Ghosts 6

September 11, 2023August 13, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Nathan woke when Mya wiggled a little to get into a more comfortable position. He felt her breasts against his ribs and he imagined she was also making little curves in the beanpole body she had been. The breasts were still small, but he imagined she did not grow that much while they slept. All the same, he hoped they were nice ones for her sake, in whatever way she imagined breasts should be nice. He looked down and he knew he had judged about right. Mya appeared to be about thirteen, fourteen at most, and she was looking up at him. Her hand came up to touch his face—not such a little hand now, but he spoke before she could say anything.

“You have bumps.” He said.

“I have bumps?” Mya’s mouth opened in a tremendous smile and her eyes and hands shot instantly to her own chest. “I have bumps!” She declared and she rushed into the bathroom and shut the door.

Nathan sat up more slowly, not because he felt stiff like he used to feel when he woke at home, but because he was savoring the morning and feeling truly rested for the first time in ages. He thought of Mya as he heard a little squeal of delight come right through the door. If she turned fourteen, he recognized that she was now twice as old as she had been only a day ago. He felt happy for her when he thought about it. He had no idea what kind of relationships they might form in the next million years, or more. He could not encompass that though; but even so, he felt that she should not have to go into eternity always being referred to as a kid. He had heard the word used twice already, and both times he heard it spoken unkindly.

He looked down at his own clothes. They were not as wrinkled as they had been, and what is more, his handkerchief looked pressed and clean again, as if it had never been used. He imagined Mya’s clothes were adjusting as well as she got older and taller, though he could not imagine how that might work. He did not worry about it. He did not know how a lot of things worked, like microwave ovens, but it never stopped him before.

After waiting for a very long time, Nathan stepped to the door and knocked. “Are you all right in there?” He raised his voice just a bit against the wood.

“Yes. I’m fine.” The answer came sharply through the door. Something seemed to be happening but he could not guess what.

“I’ll be right here when you are ready,” he told her.

“Fine! I’ll just be a minute!” She responded, and Nathan shook his head and wondered what it was about women and bathrooms. He imagined he would never understand that either, so he did not let it bother him. He stepped into the hall and watched the shift change at the nurse’s desk. He followed one of the morning nurses with his eyes as she went from room to room with her tray of morning medicine. Out of curiosity, he looked in on room 312, but there was a new man in the bed and the business man had gone; then he hustled back to 307. He did not want to be found wandering when he was supposed to be waiting patiently for Mya.

Nathan paused outside the door to their room. He saw a woman on her knees in the hall, cleaning. He thought little of it until he saw her give a furtive glance in his direction and immediately she started scrubbing a little harder for a few strokes of her brush. They were in a hospital, he remembered. People often went to hospitals to die. Nathan imagined that most of the staff had to be immune to having ghosts wander the halls, but there would always be some that were sensitive to it.

The woman glanced his way again and squinted as if she could not quite grasp what she saw, or thought she saw, or maybe she did not quite see at all. Again, she scrubbed harder for a few strokes, and Nathan wondered if the woman thought that she could clean and sterilize the ghosts away. Nathan felt sure that was one thing she could not do, and he felt a momentary twinge of sorrow for the woman. He could almost taste the woman’s fear, a kind of palpable sense of foreboding. He felt it as surely as he had felt the cruelty of the woman with the puppy and concluded that ghosts must be hyper-sensitive to the emotional state of the living. He imagined this woman might have a break down, or anyway, this would likely be a very short-lived job. He felt sorry for her again, as he walked slowly back into his room.

Mya did not come out of the bathroom until seven, nearly an hour after she went in.

“All better?” He asked.

Mya sat on the bed, not ready to walk yet. It seemed like she wanted to talk and so Nathan took a seat on the bed opposite to her and prepared himself to listen.

“I know in my head that I am really only seven years old.” Mya started right in. “But I also know I am a teenager. I know this isn’t going to make any sense, but I don’t think I am just growing up on the outside.”

“No.” Nathan interrupted. “I have watched you and listened to you so I believe you, even if it doesn’t make any sense.” He smiled.

“I want pizza, and I don’t even like pizza.” She joked and tested herself, and Nathan gave her a little laugh. It seemed the least he could do.

“But what is wrong with that?” he asked. “You told me you did not want to stay little forever.”

Mya nodded. “I don’t. But it is all happening so fast. Shouldn’t growing up take time, I mean to learn things and explore things and all that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Nathan turned thoughtful. “There really isn’t a whole lot to learn about being an adult, at least not much more than you knew by the time you were seven. Be good, do your best, love your neighbor and that sort of thing. When you grow up you have to take more responsibility for yourself and your own actions, decisions and choices. You know, like when the bird leaves the nest it must fly on its own, but you seemed like a very sensible and responsible girl since the first time I saw you. I can’t imagine trying to hitch a ride on a city bus at age seven. That must have taken great courage.”

Mya smiled and turned a little red. She fanned her face for a moment as she spoke. “You have no idea. I was scared out of my mind. To be honest, I just did not know what else to do.”

Nathan nodded and smiled his most reassuring smile. “Being an adult is a lot like that. Most grown-ups do things just because they don’t know what else to do. You have to be over eighty, I think, before you realize it doesn’t matter mostly what we do, as long as what we do is done in love and kindness.”

Mya smiled again and looked down into her lap where she worried her own hands.

Nathan asked because he picked up on the clue. “So, what took you so long in the bathroom?”

“I think I had a period,” Mya said and did not look up at first. “Mother explained it all to me and I did not really understand what she was talking about, but now it kind of makes sense. I felt all crampy and then all fattish, though I had already taken off my clothes and I did not notice getting any fatter in the mirror. Then I felt like I had to go, you know? I sat down on the toilet and tried, but nothing happened until I noticed I was bleeding a little.” She looked up. “I didn’t know ghosts could bleed.”

“I didn’t know there were really ghosts until yesterday.” Nathan countered with a motion that suggested she should go on and finish the story.

“Well, that’s it. Then I got better and got dressed and came out.”

“But I thought such things lasted for three or four days.” Nathan sounded unsure.

“Oh, a week.” Mya responded with her eyes as big as they could be. “But that’s what I mean about everything happening so fast.”

“Still, you experienced something,” he pointed out.

Mya made a very teen age, exasperated expression come to her face and she threw her hands out to slap the bed, palm up, on either side of her. “But that is what I mean about not experiencing things. How can I really grow up without experiencing things?”

“Hmm.” Nathan tried to get serious again. “Have you experienced frustration and anger as well as accomplishment and satisfaction? Have you ever been worried and afraid sometimes and felt safe and secure at other times? Have you known sadness as well as joy, hate and love, cruelty and kindness? Have you ever felt the excitement of trying to go to sleep on Christmas eve?” Mya nodded to all of it. “Then I would say you have already experienced everything there is to experience. Grown-ups just experience these same things, though the world is full of fools these days who seem determined to cut back on the joy, love and kindness part.”

“I’ve never experienced falling in love with a boy,” Mya said a bit shyly.

“And never had your heart broken either.” Nathan raised a wise, old finger to emphasize his point.

Mya puffed a teenage puff. “I would still like to fall in love with a boy,” she insisted.

“Bah.” Nathan shrugged it off. “Boys are not so special.”

Mya rolled her eyes. She had practiced that in the mirror, but she did not need to tell him that. “Now you sound like my real grandfather,” she said.

“He must be a very wise man,” Nathan responded, stood and puffed out his chest just a little. “Now, shall we go?”

“Go where?” Mya suddenly got serious.

“To see your real grandfather?” Nathan suggested. Mya shook her head. “Well how about just your regular father?” Mya’s head shake became more pronounced.

“Dad left me and mother when I was just a baby.”

“Well, how about your mother then?” Mya’s head shook hardest of all.

“I’m not ready for that yet,” she said, and then she added something that did not surprise Nathan at all since he was feeling the same tug on his soul. “I think we need to go back to the place where the bus, you know.”

“The scene of the accident?”

“The scene of the crime.”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “I was feeling that myself but I wanted to hear it from you. I was willing to fight the feeling if you said you needed to go somewhere else.”

“No,” she said and held out her hand for him to take. It was a bigger hand by then and they were more truly holding hands now rather than Nathan enfolding her little hand in his palm. “I go where you go.” She finished her thought and Nathan simply nodded as they started to walk. They chose the stairs this time, and without Nathan thinking twice about the choice.

“But what about you?” Mya asked. She drew the thought from somewhere in her growing-up mind. “Don’t you have family?”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” he said, and they went through the sliding doors and out on to the street past the man attempting to fix the doors. Apparently, they were opening and closing at all sorts of times, and all on their own.

Ghosts 5

September 6, 2023August 13, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Come on.” Mya took the lead. She grabbed Nathan’s hand and only stopped briefly at the hospital map on the wall. She seemed to know where she was headed. This time they took the stairs down one flight and she pulled him through the authorized personnel only hallway to enter a different wing of the hospital. Nathan guessed where they were going, but he said nothing. They spent a long time looking through the glass at all of the babies, but she did not want to go inside. At last, Nathan thought they needed to change venues, so he asked as kindly as he could.

“Are you hungry?” Mya looked up at him with a forlorn expression that proposed never to leave her face. It broke Nathan’s heart to see it. He realized that he missed the little girl smile that had meant so much to him and kept him steady, especially at the first. Mya had accepted the truth before he did, and she kept him going with her smile. She kept him from thinking too hard about it all and maybe becoming morose. Little Mya had no morose in her until the subject of bumps and babies came up. Now, she looked in danger of becoming hopelessly mired in her own sense of loss, and what would never be, and Nathan desperately wanted to save her from that. She certainly deserved better than to be depressed forever. “I could go for some Italian right now. Do you like Italian food?”

Mya looked up at him with her tear streaked face and those big brown eyes with their sadness etched into the black depths. She said nothing, but she did not resist him when he took her hand and headed them toward the stairs. Nathan hoped there might be food left in the hospital cafeteria since the time was getting on, but he would not have been surprised if it had all been cleaned up and put away for the night. Hospitals, like grade schools, tended to run on a very strict schedule.

The cafeteria was located on level B-1, ground level at the back of the building. They still had some service, though only one worker behind the line who wiped a spill around the macaroni and cheese. A couple of men and a few women in white coats sat around, talked quietly, and nursed their coffee and tea, having pretty much finished eating. Nathan supposed they were doctors, nurses, or more likely attendants of some sort hanging out to get the full extent of their breaks. They saw a few tables with dirty dishes, but the man behind the counter did not seem in any hurry to get out and clean them up. Instead, the man looked at the clock on the wall as if waiting for the right moment to close.

Nathan also looked. It was nearly eight-thirty, perhaps five or five and a-half hours since the accident. He brought Mya up to the line, but they quickly realized that they could not pick up the trays, plates or silverware. Their hands simply passed through the items, and while it came as a bit of a shock at first, Mya spent the next few minutes passing her hands through all sorts of things; and she smiled at the sensation.

Nathan looked at the food. They had some spaghetti in a kind of dark brown crust that might have been an attempt at meat sauce. It was real thick spaghetti and it did not look too appetizing. Still, he would not have minded a taste, though to be honest, he did not feel hungry in the least.

“I don’t think we can eat anymore.” Mya put her hands right into the hot macaroni and cheese and swirled them around with no effect on the dish or her hands whatsoever. “But that’s okay. I wasn’t really hungry.”

“Me neither,” Nathan said, and he looked up to see a big man staring at the deserts. To his surprise, the big man turned and looked right at them and with a quick comparison to the attendant behind the counter, Nathan recognized this man as another ghost.

“I’m hungry,” the man said.

“You’re fat,” Mya said as she stepped up beside Nathan. She clicked her finger nails on the metal cafeteria rail a couple of times and Nathan thought she needed some chewing gum to complete the pre-teen picture. “You should go on a diet.”

“Screw you, kid,” the fat man said.

“That was very rude.” Nathan turned and scolded Mya. She looked up at him with some concern to be sure he still liked her. She knew she was being rude, only now, after being scolded, she felt she paid her penalty and so she did not feel like saying she was sorry.

The fat man looked down for a minute before he turned his eyes again to the deserts. “The doctor said it was the fat that killed me. What does he know? The quack.” He looked at them again before his eyes were drawn back to that last piece of chocolate cake. “I didn’t think it would be like this.” He seemed to need to confess. Nathan stayed to listen, so Mya stayed, too. “I used to eat everything and anything I wanted. Mom was a great cook, and there was always plenty of junk around the house, you know, cookies, chips, treats and frozen waffles. God, I can’t think about it.” He paused to take in a deep breath. “I didn’t think it would be like this.” He began again.

“I pretty much lived my life whatever the hell way I wanted. I didn’t let anyone tell me no. I lost a couple of jobs, but screw them. I screwed everyone I wanted and when I wasn’t screwing, I was eating. God there was this one restaurant that made… but forget it. I thought when I died, like it would not happen so quick. I thought I still had years left to live and I thought I would straighten things out some when I got older.” He looked at them again. “I didn’t have the time. It all went by so quick.” He looked again at the cake and reached for it only to have his hand pass right through. “I thought when I died all of these old habits would be taken away, you know?” He looked up one last time and asked. “Why are we still here?”

“Maybe so you can have one last chance to straighten things out,” Nathan suggested what he and Mya were both thinking.

“Maybe you need to let go of some things,” Mya said and reached for Nathan’s hand which he readily gave her.

The man merely nodded and then ignored them. His hunger had him once again.

Mya and Nathan went out from there wondering what to do next. Then Nathan saw Mya yawn a big yawn and he thought they might find a deserted room in which to rest. He led the girl back to the elevator. He felt better than he had in years, feeling no pain at all, but he was still not sure about climbing a bunch of steps. Fortunately, the elevator arrived empty at eight-forty-five in the evening. They went again to the third floor, but Mya resisted seeing her grandmother. Thus they wandered in the other direction, past 315, 314 and 313. They found someone in room 312, and would have moved on if he had not shouted out to them. When they entered the room, Nathan noticed the bed had been stripped clean and the man sat on the edge of it, fully clothed as if waiting for a ride home. They saw another patient in the room, but he was sleeping.

“What is going on?” The man asked right away. “I can’t get anyone to listen to me, not the doctors or nurses or anyone.”

“What do you think is going on?” Mya spoke right up before Nathan could get a word in. Her words were not exactly meant to be rude as if to suggest the man was being stupid or something, but they came out that way and might have been taken that way. Nathan pulled her hand up to his chest and patted her hand to keep her quiet, even as her grandmother had patted that same hand.

“I don’t know.” The man spoke honestly to them, but something else could be seen behind those blue eyes. Nathan and Mya just stared into those eyes until the blue turned a little gray and the man turned his eyes to the floor. “I think I am dead.”

Mya almost said something, but Nathan hushed her and spoke instead. “I think you may be right,” he said calmly.

The man slid off the bed and threw his fists up to cover his eyes. He turned his back on them and began to spout. “I have a wife and three kids who need me. I can’t be dead. You don’t understand. I was just working on a big deal at work that was going to make my career. We were going to be set for life after that, and… and I was going to be able to spend some quality time with Sharon and the kids. I can’t be dead. I never got the quality time. It isn’t fair!” He blustered himself out and despite the closed eyes and the fists over the eyes and also the fact that his back was turned, both Mya and Nathan knew he was crying, just a little.

Nathan thought that you have to smell the roses every day as you go along or otherwise you will never catch them in bloom. His mother taught him that, but of course he did not say it out loud. He looked down. Mya stayed good. She felt the man’s pain, but she looked up to get Nathan’s unspoken assent before she said anything at all.

“It will be all right,” she said. “That is what I keep getting told, and…” She looked up to catch Nathan’s eyes again. “And I believe him.” Nathan smiled, dropped Mya’s hand and threw his arm around her for a big squeeze. He needed to hear that as much as she needed to say it.

“What do you know?” The man turned on them with a little anger. They felt it, but not nearly as much as they felt the cruelty of the puppy owner, perhaps because this man was not among the living. “You know nothing. You don’t understand. How could you? A girl and a doddering old man. I have to get back to work. I have to finish the project. I have to succeed. I spent my whole life striving to be successful. I got the right wife, the right kids, and the right job; and now, just when I am on the verge of reaching my dream, my only dream, I have it yanked out from beneath my feet. It isn’t fair, I tell you. It isn’t fair!”

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said. It seemed the least he could say and probably also the most he could say.

“Forget it,” the man said, having vented for the moment. He threw his hands out as if dismissing them. “It isn’t your fault. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. There is nothing you can do about it. Just leave me alone for a while. Please. I need to think about this. I need to think.” He sat again on the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, dropped his head, put his thumb to his temple and began to slowly rub his fingers across his forehead like a man in deep concentration.

Nathan turned Mya by the shoulders until they faced the door, and before she could say anything else. Then he withdrew his arm and took her hand once again. Room 307 had two empty beds, and as Mya seemed to be yawning up a storm, he thought that this would be as good as they were going to find.

“Now we are definitely past my bedtime,” Mya said.

“Mine too,” Nathan agreed, not entirely joking. Any time after nine o’clock was late for him. “Do you want the bed by the door?” Normally, the gentlemanly thing would have been for him to take the bed by the door to protect her against any intruders. At least that felt like the right instinct, but in this case, since she already died, he imagined there was not much that could hurt her, and he also imagined if they brought someone to the room in the middle of the night they would more than likely put the person in the bed by the window, interrupting him, not her. Mya just looked at him.

“Okay,” she said and sat on the bed, but she did not sound too sure.

Nathan nodded and opened the bathroom door, just to check things out, not that he had to go or anything. He turned on the light and paused at the sight in the mirror that greeted him. He saw his own reflection, and he was first of all surprised that he even had a reflection. “Of course, I’m not a vampire,” he mumbled to himself and grinned at his own humor. Then he touched his teeth. They looked good, better than he had seen them in some time. He had let them go a little and raised his eyebrows at himself for that thought. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and looked quickly at his hand. It still looked fairly wrinkled, but not so bad, and most of the age spotting was gone. He looked again at his face. The hair was still gray, but there seemed more of it, and in fact he thought that maybe he looked more like he had when he retired at about seventy-two, or maybe when he first retired at sixty-eight. He definitely did not look eighty-four, and for first time he admitted that while Mya was growing up, he was getting younger. It was also the first time he wondered if they might meet somewhere in the middle.

“Let me see.” Mya pushed her way into the room and Nathan backed up. She smiled at her reflection, pouted her lips, checked out the curve in her eyebrows and puffed her chest out, but there were no bumps yet. “I am growing up,” Mya said with some excitement. “I am.”

“Yes you are,” Nathan confirmed as he turned away. “But right now I am tired, even if you are not.” He laid down on the bed. “Funny our not being able to eat but our being able to sleep.” He reached down and pulled up the hospital blanket that lay folded at the foot of the bed, and let his head rest on the pillow.

“We’re not asleep yet,” Mya said, as she turned out the bathroom light and crawled under Nathan’s blanket. She curled up with him like any young girl might curl up beside her grandfather on a cold winter’s night, and Nathan willingly slipped a protective arm around the girl. Neither felt uncomfortable with the arrangement and soon enough they were both fast asleep.

************************

MONDAY, through the night and morning surprises. Until Monday, Happy Reading

Ghosts 4

September 5, 2023August 13, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Do you know your Grandmother’s name?” Nathan asked when he finally broke the silence. They had walked right into the hospital lobby through the sliding doors which opened readily for them. One young man in the waiting area gave the doors a strange and uncomfortable look when they opened and no one came in, but otherwise neither Nathan nor Mya caused any disturbance. Now that they reached the front desk, though, Nathan had to ask. He decided it would be far easier to look her up than wander the halls for half the night. The sun looked ready to set.

“Marylin Thorn.” Mya spoke without hesitation. Nathan nodded and started to reach for the front register when he heard a woman’s voice.

“Marylin Thorn is in room 317.” The woman behind the desk never once looked up.

“Thank you,” Mya responded.

“Yes, thanks,” and Nathan hustled Mya away from that area. He did not want to scare anyone. Without thinking things through, both went to the elevators and Mya pushed the button.

“Mother always lets me push the buttons,” she said. Nathan wondered how this was going to work out.

When the elevator came, they found one man in the car. He did not get off as they scooted by, but he did stick his head out the door to see if there might be anyone there. The man shrugged and stood back while the elevator doors closed and Nathan stopped Mya’s hand from pushing the button for floor three. He noticed they were going down one more flight.

“But we have to go to three,” Mya protested at full volume.

“Shh! I know. Just wait, please.” Nathan answered as quietly as he could and he saw the man lift his head as if he heard something but not quite sure what he heard. Fortunately, the doors opened fairly quickly and the man got out and stiffened his collar tight against his neck as if suddenly chilled. “Now,” Nathan said, and Mya pushed the three just before a big woman got on and pushed four. The woman frowned once at the man who just left. Nathan matched the woman’s frown, because he thought if the woman stood by the doors, there was no way they would be able to scoot around her to get out on the third floor. Fortunately, the woman pushed to the back and Nathan and Mya were just able to squeeze past her without touching her. They got off quickly when the doors opened on three before someone else got on.

“Three seventeen, now let’s see.” Nathan looked at the numbers and arrows on the wall.

“Down here.” Mya took Nathan’s hand and lead the way. Now that she arrived on the floor, she remembered better. In fact, Mya found her memory and her mind overall started becoming very sharp and focused. She started thinking and seeing life through pre-teen eyes by then because she was indeed growing up even as Nathan was getting younger, not that they knew it, exactly. His mind, by contrast, started mercifully forgetting all sorts of embarrassing and difficult moments as the years dropped away, even while his mind also sharpened overall with the clarity of youth. With Nathan, though, he thought of it as only how he felt. That long walk down so many city blocks, and without the least hint of pain or difficulty, had done him wonders. But with Mya it started becoming obvious if they cared to notice. Still, they really did not realize any of this until Grandma noticed, and said as much when they saw her.

“She has Alzheimer’s,” Mya warned before they entered the room.

What they found seemed a bit of a surprise. The woman had physically curled up in a ball, her knees drawn up to her chest and her hands in tight little fists pulled right to her chin; but that was just her body. The woman herself, or at least the image and outline of the woman, like her spirit or her ghost, sat up, legs outstretched and hands resting comfortably at her side. The woman appeared to be asleep at the moment, so they came in quietly and Mya pulled up a chair. As she sat, she reached out. “Grandma?” She found that she could touch the woman, or at least she could touch her grandmother’s spirit hand.

Grandma opened her eyes slowly. “Mya.” She recognized the girl right away; her spirit-self did all the talking and seemed very animated. The body in the bed, by contrast, barely fluttered her eyes.

“Grandma. I wanted to see you. I – I. Are you better?”

“No dear.” Grandma took a firm hold of Mya’s hand and reached over with her other hand to pat-pat that hand. “I’ll be gone soon I think. Sometimes the body doesn’t have the good sense to quit, but I am very sick, Pneumonia, you know. Still, I am content to wait. It would be wrong to rush these things, though I hope they have the good sense to let me go when the time comes.” She stole a glance at Nathan before she returned her eyes to her granddaughter. “But now stand up so I can get a good last look at you.” While Mya stood, Nathan thought that this woman’s body might be wracked with Alzheimer’s and pneumonia, but her spirit seemed strong and healthy and very aware. It was something that people—living people should know. Too bad he had no way to tell them.

Mya turned once slowly all of the way around. Nathan had his hands at his side at the moment and he noticed that presently the little girl looked nearly as tall as his elbow where she had started out barely as tall as his wrist.

“My, how grown up you are getting.” Grandma made the expected comment before she added a thought. “What are you now, nine or ten? Pretty soon you will be getting bumps of your own.”

“Grandma.” Mya sounded like a true pre-teen. She sat, turned a little red and glanced briefly at Nathan.

Grandma explained for the stranger in the room. “When Mya was just a baby with a limited vocabulary she called them bumps every time she wanted to nurse.” Grandma smiled and Nathan smiled, too, as he looked at Mya and watched her turn a bit redder.

“Grandma. This is my friend.” Mya attempted to change the subject.

“Nathan.” He introduced himself. “You have a fine granddaughter. She missed her school bus, so I took it upon myself to bring her to see you. I have a great-grand just about her age.”

“Very gentlemanly of you,” Grandma said. “But I should say, you hardly look old enough to have a ten-year-old granddaughter, much less a great-grand.”

“Grandma, I’m only seven,” Mya said, though that did not sound right at the moment even to her own ears.

Grandma lifted her brows and her body shifted ever so slightly in the bed. “You know I cannot speak to your mother like I can to you. That is very frustrating. I tend to sleep a lot when she is here.” Grandma sat up a little straighter and her body moved a little again. “I think you had better tell me what happened.”

Mya started slowly, but she finished the story in a rush. She left out nothing, including the part about the angel. Nathan found some tears as she talked, and Mya had some tears as well. Grandma’s eyes filled up with tears, but it was her body that let a few of those tears fall while she went back to patting Mya’s hand and said, “My baby. My poor baby.”

“It will be all right, Grandma.” Mya kept trying hard to be positive about it all.

“I won’t leave her alone.” Nathan promised.

“I am so glad that you are not alone.” Grandma finally took her hands back. “He seems a fine man. Don’t be afraid.”

“That is what the angel said,” Mya responded, and as she thought about the angel, she found her tears were finished and she felt much better.

“I am so sorry, my baby, but right now I am tired. I am so very, very tired.” They watched as the old woman closed her eyes. A few more tears fell from the woman’s physical body.

Mya did not want to leave right away, so they stayed for a little while and watched the old woman sleep. Soon enough Nathan stepped up and put his hands gently on Mya’s shoulders. He helped her rise from the chair. He wanted to get her moving before the tears returned, but he did not move quick enough. Mya threw her arms around him and cried into his belly, while he smoothed her long black hair with his hand, patted her back and made reassuring sounds. He led her back into the hall just before the nurse came into the room.

“It will be all right. Everything is going to be all right.” He helped her down the hall only to stop in front of the water fountain. “Are you thirsty?” She was. They found a tall water fountain there, and a second fountain, lower to the ground for the children. Mya had to stand on her toes, but she seemed delighted that she could reach the big fountain.

“I don’t want to stay little forever,” she said when she pulled back from the water. Some of the water dripped off her chin and down the front of her dress. She looked and wiped the water with her hand, but she really looked at her chest. “When I get breasts, I hope they are nice ones.”

Nathan felt a little embarrassed on hearing that. He could hardly say I hope they are, too; but he felt he had to say something. “I would not think that was so important,” he said. When she looked up at him with deep questions in her eyes, he put his foot in it. “Breasts are for babies, right?” He regretted saying that as soon as it came out of his mouth. Mya wailed and began to cry again in earnest. The nurse came out of the room and looked up at the ceiling before she shivered and walked hurriedly back to the nurse’s station. Poor Mya became wracked with tears, and all Nathan could do was hold her and let her weep. He dared not say anything more. He dared not open his mouth. But when she collapsed to the floor, Nathan got right down with her. “There, there. It will be all right.” He felt he could say that much, even as he found a few tears of his own.

After a time, when Mya’s and Nathan’s eyes were both red, and Mya’s breathing only got interrupted now and then with moments of sniffles, Nathan got out his handkerchief and found it clean. He took a corner to wipe her face and have her blow her nose.

Ghosts 2

August 30, 2023August 13, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Nathan opened his eyes. He found himself sitting on a park bench up on a grassy knoll, looking through an iron picket fence at a very confusing street scene. People were running around, screaming, while cars and trucks were screeching to a halt in both directions and things, big pieces of things, were falling from the sky. Nathan felt the little hand in his hand and he looked down to see Mya stare up at him. Her legs dangled from the edge of the bench where they did not quite reach the ground.

“I think we are dead,” Mya said. She had no sorrow, no fear, and no surprise in her voice. She just simply said it outright like the most obvious fact.

“No.” Nathan quickly shook his head. “We were blown free of the explosion, weren’t we?” They were blown free to land perfectly side by side on a park bench? He wondered. Perhaps they crawled up on the bench before they became fully aware of what they were doing?

“I think we are dead.” Mya repeated herself and she turned her eyes from his old face to the strange goings on in the street. She held his hand, too, or rather her little hand was engulfed in his wrinkled old paw, but she seemed perfectly content with that and in no hurry to break free.

“No.” Nathan said it again, but there was no conviction in his word. He also looked to the street and realized that everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Pieces of the bus were still falling and bouncing very slowly off the pavement. People were still screaming in long, drawn out sounds while tires were still screeching; and after a moment they both felt something low and loud in the pit of their stomachs which tickled as the pitch rose up the scale. Mya giggled at the feeling while Nathan identified it. “The police. Maybe an ambulance.”

“Too late,” Mya said, a deep sadness echoed finally in the midst of her giggle. She looked again at the face of the old man beside her.

“We can’t be dead,” Nathan protested. “That would make us ghosts.” He turned his eyes again to that innocent little face, but she looked away. She straightened her legs and stared at her shoes.

“I’m afraid of ghosts,” she said.

Nathan did what he wanted to do, the world be damned. He dropped the girl’s hand and put his arm tenderly and lovingly around the little girl’s shoulder, hugging her as he spoke. “I won’t let any bad ghosts get you. Hush. Everything will be all right.” And they watched for a long time while police cars, ambulances, fire trucks and tow trucks all showed up; while men and women did the work for which they were trained and the innocent pedestrians backed away but stared long and hard at all of the broken pieces scattered in the street and along the side of the road. They watched the traffic start again, slowly, and it seemed forever that only one lane moved at a time. The cars and trucks went very slowly besides, not to be careful of the workers in the street, but because the people wanted to gawk at the scene. Last of all, there were cameras and reporters who came to make a record of it all for the evening news. That was when Nathan let out the sigh he thought he had used up, and he looked down again at the little girl beside him. She looked up at him, her face a little closer to his than he imagined it would be, and she lifted her hand to touch his face once more, even as she touched him in the bus. Nathan stayed silent and did not move. He let the girl examine his ancient eyes.

“You’re not as old as you were before,” Mya concluded. “You don’t look as old as my grandmother anymore.”

Nathan took his arm back and Mya sat up while he looked down at his hands. He still saw the wrinkles and the age spots, though perhaps not so bad. The power of suggestion? Surely his suit was as wrinkled as ever. He looked at the girl and noticed her legs were not dangling so much. She could touch the ground with her toes, but then he told himself that this was the way it was before, only he had not seen properly. He rubbed his eyes and spoke. “Your grandmother is in the hospital?” This time it was a question.

“Yes.” Mya slipped her hands beneath her tight covered thighs in order to let her legs swing free.

Nathan looked to the sky to judge the time. The hospital would be a long walk, but curiously, he felt up to it. Certainly, he did not feel up to trying another bus. “I know how to get there. Would you like to go there and see her?” He thought they could reasonably arrive before dark. “I could go with you,” he added, in case she did not catch the implication.

Mya looked up at him once again and nodded. “Mother says Grandma is dying. Maybe Grandma could help us.” The girl made no explanation about what she might be thinking, but she also made no move to get off the park bench, so Nathan stood. He got up like a well-practiced old man, expecting his knees to scream, his lower back to protest and his stiff neck to make itself known, but none of those things happened. To be sure, Nathan felt a little frightened when he realized that he felt nothing at all. The forever pain, arthritis, agonizing stiffness and constant struggle against gravity were all gone. Maybe they really were ghosts. He tried not to think about it too hard and reached instead for Mya’s hand. He needed her reassuring touch.

Mya looked up and readily put her hand in his, and Nathan understood she needed his touch as well. “You are a very nice man,” she said. She decided that he was a kind, older gentleman. She trusted him, and even more importantly, she liked him. Mya never knew her grandfather. She was only three when he died, but she thought that this man might be like him. She felt safe when she held his hand, and so she took it readily and they began to walk, side by side, to find a place where they could get beyond the fence and back to the sidewalk.

Nathan’s concern grew with each step about what exactly was going on. He walked easily and without pain of any kind. It was not that he felt he could run or dance or anything like that, but his lack of pain appeared to be the last nail in the coffin, so to speak. He said as much at last. “I think we’re dead.”

“I know that we are.” Mya spoke without so much as lifting her eyes. She had to be thinking about something, and probably thinking about many things, and she showed a little tear in the corner of her eye. They came to a gate in the fence and stopped, so Nathan turned to the girl who now stood taller than his wrist but not yet as tall as his elbow, and he put one hand on each of her shoulders and bent down a little to garner her full attention.

“Now, how do you know we are dead?” he asked, and he tried to smile his most reassuring smile.

Mya said nothing. She simply pointed at her feet and Nathan looked down at two perfectly normal shoes. He started to shake his head before he gasped. He had forgotten that she was lame, a cripple with a misshapen foot. He had forgotten all about the funny shoe which had evidently been designed to help her walk. He looked at the girl’s feet and honestly could not remember which foot it was. Both shoes looked identical and normal, and Nathan had no doubt the feet inside were normal, too. He let go and took a step back. Mya looked up at him and showed some fear. Her eyes said, please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.

Nathan caught the look and returned one hand to pat the girl gently on the shoulder. “Let’s go see your grandmother,” he said, and then he turned toward the gate and tried hard not to hesitate. He was not sure if he could open the simple latch, being a little afraid that his ghost hand might pass right through the solid metal. That would have frightened him perhaps beyond repair, so it took a great deal of courage to get his fingers to reach out. When he took hold of the latch, he let out his breath and heard Mya do the same. The gate easily swung open, and then Nathan stepped aside “After you,” he said, graciously and raised his hand in an inviting gesture. Mya smiled for him.

“Thank you,” she said and tried very hard to sound and act like a real lady as they stepped out of the gate and back into the real, everyday world. Nathan made sure to close the gate tight behind them.

************************

MONDAY, The trip to the hospital. until then, Happy Reading

Ghosts 1

August 29, 2023August 13, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Nathan managed a foot on the platform, but he had to hold on to the rail to drag the rest of his decrepit body up the steps. It always took too long, and though the bus driver never said a word, the other passengers always gave him hard and cruel looks. He couldn’t help it. He was eighty-four and no longer allowed to drive, so it was the bus or nothing. He feared soon enough it would be nothing. God knew how his knees hurt. He sat heavily on the bench just behind the driver where there were plenty of metal bars to hang on to in the turns. Once he was settled, his lower back shivered as the muscles let go of their great effort to keep him upright against the hard pull of gravity. Of course, Lisa, his nag of a daughter wanted him to take the metro, but there were steps there, too. Besides that, even if the walls were white and the lights were bright, there always seemed to be something of a going-down-into-the-pits-of-Hell about the place. Nathan preferred the sun, even if the bus windows were terminally dirty and it looked like rain.

Nathan looked down at his suit jacket. It appeared terribly wrinkled. He supposed he could have it dry cleaned and pressed, but he had long since given up getting to such places on his own. He knew he could ask Lisa. She would do it, but she would also pay for it and more important, he would pay for it because she would use that as an excuse to start going through all of his things and weeding out what she did not like or what she did not think was important. His hand came up to smooth out some of the worst of the wrinkles, but all he saw was age spots and more wrinkles where his hand used to be. Getting old felt as hard as gravity. He let the winkles lay, like sleeping dogs, and decided that no one would notice an old man in a disheveled suit, and if they did, they would not care. He might have sighed, but he used up all of his sighs ten years earlier.

Nathan looked at the other passengers to pass the time. He saw a young man about mid-way to the back. Ha! Young? He had to be forty even if he still clung to the outrageous clothes of youth and still projected the attitude of the disaffected and disenfranchised. Nathan could read it in the man’s eyes. He felt sorry for the man who had probably been convinced from a very young age that he was incapable of doing anything. Ha! He should not feel incapable of doing anything until he turned at least eighty!

With that thought planted firmly in his mind, Nathan turned to look at an elderly woman who was probably older than he was. She was smiling, for Christ’s sake! Nathan remembered the ninety-three-year-old he found in the supermarket the other day. When he remarked on the two gallons of cherry vanilla ice cream while they waited in line, her response sounded interesting.

“Two scoops doused in two jiggers of brandy is really good. How do you think I got to be ninety-three?”

Nathan had not thought. He just smiled and she checked out first.

Now this elderly woman was smiling like that one. Nathan decided it must be the brandy. He could not imagine any alternative that would cause such an old woman to smile. He concluded the little-old-ladies club must pass around recipes. Nathan rubbed the back of his hand as if the age spot might be a bit of dirt. Then he rubbed the back of his stiff neck and held on while the bus came to the next stop.

“Stupid car!” The man virtually swore, and Nathan heard. Everyone heard, before they saw the man. Nathan noticed the collar right away, and supposed the man was a priest or a minister. He shouted the words “Stupid car!” as he dug for the cost of the bus ride and made everyone wait and dig out their hard and cruel looks in response. Evidently the man wanted everyone to hear and see. Nathan understood. It was the man’s way of saying that he did not normally ride a bus and he would not be caught dead on one now if his car had not behaved stupidly. Nathan was not sure it was just the car behaving stupidly. He watched as the man looked down the aisle, noticed the young man and the old lady, looked at Nathan, and took the seat in the front, opposite. Before Nathan could speak, just in case he had something on his mind to say, the minister pulled the Washington Post from under his arm and ignored everyone. The bus started again.

Nathan coughed and produced a large bit of phlegm. He even disgusted himself, but he had a handkerchief in his suit pocket so he kept the disgust to a minimum, and while he was at it he rubbed his nose before putting the handkerchief away. He imagined it a remarkable thing he did not embarrass himself more often. He had lived alone for too many years and was of an age where he should not care, yet he did care about others—not what they thought of him, but to not disgust them if he could help it. Too many men, once alone, went to pieces. At least most of Nathan’s dishes were currently clean and put away.

Nathan straightened his shirt collar and sat up straighter for a minute. He had not worn a tie, of course, since he retired all those ages ago. He leaned out to look down the aisle once again and noticed the minister with the newspaper slid a little closer to the window, beyond touching distance, just in case Nathan wanted to touch. The man turned the newspaper page as if to say, “I’m busy, leave me alone.” Unfortunately, there was little more to see beyond the young man and the old lady. There were other passengers, but they were hunkered down to where Nathan, with his not so good eyes, could hardly catch their hair color.

A man stood. He was a big, burly kind of a man; the kind of man Nathan never was. He staggered a little in the sway of the bus and jerked forward a bit as the bus came to a stop. He sat behind Nathan and Nathan guessed he would be getting off at the next stop.

The air whooshed and the bus door opened. Nathan turned to see a little girl come slowly up the steps. Nathan waited for the mother or father to follow, but none came. The bus driver asked for his money.

“Please, sir.” The little girl spoke softly, shy or embarrassed. Nathan would have had to turn up his hearing aid if he had not been sitting so close. “I missed the school bus, but I have to get home. My grandmother is very sick. My mother will pay you when we get to my stop.” That took real courage. Nathan admired the little girl

“Sorry kid. You’ll have to walk.” The bus driver looked sympathetic, but it was his job, and Nathan wondered how many rotten things were committed in the name of doing one’s job. He hated that expression. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just business.” Here is the little secret, business or not, everything in life is always personal.

The little girl looked ready to cry. “I can’t,” she said and both Nathan and the bus driver were drawn to her feet where one shoe looked stiff and metallic. Nathan did not know if it was a club foot or the result of some disease or accident, but come to think of it, the girl did limp up the steps.

“Listen, kid. I’ll lose my job. I’m sorry.” The bus driver spoke kindly but shook his head before he looked back into the bus as if to suggest that someone from the city might be there spying on him. Nathan knew no paper pusher would leave the warm security of an office to ride a bus, but he allowed that the bus driver might have thought this was a set-up to see who they could fire, given the current state of the economy. “I need my job.” The driver said honestly enough.

The little girl began to cry, softly.

“Look, I’ve got family too. I have to get home.” The burly man spoke over Nathan’s shoulder.

“Yes, can we get on with this?” The minister spoke up from behind his newspaper.

Nathan glanced back. The young man turned toward the window to ignore the whole scene. The old lady began to dig through her purse, but Nathan preempted her. He pulled a bill from his pocket. “Here, child. You sit right up front with me and sit by the window so we don’t miss your stop.” Nathan pulled himself slowly to his feet while the bus driver made change. The little girl hesitated. She looked once into Nathan’s sad, old eyes while he looked into her sad, young eyes and they understood each other in that moment. The girl scooted past him to sit next to the window. Nathan barely got his change pocketed and sat down again before the bus driver shut the door and took off.

After that, Nathan put the rest of the bus out of his mind. He looked at the back of the little girl who dutifully stared out of the dirty window. He judged her to be about seven or eight and he wondered what kind of world we had become to have school busses leave without their passengers accounted for. Surely the school had some resources for those inadvertently left behind; and especially for a little girl like this, lame as she was. Nathan understood being lame even if both of his feet were normal for his age.

“Do you know which stop is yours?” Nathan asked, not certain if he would get an answer out of the child. She had to be scared, all alone with strangers as she was. He was pleased to see her able to respond.

“Yes, thank you. I have ridden this bus before, with my mother.” The girl gave up on the dirty window and turned to face front and the hard-plastic translucent board that separated her from the bus driver’s back. “And thank you for paying.” She added as if remembering her manners. She looked up into Nathan’s old face, seeking his adult approval of her polite words and Nathan, who caught that look in her eyes, smiled in response.

“So, what are you, eight?” Nathan asked.

“Seven,” she said. “I’m in the second grade.”

“Second grade.” Nathan repeated as he thought a long, long way back. Fortunately, the ancient days were easier to remember than that morning’s breakfast. “So, you know all about reading and writing.”

“Oh, yes,” the girl said. “I love to read, but my writing needs some practice.”

Nathan nodded. “Do you stick out your tongue when you write?” he asked.

“No.” The girl shook her head. Clearly, she did not know what he meant.

“Like this.” He let his tongue a little way’s out of the corner of his mouth and pretended to have a pencil in his hand. “You see?” He pretended to write on the translucent plastic in front of them. “A-B-C.” He spoke as he wrote.

The girl put her hand quickly in front of her grinning mouth. “That’s silly.”

“But it helps,” Nathan insisted. He did it again. “D” he said, and he pretended to have trouble with the letter and let his tongue move as his hand moved. The little girl giggled and Nathan smiled again. He had a grand-daughter—no—a great-grand daughter that was seven.

“My name is Nathan.” He introduced himself.

The girl paused to examine his face before she spoke. “Mine is Mya.” And she lifted her little hand up to touch his wrinkled, craggy face. “You are very old, like my grandmother.”

Nathan lost his smile, but slowly. “You grandmother is not well.” It was a question though he said it like a statement.

Mya nodded. “She is in the hospital. My mother is going to take me to see her tonight. I think Grandma is dying.” Mya took her hand back and straightened up. Her eyes looked once again near tears. Nathan thought we are all dying; only some of us are closer to it than others. He forced a smile.

“Now, enough about dying,” he said brightly. “You just give her a big hug when you see her and tell her that you love her. That is all that really matters.” He wanted to hug the little girl himself and pat her hand to comfort her in her distress, but he did not dare. Surely someone would accuse him of terrible things, and he wondered again what sort of world they had become. All he could do was lift his heart in a kind of prayer for this little soul while the bus brakes brought them to the next stop. The big man started to get up as the doors opened, but before he could move far, someone jumped in and ran right past the driver babbling something about paradise and Satan and you demons. The minister hid behind his paper. The Bus driver grabbed and missed. The big burly man also made a grab, but it was too late. Nathan instinctively threw himself over the little girl like a shield of flesh and blood. He heard the deafening sound, felt a moment of pain, saw a brilliant, blinding light, and then nothing.

Guardian Angel-11 Trouble in Paradise, part 1 of 3

May 22, 2017May 20, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The next three days were rough for Jill as her relationship with Ethan became terribly strained. They stayed together, but said little to each other. They touched, even kissed, but it was not the same as it had been. She felt as if something was broken and she did not know how to fix it.

Jill worried that she had pushed Ethan too fast; that despite what she felt for him, maybe he did not feel the same for her, or maybe he was not ready for that kind of relationship.

She did her best in those days to teach in the hospital auditorium, and Ethan tried to sit and listen, but it was hard for either one to stay focused. He looked so sad and lost. He looked so alone, and she felt at a total loss.

On the third day, Jill set up a demonstration on the natural healing abilities of the nano-chits. “The Doctor and I can talk to you all day about fighting disease, but there is nothing like a practical demonstration. Please come close.” As she said this, Ethan let the others move up front while he kept a little to the back. Jill laid her bare arm on the table. “Whenever you are ready.” She spoke to the doctor.

“I would say, rather, when you are ready.” Doctor Augustus responded, and when she had shut her eyes and nodded, the Doctor pulled out a knife about six or seven inches long. Jill shut her eyes tighter as he pushed the knife right through her naked arm. They all heard it thunk into the table, even above the shrill sound of Jill’s cry. Peter Alexander shut his eyes. Lars cried out with her. When the Doctor pulled the knife out again, Jill’s eyes filled with tears, and she bloodied her lip as she bit it to keep a second cry at bay. Ethan could hardly watch and soon turned away. The others looked too stunned to move. Then Jill’s face turned calm again, and she spoke without the least waver in her voice.

“I have instructed my chits to temporarily deaden the nerves in the area to end the pain. The arm is now numb, like with a powerful anesthetic, and I cannot feel a thing. You will also note how the wound has stopped bleeding, and it is already closing. I have instructed my chits to completely heal the wound and restore the arm to perfect working condition.”

“I can see.” Ali Pasha verbalized his amazement in his markedly improved English. “The wound is already closing up.” In only a few minutes, there was no longer a sign of any cut on the surface.

“It will take longer to heal the internal destruction to the muscles and all, but within an hour, certainly, it will be as if nothing ever happened.” Jill finished speaking and raised the arm, pointed to the chairs and invited the others to sit.

“And these chits can be projected through the hands for the benefit of others?” Ali Pasha asked.

Jill nodded, “but only a few will be available for that at any given time. You can heal some things by the laying on of hands, but not many people before you become depleted and exhausted. Then the chits will need to grow again from the seeds within you.” Jill looked up. Ethan was not there. He had left at some point and she had not even noticed. Doctor Augustus, an old-time doctor with an excellent bedside manner, knew immediately what was happening.

“I think that is enough for today,” he suggested.

“No.” Jill shook her head, but the doctor interrupted.

“Jillian. Give your arm the time it needs to heal from the trauma. You have given your charges more than enough to think about for one day.” Jill did not argue. She had reached the point where she wanted to cry, but it had nothing to do with her arm.

The Elect 19, part 4 of 4: Hospital

March 24, 2016March 23, 2016M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“I’ve been demoted,” Emily said to Lisa with a smile and a nod at Amina.

“Demoted?”

Emily’s smile broadened. “I will have to settle for being just a Princess. You have to be the Amazon queen. You’re the eldest.”

“Yes, of course,” Lisa said without a shred of seriousness in her voice. “But don’t get any ideas. I already told you, I get enough of that “Mom” stuff at home.”

“Right, mom,” Emily said, but she said it softly.

Amina came over and plopped down on the couch. “I still cannot believe there are three elect in this one place. That is unheard of.”

“Exactly what I thought when I first arrived.” The voice came from the waiting room door. Heinrich Schultz stopped to remove his heavy coat. “But I am beginning to see why. As Father Martin used to remind me, the Almighty knows why, we just need to do the best we can with what he has called us to do.”

“Lord Heinrich,” Amina dropped her eyes.

“Why Heinrich? I understand it is unusual, but why are three of us here? Might one of us be needed elsewhere?” Lisa had thought about it a lot in the last six months and was seriously curious.

Heinrich took a seat. “Because this insignificant little burg is at the center point of all the big cities on the East coast. I believe it was not by accident that New Jersey chose this place for its capital. All of the human vibrations from Boston to Washington, the mystical energy if you will, flows right through here. Everyone considers the spokes that make the wheel, but in truth they all flow to that little center hole that holds the wheel to the wagon. Without that center hole, which no one thinks of, the wheel will be useless.”

Emily looked up. “Gee, I thought it was just by chance that the Pentagon chose out-of-the-way Jersey State to hold its super soldier contest.”

‘That too,” Heinrich nodded. “If you believe anything is by chance.”

“Detective Schromer?” The nurse came to the waiting room by way of the back door. Lisa stood. “Latasha is going to be fine. She will need to stay for a day or two, but she is in no danger. I have already arranged for her to room with the others as you requested.”

Heinrich stood. “Yes, I must go see the others. I want them to know how proud I am of them all. And also I have to officially convey President Batiste’s wishes for their speedy recovery.”

“President of the University?” Emily asked.

“Yes,” Heinrich said with a smile. “My guess is he doesn’t want to be sued.” He saluted the detective as the closest thing to the law in the room.

Lisa stiffened. It was possible she might never stop reacting that way in this man’s presence. “I was told and always understood that it was best to keep our presence quiet if not secret.”

“Generally, yes.” Heinrich admitted. “For every Joan of Arc, there are ten Joanna of Flanders that make only an historical footnote, and a hundred women not remembered at all. But everyone of them had family and friends. None needed to act alone. Indeed, when one of the elect is too alone and feels isolated, there is the greatest danger to go rogue.”

“But my friends. They could have died,” Emily said. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. The last day was traumatic, and now Latasha was almost more than she could handle.

“And you might have died, had you been there. As I understand it, the walking dead were designed to explode the minute you stabbed the heart or cut the head.”

“Yes,” Lisa said. “Julie has confirmed that.”

Heinrich nodded and looked at Lisa. “But to your point, after four hundred and seventy some years, I like to think I understand this world a little. These young women freely chose Emily’s friendship and everything that entails. They came to me to learn to fight all on their own, in case you or Emily ever needed them. I know these days people move and drift apart, but I believe any one of these women, though not elect, may do something someday for someone and make a positive difference in this world. This is thanks to you, and the good example you set.”

“It is true.” Amina stood, so Emily stood as well. “You are the example for us all.”

“Saint Emily? I don’t think so. Gee, I was with you up until you said I have to set a good example.” Emily spoke to the man. “I get stage fright.”

“As do I,” Heinrich said.

“But it is true,” Amina repeated. “You are the queen and we are your tribe.”

“Yes, Amazons,” Heinrich nodded. “There haven’t been any real Amazons in over two thousand years, but in this case the image may be appropriate. As I understand the history of it, the chief driving force of the Amazon nation was to defend their families and friends from the onslaught of the world.”

“History Professor,” Emily said aside to Lisa.

“You have your partner, Mister Mousad, and many others on the force like Rob Parker and Mitzy, the nice lady at the front desk. Even if they do not know all the details, they understand more than you think and they are there for you. Emily needs no less, and Latasha needs her friends and family as well, though I am not sure about that Darren fellow.” With that said, Heinrich saluted again, grabbed his coat and left to find Maria, Jessica and Mindy to tell them he was proud of them.

“We need to see Latasha,” Lisa immediately changed the subject.

“But wait,” Amina interrupted. “Her mother will be here in a minute.”

“Where?” Lisa looked down the hall, and Emily looked with her. They heard the ding of the elevator bell and stared as the doors opened and Ashish stepped off followed by Latasha’s mother. Lisa looked back, but Amina would not meet her eyes.

“My Sybil,” Emily said.

“I remember,” Lisa nodded, but was quickly interrupted by a woman in tears. Ashish whispered in her ear. “Social services took the two little ones.” Lisa quickly passed Latasha’s mama to Emily’s arms and started for the elevator. Unwilling to wait for it to return, she headed for the stairs. Amina shouted after her.

“The lady you seek plays the organ.”

Lisa heard and mouthed the words, “I knew it!”