By early afternoon, the pain still persisted. Lying down helped a little but not enough to feel better, even after more pain medicine. Thinking she must have caught a flu bug, Sara phoned William's office, hoping he could come home early and pick up the children from school. But she was only able to reach his secretary who explained he was in meetings and couldn't be disturbed. Sara hung up, disappointed, even though she really hadn't expected him to be able to help. She'd always done everything for the kids and the house herself, never asking him for help, even when she was sick or worn out. But today, she felt stranded, alone, and it upset her. Even though she knew he loved his family and loved her, not being able to depend upon him for emergencies saddened her.
Angry with herself for even thinking this way, she pushed her feelings aside, blaming the way she felt for the cause of her anger, not William. Determined not to let this get the best of her, she forced herself to get up and drive to pick up the kids.
But the pain continued to increase and by the time both children were in the van, she was flushed, perspiration damp on her brow.
"Are you okay, Mom?" Sammy asked from where he sat in the middle seat. Even through her pain, Sara smiled. Sammy was the sensitive one. It was so like him to be the one to notice how quiet she was and notice the strain on her face.
"I'll be okay, honey," she managed as she maneuvered through the traffic at the high school. Sammy didn't look convinced, but he stayed quiet.
Sandy, however, had no concern for anyone but herself. She started in right away about wanting her nose pierced, bringing a sharp reaction from her mother.
"Not today, Sandy. I mean it," Sara warned her in no uncertain terms.
Sandy sat back, stunned that her mother would talk to her so sharply. But instead of noticing her mother looked ill, she only sulked in her seat all the way home.
Once home, Sandy flew off to her friend's house down the road with no concern for her mother, but Sammy hung back, asking if there was anything he could help her with.
Sara was touched by his concern but assured him she'd be better if she just rested awhile. He went off to his bedroom to do homework, and Sara collapsed on the sofa, wondering how she'd make dinner with the way she felt.
The pain grew inside her until Sara felt like her whole stomach was on fire. It burned, and her fever increased. She felt like she had to vomit, but she didn't have the strength to leave the sofa, so she just lay there, hoping it would stop. There was so much pressure building inside her, she felt like she couldn't stand it another moment. Then, suddenly it was as if an explosion went off inside her and slowly the pain lessened. Her fevered body cooled, and the nauseous feeling went away. She couldn't believe the pain could cease so quickly and thought that maybe the pain killers had finally worked. But whatever it was, she was thankful it was gone.
She rose, slowly at first, still not convinced the pain was entirely gone, but she felt fine, except for feeling exhausted from her long afternoon. She prepared dinner and Sandy came home from Brittany's house, and William came home from work. They all ate dinner like they did every evening. No one noticed how pale Sara was, or the dark circles under her eyes. They just ate and traded stories as usual.
During dinner, Sara felt the pressure in her side begin to grow again, but she said nothing. As she loaded the dishwasher, William came into the kitchen to tell her that he and Sammy were going to the driving range to hit a few balls. He didn't notice how flushed she looked as they rushed out the kitchen door. Only Sammy looked her over twice before reluctantly following his dad.
Sandy tried one more time to get her mom to agree to allow her to get her nose pierced, but Sara raised her hand in warning and shook her head.
"Not tonight," Sara told her. Angry, Sandy stormed up to her room, the words "I hate you" rushing down the stairs at Sara before Sandy slammed her door. But by now, Sara didn't care. She put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and practically crawled to the living room sofa, and dropped onto it. The pain had become unbearable again, even worse than it had been before, and she felt completely drained. She was pale with bright spots of red on her cheeks, and her breathing had become increasingly labored.
This was how Sammy found her when they came home, curled up on the couch, her blue-green eyes glassy in her stark white face. William had gone directly into his den to work, but Sammy wanted to see if his mom was feeling better. Seeing her this way frightened him, and he ran directly to his father's den.
"Mom's really sick. You have to come," he said, his eyes wide with fear.
William looked up from his drawing board, frowning in confusion. Sara was fine at dinnertime, surely Sammy was exaggerating. "I'm sure your mother's fine," he said calmly. "She's probably just tired."
But Sammy wouldn't listen to his dad's excuses. "She's been sick all day, and she's really sick now," he insisted. "Come on!"
William had no choice but to follow his son into the living room, and when he got there, the site of Sara's pale, limp form unnerved him.
"Sara?" he asked gently, crouching down beside the sofa. She turned to him but said nothing. He placed a hand on her forehead and pressed lightly. She was burning up. Panic swelled inside him.
"I hurt," Sara said weakly, but the pain was so overwhelming, even talking was excruciating.
William had never seen his wife so sick before. For one long minute he wavered, debating what to do. Sara took care of them, not the other way around. When Sandy had her tonsils out at age six, it was Sara who'd sat beside her hospital bed all night. When Sammy fell off the swing set when he was three and lay unconscious, it was Sara who had calmly rushed him to the emergency room. She handled all the colds, flus, and illnesses. She was the one who doled out the medications, kept the children's shots current, and handled all doctor, dentist, and orthodontist appointments. He felt completely lost.
Sara closed her eyes and winced as the pain continued to envelope her. Her breathing was erratic now with short, gasping intakes of air. Seeing the pain etched on her face finally made William fly into action.
"Get your sister," he told Sammy as calmly as possible. "We're taking your mom to the hospital."
William drove to the hospital as fast as he dared, with both children silent in the backseat, and Sara reclined moaning softly in the front seat. He'd wrapped her in a blanket, even though her body had been radiating a fiery heat of its own.
Once there, the emergency room nurse took one look at Sara in William's arms and quickly showed them to a room where he could lay her down. Doctors came immediately to examine her, while William filled out insurance forms in the waiting room, and Sammy and Sandy waited nervously beside him. The three had just re-entered the emergency ward, when they saw Sara being wheeled out of her room on a gurney toward the elevators.
"We believe it's her appendix," the doctor in charge told William. "We must get her into surgery immediately. I've already informed the surgeon on duty."
William and the children stood, stunned for a moment, staring at the stout, gray-haired doctor standing in front of them. He tried to smile and reassure them. "Appendicitis is very common," he said calmly. "The doctors here treat several cases each month. Your wife is in capable hands."
At this, William relaxed a bit, letting his sensible side take over. Of course, appendectomies were as common as taking tonsils out. There was nothing to worry about. He nodded his understanding to the doctor, then calmly stepped over to Sara's gurney.
"Everything will be fine," he told her, placing his hand on hers. "They'll take good care of you."
But Sara was anything but calm. Her eyes were wide with terror. "No, Billy, don't let them take me," she pleaded, grabbing his arm so fiercely he winced. "I can't leave you and the kids. You need me. I don't want to go."
William knew there was nothing to panic about. She was safe in the hospital with competent doctors to care for her. "Everything will be all right, honey," he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Everything will be fine. Trust me."
They wheeled Sara down the hall and through double doors marked "Hospital Personnel Only". William stood calmly as she disappeared, even though her eyes pleaded with him the entire way. Unnerved by her fear, but careful to hide his feelings, he turned to the children standing wide-eyed and frightened behind him.
"She'll be fine," he reassured them as he placed an arm around each and led them back to the waiting room. "All we can do now is wait."
Chapter Three
When Sara opened her eyes, the first thing she saw were the colors, ribbons of watercolors, blue, green, pink, yellow, every color of the rainbow floating above her. The golden light beyond intensified their shades from pastel to a brilliant bright, an explosion of color so perfect and beautiful, she couldn't take her eyes from them. The golden light was so radiant, as if looking into a perfect sun. She should have needed to shade her eyes against it, but she didn't need to. She could look upon it without even blinking.
The wavering colors called to her, dancing high above her, glistening in the perfect light. She wanted to join the colors, become a part of them, fuse with them. The warm glow that illuminated the colors smiled at her. She found herself happily rising up to them, ready to embrace their beauty and become as one with the colors, as if becoming a part of one of her own canvases. But these colors, and the light beyond, were unlike any canvas she'd ever painted. They were absolutely perfect. They were ethereal.
As Sara rose toward the beckoning beauty of the ribbons of colors, she turned only briefly to look upon the scene playing out below her. Men and women were scurrying about, concentrating all their energy upon a pale figure lying motionless on a table. Panic filled the room as one man called out orders, and another pressed firmly on the chest of the figure, pumping rhythmically, consecutively, calling out numbers as he did. The intense scene below her was in complete contrast to the calm, loving feeling above her, so Sara distanced herself from the one and rose toward the other.
She floated, higher and higher, until the colors surrounded her and made her one of their own. Twirling, drifting, spinning, Sara reveled in the soft, powdery feel of them, becoming one with the colors. She raised her arms and brushed through the colors as if swimming, watching with delight as the colors separated, mixed, gelled, then fell back into place. It was like being a part of a beautiful painting, Sara felt free, a release of all that had ever held her down, as the golden light continued to smile down upon her and warm her from within.
Sara continued to rise, every fear, emotion, and pain falling away from her like unwanted weight. She felt lighter and lighter, airy, like the ribbons of color. Air, sun and mists of color reflected upon her, through her, within her.
The radiant light beyond drew closer. The makings of a face seemed to appear in its glow. "Welcome home, Sara," the lighted face said in a tone so warm and loving, unlike anything she'd ever heard before. It seemed like she felt the words rather than heard them.
Sara smiled, feeling light and breezy, the colors continuing to follow her, surrounding her as she rose even higher. No matter how she moved, the ribbons of color stayed with her. They were her friends, her family, her one true love.
Suddenly, panic swelled inside Sara. She stopped floating up and turned her face down toward where she'd come. Her love, her family, they were not here in the midst of the colors or in the smile of the golden face. They were back there, from where she had floated up.
"There's nothing down there for you now, Sara," the golden rays told her kindly. "Up is where you want to go now. This is where you belong."
But Sara could only look down. Through the mist of colors, she could make out the form of a face, no, three faces, three familiar faces. "My family, they need me," Sara said.
But the lighted face above only smiled at her. "We're your family now, Sara. We need you now. Come to us."
Sara turned toward the golden face, once again feeling the warmth of its smile. She wanted to continue to follow it, bask in its loving warmth forever. Yet, something held her back. Again, she glanced below, and caught the pained expression on a face that she loved. Her heart ached for the pain she saw in his face. A gasping sound came from behind that face, and she saw two more faces with glistening tears on their cheeks. A sudden urge made her want to hug them, hold them tight, and wipe away their tears. She had to go back. She had to erase the pain from those faces she loved so much. The golden face would have to wait. The others needed her more.
"I can't go with you," Sara told the face above her. "I have to go back. I'm needed down there, not here."
"I'm sorry, Sara, but it's too late. You can't go back now," the image of golden light told her.
Sara refused to listen. Her need to return became urgent. She tried to drift down from the colors and away from the face, but their pull was too strong. Frustration overwhelmed her as her need to go back grew. The ribbons of color began to fade, their beautiful shades turning to a dull gray before disappearing into the mist. The once brilliant light of the face above dimmed, as if it, too, would fade away. The warmth that had drawn Sara up into the colors began to slip away. Coolness surrounded her as the mist grew thicker, heavier, like rain. This frightened Sara as she looked up into the translucent face. Was she the cause of this transformation or was the face of light unhappy? The face looked at her sadly, its features wavering in and out of focus. Sara feared the face would leave her, as the colors had, and she'd be all alone.
"Please," she begged the face as it continued to look sadly at her. "I must go back. I must be with the ones I love. Please help me." Tears formed in her eyes, spilling one by one onto her cheeks before dropping off to become as one with the mist.
The face didn't brighten but didn't look angry either as it continued to study Sara with its wavering features. The face appeared to be sad.
"There is a way..." the fading golden light said softly, sounding unsure of whether to continue.
Sara lifted her eyes in anticipation and hope. She saw the mist grow lighter. "Please, will you help me?" she begged. She didn't care what it took to send her back or what she had to do. She just knew she had to go.
The face looked thoughtful. "Sometimes, others come before it is their time and, because they are unhappy down there, they do not wish to return. If you can encourage a soul to go back, you can go with her for a time, but you will have to return when your work is finished. It must be a soul whose destiny is to follow your path. You cannot change fate, only encourage it."
Sara's eyes grew bright with hope, her tears forgotten. As her hope brightened, so did the face's light grow brighter.
"But remember, Sara, there are no guarantees. A part of you will be immersed in another person, be connected to their life, and you may not remember who you were before or anyone you knew from your own past. I cannot promise you will ever see your family again."
The face studied Sara carefully, but she only smiled, a smile that brought back the deep, radiating warmth once more from the luminous face. Her smile was so sincere, so real, that it brought back the ribbons of color, making the gray disappear.
"Oh, but I'm not worried," Sara said, knowing, feeling all would be right again. "My love and I are soul mates. My children and I are bonded forever. I will find them again. I'll make sure they are taken care of. Then, and only then, will I be able to join you."
The golden face, once again a brilliant light from Sara's happiness, nodded in understanding. Without another word between them, Sara began her descent, slowly, happily, through the ribbons of watercolors. Back down to where she belonged. Back down to those she loved. And peace once more filled her entire being.
William saw the gray-haired doctor come through the doors and was immediately on his feet. The children stood, too, anxious for news. They'd been waiting for two hours, sitting on the plastic chairs and scratchy sofa, watching the television high above without hearing a word. William had repeatedly assured the children not to worry. The operation was routine, Sara would breeze through it perfectly.
But like the children, he was anxious to hear from the doctor that all had gone well, that Sara was doing fine and would be home any day.
The doctor's face looked drawn. His eyes had dark circles under them. As he approached them, no smile of reassurance appeared on his face as it had only two hours before.
"Mr. Grafton," he said quietly as he stopped in front of William, the children standing directly behind their father. "I..." he hesitated, looking into their eager faces. Taking a deep breath, he began again. "I'm sorry. The surgeons did everything possible, but your wife didn't pull through."
William only stared, stunned by the doctor's words. His face wrinkled in a confused frown. "I don't understand..."
"I'm so sorry. Appendectomies are usually routine, but your wife's appendix ruptured several hours before she was brought in. Infection had spread into her bloodstream, and her heart stopped. The doctors tried to revive her but to no avail. She was so weak. Her body just couldn't fight it." The doctor reached out and placed a hand on William's arm. "They tried everything, I assure you. Again, I'm so sorry."
William continued to stare blankly ahead of him, his mind trying to comprehend what the doctor had said. Behind him, Sandy gasped and fell into a chair, crying softly. Sammy, too, had tears in his eyes as he sat beside his sister and placed his arms around her. But William couldn't move. All he could do was stare straight ahead, past the doctor, to the double doors where just beyond he had lost his forever.
Chapter Four
Five Years Later
William Grafton stood staring out the window of his fourth floor office in Beaverton. The photographer was late. He checked his watch again. Okay, so she was late by only two minutes, but she was late just the same. He had better things to do than wait. It only made him brood more about having to waste the time to retake the photos that were done two months before. It wasn't his fault some idiot at the magazine had lost the photos, yet he seemed to be the one paying for it.
Sara's Promise Page 2
