Dry Bones

[David Hurt]

"David! You're early."

"Hi! Yeah. Hi, Miss Wilson. Sorry. I'm not really, exactly, uhm... good... at on time. Early or late, pretty much. Usually late."

"That's fine, that's fine. Come in and have a seat." The counselor flicked off her computer monitor and rose from her chair with a warm smile of welcome while the boy found his way to one of the pair of plush chairs. As an afterthought, once he was seated, David glanced behind him and the office door swung shut with a soft click.

He still wasn't sleeping well, she noted. The dark shadows around his eyes hadn't gotten any lighter since his last visit, yet something was different. "You look better today." The words slipped out of her mouth at the same time they slid across her mind. And he did: his bow tie was straighter, his hair was cleaner if not exactly neater, his back was straighter, and behind the dark circles, his eyes paused to meet hers on their roving tour of his surroundings. "Good, I mean. You look good today, David."

"I, uhm, thanks." His cheeks flushed pink then reddened. "I I I feel good. Better, I mean. I dunno if it's 'good' good, but it feels better than... not, right?" His words trailed off, and his tie quivered and pulled tighter.

"What's on your mind?" There were days it was harder than others, and it had taken a few sessions for him to get used to it, but once they found the right combination of question, thought, and quiet space to fill, David could talk through the full hour and more. There were tangents, of course, and roundabout meanderings from one point to the next. Still, most of the time they managed to touch on or stumble upon something real. The questions, the fears, the nightmares.

"Last night. Or this morning, I guess. Not real morning, just... A.M. I had a... I woke up and and I was thinking. And I remembered the dry bones."

He saw her eyebrows lift and hurried forward, apparently determined to get something out, his eyes almost shining with a furious spark. "It was one of the E names. Elisha? Elijah? No, he was the storm and the earthquake and the quiet. Which is good and all, but... E, E, E, Ezekiel. I think. He was in this valley. Well, not really. It was kind of a dream. Vision. He got taken to this valley. Big, big valley and dusty. Probably dusty. I picture it kinda gray, even the bones. And there are tons of 'em all spread out, covering the ground. As far as he can see, it's just full of bones and there he is standing in the middle of this dry, dead place. I mean, nothing. The bones are all dry. Nothing rotting, nothing sticky or smelly or gross or any of that, just dry. Nothing left to even feed a fungus or bacteria or anything. Like the moon. That's what it looks like. One of those huge bowl crater things in the moon just full of bones and nothing. And there's this one guy brought to this place at the end of forever to see all the... nothing.

"But that's not it, you know? God talks to him, cause he's there, too. And he tells him to talk to the bones. Prophecy to 'em. Not, like, predict the future prophecy. That's not what he means. It's just... talking. He says to tell the bones that it's time to get up; they're not finished yet. Rise and shine. He says to tell them, 'You bones get up and get together. Reform. Grow. I'm going to grow you. New muscles, new skin, the whole deal. Get up.' And so the guy does it. He starts talking, prophesying, and before he's even done there's this rattle, like a snake tail or a whole canyon of snake tails, all around him. A million quiet clicks on every side, the bones moving. They do it, they get up and get in the right places and as soon as one's on top of the other, there's muscles and stuff tying it all together and skin wrapping it up and he's standing in the middle of nowhere with an army. Huge army, still as far as he can see, only now they've got faces and bodies and all. Only they're not alive. Just the stuff, none of the real deal. No breath.

"So God tells him to talk again, to tell the breath to come, the wind. And he does and it listens. All the winds come because he told 'em to and they blow through the valley all at once in this this rush of air and and and everything breathes. But then they're not things, they're people. They go from nothing to people because this guy talked to 'em. Because he got the right words. Because he he, you know, wasn't talking for himself. He wasn't alone there in the nothing.

"And that's why they use the psalm, the shepherd one, at all the funerals. About the valley of the shadow of death? Even if if we're... I'm there, it's not gonna stay that way. There are words. Out there. And we're not alone with the bones and the dry and the and the nothing.

"We're not alone. And it'll get better."