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Read books online Ā» Fiction Ā» Chasing A Miracle by Eliot Hartford Bailey (books to get back into reading txt) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«Chasing A Miracle by Eliot Hartford Bailey (books to get back into reading txt) šŸ“–Ā». Author Eliot Hartford Bailey



Chasing a Miracle

 

Chapter 1: Home

 

Looking out the window, Adam sighed as the plane started its descent.

ā€œGoing home?ā€ asked the gray-haired woman next to him.

Thankfully sheā€™d been asleep most of the flight. Small talk was fine, but inevitably, heā€™d have to lie at some point. He never got used to that part of his job. Fortunately, he didnā€™t have to make the usual chit-chat about the purpose of his trip, spouting falsities about a relaxing vacation or a business meeting with foreign investors. He couldnā€™t tell her the truth about what he was really doing. He doubted anyone would have believed him anyway.

ā€œYeah. Home.ā€ It would be good to go home, Adam thought. But home was a long way off. His report was due as soon as he landed. And in all likelihood, theyā€™d want to debrief him, too. Easily another couple hours and by then the house would be dark and his wife Evelyn would be sound asleep.

Adam rubbed the slight stubble on his cheek as he overlooked the wistful purple and blue clouds in the night sky. He was still staring out the tiny window when the sparkling lights appeared beneath the clouds: DC shone in the distance.

It hadnā€™t been a long trip this time, nor very far. All the same, he was anxious to get back.

Guided by the small flashing lights along the runway, the plane landed smoothly on the jet-black tarmac. A few passengers clapped, including the old lady next to him--a round of applause for the captain. Adam smiled to himself.

ā€œYou just never know,ā€ she said, shaking her head with relief. ā€œHappens all the time. One minute everythingā€™s fine, and the next...ā€ she trailed off. ā€œThank God we had a safe flight.ā€

ā€œFor sure,ā€ Adam said, smiling to himself. For them, he supposed, this was a modern miracle. A gigantic metal eagle had carried them safely to their destination. Another successful trip concluded, and without incident; they were back safely on the ground.

Adamā€™s smile faded, as he returned his gaze to the darkening sky outside the window. Life would be easier if he could believe in the mysterious work of an omnipresent universal force, the same way that his fellow passengers did. But, this wasnā€™t a miracle. It was science, coupled with the pilotā€™s training and skill.

Heā€™d seen a true miracle. Several, in fact. He investigated and researched unexplained occurrences, so it wasnā€™t exactly seeing the impossible firsthand but pretty damn close. He'd also seen the other kind, too. Hoaxes, shams, illusions--they were far more common than the real thing.

A miracle isnā€™t a miracle until itā€™s proven; Adamā€™s mantra echoed in his head. For most, it was easier to see what they wanted to believe in, rather than the cold hard clinical truth that Adam focused on. For him, looking at reality head-on was a way of life. Until a miracle is proven, itā€™s simply a claim, a belief, a hypothesis to be investigated. Of course, disproving a hoax is far simpler than proving a genuine act of divine intervention. But Adam hadnā€™t been chosen for the position because the job was easy. Miracle investigator--there was no college course or internship offering training in his field.

Of course, part of the issue is that ā€˜miracleā€™ is a murky term. Every day, mundane events are passed off as ā€˜miraclesā€™. People casually exclaim a miracle when describing moments of good fortune, events that can be chalked up to luck or coincidence. Finding a set of keys lurking behind the sofa cushion, despite checking in that spot three times before--not exactly a miraculous discovery, but people still call it exactly that. However, these rarely registered with the Bureau.

Buying a lottery ticket and ā€˜mistakenlyā€™ using the wrong number, which leads to an accidental win. More likely good luck, maybe coincidence. Miracle? Not usually, though these were sometimes enough to become a blip on the radar at work. Still, Adam was grateful when theyā€™d stopped assigning so many lottery ā€™miraclesā€™ six months ago.

On a sliding scale, a habitual lottery ticket purchaser winning a small amount of money isnā€™t noteworthy. But, Adam had investigated all manner of stories up and down that scale. Moving a few notches along, heā€™d heard better ones. Tales of convenience store clerks getting shot in the heart by thieving gunmen, only to narrowly miss their vital organs. Or--better still--a bullet stopped by a wallet in their pocket. Or--even better still, Adamā€™s case last month in France--the shot stopped by a Bible in the victimā€™s pocket. Miraculous? Perhaps. It depends who you ask. Rarely do people agree, depending on their faith or their skepticism.

And who decides what is or isnā€™t a miracle? Governments? The church? The people? Adam went into his current position knowing he was working in a gray zone. Theyā€™d brought him on board, tasked with making it black and white. Miracle or not. Debunk the hoax or prove divine intervention.

And he did. Examining each situation with a skeptical, scientific eye. If science couldnā€™t explain it, then thatā€™s when he looked up--to a higher power.

Adamā€™s eyes shifted upwards to the seat-belt sign in the cabin. Still on. Screw it, he thought, pulling out his cell phone.

ā€œHello?ā€ A sweet voice answered on the other end.

ā€œEvelyn.ā€ Adam practically sighed in relief. ā€œWeā€™re on the ground.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s great. How was your trip?ā€

ā€œSeemed long. How are you feeling?ā€

ā€œSame as this morning, really. Tired, a little hungry, but too nauseous to eat much.ā€

ā€œI thought the morning sickness was supposed to stop after the first trimester?ā€

Gathering his carry-on, Adam slipped seamlessly into the aisle amongst the other passengers disembarking the plane, without a pause in the conversation, filing inside a cramped tunnel to the terminal.

ā€œDr. Stone said itā€™s different for everyone. I don't know,ā€ Evelyn said, sounding slightly frustrated.

ā€œIā€™m sorry. I just wish I was there. That there was something I could do.ā€

ā€œI know. Me too.ā€ She laughed lightly. ā€œYouā€™re going in, arenā€™t you?ā€

ā€œNot for too long. But yeah, Iā€™ve got to file my report.ā€

ā€œIā€™ll probably be in bed when...ā€

ā€œI know. Iā€™ll try to be home soon. Iā€™ll be there when you wake up,ā€ he said, eyeing the customs line up ahead. ā€œLove you.ā€

ā€œYou too.ā€

 

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Publication Date: 01-31-2014

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