Free The God Project by John Saul Page A

funeral. He rarely attended funerals at all, and particularly avoided the funerals of his patients. To him, a funeral was little more than a painful reminder of his own failure.
    But this one was different Julie Montgomery had not been his patient, not since the day he’d delivered her. No, this time his patient was still alive. But he had delivered Sally herself, as well as her two children, and she had been on his roster for as long as she had needed the services of an obstetrician-gynecologist. Over the years he had come to regard her with an almost paternal affection. One of his special girls, as he thought of them.
    So he had come today, even though he hated funerals, and now, as the service drew to a close, he was beginning to wish he’d stayed away after all. He was going to have to speak to Sally, and he knew the words of condolence would not come easy to him. In the familiar surroundings of his office, the right words always came easily. But here, faced with a patient whose problem was beyond his medical expertise, he was at a loss. And yet, something had to be said. He started toward Sally.
    She had nearly reached the car when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned and found herself looking into the troubled eyes of Arthur Wiseman.
    “Sally—” he began.
    “It was good of you to come, Dr. Wiseman,” Sally said, her voice barely audible.
    “I know how difficult this must be for you …” Wiseman said. Then his voice faltered, and he fell silent.
    Sally stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. “Do you?” she asked at last. Suddenly, with no forewarning at all, she found her entire being flooded with anger. Why couldn’t he find the right words to comfort her? He was a doctor, wasn’t he?
Her
doctor? Wasn’t it his
job
to know what to say at a time like this? She glared at him, her face a mask of pain and anger. “Do you know how difficult it is for me?” she demanded. “Do you know what it feels like to lose your baby and not even know why?”
    Stung, Arthur Wiseman glanced around the cemetery as if he were looking for a means of escape. “No, of course I can’t feel what you’re feeling,” he muttered at last as Sally’s gaze remained fixed upon him. “But I hope I can understand it” He could see that she was no longer listening to him as she searched the cemetery for—what? Her husband, probably. Wiseman kept talking, hoping Steve would appear. “I do know how hard it is, Sally. Even for doctors who see death all the time, it’s still hard. Especially in cases like Julie’s—”
    “Julie?” Sally repeated. At mention of her daughter’s name, her attention shifted back to the doctor. “What about Julie?”
    Wiseman paused, looking deeply into Sally’s eyes. There was something in them—a sort of flickering glow—that told him Sally was on the edge of losing control. He searched his mind for something to say, anything that might ease her pain. “But we’re learning, Sally. Every year we’re learning a little more. I know it’s no help to you, but someday well know what causes SIDS-”
    “It wasn’t SIDS,” Sally interrupted. “Something happened to Julie.” Her voice rose and took on a shrillness that Wiseman immediately recognized as the beginnings of hysteria. “I don’t know what it was,” Sally plunged on, “but I’m going to find out. It wasn’t SIDS—it was something else. Julie was fine. She was just fine!”
    Wiseman listened helplessly as Sally’s hysteria soared, certain that he’d been wrong to come to the funeral, wrong to speak to Sally Montgomery right now. Here, today, he could see the true depths of her grief. When the time came for her to begin dealing with the reality of her loss, would he be able to help her? He was glad when Steve Montgomery, accompanied by Sally’s mother and Jason, appeared beside her.
    “Sally?” Steve asked. Sally’s gaze shifted over to him, and Steve, too, saw the strange light in her eyes. “Are you