Rich notes floated in the air as Dr. Truman step inside. Piano music. In the corner sat a large organ piano. Father Joseph watched as Julian’s hands flew over the keys. Truman recognized it as Far from Home by Five Finger Death Punch. Joseph noticed Truman first.
“Welcome Truman. Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said, and stuck out his hand.
Dr. Truman took it. “Thanks for calling.” In a whisper, he added, “Did Julian say anything?”
“Just those demons wanted to know where an angel was and they attacked him.” The teenager never even stopped playing. A serene expression permanently stayed on his feminine face. His full lip in a sensual pout. The only thing out of place were those scratches, frost bitten arms, and a bit of his right ear missing. His hair horrible disheveled and covered in snow, blond bangs tipped with blood.
“Julian, will you stop playing.” It wasn’t a question. “I need to check your wounds. And where’s your jacket? It’s thirty degrees,” Dr. Truman said and grabbed his wrists. Julian seemed to finally notice the good doctor. “What happened?”
“Let me finish Doc,” Julian said and moved out of Truman’s grasp. He continued playing while explaining what happened. Dried blood caked in the wounds. “Then more demons attacked me and wanted to know where an angel was. But they never said which angel. They must be pretty important if demons want them.”
Truman rummaged through a brown bag and unwrapped bandages. “You need to come back to the hospital. Your ankle looks bad.” He was right. His sneaker had to be taken off because he could barely move it. Now an ice pack had been tied to his ankle with gauze. Julian pounded the final key.
“No. Church is the only place they can’t get me,” he said and let Truman rub peroxide on his ear. “May I spend the night Father?”
“There is an extra room in the back. I’ll find some blankets.” Truman quickly caught up with him at the door of a storage room. Julian’s music continued to fill the old church.
“This isn’t wise Father. He needs to be back at the hospital.” Joseph dusted off a heavy blanket and faced Truman.
“He doesn’t have anybody left. Let Julian think people still care about him.” With that, he headed down a hallway. Truman was shocked. The boy’s mother and step-father haven’t been to the hospital in years but he assumed they spoke on the phone or wrote letters. He watched Julian play God Rest Ye Marry Gentle, looking as serene as ever. He knew he never interacted with other patients or nurses besides him, but he rather enjoyed speaking with strangers. Could he be that lonely?
Truman gave in and let Julian stay. Giving one final glance up, Julian grinned.