There was only one problem with that—I couldn’t conduct my visit with Susie the way I had been. That worried me because I was sure my interaction with Susie was helping. Not that I had anything solid to go on—no flutters of movement or deeper breathing—it was just a strong feeling.
Esther Zook scooted her chair up close to her daughter’s hospital bed, which had been slightly elevated for the doctor’s examination.
She wore a black dress with a gray apron and the white prayer bonnet. Holding Susie’s hand in hers, she closed her eyes in silent prayer.
For nearly an hour she sat there without moving or speaking.
I was frustrated. She needed to be talking to Susie! How could I tactfully tell her?
After lunch, more and more Amish and Mennonite relatives began showing up, filing in and out of Susie’s room, some staying as long as fifteen minutes at a time. Others came in briefly to greet Esther and Rachel. Several of Susie’s aunts and uncles recognized me and kindly came over to the window where I sat. They were warm and sincere in their hellos and thank-yous, but I was one-hundred- percent-amen sure they could’ve done miraculous things if they had simply gone over to Susie’s bed and spoken to her.
Word had spread through the Amish community about the accident, and by late afternoon the trickle of Plain visitors had become a steady stream.
I needed a break from the funeral-like atmosphere and the “silent treatment” they were giving Susie. It seemed as though they were coming to pay their respects!
There was only one good thing about my being here today, I decided. Rachel and I might have an opportunity to work out our problems over Levi. Maybe…
Like the longtime friends we were, she and I settled down into the soft green leather sofa in the private waiting room down the hall. People with family members in ICU could use the room as a place to relax or wait for word from a doctor or surgeon. Rachel and I used the cozy place, surrounded by fake greenery, to begin our peace talks.
“I think I understand why ya wanted Levi to talk to me,” she began hesitantly.
“You do?”
“I never meant for Levi’s decision to make us enemies.” She folded her hands in her lap. “He’s always been interested in finding out answers to things. Never content to take no for an answer.”
I nodded. “Levi can be stubborn sometimes, but maybe this is a good thing.”
Rachel looked a bit surprised. “I don’t see how that can be.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, thinking, choosing my words carefully. “Levi says that the name of a church or religion doesn’t count for much. It’s the way a person lives, the way he walks with God that matters.”
Rachel’s blue eyes grew wide. But she didn’t respond.
I sighed. How could I explain to her what Levi had confided in me? How much did she know about his plans to attend Bible school?
“Well, I know ya didn’t have anything to do with Levi’s decision to become a preacher,” she said softly. “He has lotsa Mennonite friends. They feel called to evangelize.”
“How do your parents feel?”
She turned to face me for the first time, and I saw tears well up in her eyes. “Levi’s not rebellious like he was. We’ve seen a change in him. It’s for the better, jah.”
“So he won’t get kicked out or anything?”
“Dat says he can stay and farm as long as he likes.”
I was glad to hear it, and even happier to know that Rachel and I were back on good terms.
Suddenly, Esther Zook came into the room, surrounded by her older sisters. She was leaning on them as though she was about to faint.
“Mam!” Rachel hurried over to help her. “Was ist letz?”
“Ach, she’s exhausted,” one of Rachel’s aunts explained, looking mighty worried as she fanned a handkerchief.
“She’s plain worn out from all this,” said the other aunt. “And I’m afraid there’s more bad news.”
I cringed. I couldn’t bear to hear it. Quietly, I excused myself.
Chapter
15
I hurried down the hall to Susie’s room and tiptoed inside. My eyes scanned the room. Excepting Susie, it was empty!
My heart stood still. What if Susie had already gone to heaven?
I rushed to her bedside—forcing my eyes to focus on the heart monitor, relieved to see the IV still attached to her arm. Confused, I stood there surveying the situation. What was the bad news?
“Susie,” I spoke to her. “I’m here to give you some good news. I believe God is going to make you well, and I have just the words to prove it.”
I reached for the Bible in the small table beside her bed. “Listen to this.” And I began to read out loud again from Psalm one hundred seven, verse twenty. “ ‘He sent forth his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave.’ ”
I read it again and again, feeling the intensity, the power of the words. Then I read the next psalm, and the next. I talked to her, recounting the many adventures we’d had together. I talked of the lovely poem her grandfather was writing and all the unfinished things in her life.
“Curly John and Sarah are expecting a baby sometime before Thanksgiving. You’re going to be an aunt, Susie. An aunt at age seven! That’s amazing, don’t you think? I’m sure you’ll want to hold your little niece or nephew—rock the baby to sleep sometimes. Show him…or her…how to catch lightning bugs.” Tears stung my eyes.
I stopped to catch my breath, stroking her hand. I remembered the dead firefly with its shimmering tail. “Long before Curly John and Sarah’s baby comes, you and I will be out catching lightning bugs again. As soon as you’re up and out of here, we’ll start. Is it a deal?”
I looked in the back of the Bible and found oodles of verses about light. Susie loved light. Especially her bugs.
I looked up every verse dealing with light. One after another I read them to her, sometimes adding my own two cents’ worth about the particular verse. Not embellishing it, just simply explaining it.
My voice was starting to wear out from all the reading, but I refused to stop.
Once, I actually thought her hand twitched. I couldn’t be sure, though. I didn’t want to stop and tell the others. I knew I was making progress here, and time was too precious to waste.
When it came time for supper, I didn’t bother to eat, even though my dad had ordered food for me.
Rachel, with some strong assistance from her aunts, was able to talk her mother into going home for a nourishing meal and some much-needed rest. Levi and his grandfather would return later.
I was overjoyed about having more time with Susie. Now I could stimulate her brain to my heart’s content—with long chapters from the Bible. With heartfelt prayers for her recovery. With long, intimate talks about everything under the sun. And more.
The nurse came frequently to check monitors and Susie’s temperature. The nurse was friendly, and I was encouraged that she didn’t act as though I were in the way. She seemed to welcome my presence. Hours later, though, she looked surprised to see me still there.
“You must be a good friend of our little miss,” she said while taking Susie’s blood pressure.
“We’re very close, almost like sisters.”
The nurse smiled, then checked the amount of fluid left in the IV. “Susie is very lucky to have you.”
“She’s very special, and I’m not giving up,” I told her. “I want to be right here when she wakes up!”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” she said.
Around eight o’clock, Levi and Grandfather Zook arrived. I was glad to see them and asked Levi to read the Bible or talk to Susie in Pennsylvania Dutch, hoping the familiar language might trigger something in her.
“Jah, I will,” Levi said. “Good idea.”
I was glad to hear the friendly ring in his voice. But I wondered how he felt about our former disagreement.
I sat in the chair next to the window while Levi spoke to his sister in their fi
rst language.
Next, Grandfather Zook took a turn. “Susie, my little one,” he began. “I’m done writing your poem. Jah”—and here he nodded his head slowly—“my work is done.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded page. “I have it right here if ya wanna give a listen.”
I sat up, eager to hear the final verse, wondering if Susie was excited about it, too—inside herself somewhere.
“First, I brought somethin’ for ya.” He held up a glass canning jar filled with fireflies. With a slow sweep of his hand, he motioned for Levi to turn off the lights.
Gently, using the covers to prop it up, he placed the jar of Susie’s beloved lightning bugs in front of her face. “There, child,” I heard him whisper.
A lump caught in my throat as he stood there in the silence of the dim room, the shimmering glow of the fireflies reflected on Susie’s angel-white face.
Then Grandfather Zook began to read his newly completed poem. “’Tis the night of the fireflies, ’Tis the night of God’s call. Dusk comes and is gone, and now…”
I held my breath listening to the poetic phrases.
“True light shines on us all.”
My face was wet with tears as he began the familiar refrain. Quietly, I went to stand beside the old man, saying the rest of the poem with him.
“Come one, come all, to the firefly ball. Dance with ’em, laugh with ’em. Run straight and tall.”
And again…
“Come one, come all, to the firefly ball. Fly with ’em, flit with ’em. Run straight and tall.”
Levi’s eyes appeared misty. But it was Grandfather’s eyes that spilled over with tears. He shook his head slowly when I looked up at him, reassuring me that I shouldn’t worry.
I reached up to touch his cheek, then put my arms around him. His weeping came softly, without sobs. And I let my own tears fall unchecked.
Chapter
16
As nine o’clock neared, Levi suggested to his grandfather that they head home before it got late. But before they left, I asked Levi if we could talk in the hall. With Susie’s door safely closed behind us, I whispered my secret to him about the slight twitch in Susie’s hand.
“Ach! Are ya sure?” His eyes searched mine.
I shook my head. “I wish I could say for sure.” I waited. “But I do have this strong feeling….”
“I know whatcha mean.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “I feel it, too.”
“Oh, Levi, I’m so glad!” His blue eyes twinkled under the fluorescent lights, and for a second I honestly thought he was going to hug me.
Curious glances from the nurses’ station told us we were drawing an audience. Levi pointed to the more private waiting area, where we went to talk things over. Our conversation centered around yesterday’s tiff.
“I went home and read my Bible most all night,” Levi began. “I found lotsa verses about healing.” He paused reflectively.
“It’s so strange and new to me, Merry. All my life, I was taught that whatever happens is divinely ordered—our fate. When our barn burned down, it was just supposed to be—we were suffering the wrath of God for the whole community.”
He took a deep breath. “When someone dies, we say, ‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away’—but I wanna know that God hears the cries of His people. That He is touched by our grief. That by our prayers we can move the hand of the heavenly Father.”
I looked at him, astounded. “Levi Zook, you sound like a preacher!”
His eyes were shining like the fireflies Grandfather had brought for Susie. “I’m believin’ with ya for Susie,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry about getting in a huff about it before.”
“Things are hard for all of us,” I said. “No need to apologize.”
After Levi left with his grandfather, I went back to Susie’s room. I started telling her the things Levi and I had discussed.
“There are two of us now, Susie.” I pushed the big, comfortable chair over next to her bed. “Levi and I both believe God’s going to heal you…one of these days.”
That’s when I decided I wanted to sleep right there in the enormous chair beside her bed. I wanted to fall asleep talking to my friend.
Dad didn’t put up much of a fuss when he came to take me home, but I guess Mom thought it was ridiculous when he called to tell her. “Your mother’s concerned that you’re overdoing it,” he said after hanging up.
“Tell her I’m fine. Honest.” I went over to hug him.
“I can see that.” He kissed my forehead. “The hospital only makes exceptions for spouses or close family members of patients.”
“Aw, Daddy. Can’t you clear it with the nurses?” I pleaded. “Please? I have to do this!”
“Don’t get your hopes up about staying. I can’t promise anything.” He left me alone with Susie as he went to try to push his weight around.
I sat twiddling my thumbs, not sure what to do with my nervous energy. Praying silently, I hurried to the windows and peered out at the ink black sky. An array of twinkling lights mingled against the backdrop of darkness.
The moonless sky reminded me of Susie’s coma—black and hopeless. But the city lights were like the fireflies still shining intermittently beside her in the canning jar. The light meant hope. Hope…and courage.
When Dad didn’t return right away, I became nervous. What if the hospital wouldn’t let me stay?
I went to Susie’s bedside. I looked at the still, limp form that was her body. It was difficult seeing her like this. The Susie Zook I knew would’ve wanted to leap out of bed by now. She’d be chattering, too—about everything under the sun. That was the girl I was waiting for.
The door opened.
Dad was wearing a big, almost mischievous grin. “What do you need for the night?” he asked. “A pillow, maybe?”
“I can stay?” I ran to him. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re doing the patient a lot of good,” he said. “The nurses said so.”
“What’s that mean?” My heart was pounding with excitement. “Is something new happening?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing new to report on Susie’s condition, but look, see that color in her cheeks?” He went over to the bed and touched her face gently. “Just a hint of color.”
We stood side by side, looking at her.
“You’re right,” I said, picking up the small jar of fireflies. “Do you believe in miracles, Daddy?”
“Sure do.”
“They happened in the Bible all the time.” I kept staring at the lights inside the jar.
“Miracles can happen any time. Sometimes when we least expect them.”
Dad made sure I was comfortable—I had several pillows and a lightweight blanket—before he left. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He hugged me close. “You’re a very courageous young lady.”
I sighed. “I sure hope Mom’s not too upset.”
“Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “She’ll be fine.” Then he was gone.
I turned to Susie, still holding the jar filled with fireflies. “I’ll be right back. I have to set your lightning bugs free.”
I told the nurse at the nurses’ station where I was going, then hurried to the elevators and down to the main level. Outside, I opened the lid.
“Come one, come all, to the firefly ball,” I quoted Grandfather Zook’s poem as the twinkly bugs flew out of the jar. “Dance with ’em, laugh with ’em. Run straight and tall.”
Then I raced back inside. That’s when I bumped into Lissa Vyner.
“Merry, hi!” She sounded excited to see me.
What is she doing here?
I had just pressed the elevator button. “Oh…hi.” I remembered that I’d thought of calling her several times this week. Now I felt worse than ever because I hadn’t.
“I…uh…really wanted to clear things up between us,” I began, faltering a bit. “I wanted to talk to you about last Sunday—”
/> “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Jon and I aren’t going out anymore.”
“You’re not ?”
She studied me for a moment. “Oh, Merry, I’m so sorry about your Amish friend. When I heard about Susie and everything, I wished I hadn’t said all those things about you and…and them.” She stared at the numbers above the elevator door. When the door opened, we got on together. “That’s why I’m here. We’ve been such good friends, until…” Her voice trailed off.
“Guys can get in the way sometimes,” I said, still wondering if she suspected anything between Jon and me. “You’ll have to come help me talk to Susie.”
She looked at me with a blank expression. “I really didn’t come to see her.” She stepped off the elevator when the doors opened, and we walked together down the hallway to the waiting area.
I explained my ideas, strange as they sounded. “Susie’s in a coma, but I’ve been talking to her anyway. I’m trying to stimulate her brain.”
“You have to do this?”
“I don’t have to, really. I guess you could say it’s more of a faith thing—something Levi and I are doing because we found this really great verse in the Psalms.”
“Levi? I thought he was Amish.”
“That’s another story,” I interrupted, not wanting to share Levi’s plans just yet.
“So you’re saying Levi’s not into powwowing—that folk-healing thing some of the Amish farmers do?”
I’d heard about it, too. But most of the Amish I knew frowned on the practice. They viewed the use of charms, amulets, and silent incantations as questionable. Possibly evil.
I took Lissa into Susie’s room. “Here she is,” I said, introducing Lissa to my friend. “And, Susie, this is my girl friend from school, Lissa Vyner.”
“This is so weird, Mer. You’re talking to Susie like she hears you.” Lissa stared at me.
I nodded. “I honestly think she does.”
“Really?”
“It’s a strong feeling I have.”
Lissa and I stood at the foot of Susie’s bed and talked about all sorts of things. I couldn’t believe how far behind I’d gotten on the activities at our church youth group.
SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 Page 35