“Sara, I’ve missed you,” the person said. It wasn’t Sister Lilith, which meant it must be Sister Elizabeth. “I’m so glad Brother Jacob called so I could come to see you.” From the location of her voice, she was taller than me, and by the way she held my hand and referred to me without the awkward title Sister, I got the feeling we were friends.
“I’ll inform the Commission that she’s doing better.”
Our reunion stilled at the sound of Sister Lilith’s voice coming from near the door. The way she referred to me made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Thank you, Sister Lilith, for staying until I could arrive.” Though it was polite, ice rolled from Elizabeth’s response. It seemed we all felt the same about Sister Lilith.
Sister Lilith didn’t respond, but I heard the door open and, eventually, the click-clack of her heels disappeared into the distance.
My nausea calmed a bit as I exhaled and settled on the clean sheets. Elizabeth adjusted my cast, putting pillows under my leg, while Raquel, on my right, reconnected my IV. The way they chatted felt familiar and safe. For the first time since I’d awoken from my accident, the atmosphere didn’t feel wrong.
Was Elizabeth my friend or, perhaps, a sister? Do I have family, other than a husband? Do I have children? Are Jacob and I parents? How old are we? My hand flew to my lips to stop me from speaking. I had so many questions.
As I rested against the pillow, their soft voices filled the once-frightening room with a feeling of friendship. My earlier bout of nausea had passed but the perspiration left me chilled. As if reading my thoughts, Elizabeth pulled the blankets over my shivering body. I managed a tired smile as the warmth enveloped me. Though I wanted to hear everything they said, in no time at all, their voices drifted away and sleep stole my first real chance for answers.
CHAPTER 4
Sara
A heated conversation infiltrated my dream, harsh words seeping unwontedly into the blissful scene before me. I tuned out the voices and inhaled the sweet scent of lavender. Step by step, I traveled across a purple-dotted meadow as tall grass brushed my bare legs. As I paused under the sun’s rays, my toes sank into the soft, cool ground and my skin radiated warmth. On the horizon, pink and purple clouds swirled together like paint upon a canvas. The brilliant sky was like a pair of blue eyes, shining with happiness.
The voice’s clatter wafted in ripples, small at first and only a word or two. But then it crashed like waves upon a beach destined to bear a hurricane’s wrath, each burst larger and louder than the one before.
I scanned the horizon in search of peace. The colorful clouds turned dark and ominous, bubbling and swirling above, changing the crystal-clear hues to varying shades of gray. I stood in awe of the building storm, while the wind howled and long hair whipped violently about my face.
The louder the wind roared, the more acutely aware I became of my impending doom. Panic swelled as strands of blonde tingled with electricity. Scanning in all directions, I sought shelter from the storm and then the harsh voices awoke me.
“I’ll need confirmation,” an unfamiliar voice boomed.
“You have it, from me,” Jacob growled. “Have you forgotten that I’m a member of the Assembly?”
“The Assembly is under the Commission. The decree came from the Commission.”
“Then call them. Ask! I stood before them and talked for nearly an hour. Father Gabriel himself gave the approval. I want food in here before she wakes. She hasn’t eaten anything in nearly a week. I’m not waiting any longer.”
“Calm down. You’re going to wake her.”
“I’m past calm. Tell me what she can eat.”
“If—”
“Not if,” Jacob interjected. “What can her body tolerate?”
“When I receive word that the decree has been lifted, we’ll need to start her with a bland diet: Jell-O, soup, rice. She could have some bread, but not too much.”
“Then go. Have it prepared. I told you the decree’s been removed. If you don’t believe me, call them.”
“I can’t question the Commission. It’s up to them to notify me.” The unfamiliar voice gasped, then pleaded, “No, don’t call . . .”
“This has gone on long enough,” Jacob said. His voice remained fierce but sounded more in control. “Hello, Brother Daniel. I’m with Dr. Newton. Apparently he hasn’t received the message regarding my wife . . . Yes, he’s here . . . I told him . . . Yes, let me hand him the phone.”
Jacob was arguing with my doctor? What kind of doctor was this? Surely there had to be more doctors in this hospital, people not under the control of the Commission.
“Hello, Brother Daniel?” Dr. Newton’s greeting came out more like a question. “Yes, I realize he is . . . Yes, I understand that the Assembly is a governing party and as a member his word is true. I wanted to be . . . Right away. Good-bye.” There was a pause, then Dr. Newton continued, “Brother Jacob, I’ll have Sister Deborah bring in food.”
Jacob exhaled.
The doctor’s tone became commanding as he moved closer to my bed. “You should wake her and take her to the bathroom. She’s no longer catheterized and can’t get out of the bed alone. That cast isn’t for walking.” There was a tug on my IV. “She’ll have one that she can walk on once I receive approval. I’ll return after she’s eaten. It’s past time for my exam.”
“Thank you.” Though the thunder was gone from Jacob’s voice, the storm was still present. “You should understand my insistence. I’m not losing her to starvation, not after all she’s been through.”
“I do, but you know that we all have rules. My oath is to help people, but I too have a family. Following decrees isn’t optional. We all know that.”
“Yes, we do,” Jacob said defiantly. “That won’t happen this time. I won’t allow it.”
The doctor’s words brought my reality back with a vengeance. I was at the mercy of these people, people I couldn’t see or remember. People with frightening tones, rules, and decrees. I clenched my teeth and searched my memories for anything. Anything to confirm that I belonged here, or anything to confirm that I didn’t.
Jacob approached, brushing my hair away from my forehead, and spoke. “I’m sure you’re awake. I don’t think even you could sleep through that.”
Even me? What does he mean?
I nodded. As his large hand lingered on my hair, I remembered part of my dream and wondered if my hair was blonde.
“Sara, the nurse will bring you some food. Dr. Newton wants me to help you get up before she comes.”
I reached up to my eyes. Though I felt the dampness of my hair, the bandages were dry.
“Sister Raquel replaced your bandages.” His fingers raked my hair. “But she couldn’t brush or braid your hair with you asleep.”
A lump formed in my chest. She’d changed my bandages and I’d missed it.
“I’m going to lift you from the bed.”
The blankets moved and cool air permeated my warm haven, but before the chill registered, Jacob’s arms cradled my back and legs. I winced as he lifted me. Pain emanated from my side. Sucking in a breath, I braced for him to set me in the wheelchair, but he didn’t. Instead he held me close and stepped effortlessly away from the bed. Reaching toward him, my hands spanned the breadth of his shoulders and came to rest upon his chest. Laying my cheek against his soft shirt, I inhaled the scent of leather and musk. With each step his scruffy chin brushed the top of my head. For only a second, something triggered a memory, but just as quickly it was gone.
We had apparently crossed the room, since Jacob said, “We’re in the bathroom. Raquel said you did well this morning, though I’m not sure how much of this you can do on your own.”
I reached up and pointed, hoping he’d see the handle that I’d used earlier. He must have, because he gently placed my good foot on the floor and directed my hand to the handle. At the thought of what I needed to do, blood rushed to my cheeks. I quickly lowered my chin, not wanting Ja
cob to sense my embarrassment. After all, he didn’t know that to me he was a stranger. To him we were married. He’d no doubt seen me naked many times.
His large hands framed my cheeks and lifted my face toward his. Though I couldn’t see him, we were very close. His warm breath tickled my nose, and his words were soft and reassuring. “I’d leave you alone for privacy, but the way you’re shaking, I’m afraid you might fall.”
I blindly lifted my face toward the handle. The apparatuses that held it in place clinked with my movements. I hadn’t realized how badly my hands and legs were trembling.
“Let me help you,” he offered as he released my face.
My trembling eased at his tone. It was as if he was asking instead of telling. Nodding my approval, I released the handle and placed my hands on his chest. Slowly he moved his hands to the hem of my nightgown. As he moved my gown slowly upward, his pulse beneath my hands quickened. Once the nightgown was above my waist, I felt his body stiffen.
I lowered my chin, unsure of what my expression revealed. There were too many thoughts trying to take root. Bewilderment and uncertainty swirled with embarrassment, yet they all seemed just beyond my reach. Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the task at hand. Jacob and I worked together in silence. He spoke only to alert me of our movements, which I appreciated. Each one, no matter how gentle he tried to make it, aggravated my tender side. With his alert, I’d bite my lower lip and hold my breath. It didn’t stop the pain, but at least I avoided wincing. By the time he placed me back in my bed, the telltale copper taste let me know that I’d punctured the inside of my lower lip.
Heavy silence loomed around us as we waited for my food. By the sound of Jacob’s footsteps and occasional sighs I sensed that he too was fighting a whirlwind of thoughts, though I doubted we were thinking the same things. With each passing moment, I contemplated my options. I wanted food, but I wanted more than that. I needed more than that. I needed to understand what had happened with my accident as well as what was happening now.
The questions weren’t only in my mind. They filled the room, swirling around us, taunting me. Like the faceless shadows in my dreams, they mocked me with the knowledge they refused to share. As time passed, I felt increasingly trapped—claustrophobic—as if I needed air.
What do I normally do for an outlet?
The answer washed over me with a cleansing release.
I run.
A strange sense of relief filled me as I closed my eyes and imagined paths and trails. It was so real. I not only saw the sun’s long beams dancing through the tall trees, I felt the warmth as I passed through the shafts of light and my feet pounded the ground. I pushed my body, exercising its limits. No longer suffocating in an unknown world, I was moderating my breathing, keeping my pulse steady as I gained the strength to continue. I never doubted my ability to keep going. The motion came naturally. Peering beyond the woods, I spotted the open meadow where a cool morning mist had settled near the ground. Inhaling the fresh air, I smiled at the dew glistening like diamonds in the early light.
I audibly gasped at the intense memory. My body tensed. I wasn’t there, I was here. However, what I’d imagined couldn’t have been a dream. The terrain was familiar, more so than anything around me. I tensed as Jacob once again touched my hair.
“Sara, are you all right? What happened?”
I nodded with newfound strength. I was all right. I would be. I had a memory, a real memory. Since I couldn’t tell him what had happened, I smiled and moved my head from side to side. I wanted to say that nothing was wrong. For the first time since I’d awakened in this unfamiliar world, something seemed right.
I concentrated on the images I’d created. Just like physically running, the thoughts relaxed me, easing the blanket of doubt and worry.
“I should look for your brush. Do you think you can brush your hair?” Jacob asked. “It’s unlike you for it to be like this.” With each sentence his fingers smoothed and caressed my long unruly tresses. Before I noticed he’d left, he was back. Placing a handle in my hand, he said, “You’re much better at this than I.”
Careful not to snag the bandages, I pulled the bristles through my hair. As I did, the floral scent of shampoo reminded me of the lavender flowers in my dream. I imagined the long blonde hair blowing in the wind and wondered if that was what I was brushing.
The length seemed right. It was the color that eluded me. Once silkiness replaced the tangles, I began to braid. The rote motion came without effort and resulted in a loose braid, beginning on my left and lying upon my right shoulder. As my fingers neared the end, Jacob placed a hair tie in my hand.
It was silly, only a braid, but my chest no longer ached. It was the first thing I’d done on my own. My hands remembered what to do just as my mind recalled running. It was only a start, but I clung to it.
When the door opened, my hunger woke with a vengeance.
“Place it over here,” Jacob directed.
Where’s “here”?
Tension returned to my shoulders as I pressed my lips together, suppressing the comments I instinctively knew wouldn’t be welcomed. This macho-man routine was getting old. After the door opened and closed, wheels moved against the floor. With this new sound, I envisioned a table, one that could move in front of me and over my bed. I reached out.
“No, Sara. You didn’t forget about blessing the food, did you?”
I had. It hadn’t occurred to me. Consuming it was my only thought.
I bowed my head as Jacob’s deep voice filled the room. He thanked Father Gabriel and the Commission for my food. Really? He asked God to use its nutrients to help me heal. OK. When he paused, I began to move, but then he spoke again: “Let this food be a reminder that privileges given can be taken away. Thank you for correcting my wife and reminding me of my role. We won’t fail you again, for we trust you and Father Gabriel in all things. Amen.”
I didn’t move. My hunger suddenly waned.
What does all of that mean? What correction? Is Jacob agreeing with Brother Timothy that my suffering is because I sinned?
“Sara,” he said, lifting my chin. “You need to eat.”
He was right. I needed to eat, get strong, and get away. This wasn’t right. Everything about this wasn’t right. In my heart I knew I didn’t belong here. I reached again for the tray. This time, wordlessly, Jacob captured my hands and placed them upon my lap. Apparently, just as with the ice chips the night before, Jacob planned to feed me.
“Open.”
At that first command, my teeth clenched. I understood why he’d helped me last night, I’d been weak, but now I was relatively certain I could lift a spoon and find my mouth. Nevertheless, with just one word, he’d made it clear: food was coming, but only through him. Unable to argue, I could still refuse.
Though I entertained the thought, when the spoon touched my lip, I did as he’d said and opened my mouth. Bite by bite, my anger faded as my stomach filled. The soup—more like broth—was my favorite. I may have even hummed after the first bite. Each time it hit my tongue I savored the warmth and flavor. Even with Jacob’s careful feeding, the salty chicken broth occasionally dribbled down my chin. The first time it happened, Jacob laughed. It wasn’t loud, barely a scoff, but it made me smile. I couldn’t remember my husband’s laugh. Since I’d awakened, I’d mostly heard his anger and commands. Surely there was more to our marriage than that. It wasn’t until the soup and Jell-O were finished that he placed a small roll into my hands.
“Here’s a little bread. You can probably handle this on your own.”
I nodded, rolling the bread between my hands, assessing the size. Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled the scent. When I placed it between my teeth, the hard outer crust gave way to a soft warm center. Each bite melted in my mouth as I sparingly nibbled. I didn’t want it to end, but as it did, I realized that it was the chewing I enjoyed as much as the roll. Deprivation formed the strangest needs. All too soon the roll was gone, and a straw appeared at m
y lips.
“Dr. Newton said to go easy on liquids, but here’s some water.”
I pursed my lips and sucked. The cool water reminded me that my throat felt better, even better than it had the day before. At the sound of his name, I remembered the doctor’s promise to return. Just as the thought occurred, I heard the door open.
“Doctor,” Jacob said, perhaps to inform me of who’d entered.
“I assume you’re ready for me?”
I nodded, forgetting that rarely did anyone speak to me.
“Yes,” Jacob replied. “Sara’s finished her meal. Assuming her body handles it, I want her to have a larger portion for dinner.”
Dinner? I guess I just ate lunch?
I had no way to judge time. Hearing that the day was only half-over filled my mind with a mixture of thoughts. While the promise of more food excited me, the idea of spending more time in this dark, unfamiliar life made me uneasy. Silently I longed for the familiarity of my dreams.
“We’ll need to assess . . .”
Jacob reached for my hand. “She’s lost entirely too much weight. I’m not sure of the amount, but she’s skin and bones.”
“Sister Sara,” Dr. Newton began. “I need to complete your examination. Then we’ll discuss your injuries. Do you understand?”
I nodded, feeling Jacob’s reassuring squeeze. With the slightest shift, his callused fingers caressed my knuckles, and I wondered what Jacob did for a living. From his hand I guessed that he worked hard physically, and when he’d carried me to the bathroom, I’d sensed how much bigger he was than I.
What did my accident do to his work? What about me? What do I do?
As my bed reclined for my examination, I realized the man holding my hand had argued for me, supported and assisted me, yet I didn’t know him.
Do I love him? Does he love me?
No matter how hard I searched the recesses of my mind, the answers mocked me, willfully staying beyond my reach.
CHAPTER 5
Jacob
I wanted to see her eyes. Over thirty years of studying people, reading them, and somehow I’d forgotten that eyes were key. Without them I had only secondary and insignificant clues.
Into the Light (The Light #1) Page 4