“That’s right. You haven’t been born yet.”
Kieran walked forward in a trancelike daze. “Mom. Oh, Mom, you were so beautiful.” After a moment, he lifts his arm to wipe his face on his sleeve and I realize that he’s crying. “I miss you so much. I never got to see you like this.”
I want to give him some private time with his thoughts, but I must use this scene to bring him to an understanding. I step forward and place my hand on Kieran’s back. We stand there silently, watching his mother drag her paintbrush up and down along the wall.
“What do you mean by saying you never saw her like this?” I ask him softly.
Kieran swallows. “She had a stroke while giving birth to me. She lost the ability to speak along with most of her motor functions. I remember going with her to all kinds of therapy—my dad sought all the best doctors in the country, but she was never the same. We spent most of the family’s money on hospital bills, and eventually my mom died. I was ten.”
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him.
“My dad and my sister blamed me for her stroke,” he says, “and later they blamed me for her death. They never said it outright, but they both hated me. They felt that my life was only made possible at the cost of my mother’s.”
“All life comes with a price.” My heart is breaking for the young boy that he was—I can see that this is the sort of thing from which he could never recover.
“I never heard her voice like this,” Kieran says as he stares up at the woman on the ladder. “When I was a kid she was shrunken and her face was twisted. She didn’t look so alive. I’ve never heard her laugh. This is the best thing I could possibly see before my death. Thanks for showing me this, Kayla.”
A phone rings somewhere in the distance, and Kieran’s mother turns her head to look for the source. “Chloe!” she shouts. “Can you get the phone for me? Chloe?” She puts her paintbrush back in the tray but she accidentally knocks the tray over. She tries to catch the falling tray, but this causes her to lose balance. She panics and tries to grasp at something, but she cannot prevent herself from toppling off the ladder.
“Mom!” Kieran shouts, reaching out to catch the woman.
Her body passes directly through his hands. She lands on the ground with a loud thunk as her belly hits the ground. Gasping out in pain, fear is evident on her face as she frantically rubs her hands over her stomach. She lifts herself from the ground and notices a bit of blood staining her white dress. She begins to sob. “Chloe!” she calls out. “Chloe, you need to call the doctor. I think I hurt your little brother.” The woman dissolves into uncontrollable tears.
Kieran turns to me in shock and horror. “Kayla! What is this?”
“This is what you wished for. This is the moment where something changed in the flow of time—because of this accident your mother will miscarry and you will never be born.”
“It’s horrible,” he says, crouching to his mother’s side helplessly. “I don’t want her to be in pain like this. She’s so sad.”
Indeed, the woman was beyond distraught as she cried brokenly to herself. “I can’t lose my baby. Please, please let him be okay. Chloe!”
Kieran looks up at me with sudden resolve. “If this means I won’t be born, then she won’t have the stroke?”
“That’s correct,” I tell him, trying my hardest to be devoid of emotion. The woman’s cries are very upsetting and I can feel how much love she has for her unborn son.
“Then this is for the best,” Kieran tells me firmly. “This is exactly what I wanted. If it’s better for my mom, and my family, then it’s best that I was never born.”
Chloe runs into the room then, and her eyes widen when she sees her mother’s state. “Mommy?” she whispers, dropping an old cordless phone. “Mommy, you’re bleeding…”
“I’m okay, sweetie,” the woman says between sobs, “but I fell on my tummy. I hurt the baby.”
The little girl ran to her mother’s side in fear. “Is my little brother okay?”
“I don’t know, Chloe. I think he’s gone. This is all my fault.” Kieran’s mother put her head in her hands and released a mournful wail. “How am I going to tell your dad?”
Kieran turned away, shutting his eyes tightly. “It looks painful now, Kayla, but trust me. Both of them are better off this way. My mom will live a long and happy life, and my family won’t struggle as much as they did with her hospital bills. Chloe will grow up with a mother and a father, and they’ll be comfortable and peaceful. Things will be good.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask him softly. “It seems to me like your mother can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
“She doesn’t know that giving birth to me will cause her to lose the life she had,” he answers stubbornly.
I stare at him skeptically. “But look at her, Kieran. She is crying her heart out over losing you and she has never even met you yet. She’s your mother, and she chose to have a baby. She wanted you, and even if it cost her some of her health, don’t you think she was willing to pay that price for your life?”
“I don’t care!” he shouts. “Everyone’s been telling me things like that my whole life, thinking it would make me feel better to know that all mothers sacrifice everything for their children. Well, I don’t want that. I want my mom to be alive and well. I want to sacrifice my life for her.”
“Fair enough,” I say softly. “That’s very noble of you, Kieran. But I don’t think it works that way.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
I extend my hand down to where he’s sitting. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
He takes my hand and we are both instantly submerged in darkness.
“Kayla? Kayla!” His voice rises in volume and echoes in the emptiness. “Where are we?”
“In the same place as before.”
A soft feminine sob comes from the corner of the room. Our heads both swivel to the source of the sound, and our eyes begin to adjust to the dark lighting. There is a gentle glow of moonlight filtering in through the glass; just enough to illuminate the silhouette of a woman in a nightgown. She is sitting in a rocking chair, so slender and feeble that she is unable to rock back and forth.
“We’re in the nursery,” Kieran says in confusion.
“Yes. Just a few weeks after your mother’s miscarriage,” I tell him. I am not sure how I know, but I am sure that I know. When I am in time, the stardust infuses me with more wisdom than I usually have. I am not wholly myself, but I am more myself than I ever was. It’s hard to explain.
“She’s upset,” Kieran says as he moves over to the crying woman. He kneels before her rocking chair, frowning. “She doesn’t look as healthy and happy as she did before.”
“Of course not. She lost a child.”
“But if I was never born, how can she be so saddened?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter whether you were two weeks old, two months, two years, twelve, or twenty. Your mother loved you all the same. A mother doesn’t grow to love a child more the older he gets or the longer she knows him. It is instant and infinite.”
Kieran narrows his eyes at me, and I can see his frustration even in the darkness. “So my death—or my not-coming-into-existence—made her unhappy for a little while. I still believe it will be better for her in the end.”
I smile at him sadly, gesturing to his mother in the rocking chair. “Kieran, this is the end.”
“What do you—no! No!” He stares in disbelief as his mother reaches to her side and picks up a glass of water from a table. With shaking hands, the woman tosses several pills into her mouth that she has been holding for a while, unknown to her son. She gulps the pills down and places the glass of water back on her table. She returns to barely rocking in her rocking chair. “Mom! Mom, what on earth? Kayla—what is she—what did she just do?” Kieran asks in a whisper.
“She took an overdose of her medication. The miscarriage sent her into a deep depression.”
He tries
to grasp the woman’s knees to shake her, but his hands pass through her body. He reaches for her shoulders, but he cannot get her attention. “Mom! Mom, don’t do this! Please, don’t throw everything away over me. I’m worthless! Spit them out. Spit those pills out now!”
Even though he knows that she cannot hear him, he tries desperately to stop her suicide. He slams his hands on the ground violently, trying to create a noise. He lifts himself off the ground and tries to kick the furniture and the walls to get her to notice him. “Mom. Mom!” he screams. “Go to the bathroom now and throw them up. I don’t want to be born. The miscarriage was a good thing!”
I watch as Kieran grows more and more agitated, trying to save his mother’s life. Eventually, he gives up and falls to the floor in front of the rocking chair, spent and weary. He smashes his fist into the ground one last time before sobbing and putting his hands in his hair.
“It seems a bit hypocritical that you defend your decision to take your own life, but won’t respect your mother’s decision to do the same,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t expect this would happen. What if I was never conceived? Can I change my wish to say that I wish I was never conceived?”
I smile sadly at this change of phrasing. “It doesn’t matter. It all ends up the same way. Your mother was meant to die young, just like you were meant to live. If you don’t live, it gives her life less meaning. It means her sacrifice was for nothing.”
Kieran closes his eyes tightly. “I thought things would be better for her if she didn’t have the stroke. Better for everyone.”
“Mommy?” Chloe walks into the room, holding a doll. “I can’t sleep.”
I gesture down at the little girl. “It’s not exactly better for everyone.”
Kieran stands up abruptly. “I can’t watch this anymore, Kayla. You’ve proved your point. You’ve convinced me. Let’s get out of here.”
I nod and reach out to touch his shoulder. With a gust of air, we are returned to the fresh-smelling garden maze, standing close to the beautiful fountain.
“That was upsetting,” Kieran told me, “but I understand now.”
“So you won’t take your own life?” I ask him hopefully.
“I meant that I understand that it wouldn’t make a difference whether I was born or not. It wouldn’t have made things better for my mother or my family.” He takes a deep breath. “But you can’t convince me that being alive now is worth anything to anyone! What about Madison? She was the closest person to me, and I ignored her to focus on my studies. Now I’ve lost both my school and Madison. Maybe I can’t change the past—but I can do something about my miserable present and bleak future.”
“Then you don’t understand yet,” I tell him softly. “Will you allow me to take you into another moment of your life?”
He seems like he intends to protest, but then he sighs. His hands fall loosely to his sides. “Sure, Kayla. I appreciate that you are trying to help, but can the next vision be a little less painful?”
“I’ll try my best,” I tell him earnestly, “but I don’t control what you see. I am only your tour guide through time. I pinpoint the most important moments, and I take you there. I can’t change any of the moments.”
He nods slowly. “Thanks for trying to help me, Kayla. I understand that this is just your job—whatever this is. I want you to know that it means a lot to me. Even if you don’t change my mind, I am thankful that you cared enough to try—and I am thankful for the company. It’s nice to have someone to talk to right now. I couldn’t bear being alone today.”
I stare at him in surprise. Even though I have done this countless times, it feels different somehow. Kieran is addressing me personally, and we do have some kind of palpable connection between us. Usually I feel distant and removed from the person I am helping, but I feel like everything that has happened in Kieran’s life, and everything that will or could happen matters to me personally. I genuinely want the best for him. “I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else,” I tell him earnestly.
Chapter 7: An Inspiring Future
Having navigated through the maze again, we find ourselves at another marble fountain. This one is even larger than the first; it depicts a woman who is perched atop a pedestal and wielding a sword.
“Where will this take us?” Kieran asks me as he stares at the sculpture.
“We’ve already visited your distant past. I think it could be enriching to view your distant future.”
Kieran sits on the edge of the fountain and looks up at me with apprehension. “Are you going to try to prove that my existence makes any difference to the future whatsoever?”
“You will make a difference. I won’t have to try very hard to prove the truth,” I tell him.
He raises his eyebrows. “Wow, Kayla. You’re very confident about this. Cocky, almost.”
“I have done this many times,” I explain, opening my palms in a gesture of peace. “I have seen all kinds of people with various sordid histories and bleak futures. Sometimes it’s difficult to give a person hope and find a reason for them to carry on—but with you it’s easy. There is so much purpose and brightness surrounding you that I can’t even choose what I should show you. It’s quite exciting, actually.”
Kieran smiles slightly as he looks at me. “What do you do when you can’t find a good reason?”
“There is always a reason,” I tell him softly. “I just have to search for one happy, peaceful moment.”
“Interesting job. Don’t you worry that telling me your strategy will stop it from working on me?”
I smirk. “No. It’s more than a job, Kieran. It’s who I am; my calling. If I can show someone that they will achieve a certain clarity and acceptance—that they will be loved—it is usually enough to help them heal and make them want to continue living.”
“Sounds easy. I guess you’re pretty assured of your success here,” Kieran says wryly.
I shake my head. “Not at all. I can only help those who want to be helped. I have seen many, many people choose to die, even after I made my case. The strongest case I could make. I have failed more times than I can count, and it is the most horrid feeling in the world. I feel responsible.”
Kieran is quiet for a moment. “I don’t want you to feel that way about me.”
A frown settles into my lips. “I don’t want you to make your decision based on my feelings,” I tell him firmly. “This is your life and you need to determine how much you value it independently of others and their feelings. Besides, I am not even a real human girl—I will disappear after today.”
“Disappear?” he asks. “Where to?”
I look away to avoid the question, a bit angered by his prying. “I will be sent very far away. It doesn’t matter.”
“It sounds like you don’t want to go,” he observes curiously.
“I don’t. I wish I could stay. I wish I could just be a human being and live among you. I wish I could have what you have—I would never take it for granted. Life is magical and it shouldn’t be wasted or tossed away carelessly.”
“I guess the grass really does seem greener,” he remarks with a grin. “You wished for the exact opposite thing that I wanted.”
“That’s because I’m older and wiser than you,” I tell him.
“How old are you exactly?” he asks me.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him. “This body is just my vessel, and she is seventeen. My soul is a lot older.”
He nods. “I want to see the future you want to show me. The big difference I’m going to make.”
“Thanks, Kieran.” I sit on the side of the fountain and throw my legs over the edge. I am still wearing my ball-gown from the party, but now it is soaking wet. “Ready?” I ask him.
He smiles and moves forward, tugging me into the pond with him. The water surrounds us, overwhelming our senses by muffling our vision and hearing. My dress balloons out, blinding us in the water just before the darkness takes us complete
ly.
A little boy is suddenly standing before us, wearing a baseball glove. He tosses a baseball into the air and struggles to catch it in his mitt as it descends.
Kieran stares at him curiously before turning to me. “Why am I seeing this? Who is he? Am I going to have a son someday?”
“All these questions,” I say lightly. “Just watch and have a little faith. We are shown only what you most need to see.”
He grumbles in frustration, but continues to watch the little boy play with his ball. All of a sudden, the boy’s head snaps around and his eyes light up. He runs right past us, shouting, “Hey! Uncle K, you’re late!”
“Sorry, kiddo. Busy day at work,” says the man who is evidently an older version of Kieran. There is a little touch of grey at his temples, but other than that he has hardly changed. He seems more at ease with himself, self-assured and impeccably dressed. He quickly tugs a baseball glove onto his hand, which looks silly as it contrasts with his business suit. “Throw it over here, Connor!”
Thus, a game of catch begins between the two. Kieran’s face softened as he watches the exchange. “He’s my nephew?” he asks me. I nod in confirmation.
“Mom said something really cool today,” Connor tells his uncle as he lobs the baseball at him.
The older Kieran catches the ball easily and gently tosses it back. “Really, what’s that?”
“She said you gave her your kidneys!”
The well-dressed businessman begins to chuckle. “Not both of them, Connor! I still have one—I need one to survive.”
“And she has the other? Why’d you have to give it to her?”
“She was suffering from chronic renal disease. It was a tough time because she was on dialysis for a while, just waiting for a transplant. Every time someone got into a car accident and died, the doctors had to check if that person had given permission for their organs to be used in a transplant. Even if they had approved it, their kidneys had to be checked to see if they could match Chloe’s, and there was a huge waiting list. A couple times your mom was lucky enough to get a kidney from a deceased donor, but her body kept rejecting the organ.”
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