Rosie hugged Sara tightly, unsure if she’d ever feel the warm embrace of her own mother again.
“Well, I’ll go and find something to do.” Sara got up to leave. “Eat your sandwich, then get some rest, okay? You’ve had a long day.”
“Nana, when are we going back to see Mom?”
“First thing in the morning, honey. We’re gonna go there every day ‘til she’s back home with us.”
Although her grandmother seemed confident that Mira will be home again, Rosie wasn’t so sure.
Sara escaped to her bedroom and fell to her knees at her bedside. She felt ill as she thought about breaking the devastating news to Wade.
Drenched in tears, she uttered softly:
“Dear God, all throughout my life I haven’t asked you for much, no matter how challenging things got. I always kinda thought that someone else out there needed more help than I did and I didn’t wanna take up your time with my issues. But today, I need you more than I’ve ever needed you before and I hope it’s okay if I’m a little selfish here wanting your full attention just for a minute. My child – Your child, Mira, needs your help urgently. She’s just clinging to life right now and I don’t want her to go. Please, heal her body and bring her back to us. If not for me, do it for Rosie. She needs her mother. Please, I beg you… don’t take her away like you took Michael. I still miss him so much today. My heart aches when I think of all the time we’ve spent together, especially those years before he died. His passing hurt Rosie so badly; she can’t deal with another person she loves so much – her own dear mother – being ripped away from her too.”
For a few moments, Sara knelt in silence. The thick brown drapes at her windows did not allow even a sliver of light to pass through. The stillness of the room, for a while, awakened more cherished memories. “Please… please, God. Don’t let my Sweet Pea die!”
It felt like a long time before Sara finally managed to get up off her knees. She didn’t recall ever praying that hard for anything before and hoped with everything inside that her prayer would be answered.
Now in the armchair next to the bed, she looked at the telephone on the nightstand. She knew what she had to do, but dreaded it. After all, she’d never seen two siblings closer than Mira and Wade. They’ve always had each other’s back and no one could ever get between them as kids – not even their own parents. Always defending and taking the blame for each other when they had no idea she and Michael knew better. The news would devastate Wade, and as much as Sara didn’t want to alarm him, she realized he had a right to know. Finally, she mustered up the courage and dialed his number.
Although she had done so as delicately as she could, breaking the news to him wasn’t easy at all.
“What?” Wade exclaimed.
Sara nodded as if he could see her. “I’m sorry, honey. They have her under close observation.”
“I’ll be home on the next flight!”
“Honey, now, I don’t think you need to do that at this point. Why don’t we just wait and see how your sister progresses before you come all the way here?” Sara suggested.
“I’m coming, Mom. She’s obviously in serious condition. I have to see her.”
“Listen to me… this thing just happened today and they’re doing all they can at the hospital to bring the swelling down. I’m sure she’ll wake up soon and her body will heal quickly. Your sister’s very strong. If you come, there’s nothing you can do, honey. There’s nothing any of us can do except wait and see.”
“What if...”
“Don’t think like that.”
“If she does and I didn’t get to say goodbye, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself,” Wade said.
Sara felt a sudden rush of rage. “Dammit! If you come home, Wade, it’ll be knocking the faith I have in Mira’s recovery right out the door! It’ll be like saying, she’s not gonna make it! I don’t want you to come,” she said sternly. “God forbid, if it doesn’t work out the way we’re hoping, you can blame me for not getting to say your goodbyes. I’ll take that blame, but the one thing I won’t do is give up on her while there’s still a chance that she’ll pull through. You understand what I’m saying?”
There was total silence on the other line. Undoubtedly, Wade had heard the extreme fear in his mother’s voice and he understood right then and there, she was crying out to him. Fighting against his will, he sighed and humbly said, “I understand, Mom.”
Quickly realizing she’d flown off the handle, which was rather unusual for her, Sara cleared her throat and gently said, “I’m sorry I acted that way, honey, but I promise you, Mira is going to be all right. Look, you can call the hospital and speak with Dr. Lee. He’s expecting your call. As physicians, you can discuss the details more in depth. In the meantime, I’ll keep you up-to-date with her progress as quickly as I learn anything new, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good! Are Norma and Tommy still on that cruise with her folks?”
“Yeah. They’ll be back the day after tomorrow,” he replied.
“Wade, I love you,” Sara said passionately. “Thanks for being such a wonderful son. I will talk to you tomorrow.”
“I love you too. Uh, Mom?”
“Yes, honey.”
“When you go back to the hospital, will you tell Mira that I love her too?”
Sara smiled, through the heartache. “I surely will. You take care of yourself now.”
After they hung up, Wade sat alone at home, feeling sorry for his sister, but at the same time, admiring his mother’s strength. As difficult as it was for him to resist catching the next flight out, he knew he had to stay in The Bahamas – at least for the meanwhile.
5
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The Recovery Room was cool and quiet that night as nurses periodically checked on Mira. Every hour, a sphygmomanometer was rolled into the room and the cuff strapped on her left arm to get a blood pressure reading. Mira lay motionless as they came and went. Then at 4:23 a.m., a thin layer of herself peeled away from her physical body, and bare-footed in her hospital gown, she slowly left the room and sauntered into the open area. While inside that immobile, fleshly shell, she had seen him many times since the accident. He was always at a distance – his back to her, so she never saw his face. He was extremely tall – at least seven feet – with a fairly broad physique, and his shoulder-length blonde hair added to his angelic appearance. What subtracted from that innocent, celestial look was the pitch-black, flowing robe he wore with a dark brown rope-like belt wrapped loosely around his waist. His commanding, yet sinister presence troubled Mira and she knew he was there in that hospital now, just as he was on the highway when that excavator tumbled over the cliff and crushed several vehicles beneath. In her mind, she had seen him at every vehicle where the injured party never left the scene alive. He had come for them – one by one, ready or not. There was no second chance; no bargaining. What’s done was done. Now, she felt him there, not far away at all. She could not rest.
She looked back and saw a nurse enter her room again with the same blasted machine that mercilessly squeezed her arm. Yet, she never felt it – just knew what the thing was doing. In fact, she felt nothing within the confines of her own flesh — no injections, the surgical knife… nothing.
For a second, she wondered what that young nurse would think if she realized the patient wasn’t really there – at least for the moment. Aware that three other patients in that large space had also been victims of the Well Stevens Drive tragedy, Mira scanned the area, and instantly, terror plunged into her being when she spotted him at the bedside of one of them. It was a woman who appeared to be in her early to mid-twenties, also hurt badly to the point she had been placed in a body cast. Mira was beginning to comprehend the reason for this man’s presence, and she inwardly abhorred it. What he stood for represented the part of life that no one ever looked forward to or while living, many didn’t give much serious thought to — that is, until he suddenly showed up.
As much as she wanted to cry out; to shout at and demand that he go away, she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She knew it wasn’t her place.
Tamara Underwood was her name. One year earlier, she had finished college and had a promising career at Heathroe Pharmaceuticals - a job she absolutely loved. She was on her way there when fate stood in the way and landed her in a place she never wanted to be. Yet, as bad as her injuries were, doctors believed she stood a fighting chance. They were wrong. Death was there to snuff the life right out of her. She was not given an option; could not call Mommy and Daddy and say one last goodbye. It was time to go and nothing and no one could stop that.
Standing across the room, Mira watched as Tamara sat up – the filmy, transparent side of her that was similar to the way she saw herself – that part of her they call the soul. With widened eyes, she was facing the one dispatched to claim her. Mira could see the panic in those eyes; the shock and the distress. Tamara shook her head in vigorous protest, but with an outstretched arm, he pulled her delicate soul into himself and as the air thickened in the room, he, too, vanished within its embrace.
Mira was stunned. She could not help but wonder what happened to loved ones who’d already passed on, coming to that dying person to lead them over to the other side. Why did this angel of death have to come?
She soon spotted him again through her peripheral vision. He was walking calmly down the spacious corridor. Curious as to where he might be going, Mira decided to follow, keeping a good distance behind him, as she certainly did not want to attract his attention. Male Surgical #1 was above the double doors straight ahead of them. He walked with authority and purpose, and Mira knew within the depths of her soul, he was headed to claim yet another life. How could something so outwardly stunning be so ruthless? She wondered, convinced that he was indeed an angel… of death.
As if he could not pass straight through the doors, he extended both arms forward and pushed the heavy doors apart. The large, green entry button would not be something he would find useful.
On the other side of those doors, Mira continued to follow him. He passed every patient on both sides of the Ward and stopped only when he got to the bed of Walter Jackson – a man in his late seventies. Walter had been admitted, yet again, for heart trouble – an issue that had plagued him ever since he was in his thirties and one he’d been told he’d inherited from his late father, Jacques. Walter knew this recent admission to hospital might be his last. He said his goodbyes days ago to Emily, his loving wife of thirty years; sons: Timothy and Ronnie; and daughter: Sandra. He’d made peace with His Maker and now... just waited.
The man stood at the foot of Walter’s bed as Mira remained approximately forty feet away, watching for the inevitable.
Walter was not asleep. He was staring up at the ceiling before his eyes met those of the man that had paid him a visit. That long, strong arm stretched out again toward the soul it had marked, and like Tamara did only minutes before, Walter sat straight up, but with him, it was different. He didn’t appear alarmed, but a look of serenity and relief covered his face. The visitor’s presence didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. It was almost as if Walter welcomed his arrival. With the closure of the man’s hand, Walter was sucked into it and then up through the ceiling. But wait! That didn’t happen with Tamara! Mira thought. She saw her soul sucked into this supposed dark angel, but not through and away. What could this mean? Then, suddenly, for the first time, Mira saw the man turn… in her direction. She gasped, but did nothing more, except stare into those deep, black eyes of his which sent chills all the way through her. She had now seen his face – a face that was strikingly handsome – more beautiful than that of any man she’d ever laid eyes on. But those eyes which held a deeper shade of black she’d never seen before, were beyond terrifying. It felt like an eternity in which he stared and stood there without the utterance of a single word. Mira wondered what was going through his mind and what he would do next. Every possibility frightened her. Then to her relief, he slowly turned away and nonchalantly continued down the corridor. Mira no longer had the slightest bit of interest in following him. Glancing around the Ward at all the sick people, her heart went out to them. She knew at some unexpected moment, more of them will meet, face to face, the one who strolled the hallways to claim their soul.
As she headed back, she noticed a familiar face approaching the door of her little room. The girl’s long, brown hair was badly matted and her right arm dangled from her clavicle.
“Tamara?”
The girl stopped and slowly turned around. She was undoubtedly a pitiful sight. Mira could see all of her broken bones straight through the white hospital gown she wore; her ruptured appendix, and colon that was thickly coated with a white, slimy substance that appeared to indicate disease.
“I want my mommy...” Tamara said, sadly. “Where am I?”
Mira’s heart sank. She knew this young woman had suffered a very different fate than Walter had, although both were claimed by Death. Tamara, like the others Mira saw wandering the hallways and even sidewalks of the hospital, were left to find their own way to either inner peace or perhaps, redemption.
“I’m sorry,” Mira replied.
“What?” Tamara looked confused.
“Do you know that you’re...”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Am I... dead?”
Mira nodded, reluctantly.
Visibly saddened, Tamara walked away with her head lowered, passing the bed she had lain in before her death. The bed the orderly was now stripping to prepare for the arrival of the next patient.
6
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Two weeks later...
“Unfortunately, Mrs. Cullen, there’s been no change in your daughter’s condition,” Dr. Lee told Sara.
“Why is she still in a coma? She should have woken up by now; shouldn’t she?” Sara asked.
“I’m afraid that’s a tough one.”
“It’s been weeks now, doctor. Someone has to give me some answers!”
Dr. Lee got up from his desk. He walked around to the front of it, and leaned against it slightly. Subconsciously, he felt he needed to close the distance between him and the concerned mother, particularly at a time like this. “Mrs. Cullen, we may be a small town, but I’m proud that this hospital has attracted some of the most experienced professionals in the Healthcare field. However, as smart and experienced as many of these doctors are, I’m afraid that we don’t have all the answers. Mira, as you know, has sustained very serious injuries, so we have to allow her body time to heal. The body has the amazing ability to rejuvenate itself from almost any circumstance. Many doctors may not come straight out and admit to this since we’re so used to prescribing medications for just about everything, but we’re aware of the body’s capabilities. I hope, that if nothing else I said today re-assures you, that that will. In the meantime, we will continue to do our best to treat your daughter’s injuries with the hope that she’ll pull through and be well on her way to making a full recovery. The fact that she’s still here speaks volumes to me.”
Sara stood up. What he had said meant a lot to her. “Thank you, Doctor.”
On her way out, Dr. Lee said, “Mrs. Cullen?”
“Yes?” Sara waited at the door.
“How’s your granddaughter?”
She sighed. “I guess as good as is expected. She misses her mother.”
Lee nodded. His heart went out to her and little Rosie. And although when he was in medical school, yearning more than anything to finally enter the profession and save the world, now that he was where he was meant to be, he knew there was nothing he could do to bring their loved one back to them. Being a doctor, that reality was one he could never get accustomed to.
* * * *
With a couple of hours left before having to pick up Rosie from school, Sara parked her car in front of Grandview Cemetery and reached for the bouquet of fresh flowers on the passenger seat. She had just purchased them
from Munfort, the town’s oldest florist shop. All of the flowers she had ever put on Michael’s grave came beautifully arranged by Mr. Clive Munfort Jr. himself.
She walked the pathway to her husband’s grave with a heavy heart, desperately needing to be near to what remained of his physical body, and to just pour out her heart to him. After all, it was their little girl who was suffering.
She knelt beside the grave and with her hand, swept away the dust and debris that had covered his tombstone, then gently rested the flowers in front of it. For a while, she only sat there reminiscing on the life they shared together and the times when Wade and Mira were little children playing in the yard and even “bat and ball”, as they called it, in the street in front of the house with the neighbors’ kids. She remembered the good times and the not-so-good times – all with a grateful heart that, in spite of everything, they made it through, and their later years were much better than the previous ones. Her eyes were filled with tears as scenes of when Mira was a baby flashed through her mind – even the day she was born – how proud they were that they now had a daughter. They were special memories – something that could never be taken away from her and Michael, the love of her life.
The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection Page 43
