Healing Waters

by Nancy Rue

  “I’m being sarcastic,” I said. “I’ll sleep down here tonight.”

  “Please call me if you get concerned about her. I left my cell number on the kitchen counter.” He gave me the half grin. “And some sweet tea in the fridge. You should try it—especially if you want to stay awake. There’s enough sugar in there to give you ADD.”

  I tried to decide that he was just another man who assumed that since I was fat, I’d love to consume large amounts of refined cane. But I couldn’t quite get there, not with the way he tilted his head at me and said, “Rest well, Lucia.”

  I sat up at the kitchen counter for a while, afraid to eat because I could hear Marnie in her room downstairs, probably packing. I found a piece of paper and tried making a list of things I could do to draw Bethany out.

  • turn off the TV

  • inventory toys with her; find out what she likes to play with

  • set up play date with some GIRLS

  • find Hershey bars

  • for Bethany

  • and me

  I was about to crumple it up when I thought I heard Sonia call to me. But when I got there, her door was still locked, and a quiet call to her elicited nothing but a sleepy moan. After that I attempted to sleep on a suede love seat in the office just outside her bedroom, but between my backside hanging halfway off and the stuff wrestling in my head and the muttering that came from my sister’s direction, I gave up around five and went for the kitchen. Muttering meant she was alive. But I wouldn’t be if I didn’t eat something.

  The empty kitchen met me with its arms open. Arms that beckoned with promises of comfort, and in spite of the hope that Sullivan Crisp could help me with Bethany and Sonia, I still had such an empty place to fill.

  But the kitchen’s arms were jealous ones, I knew. Once I let them take hold of me, they weren’t going to let go. At five in the morning, though, who was going to find me there, giving in to them?

  I walked resolutely to the pantry. I didn’t have to give in completely. I needed to eat or I wouldn’t get through a day that promised to be more draining than the day before. Just eat a bowl of cereal. And a banana. A little milk.

  I saw a bag of potato chips first. Somebody had gone grocery shopping. Must have been Marnie.

  I licked the salt off of the first chip, softening it to dissolve like a Communion wafer in my mouth. As it turned soggy, I added another one and another one, until I had to gulp to swallow them. A few more and the pain would disappear and I could stop. I ate the next twenty without ritual, faster, with the fear that they wouldn’t fill me up. As I dug deep into the bottom, my cell rang in my pocket.

  I dropped the bag like a thief and rummaged for the phone. I didn’t take the time to see who it was before I whispered a hoarse, “Hello.”

  “You didn’t call me yesterday,” Chip said.

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t have time.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I said no anyway. With one hand over the phone, I shoved the chip bag to the back of the pantry shelf.

  “Lucia.”

  “What?”

  “It’s pure chaos, isn’t it?”

  “It’s—yeah.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m calling you at this hour. It’s the only time you’re free, am I right?”

  His voice didn’t hold an I-told-you-so. It was somehow understanding, and I wanted to cling to it, let it hold me for a minute.

  “I called to tell you I’m going on the road today,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “Up Boston way. We’re demonstrating a new MRI.”

  “Okay,” I said. I wondered vaguely where Marnie planned to go from here. The urge to cling passed.

  “Lucia.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you do this for twenty-seven more days?”

  Dread descended on me.

  “You don’t have to answer,” he said. “I miss you, babe.”

  He didn’t wait for me to answer that one either.

  The faint call of “Lucia?” from Sonia’s suite made me stuff the phone back into my pocket and hurry to her. She stood in the open doorway, mask off, head bare, eyes unnaturally bright.

  “I’m glad you’re up,” she said. “I’m ready to start the day. Does Marnie have the coffee ready?”

  “I thought Marnie quit,” I said carefully.

  Sonia gave me the twisted smile. “So did Marnie. Get her, would you? I’m going to pray with her. I’ve been praying all night, in fact, and I know what has to be done. Oh, and while I’m talking to her, would you mind calling Roxanne?”

  I would mind incredibly.

  “She and I are going to start a whole new ministry. I can’t wait to get started.” She stared at me. “So—go get Marnie.”

  I did not get Marnie. I went to the kitchen and found the card Sullivan Crisp had left on the counter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Part Two of What I Know to Be True,” Sully said into the microphone. “God is a divine loving presence. I couldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning if I didn’t know that. And if it sounds like I just did, you’re right.”

  He’d considered gargling to get rid of the morning croak before he started this, but since he’d awakened with the first thought he could possibly use, he’d decided to capture it before the day tangled it up.

  “But I can’t be out of bed for more than about five minutes before I’m keenly aware of another presence, and that is human suffering. It’s a presence so real I can feel it in my empty gut, taste it with the morning bad breath. This is what I do not know, and what I hope I can explore with you in these podcasts: how can we reconcile the stinking, groaning, biting fact of human suffering with the undeniable existence of a God who loves us?”

  The cell phone rang, and he could have kissed it. He was too close to tears to go on with this right now. When he heard the concern in Lucia’s voice, he was out the door before she even asked him to come.

  Sonia was enthroned in what she called the Gathering Room, minus mask and hat and any semblance of normality. While Sonia Cabot was never what he considered “normal” by most standards, she’d always been uniquely within the bounds of sanity. One look at the wild gleam in her already disconcerting eyes, and he was ready to call 911.

  “Sully!” she said. The rich voice was in threads, and she didn’t seem to be aware that it had come undone. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Lucia—where is Marnie? Sully needs coffee.”

  Sully exchanged glances with Lucia, who shook her head almost imperceptibly. She made an obvious attempt to keep the fear out of her eyes.

  “I haven’t seen her yet,” Lucia said.

  “I thought I told you to go get her. You know what—never mind. I’m done—I’m firing her. Lucia, you can be my assistant. I should have hired you a long time ago.”

  Sully studied the rambling as it went on. Sonia was flirting on the edge of reality. He needed to see if she could focus on demand, or if she was about to start looking for Marnie under the wallpaper.

  “Lucia,” he said. “I think I could use a cup of coffee.” He widened his eyes at her.

  She nodded and left the room.

  “I should hire you too,” Sonia said.

  She gave him the smile he had to force himself to return. He sat down across from her and watched her twist her fingers together like a dishcloth.

  “How are those?” he said, nodding at her hands.

  “Wonderful. I’ve almost forgotten they were ever burned. Isn’t God good, Sully?”

  “He is. It’s amazing the number of different ways He works.”

  “I love that too.” She picked up the remote control. “Do you mind if I turn on Roxanne’s show? I want to know the minute she’s done so I can call her.”

  “Roxanne’s been a good friend to you.”

  Sonia nodded as she switched on the TV. “The best. We’re starting an entirely new ministry together. Abundant Living h
as turned completely away from what it started out to be.”

  Roxanne’s unmistakable red hair appeared on the screen.

  “That has to be a disappointment,” Sully said.

  “No—it’s an enlightenment. It’s God showing me that if I’m going to keep my ministry pure, I have to steer it myself.”

  “You and Roxanne.”

  Sonia nodded and turned up the volume. “Listen to her. She has such a heart for faith healing.”

  “We reject the suffering of Paula and Roger, in your name, Lord,” Roxanne said. “And we embrace your power to take away their grief and bring them to the understanding that you have new and abundant life for them. Amen.”

  Sonia knotted her fingers and nodded vehemently and muttered amens.

  Sully couldn’t quite squeeze one out for this God-as-a-cosmicfairy-godmother approach.

  On the screen, Roxanne opened her green eyes and looked into the camera. “Today is both a happy and a sad day for me,” she said. “Sad because this is my last appearance on Power Praying, which ends a period in my life that has blessed me and I hope has blessed you too.”

  Huh. Roxanne hadn’t wasted any time heeding Sonia’s call. Sully wondered if she had any idea of her friend’s mental state.

  “But it’s a happy day as well. You know, they say that when God closes a door He opens a window, and He certainly has for me. Abundant Living Ministries has honored me with the position of spokesperson.”

  Sully stopped breathing.

  “You know that our dear Sonia Cabot has had to step down due to her recent injuries, and we are all praying for her physical and spiritual recovery. I have been asked to take her place, and I have accepted that call.”

  “Excuse me, Sully.”

  Sonia rose from her chair and stood unsteadily, reddened hands searching the air for support.

  He reached for her, but she stiffened her arms.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room. I prayed all night, you know.”

  “Sonia,” Sully said. “You have to be hurting. We can talk, just friend to friend.”

  The eyes she turned on him were blank. “I’m not hurting. Roxanne is hurting. People hurt because they have no faith, Sully.”

  “That’s certainly part of it. Let’s get that coffee we were talking about.”

  “That’s all of it. You don’t know. That’s all of it.” She darted suddenly from the room. “That’s all of it,” she said—again and again until he heard a door slam.

  Sully met Lucia coming out of the kitchen.

  “Did you get all that?” he said.

  She didn’t have to answer. He saw it in the knot she made with her mouth.

  “Do you have any suggestions?” she said.

  Sully folded his arms. “We could call a mobile unit or try to get her to the emergency room, but unless she’s a danger to herself or someone else, they’re not going to do much.”

  “Next,” she said.

  Sully nodded. “Yeah, I’m not too crazy about that option myself. Look, she just suffered another huge blow. Why don’t you try to keep things as normal for her as possible, and that might give me a chance to talk to her, get her to see somebody willingly.”

  “Normal?” she said. “What the Sam Hill is that?”

  “I hear you,” he said. “I’d also suggest that you find someplace else for Bethany to go today. Just in case something does—”

  “I could have Didi take her out for the day.” Lucia gave him a near-grateful look. “Coffee’s ready. Help yourself.”

  He let her escape and wandered into the kitchen, where even in the midst of her sister teetering on the edge of madness, Lucia had set out a cup, a spoon, a napkin, a bagel.

  Sully doctored a mug of coffee with sugar and cream and took it to the sit-down counter and blew into the steam. He started to move a piece of paper out of the way. Looked like a list, possibly something Lucia meant to take with her.

  Okay, God, forgive me . . .

  He read it:

  For Bethany —

  • turn off the TV

  • inventory toys with her; find out what she likes to play with

  • set up play date with some GIRLS

  • find Hershey bars

  • for Bethany

  • and me

  An ache formed in Sully’s chest. What could make a beautiful person hide that kind of goodness? He wasn’t confident of finding that out, not if she kept insisting it was Bethany she wanted to help. And Sonia. What he wouldn’t give to get her to dig into her own . . .

  He stopped and stared into the swirl of cream in his coffee. How many months had it been since he’d felt that pull to help someone embrace her pain? That he felt it again after two long months was a miracle. Whether he could ever pull it off again was the question.

  I got Didi to take Bethany out. Do something fun, I told her. She looked doubtful, but she agreed.

  Then I took a deep breath and approached Sonia’s room. To my utter amazement, the door was unlocked and she sat placidly at the window, still without her mask but dressed in slacks and a tunic that swallowed her diminishing frame. Even her frail tail of hair was neatly tucked into place at the nape of her neck.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  “I am more than okay,” she said. “As each person I depended on betrays me, I just become more aware that God and I are in this alone.” She looked up at me, eyes bird-bright. “Except for you. You’re with us.”

  “I’m here to take care of you,” I said. Was that the right thing to say? Should I play along with her—let her think I would be her assistant?

  “I want you to answer some e-mails with me. I’ll show you how I like it done.” Her eyes darted. “Did Marnie leave yet? I want her gone. I’ll pray with her before she goes, but she has to know that I won’t tolerate—”

  With a knock on the door, Sullivan stuck his head in.

  “There’s a Wesley Kane here to see you.”

  “Right,” I said and got out the door before Sonia could batter me with questions. I took Sullivan with me.

  “That’s the physical therapist,” I said. “Should I bring her in?”

  “Talk to her. See if you think Sonia will be receptive.”

  I pressed the heels of my hands to my forehead.

  “Do you want some help with this?” he said.

  “Is it within the limits or the boundaries or whatever they are?”

  He tilted his head at me. “It’s within the realm of common sense.”

  We found Wesley Kane, an African-American in her late thirties, looking out the breakfast nook window toward the river. A low breeze made the water dance lightly in the sun, and I couldn’t blame her for gazing at it.

  “This is one beautiful view,” she said. “Look at that heron.”

  I followed the point of a sturdy finger, which, I noted, bore no rings or nail polish. The rest of her was the same way—smooth and clean and without unnecessary ornamentation except for gold hoop earrings, and those, too, seemed part of her. Even her licoricecolored hair, contoured to her head, said there was nothing about her that didn’t matter.

  “He’s a gorgeous thing,” she said, and finally turned to us. Her dark eyes, shadowed beneath, were large and rich as oil.

  “You’re the physical therapist?” I said.

  She gave me a sardonic smile. “Well, I’m not the cleaning lady.”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean—”

  Good. She hadn’t been here a full minute and I’d already insulted her. I abandoned the idea of making it better and simply shook her warm hand.

  “Lucia Coffey,” I said. “You’ve met Dr. Crisp?”

  The bright eyes went to Sully, who grinned and shook his head. “Not that kind of doctor,” he said. “I’m a psychologist, just here as a friend. I’m not treating Sonia.”

  “Does she need treating?”

  I felt my eyes widen. Okay, this woman cut right to the chase.

  In the long pause
that followed, I realized Sully was waiting for me to answer.

  “Maybe you should fill her in,” I said.

  Sully began the story while I went to the kitchen for coffee and made a mental Wesley Kane list.

  • full of confidence

  Not the kind that came from owning a Louis Vuitton bag.

  • direct

  I wouldn’t lie to those eyes.

  • not one to be told how it is

  My heart sank. Sonia wouldn’t have taken to this woman even in her right mind. Armed with the expectation of disappointment and a tray of steaming coffee mugs, I rejoined them.

  “So, what I’m hearing,” Wesley said, eyes on Sullivan, “is that her mental state is precarious, and you aren’t sure she’s going to respond to physical therapy at this time.”

  “That’s it,” Sullivan said.

  Wesley turned to me. “Is that what I’ve been smelling?”

  I nodded and put a cup in front of her. “What do you take?”

  “I’m going to need it black and strong for what we have ahead of us.”

  Sullivan looked at me.

  “So you’d like to give this a try?” I said.

  “I’m not going to walk out of here without seeing her, if that’s what you mean.”

  Yeah, I guessed that was what I meant. I wasn’t going to argue with her.

  Sullivan picked up a Splenda packet, frowned at it, and got up.

  “We do need to tell you a little about Sonia’s spiritual background,” he said as he exited for the kitchen.

  “I looked at a couple of her books before I came,” Wesley said. “Watched one of her videos.”

  I tended to forget that Sonia’s persona was an item you could pick up in any Christian bookstore.

  Wesley sipped her coffee in a deliberate manner, the way she seemed to do everything so far. “I think I know what we’re dealing with here. I can’t make any promises, because the outcome of physical therapy depends as much on the patient as it does on the therapist.” She looked at Sullivan, who returned to the table with the canister of sugar. “I’m sure it’s the same in your line of work.”