by CS Yelle
“I will, Britt,” he said, his glow shining strong and bright.
Jessica and the woman with pancreatic cancer glowed brightly as well and I felt confident they were now cancer free.
As we walked past the last room sounds of sorrow wafted into the hall. A nurse, her eyes red and teary, brushed past as the door swung open. The man who slept in the chair leaned over the bed, his head bowed as his hair hung across his face. He turned to look at me as I stood in the doorway, awash with anguish.
I didn’t save her. I tried, but I couldn’t save her.
It was impossible not to see accusation in his eyes as he stared at me. He turned away and tears blurred my vision as my mom put her arm across my shoulders, ushering me past the door and leaving the man to grieve in private.
“You look tired Britt,” Mom said on the way home.
“Like I said, a lot of memories.”
“Not everyone gets a miracle like we did,” she sighed.
“No, not everyone,” I agreed, but knew as long as I could, I would try.
Chapter 5 Lying in bed staring at the dark ceiling as the events of the day played out in my mind, I couldn’t help but feel joy over healing those patients today. I possessed the ability to heal people. Even as the thought of killing people in my dreams pressed to outweigh the good I’ve now discovered possible, I smiled at the pleasure I felt at counteracting such evil with such good. But I needed to be smart about this. I needed to be careful not to push myself too far. I stared at the scar on my arm. Really careful.
The next morning I hurried down the stairs running on pure adrenaline after not sleeping a minute last night, but having a solid grasp at what I needed to do. Sliding to stop in my stocking feet and oversized t-shirt as mom sat at the island drinking coffee and reading the morning paper, she looked up at me curiously and smiled.
“What’s gotten into you today?” “I know what I want to do for the rest of the summer,” I announced.
“Hang out with your friends and shop?”
“No, volunteer at the hospital.” I stretched out my arms gesturing grandly.
“After yesterday I thought the hospital was the last place you wanted to spend time.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought…”
“You’ve spent so much of your life there already,” Mom cut me off. “Maybe you should think about it some more.”
I nodded at her reasoning. It would make sense to someone who didn’t know what I could do. I lowered my eyes, glancing at the front page of the paper as it lay on the island and read the headline.
Councilman Found Dead in Alley Apparent Heart Attack The picture below the headline stopped my heart as the eyes of the man from the alley in my dream the night before gazed back at me. My heart started up again and raced, threatening to leap from my chest.
A killer. I was a killer. Not just in my dreams, but for real.
“Britt, what is it dear?” Mom reached over and touched my arm.
I recoiled from as if her touch burnt my flesh, my eyes unable to pull away from the accusing eyes of my victim.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I looked up to see worry fill her eyes and line her forehead.
“No, I don’t want to think about it,” I said my voice soft but determined. “I want to volunteer at the hospital today.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I’ll make some calls.”
She stood and walked out as I turned back to the paper, scanning the article and sighing with relief at no mention of murder or an assailant. At least no one knew about me. Was that good? Maybe I should turn myself in? Maybe that was the only way to stop me from killing.
“Yeah, right,” I said with a laugh. They wouldn’t believe me anyway. How could a girl give a guy a heart attack?
Mom came back into the kitchen and sat down, reaching over to take her cup and draw a long drink of coffee.
“You can check in at the main desk later today and they’ll get you into their volunteer rotation,” she said a bit hesitantly. “I suppose you won’t ask to be in the pediatric department?” She looked at me without much hope of the answer she would like.
“Not a chance,” I said with a shrug and walked out to get ready for my new life of helping people instead of killing them.
Did God see things as tradeoffs? If I saved more than I killed, maybe twice as many, would he see that as enough to save my soul? I sure hoped so, because as far I knew, I couldn’t control the killing in my dreams.
By late morning I stood at the front desk as an elderly lady with short grey hair and a big smile helped me into the blue smock that identified me as a volunteer. If the smock wasn’t obvious enough, the big bold black letters across the back announcing me as a volunteer cleared up any doubt.
“There you are,” she said with pride. “Report to the nurses’ station in the long-term care unit. They’ll be tickled to have a young vibrant volunteer. Most kids don’t like to be around people who have no hope of getting better.” She pressed her lips together in resignation.
“I will,” I said, hurrying away to the wing I knew too well. I stopped in front of the desk where a large, darkskinned woman sat studying something on her computer screen. Waiting patiently for what seemed forever I finally cleared my throat.
“Humph.” The nurse jumped with surprise and stared at me curiously.
“May I help you?”
“Actually, that’s what I’m here to do for you.” I smiled pointing to my nametag with volunteer embossed under my horrible picture taken at the front desk only moments earlier.
“Really…” the nurse began and then stopped as her eyes grew wide looking me up and down. “Britt? Britt Anderson? Honey, they told me what happened with you, but they didn’t do you justice. You look wonderful.”
“I missed you the other day Nurse Hardy.” I could feel my face warm in embarrassment.
“You are truly a saint, wanting to come back and help those who are suffering like you were. You do know that miracles like yours are rare though.”
“Yes, but I’m hoping some of my luck rubs off on a few of the patients.” I fidgeted with the concealed knowledge of my plan.
“Funny you should say that. Yesterday, three patients seem to have had astounding turnarounds. Your roommate is one of them. She will be checking out later today.”
“Jessica is getting out today?” I smiled.
“She sure is, but the doctor wanted a few more tests before she left. You should pop in and say hi. There is a nurse’s assistant in with her right now, but I’m sure it will be okay.”
The phone beeped on the counter and Nurse Hardy answered, motioning for me to go. I hurried down the hallway and hesitated at the door to gather my thoughts. But they felt scrambled and chaotic as I stood leaning against the door frame. My head spun and my breath came in short rasps.
I eased the door open to find a chair and sit down. As I stepped into the room, the spinning in my head intensified and my vision lost focus, causing me to stagger into the stand sitting beside the door, knocking the food tray crashing to the ground.
Squinting in pain, I focused on the bed with Jessica lying prone on it; a man loomed over her. Something didn’t seem right. A glow filled the space between Jessica and the man’s hand as it hovered a foot over her body. Jessica’s face came into focus as her terrified eyes stared back at me, beseeching me for help. Her mouth spread wide in a silent scream.
I tried righting myself only to tumble forward, reaching for her attacker. “Stop,” I squeezed out before falling to the floor semiconscious. I knew what the nurse’s assistant was doing to Jessica and couldn’t do anything about it. It was just like in my nightmares, but right here in real life. Tears welled up and dripped from my eyes as the white tennis shoes turned towards me. I didn’t have any strength to lift my head or raise my eyes.
A hand rested on the floor in front of my face as he leaned over me. I felt the weight of his body press against mine and he
took a deep breath that rustled my hair.
“Oh, you are delicious, aren’t you? Maybe some other time.” His voice sounded amused; playful.
My head throbbed as he pressed his lips against my cheek and then everything went black.
I woke up on a gurney in the hallway just outside Jessica’s room. People hurried in and out of the room, not noticing me as I sat up and watched the commotion. I looked around, trying to pair a face with the man who killed Jessica. Realizing I never saw his face, I turned my attention to their shoes. That approach proved useless as they all wore the same white tennis shoes.
I didn’t bother getting up to check on Jessica, knowing he never left anyone to tell a tale. Yet, what about me? It really sucked to be the exception in this case.
Nurse Hardy stopped in front of me as I stared off in contemplation. “Are you alright honey?” she asked, taking a hold of my hand.
“I guess,” I shrugged.
“You must have passed out when you walked in on the nurse’s assistant trying to revive Jessica. He sounded the code blue, but there was nothing we could do. Poor girl’s body lost the battle with her cancer.”
“But I thought her cancer was gone?” I said.
“So did we, but we must have missed some.” She shook her head. “Her heart just gave out, poor thing,” she said with a sigh and went back into the room.
I sat for a while longer and glanced up at the clock. With a few more hours on my shift I decided to go down and take a break in the cafeteria to grab a pop. I slid from the gurney and staggered for a moment, grasping the gurney for support. Once confident my legs would support me, I shuffled down the hallway, my legs regaining their strength as I went. Soon I was walking normally as I turned the corner to the cafeteria.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Trish, then changed my mind and ended the call before it went through. Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I stepped up to the vending machine confident Trish wouldn’t understand. I sat down at a table and glanced at the scattered occupants and then stared at the silver Diet Coke can, running a finger over the condensation forming along the metal surface.
“Interesting can?” a voice spoke close beside me, jarring me from my thoughts.
I looked up at a boy my age; bright blue eyes and shining white teething smiling down at me. He ran a hand through his golden hair, brushing it out of his face and his eyes filled with concern as they met mine. The image of my angel from the river flashed in my mind.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said and then gestured with his hand for permission to sit down.
I nodded and stared at him as he eased into the chair next to me. Was this my angel who saved me in the Boundary Waters? A strong hint at his connection tugged deep inside.
“I’m Allister Parks.” He extended his hand.
Reaching out I clasped it, holding on tight and making sure he wasn’t a dream. That he wasn’t going to disappear in a flash like that night at Sammy’s Pizzeria. “Britt Anderson.”
“Are you all right?” he asked when I finally released his hand.
“Yeah, just sorting some things out,” I said.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” he said running a nervous hand through his hair, “what are you doing here?”
“I’m a volunteer.” I gestured to my fashion faux pas smock.
“Oh yes, how could I have missed that?” he laughed.
“I want you to know I wouldn’t wear this by choice.” I grinned.
“I should hope not,” he agreed and we both laughed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, then wished I hadn’t as he stopped laughing and his eyes turned hard. “I’m sorry. We don’t know each other. It’s none of my business.”
He raised his hand, halting my apology and shook his head. “I asked you the same thing. I’m looking for someone but just missed them.”
“So... no one admitted to the hospital… an employee?”
“I’m not sure. I found out he was here and arrived a little too late. That seems to be happening to me a lot lately.” He shrugged and then his features softened again as he stared at me. “Have you been volunteering long?”
“Started today.”
His eyebrows went up in curiosity. “Really, you seem so relaxed. Most people are tense around sick people.”
“That’s because I was one of them until a few weeks ago,” I said reflexively and wanted to take it back.
“Interesting…do tell,” he said leaning on the table and sliding closer.
“Uh, I …” pulling my phone from my pocket, I stalled for a moment. “I have to get back to work.” I stood and he stood up with me.
“Maybe you could tell me some other time?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, hesitating for an awkward moment, and then spun on my heels and walked away.
“Bye.” He waved when I turned to look back at him over my shoulder.
“Bye,” I said and scurried around the corner, out of sight, before giggling to myself.
So that was Allister Parks. My angel. Until he admitted his involvement with creating the new me, I needed to play it cool. Right now I had some work to do: keep a look out for that nurse’s assistant who killed Jessica, and heal some people. A lot of people. The scale weighing my soul’s content now tipped to the bad side and I needed to shift it to the good side, fast.
Stopping to talk to Nurse Hardy, I asked her who I could sit with for a while.
“Tammy in room 109 has leukemia and is really struggling,” she said. “She has five younger brothers and sisters and her folks can’t be here during the day since they both work. She gets real lonely.”
“I’ll go see what I can do,” I said with a smile and marched down to room 109. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open to see the twelve-year-old propped up in bed watching some lame soap opera.
She turned to me as the door swung in and a smile touched her face as if she knew why I was there. The dull glow around her proclaimed to me a limited time left here on earth. I stepped inside and let the door ease shut behind me.
“Hey Tammy, I’m here to help,” I said and her smile widened.
Chapter 6 The next few weeks I spent hanging with the girls in the evenings and volunteering at the hospital during the day. I wanted to volunteer in the evening, but was relegated to the daytime hours. A busier time for staff, it was a bit tricky healing people without being interrupted though soon I became accustomed to the routines and adept at avoiding the near misses I suffered in the beginning.
My plan was to heal one person a day to avoid overextending myself and causing the scars from my old injuries to come back. With few new cases coming in, I turned my attention to the emergency room and anywhere patients had precariously dull glows about them. So, splitting my volunteering time between the ER and the long-term care unit, the healing dropped down to a person every other day.
As I pulled into the parking lot one morning, a television van from a Duluth news station was parked out front. I walked in through the ER doors on my way to my locker as a film crew interviewed one of the doctors.
“What’s the big change that caused the fatalities in this hospital to drop off so significantly in the last few weeks?” the reporter asked.
“We feel that things run in cycles, and we must be in the good part of that cycle right now,” the doctor reasoned.
This didn’t satisfy the reporter and he put a hand to his square chin, furrowing his brow over his dark brown eyes.
“Has anything changed in the past few weeks to explain this?” the reporter pressed.
“No, I don’t believe so,” the doctor said catching my eye as I skirted behind the news crew and gave me a smile. “Unless you count some outstanding volunteers joining us,” he chuckled.
“Who would that be?” the reporter said taking hold of the idea and running with it.
“No, I’m just joking. I stand by the idea that it is just a good place to be right now.”
; I hurried past the scene before someone saw that I was a volunteer and started asking me questions. After gathering my volunteer vest and not wanting go back to the ER while the news crew still mulled around, I headed up to the long-term care unit to find it empty. No patients today had me going to the cafeteria to grab an early Diet Coke before trying to get back into the ER.
I sat at a table looking out the large windows at the manicured lawn as it stretched out before the wooded lot surrounding the hospital. I thought back to the first day my nightmare killer took Jessica and how he hadn’t come to my dreams since. What was the connection between him and me?
The chair beside me slid out and Allister sat down beside me.
“Hi,” I said, surprised.
“You’ve been a busy girl,” Allister said, his tone low and disapproving.
“What do you mean?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t taking about the murders.
“You need to be more discriminating of who you heal, and you definitely need to stay away from places like hospitals.”
“What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance.
“Britt, I know you’re healing patients That will bring unwanted attention and could cost people their lives.” He reached over and took hold of my arm, forcing me to look him in the eye.
“I, I…I didn’t know.”
“I know. I take full responsibility, but you need to stop coming here and doing this…at least for a while until the attention settles down.”
“If you’d tell me what’s going on I could avoid doing something like this again and…” I trailed off as he shook his head.
“All I can tell you is I can’t tell you anything, not now,” Allister said flatly. He stood and stormed off.
I watched him weave through the tables and hurry out the door. I needed some answers, but the person who held those answers wasn’t talking. I stood, took off my volunteer vest, and slunk to the lobby where I dropped it off at the front counter on my way out; thankful the elderly woman wasn’t there to guilt me into staying.
The rest of that last week before school started, I spent hanging with the girls and trying to ignore the glows I saw around people. I got good at staring past them except when I saw a dull glow surrounding someone. Jotting down their names, if I knew them, or descriptions in a notebook I kept under my mattress, hoping to see them again when Allister gave me the okay. Eventually, I could turn the appearance of the glow off like a switch in my head.
