BROWNIE: An Angel's Visit

by Linda Stanley Dalton

  “I can’t say I understand your feelings.” Brownie studied his host’s face. “To our Lord, a day is as a thousand years, so where I come from time doesn’t exist. From what I’ve witnessed, humans put far too much value on it. You live your whole lives by it. Clocks control you—you have to be up at a certain time, eat at a certain time, the list goes on and on. No wonder it gets frustrating as you watch life tick away.”

  “I know women have biological clocks that fuel their desire to have children,” Charlie commented and chuckled softly. “I’m obviously not a woman, but it bothers me that I’ve never had children, never found that special someone to build a life with.” He shook his head as he thought about all of his regrets. “I’m sorry, my friend. Another birthday is looming ahead, number fifty-two this time, and it’s getting to me. Most men leave behind some sort of legacy and have someone to carry on their name. I don’t even have anyone to leave my toy store to.” He bowed his head. “How pitiful is that?”

  Brownie seemed to have one eyebrow raised when Charlie looked back up and he found his facial expression intriguing.

  “Charlie, I happen to know that you are aware you’ve fathered a child.”

  “I can’t hide anything from you now, can I?” There was little that surprised Charlie about the furry angel sitting across the table who seemed to know so much about him. “Brownie, even if I did, it’s not the same thing; merely biology. We don’t know each other, and I was never part of his life. The closest I ever came to him was a picture I got in the mail of him in his mother’s arms. That’s not exactly what I would call being a father. That’s natural science, not family, and she never contacted me again. I’ll never know what happened to him.”

  “Charlie, you believe that you’re going to Heaven when you die, right?”

  “Unless you know something I don’t!” Charlie replied feeling a little uneasy at Brownie’s remark. “It makes me nervous when you say things like that.”

  “You do have a son, Charlie. His mother named him Austin Charles Brentano. She never married and gave him her surname.”

  Charlie’s mouth fell open slightly at Brownie’s revelation. So, he thought, he was real. “Austin Charles.” He liked the name. “Where is he? Does he know anything about me?”

  Brownie nodded. “He knows all about you.”

  “He does? How can that be?” Charlie asked. “Where is he? Do you think, maybe, that he would want to meet me?”

  “He wants to meet you, but it’s not time for the two of you to meet,” Brownie explained in a soft voice, aware that his words confused Charlie. “One day you’ll meet, and none of the past will matter.”

  Charlie suddenly understood, and what felt like an eerily cold gust of icy wind passed through him. His grip on the coffee mug tightened while his stomach made what felt like a nauseating drop to his toes. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Brownie nodded. “Yes, but the good news is that he is in Heaven, waiting for the day you will get to know each other.”

  Tears welled in Charlie’s eyes, tears of grief and regret for a boy he never knew, for a son whose eyes he had never looked into, for too many years of loneliness. At least he knew it was true, he did have a son. “What happened to him, to Austin?”

  Brownie explained that nearly three years ago Austin had been killed in a motorcycle accident. Austin had left home and gotten in trouble with the law, he served time on a drug charge. He was running drugs for a Phoenix kingpin when he decided that if he got caught while on probation, the violation held a genuine threat of facing serious prison time.

  “Things weren’t going very well for Austin,” Brownie continued, “but God works in mysterious ways. He met a young woman, Rene Abbott, at their mutual probation office. She was in similar circumstances and rebuilding her life brick-by-brick, using the Bible as her blueprint. She was a pretty girl with long, dark hair and Austin immediately liked her. It surprised even Austin that when she invited him to go to church with her, he accepted.”

  “Go on,” Charlie encouraged, wanting to hear more. The little face in the photograph had a name, Austin Charles. He still had no one to leave his business too, but he had a son in Heaven, an eternal legacy.

  “At Rene’s church on that particular night, the praise and worship music had everyone up on their feet, including your son who had never experienced God’s presence before. His mother was a kind woman who loved him, but she had never been interested in church and never taught him anything about God. Anyway, the spirit of the Lord moved through the sanctuary like a flood and touched everyone there. The pastor delivered a hard-hitting sermon about hell that rocked the place. There were a lot of young people present and when the altar call was given, Austin Charles went forward and received Jesus.”

  Tears streamed down Charlie’s face in response to hearing Brownie’s account of what had happened, painting vivid pictures in his mind, images he would never forget. He whispered, “Thank you, Jesus,” and wiped at his tears with a napkin from the yellow plastic holder on the table.

  “Austin lost control of the motorcycle and two hours later, he and Rene were both killed on the freeway. It was almost instantaneous, they didn’t suffer.”

  Charlie didn’t need to hear any additional details. He was overwhelmed to know that his son was in Heaven, that in addition to his parents, his child was also waiting for him.

  “So you see, Charlie, the Master has heard your prayers all along. Humans don’t understand that things are happening around them of which they know nothing about. Regardless of what happened in Austin’s life, in the end the Lord made a way and your son found it.”

  ***

  It was difficult for Lauren to watch as Michael lie so still, so pale and vulnerable. The nurses reported that he was being given medication for pain. “So far, so good,” they told her as if reading verbatim over and over from the same script. She sighed as she clutched his small, unresponsive hand in hers. It was cool and dry to the touch as she kissed it the way only a mother seemed able, with warm lips that communicated love and safety, and then she held it against her cheek as if willing some of her own life force and energy to be absorbed by him. He was practically colorless with translucent skin, and fragile, reminding Lauren of an old man with a child’s body. He had been returned to his room attached to several bags of slowly dripping IV fluids.

  Lauren turned her eyes toward Heaven, seeking the spot where she would find Jesus, as if to make eye contact with Him and to implore Him to hear her. “Lord, I don’t want him to suffer,” she prayed quietly. “You know how much I love Michael; I know You love him even more than I do. I don’t want to lose my little boy, but I don’t want him to suffer here just for the sake of his living a little bit longer.” Tears filled her eyes and when she closed them they rained teardrops down her face, falling against both her and Michael’s hands. “He is Yours, God. It isn’t easy but I will trust that You will do what is best. I’ve prayed for him to be healed because I love him and want to see him grow up, and to follow the path You have laid out for him. I pray only for Your will to be done, Abba Father. Whatever happens, it will be well with my soul. It won’t be easy—I don’t mean to say that—but I want You to know that if You choose to take my son home, I accept that as Your will.”

  Standing quietly in the doorway beyond Lauren’s field of vision, Charlie had heard her heartfelt prayers. He could not imagine how difficult it was for her to let go, to simply want God’s will for Michael even if that meant she would lose him. That type of love, of selflessness and faith moved him, and somewhere deep within his heart he realized he was falling in love with Lauren Donahue. He was unsure whether or not he had a right to his feelings during such a horrific time for Lauren, but he knew he loved her just the same.

  “Hello, Charlie,” Kenni greeted him quietly as she came up beside him. She, too had heard Lauren’s prayers, and wondered if she could be so selfless if faced with a catastrophically ill child.

  “Good morning, Kenni.” His v
oice was hushed as he tried not to intrude on Lauren’s moment with God. He smiled at her. “I’m not sure this is a good time for me to be here. Maybe I should go.”

  Kenni shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary, and more importantly, I don’t think Lauren would want you to go.” She moved from the doorway into the room, her Crocs squeaking against the floor. She took some tissues from a box on a table near one of the chairs and gave them to Lauren. She laid a gentle hand on the other woman’s shoulder and smiled at her reassuringly.

  Lauren thanked her, and then wiped her cheeks, blew her nose and turned to Charlie who was still standing uncomfortably in the doorway. Despite his obvious discomfort and looking like he didn’t know what to do, Lauren noticed for the first time the kindness in Charlie’s face, the warmth in his eyes, and she smiled at him.

  “I, um, I can come back later,” Charlie stammered like a schoolboy, his swarthy complexion deepening in hue with his awkwardness and self-consciousness.

  “No, Charlie, please don’t go.” Lauren motioned for him to come in. She touched her hands to her face, relieved that she had decided against wearing makeup that would have streaked and smeared, and made her look even worse.

  “Kenni, when do you think he’ll wake up?” Lauren asked. All she had been told for sure was that he was stable.

  “Maybe later today,” Kenni replied as she monitored the IV bags. She smiled at Lauren. “That’s sort of up to Michael. Doctor Bernstein will be in to check on him and give you an update. So far, Michael is stable and that’s a good thing. He’s getting medication to control the pain, and the best thing for him right now is sleep.” Kenni brushed her fingertips affectionately against Michael’s dark hair. “He’s been through so much, the little sweetheart.”

  Lauren wondered where Jeb was. “Where’s Doctor Hastings this morning? He’s usually been in to see Michael at least once by now.”

  Kenni sighed, crossing her arms. “I’m afraid my husband had an accident last night.” She heard both Lauren and Charlie gasp and held up a reassuring hand. “He’s fine, very blessed, but he’s exhausted and getting some much needed sleep…at least he’d better be if he knows what’s good for him!” She chuckled and her eyes sparkled. “I’ve put him under house arrest.” She giggled. “I hope he’ll stay put, but I know my husband—there’s no guarantee he will pay any attention to me.”

  “What happened?” Charlie asked.

  “He went too many hours without sleep,” Kenni summarized, not wanting to dwell on it. “He was on his way home last night and fell asleep behind the wheel. Fortunately, his vehicle was the only one involved, and thank God he wasn’t hurt.”

  “Bless his heart, he’s looked so tired the past few days,” Lauren agreed. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

  Kenni nodded in agreement. “Lauren, if you and Charlie want to go get some coffee or something, I’ll wait here with Michael. He’s my priority today so I’ll be here my entire shift.”

  Lauren looked at Charlie and then at Kenni. She could use a cup of coffee and while she hated to admit it, a break from Michael’s bedside vigil sounded inviting. If staying beside his bed would make a difference, she would never leave him for a single second. “If you’re sure it will be okay.”

  Kenni could not repress her grin. They looked like a couple of awkward teens. It was obvious they liked each other, even though they found it easier to look at almost anything else except each other, especially if the other one was watching. Kenni found it sort of cute.

  “Go on. Doctor Bernstein won’t be here for awhile and if he does come while you’re away, I’ll find you.”

  ***

  “That smarts!” Lauren cried as they left the hospital and were hit smack in the face by a rush of fierce, frigid arctic wind so cold that it took her breath away. It whipped her hair around her face, stung at her cheeks and made her eyes water. “I think my tears could freeze,” she cried as she quickly found her gloves in her pocket and slipped her hands inside them. “That’s quite a wind!” she complained as she held her coat closed by the lapels.

  “A bit nippy, isn’t it?” Charlie teased as he, too, braced himself against the cold. “There’s a little coffee shop around the corner if you’d like, or we could go somewhere else.”

  “No, the coffee shop is fine. I wish it was warmer, but the fresh air feels sort of good after hours and hours of breathing hospital air,” Lauren made conversation as they started off side-by-side along the walkway that led to Lyn-Della’s, a local landmark and coffee shop popular with the hospital trade. “I love their French vanilla coffee.”

  “I’m partial to Irish cream myself.” Charlie smiled at her. While he felt awkward due to his shyness, he was comfortable with Lauren. Her violet eyes were like deep, purple pools that went on forever, surrounded by thick dark lashes. He found her beautiful, charming, and desirable.

  “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Lauren quipped as she smiled up at him. “I would have guessed, oh, maybe something with caramel in it?”

  “Not in coffee.” Charlie laughed heartily. “I’m pretty basic about coffee. I have my Maxwell House with milk and sugar. The coffee maker kicks in, and by the time I make it to the kitchen it’s ready and waiting for me.”

  Lauren pressed the button near the crosswalk as they waited for the light to change so they could cross the street to Lyn-Della’s. Despite the cold temperature and the blustery wind, the sun was bright and the sky was the deepest shade of robin’s egg blue with huge, puffy-white clouds. It was the type of sky children drew with their crayons beneath an imaginatively created smiley-faced yellowish orange sun.

  The ‘walk’ light flashed on and the couple made their way across the street to Lyn-Della’s. The breakfast crowd had cleared out and there were only a few customers inside. Lyn-Della’s always smelled like a mixture of coffee and cinnamon rolls just popping out of the oven. It felt cozy and homey with bright yellow Priscilla curtains on the windows. The beige tiled floors sparkled, and if there was an A++ rating available from the Health Department, Lauren believed they would deserve it.

  They sat down in a booth overlooking the street and slipped off their gloves, unbuttoned and removed their coats. Within a few seconds Deb, an older woman with pale blonde hair who had worked there for years took their order for coffee and two cheese Danish before she left them to look awkwardly at one another.

  Charlie asked how Michael was doing. He had seen and heard Lauren pray, had been praying for the boy himself.

  “They tell me he’s holding his own. He’s on strong pain meds, otherwise he would be in excruciating pain,” Lauren said calmly. She had made her peace with God about her son’s situation. “They removed my child’s heart because the tumor was rather large and they did some fancy cutting getting it out of him. After that, they found a tumor on his heart which hadn’t shown up in the imaging because it was growing along the heart valve from the lung. They used bovine patches to put it back together. Doctor Bernstein says the pathology reports show clear margins on what they removed, so they got it all. Now we wait for the final pathology and go from there.”

  Lauren sighed and Charlie understood the look of weariness in her lovely eyes, his heart broke for her. Not only had she gone through her only child’s catastrophic illness, she had done it without a husband or family to turn to for support.

  Lauren looked up at Charlie. “I don’t want Michael to suffer just because I don’t want to let him go, that’s not fair. Whatever happens is God’s will, and I can accept the outcome, whatever it may be.”

  Charlie couldn’t help but place his hand over hers as it rested atop the table. “You are a courageous woman, Lauren. I admire your bravery, and your grace.” He saw a hint of mist in her hypnotic violet eyes as she smiled at him. His heart felt like it could leap out of his chest. It had been many years since a woman could elevate his pulse. “I admire your faith and I was in awe of you the other night when Pastor’s son was healed and Michael was heading into a crisis
because you never wavered, not for a second. You were genuinely happy for them, rejoicing because Noah was healed while your own little boy was getting worse.” His green eyes locked with hers. “I was very impressed, something that seldom happens to me these days.”

  “Thank you, Charlie,” she said shyly.

  Chapter 18

  Bernie sat somewhat stoically in the back seat of Kenni’s small sedan that was too small to accommodate his legs comfortably. His hands were tense and fingers clenched as they rested against his thighs. His thoughts drifted from subject to subject and he wondered what might happen over the next few hours. Seth has no reason to think I’m coming tonight, he thought between bouts of chatting back and forth with Jeb while Kenni drove them through the darkness of the early winter evening. Though the atmosphere in the car was amicable and light, Bernie found himself quite anxious about what he was about to do.

  He had grown uncomfortably warm, no doubt his anxiety had something to do with it, and he was grateful when Kenni turned off the car’s heater. He reached through the lapels of his overcoat to loosen his tie. Bernie had been inside His Holy Assembly Church only once, for Isabel’s funeral. The thought of re-entering the sanctuary brought to mind the image of Isabel’s flower-draped casket lying near the altar, and Pastor Maropolis standing at the pulpit as he led them all in prayer flooded his memory. The service had been lovely; hadn’t everyone said so? Flowers of every variety had filled the sanctuary, colorful sprays of roses, fragrant carnations, lilies and others he couldn’t name, along with dish gardens and green plants. When it was over, Bernie left Isabel behind to lie in a mahogany casket lined with her favorite color, pale pink, and prepared for her funeral.

  “It looks like there’s quite a crowd,” Kenni commented as she waited to make a left turn into the parking lot where church members wearing reflective fluorescent-yellow vests used flashlights to guide drivers to parking spaces.