by Sheila Walsh
Keith’s gurney was being rushed from the room, and suddenly Tammy was standing directly in front of her. “Meet us at the hospital, okay? And call Ethan, let him know what’s going on. He’ll alert the prayer chain.”
Ann nodded numbly. “Sure. Right.” Then she watched them all disappear. A blast of sirens and a few flashes of light later, she was alone.
Somehow she managed to stand up and stumble back to her car, where she yanked the cell phone from her purse. She pressed Ethan’s name in her contacts list and hit Send. It rang and rang and rang, then finally clicked over to voice mail. “Ethan, it’s me.” What was she supposed to say? There were too many things, much too many. “Keith’s being rushed to the hospital, I don’t know what happened, but he was fighting to breathe. Come as soon as you can. Okay?” It was all she could manage. She pushed the button to disconnect the call and started the car. She was halfway down the driveway when she realized she didn’t know which hospital.
The smart thing to do would be to go back to the house and make some calls, but Ann was well past the point of acting with any intelligence. She drove toward the Medical University Hospital, supposing that would be the most logical place to take a child. Unfortunately, it was rush hour, and according to radio traffic reports, there was a stalled car and an accident somewhere ahead of her. Traffic was backed up almost to a standstill.
It was an hour later when she ran into the main lobby, found a volunteer to help her, and made her way to the waiting area of the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. The waiting room had yellow and white walls and chairs in a few cheerful colors. Several people were inside, some talking in groups, one couple standing in the far corner looking worried, but no sign of Tammy. Ann approached the desk where a woman sat, hair stacked high on her head, smile lines etched around her eyes. “May I help you?” she asked before Ann had fully made it to the desk. Ann supposed that in a place like this, she had learned to respond quickly to the urgency most people felt.
“Yes, I think Keith Litton was just brought here. Can you tell me anything?”
The woman looked at some papers on a clipboard in front of her. “And you are?”
Why should she care? “I’m his neigh—” For some reason Ann stopped before completing the sentence and changed course. “My name is Ann Fletcher.”
She nodded. “Yes, I see your name right here on the family list. They’ve just brought him up. Follow me.” Tammy had put Ann’s name on the family list. Why should things like this continue to surprise her? Ann had no answer as she followed the woman through the double doors.
The PICU was one giant room, with perhaps a dozen alcoves that formed rooms. Ann could see Tammy leaning over a bed in one of the closest rooms. When Tammy looked up and saw her, she extended her left arm to Ann while she continued to hold Keith’s hand with her right.
Ann put her arms around Tammy and squeezed. “What happened?” She looked at Keith’s face, paler than she’d yet seen it. His eyes were closed. Oxygen tubes, IV lines, and more gadgets than she cared to think about were attached to his little body, and a bank of monitors blinked in the background. It was a stupid question, but asking “How bad is it?” didn’t seem appropriate.
At first, Tammy just shook her head no. She took a moment, blinking hard and breathing deeply, then answered, “He was born with a heart problem . . .” She brushed her hand across his forehead. “And fluid sometimes backs into his lungs, which makes it hard to breathe, which makes it hard on his heart. It’s a vicious cycle. We’ve always known that at any time . . .” She put her hand over her mouth, as if trying to hold the sorrow inside. After another minute she said, “His poor little heart just can’t keep up with all that love he’s got inside anymore.”
Ann thought about the truth of that statement. Keith loved more purely, and with more strength, than most people ever would, yet he was so often rejected and misunderstood. Still, none of it made sense to Ann. Why should he be the one to die when there were people like terrorists, and murderers, and that slimeball Patrick Stinson alive? Or when there were people so much less deserving of life—like herself?
Ann put her hand on Keith’s arm. “You hang in there and fight, buddy. I need you.”
The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch. Likely Ann had imagined it, because it’s what she wanted to believe, but she still waited for a sign of recognition, of any evidence of improvement. Anything at all that could give her hope.
They sat in silence at his bedside for hours. The nurses came and went, hanging IV bags, drawing blood, doing whatever it was they were doing. Tammy and Ann simply stood on opposite sides of the bed, each holding one of Keith’s hands. Tammy’s lips moved silently almost the entire time, and Ann knew that she was praying. Maybe it was time for Ann to give that another try.
God, I know we’re not exactly friends, yet, but I have to admit that there is something going on around here that seems to have to do with Your angels. If You really are here, if You really do exist and send Your angels down to watch after us, won’t You please send an angel to help Keith?
She found herself straining to listen, and it occurred to her that she was actually listening for music. The song. For the first time, she found herself wanting to hear the song. More than wanting . . . she needed to hear it.
Silence.
The nurse came over and injected something into one of Keith’s IV lines. She looked up at Tammy. “He’s stabilized for now, if you want to go grab a bite to eat.”
Tammy shook her head, then looked at Ann. “You should get something, though.”
Ann hadn’t even thought of food. “Not hungry. But why don’t I run to your house and get some things for you? I’m guessing you’re going to be here for a few days. You want some toiletries and a change of clothes?”
“Sure. That would be nice.” Tammy continued to hold Keith’s hand, hardly even seeming to notice that she was speaking.
Reluctantly, Ann stood. She squeezed Keith’s hand. “I’ll be back. You take care of your mama while I’m gone.” She walked out the double doors of the unit and glanced toward the waiting area.
Bent over in a chair, blond hair hanging over his forehead and eyes, elbows resting on knees—there was no mistaking the presence of Ethan. She went over and touched him on the shoulder. “How long have you been here?”
He looked up. “I don’t know, a couple of hours. Since right after I got your message.”
“Family is allowed back there, you know. You could go on back. I’m sure Tammy put your name on the list.”
“She did. It’s just that only two people are allowed at a time.”
“What?” Ann gasped out the word. “You’ve been waiting out here because I was in your place this whole time? Oh, Ethan, I’d give anything if I’d known. I would have come out.”
“I know you would’ve. That’s why I didn’t send word that I was here. It’s just as much your place as it is mine. Keith has such a special love for you. So does Tammy. It was right for you to be back there.”
Once again, Ann was overwhelmed with the love she felt she didn’t deserve. “Well, I’m going to the house to get some things for Tammy, so go spend some time with your best quarterback.”
He nodded. “I want to let Tammy know that the prayer chain has been activated. People all across Charleston are praying for Keith right now.”
Ann nodded. “I hope it helps.” She meant those words more than she’d ever meant them before in her life.
Chapter 38
The pale outline of the For Sale sign in her yard reminded her that there’d been an open house today, something that had seemed so important just a few hours ago.
Ann walked into the house, flipped on a couple of lights, and realized that this place might not be hers for much longer. Not the wood floors she’d spent so much time refinishing; not the rooms where Nana, Sarah, and she had spent so many years together; not the home that her mother had made the final decision to leave forever. This house had never been filled with t
he finer things. But it had been filled with love. Nana’s love. Sarah’s love. Ann had spent so much time grieving the loss of her mother’s love, though, that she’d never learned to appreciate what was here.
Wasn’t she doing the same thing now? With Tammy? And Keith? And Ethan?
Well, she couldn’t do anything about that. With no job, and no prospect of a job, she had to sell; there was no other choice.
Eleanor’s voice came back to her, “There’s always a choice.”
“Not in this case, Eleanor. Not in this case.” She whispered the words, then shook her head to clear her thoughts. Time to go to Tammy’s house and get her things.
When she arrived back at the hospital, she went straight to the PICU waiting room. The woman at the desk recognized her. “Your brother asked me to let him know as soon as you arrived. Just one minute, please.”
Ann nodded. Her brother. Since it was immediate family only in the PICU, Tammy had listed both Ethan and Ann as her siblings. “Great. Thanks.”
A moment later Ethan followed the woman out of the double doors and walked over to Ann. She extended the duffel bag in her hand. “Here are some things for Tammy.”
He didn’t reach out to take them. “Don’t you want to take them yourself?”
Ann shook her head and stepped closer to him, taking care to keep her voice quiet in the waiting room. “You’re always giving up things for me. You left your own house unfinished so you could help me fix up Sarah’s. You sat out here all afternoon because I was in your rightful spot.”
He put his hand under her chin and lifted it so she had to face him. When she met his eyes, he said, “I don’t have a single regret.”
“Wish I could say the same . . . Ethan, I’m sorry I—”
“Shh.” He lowered his face right in front of hers. “You go in there, spend some time with Tammy and Keith. We’ll work out everything else when Keith gets better. Okay?”
Ann nodded. “Okay.”
“Take all the time you need.”
Tammy’s head was leaned against the chair back, her eyes closed. Ann wasn’t sure if she was asleep or praying, but she tiptoed just in case. She put her hand on Keith’s. His face was bluish, but his breathing seemed more relaxed. God, if You’re there, help him. It was all she could think to pray.
“How long have you been here?” Tammy stretched her arms, then leaned forward toward her son’s bed.
“Just got here. How’s he doing?”
“The doctors say it’s still touch and go.”
Keith gasped loudly, then wheezed a couple of labored breaths. Tammy began to whisper prayers that Ann couldn’t quite make out. But she understood clearly because another sound began to fill the space.
She actually felt it before she heard it. A warmth enveloped her entire body. When the music began, it almost seemed to be inside of her, permeating her whole being; then it spilled into the room, faint at first, but growing louder by the second. The harmony was multilayered, and this time it wasn’t just instrumental. She heard distinct singing and more than one song. The melody of each song complemented the other, and each voice could be heard distinctly while blending with the others. The sound was beautiful, unearthly . . . pure. Keith started thrashing about in the bed. He was gasping for air, his lungs making a strange wheezing sound as he struggled against the sheets.
The song gained in volume until it overpowered all other sounds. Ann reached across the bed with her free hand and squeezed Tammy’s. “He’s not afraid. They’re here now.”
Tammy looked at her, a panicked expression on her face. “What do you mean?” She looked back toward Keith. “Who’s here?”
“Listen.” Ann looked at Tammy, waiting for the reality to set in.
Tammy simply stared blankly. “What? What do you hear?”
“Tammy, the music. Can’t you hear it?” It had grown louder, and chills ran up and down Ann’s body from the sheer beauty of it. The voices shimmered with a perfection no human could possibly attain. “The angels are here. They’re here with Keith.”
“I don’t hear anything.” Tammy’s eyes spilled over with tears. “I don’t hear anything. Why can’t I hear it?” Keith continued to wheeze, but his thrashing calmed. He wiggled his fingers as if stroking a beloved pet.
“He’s all right now. They’re here with him so he won’t be afraid.”
Keith made a gurgling sound. Tammy put her hand over her mouth and took deep breaths mixed with sobs. “Are they still singing?”
The song began to fade. Keith wheezed loudly; then he went silent as note by note the music disappeared.
Keith opened his eyes, smiled weakly at his mother, then closed them again. He squeezed Ann’s hand.
It was then that Ann fully realized the incredible gift that God had given her in allowing her to hear what most humans—with the exception of her dying sister, and the most incredible person in the form of a Down syndrome preteen—could not hear. The song of His angels. The song of those in His presence, even when no one else in the room hears it, feels it, or even knows it. He is here. Now. Always.
Chapter 39
“Help. Annie. Please. Help. Annie. Please. Help. Annie. Please.”
Ann jerked awake, the memory of Sarah and her last words repeating over and over in her mind. She would never know what it was that Sarah had wanted from her, never know how it was she could help her sister.
She lay back against the arm of the sofa, her heart torn by her inability to help Sarah in her last request. The words still tumbled in her mind; she could still see Sarah’s face, the expression of peace as she looked over her shoulder. “Help. Annie. Please.”
Looking over her shoulder.
Her expression of peace.
Ann jumped to her feet. Sarah had been listening to the angel song. She had been feeling that wonderful, soothing warmth. She hadn’t been asking for Ann’s help; she’d been asking for God to help Ann. Help for Ann.
That’s what this had all been about. Sarah had asked the angel to help Ann. That’s why Ann had been able to hear the song, why there had been so many coincidences. God had been honoring Sarah’s last request. The sheer magnitude of it took her breath away. She rushed into her room and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. There was something she needed to do.
She walked out the front door, half expecting to see Eleanor jogging by in the early morning light. Instead, she saw Ethan’s truck parked in Tammy’s driveway, and then saw him pulling the lawn mower from Tammy’s garage.
Ann knew he was getting the lawn ready for Keith’s expected release from the hospital tomorrow. She waved a greeting but continued moving toward her goal.
He came running over to her. “Hey, what’s up?”
Ann walked to the For Sale sign and began pulling it up. “You know what? I’m tired of putting on a brave front. I’m tired of hiding from the past. It’s time for a new start. In a new—yet old—place. I think it’s time I started believing in something.”
She stopped pulling and looked at Ethan. “God has been trying to get my attention for a long time, and . . . well, now, let’s just say that I know He’s there. I told you once that I didn’t know how to believe, but you know what? I was wrong.”
“Really?” Ethan searched her face for a long second, then nodded. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“I thought you would be.” She pulled at the sign again, but it still didn’t budge. She grunted and said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. It’s not like I can afford not to sell this place; I’ve got to pay rent back in New York.”
“That’s where faith comes in. You trust that Someone bigger than you can handle it, and you learn that it’s okay to accept help every now and then instead of always giving it.”
Ethan reached over and gave the sign two good yanks. It came free from the ground and swung loose in his arms. “What do you want me to do with this?”
“I’m going to call Eleanor Light and tell her to come get it. I won’t be needing it anymore.
” Somewhere deep inside she knew that Eleanor’s job was done.
Ethan smiled. He leaned over and put the sign on the ground. Then he stood and pulled Ann into his arms. “Welcome home.”
“Home,” she said. “Tell me more about that.”
Ethan looked down at her. “I’ve got lots to say on that subject.”
Ann twined her arms around his neck. “Like what, for instance?”
“Hmm, let me see if I can think of something.” He leaned forward and brought his lips to hers.
“Don’t ever let me go,” she whispered against his cheek.
“I don’t plan to, my sweet Ann.”
“Call me Annie.” She reached up and kissed him again.
Chapter 40
“Hey, Keith, I’ve got a question about one of your drawings.” Annie turned from the box she was unpacking and walked over to her sofa where Keith was resting. She was glad to see the color returning to his face.
“Okay.”
Annie held up the drawing of the flattened letter m, the angel, and the cylinder. “What is this one?”
He smiled. “That’s a garbage can.” Keith pointed at the cylinder. “And that’s a bird, and that’s the angel. His name is Uriel. He watches out for you.”
“Why am I handing a bird to an angel?” Then Annie felt her mouth go dry. “Did you say Uriel? As in Uri—the homeless guy?” She remembered the night she’d handed him the food from her dinner with Patrick Stinson. Her leftovers, wrapped in foil, shaped like a swan.
Keith smiled.
Annie remembered the Bible verse she’d learned from the other homeless man, the one with dreadlocks. She hadn’t believed him. She wouldn’t believe him. But now . . .
“You know, Keith, I think you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Me and Ethan, we’re always right. Right, Ethan?”