The Lazarus Dilemma

The Lazarus Dilemma. The sated man lay face down on the bed, spread eagled with one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress and one foot poking out from the covers, although the blankets only covered him just over his buttocks. His gentle snores amused the woman as she suckled her son, her twinkling eyes leaving the man’s form with reluctance as she checked on her other infant son, studiously gripping his feet in the cradle. The lovemaking had been extraordinarily intense, leaving her contented and replete, the cries of their twin sons dragging her from her husband’s warm embrace with great reluctance. The four month old boys were taking a lot out of her, especially as she insisted on breast feeding them both. Matthieu, the one at present sucking greedily was the oldest by seven minutes. His brother Henri, though junior was the more placid of the two. It wasn’t often he was fed first, his older brother making his displeasure at having to wait very obvious. Henri on the other hand was content to bide his time, seemingly knowing instinctively his mother would feed him eventually. The soft tapping on the bedroom door made the woman smile. “Come in Jacques.” The four year old peeked in and, seeing his father asleep, tiptoed over to his mother and settled a hand on her arm as he watched her feed his little brother. Gently rocking in the antique wooden chair beside the bed, the woman put one foot on the mattress and leaned down to kiss her eldest son’s forehead. Jacques’s soft giggle and whisper made the woman smile. “Papa’s snoring.” Whispering herself, the woman agreed. “Yes he is. Why don’t you hop in with him? It’s nearly time for him to wake up.” The dark hazel eyes, so reminiscent of his father gleamed and the grin made his dimples indent. His resemblance to his father was remarkable, even down to his dimpled chin. The little boy crept over to the bed with exaggerated care and, mustering all his stealth, insinuated himself onto the mattress and next to his father’s somnolent body. As soon as the man sensed his son’s touch the snoring abruptly stopped. With awareness slowly rising, he groped at the blankets and pulled them higher up his naked body. Jacques, in a moment of mischief, lifted the blankets and giggled delightedly as he uttered breathlessly, “Papa you’re not wearing anything!” His head turned away from his son, the man growled and used his outstretched arm to make a grab for the boy. Considering only seconds before he had been blissfully asleep, his reflexes were astonishing. Captured by one large strong hand, the boy giggled and made a half-hearted attempt to struggle free. The man turned his head and tucked his free arm under him so as to better tickle his son. The giggles turned into squeals and the woman sighed dramatically. “Jean-Luc stop torturing the boy! You’re disturbing the twins.” Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Starship Enterprise rose up on an elbow and blurted on his son’s stomach. As Jacques screwed his face up in disgust, Jean-Luc lifted his head and grinned at his wife. “Good morning Beverly.” 1