THERE WERE NOW three machines attached to her mother. Each one made a different noise, and in the silence of the intensive care room, they clattered and wheezed and rang in a type of discordant melody.
Elsie was almost used to it now.
Six days earlier, her mother had collapsed when she’d gone to pick up her father from the bus station. When her father had seen how ill she was, he quickly hired an Englischer to take them to the hospital. The doctors at the hospital discovered she had a severe case of pneumonia, a terribly high fever, and several other complications.
Well, that was what Elsie had heard.
Now, her mother seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness with sluggish ease, much to the physician’s dismay. It seemed most people responded to the medication and were much better after a day or so. That wasn’t the case for Marie Keim, however. No matter how much any of them begged or prayed, she didn’t seem in any hurry to return to them. So they’d all had to make do with holding her hand and hoping for a miracle.
Elsie was okay with doing that, though she’d privately given up on waiting for miracles years ago. Now that she was twenty-two, she had quite a bit of experience with the Lord’s will. If He wanted something to happen, no amount of prayer or wishing could change His plans.
“Ahh, Mamm,” she said. “When are you going to get better? We need your help at home. Things are a real mess, and they don’t look like they are going to get calmer anytime soon.”
Though she didn’t really expect an answer, Elsie stared at her mother, hoping against hope that she would suddenly open her eyes and tell her what to do.
But of course, the only sound she heard was the steady beeping of the machines.
“How’s she doing today, Elsie?” Dr. Fisher said from the doorway. He was a pulmonary specialist, and he headed up the team of doctors who checked on her mother. Dr. Fisher’s hospital rounds always seemed to coincide with Elsie’s visits.
She was glad of that. She liked the man from Alabama. He had a chatty, kind way about him, and she trusted him. Far more than the rest of the family did.
Perhaps it was because she was used to doctors poking at her head and staring into her eyes, or asking her to lie down in fancy MRI machines.
Looking back at her mother, Elsie said, “I’m afraid things seem about the same, Dr. Fisher. Every once in a while, she opens her eyes, but closes them fast again.” She pointed to the little computer that all the doctors and nurses used now. “What do you think?”
“About the same thing.” Pulling up a metal chair, he sat down next to her. “I’m sorry, Elsie. I thought she would have recovered by now.”
“Me, too,” she said softly. “Mamm is always okay. It feels strange to go home and not have her bustling around the kitchen.”
“I bet.” He stared solemnly at the machines, paying close attention to one of the screens that showed little lines rising and falling. “How are you doing?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Your sister told me that you’ve been in the hospital before for tests.”
“Only for my eyes.” Lifting her chin, she peered at him through thick lenses. “I’m slowly going blind, you see. I have keratoconus.” As she heard her voice, sounding so prickly and combative, she inwardly winced. She had quite a chip on her shoulder about her disease, and it didn’t seem to be going anywhere, either.
But instead of being taken aback, she saw his lips curve upward. “Your sister also told me that you had more spunk than your demure nature suggested.”
“That might be true.”
He chuckled. “Well, if you need something, be sure and let me know, Elsie. Either for your mother, or for your eyes. I happen to know a couple of good specialists.”
“Danke, but I have Dr. Palmer. He’s at the Cleveland Clinic.” Inwardly, she winced. There was that spunk she couldn’t quite seem to turn off.
“You are in good hands. Even I have heard of Dr. Palmer. He is a good doc.” Standing up, he said, “I’ll be back this evening, Elsie.” Playfully, he wagged a finger at her. “But you had better not be here.”
She smiled. “I won’t. My visiting time is almost up. There’s so many of us, we have to take turns.”
When he left, Elsie leaned back again and watched her mother sleep, hoping that before long, Mamm would soon be wide awake and bossing them all around.
Closing her eyes, Elsie prayed that would be the case. And as the machines beeped and rang around her, she gave herself over to the rhythm and prayed some more.
“Hey, Elsie?” her father said from the doorway, “the driver has arrived. Viola’s going to take her turn now, so we need to head on home.”
“All right.” After kissing her mother’s paperlike cheek, she followed her daed out to the waiting room, pausing only briefly to glance her twin’s way.
Then they walked outside into the bright sunlight, where the van was waiting.
The sudden change in light stung her eyes something awful. If she’d been alone, she would have stopped and pressed her palms to her eyes in a puny effort to shield her vision.
But her father was there, and he already had so many worries, she was afraid if she added one more burden, he might not be able to handle it. So she squinted and walked across the small, covered portico.
Pretended she felt no pain.
And tried not to show how upset she was that the light of day was making her ache for the dark of night. It didn’t seem fair that she was longing for the darkness when soon that would be all she had.
It was going to be time to call Dr. Palmer again, and soon. He’d warned of this.
But she wasn’t going to call, not quite yet.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Credits
Cover design by Mary McAdam Keane
Cover photographs: (man) © Gerrit de Heus / Alamy;
(woman) © Andre Jenny / Alamy;
(scene) © Suzanne Tucker /Shutterstock Images
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
P.S.™ is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.
RAY OF LIGHT. Copyright © 2013 by Shelley Shepard Gray. Excerpt from Eventide © 2013 by Shelley Shepard Gray. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
ISBN 978-0-06-220442-4
EPub Edition May 2013 ISBN 9780062204431
13 14 15 16 17 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
dedication
To Lynne. Thank you for your friendship, your pep talks, your kindness, for everything!
epigraphs
It speaks of peace that comes after strife,
Of the rest He sends to the hearts He tried,
Of the calm that follows the stormiest life—
God’s eventide.
~From Eventide, by John McCrae
He shows mercy from generation to generation to all who fear him.
~Luke 1:50 (NLT)
contents
dedication
epigraphs
prologue
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
; chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
chapter twenty-one
chapter twenty-two
chapter twenty-three
chapter twenty-four
chapter twenty-five
chapter twenty-six
chapter twenty-seven
chapter twenty-eight
chapter twenty-nine
chapter thirty
epilogue
P.S.: Insights, Interviews & More . . .
About the author
About the book
Read on
credits
copyright
prologue
Ten Years Ago
She could see.
Elsie Keim closed her eyes, then looked through the brand-new lenses again.
Dr. Palmer, standing over her right shoulder, met her gaze in the mirror and grinned. “What do you think, Elsie?”
“I think it’s wunderbaar,” she whispered.
“I hope that means you’re pleased?”
Gently fingering the brown plastic frames that now outlined her eyes, she thought she looked very smart. She hoped she did, anyway. A couple of kids in her school had been calling her “dumm Elsie” for months now. She’d been too embarrassed to tell them that the problem wasn’t that she couldn’t read; it was that she couldn’t see the words on the board.
Turning away from her reflection, she smiled brightly at Dr. Palmer. “I’m mighty pleased, doktah. Danke for the glasses.”
“It’s my job, Elsie, and I am happy for you. Now, don’t forget to take things slow. The world might look a little different now that you can see so much better.” Shaking a finger playfully, he warned, “Don’t forget what I said about the headaches.”
“I won’t.”
Dr. Palmer had explained that her body might need a couple of days to get used to the changes in her vision, and not to be afraid to take some pain reliever if the headaches got too painful.
He handed her a business card. “I’ll give your parents a card, but I want you to always have my number, too.” He paused. “You did say you could walk down to your phone shanty, yes?”
She nodded.
“Then please listen closely. These are your eyes, and when it comes to that, you’re the smartest person around. If your vision begins to blur, or your headaches get worse . . . or anything else happens out of the ordinary, call me.”
She folded her hand around his card. She didn’t want to be without his phone number ever. So far, Dr. Palmer was the only person with whom she’d been able to discuss her poor eyesight with complete honesty.
“So, are you ready to go show your new glasses to your family?”
“I am.” She knew she looked anxious and overly eager, but she couldn’t help it. Finally, she was going to be able to explain to them that she was just fine. Now she would be able to be a big help around the house, just like her brother and twin sister. She wouldn’t be the sister who couldn’t do anything anymore.
Dr. Palmer patted her shoulder. “Let’s go show you off, then.”
She chuckled as she followed him out of the examining room, down the hall, past the nurses and the lab. Finally, he opened a door and waved her forward.
She walked out to the waiting room, sure she was flashing the biggest smile of her life.
But instead of looking happy, her mother burst into tears. “Oh Elsie, look at you!”
Startled, she turned to her father for an explanation. But Daed wasn’t looking her way, he was comforting her mamm. And Roman was staring like he’d never seen her before. Even her grandparents looked sad, like they were on their way to a funeral.
Little by little, her confidence drained away. Things weren’t better.
She felt Dr. Palmer tense beside her.
“Doktah?” she whispered. “They’re not happy.”
“It’s okay, Elsie,” he whispered right back. “They just don’t understand. But they will. No matter what happens, you are going to be just fine, I promise you that. Give them a chance to come around.”
Taking his words to heart, she walked to her twin’s side. “Viola, what do you think of my new glasses?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice bright. “Do ya like them? I couldn’t decide between gold rims and these brown ones.”
Viola bit her lip, then nodded. “You look fine.”
Elsie lifted her chin up. “Vi, I can see now. I can see everything.”
But Viola didn’t seem to understand what a happy day this was. She grabbed Elsie’s hand. “Elsie, I’m so sorry. I feel terrible,” she muttered as tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know why you had to be the one to go blind and not me.”
When Dr. Palmer left, leaving her alone with her family, she looked around the room. Their expressions were sad, dismayed, and dismal.
She knew, because she could see each one of them almost perfectly.
And now, for the first time in her life, she wished she had already gone blind. It was becoming very clear that sometimes, it was far better to be left in the dark.
chapter one
There were three machines attached to her mother. Each one made a different noise, and in the silence of the intensive care room, they clattered and wheezed and rang in a type of discordant melody.
Elsie was almost used to it now.
Six days earlier, her mother had collapsed when she’d gone to pick up her father from the bus station. When her father had seen how ill she was, he quickly hired an Englischer to take them to Union Hospital in Dover. The doctors at the hospital discovered she had a severe case of pneumonia, a terribly high fever, and several other complications.
Well, that was what Elsie had heard.
Now, her mother seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness with sluggish ease, much to the physicians’ dismay. It seemed most people responded to the medication and were better after a day or so. That wasn’t the case of Marie Keim, however. No matter how much any of them begged or prayed, she didn’t seem in any hurry to return to them. Even when she opened her eyes, she rarely seemed aware of her surroundings. So they’d all had to make do with holding her hand and hoping for a miracle.
Elsie was okay with doing that, though she’d privately given up on waiting for miracles years ago. Now that she was twenty-two, she had quite a bit of experience with the Lord’s will. If He wanted something to happen, no amount of prayer or wishing could change His plans.
“Ach, Mamm,” she said. “When are you going to get better? We need your help at home. Things are a real mess, and they don’t look to get straightened out anytime soon.”
Though she didn’t really expect an answer, Elsie stared at her mother, hoping against hope that she would suddenly open her eyes and tell her what to do.
But, of course, the only sound she heard was the steady beeping of the machines.
“How’s she doing today, Elsie?” Dr. Bolin said from the doorway. He was a pulmonary specialist, and he headed up the team of doctors who checked on her mother. Dr. Bolin’s hospital rounds always seemed to coincide with Elsie’s visits.
She was glad of that. She liked the man, who was about her parents’ age and from Alabama. He had a chatty, kind way about him, and she trusted him. Far more than the rest of the family seemed to.
Perhaps it was because she was used to doctors poking at her head and staring into her eyes, or asking her to lie down in fancy MRI machines.
Looking back at her mother, Elsie said, “I’m afraid things seem about the same, Doktah Bolin. Every once in a while, she opens her eyes, but closes them fast again.” She pointed to the little computer that all the doctors and nurses used now. “What do you think?”
Pulling up a metal chair, he sat down next
to her. “I’m sorry, Elsie. I thought she would have recovered by now.”
“Me, too,” she said softly. “Mamm is always gut. She’s the one who takes care of the rest of us. It feels strange to go home and not see her bustling around the kitchen.”
“I bet.” He stared solemnly at the machines, paying close attention to one of the screens that showed little lines rising and falling. “How are you doing?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Your sister told me that you’ve been in the hospital before for tests.”
“Only for my eyes. And usually, I go over to Sugarbush Eye and Laser Centre, in Ashland.” Lifting her chin, she peered at him through thick lenses. “I’ve got a bad case of keratoconus. Slowly but surely, I’m losing my vision.”
As she heard her voice, sounding so prickly and combative, she inwardly winced. She’d always had a chip on her shoulder about her disease, ever since she’d gotten glasses and felt she was cured, only to see that her family saw it as the greatest failure of all.
But instead of being taken aback, she was almost sure she saw the doctor’s lips curve upward. “Your sister also told me that you had more spunk than your demure nature suggested.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but that might be true,” she said with a smile.
He chuckled. “Well, if you need something, be sure and let me know, Elsie. Either for your mother, or for your eyes. I happen to know a couple of good specialists.”
The Days of Redemption Page 45
