Christmas Miracles

by MacLean, Julianne

  * * *

  “It’s not fair,” I said to Mom when I came home from school that day and heard the news. “He’s my best friend.”

  “I know it’s difficult,” she replied, “but they’re not moving to the moon. Only to Boston. It’s less than an hour away.”

  “It’s not because of me, is it?” I asked. “Because you heard what Dr. James said—that he didn’t want me coming around anymore. Is this my fault? Am I the reason they’re moving?”

  “Of course not,” Mom replied with compassion, stroking my hair away from my forehead. “He was wrong to say that to you. He was just frightened and upset and he wanted someone to blame.”

  “It wasn’t even my idea to take our bikes to the hotel,” I said irritably. “It was Riley’s.”

  “I know.” She poured me a glass of milk and brought me a peanut butter cookie, which I ate in silence while she peeled carrots at the counter.

  “Will they come home before they move?” I asked. “Will we ever see them again?”

  “I’m not sure, honey,” she replied. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  * * *

  As it turned out, Mrs. James and her children never set foot in our neighborhood again. Mom nevertheless made an effort to keep in touch with Mrs. James, and I was allowed to talk to Riley and Leah on the phone a few times over the summer while they were staying with their grandparents in Arizona.

  Riley always asked if I would ever go back to the Clipper Lake Hotel. He wanted me to find out what was wedged up against the door of the fire exit. He said it still bothered him that we’d been locked inside. He confessed he was having nightmares about it.

  He asked if I was having nightmares, too.

  I said no—because I didn’t believe in ghosts. I explained to him that the light we saw move across the ceiling of the stairwell was the beam from the police officer’s flashlight. They had been walking around outside the hotel, shining lights along the windows.

  But the part about not believing in ghosts…?

  Well, maybe I did believe, because I’d woken up in a state of panic more than once that summer, drenched in sweat, my chest heaving when I thought there was some unearthly presence standing over my bed, watching me in the darkness.

  If there was a presence, was it there to protect me? Or lead me somewhere?

  * * *

  By the time September rolled around, an older couple without any children had moved into the big brick house on our cul-de-sac. Riley and Leah had moved to Boston to live in an even larger Victorian mansion their father had purchased for them while they were in Arizona. They were enrolled in an expensive private school which required them to wear uniforms and play instruments in the school band.

  Sadly, for the remainder of that year, we lost touch completely.

  I still managed to keep busy, however, by trying out for the basketball team and working a little harder at my studies. Mom organized more than the usual number of family events, and we even took a trip up to Six Flags the week before Thanksgiving.

  Before we knew it, it was time to start decorating for the holidays. I ventured into the season with an eagerness and impatience that confounded me because it was unmatched by any previous holiday season of my young life.

  Even then, as a boy of ten, I was puzzled by my anticipation, since I’d stopped believing in Santa Clause and there wasn’t really anything special I wanted under the tree.

  Nevertheless, each morning I woke with a quiet excitement that simmered in my body. With tremendous care, I peeled open another tiny window on my Advent calendar. At night, I stared at the calendar’s nativity scene with fascination until I drifted off to sleep.

  There were no more nightmares after that.

  When Christmas Day arrived at last, my brothers, sisters and I woke at dawn to giant white snowflakes floating buoyantly down from the sky. I remember feeling mesmerized and strangely euphoric as I watched them from my bedroom window.

  Later that morning—after we finished opening gifts and had stuffed ourselves with pancakes, bacon, and egg nog—my mother received an unexpected phone call.

  I don’t know how, but I knew it was something important. Something momentous. I could tell by the way she set her coffee cup down on the kitchen counter and turned quickly toward me.

  “It’s Mrs. James,” she said with an unsettling urgency. “She’s calling from Massachusetts General Hospital.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Despite the fact that it was Christmas morning and we were expected at my grandmother’s house for turkey dinner at 4:00, my mother hung up the phone and told me to get dressed.

  “Why?” I asked, feeling almost afraid to hope.

  “Because we’re driving into the city to see Riley and Leah.” Her whole face lit up with a smile. “And their new baby sister!”

  My eyes opened wide. “Really?”

  “Yes!” She moved closer to hug me. “Mrs. James had the baby at daybreak this morning and she’s doing very well. The kids are with her now and she said they miss you, especially today. They practically begged her to call us.”

  I missed them, too, because Riley, Leah and I had known each other since we were toddlers. We always got together every Christmas morning to play with our new toys.

  “When can we go?” I asked.

  “Right now,” she replied. “But we’ll need to leave soon if we’re going to make it back in time for dinner.”

  I immediately went to my room to get dressed.

  * * *

  Because it was Christmas, there was no traffic on the roads, which enabled us to reach the hospital in record time. According to my new stopwatch—a special gift from my grandmother—it took us exactly forty-three minutes to travel from door to door.

  “What a perfect Christmas Day,” Mom said as we got out of the car and looked up at the sky. Fat snowflakes had begun to fall again and everything in the city was covered in white. I felt like I was standing inside a snow globe.

  “I can’t wait to see Riley,” I said as I reached for the gift bag in the back seat. The gift, however, was not for him, but for the new baby. Since there were no stores open to purchase anything, I’d suggested that we re-wrap the soft green bunny I’d received from my aunt that morning.

  Not that I didn’t appreciate the gift. It was cute and cuddly with floppy ears, but weren’t bunnies meant for girls?

  My mom felt it would be a nice gesture, so I called my aunt and explained the circumstances. She agreed it was a nice idea.

  A short while later, we stepped off the elevator on the neo-natal floor and asked to see Mrs. James. Before the nurse had a chance to reply, I heard the familiar sound of Leah’s voice, calling to me.

  “Josh!”

  I turned, and there she stood at the end of the long corridor wearing a white sweater-dress that sparkled under the florescent hospital lights. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she’d sprouted a few inches. I was stunned by how grown up she appeared.

  How was it possible that this girl I’d known since I was in diapers could be so unrecognizable to me?

  She looked like an angel. I couldn’t seem to make my mouth work.

  Then she began to run the length of the corridor, and when she reached me, she threw her arms around my neck. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  “Me, too,” I managed to reply. “Merry Christmas.”

  She drew back and regarded me joyfully. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Hi, Mrs. Wallace. We’re glad you could come. My mom can’t wait to see you.” Leah backed away and beckoned to us with a hand. She seemed to move in slow motion. “Follow me. It’s this way, just at the end of the hall. Wait until you see the baby. She’s the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world. Josh, you’re going to love her.”

  Mom and I followed her into a private room where Mrs. James was sitting up on a bed, smiling. I’d never seen her look so happy.

  My mom immediately rushed to her side and hugged her. While they gushed
and cried over seeing each other again and talked animatedly about the labor and delivery, I spotted Riley, lounging at his ease against the window sill.

  “Hi,” I said with a casual wave of my hand.

  “Hi back,” he replied, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

  “How’s it going?”

  He shrugged. “All right I guess. How’s school?”

  “Same as always. Mr. Gillespie is still talking about bugs in bio class, and Joanie Carruthers is still chasing after Nick Saunders.”

  Looking bored, Riley slowly nodded, then turned his eyes toward the window again.

  I felt Leah touch my arm. “Want to hold the baby?” she asked.

  A shiver of elation moved through me as I turned to face her. There in her arms was her newborn baby sister, bundled up in white flannel. Leah regarded me with excitement.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, taking a clumsy step back.

  My mother quickly took notice of my unease. “Go ahead, Josh. There’s a chair behind you. You can hold her on your lap.”

  I glanced down at a sturdy oak rocker with a yellow flowered cushion. “All right.”

  Setting the gift bag on the floor, I sat down and held my arms out to Leah. Her green eyes held me entranced. There was something wise and all-knowing about the way she looked at me. I felt suddenly weightless, like those snowflakes floating in the air outside the window.

  Then slowly…carefully…she laid the sleeping infant in my arms.

  The baby was tightly swaddled and I found it surprisingly easy to cradle her. I shifted a bit to find a more comfortable position, then began to rock back and forth in the chair.

  “What’s her name?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Leah replied. “Mom was thinking about calling her Amy, but now that we’ve met her, we don’t think that’s the right name.” Leah pointed at the gift bag on the floor. “Is this for her?”

  I nodded.

  Leah turned to her mother. “Can we open it?”

  “Of course,” Mrs. James replied.

  Leah bent to pick it up and removed the pink tissue paper. “It’s a bunny,” she said, lifting the toy out of the bag. “Look, Mom.” She carried it to her mother so she could feel how soft it was, then she returned to my side. “She’s going to love it.”

  My eyes lifted to meet Leah’s, and my pulse slowed to a calm and steady pace. A deep feeling of peace settled over me, as if all was now right with the world.

  Leah smiled. I was immensely grateful to be with her again. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted to stay right there in that perfect place.

  Forever.

  “Open your eyes, Josh,” she whispered.

  My forehead crinkled in a frown. I didn’t understand why she would say that to me. What did she mean?

  “Can you hear me?”

  A light flashed, just like the flashlight beam across the ceiling in the hotel stairwell.

  Then the room began to spin.

  Awakening

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ravaged. That’s how I felt.

  Pain exploded through my central core and shot down the length of my left thigh. This was followed by a searing burst of panic that radiated outward from my heart.

  I could feel but I could not see. I was totally blind.

  Or maybe I was blind because I hadn’t yet resolved the issue of how to open my eyes.

  Open, damn you!

  My mind screamed the command, but my lids merely fluttered in response. My frustration mounted.

  A flash of light swept through the darkness.

  Fear and confusion gripped me.

  “Josh, can you hear me? I know you can do it. Wake up. Wake up.”

  I fought with all my might against the stubborn weight of my eyelids. Then at last they lifted, and I saw a hand in front of my face. It held a penlight. The light was sweeping back and forth. Everything was blurry.

  “That’s it,” the voice whispered with encouragement. “You can do it.”

  It was a woman.

  Leah…?

  No. That wasn’t possible.

  The penlight clicked off and the room became bathed in semi-darkness again as I watched that mysterious hand slip the little black device into the breast pocket of a white lab coat.

  “I’m right here, Josh,” she said. “You’re doing great.”

  I struggled to focus on what was in front of me…a pair of achingly familiar green eyes blinking down at me. Was I still dreaming? Or was this death?

  Every instinct in my body told me it was Leah, but the world was still a blur and I couldn’t let myself believe it. This had to be a lingering imprint from all those memories that had flashed through my mind.

  “Am I dead?” I asked.

  She smiled and laughed, but there were tears in her eyes. “No, but you came pretty darn close. Welcome back to the world of the living. Good decision, by the way.”

  She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “Leah?” I whispered, still unable to believe she was truly standing over me. How was this possible? Was I really alive?

  “You can see me?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe it either. “Can you hear me?”

  I managed a nod.

  “Then this has to be some kind of miracle,” she said.

  I blinked a few times, then glanced at the name tag on her lab coat. It said Dr. Leah James.

  “You work here?” I ground out.

  She nodded. “I’m a third year psychiatry resident. I shouldn’t really be in here with you. I’m supposed to be somewhere else right now, but when I saw them take you out of the ambulance…” Her voice quavered. “I couldn’t believe it was you and I had to stay with you. It’s been such a long time, Josh.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door. “There’s a nurse coming in now and the ICU doc should be right behind her. I really should go.”

  I couldn’t think straight. I felt frazzled and displaced.

  Then I remembered watching the details of my operation. My stomach was open… There was blood everywhere…a warm light and a tunnel that pulled me in…

  “Will you come back?” I asked.

  I wanted to tell her what had happened to me. Would she believe it? Would anyone believe it?

  Leah hesitated, then nodded. “I will, but right now they need to check you over. You did really well, Josh. You’re a survivor, I’ll give you that. I’m so glad you made it.”

  Just then, a nurse ran into the room. She flicked on the lights which startled me. Leah blew me a kiss as she backed away and discreetly passed by the nurse on her way out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “How long was I out?” I asked Dr. Crosby, who leaned over me to listen to my chest with a stethoscope. He was an older, heavyset man with white hair, bushy eyebrows and gold spectacles. He ignored my question as he focused on his task. After a moment, he tugged the ear buds out and looped the instrument around his neck.

  “You’ve been in a coma for five days,” he replied as he checked both my incisions, “so let me be the first to congratulate you on what has been an amazing recovery. You’re a real fighter, Josh. There’s no doubt about that.”

  I grimaced slightly and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Thank you.”

  “Any trouble catching your breath?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Chest pain? Pain in your calves?”

  “My thigh’s pretty sore.”

  He turned to the nurse. “Get him some Dilaudid. Two milligrams. Slow IV push.” He held a finger up in front of my face. “Now I want you to follow my finger with your eyes. Any double vision?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Now look at my nose.” He shone a penlight in both my eyes. “Very good.” Leaning back, he dropped the light into his pocket. “Squeeze my fingers as hard as you can. Excellent, Josh.” He told me to lift my good leg. “Now try to resist while I push down.”

  While he checked my reflexes, I asked, �
�What happened to me…exactly?”

  It was a pretty broad inquiry, considering all the questions I had about the past five days.

  He peered at me curiously over the rims of his spectacles. “Josh, do you remember anything about what occurred?”

  Feeling tired all of a sudden, I closed my eyes. “I know I was wounded while pursuing a suspect. He shot me in the stomach and the leg.”

  “Good,” the doctor said.

  I opened my eyes and turned my head on the pillow. “Did you just say ‘good’?”

  He chuckled. “I meant it’s good that you remember what happened. And do you know where you are? What city?”

  “I’m in the hospital, and this is Boston.” I took a few seconds to draw in a breath. “Is my partner okay? What about the woman in the van? Do you know anything about that?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Dr. Crosby said. “But I’m sure your colleagues will be in to see you in the morning. Your family’s been here constantly. Tonight was the first night none of them stayed, only because the nurses badgered them to go home and get some rest.” He consulted the clipboard and flipped one of the pages over the back. “Oh, and your girlfriend was here as well.”

  My pulse hammered against the inside of my veins. “Girlfriend?”

  “Yes. Blond hair. Nice smile. She had a daughter with her…”

  “Carla?”

  He wrote something down on the chart. “I’m not sure what her name was. You’d know better than I would.”

  I swallowed uneasily and wondered if Carla had changed her mind about us. Maybe the thought of losing me—really losing me—had caused her to rethink her decision. Or did she just feel guilty?

  Dr. Crosby circled around the bed and checked something on one of the monitors. While he was doing that, the nurse returned and administered what I assumed to be pain medication. I immediately relaxed as it flowed through my system.