by Nancy Moser
Peace seemed very far away. But not as unreachable as it had been before. “I'll try.”
Susan hung up the phone from talking to Merry about the prayer chain that was sweeping Steadfast. Merry certainly had guts, starting it up in the Plentiful. But why not? Susan could visualize the prayers spreading across town, much like those Internet stories spread across the world in a matter of hours. One tells two tells four… What a glorious thing.
She did her part, calling Stella down in the ER to spread the word, then gathering the other nurses in ICU for their own prayer circle as the beeps of the machines kept rhythm.
As soon as the prayers were on their way to heaven, she knew the very next person she had to tell was Annie. Surely the news would buoy her and give her hope. Susan saw Dr. Hillerby coming out of Annie's room. “How's the patient, Doctor? I have great news for her.”
Dr. Hillerby took her aside and put a hand on her shoulder. His touch sent shivers down her spine. “I'm sorry, Susan. I know she's a good friend. But her vitals are weakening. The internal damage was extensive. We've done all we can. There's always a chance, but…but now it's up to her.”
And God. Susan put one hand on the baby kicking inside her and grabbed the sill of the window looking into Annie's intensive care room with the other. She looked at her friend, then back to the doctor. No, this can't be. The prayer chain… “Does she know? Does she realize?”
Dr. Hillerby shrugged. “Patients usually sense it.”
Annie turned her head in Susans direction. Their eyes met through the glass.
Susan offered a weak wave. “This can't be,” she whispered. “It can't! The prayers have just started. They'll work; I know they will.”
Dr. Hillerby patted her back. “I'm going to call Cal, get him and Avi back over here. Now's your chance to go in and see her.”
As a nurse this wasn't the first time Susan had witnessed death, but she suddenly felt like a rookie. “I don't know what to say.”
“Share your heart. And let her share hers.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I'd better make that call. Now.”
Time was that short?
He left her, and Susan wanted to run. Hide. Be anywhere but here. Tell me when its over. But she couldn't. What was happening next was not about her. It was about Annie. And as painful as it was going to be, she had to keep that focus.
Annie was still looking at her. Her fingers moved slightly, a come-here gesture.
Susan didn't have time for any more preparation. As she went to her friend's side, as she somehow found a smile, she prayed another, more desperate prayer: Father, heal her. Save her! Pleasey hear our prayers! Make us a miracle!
Twenty-three
Enter through the narrow gate.
For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction,
and many enter through it.
But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to lifey
and only a few find it.
MATTHEW 7:13-14
CAL RAN THROUGH THE HALLS of the hospital, dragging Avi behind him.
“Daddy! Slow down!”
He scooped her up and kept running. He had to get to Annie! He had to see her now!
He was out of breath when he reached Intensive Care. He stopped short outside Annies room. Susan was inside. And Dr. Hillerby, and two other nurses.
Oh no! Its too late!
Susan saw him and rushed toward them. She took his hand. And Avis.
Susan, no…no…
She was crying. But smiling, too. “That's right, Cal. No! She's not dead. Something happened, something wonderful. I was sitting with her and—”
“Daddy?”
He pushed past Susan, pulling Avi with him. The doctor looked up. He was grinning. The other nurses parted, giving him access to his wife.
She was awake. She was smiling. “Cal.” Her voice sounded stronger than last time. She looked at Avi. “Sweet-apple.”
Cal lunged for her hand, kissing it, pulling it to his chest. Avi slipped between him and the bed. She tentatively touched her mothers arm. “Mama? You okay?”
“I will be.” She glanced at the doctor. “I know I will be.”
They all looked to the doctor for confirmation. “We're not completely out of the woods, but her vitals are strong, suddenly strong even. If they stabilize… We'll be taking her in for some more tests.” He shook his head. “I called you in because…its a true miracle. I'd only be half a doctor if I didn't acknowledge what went on here.”
“It's the miracle of prayer,” Susan said.
The doctor put the chart away and spoke to Cal. “I'll give you a minute alone, but then we have to do those tests. And let our miracle lady rest.”
Everyone left Cal and Avi alone with Annie. He couldn't stop looking at her. There was a bit of color in her cheeks and a light in her eyes that hadn't been present before.
“Oh, Annie, I—”
“God did this, Cal.”
He nodded. “You're a strong—”
“No. I'm weak.” She put a hand on Avis head, stroking her hair. “I was on the verge of death, Cal. I felt it. And I could see it in Dr. Hillerby's eyes. Susan's eyes.”
Cal looked away. She was right. The doctor had called him, saying the end was near.
Avi looked up at her father. “Daddy, you said she was dying. You said we had to hurry. But she's not.”
Annie squeezed his hand. “I'm not.”
“I prayed, Mama. I prayed hard.”
“I know you did. I prayed, too.” She swallowed hard and grabbed a fresh breath. “I have to tell you what happened. Susan was in here, sitting with me. We were praying together. She told me the whole town was praying.”
Cal couldn't imagine.
“Even Bailey. Everyone was praying for me and Jered.”
Cal shook his head. “Not that kid. He doesn't deserve—”
“Yes, Cal. That kid does deserve—and need—our prayers.” She closed her eyes.
“Take it easy, hon. Don't tax—”
Her eyts opened. “Then let me say this. Let me get this out.”
He nodded.
“While Susan was sitting with me, while we were praying, I felt a warmth inside.” She waved a splayed hand an inch above her torso. “It flowed through me like blood through my veins. It seemed to strengthen me. And I felt better.” She touched the area of her wound and laughed softly. “I even checked to see if the wound was gone. But its still there.”
“But you're better, Mama.”
“I'm better. And God did it.” She locked her eyes on Cal. “He did it. Medicine had given up on me. God changed the logical outcome. That's what a miracle is. Admit it.”
Miracles didn't happen.
She squeezed his hand with more strength than he thought possible. Her voice was intense, enunciating every syllable. “Admit it.”
Susan came in. “We have to take you for those tests now, Annie.”
Cal kissed his wife, and they wheeled her away.
Merry hung up the phone, pumped a fist in the air, and shouted, “Praise the Lord!”
Blanche looked up from her station at the library's computers. “Goodness, Merry. Is there news?”
Merry hurried around the counter, searching out Harold and Ivan. A few other patrons looked at her expectantly. “That was Susan. Annie's going to be okay!”
They hugged each other, laughing and talking at once. Ivan grabbed Blanche and did a swirling two-step.
Merry quieted them. “But what makes it even more wonderful is how far she came. We didn't know this, but while we were praying Annie was on the verge of dying. The doctor had even called Cal and Avi to her bedside.”
“Oh my,” Blanche said.
Harold held a book of Greek tragedies by Euripides to his chest. “Annie on the edge of dying? You calling us to pray and getting the prayer chain going? The timing can't be a coincidence.”
Merry hadn't thought of that and remembered her sudden inclination to pray. To get
everyone to pray. She shivered and felt Harold's hand on her arm.
“Its a miracle, Merry.”
For Annie. And Steadfast.
Once Merry had dropped him off, Bailey didn't go home. Couldn't go home. He'd sat in his car stunned by all he'd seen at the Plentiful. Only after praying had he finally gained enough courage to enter the police station. He closed the door quietly behind him.
Ken looked up from his desk. “What do you want, Bailey?”
He moved close so the other officers wouldn't hear. “I'd like to see Jered. Please.”
“I don't think that's a good idea. You upset him.”
Bailey fingered the file tray on the desk. “I know. I'm sorry. I was wrong.”
Ken sat back in his chair and rocked, looking way too smug. “Well, well. I heard about the prayers at the Plentiful. It's hard to be cocky and pray—and accept prayer from others—isn't it, Bailey?”
Nearly impossible. The ringing of the phone saved him from having to admit that to Ken.
Ken answered it. “You're kidding! Bailey's here. I'll tell him.” He hung up. “Yes, indeed, amazing things happen when people pray. That was Merry. She just heard that Annie's going to be all right. She was literally snatched from the edge of death by what even the doctors are calling a miracle.”
Bailey's throat tightened. “That's great.”
“You bet it's great.” Ken cocked a thumb toward the cells. “Great for your son, too. It might be the answer to both prayers.”
All Bailey could do was nod. Thank You, God.
Ken stood and got out his keys. “You want to be the one to tell him?”
Me? Surely not me. But Bailey nodded and pulled in a breath, trying to find calm. He'd come to humble himself before his son, but now he would get the chance to share the greatest news with him. He didn't deserve it.
“You can use my office. I'll go get him.”
Officer Kendell came into view. “Visitor, Jered.”
Jered was lying on his bunk, his arm covering his eyes. He peeked beneath it. “Who is it?”
“Your dad.”
Jinko yelled from the next cell. “Aaaw, twice in one day, kid! He must really care about you.” His laugh was mean.
Jered covered his eyes again. “I'll pass.”
The cop unlocked the cell door. “Come on.”
“I said no—”
“Now!”
Surely they couldn't make him… He sat up. “Don't I have a choice?”
“No.”
Jered jumped down and filed out. Officer Kendell led him to his office. His dad stood by the window and changed his weight from left to right and back again, then raised a hand slightly in a wave. Jered had never seen him so nervous.
Jered took the guest chair. He didn't know where to look, what to say. And who knew what his dad would say? He braced himself for some cut.
Bailey took a step toward him. “Good news. Annie's going to be okay.”
It took a moment for that to sink in. He covered his face with his hands. Thank You! Thank You!
“Hey, it's okay, Jered. It'll be okay.”
Upon hearing the kind words—coming from his dad—Jered put his hands down.
His dad looked away, toward the window.
Suddenly, more than anything, Jered wanted his fathers eyes back on him. He wanted his full attention. He wanted him to say more “it will be okay” words. “I'm…I'm sorry, Dad. I know I've caused you a lot of pain and—”
Then a miracle happened. His dad shook his head and put a finger to his lips, stopping Jered's words. His eyes teared up. “I'm the one who's sorry. I haven't been a good dad. I've been self-centered, thinking about the business, not supporting your music. I…if only—”
Jered raised a hand. “Don't start with the if-onlys. We can't change things and God's forgiven us, so…” He realized it was the second time he'd mentioned God in his dad's presence. Bailey Manson didn't do God.
His dad looked at his hands. “People have been praying for you, Jered.”
“Who?”
“People all over Steadfast. Merry started it, at the Plentiful, no less. Then word spread. We were praying for you and for Annie and—”
“We?”
His father's eyes sought the safety of the window again. “I prayed, too.
Jered let a moment pass, gathering courage. “Why haven't we prayed before, Dad? Why didn't I grow up going to church?”
His head whipped around. “So I suppose that's my fault too, right?”
“It's not mine.”
His dad's shoulders dropped as if they'd sprung a leak and deflated. “Truth is, I never thought about it.” His eyes were pitiful. “And up until the last year or so, we'd done all right, hadn't we, Jered?”
“It was okay.”
“But?”
Jered wasn't comfortable with this conversation, yet felt compelled to continue. And tell the truth. “You and I did it alone, but what if we'd had God around? It would have been better, don't you think?”
His dad didn't answer.
Officer Kendell filled the doorway. “Times up, Jered.” He stood to leave, but his dad's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned around.
“Can I hug him?” his dad asked.
“Sure.”
Then suddenly, his dads arms were around him, and he was a little boy in need of a father again. And his dad hugged him tight, like he needed a son.
Both in need of the Father. Both in need of the Son.
Cal hoped his father would have a few moments of coherence on the phone. Just long enough for him to understand that Cal wasn't coming to visit for a few days.
“Cal? That you?”
“It's me, Dad. I just wanted—”
“I saw you on TV! I saw Annie. Is she going to be okay?”
“She's going to be fine, Dad.”
“I knew my prayers would work!”
“You've been—?”
“Whole group of us been praying. Annie being all right—it's God's doing, that's what it is. It's…”
He'd trailed off. Did his father set the phone down? “Dad?”
Suddenly, “Did you take my chainsaw? I've been looking for it all day, and I need it to clear the grove.”
Cal sighed. “I'll look for it, Dad. I'll see you in a few days.”
“You bring it with you, now. Don't forget.”
“I won't.” There was a lot he'd never forget.
“How do you like my new room?” Annie asked.
Cal settled into the chair beside her. The regular hospital room was a big improvement over the ICU she'd been in for the past week. “Where'd all these flowers come from?”
“People. There were so many I had Susan take some to other patients.” She adjusted her bed to a better angle in order to see him. “We need to talk.”
He took her hand, mindful of the IV. “We can talk later, Annie. We have all the time—”
“No!” She pulled her hand away.
He sat back. “Don't get riled, Annie-girl.”
She fingered her water sipper, calming herself. “If this experience taught us anything, Cal, its that we don't have all the time in the world. At any moment, with any decision, our lives can change forever.”
He retrieved her hand and kissed it. “I almost lost you. If only you'd let me go with Jinko.”
Finally. To the point she wanted to make. “I had to go, Cal. I had to be the one to risk my life.”
“That's ridiculous. As the man of the family—”
“This isn't about gender. Or even the position in a family. This is about eternity. This is about being with each other in heaven.”
“Don't talk about heaven. You're alive. You—”
“But don't you see? We have to talk about heaven. No, I'm not dead. God let me live. That truly is a miracle and a testament to the power of prayer. But someday we will die and…” Lord, give me Your words! Now, of all times, give me Your words.
But Cal jumped into her hesitation.
“I do not want to talk about death. Nor will I be treated like a child. Of course I know we're going to die.”
“But do you understand what happens next?”
“They have a funeral.”
If she were home, she'd probably walk out of the room right now to flee the frustration and the argument. But she couldn't flee. I have you right where I want you, Annie—where I need you. Tell him.
She began again and was relieved to hear her voice was steady. “Do you believe in heaven?”
“Sure. Angels. Halos. All that stuff.”
She didn't let herself get distracted from the main point. That would be for another time. “Do you believe in hell?”
He shrugged. “I guess I've never thought about it much.”
Ah, ignorance, the bane of the world. “Hell exists just as much as heaven does. After we die we go to one or the other. So choose. Now. Which will it be? Heaven or hell?”
“Annie, this is ridiculous.”
“Choose!”
“Fine. I choose heaven.”
Step one completed. “How do you get to heaven?”
“You die.”
“Cal, please. For me.”
“Okay, okay. You do good things. Good people go to heaven; bad people go to hell.”
“Wrong. Try again.”
“What do you mean, try again? I'm right. I know I'm right.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on it—your souls eternal life?”
He stood and went to the window. He fingered the bloom of a pink rose. “Annie, I don't want to get into all this Jesus-stufF. I really don't.”
Anger propelled her words. “Then it's a good thing I was the one who was shot. It's a good thing you didn't go, because you arent ready. You do need more time to rip off your blinders, pull your head out of the sand, and knock that girder off your shoulder.”
He rushed to her bedside. “Shh! You're going to get the nurses in here.”
At that moment Susan stepped into the room, grabbed the doorknob, and shut the door. But she was smiling, and she winked at Annie.
It was a conspiracy.
Annie took Cal's hands in hers. “Dear man that I love, I risked my life because I know that I'm going to heaven when I die, and I couldn't risk your eternal life by letting you face that danger. We each have a choice to make, Cal. Heaven or hell. You say you've chosen heaven. Fine. There is only one way to heaven. By accepting Jesus as your Savior.”