It was a mixed bag, Screwtape had to admit. The bomb was a total dud. All the thousands of jewels promised were lost -- at least for the time being. They might still be harvested in due time, if he could keep them from turning to the Enemy. The only bright spot -- and it was a big one -- was the survival of the promising twin and the death of the questionable one. Screwtape had even received a congratulatory call from the Chief himself! Almost unheard of. When the phone rang, Screwtape's insides shrank to the size of a pea. He was expecting, at best, severe chastisement, at worst -- but the Chief had said, "He is my son, in whom I am well pleased(!)" Screwtape could scarcely believe his good fortune. But the feeling of surprised gratitude and undeserved grace soon faded. [I am an awful demon. I deserve the respect of the Chief. I will bite the head off any miserable devil who thinks otherwise.] Screwtape had obviously been right all along -- the Chief had a personal interest in the Mary affair from the beginning -- had probably had a hand in the whole process. Screwtape patted himself on the back. This was going to work out after all.
----
It was all over the news, of course. Two suspects in failed bombing attempt. One dead. The photos were grainy, but Mary’s sharp mother’s eye recognized her son, even through the bandages. “Jerry! That means...Joey!! Joey!! Oh, Joey! My dear, sweet, kind Joey!!” Her sobs took her and shook her. Joe held his wife. That was all he could do.
When Jerry woke up two weeks later, the first thing he did was reach for Joey.
"I'm sorry. We couldn't save your brother," a young intern said. Jerry's body jerked as if it had been shocked by a million volts. "NOooooo!" he wailed. "Impossible! Joey! Joey! Joey!"
Then the tears came. Jerry's body twitched, shuddered and heaved uncontrollably under rolling, massive sobs. Freed from Joey, his body felt as if it would float off the bed. Jerry's head was light and spinning.
"Your condition is still critical," the young doctor warned. "You suffered severe injuries. You must relax. Try to relax. You have suffered severe trauma," the doctor said. "You have been in a coma for two weeks. It's a miracle you survived."
"Survived.” Jerry’s mind struggled to make sense of it. There was something about a bomb. Try to remember…
The doctor could see what Jerry was thinking. “Don’t think now,” he said. “Lie back. Relax. Let your mind rest.”
----
After a few days, Jerry’s memory started coming back. The bomb. The abortion clinic. The abortion monsters.
“Why, Joey? Why? Why? Why did you stop me? They deserved to die, not you! They must pay! I’ll get them. Why did you stop me?”
Jerry’s problem with the law did not seem to be insurmountable. The public appointed defender pushed hard to sell the theory that the twins were unwitting pawns of a right-wing extremist group. Public sympathy was on the side of the twins, due to their deformity. Jerry also benefited, being seen as one who tragically lost his twin brother -- never mind that he was killed trying to commit an act of domestic terrorism. Of course it helped Jerry’s case that Joey was the sole casualty of the bombing attempt.
During one of the doctor’s visits, he told Jerry, “You have a visitor. I think you’re strong enough now.
“Who is it?”
“Your mother.”
“No! I don’t want to see her!”
“But she’s your mother.”
“She tried to have me -- us -- killed.”
The doctor could not conceal his shock. His patient had obviously suffered more than one kind of trauma. “He won’t see you,” the doctor told Mary. “In his condition, it might be best to wait.”
“But I’ve waited so long already!” Mary cried. “I have to see my son!”
“I’m sorry. He has had so much stress. His injuries are not insignificant. I can’t allow it at this time, if he doesn’t wish it.”
Mary and Joe moved to an apartment in town to be near the hospital. She called the hospital every day. “At least let me talk to him on the phone, won’t you?”
----
After a month of rehabilitation, Jerry finally agreed to speak to his mother on the phone.
“Jerry.” No response.
“Jerry, say something, please. I know you are angry. Please forgive me.”
“He’s dead! You finally got your wish!” Jerry blurted out.
Mary winced and turned her head away. “I loved him better than my life!” she cried. “I love you both. Let me see you, please! I’ve got to see you; know you’re all right.”
“I’m all right, Mom. How could I not be? My mother tried to kill me and failed. And now Joey’s dead. My fault. No, I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry about me.” Jerry hung up the phone.
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