Authors: Jennifer Laurens
A stinging, rough wind seemed to push us through the hospital parking lot and toward the emergency room entrance. Weston held my hand and we waited for the automatic doors to slide open. They did, and sterile air gushed at our faces. We rushed inside. I was struck by the sight of dozens of heavenly beings comforting loved ones in the waiting room, their pure luminescence filled the otherwise cold, drab space with warm light and energy. They were completely intent on providing comfort. None noticed me, even though I felt an instantaneous kinship seeing them.
I gave my name to the nurse at the desk. She eyed Weston and me.
“Family only.”
Weston gave my hand one last squeeze. “I’ll wait out here.”
The receptionist pressed a buzzer and allowed me to enter another door, to the closed off section.
A nurse led me through an open area, lined with curtained sections, some open, some closed, crowded with guardians and family of the ill. At last the nurse pulled back a curtain and Mom and Dad stood, flanking Abria’s bed.
Abria lay on a stiff white-sheeted gurney. A thin, white blanket loosely covered her from the waist down. An IV bag hung at her side, its tube attached to her delicate arm. Her skin was flushed pink from the allergic reaction, and her chest had big red blotches—bruises blooming—across the fair skin where CPR had been administered. At the head of the iron bed stood Matthias, his shining countenance radiating in an orb that encircled him and Abria. His positive energy instantly relieved my fears.
His lips lifted slightly when our eyes met.
Is she going to be okay?
I kept my gaze on Matthias, heart pounding in anticipation for his answer, and I moved to Mom’s side. Mom’s eyes met mine.
I didn’t see tears or redness. A good sign.
I don’t know the answer to that, Zoe. Her life, like all of our lives, is in
God’s hands.
I bit my lip, forcing back a surge of panic, and my gaze shifted to Abria’s resting form on the white sheet.
“Mom.” I wrapped my arms around her. She buckled against me in a soft sob.
Dad’s gentle pat on my shoulder, the scent of his cologne took my gaze to him, now standing behind Mom. His eyes glistened. Could my parents take another blow? How would they survive something as devastating as the loss of a child? They’d already had this test once—with me. I wouldn’t give into fearful conclusions before reality set its foot firmly in one direction. I’d hope.
“Oh no.” Luke’s voice broke the fragile silence. Mom eased from my arms to turn around. Luke’s stride was speedy from the ER door to the curtained area our family occupied. His face paled, his eyes locked on Abria.
Though he glanced at Matthias for a moment, he was too absorbed in the sight of little Abria to pay him much notice.
“What happened?” his voice scratched.
“She had an allergic reaction. It’s rare. Something like one in every three-hundred thousand people,” Dad’s voice tore. “She stopped breathing.
They couldn’t get it regulated.”
“What the hell were they doing using anesthesia?” he shrieked.
“Luke.” Dad placed his hands on Luke’s shoulders. Luke jerked free, his face red with fury. “She’d never have let the dentist touch her unless she’d been put out.”
“So they put her out for a couple of freaking cavities?”
I glanced at Matthias whose expression remained compassionate.
Luke looked ready to jump out of his skin. Dad pulled him in for a hug, but Luke didn’t respond, didn’t soften, just glared at Abria lying on the bed. “This is so screwed,” he bit out, wrenching away from Dad.
“They’re doing everything they can,” Mom offered. “Every hour she’s stable and breathing on her own is a good sign that she’s going to be okay.”
“What do they know? They’re the retards who gave her the anesthesia!”
“Let’s go outside for a second.” I crossed to Luke and wrapped an arm around him, urging him toward the door. “Come on.”
Luke tore free and stormed through the ER door. I glanced at Mom and Dad. My final sweep landed on Matthias whose eyes calmed me before I turned and took off after Luke.
Luke marched through the waiting room to the sliding glass doors.
I tossed a glance at Weston who jumped to his feet. I held up my palm, indicating not to follow us. The doors groaned open and Luke went out into the frigid, windy afternoon. He paced in the load/unload area.
I wrapped my arms around myself against the bite of wind, taking in a deep breath of non-hospital air. “She’s probably going to be fine,” I said.
“You don’t know that. No one knows that.”
“Did you see Matthias? He was there.”
He stopped, turned, faced me. “Yeah, I saw him.” He shifted, and his gaze fell to the concrete sidewalk we stood on. “She looked so small.” His voice was a frightened whisper.
I crossed to him and hugged him. His arms went around me, held tight.
“No, no, no,” Albert’s sarcastic tone caused my heart to leap. I broke my embrace with Luke and stood in front of him, in hopes of shielding him from Albert. Albert, in his black suit and burgundy shirt with that grotesque tie stood three feet away, his hands clasped at his lips. He shook his head, grinned. “A little hug won’t appease young Luke’s fury, Zoe.”
“I can’t believe you’re here, ambulance chaser.”
“Opportunist, yes.”
I wanted to lunge at him and strangle him. I would have, if Luke hadn’t tweaked his face at me.
“Who are you talking to?” He looked around.
Albert’s gaze seemed to challenge me to admit his existence to Luke.
Whatever.
I had nothing to lose. “Nothing,” I savored the word, and Albert stiffened slightly as I said it.
“You seeing spirits again?” Luke queried, his tone, his demeanor shifting from agitated to curious.
“Not any worth talking about.” I forced my gaze to Luke and took his hands in mine. “Let’s go back in and—”
“Luke.”
I turned and found Krissy hurrying across the parking lot toward us. “Is your sister okay?”
“You were with her?” I whispered to Luke.
He lifted a shoulder.
“Ah, the seductive chameleon returns.” Albert clasped his hands behind his back.
“Hi Zoe. I’m so sorry to hear about Abria. Is she okay?”
“She’s… we’re not sure.” Why had Luke brought Krissy to the hospital at a time like this?
Krissy wore her blue jumper but had her hair down around her shoulders. Instead of her usual lace up boots, her feet were clad in brown flip flops in spite of the chilly weather. Even with the fragile moment, her lips quivered, hanging in the balance of a smile she seemed unable to control.
“I hope she’s okay.” She lowered her head.
“Thanks for your concern,” I said.
Behind Luke, Albert’s grin grew. The sight burned my insides.
I opened my mouth to verbally slug him, remembered Krissy standing to my right, and snapped my lips shut.
I tugged Luke’s sleeve. “We should get back inside.”
“Yes, you should.” Albert rocked back on his heels. “Nothing will stir the fire in Luke like seeing his little sister lying helplessly in a hospital room due to the negligence of doctors.”
“You get away from us,” I growled.
Krissy’s eyes widened.
“Z,” Luke whispered.
“I didn’t mean—sorry, Krissy,” I slapped my forehead. “I’m a little out of it with Abria and shock, and the smell of rubbing alcohol and everything.
Brain damage.” Luke’s sleeve in my fist, I started for the ER doors.
Krissy followed.
So did Albert.
Inside, the spirits there to comfort loved ones snapped to attention the moment the ER doors slid closed behind us. My heart pounded. My feet came to a halt. Luke, noticing my wide-eyed stare around the waiting room, came to a stop beside me. “What?”
Weston, too, seemed to notice I was spellbound. He rose from his chair and crossed to me. “Zoe?”
At first I thought the beings gathered were staring at me. Then I realized their glowing gazes were fastened behind me. On Albert. A soft yet urgent pitch—like the hum of speechless voices—resonated through the air.
I turned for a look at Albert.
His hands hung at his sides. A look of arrogance tightened his features and his shoulders were proudly erect. Would he cause these wispy translucent beings and the guardians present to disappear with the wave of his hand?
Suddenly, the beings cocooned their charges in orbs of light. One grey-haired guardian wrapped her arms around a weeping woman for a moment.
From every corner of the waiting room and down a nearby hall, they started in Albert’s direction, the lemon sun color they each possessed gradually growing stronger, more heated, shooting out dynamic white rays that caused me to squint. An overpowering feeling of love pressed through my skin and filled me.
My breath stalled. Luke took Krissy’s hand, and the two of them exchanged glances. Could they see what was going on? Feel it? Weston touched my elbow. “Zoe?”
As the beings’ rays encompassed me, I was bathed in comfort, safety and serenity. Unease drained from my body. My pounding heart slid into a steady beat.
Albert’s back was against the glass doors. The arrogance on his face had been replaced by rounded eyes and an open mouth. His stark black suit bathed in the purifying beams was bleached white. He scrambled like a sewer rat caught in a searchlight.
His arms lifted, crossed over his face in a futile effort to keep the light out, but that was impossible. The power, the piercing whiteness, the sheer love in the room was undeniable and completely inescapable.
Albert fell to his knees.
“Z?” Luke’s soft whisper broke through my consciousness. I felt him at my shoulder, saw his face near mine. “Are you okay?”
“Talk to us,” Weston turned me to face him, but my attention remained riveted to what was happening to Albert.
“I’m okay,” the words squeaked out.
“You sure she’s all right?” Krissy whispered.
I was fascinated. Awed. Spellbound. The beings gathered around Albert, closer. Closer. Some reached out to him, though there was no contact.
He cowered against the door. The sight of his shame was so pathetic and horrible—so misguided—my heart ached in my chest.
Matthias stood five feet away, his blue eyes fastened on the beings surrounding his father. There was no maliciousness in the beings; rather they seemed driven to protect those they were there to comfort. No pleasure danced on their faces. Their countenances, like Matthias’, radiated caring and love. A love so powerful, evil had no place anywhere near it.
Albert dissolved.
As soon as Albert was gone the beings returned to their loved ones within their protective golden orbs. The orbs opened and encompassed each party.
My gaze met Luke and Krissy’s astonished faces. Weston’s grip tightened on my elbow as if double checking that I was all right.
Matthias was gone.
I left Luke and Krissy and went to the buzzer-door. I pressed the button over and over. Pounded. “Let me in!” I had to find Matthias, see if he was all right after seeing his father.
“Z,” Luke hissed in my ear.
The nurse glared at me then allowed the door to open. I stepped through. “Only family,” she barked at Krissy and Weston, who remained behind.
Luke and I wove through the busy ER. “What was that all about?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
We found the curtained area where we’d left Abria, Mom, Dad. And Matthias.
Mom leaned over the bed. Abria’s hand, clutched in hers, was pressed against her chest. Dad stood nearly conjoined to Mom’s back, his face tight in grief. Matthias stood between the wall and the headboard, his hands just above Abria’s head, his head bowed, eyes closed.
Albert. I’m sorry you had to see him.
Matthias’ sharp pain of loss, regret and sadness for his father jabbed once through my soul, then was gone. His gaze lifted.
She’s coming around.
Tears of gratitude sprung from my eyes. I moved to Mom, touched her shoulder. Mom’s free hand reached up and covered mine. Squeezed. Hands grabbed me. Dad. He pulled me into his side. My tears spilled onto his shoulder. “Pray she’s going to make it,” he said.
I nodded. “She will.”
Hours dragged by. The thick scent of antiseptic stripped my senses, leaving me numb. Without sounding overzealous about Abria’s recovery, I tried to comfort my parents and Luke with positive comments and plenty of hugs.
At one point during one of the many long hours, I caught Mom watching me. Curiosity filled her eyes. “Is he here?”
The question seemed to perk Dad and Luke. Luke glanced at Matthias.
Mom and Dad followed his gaze.
“Yes,” I said.
Mom’s mouth opened a little.
“He’s there.” Luke nodded toward the head of the bed, where Matthias had been since the ordeal began.
Both Mom and Dad looked in Matthias’ direction. Mom wiped her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The compassion Matthias shed into the area was strong, and filled me. I was certain Mom and Dad felt it, too.
I let out a silent sigh and prayer, grateful that, even though Abria remained motionless, I knew she was going to be fine. That didn’t change the fact that she looked delicate. So mortal. Mom didn’t let go of Abria’s hand, keeping it sandwiched between hers. Dad sat on a chair next to the bed. Luke sat on the tile floor with his back against one of the walls, his head in his hands. He hadn’t left once.
I’d texted Weston an hour into our waiting and told him to go home.
He said he’d wait, and I hadn’t heard from him since. I didn’t check to see if he was still out there in the lobby, the chance of missing Abria coming to consciousness too great to risk.
Doctors and nurses came and went.
Weariness crept over each of us, leaving its tiring effects in dark shadows under our eyes.
Matthias’ piercing blue gaze never dulled, his body never slumped, his comfort never waned. He was an energy force I drew from as the hours crawled by.
I envied his state of existence.
Frailty is part of being mortal, Zoe. How else can we learn to appreciate
good health and vitality unless we have sickness and death?