Life Support
Page 43
When the door opened, they saw a new face. She was an attractive, middle-aged woman with sleek black hair, dark eyes, and brown skin that suggested ancestry linked to America’s original inhabitants. Ted and Alexia introduced themselves, and he handed her the paper from Dr. Berman.
The woman glanced at it and said, “Come inside. I’m Sarah Locklear, the nurse on duty.”
“Where is Nurse Hathcock?” Alexia asked.
“Today is one of her days off. We work for the same agency, and I’ll be filling in from time to time.”
Alexia and Ted went inside. Baxter was lying on his back.
“What is music therapy?” the nurse asked as she handed the slip back to Ted.
Ted set his keyboard on a chair. “I’m going to play for thirty minutes. The doctor hopes the music may stimulate a response in Baxter and help bring him out of the coma. You don’t have to stay in the room.”
“We won’t be touching any of the equipment,” Alexia added.
The nurse didn’t back away. “What if I want to stay?”
Ted had been taking the cover off the keyboard. He stopped and struggled for a gracious reason to exclude her.
“Uh, I won’t be playing anything you might recognize. It’s impromptu.”
The nurse didn’t budge. “That’s even more interesting. Have you done this before?”
“Two days ago.”
“I mean with other people who are sick.”
Ted shook his head. “No, Baxter is the first person. I’m a minister at a local church, and I hope the music will be a way for God to touch him. I know it’s different, but—”
An aide looked into the room from the kitchen. “Do you need me?” the woman asked.
“Go ahead and take your break,” the nurse responded. “I’ll be in here with these folks and Mr. Richardson.”
“You’re sure you want to stay?” Ted asked as he looked into the nurse’s dark eyes.
“Yes, if it won’t distract you. During the years I’ve taken care of sick people, I’ve seen many things happen that could only be explained as the hand of God.”
Ted saw the sincerity in Sarah Locklear’s eyes and instantly knew she was an ally, not an adversary.
“Okay,” he said. “You’re welcome to join us.”
He looked for his Bible and then remembered he’d left it at home when he picked up the keyboard.
“I forgot my Bible,” he said.
“I’ll get mine,” the nurse responded. “It’s in the kitchen.”
After the nurse left, Alexia said in a quiet voice, “This is good.”
Ted pointed upward and nodded. The nurse returned with a well-worn, brown, leather Bible, which she handed to Ted, who set it on a chair in front of him.
“Thanks,” he said. “Let’s pray, and I’ll get started.”
Ted bowed his head and offered a brief prayer. When he said, “Amen,” he opened his eyes, but the nurse had an addendum.
“Lord Jesus,” she said earnestly, “send your holy angels into this room and help us during this time of prayer for Mr. Richardson. May he be like the man at the pool of Bethesda who heard your command to rise up and walk. May he look into your eyes and find healing for his body, soul, and spirit.”
Ted glanced over at Alexia, who didn’t try to hide her surprise. The nurse continued for a few more moments before stopping. Ted turned on the keyboard. He knew where he wanted to start. He turned the pages of the Bible until he found Luke 1:37—For nothing is impossible with God. The nurse had underlined the verse in thick pencil. He began to play.
Almost immediately, Ted could tell a difference from the previous session. There was a deeper awareness that the power of God was in the tiny house. He moved up and down the keys, producing notes that proclaimed the majesty and power of God. He glanced at Nurse Locklear. Her eyes were closed, and she was swaying slightly in her chair. Alexia, her eyes also closed, was sitting quietly with her hands folded in her lap.
When release from the first scripture came, Ted turned to John 5— the healing of the man at the pool of Bethesda. The transition was smooth, and Ted began to watch Baxter’s face as the notes bridged the gap between heaven and earth. Nothing changed. He continued to play. A faint sound from another place came faintly to Ted’s hearing. He had often wondered what it would be like to hear the voices of angels singing. of his hearing. The sound grew slightly louder, but it was not possible to distinguish direction or words. It increased again.
It was Sarah Locklear. She was singing.
The nurse was an alto with a rich, deep timbre. Her voice followed Ted’s fingers across the keyboard in vocal expression that communicated pure, unhindered emotion. The notes weren’t as complicated as the interrelationships Ted often created, but they tracked closely with the prompting he sensed from the Holy Spirit. For a second, Ted hesitated and wondered if he should try to follow her, but just as quickly he knew that there was only one conductor in the room. His name was Jesus. He was the head. They were the body.
Ted wasn’t surprised when words began to come. The simple phrases complemented his instrumental petition and expanded its scope. Her voice was soft, yet distinct. In a different context, Ted suspected it could explode with power. Time passed. The thirty minutes prescribed by the doctor was irrelevant. Ted wasn’t sure if it was fifteen minutes or fifty, but he knew when to stop. Sarah’s voice quietly receded to the wellspring within her. In the silence of anticipation all three of them looked at Baxter.
He was unchanged.
Ted stood up and came close to the bed. Alexia joined him. The sheet that covered Baxter’s torso barely rose and fell. He was alive but remained wandering in the barren, waterless land between this life and the next. Nothing in his appearance gave indication that he’d responded to the anointed music that had filled his room.
“What do you think?” Ted asked the nurse, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed.
Sarah Locklear shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
“Is there anything else we should do?”
“No,” she said. “My heart is clear. The results are in God’s hands.”
Ted nodded. “You have a beautiful voice—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” the nurse interrupted with a smile. “It was a holy time.”
“It was awesome,” Alexia added in a small voice.
“When are you going to be working?” Ted asked the nurse. “I’d like to come back when you are here.”
“It varies. I don’t have a regular schedule. I’ll be back at least once every couple of weeks.”
Ted took out his wallet and gave her one of his cards. “Please call me,” he said.
“Okay. And I’ll be praying about what you’re doing.”
“We’re doing,” Ted corrected.
The manifest presence of the Lord lingered with Ted as he drove down the driveway. It would take time to process what had happened with Sarah Locklear. Lost in her own thoughts, Alexia didn’t intrude.
The nurse returned to the kitchen and drank a cup of cold water. She had worshiped God in many ways ever since she was a little girl, but today a door had opened to an enormous room she hadn’t known existed.
Left alone, Baxter Richardson opened his eyes.
READING GROUP GUIDE
1. Which character in the story is most like you? Why?
2. Which character do you most dislike? What do you think is least attractive about that character?
3. What are the spiritual themes in the book? Discuss how these themes play out in the lives of the main characters.
4. What are Rena’s motivations for attacking Baxter? Do you feel any sympathy for her or see her merely as an evil woman?
5. Once Rena learns that Baxter is alive, how does her strategy change?
6. Why does Alexia choose representing Rena over her partnership goals at Leggitt & Freeman? Do you think she made a wise decision?
7. Why is Ted drawn to Alexia?
8. How
would you describe Ted’s understanding of worship?
9. Describe why Ted believes music therapy is beneficial. Do you personally know anyone who has been helped by it?
10. Which is your favorite stained glass window? Why?
11. What irony exists in the death of the deputy sheriff?
12. What role does Gwen play in Alexia’s life?
13. What role does Mrs. Hobart play in Ted’s life?
14. What are the keys to opening Alexia’s heart to the Lord?
15. What do you think about the evidence presented to Judge Holcomb?
16. What does Sarah’s character add to the story?
17. Now that Baxter has opened his eyes, what do you think will happen?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This novel was not written in isolation. I deeply appreciate my wife, Kathy, who was steadfast in encouragement and accurate in editing. Much thanks to Ami McConnell and Traci DePree for their great substantive suggestions and to Wendy Wood for her careful corrections.
And thanks to the many people who have been my mentors in music. Of that number, pianist John G. Elliott (johnelliott-music.com) gave invaluable assistance in the preparation of this book.