into dating, it hadn’t scared him. He’d been determined to be there for his family, and make everything alright. He hadn’t been scared until he’d seen Ruth through a thick pane of glass, struggling to breathe.
“You can’t keep the bad things from happening,” Sarah said. “It’s hard to know in your body, though. I still wake up and have to go to her room to make sure she’s still breathing.”
You can’t keep the bad things from happening. The phrase rung a bell in his mind. What did it remind him of?
“A few months ago I had this patient,” Eli said. “She’d really hurt herself falling at work and was there with her friend. I think they were from some kind of religious rehab program or something.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s the way they were talking. The patient refused opioids and her friend said…wait a sec, I want to get it right. She ‘not by your strength.’ Like they weren’t going to be able to get through by just toughing it out.”
Sarah shrugged. “Sounds like they’ve found the power of Jesus, or whatever it is he’s got going on.” She paused when she looked at her husband’s face. “Are you thinking about them?”
“Yeah. I just…I like how certain they were. That they wouldn’t be able to hold it together just by trying harder.”
It was too hot to hug, so Sarah put her hand on Eli’s arm. “You do so much,” she said softly. “And neither one of us can keep her safe from the world.”
Eli didn’t respond, mostly because he wasn’t sure what to say. He had meant it—he liked how sure those women were that they wouldn’t be able to make it on their own. It’s like they were living his worst fear, but they weren’t afraid.
He wondered what it would be like, to live like that.
Who in your life would you like to share this with?
About the author
Spring Church member, Emma McCoy (M.A.), has two poetry books: This Voice Has an Echo (2024) and In Case I Live Forever (2022). She’s been published in places like Across the Margin, Stirring Literary, and Thimble Mag. She reads for Chestnut Review and Whale Road Review. She’s probably working on her novel right now. Catch her on Substack: https://poetrybyemma.substack.com/