You always manage to keep me on my toes!
“But it’s Superman out there,” Jacob said, his eyes wide and shining. He was unnaturally thin and bald and it had been a long time since Anita had seen any expression on his face other than pain and sadness.
There it is again. One and a half sentences, and we are very near to this terribly sick and sad little boy. You do it perfectly!
By the way, this is the second minor character named Jacob in your story. Do I sense a pattern?
Anita’s hands were shaking, although she tried to calm herself. It wouldn’t do to let Jacob see that she was afraid. Children took their cues from adults, and as long as she didn’t show fear, he would be all right.
I renember clearly the stories my mother told us kids from her youth during World War II. She also told us from those nights in their cellars when overhead the bombs were raining down. My grandparents did the same to keep their children quiet, it included also a lot of praying... I immediately thought of this when I read this passage.
Jacob waved his tiny hand, and the man turned toward him.
“Can you heal me?” he asked.
and
“Can I go flying with you?”
The man smiled. “Maybe later, when you are feeling a little stronger. No promises though…I have a lot of people to save tonight. If I get a chance to come back and see you I will. What’s your name?”
“Jacob Richardson,” the boy said.
In the reflected light of the lantern, Jacob’s face almost seemed to glow.
As I wrote above, I´m not sure about a pattern. But I´m nearly sure of the reference you are using here... Biblical? Jacob wrestling with the Angel, until he consented to give him a benediction?
Very, very moving! So beautiful!
