by BoJenn
Both husband and wife replied in unison, “No, we’re not. Isn’t it great?”
Cat answered, “Why, yes; yes, that is great.” There was another moment of quietness.
Cat asked, “Who are you?” And, there was another quiet pause.
Then Michael answered, “We’re people who needed accommodations for the night. You gave us that and so much more. For this we are grateful.”
The living room had returned to its original—not other worldy—form. The golden glow dimmed and Cat blinked in confusion. She could have sworn things were different a moment ago. She gave her head a little shake and then spoke, “Never mind. I can’t explain. Perhaps I’ve imagined something supernatural took place among us.”
“Perhaps you imagined this right,” Michael said.
Gabby added, “Perhaps, it was real.”
They sat cuddled together on the love seat, their expressions content. “I could sleep right here,” Gabby said, yawning.
It was time to go to bed. Cat smiled. The evening had been filled to the brim with the magic of love, kindness, laughter and warm fuzzies.
“Before you fall asleep, let me show you the towels and things again. There should also be new toothbrushes in the drawer in the bathroom, so help yourselves,” Cat said, as she rose from the couch and led the way to the guest rooms. She pointed to their children sleeping soundly in the room next to their room, and to their bed, freshly-made with a down comforter and sheets of Egyptian cotton. “I think you will be comfortable,” she added before wishing them goodnight and retreating to get some rest herself.
As she left them upstairs in the unoccupied guest room, her bedroom door closed gently. For a moment, she felt the chill of the boy ghost watching from behind. She looked the other direction. She was enjoying real people and relished their company. The young apparition, at times, got on her last nerve. She just wanted normalcy, and not the companionship of friendly entities, for at least this one night.
Gabby poked her head outside the closed door to once again tell Cat thank you and goodnight. As Gabby turned her head back toward her room, Cat saw her look towards Cat’s bedroom door and give a sweet nod of thanks.
This gesture unnerved Cat a little. She wanted it all to be normal, once again, like when her mama and papa were alive—not a home of ghosts and delusions. To Cat’s own surprise, she slept well with her new friends there. It was good to have the house filled with their company.
The next morning, her guests awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon and biscuits. Cat had already made breakfast! Delightedly, they served Hazel and Tim at the table, but stood in the kitchen to visit with Cat, eating their biscuits and fixing their coffee to go, as they were eager to get on the road. After their quick breakfast, everyone went back up to make up their beds and straighten up where they had rested for the night. So, while Gabby and Michael were busy upstairs getting the children and their things ready to leave, she secretly called the service garage to pay for their auto expenses, ensuring that they would not know of her gift until they went to pick up the car. Cat also slipped a little money into Gabby’s purse in the den. She was pleased that her kindness would only be known by the mechanic, whom she had called to pay by phone with her credit card.
The mechanic, Larry Johnson, husband to Mary and father to young Tammy, had never uttered a bad word about Cat, ever. She was comfortable allowing him to know of her Samaritan gesture. He took the credit card number, and submitted the payment for the fascinating little visiting family. Cat had thought it all out so that, later, when Cat dropped the Jameson family at the garage, Michael would ask for the bill, and Larry would simply smile, saying, “Your bill was taken care of. No need to worry.” He would then hand them the receipt, saying only, “Have a blessed day and come back to Glory Town, sometime.”
Having gotten the children packed into the Jeep, while Michael waited with them for Cat and their mom, and the ride back to town, Gabby ran up for one final check on their bedrooms to make sure they hadn’t left any of their small collection of belongings, and came downstairs again to the kitchen, saying to Cat, “Thank you for what you’ve given us.” She placed her hand on Cat’s forehead and her lips to Cat’s ear, “You are greatly blessed. God has something for you, a gift. Expect it’s arrival. Be open to the unexpected, when it comes.” With that, she and Cat walked to the Jeep to join Michael and the children, and they drove down the mountain. Everyone was very quiet. Cat figured they all were a bit in awe of their new friendship, and the unexpected, though seemingly meant-to-be, circumstances that brought them together.
As they arrived at the mechanic’s shop and Michael was about to get into the old station wagon jalopy to make sure all was running as he hoped, he said about Cat, loud enough so any onlookers— one being one of the gossip queens, Geraldine—could hear, “She’s a saint!” Geraldine sneered as Michael declared that, so he looked straight at Geraldine, who then turned away as if she’d just been scolded by an absolutely destitute tourist.
The small family waved their thankful goodbyes as Cat drove away from the repair shop, after she could see, for herself, that their car was running well. She had planned it so that she could go on home before they discovered their bill was paid. As she drow away, the children yelled “Thank you!” from the back of the station wagon, for the fun time they had spent at the Dubois mansion. Cat returned the wave and hoped she would see them again, someday. Geraldine Cash snarled as she passed by. “Good riddance, Parasite,” she mumbled.
Larry Johnson watched Geraldine’s expression and heard her mumble “Parasite.” He shook his head in disapproval, but in Glory Town his opinions didn’t amount to much since he was an auto mechanic and not a Professor of Divinity.
“You are despicable—you and your gossiping friends,” Larry said to Geraldine, darkly, despite the little bit of flack he would get from his wife, who tried to maintain some dignity in their community. Speaking on Catherine Dubois’ behalf wasn’t the best thing to do in Glory Town. Still, Mary Johnson would never forget that Cat had come to their home when Tammy was so ill.
But, Mary was influenced by her peers in Glory Town, more so than Catherine Dubois ever would or could be. The four gossip queens were her self-appointed peers from whom she tried diligently to gain respect and entrance into their clique.
Healers and Miracle Workers
Cat gave up the Gothic look within the year after the Jameson family visit, as it wasn’t working for her—yet. Her body was still muscular because she worked with the animals on her farm, and in the family’s personal garden. She often had dirt under her nails and wore little or no make-up at all while working.
Cat’s natural beauty shone through even more than ever, though; and her hair was honey-colored again, and longer than last year. She gave up the Gothic appearance, at least for the time being, thinking that it wasn’t necessary and was making the work that her father had done somewhat difficult. Some of his clients had shied away from her stark looks.
So, she chose to go back to her natural appearance, which enhanced her delicate features in the softest way. She wore her hair in a pony-tail again, off her shoulders, mostly so she would be cooler as she worked outside during the warm seasons. During the winters, she maintained and worked on improvements to the barn.
She drove a truck to deliver items to people in the next village, or bring supplies when the roads were passable to Glory Town.
After her father’s death, she continued delivering supplies to town, as he had. She transported them to a storage room in Glory Town for all the residents in case someone needed, for example, canned fruits or vegetables. Mr. Dubois had always donated some of the canned goods to people without, during the harsh impassable winters. This was his humanitarian deed; and it set him apart as one of Glory Town’s most influential and respected residents.
Cat loaded and unloaded the pick-up truck just as her father expected. Her arms were strong, as were her legs. She kept his legacy in honor of his generosity to
others, despite the growing disconnection between her and the town of her peers. By night, she studied by correspondence course with a community college two counties away. Her favorite topic was animal medicine and she set goals to become a veterinarian, but her unwillingness to move out of Glory Town stifled any plans for advanced degrees.
Cat was content to live where she was most comfortable, especially after her mother and father passed on to heaven. But, she studied as far as she could go in biology and physiology, physics, and algebra, and then ventured into learning everything she could about world religions. She became torn on which subject she loved the most, so she embraced both the sciences and theology.
While in town, she waved at Larry Johnson who was working on cars. He always returned a friendly wave, and, today, hollered back at her in a kindly manner. He was her only friend, but he was married and had a precious daughter named Tammy. Tammy was almost 10 then. When Tammy was at the automotive center she would run over to Cat and give her a warm embrace. Tammy, also loved animals, like Cat.
And, today, like always, Cat received little Tammy with open arms and a huge welcome. After all, in 1979, Tammy was hanging onto life by a prayer. Cat’s prayer.
Cat cherished Tammy, and this was obvious to all in the town, but the residents disdained their affections. As Cat hugged Tammy, she flashed back to the night of Larry’s horrifying phone call. Tammy was dying. The Catholic priest had just served the last rites, while she lay in her own bed in a semiconscious state. Cat recollected some of the details of that day, five years ago—many of the reasons why she treasured Tammy.
It was two years before her parents passing, when Cat received the phone call. The call came in winter, late in the evening. Cat was almost 23 years old.
“Hello?”, Cat answered. Larry Johnson’s voice held urgency and pain.
“Cat? This is Larry Johnson…” There was a pause. Cat knew Tammy was ill and she held her breath in anticipation of hearing bad news. Then, she took another breath.
Cat thought of the news of his daughter. Tammy’s illness flooded her thinking. This wasn’t a friendly call. A few days before, while Cat was waiting quietly in a line at the country store, she had heard of Tammy’s failing health through leaking gossip from people in town. It wasn’t odd or unexpected that Larry was calling her.
“Yes, it’s me,” she replied. Cat’s mind quickly reviewed everything she heard. People had been buying supplies for the next winter storm that was soon to move into the valley, and Cat had listened quietly as they talked in shock at the four-year-old’s girls failing health. She remembered thinking, so sorrowfully, about Larry and Mary, and little Tammy.
She knew Larry was calling her to help, despite the busybodies who had too much time on their hands and spoke slanderous tales of his friend, Cat.
Larry knew if there was any help in Glory Town, then the only help was in Cat Dubois. And, much to Mary’s disagreement that the call to Cat must be made, Larry insisted. Before he placed the call, Larry argued with Mary, “Yes, she’s the only person left. She can help. I know it.” Over and over, he picked up the phone to call, but he put it down several times, listening to Mary and thinking about the sickening lies of little-minded people that stood in the way of his daughter’s health.
Mary said nothing when he finally started dialing Cat’s number. She was willing if Larry was the one who asked. In her mind, perhaps Cat did hold the gift of healing, as Larry thought. Mary would surrender to anything, even to witchcraft at this time. And, she truly believed Cat was a witch; but, at this moment, she didn’t care. Anybody who could help Tammy was now invited to try. Not even the gossip queens would stop Mary from letting Larry make the phone call.
Finally, he did make the call.
“Please come, and use your healing powers. Maybe you could pray for Tammy?”, he begged. Larry, unsure of Tammy’s fate, used his last plan for her survival. “Please. All the prayers are not working—at least, so far.” Larry broke down. The tears and the guttural, anguishing wailing kept him from talking. The bodily fluids coming from his nostrils and throat were thick, and preventing him from completing a sentence.
Cat listened, and calmly spoke. “I’m listening Larry. Take your time.”
“There is no time!”, he howled. “Time is leaving her.” Larry broke down more. He said he was on his knees in his home. And Cat heard it when the phone dropped between his knees to the wooden floor. Cat listened to him.
“Tell me what you want me to do? I will do what ever you want,” Cat encouraged him.
“You’re Tammy’s last hope,” he cried.
While Larry was trying to talk, he was remembering Cat’s kindness to animals, and to everyone around her, young and old, when she was in grade school. It had popped into his mind to ask her for help because of those memories of her kindness, and some kind of power she seemed to have that helped those who were sick. After all, she had healed the poor pregnant dog that had been hit by a car. She laid hands on its broken body, and the dog jumped up from an unsurvivable incident. His heart knew that she could help. All those memories were why he wanted to call her, why he reasoned with himself before picking up the phone.
“It was you who healed the bird that had broken its neck. I witnessed the bird’s resurrection,” he said, knowing she could and would help. “I know you can. I saw it fly away. I was there next to you,” Larry sobbed.
His words were hard to distinguish. He knew he had hesitated calling, and this too made him cry. Mary’s superstitions about Cat being a witch, and the hatefulness, made him weak. These accusations had come from the women in Glory Town, and Larry knew the repercussions that Mary would undergo. Sadly, inviting Cat her into their home even to pray for their dying daughter would cause all kinds of trouble.
But, when the ox is in the ditch, one does the unthinkable. “Coming out of a box of superstitious, limiting beliefs is not going to stop me,” Larry decidedly realized. He was going to do what had to be done. But, what he was up against, calling Cat for help—part of the stumbling block—was this “There would, in time, be other problems” voice that was the persistent deterrent. Though he understood the risks, it wasn’t going to stop him.
“But, Larry the roads are icy. She can’t drive here. It’s dangerous,” Mary insisted, even as he was on the phone with Cat.
“Cat, I’ll pick you up. The roads are too bad, otherwise; but, please, will you come?”, he asked, desperately.
“Don’t pick me up. I’m headed your way now,” Cat said.
Mr. Dubois said to Cat, “I’ll drive you.” But, Cat said, “No, I’ll be fine.”
She kissed her father on the cheek after she gathered a few items. Her keys were on the banister. Her mother handed them to her, and handed her a coat. “Put this on, it’s freezing outside.”
“Yes, Mama.” Cat put the heavy coat on.
“Take the truck,” her papa said. “I put chains on the tires this afternoon.”
Cat took the keys and headed out the door.
“Be careful, sweetheart. Call us when you get there, and when you leave,” Mrs. Dubois bade her as she ran toward the farm truck. She drove as quickly as she could with the four-wheel-drive engaged.
Young Tammy’s temperature was at 104.3 F, with rapid respirations and having already suffered two seizures from the high temperature. The veterinarian and the medical doctor had both come and worked on her without success. Their only hope for Tammy was immediate hospitalization fifty miles away through the mountains on the treacherous icy roads. Cat drove down the icy road to the Johnson’s home. She entered their home and walked straight into the bedroom where Tammy had been left to die. The family was there, and some of the church folk; they were all crying.
“Larry, stay with us. Everyone else, leave,” Cat requested. She whispered to Larry, “I can’t work with opposition. Please, have them leave.” She knew with the company present—those who lacked belief in her healing powers, or disbelieved in her God, the true God—that a mi
racle could not manifest.
Larry didn’t hesitate. He sent them all home. “I’ll call you all later,” he said.
“We’ll be praying for Tammy all night,” Opal gracefully stated.
But, all three of the Glory Town prayer warriors who were there—Nan Williams, Opal Smith and Nelda Jones—bowed their heads in horrid disbelief that they should be asked to leave the young girl’s room. “By all means, I don’t believe she asked us to leave. She’s a kid!” Nelda uttered under her breath, irritated and having felt accused by a nobody. After all, everyone knew the three of them were the best of the best when it came to prayers being heard. Each of them attended all prayer services that any of the denominations held. They were accepted by everyone; and it was understood by all that they were “the” prayer warriors, not Cat Dubois.
They went out grumbling over the dismissal. “Thank you. Thank you for all your help. We appreciate all you’ve done,” Larry said as he closed the front door on the fellowship of Glory Town’s faithful prayer warrior women.
“They don’t know what they’re doing—asking that girl to come! My goodness, wait ‘til the others hear about this,” Nan piped in with her two cents.
Meanwhile, Cat sat next to the bed on the floor beside the unconscious Tammy. “Tammy, do you hear me?”, she asked. Tammy did not respond, but she did fidget. “Look, her brow is rising. Has she been communicating with you this way?”
“No,” Larry said. “She hasn’t spoken in any way.”
Tammy’s right leg moved, then her left, as if she were in pain. “My bones hurt,” she said. Cat could hear that her mouth was dry. “Bring her some ice chips.” Then, Cat began to pray. She never noticed that her prayer was not in English. Mary and Larry listened to Cat speak to Tammy in some foreign language. Mary then went to the kitchen, returning with a few chips of ice. Cat placed a small chip under Tammy’s tongue, and continued with praying the strange words that didn’t seem strange to her at all. “Père, votre enfant a besoin de guérison. S'il vous plaît, je vous demande de guérir son corps et son esprit. Merci.” Cat prayed this simple prayer throughout the late night. It meant, “Father, your child needs healing. Please, I ask you to heal her body and her mind. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
