Sunday, November 11, 2012

MISTER Chapter V

Chapter 5 - 1976

            “If you won’t let me in as her friend, then let me in as her pastor.” That couldn’t have been Mister’s voice I heard - dad told me a long time ago, in a fit of rage, that I wouldn’t be seeing Mister again, accusing me of being ‘too attached’.  After Lisa was gone, and I was prevented from seeing the Beals, life melted into days, weeks and months of gray -  an endless procession of time I wouldn’t be able to recall for the lackluster quality of it all, until about three weeks earlier, when I began getting very bad pains in my stomach. 
I was sick for two days until one evening when Dad came home early from work, called a friend and drove me straight to the hospital.  In and out of consciousness, I had no recollection of how I got from the emergency department to my present bed in a room with a scary lady who had her jaw wired shut from a bad car accident, but I heard Dad telling anyone and everyone that I would have died of a ruptured appendix if he had not come home early that night.
             Maum had stayed home with me one day, but threw her hands up in the air, complaining that I wouldn’t eat the soup she brought to me, shut my bedroom door, and didn’t check on me again.  She didn’t come to the hospital to visit me, either, but that was just fine as far as I was concerned, because Dad was blaming her for neglect and I felt sorry and a little fearful for causing her so much trouble with him.
            Now, my mind must have been playing tricks on me.  I strained my ears, listening, hoping, praying I would hear Mister’s voice and see him walk into my room.  Nothing.  Five minutes, or was it an hour, passed with no more indication that he was in the hospital.  Feverish from a second infection, my heart was crushed, and I was hotly angry with myself for getting my own hopes up.  My eyes fluttered and I began to nod off...
            A warm, calloused hand lightly brushed my cheek.  Parting my eyes, I saw him standing next to me,  his fedora pinched between his finger and thumb in the other hand.  Tidal waves of relief, love, happiness and joy crashed over my soul, and I weakly said, “Hi”, as though it hadn’t seemed like a lifetime since I had been ripped away from him.  A nurse nervously flitted around the room muttering that my dad had specifically prohibited visitors unless he gave prior approval.
            “We’ve been thinking about you and pray for you every single day, Elizabeth.  How are you feeling?” Mister crouched down to my level, and I found myself lost in his kind, concerned eyes.
            “I’m ok, but I’ve been here for a long time and I get shots three times a day in my legs, see?” I moved just enough blanket to uncover a spot on my thigh that was filled with pinholes.  I didn’t tell Mister that they ran out of room on my backside, which was why they had to find other places to give me antibiotic shots for the peritonitis that still raged in my system.
            We talked about anything and everything and my weary, raw heart beat a little easier for the first time in a long time.  I watched his face, drank in his smile, and bowed my head in reverent thankfulness as he prayed over me.
            “Remember, Elizabeth, the Heavenly Father loves you and He has a plan for your life.  There is nothing too hard for Him.  Jesus said, ‘Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world‘, and even if we don‘t see each other as much as we‘d like to, no one can keep you from Him.”
            “Am I interrupting something, here?” Dad marched into the room and stood on the other side of my bed. “How are you, Earl?”
            “I’m here visiting Elizabeth as her clergy today.  I heard from a friend that she has been here for a few weeks.” Mister was polite, but he stood tall and confident.
            Dad gently smoothed the hair back from my feverish brow, and I peeked out the window, my head feeling strange and uncomfortable at his touch. “Elizabeth needs her rest, and I want what’s best for her, so it’s time you should go.”
            Mister brushed his hand across my arm, sending comforting warmth through me.  “Remember, we love you and are praying for you.” Stepping past my father, he smiled back at me, positioned the fedora slightly askew on his head, and was gone.

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