“Oh?”
“Yes,” Dr. Marstens said. “We kept it very private.”
“If you don’t mind, can you tell me why?”
“Well…, I would prefer not to go into too many details,” Dr. Marstens said. “But, I can share this. Sylvia was originally from Kentucky. Her situation there was pretty horrific. A terrible abuse case, alcoholic family, beatings, the whole gambit of horrors. I think you can get my drift.”
“Yes. But, why didn’t you call the police?”
“Times were different back then,” Dr. Marstens said. “They are better now, I don’t mind saying. Back then, the courts, and especially the courts down in Kentucky, were not particularly open to the idea of parents being abusers. It all worked out in the end, though. Vincent and Marie were wonderful parents to Sylvia. We all thought it best for her own welfare that she be shielded as much as possible from the terrible realities of her past.”
“I see,” Christopher said. “How did she recover from all of that trauma?”
“Oh, I worked with her for a long time,” Dr. Marstens said. “And, I was hoping to help Sylvia again. What is her current condition?”
“It is beyond our capabilities to treat here, Dr. Marstens,” Christopher said. “This is not a Psychiatric Hospital, but, I promised John, and…”
“No, I get it,” Dr. Marstens said. “You have been a good and loyal friend to keep her here, but, you are right. This is no place for a psychiatric patient. What are her symptoms? Has anyone made a psychological diagnosis of her condition yet? No doubt, a shock like losing your son and husband at the same time can trigger psychosis — especially for someone who has a history of prior trauma.”
“Yes,” Christopher said. “She was brought in originally after her son went missing. Total collapse. Catatonic. When she finally started to come out of it, unfortunately, John went missing. After learning of his disappearance, she had a complete breakdown and since has shown acute psychosis.”
“What does she do?”
“Well…, night and day, she just sits on her bed, rocking back and forth, staring at the wall. I will tell you, Dr. Marstens, the look on her face is unnerving, to say the least. It is almost as if she sees something we cannot. Something out there — beyond the walls of her room. Eerie.”
“Does she say anything? Has she spoken?”
“She doesn’t respond to questions. She is talking, though. But…, the thing is, she only says one thing, over and over.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t make much sense, Dr. Marstens,” Christopher said.
“I wouldn’t expect it to. The rantings of the mentally ill often do not, but sometimes, they can lead to certain insights. What does she say?”
“Well, she has her hands clutched very close to her chest, and she just keeps mumbling, ‘Take…, Eat, Take…, Eat…,’ all day and all night long. I know the staff up on Three have filed several complaints with me already. This is not something they are trained to address. She probably will have to be transferred to Bellevue soon. We just cannot manage a patient with her condition in this facility. I am trying to forestall this as long as possible. I…, I owe it to John.”
Dr. Marstens’ stomach dropped, and his eyes welled up. He cleared his throat and said, “You know, Sylvia is almost like a daughter to me. Gladys and I often remarked that, if we had a child, we would have wanted it to be Sylvia. Such a lovely girl. I must see her now. I know I can help her. I must help her! Not just for her late parents, but also for me.”
Christopher nodded.
A few minutes later, Dr. Marstens stepped out of the elevator onto the third floor and walked down the hall, past the nursing station. The nurses waved him through. He reached room 314 and opened the door, bracing himself for what he might find. It was just as he was anticipating.
Sitting on the bed, her eyes glazed and wide open, her mouth drooling and her hands tightly clutched against her chest, was Sylvia. It had been many years since he had seen her, but, in many ways, right now, she looked exactly like that terrified girl from so many decades ago. She was rocking and mumbling and showed no reaction to a visitor coming into her room.
“Sylvia, this is Dr. Marstens speaking,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
The doctor smiled as she turned slightly, and their eyes met. He did not detect a look of recognition, but, at least he had her attention.
He grinned when he saw a small spark kindle in her eyes and she stopped mumbling. He closed the door behind him, turned back to Sylvia and said, “Listen to me very carefully, Sylvia. I want you to clear your mind. I know you have been through a horrible shock, but, just like before, I will make it all better. Do you remember? Do you remember me helping you in my office when you were a little girl?”
Sylvia nodded and mumbled, “Take…, Eat….”
“Good! Now, all will be made well. Sylvia, you are going to have a new life along with a new name now. We are going to lock these fresh horrors away, just like we did before.” He choked back a sob and added, “Best of all…, at last, you will be just like the daughter I always wanted.”
Sylvia said nothing but continued to rock.
“Now, close your eyes, Sylvia. Close your eyes and remember. I want you to remember how we locked all the bad memories away — click…, click…, click…”
Chapter 35
May 1st, 2017 - 2:11 AM
Sylvia’s eyes popped open. She immediately re-shut them due to the blazing bluish-white glare blinding her. She paused for a few seconds before reopening them. Thankfully, the glare was gone, and everything now came into sharp focus. She gasped as she took in the view and blinked twice. This has to be a dream. There is no way this is real.
She was standing alone in a forest. It seemed to go on forever in all directions. Located on a gently sloping mountainside, the ancient trees around her reached upwards of fifty feet into the sky. Their enormous heavy branches created a natural cavern-like enclosure with their interlocking limbs. Instead of the bright green of spring filling her vision, all around her was covered in a blanket of pure white snow.
Sylvia looked down. She was wearing a long white, silken robe. It fit perfectly on her body. Loose and comfortable, she had never felt anything this luxurious on her skin. The garment was flawless. As she lifted her sleeve up to inspect it, she peered at the details in the fabric. Sunlight, breaking through the canopy overhead, danced over the silken threads and cast a rainbow of colors across her arm.
What is this place?
Sylvia glanced up at a patch of blue peeking through the treetops. The sky was a bright, brilliant cobalt blue. Large pink clouds floated by, changing colors as they traversed the heavens. She gasped once more. Nothing in her experience could have ever prepared her for such a vision of utter beauty and peace.
After inhaling deeply, she sighed. An unexpected warm breeze brushed across her nose. A smile crept onto her face as she recognized a familiar scent. She knew that smell. It was so familiar, and yet, so hard to place. She giggled as it came to her. It was the subtle perfume of freshly falling snow, the scent of the first blush of winter. It was the sweet bouquet of snow days home from school and hot chocolate, with extra soft marshmallows. It was the delicious aroma of getting wet and cold while making a snowman all afternoon before coming inside and warming by a blazing fire. It was snow! Snow!
She looked up again as enormous, soft white snowflakes, each the size of her hand, began floating gently to earth. Sylvia held her arms straight out at her side, turning her palms upward. Her skin tickled as the huge flakes burst onto her flesh. They were neither cold or wet, but warm and soft, like the feel of sand under her feet on a glorious June day at the beach.
She reflexively wiggled her toes and laughed as she glanced down. She was standing ankle deep in snow. How is this possible? She was not cold but warm. The warmth did not come from outside her body, but from somewhere deep inside her soul. It was a cozy, safe feeling of complete peace and acceptance. Joy, both indesc
ribable and inexplicable, surged through her body and she burst into giddy laughter.
Everything was so strange and wondrous, and yet, at the same time, oddly familiar. Her mind flooded with images of a long-ago Christmas spent in Vermont. Other memories rushed in of a glorious summer she and her parents spent on the Jersey shore. These memories joined together with others in a swirl of nostalgic recollections. She felt the warm, wet sand oozing through her toes. She began to twirl, just like she did as a little girl. It was all so disorienting, but also, familiar and safe. She tried to make sense of the contradictory images pouring over her, but, could not. She knew one thing for certain, though. She never wanted to leave.
In mid-spin, she stopped. Off in the distance, she noticed a lone figure walking towards her through the feathery snowdrifts. She leaned forward to see better and laughed when a perfectly formed flake burst over her nose. It rang like melodious wind chimes when it dissolved on her skin. Incredible! She shook her head clear and refocused her attention. She wanted to meet this other person, to share this joy with someone else. Although entirely alone in a patch of strange woods, she had no fear. Her heart was bursting with nothing but love and affection.
When the newcomer was a few yards away, an electric jolt charged through her spine and she dropped to her knees. She knew that walk. She recognized that gait. She could not see or recognize the stranger’s face yet, his form shrouded in a swirling mist of glowing snow, but something deep inside her sparked. She knew him. She did not know how, or from where, but, it didn’t matter. She knew him. As the figure drew closer the mist dissipated. He was now clearly visible. It was a little boy, and…., she inhaled sharply. He was wearing a Spiderman costume.
“I brought you your ice cream, Mommy,” the boy said as he lifted the Dove bar up to Sylvia. “I’m sorry it is so late.”
“Billy! Oh! Billy! I…, I remember! I REMEMBER!”
“I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” Billy said. “But…, all has been made right. You did it, Mommy! You got my messages in the mirror. You helped save Alyssa! I knew you would.”
“Billy! Billy! But…, I…, I don’t understand! I don’t understand any of this!” Sylvia cried.
“I know,” Billy said as he smiled. “It is not for you to understand.”
“I must! I must understand, Billy!”
“You will understand everything in time,” Billy said. He turned and pointed to his right. Sylvia followed his direction. He was pointing at something on the ground. It was a large iron strong-box, laying half buried in the snow.
A rusted chain encircled the box. Protruding up from the ivory drifts, Sylvia spied several locks cast off to the side. She glanced back at the strong-box and saw only one lock remaining. She turned back to Billy who held a key in his hand.
“It is time, Mommy,” Billy said. “We are not meant to bury our pain forever. Pain must be redeemed. It must be used for its ultimate purpose.”
“I’m afraid, Billy. I’m afraid of that box,” she said. She reached out and caressed his face. Waves of affection and maternal love flowed over her. “I know I should be sad, but…, for some reason, I am not. I know you were taken from me, and…, JOHN! Oh! Oh!”
Billy said, “Daddy said it best I come here to meet you alone.”
“John is here? I…, I remember! I remember everything, now!”
“Not everything, Mommy,” Billy said. “You do not remember everything yet. There is still more pain to redeem.”
“I want to weep, Billy, but, I cannot. I want to cry! I must! It is so…”
“There are no tears here, Mommy,” Billy said, “they belong to another place. Here, they have been banished forever.” He pointed behind him, into the woods, towards a bright blue glow pulsing at the end of a long, snowy path. “Wisdom comes from remembrance, Mommy. For it was written, He shall wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever."
“Who? Who will wipe away the tears?”
Billy smiled, and said, “Jesus will. Just as He promised He would.”
“But…, but Billy, you were taken from me,” Sylvia said. “You were…., you were so young — nearly a baby. My baby! My only baby boy!” Her eyes grew large as she added, “where was Jesus then? Who wiped my tears when my only baby was taken from me and murdered?”
Billy nodded and reached up to touch Sylvia’s face. “Jesus was with you, Mommy. He shared every tear you shed. He sobbed right along with you on those countless dark nights. He was always there, standing right beside you.”
“But why? Why? Why does God allow this?”
Billy smiled. “You cannot know. No mortal man can know. The mind of man is clouded when he is bound to the earth. His vision is obscured.”
“Speak clearly, Billy,” Sylvia said. “If God is just, there must be an answer! There must be! Why was my baby taken from me? Why were you killed? Why did you have to die?”
Billy nodded and said, “There is an answer, but your ears cannot hear. There is a plan, but your eyes cannot see. There is a design, but your mind cannot grasp it.”
“I don’t understand,” Sylvia said. “I don’t understand what you are saying. This was a senseless tragedy! You were killed! You…, my only son!”
“Oh?” Billy said. “And you think God doesn’t understand that? Do you think the Lord of the universe doesn’t share your pain? Do you imagine He does not understand the suffering of his people?”
“Can He?” Sylvia asked.
“God watched his only son die too,” Billy said. “For, it was written, For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that, whosoever shall believe in him shall not die, but have everlasting life.”
“But Billy,” Sylvia said. “Why did you have to die? Of all the billions of people in the world, why you?”
“My work on earth was done.”
“I needed you with me, Billy! I miss you so much. Since you died, I…, I…,” Sylvia cried.
“Mommy, you do not understand,” Billy said. “I am not dead. I live, and, you shall too.”
Sylvia shook her head and stared down at the ground.
Billy reached forward and brought her chin up to meet his gaze, bringing them eye to eye. “We are all created for eternity, Mommy. Our time in the fallen world is short, just the briefest flitter, like dandelion seeds dancing on a soft summer breeze. Puff, pfffft…, and we are gone, blown away by the wind. But, even then, it is not over. It is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. It is but the end of the beginning! When we pass, the truth is revealed. We who are saved do not perish. We continue — forever. And like those drifting dandelion seeds, when all is restored, at the end of time, we shall burst forth in glory in a beautiful, flawless bloom. But, until then, we wait here in paradise.”
“Paradise? Are you happy here, Billy? I must know that you are happy.”
“Mommy, listen. I suppose you cannot truly know. Eventually, you will. Once you have glanced into a blooming rose and seen the universe open wide. When you have gazed into the setting sun and heard whispers in the tide. When eternal bliss greets every day, and joy fills up your soul. When you have heard Angelic choirs sing out and know thy saintly role; only then when all death is gone, and love and joy reigns supreme, can your mind begin to understand eternal heavenly things.”
“I…, I…, but there is so much pain. There is so much suffering in the world. How can we make sense of it? How can God allow it?”
Billy said, “Remember, Mommy. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” He grinned and added, “But…, I can see you are struggling to comprehend. It is not easy.”
“I will try to understand, Billy,” Sylvia said. “I will try.”
“You will, Mommy. You will,” Billy said. “One day, when you come back, you will join me, Daddy, Father Morales, and your baby brother. Then all will be revealed.”
&nb
sp; “My baby brother? What do you mean? I don’t have a brother!”
Billy smiled and pointed to the box. He said, “You don’t remember. He was taken before he was born. He too is here, as are the dear parents who raised you, Granma Marie and Grandpa Vincent.”
“I…, I…, I…,” Sylvia stuttered.
“There is so much more for you to remember. Our time grows short. You need to return. Your earthly work is not yet done.”
“Return? No! I can’t lose you again! I can’t!”
“You must go back. It will only be for the briefest of moments. Just the blink of an eye from the standpoint of eternity,” Billy said. “But before you go, there is something you must take care of first. There is one final lock you must remove. Our pain serves a purpose, Mommy. Our suffering is not in vain. God does not waste our grief. Our anguish will be transformed into our greatest joy. I know what I am saying to you cannot be fully understood, but, it is still true. Offer your pain to God.” He held up the key and said, “And remove the final lock.”
“Oh…, oh Billy, I…, I…,” Sylvia said as she shook her head. He pressed the key into her hand.
“You have hidden from your pain for too long, Mommy. You must do it. You must remove the final lock.”
Sylvia nodded and knelt onto the ground. She placed the key into the lock, turned it to the right and heard the tumbler release — click… click… click… The lock fell into the snow with a light thud, and the chain slipped off, disappearing into a fluffy white snowdrift.
“I love you so much, Mommy,” Billy said as he rose and began to drift backward, into the bluish white tunnel of snow-covered trees. Behind him, a brilliant bright light radiated deep in the woods. “I love you more than you will ever know,” he said. “But…, we will be together again. I promise! Goodbye, Mommy. Goodbye!”
“Billy! Billy! Don’t go! Not yet, please not yet! I remember! I remember everything! You can’t go! Not now!” Sylvia cried as she raced after him.
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