by Lauren Wynn
First call, I’m anxious. I sure hope I don’t screw this up. I take a moment, lean against the metal handrail that is firmly attached to the wall, bow my head, and ask for His hand to guide me. I take a deep breath and whisper to myself, “Take me to her.”
In my golden glow, I appear in the little girl’s room. It’s bright with the light from a large window because it’s just before sundown. Summer, the little girl, is pale, thin, thirteen years old, with thinning blond hair falling out from under her pale-pink winter hat. She lies, partially upright, in the hospital bed under crisp, pure-white sheets. Summer was diagnosed with leukemia several months ago and has been undergoing chemotherapy.
Her mother bustles into the room, talking a mile a minute about filling out documents, papers, and the report the doctor just gave her. She quickly mentions something about what she’s going to cook for dinner, and then finally looks at her daughter.
“Hi, sweetie, how are you feeling?”
“A little better now. I think the worst has passed for this treatment. The nurse opened the curtains for me so I could see outside. I always feel better with a little sunshine.”
My eyes droop with sadness, but the strength and optimism Summer exudes is enough to cause a slight lift. Grant and Leo mentioned feeling their callers’ pain. Now I know what they were referring to, except, with Summer, it isn’t solely the nausea and light-headedness that the chemo caused; it’s loneliness and a deep longing to be held, combined with a bottomless pit of sorrow for the pain she is causing her mother. She knows it’s not her fault, but she can’t help but think her mother would be better off with a healthy daughter whose mother only needs to worry about getting her to dance practice, not who’s going to pay the medical bills and make dinner for the rest of the family while still trying to find time to work and visit the hospital.
I can feel the hollowness in the pit of her stomach, the ache in her head, and her desire to reach out and grab her mother’s hand, just to feel the tiniest bit of warmth and reassurance.
“I’m going to ask the nurse where your dinner is. Be right back…”
“But I’m not that hungry, mama.” Summer thinks ugh, and she’s back to business. She rolls her sky blue eyes.
“You need to eat, get your strength up.” The mother’s lips curl up on the side, showing a hint of optimism.
“I know, I know. Maybe lime jelly tonight, you think?” Summer says with a thin smile.
Her mother returns the smile, nods, and hurries out the door.
Not a bad day: Mom came, I only threw up four times. I got to see the sun from my window, and now lime jelly. Thank you, God. It could have been worse, Summer thinks, twiddling her thumbs. She then tugs up and down on her pink hat, scratching her forehead.
“I know you’re here,” she whispers. “I can’t see you, but I know you’re here. I’m not ready to go yet. I’m actually feeling much better, so you may want to tell Him that He’s made a mistake. Okay, well…so, He probably doesn’t make mistakes, but I assure you, I feel great.” She holds back a cough.
I smile. He doesn’t make mistakes, but I also know I’m not here to take her. I’m here to comfort her.
My feet slowly slide across the white tile toward the bed. I place my hand on her shoulder and radiate my internal light through my body, down my arm, to her shoulder, slowly filling her body with warmth.
Summer closes her eyes and slowly exhales, letting out a slow, quiet sigh.
Her mother walks back into the room. “Good news. Dinner’s on the way—lime jelly too. Nurse Aci loves you, and she pulled a couple strings. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be able to get here earlier tomorrow since I get off at two. If all goes well with your test tomorrow morning, Doc says you’ll get to come home Friday.” A wide smile crosses her face as she raises her hands in the air in a cheer.
“Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’ll be fine. They take good care of me here.” Summer hesitates. “Maybe tomorrow, you can cuddle up with me and watch Gilmore Girls just like old times.” Summer beams, hopeful that her mom will agree.
She’s strong, this tiny little girl, and amusing. She crosses her finger under her covers as if that will help her chances of gaining her mother’s agreement.
“Baby, I would love to. Just like old times.” She smiles, but her eyes droop with sadness. “I’ll even bring your pink afghan to curl up with. How’s that sound?”
“I love you, Mama. I just want you to be happy, you know, like really happy. I’m going to be okay…” Summer pauses, stares straight ahead, and thinks, at least I think I am, although there was that angel here earlier; maybe I’m mistaken. God knows best, right? Surely he didn’t ask someone to take me now.
Her mother kisses her on the forehead and squeezes her shoulder, the same shoulder I just placed my hand on.
“I love you, baby.” She blows her a kiss, waves, and walks out the door.
I follow her down the long, bright, white hallway to the elevator. Before her elevator arrives, I slip into the stairwell making a quick transition. I walk out of the stairwell and stand next to her as she waits for the doors to open. She gives me a glance over her shoulder. Alone in the elevator, I see her reflection in the shiny metal doors. She looks at the ground, shoves papers into her bag, and curses at them under her breath. A tear rolls down her cheek. She takes a deep breath, sniffles, and wipes her eyes. I know it’s not customary—she isn’t my caller so I’m limited in my ability to influence her—but I step to her side and place my palm on her back just below her neckline.
“I’m sorry,” she cries. “Oh goodness, I’m blubbering. Please don’t mind me,” she whimpers.
“Nothing quite prepares you for an ill child,” I respond, unsure of what to say.
“That’s an understatement,” she says matter-of-factly. “I spend so much time trying to be strong for my daughter and everyone else. Then every time I set foot in this elevator or am alone in my car, I start bawling. I should have warned you.” She laughs unnaturally.
“Don’t stop on my account. You don’t need to be strong for me. I’m certain your daughter appreciates every moment you spend with her.”
She tilts her head up at me, glossy-eyed. “I need more moments.” She sighs and a tear slides down her cheek.
“You’ll get them.” I say confidently with a wink as the elevator doors part.
A slow smile forms on her face, making her blotchy cheeks rise. “Thank you.”
My second call of the day takes me to the dark bedroom of a girl named Providence. She sits in the corner, knees held tightly to her chest, leaning back against the dark red wall. She’s wearing purple- and white-striped, flannel, pajama pants that are a size too big and a dark-gray sweatshirt with the neck cut out, causing it to slump down her arm, revealing her bare, tanned shoulder. She bows her head and clasps her hands together. I just watch and listen; no need to make my presence known yet.
In a very low voice, nearly inaudible, she whispers, “Lord, please help me get through this evening. He’s on a binge again. Maybe if I just stay in my room, quiet, he’ll leave me alone. God, please just help me; surely you have more for me than this.” Her hands fall into her lap and she closes her eyes in defeat.
Her cell phone begins beeping. She jumps up off the floor, races across the room, fumbling to pick it up off her bedside table. “Oh snap! What did I just say? Keep quiet! It’s okay. Stay calm, find the silent. Where’s the silent? Crap! Listen. Okay, no footsteps. Phew! It’s Lily. Shoot! Gotta get to the silent quick. She’s a total machine-gun texter.” The right side of her mouth curls up in a slight grin as she fumbles with her thumbs for the right keys. She slides down on the floor, leaning against her daybed.
I can’t help but smile as she whispers to herself. Moments ago her prayer was serious and sincere, and despite the distraction, her deep hazel eyes still convey hope.
She carries on in thought, holy smokes, see one of three texts already. Dang, Lils!
Text one: Hey hot
chica, wanna go on a hottie search?
Text two: Seriously, babe, Tuesday night is the new Friday night. haven’t you heard? What do ya say?
Text three: Pretty please, Prov, are you there? don’t ignore me. Taylor’s at night school. you’re my only hope for a hottie fix.
Ugh, rats…I can’t go tonight. If I leave this room, he’ll see me for sure. Plus I have opening shift at the ’Bucks tomorrow. The folks like their morning joe with a smile, which is not likely to happen if I leave this room. I’ll text her back…
I stand over her shoulder reading her reply.
Sorry babe, no can do tonight. Dad’s in a mood again, plus I have early shift in the am. Raincheck?
A moment later the screen lights up again with a picture of a yellow envelope.
Wow, that was a quick response, Miss Speedy Fingers…
The reply reads: Fine, tomorrow night then. I’ll come by tomorrow before work for my morning cup. P.S. you better be using nonfat milk or you are sooo running with me tomorrow night. Luv ya. Nite.
She laughs. She’s funny… Providence thinks while replying. Nite Nite, Lil! I swear only nonfat. Oh.. and I won’t mention the cup of sugar you add. Luv u 2, babe.
She peers up from her phone with a light-hearted expression, the glow of the phone screen still shining on her face.
I look down at myself, just to be sure: Yep, still golden. I know she can’t see or hear me, so I give a little laugh. She’s funny, and this Lil is a quite a character too. I look at her intently and notice her amazing smile. It lights up her whole face, her rosy cheeks, the golden flecks surrounding her pupils sparkling in her otherwise green eyes, and a small glimpse of her pearly-white teeth peek through her full, red lips.
Okay, back to my prayer, she thinks, lowering her head again, and she continues in a low whisper, “God, if you could just give me some direction, a sign, something, I will follow. I promise.” She pauses for awhile. “Oh, and thanks for my friends. Not sure where I’d be without Taylor and Lily.” She swallows loudly.
Her bare shoulder is thin in my grasp. I begin to radiate my internal light to send her a little hope, though she can’t physically feel my hand. I sense a pit of emptiness swell in my gut, heartbreak pulses in my chest, my hands begin to shake (along with hers), and a lump builds in my throat as she holds back her cry. Somewhere in the middle of all that, there is a flicker of anticipation in her soul, at the core of her very being, promising her it will get better.
She looks up and a small tear slides down her cheek as she whispers, “Thanks, I know you have a plan for me.”
She eyes the light shining in from the hallway under her bedroom door. Then she twists and crawls up into bed, still emitting a tinge of the golden afterglow I poured into her, and drags the covers completely over her, curling up into a ball, rubbing her feet together for warmth.
****
The cloud cover lies low this morning. It’s well before dawn, but Grant summons us to the park. He glances at Leo and me through the dark misty morning. There is a twinkle in his eye as he peers up toward the sky.
“Conditions are ideal this morning for spreading our wings.” He laughs playfully.
A grin makes its way across Leo’s face, turning up his cheeks with an almost mischievous air. He elbows me in the side. “You can be my wingman.”
“We don’t get as much flying time as we’d like, so I thought today would be a good opportunity.”
“You’re kidding, right. We can do this?” I question optimistically.
“This is the best time. With no one around at this hour, we can make our way up above the cloud cover unnoticed. As long as we stay above that, we’re cool.”
“The wind in your face, weightless, it’s a different world up there. It’s a rush, man.” Leo closes his eyes, unfurls his wings, and takes to the air.
Grant tilts his head slightly toward me. “You’re up. Make the most of it, man. This is a rare occasion.”
I sigh in relief as I expand my wings. It has been awhile. Ah! I glance over my shoulder as if to make sure they are still there. They are, in all their splendor, glistening, pure white. The highest point measures a head taller than I am, spanning wide enough for them to wrap around me twice.
I make my ascent above the cloud layer with Grant as my right flanker. Leo makes a sharp climb before swooping down to my other side. The three of us stay in formation like a flock of geese making their way south for the winter. No words needed to communicate our next moves; we can sense each other’s presence veering left and right, soaring like a single unit. There is a sense of freedom and peace as I watch the sun peek up over the clouded horizon. It reminds me of my quiet place back home, my real home.
We remain silent for a time before we talk about my first day of earth duty. The conversation doesn’t last long, though. It’s too easy to get caught up in the tranquility of the open sky. As the sun begins to warm our faces, we decide to turn back and make our descent, back to our world without wings. The sun is now shining brighter through the clouds than expected, so we soar downriver before landing on a secluded bank. I shake to reorient myself with the hard ground and push my messy light-brown hair out of my eyes. I’m feeling rejuvenated just in time for a page by the familiar voice of my second caller.
At the top of the wooded hill I stand and watch Providence walk to work. I move to follow along behind her, taking one last glimpse of my golden glow as it streaks behind me and fades.
She prays silently. “Thank you for keeping me safe last night. You know as well as I do that those kinds of nights can get pretty hairy. Oh…um—and this is a stupid one, but if I can’t talk to you, who can I talk to?—so…here goes…please let me be available to take Chance’s order if he comes in this morning. Phew! Told ya it was stupid. I don’t mean it any less, though.” The right side of her lip curls up at the thought of seeing Chance.
Her voice is raspy this morning, partially due to the early hour, partially due to crying last night. I watch her walk, all bundled up in a long, black, puffy coat wearing a white winter hat with a fluffy white ball on top. Her dark brown, walnut hair flows out from underneath, blowing slightly in the wind, as she makes her way down the hill before turning right into the parking lot of the Starbucks where she works.
My mind launches into a thought about the drink they call “coffee” and I wonder what all the hype is about. And even though I don’t drink, I may have to try it someday.
I’m brought back to reality by the sweet sound of Summer’s little voice.
Fortunately, I changed clothes earlier. Today, I plan to meet Summer in person. I need to let her know I haven’t come to take her away. For whatever reason, it felt appropriate to portray myself as a clergyman, a man of God rather than one of His angels. So, I suited up in a pair of black slacks with a black clergy-collared shirt, black belt, and black leather slip-on shoes. I hope all this black doesn’t freak her out. When I looked in the mirror, I appeared to fit the part. Maybe I should cross my fingers just as she did yesterday.
When I arrive at the hospital, they are prepping her for her test. I watch as the last nurse leaves the room and I use that as my opportunity to stroll over and knock on the door.
“Come in!” Her little voice quivers with nervousness. “Oh, I thought you were Malcolm coming to take me downstairs.”
She’s sitting in her wheelchair, wearing the same pink hat from the day before along with the typical hospital gown.
“Nope, just overheard the nurse say you were going for tests, so I thought I’d come wish you luck beforehand.” I put my palms together and bow my head toward her. “So…good luck!”
She squints her eyes tightly, glares at me from head to toe, and stutters, “Thhhaanks!”
I’m confused by the expression, but walk over to shake her hand anyway. I hold her hand in mine and clear my throat, about to speak when—
“It was you!” she softly exclaims.
“Excuse me?” I clear my throat again, raising my
eyebrows.
“You were here yesterday. I knew it. I felt you. Did you tell Him I’m not ready to leave yet? I think he means another Summer. I’m sure there is another here in the hospital, maybe down the hall…”
Time to come clean. I interrupt her. “Yes, Summer, I was. It was me.” She opens her mouth to speak again, but I throw up my pointer finger as if to say “give me a second to explain.” “I came here to comfort you and to calm your mother. Yesterday when you were praying, He sent me to be with you, not take you.”
Summer lets out a sigh of relief. Her heart still beats rapidly, but she doesn’t have the same stomach butterflies she did when I first held her hand.
Malcolm knocks on the door to wheel her down. He is a very tall, wide-shouldered, strong black man. He smiles and lowers his hand to give her a high five. Her tiny pale fingers barely cover his palm. It’s apparent this is routine for them.
She looks up at me with a smile, “Will you be here when I come back? I mean, if you’re not busy? My mom doesn’t come for another couple hours.” She breathes heavily and stutters, “If-if… you’re not busy.”
“Well…I hear there is another Summer down the hall.” I wink and give her a smile. “I’ll be right here when you come back,” I say confidently.
She smiles, balls her hand into a fist, and pulls her arm quickly down toward her side and says, “Yes!” under her breath.
“Let’s do this, Malcolm. I’ve got things to do today.” She waves as Malcolm rolls her out of the room.
“Back so soon?” I say, putting down a sports magazine I had grabbed from the waiting room an hour ago.
She displays an exhausted smile and nods.