Dream of Me

by Quinn Loftis

  “I don’t know,” Serenity answered honestly. “I’ve heard people talk about destiny and fate, and I have wondered if someone could stray from the path destined for them. Would there be no opportunity to get back on it? Would there be a plan B?”

  “Do you have an answer to your questions?” the Creator asked.

  Serenity thought about it. Even though she couldn’t feel any physical ‘arms,’ she felt as though she were being wrapped in a warm embrace―one that was full of love, peace, and comfort. She knew that, as the one that created her, he would want her to fulfill her purpose. After all, her parents had created her physical body, and they cheered her on every step of the way. They held her when she cried, they instructed when she failed, and they believed in her when she doubted herself. If her parents felt that way about her, how much more would the Creator, who created her spirit and ordained every day of her life, care about her. Surely he would give second chances, and third and fourth and fifth for that matter. He knew his children better than anyone, and he certainly knew their propensities to wander. So there had to be more than one way to fulfill her destiny.

  “Yes, I think that there must be more than one path, more than one option.” She felt his approval. When he said nothing more, she asked her own question. “Is my life over? Was that my path?”

  “You fulfilled one purpose in the life given to you,” he told her. “There has been an outcry on your behalf by those who love you. I created humans in my image, and therefore their emotions are strong, though they are only a fraction of what I feel. Death is a very difficult truth for them to process, and they see it only as a negative result. They do not consider that in death you are truly being born into a life that will go on forever, spent with me as you were designed to in the beginning. There is no grief, no pain, or disease. There is no anger, hatred, wars, or natural disasters. With me there is only ever peace. That is what death is—simply a new birth into a new life.” There was a pause and Serenity thought he might not say anything else. But then his voice rumbled across the field once more.

  “I can hear the cries of my people. They desire you to stay with them. But I want to hear from you. Daughter of mine, what is it that you want? What resides in your heart of hearts? Do you feel that there is still a purpose left for you on earth?”

  Serenity plopped down ungracefully on the soft grass under the weight of his questions. Those were doozies. He wasn’t asking her favorite color or food; he was asking whether she wanted to live or die.

  “Does my answer affect the outcome?” she asked.

  “It is how it was always to be.”

  Serenity wasn’t sure what that meant. Did that mean that her choice was already decided and had been before he ever asked her, and therefore, the outcome could never have been changed regardless of the cries of her family and friends? She supposed that that was a question she could wrestle with for eternity and never find the answer. Her little brain couldn’t even scratch the surface of understanding the Creator, much less form a working knowledge of predestination.

  Serenity thought about His words―about how in death she wouldn’t experience all the painful things of life. She thought about eternal peace and everlasting joy, but she still couldn’t really grasp them. All she had known her eighteen years was the struggles of life on earth. Did she want to go back to that? And if she decided she did, did that make her ungrateful for the gift that the Creator offered in the afterlife? Because if she was truly honest with herself, though she loved the peace she felt now, there was a big part of her that wasn’t done living.

  “You gave your creations life, right?”

  “Yes, child, I created them and blew breath into them.”

  “So you must have wanted them to live and experience the world that you created. I’m not talking about all the messed up stuff; I don’t even want to get into that. I just mean the things that make life worth living―the love of good parents, the miracle of birth, birthday cakes, and dancing with friends. There is such an abundance of life that I still haven’t experienced― being proposed to, a wedding, children, and all that comes with them. There is joy in the life you created that I haven’t felt and I want to.”

  “What if those things aren’t yours to have in life? If there were no children in your future or no wedding?” He asked and it was a difficult question.

  Serenity swallowed down the disappointment and looked past the sorrow of never having those things. There was more to life, wasn’t there? It wasn’t all about the love of a man and woman or raising children. There had to be more.

  “Then I will find joy in the other things. Humans aren’t the only thing you created. I mean, you created this huge round ball of water and land and beauty and mystery. There is plenty for me to find purpose in even if I am not to have a husband or children.”

  “So you have made your choice then?” the Creator asked her.

  “I have. I want to live. If there is more for me to do then I want to do it.”

  Emma’s tears had finally stopped. Her tears had flowed until her head hurt as much as her heart. She had rung in the New Year with her aunt being arrested, Rat dying, and Serenity saving Emma’s life and fighting for her own. Now as she sat in the dim hospital waiting room with Darla holding her hand and Wayne pacing the already worn path from one end of the room to the other, there were no tears left. What was the point in crying? Tears didn’t solve a problem. They didn’t bring someone back to life or undo a horrible event. Tears simply left her with an ugly headache and puffy eyes. Just as those thoughts crossed Emma’s mind, a memory surfaced of her mother.

  “I hate crying. It doesn’t fix anything. Mama, why do we have tears?” Emma had once asked.

  “God wanted us to be able to wash away the things in this life that bring us pain. He gave us tears because crying is like cleaning the slate. You’re right child; tears don’t fix whatever it is that might be wrong, but they do cleanse us and help make us ready to move forward.”

  Emma didn’t feel cleansed. Even after all those tears, she didn’t feel ready to move forward. She understood what her mama had been saying, but right in that moment the only thing she could see was a friend who had sacrificed herself for her.

  “Darla, why is there so much ugly in this world?” Emma asked, her voice raspy from crying.

  Emma’s small hand was in Darla’s and the older woman squeezed it gently. “So that we could appreciate beauty.”

  “There was nothing beautiful to appreciate tonight.”

  Darla shook her head. “I have to kindly disagree.”

  Emma’s head turned as she looked up at her. Darla had her full attention because she couldn’t imagine, after all the horrible events of the night, anything could possibly be beautiful.

  “Serenity loves you like a sister. She loves you so much that she was willing to die so that you wouldn’t have to. That is beautiful, Emma Jean. And you are here in this waiting room. Though you’re tired, scared, and have no clue what the future holds, you are here waiting because you care about Serenity. That, too, is beautiful. Painful? Definitely, but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful.”

  Glory, who had been quiet most of the time let out a sigh. “Leave it to Darla to find the beauty in this and damn it if she isn’t right.” She looked at Emma. “Serenity loves you, and it’s not hard to see why. You Emma, are beautiful too.”

  “I don’t want her to die,” Emma said suddenly and the tears that she thought she couldn’t possibly cry anymore welled up again.

  “Oh, baby,” Darla soothed as she wrapped her arms around Emma. “I know you don’t. None of us do. Serenity is like you. She’s unique—special—and everyone who meets her knows it. She’s also strong and a fighter.”

  Emma shuddered. “But what if fighting isn’t enough? Mama said that we all have a time we’re appointed to go. She said that we can’t expect to live forever, and when it’s time there is no amount of medicine or man’s wisdom that can stop it.”

 
Darla pulled back and looked down at her. “I wish I could have known your mama.” She smiled and Emma couldn’t help the small smile that pulled on her lips. Darla had that effect on people; she was contagious.

  “She would have liked you too,” Emma agreed.

  Darla’s face grew serious then as she looked into Emma’s eyes. “If this is Serenity’s time you have to make peace with that. You have to accept that she lived her life caring about others and died the same way. There is a reason that bullet hit her tonight and not you, Emma. So you grieve and you be angry and you mourn, but then you dry your tears and you figure out what it is that you’re supposed to do and you do it.”

  “What if I can’t?” Emma’s lip quivered as she tried so desperately to hold herself together.

  “You can’t, not on your own,” Darla’s eyes sparkled. “But you aren’t alone. You have me and Wayne, Glory and Dair and your very own guardian angel, not to mention all the ladies at the library.” She winked at her. “You are surrounded by people who love you and want to see you succeed. Never forget that.”

  Emma said thank you because she didn’t know what else to say, and even that felt so very inadequate for the gratitude she felt. She, Darla and Glory sat in silence after their talk. There was nothing left to say or do but to wait. Finally the doors to the room where Serenity had been taken opened and a very tired looking doctor walked out. Glory and Darla stood and pulled Emma up with them. They, Wayne, and Raphael all converged on the doctor but none of them said anything.

  “You are Ms. Tillman’s family?” the doctor asked.

  Darla nodded. “She’s our niece and she lives with us.”

  The doctor let out a slow breath. “The bullet that struck your niece was the kind that shatters on impact. So instead of a clean entry and exit, it destroys more than just where it hits. We had to do a transfusion and fix some major arteries. She’s stable, but not conscious. As far as we can figure, she must have hit her head when she fell after being shot because she has quite a lot of swelling around her brain.”

  “When will she wake up?” Wayne asked.

  “We don’t know if she will.”

  “Is she going to live?” Darla’s voice was tight with emotion.

  “Honestly, that remains to be seen. Head injuries are unpredictable. Right now all we can do is wait. The nurses are getting her set up in the ICU. Visiting hours are over, but I’ve told them to let one of you go back and see her for a few minutes.”

  The doctor gave his condolences for not having better news before heading back in the direction from which he came. Things were quiet after that as they waited for the nurse. Emma hadn’t given much thought to what would happen after that night. The police had allowed Darla and Wayne to take Emma into their custody while they tried to get in touch with DHS, and so she had just assumed that she wouldn’t have to deal with those worries for a few days at least. You know what they say about assuming.

  The clickity clacking of high heeled shoes echoing off the quiet hospital walls drew all of their attention. The short, dumpy woman dressed in business attire before them was not the nurse they were expecting.

  “Emma Jean?” she asked as she stepped onto the carpeted area of the waiting room.

  Darla stood and stepped in front of Emma. “Emma’s been placed in our custody for the time being,” she said boldly to the short woman.

  The woman nodded impatiently and started flipping through a folder. “Yes, yes, the police told me but it seems you won’t have to take on the burden; we’ve found a place for her to go.”

  “I assure you,” Darla said as her voice dropped and Emma heard Wayne mumble uh-oh under his breath, “that she is not a burden.”

  The woman, who Emma had figured out was from DHS, simply waved Darla’s obvious ire off. “Of course not, of course not. I just mean that you don’t have to worry about her. She can come with me.” She held out her hand fully expecting Emma to take it.

  “Where are you planning on taking her exactly?” Darla asked in clipped tones.

  “That’s not something I have to discuss with you. Emma is a ward of the state and the state decides what’s best for her.”

  Emma could tell that the woman was getting frustrated that Darla wasn’t just hopping on her bandwagon.

  “Emma was put into our care by the police, and we plan to pursue to have her placed permanently with us. Why is it necessary for her to go somewhere else if she has a safe place to stay?”

  The woman huffed. “There are protocols and rules in place for a reason Mrs.—” She paused.

  “Darla, you can call me Darla.”

  “Mrs. Darla. We can’t just give you a child when we don’t know anything about you. There are classes you have to take and background checks and—”

  “If you took her from us tonight, where would you be taking her?” Darla interrupted.

  The woman paused and sifted through the folder again and then tapped something on one of the pieces of paper. “Ah-ha, here it is. It says that her grandfather will be taking custody of her until her next hearing.”

  “What grandfather?” Darla asked.

  The woman continued to read on and then answered. “The father of one Mildred Jones.”

  Emma’s insides tightened as she remembered the conversation she’d had with her aunt about her father. She didn’t remember Mildred saying whether or not he was still alive, but regardless of that, he wasn’t Emma’s grandfather.

  “Mildred’s father isn’t my grandfather,” Emma spoke up as she stepped around Darla. “My mom and her sister had the same mama but different daddies.”

  The woman nodded as though she was listening, but Emma could tell she wasn’t. “Blood doesn’t really matter at this point. He’s the closest thing to a relative we could find, and the state likes to see kids placed with relatives as often as possible.”

  After several minutes of a silent stare off, the DHS woman rolled her eyes. “Look, I understand that you care about her but I’m doing my job. I was told to come get her and so I am. If I have to call the police to arrest you for interfering in a DHS investigation, then I will, but I’d rather not have to.”

  Emma looked up at Darla and Wayne and she could see it in their eyes. They would fight for her. They would stand there facing off with the DHS lady and make her call the police before they would turn her over to the woman. But then they would be arrested and Serenity would be at the hospital alone. Emma couldn’t let them sacrifice anymore for her.

  She stepped forward and looked the woman in the eyes. “You don’t have to call the police. I’ll go with you.”

  “Emma!” Darla’s voice was desperate.

  She turned and looked up at the woman who had become a mother to her and pasted a smile on her face. “I’ll be alright.”

  “You don’t have to go with her,” Darla pleaded.

  “Yes I do. You guys don’t need any more trouble. Serenity needs you.”

  “She needs you too,” Darla told her. “We need you. Don’t you want to live with us?”

  Emma nodded. “Of course. But we can get it all figured out once Serenity’s better.” The eight-year-old in her wanted to cry and beg the DHS lady to let her stay. But that wasn’t how her mama raised her to act, and she would feel like a fool if she ever did behave that way. So instead she put on a brave face and did what she had to do. She reached up and hugged Darla. She felt Wayne’s arms come around them both, and for a few minutes they just stood there holding each other as though the world would fall apart if they let go. The clearing of a throat had them finally releasing each other.

  “We will get you back,” Darla told her as she squeezed Emma’s shoulders. “You belong with us; don’t you forget it.”

  Emma nodded and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

  Glory stepped up then and knelt down so she was face to face with her. Her eyes were full of understanding as she took Emma’s hands. “You’re strong little one. Don’t let anyone kick you down. You kee
p yourself safe until Darla and Wayne can get you back, okay?”

  Emma nodded and gave her a hug. She hadn’t known Glory long, but she already loved what she did know.

  She turned and looked at Raphael who had been silent throughout the whole exchange. She realized, when the DHS lady turned to look at what Emma was staring at and looked confused, that he had taken on his invisible form. Only she could see him.

  “Hope there’s room in her car,” he told her in his deep voice.

  Emma smiled. She knew she probably looked crazy to everyone else, well, except Darla. She was pretty sure Darla knew that Raphael was the real deal.

  “What?” he asked. “Surely you did not think that you could get rid of me that easily?”

  Emma shook her head at the angel and then turned back to the dumpy lady. “I don’t have my clothes with me.”

  “Don’t worry about that, we will get your things. You don’t need to go back to your aunt’s house.” She gave Darla a curt nod. “Thank you for taking care of Emma during this difficult time.”

  Emma nearly laughed as Darla gave the woman a look that could only be interrupted as one thing—Go jump in a lake, lady.

  “No need to thank us for taking care of one of our own,” Wayne answered before Darla could say something that might get her in trouble.

  “Come along then, Emma, we have a long drive and you’ve already had a long night.” The woman turned and began walking away, her shoes once again clacking on the hard floor.

  Emma looked back at the people who had become her family. “Give Serenity a hug for me, okay? And you’ll let me know when she wakes up, right?” she asked Darla.

  Darla nodded as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Of course.”

  Emma didn’t look at her long because she would start crying too. “Raphael is coming with me, Darla,” Emma told her, hoping that would help ease some of the strain she could see lining her face. “I’ll be fine. I promise.” She gave them one last wave before turning to go, with Raphael by her side.