The Long Flight Home
      Chapter 12
 

I cannot find my way: there is no star
In all the shrouded heavens anywhere;
And there is not a whisper in the air
Of any living voice but one so far
That I can hear it only as a bar
Of lost, imperial music, played when fair
And angel fingers wove, and unaware,
Dead leaves to garlands where no roses are

No, there is not a glimmer, nor a call,
For one that welcomes, welcomes when he fears
The black and awful chaos of the night;
For through it all-above, beyond it all-
I know the far sent message of the years,
I feel the coming glory of the Light.

A. E. Robinson




As the SICU team worked on Michelle, she felt herself lift from the confines of her broken body and she hovered above her bed looking down upon the calm and efficient hospital staff, with a certain feeling of detachment. She saw her body arch as the electricity from the defibrillator paddles sent a shock through it, but strangely, she felt nothing, only a lingering sense that this might be the end of her earthly life. There was regret, but no fear, or pain. She heard the sobs of Abby, dear, sweet Abby. Michelle was happy that Rick had found someone as true and loving as her with which to spend his life with. She would miss them, but she knew in her heart that they would go on, and that they would draw from each other's strength's to see them through this time.

She thought about her father, Ed. She was so thankful that she had gone to Europe to spend time with him these last two months. For the first time in her life she had felt as if the pain of her mother's death had been erased in the presence of their maturing relationship. Michelle had been able to look beyond her father's betrayal to the tremendous guilt he still carried with himself these many year's later. She felt saddened though, that he had never been able to forgive himself for his weakness and human frailty. Michelle was sure that her mother would have wanted her father to forgive himself too, but sometimes, Michelle knew that pain was sometimes a greater balm to the ravaged soul, then was an individuals ability to move beyond it. It took such great courage to meet yourself at the most base level, and Michelle knew her father was too untrusting of his own goodness to ever do that. Oh, but she would miss him.

She thought of Jesse and Drew as she watched her body lift again in conjunction with the next jolt of the paddles. There was still no response on the monitor, only a flat line to indicate that her heart had stopped beating in this world. She truly hoped that Drew and Jesse had a wonderful life filled with babies, and joy and laughter. In the end, Jesse's disloyalty really didn't matter to Michelle anymore. She was glad that he had found the love he had been searching for, for so long.

She also hoped that Bill would find peace in her passing. He had come to visit her in the SICU, and she had felt his sadness. She had wanted to reach out to him, and let him know that she was safe, but the reality of her situation would not allow that, so instead she had embraced his pain, holding it close to her heart.

Lastly, she thought of her mother. She had glimpsed her in her dreams. She meditated on her often, her most poignant thoughts of her causing an aching void deep within her. Her reflections on her mother always ended in feelings of loss. She had never been able to fully accept the reality of her death. She had never had the chance to say good-bye, and she was so looking forward to greeting her mother, embracing her for eternity. She would not only feel her presence, she would be in her presence.

Michelle looked on as another jolt of electricity caused her frail body to arch in response. It didn't look as if they hospital staff were going to win this battle to save her life. She did not want them to blame themselves. They had done everything possible, but her body was tired, and it wanted to rest. The anguish on Rick and Abby's face caused her a moment of regret, but then it slipped away so fast, she wondered if she had really felt it at all. A peace that surpassed all of her understanding was beginning to permeate throughout her body, it's warmth spreading outward from her heart, until she felt as if she were part of the very make-up of the vibrating air around her. She felt her body changing, as if she were losing form. Looking down at herself, she seemed to be shifting from substance to light, a light of such clarity and depth that she suddenly understood everything, her beginning and even her end.. As she looked at dear Rick and Abby one last time, she felt a love that transcended her earth bound limitations. She smiled for this gift of love, and gratefully moved towards the arms of heaven's embrace.

From the depths of his pain, Danny's soul cried to God. "Oh God, how could you abandon me? How could you take all that I have ever cared about in this world away from me? How could you leave me so alone? What will I do now? How will I live? How will I breathe? How will I ever see again, when I feel so blind? Tell me, damnit, tell me what to do?" Raising himself up onto his knees, his fists still clenched, her railed at God. Looking up into the sky, a feeling of utter desolation swept through him. He was always in control. He never dropped his guard. He kept his heart protected. Now, though, all control had left him, all sense of who he was, and what he was had gone. He was left, empty, filled with such an intense pain, he wanted to be released from it. A cry of agony was torn from his throat and in that moment he felt his soul leave him, his goodness, and his light lost to a burning tide of anger and bitterness. He lay down again, his legs folded under him, his head bent to the ground, his hands clenched in the raw earth, trying to keep himself hanging onto what little humanity he had left. The wind whipped around his inert form, a maelstrom of leaves and dust and pain.

She observed him from above, his suffering in grave contrast to the peacefulness that sat upon her like a soft mantle. She witnessed his bleakness, and wished that she could infuse him with the love that she felt herself encircled with. She did not want to see him endure such pain. She loved him so much and wanted to take his grief away. He above anyone else deserved a life filled with beauty and joy, not guilt and remorse. He had already given so much of himself, that there was nothing left for him to give. She would do whatever she could to make sure he was taken care of now. She would never leave him again. She reached a hand towards him in entreaty, but he neither felt her presence nor heard her whispered "I love you" borne on the sweeping arms of the wind.

"Come on Michelle, don't give up on us now! You can win this battle! You can, you hear me?", Dr. Robison spoke to her urgently as he readied himself to shock her body once more. "You've got people here who love you, and commitments to keep. I'm not going to let you give up! Work with us, let us help you", he entreated. Michelle smiled as she turned to go, her physical body nothing but a lifeless shell below.

"Michelle, please don't go", an unfamiliar, yet at the same time familiar voice spoke to her. She felt it resonate within her.

"Who's there", she asked, tentatively?

"You know who I am. Search yourself to find me. Michelle, you have to help him. You alone must reach out to him. You must save him from himself, from the demons that chase his soul, from the pain that has destroyed him. Please, you are his hope!"

Michelle stopped, the last plea like a roar in her ears. "I am his hope? Who's?" Why, me?" She wanted answers, but all she heard was the same plea over and over. "You are his hope! You are his hope! You are his hope!" The petition became louder and more urgent.

"I am his hope", became a mantra in her head, and suddenly she knew who's voice spoke to her. "Where are you Pilar? Why can't I see you? Who must I help?

"Michelle, I am in your heart and in your mind. I am in the wind that blows and the sunlight which shines upon your face. I am the soft star that shines at night. I am closer than you will ever know, and only you can help him."

"Whom must I help Pilar? Why am I his only hope?"

"He has lost his way Michelle. He is drowning in his own uncertainties and fears. He feels that love has left him, that goodness no longer exists. I knew from the first moment I met you, that you had the ability to love deeply and strongly. He needs your goodness, and your light. Please help him before it's too late."

"Before what's too late Pilar?", Michelle pleaded, but she was met with silence. In that exact instance she saw the face of Pilar's brother, Daniel. She suddenly knew who needed her. This was the face that had haunted her dreams. His was the touch that had comforted her and had made her feel whole. What had happened to him? What had caused him so much suffering? She saw him clearly then in her mind, his face, etched in grief, somber, as he had been in her dream of the carousel. She ached to reach out to him, to touch him, to hold him, to heal him with her love.


From somewhere, Michelle began to feel a buzzing in her ears, and her limbs began to burn. She felt shocks of electrical charges chase up and down her arms and legs, and her spine. She began to feel heavy, her limbs leaden. Her heartbeat once again became loud in her ears, it's staccato pulse deafening her. She felt herself being pulled back towards her body, the tug of her mortal life, strong and unceasing. She felt an overwhelming agony, so great, that it stole her breath away. "This must be what the pain of the world feels like, she thought fleetingly, as she continued her headlong rush towards her physical body. The peace of earlier was becoming but a memory, and as she felt her spirit connect with her body, and overwhelming sense of loss assailed her.

"We've got a pulse", a nurse shouted! The heart monitor showed activity, tremulous at first, then gaining in strength. Suddenly, the sound of Michelle's heartbeat was heard on the monitor, and it was the sweetest music that anyone in the room had ever heard. Dr. Robison stepped back, wiping the sweat from his face, his body trembling in the aftermath of what had just transpired in this room. He had felt Michelle leave, and knew that death had won once again, but then he had felt the necessity to will her to live. He'd felt a presence, urging him, driving him to try to save her. There was no way that he could take responsibility for this miracle. In all of his day's as a physician he had never fought so hard for a patient. He looked towards Rick and Abby, tears glistening in his eye's as he watched the hope surge anew within them. Leaving the crash team to finish, he motioned for Rick and Abby to join him outside her room.


"Thank You Jake", Rick spoke huskily as he gripped the hand of his friend. You didn't give up, and words can't express he way I'm feeling right now. Hell, I don't even know how I feel. The last few days have been unreal, you know?" Rick was babbling, but he couldn't stop himself. All of his pent up fear and frustration was spilling out of him. He felt like he was losing control, and he welcomed the release. Abby held his arm tightly, willing him to hold on for Michelle, and for herself.

"Michelle is far from out of the woods yet, but I'm hoping that her rally is a sign of the strength of her will to live. Her body is weak, but obviously, it is not beaten. It's still going to be an uphill battle, you understand, don't you?", he asked. Rick tried to answer, but couldn't. Abby spoke softly, saying that they understood, and asking Jake what the next step in Michelle's treatment was.

"Right now, just keeping her stable is our main concern, but we're hoping to get a handle on her lung infection, and whatever others are threatening her. Of course, we still have the matter of her other injuries to take stock of, but we know what course of action to take with them. In the meantime, we watch her closely, and frankly, we pray, OK?" Both Rick and Abby nodded, too consumed by emotion to answer. "Michelle is strong. I felt something happen in there as I worked on her. At first she slipped away from me, but then, the last time I used the paddles on her, I felt a strength from her, urging me on. I can't explain it, but it was as if she were directing me. I feel that she wants to live, now we just need to keep providing her the proper care to accomplish that. I'll do everything in my power to make that a promise to you, OK?", he intoned. "Right now, I think it would be best for you two to go get something to eat or drink, and to rest." Rick made a movement to say no, but Jake halted him. "Rick, I promise you I'll get word to you if I have even the slightest inclination that Michelle is taking another turn for the worse. You've been through a lot this evening. When Michelle wakes up from this coma, she's going to need you and Abby's strength to lean on", he implored.

"Can we see her first, once more, before we leave", Abby asked.

"Of course you can see her, but don't wear out either her or yourselves. Even though she's in the coma, we don't know what is really going on in her head right now. Just take it easy, OK? You are both holding up amazingly well through this ordeal, and I don't want to have to add either of you to my patient list".

Hugging Rick and Abby, Jake strode away down the corridor, somehow strengthened in his belief that Michelle would pull through this. He had felt the divine as he had worked on her, and he knew he would never forget that feeling for the rest of his life. He turned back to watch Abby and Rick enter Michelle's room, praying that they found peace amidst this turmoil.

Danny managed to stumble to his feet. Darkness and cold had seized him, holding him in their grip. A keening noise had driven him to stand upright but he couldn't define what or where it was coming from. As it grew in strength, he turned first right, then left, trying to identify it. He stood still, looking into the gloom, the specter of night sweeping over the cemetery. The lengthening shadows cast ghostly images wherever he looked. He listened again intently, the wind distorting the source of the sound. He thought he had heard a woman's soft sobs, but that was impossible, he hadn't seen anyone else since Pilar's service had ended. Shaking off his feeling of unease, he walked back through the graveyard the way he had come. As his strides ate up ground, he was assailed again with the feeling that he wasn't alone. "Get a grip Santos", he told himself harshly.

As he reached his Mercedes and moved to open the door, he couldn't help but look back towards the family crypt. Where before, he had felt intense pain at knowing that Pilar was entombed there, now all he felt, was a numbing ache . Opening the car door, he folded his long frame into the seat. He didn't bother to put on his seatbelt. He didn't need to worry about his safety, he was already dead to this reality. As he started the engine of the car, for a split second he thought he heard again the soft cries of a woman, her sighs somehow familiar. Shaking his head to banish the ridiculous turn of his thoughts, he stepped hard on the gas, moving swiftly along the winding road of the cemetery, his taillights casting an eerie glow to the murky darkness.

As she watched him leave, she knew he had heard her softly weeping, aching for his pain. She knew also that he had felt her presence. She was in accord with her surroundings, yet she still felt that she had yet to finish something in her ephemeral life. Perhaps that is why Danny had heard her, had felt her. She knew also knew that she had reached Michelle in the void between this world and the physical one. She knew with absolute certainty that these two were meant to be together. She had to see to it that they were there to heal each other, to become one, in heart, spirit, and mind. She would make sure that they had the chance to live, that which had been denied her. Perhaps, this had been God's divine plan after all, and she was the instrument by which that plan would be accomplished. As Danny's car turned out of the gates of the cemetery, she palpably sensed the hardness of his heart, and prayed it was not to late to save what little faith he had left.