This almost awed him as much as the tight teeth. When he thought that, a delayed reaction set in to a change of mind that had been going on ever since he left the custodian. Now Gregory was dizzy with elation: for the first time in his life, he thought, someone had done something great for him … and without wanting anything back … and without his asking. He’d always taken it for granted that the worst would most likely happen unless you did something to prevent it, and his twenty-one years of experience seemed to prove his point—up to now. He felt half embarrassed, but there was no doubt of it; the universe or God or chance or just the fates had unquestioningly somehow blessed his presence. And not just with a trifling pat on the back, but by giving him suddenly proof of…. His thoughts boggled. Proof of what? He didn’t believe the guy was Christ, for instance … but when Window believed he was Christ—wow!

And the guy responsible, Gregory thought, was locked up inside the psych center, frightened, probably afraid that the authorities would find out about his abilities, and do what? What could they do? he wondered. Kick him out on his ass, Gregory supposed. Then he remembered: When he believed he was Christ, the custodian also was sure he’d be crucified.

Well, he wouldn’t be—not in any way, shape, or manner, Gregory told himself resolutely. And in that moment, Gregory felt the first strong purpose of his life; he was going to help the custodian somehow, someway. It didn’t occur to him that he was thinking of someone else for the first time in his life, too. The big question in his mind was, How could he help?

“I’ll just walk right into the newspaper once and tell my story,” he thought, imagining an awed reception, the reporters interviewing Window, Window healing the masses of people who came to see him…. But then Gregory’s smile faded; that would scare the custodian to death. “Shit,” he muttered. It was then that he felt almost inspired—or at least the solution came instantly to mind. Before anything else, he had to show the dentist the change in his mouth. Oh, Christ! Tears of laughter fell from his eyes as Gregory imagined Dr. Brainbridge when he saw those tight teeth in the healed gums. What could he say? What could the poor bastard say?

Chapter Eight

Dr. Brainbridge Is Confronted with Proof of the Impossible: Or Is He?