The Long Flight Home
      Chapter 11
 

Do not stand at my grave and weep:
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow:
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain:
I am the gentle Autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.

The day had begun like most other days. The black of night had turned into the rosy glow of sunrise. All of nature had embraced the new day, routines left dormant in the night, now begun once again. Danny had never really thought before about the simplicity of life, that day followed night, that light chased the darkness away, that it was always cyclical. As he stood in the cemetery, looking out over the sea of mourners, he felt that he had been plunged into perpetual night. Time had slipped away from him, the past days blurred into a kaleidoscope of endless sunrises and sunsets. He allowed his thoughts to play over the past four days, looking for meaning in the midst of chaos.

Somehow Danny had pulled himself away from the bedside of Michelle Bauer. He had stood for, he didn't know how long, just holding her delicate hand in his. It seemed so small compared to his large one, and so lifeless. He had traced the fine web of lines on her palm and had touched the tracery of life sustaining veins that criss-crossed the back of her hand. He had studied her features obscured with bruises and cuts, finding a beauty through the injuries she had suffered in the accident. He continually asked himself, why? Why had his sister died, why had she been shot, why had this young woman been in the Limo with her? The why's swirled around in his mind until he couldn't think anymore. He only knew that a slow, burning anger was building in him.

He had eventually left her bedside, but not before finding himself drawn to watch the pulse flicker in her throat, and making sure that the rhythm of the ventilator was strong and steady. He willed her to live, if only, he selfishly thought, so that she could answer his questions about the last moments of his sisters life. He felt a twinge of guilt for his motivations, but his anger was surpassing the veneer of civility that he usually wore. As he turned to leave the room, he paused, turned back towards her bedside, and with a trembling hand smoothed the hair away from her cheek. As his fingers brushed her soft skin, he felt a tingling sensation go up his arm. I am so tired, he thought, I am almost asleep on my feet. With a heavy heart, he once again turned from her bedside and made his way out, past the ICU desk, down the elevators and walked into the sunshine of a suddenly darkened day.

As Danny had driven through the gates of Casa Santos, he immediately felt the pall of death hanging over his family home. He had felt this before with the deaths of his father, and then with his brother Mick. As his car passed Pilar's rose garden, even the blooms had seemed to have lost their luster. The winds from the storm, and the pounding rain had damaged many of the blooms, damage not seen by Danny in the cover of the previous night. The statuary were a silent witness to the ravage, and Danny reflected that many things were hidden by the night, and revealed in the light of day. He wished with all that was in his being, that he did not have to walk through the front doors of his home, and face his mother's grief.

Before he had even reached the front doors, they were opened by their maid, Olga. Her face was blotched and puffy from crying and her voiced cracked upon greeting him. She tentatively touched his arm in a show of compassion, but Danny held back an answering gesture of comfort. He nodded at Olga, his throat to tight to allow words to emerge. The walk to the living room seemed so far and so long away. He could hear the muffled sobs of his abuela, and his mother. As soon as he had opened the living room doors, the sobs had grown louder. His mother had rushed to him, wrapping her arms about him in a punishing grip. The pain of her embrace reminded him that he was still alive, just. She was murmuring in Spanish, her native tongue the only language allowed her to express the depth of her grief.. Danny felt a surprising detachment from his mother. He soothed her, holding her tight, but his grief would not manifest itself with her. He had a momentary thought that he had been able to grieve at the bedside of a stranger, but not with his own flesh and blood. Before he could ponder the implications of his thoughts, his eyes caught those of his abuela's. There was a deep well of pain visible in her eyes, and he had to look away, least he drown in them.

His mother softly cried, until she exhausted herself. It took all his strength to hold onto her when he felt like collapsing himself. He was exhausted physically, and he felt himself dying more and more as each of her tears fell. An abyss was beckoning to him, and he felt drawn to it.

Abby had set by Michelle's bedside for the last twenty four hours. She couldn't make herself leave. She had finally made Rick go home, and get some rest, if he could. He had a responsibility to his patients, and she had promised to call him if there was any change in Michelle's condition. He had reluctantly left, knowing that she was right. She had been his anchor in this storm. Without her he would have fallen apart, but her presence gave him shelter from his overwhelming emotions.

Abby had grown up in an emotionally restrictive environment, and she had learned early to keep her true feelings deep in her heart. She didn't want to worry Rick, but she felt Michelle slipping away from them. It was nothing she could put her finger on, just a knowing. So, she had not left her side, even when Rick had begged her to get some rest. She had just comforted him, and asked for a blanket and pillow from the head nurse. She had settled herself as comfortably as she could, and had begun her vigil. Nurses and doctors had come and gone, the hands of time had marched steadily forward, and day had turned into night, then day again. Ed had been called, and he had made the first flight reservations that he could. He had been in constant contact with Rick since first hearing of Michelle's accident, and Abby knew that Rick was relieved by the thought of his father coming home. The hospital staff were doing done all that could possibly be done, now they just had to wait. Abby sent up a litany of prayers, voicing them in hushed, but steady tones. As her prayers rose to heaven, she reminded herself that miracles do happen. "Please send us a miracle Lord", she pleaded.

As a sudden gust of wind blew a cold caress against Danny's neck. The weather had been fitful the last few days as if even nature was grieving for the loss of a beloved daughter. The gaiety of summer had come and gone, and the earth was bracing itself for the bareness of winter. Winter had already settled on his heart Danny thought, and as he listened to the words of Fr. Thomas, he felt like the trees who's leaves were turning color in preparation to fall and go dormant. It was a metamorphosis he could liken himself to, a living sleep, with the hope of a renewal in the Spring. Except in his case, he did not allow himself thoughts of recreation. There was no hope left to look forward to…

Danny had gone to visit the scene of the accident the day after identifying Pilar's body in the morgue. He had no words for the guilt he had felt when he realized that he had set above the scene of the accident, while his sister had lain below, shattered and broken amongst the wreckage of the Limo. He would never forgive himself for not sensing her presence, for not being there for her, for not holding her in his arms one last time, but especially for not telling her that it was OK to go, that he was right there with her, and that he loved her and would love her until the day he died. In some recess of his mind he prayed that the angels had been with her and had borne her gently to heaven.

As he had looked over the precipice into the yawning depth below he cringed at the violent nature of the crash. He had been told by an investigative officer that the body of Jimmy had been found in the wreckage, only able to be identified by dental records, his body being burnt beyond recognition. For all of his failings, Jimmy had been a good employee, ready to stand in harm's way on many occasions for his family. In the end, he had probably been trying to save the lives of his passengers when the crash had occurred. Danny was so immersed in guilt, weariness, and anger that he couldn't think of anyone who would purposefully have wanted to harm Pilar. She was as removed from this business as Danny was a part of it. He and Mama had made it a point to limit her access to their dealings. Mick had been the muscle, and Danny had been the future of the family's business dealings. He was the one who had been given the education, the one pushed to succeed whereas Mick had been pushed to further the family's territory, and his ambition had been what had killed him, in a downtown warehouse under the hail of gunfire. From that day, Danny had learned to bury his emotion, to neither live life fully, or to sink into the depths of despair. He had existed in a world of duty and honor, to both his father, and his brother's memory. He only lived truly, when Pilar was home. In her was his hope for the future of the family, where the sins of the father were erased, and life could start fresh. Now, that hope was dead, gone up in the flames of the accident and the forever unchanging fact that Pilar was gone. He would never see her smile again. He would never hear her laughter, feel her sneak up behind him, her hand clinging to his as they watched the night sky, nor hear the wonderment in her voice when she exclaimed over some simple joy that she wanted to share with him.

His gaze went past his mother who was standing next to him, clothed in the garments of sorrow, and his abuela, who even after facing the tragic deaths of her son and grandson still found the will to be present at her only cherished granddaughters funeral. He looked past the white coffin, to the family mausoleum. Instead of a home filled with warmth and laughter, Pilar was being sentenced to a place of darkness and silence. He inwardly shuddered at the image of her still repose, and suddenly he wanted to run, run until the truth disappeared, until he could forget. The only thing that held him firmly to his place was the knowledge that somewhere out there, perhaps even in the midst of the mourners, was the person or persons responsible for Pilar's death. He would find them. They would pay, their lives for hers.

As the graveside service came to a close , those who had attended began to file past the coffin, each placing a single white rose upon in it remembrance. The coffin was covered in no time, a blanket of white, the blooms fragility trembling in the wake of the winds that were beginning to gain in strength. Helping his mother and his grandmother to the side of the casket, they too placed white roses upon it. Danny placed one sterling rose, Pilar's favorite, upon the rest. As he attempted to lead his mother away, she threw herself upon the casket, unable to say good-bye. Aching from holding his composure, the sight of his mother kneeling in supplication at he side of her daughter's coffin was almost his undoing. His grandmother patted his hand, indicating with her glance that she would take care of Carmen. Backing away, Danny went to speak to Father Thomas, and Ray, his cousin who had officiated at both the mass and the graveside service.

He had no words that hadn't already been spoken to tell them of his gratefulness at their presence. There was the old and new generations of clergy present today. Fr. Thomas had seen the family through the tragedies of his father, and Mick's death, and now Ray was helping him cope with Pilar's. It was actually Ray who had given him the strength to attend both the funeral and the graveside services. The traditional Rosary and viewing in memory of Pilar had taken place two day's before. As soon as the coroner had released Pilar's body, his mother had set about arranging the Rosary with Fr. Thomas. She had insisted on an open coffin, so that those who attended the Rosary could view Pilar one last time, but her body had been so ravaged that a veil of opaque silk had been placed over her face, and partially covered her hands. It's milky transparency hinted at the Pilar known to everyone, yet preserved her dignity from the curious who wondered at the nature of her death. In her hands their mother had placed the Bible and Rosary given to her on her first Communion day. The bible was worn and well loved, and the rosary was made from the wood of olive trees that dotted the landscape of Mt. Olive in Jerusalem. Danny remembered how she had loved that Rosary, because it had come from a place where Christ had once walked this earth. Where was Christ now, he wondered. If he so loved his people, how could on of his brightest be stilled forever? As he had looked down upon Pilar in her casket, he had pulled from his pocket the star necklace that he had had made for her. He had gently placed the necklace in her hands also, and as he had made the move to straighten up, a single tear fell from his eye and landed upon the silk. It's liquidity immediately spread outward, growing in size, as the magnitude of his grief began to grow also. At that moment he wished more than anything that she would tear the veil of death aside, arise and smile at him. He willed it to be so, but she remained silent, a testimony to the fact that she would never take part again in the dance of life. He had spun away from her casket, feeling an unbearable burden on his soul. Ray had tried to stop him to talk, but seeing the pain in his cousins eyes, he had let him go.

Danny had no clear recollection of driving to the hospital, but for some reason he found himself sitting in the parking lot, staring out his windshield. What had drawn him here? In some far recess of his mind he knew, but he could not articulate it's meaning. He found himself entering the elevator and ascending to the SICU. The young nurse on duty the night of the accident was at the nurses desk and she welcomed him warmly. He asked if he could visit with Michelle and she said only for a few moments. Nodding his head in agreement, he proceeded to make his way to her bedside. As he neared he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation, a feeling that everything would be all right.

She was still hooked up to all the monitors and IV's, and if the bruising from before had looked bad, it was worse this day. Her leg and right arm had been placed in what looked like traction of some sort, but for all this she seemed too peaceful. He had overheard the nurses talking the first night he had come to see her that her condition was poor, and that she had been placed in a coma to help her body heal from the massive infections that were surely sweeping through it. He wondered what she was dreaming of, and he drew a chair close to her bedside and just sat staring at her face, her heartbeat visible in her neck, and on the monitor, and listened to the steady breathing of the ventilator. He began to calm down, he even felt like he might be able to rest. He hadn't slept in day's now. He ran a hand over his face rough with the stubble of numerous day's gone unshaven. The trembling of his hands was beginning to quiet, and he felt his breathing start to return to normal. There was something about her, an aura of warmth that he could feel even though he knew nothing about her.

As she lay so desperately ill, she soothed him. Was he of so little feeling that he would use her to make himself feel better? What kind of monster was he becoming, he wondered? He thought again that he should be with his family helping them to cope with the enormity of this tragedy, but the simple truth was that he could barely cope, and they expected that he remain strong. Here, though, sitting with her, he felt that he could let his guard down, that he could dare to feel. So, he sat with her, the minutes ticking off the clock, and he felt his eyes begin to close, and instinctively he reached for her hand, the warmth of it infusing him with light. As hard as he tried to keep his eyes open, his lashes fluttered closed and he slept, his sleep filled with images of someone laughing, and smiling, twirling in glee. As they spun to face him, he half expected to see Pilar as thoughts of her had consumed him for day's, but to his surprise, the face that smiled and looked into his eyes, belonged to that of Michelle Bauer.

As the nurse had made her rounds she found the man, slumped in a chair beside the bed, holding the hand of Michelle, sleeping. He had looked so horribly grief-stricken as he had come in, but now he looked peaceful, and so she left him to sleep, if even for a few moments.

She checked Michelle's vitals and recorded her temp and checked her urine output. A frown chased across her face as she noted that Michelle's temperature was still not stable, and her urine output had decreased. These were not good signs, and as she left her cubicle, she made it her intent to let the doctor know of Michelle's worsening condition. If Michelle was beginning to "crump", then her family needed to be notified of what might be to come. Dr. Bauer was well liked at the hospital, and so was his wife Abby, his father, and Michelle too. The young nurse was horribly saddened by the circumstances surrounding this tragedy, and she said a little prayer that God might spare her.

The mourners began to disperse, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen. His time with Pilar was at a close, and he couldn't seem to find the emotions to express his grave sense of loss at this closing. The pain tore at his heart, and his soul. If he could believe in a heaven, he knew that Pilar was safely in the arms of their father, and Mick, and all their relatives who had gone before them into that great mystery that was death. He couldn't bring himself to see her there, he could only see the reality of her coffin sitting before him. It's symbolism was a bitter pill, one that he had never thought he would taste while Pilar was alive. She was too young to be taken away. Her life had meaning and purpose. Now she would never be able to fulfill her destiny, and the wounds of the past, merged with the fresh scars of these last few day's, to lay open his battered soul. The only thing that kept him clinging to any sort of hope had been his visit to Michelle Bauer's bedside. His physical body had rested with her, and so had his soul. He had slept for an hour before leaving her bedside, leaving only a kiss on her hand as a sign that he had ever been there. He didn't know if he dared to see her again. He could not understand his pull to her. After checking with the nurse to make sure she was resting comfortably, he left as he had come, silent and still broken, yet, in some way, restored.

A hand, firm, and sure descended upon his shoulder. Danny knew without turning around that it was the sure touch of his dear friend and mentor, Abraham. As he turned to him, Abraham grasped both his arms and drew him into an embrace, so full of his own remembered pain, that Danny had no choice but to respond to it. They stood for a few moments, gaining strength from one another. Abraham then stepped back cradling Danny's jaw in his hand.

"You are weary Daniel", he spoke strongly, yet softly. "Your grief is deep, and your anger is strong. You must not let your anger rule your heart or your head. You must accept that there are things that you cannot change, that are not within your ability to understand. God knows your pain, he feels your torment. Give your pain to God, my son. He will give you the only comfort you can understand". Pointing to Danny's heart, Abraham looked directly into Danny's saying, "only you can let God in Daniel. Let him reside in the emptiness, let him fill it with the light of His love. Let him banish your sorrows and your pain. Give him your anger, and distress. He wants to take them from you. You must forgive to live. You must look forward, not back".

Looking at Abraham with despair Danny asked him one question. "What if I can't forgive, or forget?

"You must learn my son, or Pilar's death will be yours also". Remember that I am here always. You are like a son to me, and your suffering is mine. Let me help you shoulder your burdens". I will not be far away from you, ever. Promise me you will not forget ".

Danny held onto Abraham's arms with a tremulous grasp. His anguish was in plain view, and he thanked Abraham for coming, for being there for him, for understanding the enormity of his desolation. Abraham was no stranger to the bleakness of the hungry heart. He understood all to well that Danny would have to struggle with his demons for a long time to come. He made a vow, silent as it was, that he would do whatever was in his power to see Daniel through this aching void.

As he moved to his hired car, he looked back one last time to see Daniel. He was standing next to the casket, his hand resting on the upper portion of it, his carriage erect and stark still. The wind was blowing around him, tumbling some of the rose stems to the ground, and his black overcoat whipped about in the wind. Abraham noticed that Daniel took no heed to the wind, nor to the cemetery workers who were patiently waiting off to the side, waiting to move Pilar's casket to the family crypt. The image of Daniel's devastation remained with Abraham, even as he was well on his journey home. He was once himself, like Daniel was now. He too had had to find a way through the valley of death. He sent up his own prayers to God, and asked Him to bring Pilar into the safety of His arms, and to hold Daniel in the palm of His hand.

Doctor Robison had Rick paged, asking him to meet him at Michelle's room. He could find no other way but the truth, to tell both he and Abby of Michelle's steady downward spiral. He had thought they might have gotten lucky with her, but she was continually becoming worse. He wanted to prepare Rick and Abby for what he saw as the inevitable. How did you tell someone, especially a friend that their loved one was dying? He had never found the adequate words in the past and he didn't know if he could find them now.

As soon as Rick and Abby were assembled outside Michelle's room, Jake Robison gave them the news they had been praying not to hear.

"Rick and Abby, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but Michelle is not responding to the antibiotics like we had hoped she would. Her temperature has not come down, her blood pressure is not stable, her labs are irregular and I'm afraid her urine output is negligent. Her latest EEG didn't look good. I'm almost assured that she has developed SIRS, and most likely ARDS."

Rick's shocked exclamation had Abby turning to him in a panic. "What does this mean Rick, and Jake? Please tell me", she begged.

Rick answered her first. "It means honey, that Michelle has developed Systemic Inflammatory Response Syndrome brought on by being down for so long in the rain and the elements without help".

Jake joined in. "It now means Abby that the infection Michelle received from her injuries and the trauma her body experienced while she waited to be found has also caused complications in the form of Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome. Her lungs aren't able to oxygenate her blood anymore. The infection has invaded them. We're going to do all we can to help her, but I must tell you our worst case scenario is coming true".

"Oh my God Rick, what will we tell your father when he gets here? We told him to settle his affairs in Europe before coming home. Now that has all changed. He has to get here in time!", she cried.

As Rick and Abby looked at Jake in hopelessness, they clung to the comfort of their love for another, and for Michelle. Rick went to phone his father, and Abby made her way into Michelle's room. As the tears poured down her cheeks, she rubbed Michelle's cheek, stroking it as a mother would stoke a child's face in loving care. "We are here Michelle. We love you, and we will be here when you wake up. Come back to us soon", she softly spoke to her. In the silence of her own thoughts, she knew that if Michelle were to leave this earth, she would mourn, but she would also accept God's Divine plan.

Michelle was floating in a nether world. Her mind and body were free from earthly shackles, and she existed somewhere between this world and the next. She could hear voices from a distance, some she knew, and some that were unfamiliar to her. Time was suspended, and it's passage came and went. She found herself surrounded by a love and a warmth she had never felt before. Perhaps I have gone to heaven, she thought. She really didn't know where she was, only that she existed in some form. Her dreams had been vivid, filled with the images of those she loved, and of the things she cherished. There was a face among all of those that she recognized, but that remained beyond her grasp of complete understanding. He possessed a classically handsome face, with a long patrician nose, a high forehead, full sensual lips, and a strong jaw. His hair was a mix of dark sleekness and curls, and his eyes riveted her. They were endless pools of dark brown, so compelling that she could not look away from them. His face had dominated much of her dream world, and she felt safe with him by her side.

She found herself running in a meadow, the tall grass interspersed with wild flowers. As she ran, she bent to pick the flowers, laughing when she missed them and fell in a heap instead. She knew he was at her side. She could feel his presence, his strength, his warmth, his love. She could not see him, but she knew it was him. Others joined them in the meadow, children, their laughter a balm to her soul. The sky was a cerulean blue, and puffy clouds skittered across it. She lay down in the tall grasses and gazed up at it, looking beyond the clouds to see if she really was in heaven and could catch a glimpse of it. She felt him take her hand, and her being infused with love.

Suddenly, she found herself on a carousel. Her mother was beside her, her grandmother, Bert ahead of her. There were other members of her family on the carousel, and friends, and patients from the hospital that she had known from her volunteer work. She had always loved to ride the merry-go-round as a child, and even as an adult. She laughed at the pure joy of feeling the wind in her face, and of having all those that she loved surround her. Her mother's smile was beatific, and as she looked into her eyes, she didn't think she would ever see a greater love then this ever again in her life.

As she looked behind her, she saw him. He did not ride the carousel, he stood off to the side, a solemn expression on his face. She wondered at the seriousness of it, and as she came round to pass him, he would not catch her eye. She began to worry, the joy of the music and the up and down motion of her stead lost in her feeling of desolation. As she turned back to face forward she noticed that the horses were beginning to fly off the carousel, one by one. The carousel began to turn faster, and she watched as first her grandmother Bert, then her mother's horses left the merry-go-round. Looking close, she tried to find him, but she was turning faster and faster, and he was becoming a blur. His image began to waver in her mind, and suddenly she remembered his name. As her horse followed suit and began to thunder away from the carousel, she screamed his name, Daniel, Daniel! If he heard, she would never know. Suddenly she was alone, and instantly she was being sucked into a swirling void.

"We've got a code", the charge nurse shouted. "Get Dr. Robison, stat". Abby looked on in horror as a team of nurses and others rushed to Michelle's side with a crash cart. She backed away from Michelle's bedside, horror keeping her from moving out of the room. "Dear, God, don't take her now, please don't take her yet." As Rick ran into the room, she could only look on in mute anguish as she watched the team work to restore Michelle's very life essence. "Take care of her Lord, she belongs to you now", Abby whispered as Rick pulled her close, and they became silent witnesses to Michelle's last struggle to survive.

There was no one left at the graveside. Danny had watched his mother, his grandmother, and a host of friends and acquaintances leave the cemetery, headed to Casa Santos for a buffet and the comfort of each other's company. As he had watched the workers slide Pilar's coffin into the crypt, he had not noticed the stranger watching from a line of trees some distance away. The observer dialed a number on his cell phone, and waited while it connected. "It has been accomplished", the emotionless voice intoned. The recipient of the phone call smiled in response to what had been said. Replacing the phone onto it's cradle, he reached into his desk, and extracted a slim cigar. As he lit it, he sighed in pleasure that all had gone well. Now that he had her attention, phase two of his plan could begin.

As the marble door on Pilar's coffin was shut, Danny felt as if he were suffocating. The smooth line where the tomb was marked, now blended seamlessly with those of his father and his brother's. Her name plate bore testimony that she was truly there, and suddenly the reality was too great to bear. He found himself outside the crypt, dragging air into his lungs. He had to get away, and he began to run. He ran as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. He blindly stumbled over exposed tree roots, and past the tombstones of others' graves. Everywhere he turned, the angelic sentinels which dotted the cemetery seemed to mock him, and as his lungs began to burn and his muscles fatigued, he sunk down upon the grass, and he let his despair wash over him, it's endless tide, stealing his will to live.