Saving Elijah

again."
    My mother's face was contorted with tears, with anguish and weeping.
    "I loved you, Dinah. I tried for you. I know I made mistakes. But it wasn't because of you, it was because of me."
    Her admission stopped me cold. I stood very still, and then I took a few steps forward, and she took a few steps forward. We had a long way to go, but still, I reached out to my mother, all the way across the miles between us. I moved toward her, and put my arms around her and we embraced, felt our arms around each other for the first time in many, many years.
    After a few moments, I told her, "She didn't blame you. I really don't think so. More likely, she blamed herself, and couldn't deal with that, so she projected it onto you." And believed she had failed as a mother for having lost her child, which meant she would ultimately fail with the children she hadn't lost.
    "Don't you think I know that!" My mother wiped her eyes and nose with her handkerchief again.
    Of course she did. But just knowing didn't help, she would have had to feel it. Only Grandma Elizabeth's effort could have helped make it right. Only the living can make amends, can reconcile with each other, or at least try.
    I heard a sizzling noise, and turned. The demon was in a corner of the kitchen, got up in its Seth disguise, black boots, pink skin. It eyed me coldly. But it didn't move, and for once it said nothing. I blinked and it was gone.
    I sat with my mother for a while, neither of us speaking, then she said, "I'm sorry, Dinah, I'm keeping you up when you need your rest. Here I've come to try to help you, and I'm the one blubbering like a baby."
    "It's all right, Mom." It felt so weird to call her Mom after all these years, but there it was, I was doing it.
    I walked her back to the guest room, then I returned to my own bed, where I fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep, alone for the first time in days. I dreamed.

    *    *    *

    In the dream, the phone rings, and I pick it up, and I hear the voice of the undertaker. He says, "I'm sorry to bother you now, but I'm preparing your son's body for burial, and I want everything to be right. I have everything I need to dress him—his jeans, his sneakers, his shirt—but I noticed I only have one sock here. Would it be okay if I drive over to pick up another sock?" In the dream, his odd kindness moves me tremendously, and makes me cry.

    *    *    *

    I opened my eyes in a glorious pink sunrise, realizing that it had been the first dream I'd had since all of this began in which I was able to even take notice of a kindness shown me after the death of my son. For that, it was memorable.
    A real phone was ringing, too. Perhaps I wouldn't have even remembered the dream if the phone hadn't wakened me. I glanced at the bedside clock. Nine a.m. I'd slept late. Could it be Sam calling? Oh, Sam.
    I fumbled for the receiver. "Hello?"
    "Mrs. Galligan?" A woman's voice, familiar somehow. "This is Sarah Gray."
    "Who? I'm sorry, I—"
    "We met at the hospital. Elijah was having an EEG. I'm Maggie's mother."
    "Oh, yes." I got out of bed. "Hello." It was still dark in my bedroom, the shades were drawn. I could hear the children chasing each other, laughing.
    "I'm very sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to tell you that my daughter has gone into remission. Maggie's well again."
    Why was she calling me? "Well, that's wonderful, Sarah."
    "Mrs. Galligan, her white count is just about normal. Miraculously."
    "I'm very happy for you."
    "Do you understand what I'm saying? The doctors had given my daughter only a few months to live, and now she's completely well. Elijah has the gift." She was speaking so softly that I could hardly hear what she was saying.
    "The gift?"
    "The gift of healing, Mrs. Galligan. Your son, your little boy, healed my Maggie."

    *    *    *

    When I came into the kitchen a few minutes later, my mother was standing at the stove, mixing up batter for pancakes. She was wearing a silk robe, and she had put on some makeup.
    "Hope you don't mind." She didn't look at me, and I had the impression she was embarrassed about what had happened in the night.
    "Of course not, Mom. The kids won't be up for a while yet, though. I'll have to drive them to their stuff."
    "Then I think I'll go take my shower now, and put on my face."
    It looked already put on to me. "Yes, go ahead."
    She took a cup of coffee with her. I poured one for myself.
    "Mommy?" Elijah was standing there.
    "You woke up by yourself,