Chapter Twenty Two

Nurse Johnson stood by the counter and recalled watching Henry earlier as he walked to the elevator, his right arm had lifted as if he were reaching out to someone beside him, holding their hand. It was unfortunate he came on the day Ms. Hamilton died and not sooner. It was obvious he loved her deeply. The sight of him kissing her so tenderly just before she passed away still sent warm shivers through her. Clearly, it was not just a kiss between friends, but definitely between two lovers. She still felt a little cruel telling him he had to go. He just sat and slept there for over an hour holding her hand as if he were trying to bring her back to life. What a deep love he must have had for her.

Oh, how we all search for love and when it is there, it is snatched away so quickly at times.

As she walked behind the nurse’s station, shaking her head she muttered, “It’s truly a sorrowful sight.”

Empathy and compassion were Nurse Johnson’s strong traits and why she was so well suited for the palliative care ward, but following through with the morgue and filling out forms when a patient died were duties she dreaded. Reluctantly she picked up the phone and dialed down to the hospital basement.

“Hello, John. This is Nurse Johnson from Five West. Ms. Marjorie Hamilton just passed away—oh really? That sounds terrible. No, I understand. Good. No, there is no hurry. That will be fine.”

Next, Nurse Johnson reached for the forms to write up her report on the circumstances surrounding Marjorie Jennifer Hamilton’s demise and also those required for the morgue. Ms. Hamilton seemed like such a dear sweet lady. Nurse Johnson wished she could have gotten to know her better.

“Oh, how I dread to fill out these reports.” Nurse Johnson got up and went to the staff room to get a coffee, finding any excuse to put off dealing with the matter for as long as she could.

A good half hour or so passed. Nurse Johnson filled out the necessary forms, had a coffee and a nice chat with the nurse’s aide on duty. Suddenly, a light flashed on the monitor before her from room 505, Ms. Hamilton’s room. Someone must have found her dead and was pulling the cord alerting the front desk.

“I already know,” muttered Nurse Johnson, as she got up and headed to Ms. Hamilton’s room. “Ms. Hamilton is my responsibility. I wish other nurses would just keep to their assignments.”

Nurse Johnson burst through the open doorway completely expecting to see one of the other nurses hovering over Marjorie Hamilton’s body. She was beginning to adopt her “head nurse” posture, as she gathered her resolve to emphatically state that she knew Ms. Hamilton was gone, when she stopped in mid-step. Her eyes opened wide, and her chin dropped to the floor as if she were seeing a ghost.

Sitting up on the bed, with the pillow propped behind her back, was Jenny. Her lack luster, lifeless eyes of just an hour or so ago now flashed and sparkled. She had the sweetest smile on her face. Incredibly, her yellow hair was fuller and longer. The bed covers were neatly folded on top of her legs and waist and her hands rested gently on her lap.

“I was wondering, nurse, could I please trouble you for a cup of chamomile tea?”

But, she couldn’t be alive. I watched her die!

“Are you okay nurse? You look very pale… and growing even more so. If you don’t feel well, I can do without a cup of tea. I assure—”

Nurse Johnson blinked her eyes several times and shook her head, making certain she was not dreaming. Finally, regaining some composure, she responded, “Are you okay, Ms. Hamilton?”

“Yes, I’m fine, just had a nice long nap and feel a bit hungry, as well. Perhaps, I should have my tea with dinner. I can wait until then.”

“No, no that’s fine. I’ll get you some tea, right away.” Nurse Johnson rushed towards the door just as the attendants from the morgue came in.

“So, where’s the corpse, Val?”

“Oh… no… not this room…”

“But I thought you said 5—”

“Ssssh,” Nurse Johnson whispered, putting her forefinger across her lips.

“Oh, did someone pass away?” inquired Jenny.

“Yes… I mean no—”

Nurse Johnson was so flustered, she didn’t know what to think or say. She shooed the attendants out.

“She was dead and came back to life!” Nurse Johnson exclaimed the moment they were out the door and out of earshot, her hands gesticulating.

Finally out of frustration, she motioned them to come down the hallway with their rolling stretcher where she could fully explain what she herself didn’t yet understand. All she knew was that first thing this morning, Ms. Hamilton arrived by ambulance. All her vital signs indicated that she was on the verge of death and would be so within the hour. They were going to put her on life support, but she had signed papers at the care home that indicated she did not wish to have her life sustained by any machinery or medication. Later in the morning, when Mr. Pederson came in, she passed away. And now she was alive and looked in excellent health and years younger!

About thirty minutes after Carey’s call for an ambulance, it arrived. Dianne heard the siren stop from her spot at the nurse’s station as she worked on the requisite paperwork on her desk.

Dianne looked up at the front door as it opened. She expected the ambulance attendants, but it was Tony, the care home’s custodian.

“Hi, Dianne,” said Tony, “Did someone get hurt? Why is the ambulance here?”

Since Tony was only beginning his afternoon shift, he didn’t know yet that Father Engelmann had passed away. Just as Nurse Frowler was about to explain what happened, they were interrupted by the ambulance attendants that walked through the front door carrying a stretcher.

“Hi, Tony,” Dianne finally said.

She didn’t know how to tell Tony, as he and Father Engelmann became very close friends during the past several months. Tony’s attitude towards the residents and his care for their quarters greatly improved since Father arrived, but then Father had that influence on everybody.

“Tony, I have some sad news to tell you. Father Engelmann has passed away. He is in the sun room. Would you mind taking the ambulance attendants to him?”

Tony looked at the nurse with a look of bewilderment. “What? Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not. I wish I could say I was,” replied Dianne, with a hopeful tone.

“Well, that’s impossible, Dianne.”

“No, I’m afraid it’s true, Tony,” Dianne replied, more firmly.

“No, Dianne, it’s impossible,” Tony repeated, just as emphatically as Nurse Frowler.

“What do you mean that’s impossible?” Dianne said.

“Dianne, I just saw Father walk out the door. I saw him get into a taxi. He was just leaving as I walked in. I even said ‘hello’ to him.”

Dianne stared at Tony. “Oh, Tony, that’s impossible. Father Engelmann is dead. He is in the sun room. We had a little prayer wake for him during the last hour and a half. I checked his pulse—”

“No, you’re kidding me,” Tony questioned, his voice rising. “I know what I saw, Dianne.”

Dianne was flushed and nervous. She didn’t want to continue this insane argument any longer.

“Look, Tony, just come with me and see for yourself.”

Dianne dropped what she was doing and marched down the hall towards the sun room. Tony and the attendants followed closely behind. Dianne turned sharply into the sun room and was instantly dumfounded, flabbergasted, so astonished, that she staggered backwards into Tony’s arms. The chair where Father Engelmann had been seated not less than thirty minutes ago was empty!

The ambulance drove at a normal speed, towards the morgue at the General Hospital. The guy they just took out of the rolled-over SUV was a goner, so there was no hurry to get him to the hospital. His days of rush and hurry are over. No need to speed and risk another possible accident. It was a good thing in a way, as they had time to stop and examine an elderly lady who had fallen. But she proved to be okay and so they continued on their way.

Normally, when the attendants picked up a dead body, they simply put the corpse in the back and both the driver and the aide drive in the front seat. In their haste to clear out and get the traffic back to normal on Hill and Elphinstone Street, Steve went into the back with the body and Doug jumped into the truck and, out of habit, sped off.

Doug was just thinking about the accident. How the moving van had hit that SUV and it rolled over several times. It was amazing that the driver of the Escalade wasn’t crushed in the severity of it all. He only had a slight red bruise on his forehead. That’s probably what killed him. A sharp blow to the head when the SUV rolled and the driver’s side slammed into the concrete road.

“Oh well, an autopsy will determine the cause,” he mumbled, as he fumbled for his cigarettes.

At that moment, his partner buzzed up to him.

“Hey, Doug, you’re not going to believe this. You better pull over. The guy who we just picked up at the accident, well, somehow he… he, has just come back to life.”

“Ah, come on, Steve, don’t give me the gears. The guy was dead, we both checked his vitals. Look, I’ve only been spooked one other time in my life like this. You can’t BS me.”

“Honestly, Doug. I’m not giving you the gears. He’s alive. Just listen.” He turned to Henry, sitting up on the cot. “What did you say your name was?”

“Henry Pederson.”

“Holy s_ _ _,” yelled Doug, his cigarette flying out of his mouth just as he was about to light it. “The artist? Henry Pederson?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Henry calmly replied.

“Geez, I’ve got one of your paintings in my house and my mother-in-law, she just loves your work. Steve, is he really alive? Is it really Henry Pederson back there?”

Both Henry and Steve were now smiling.

“Yeah,” said Steve, “He’s wondering if we can take him back to his gallery?”

Doug burst out laughing, “This is so bizarre, too funny for words.”

Steve looked at Henry, shook his head and then chuckled.

“Listen, Steve, we better take him to the hospital and make sure everything is okay,” Doug said, trying to resume some role of responsibility in all this.

“But he says he is fine. He looks fine to me, too. I checked his pulse and blood pressure and he’s very much alive and healthy. He had a serious bruise on his forehead, but I don’t see that anymore, either. I don’t understand what’s going on here, it seems like we must have missed his pulse the first time or some kind of a miracle is going on back here.”

“We better check him again at the gallery.” interjected Doug.

“Yeah, we can check him over again and make certain he’s all right,” Steve concurred.

Doug flipped on the siren and with a chuckle and a burst of exuberance in his voice he exclaimed, “This is one time I don’t mind turning on the siren. Let’s get this guy home.”

The blip and sound on the screen monitoring Peter’s heart was so strong it startled the nurse. She turned to Peter but his face was covered by the sheet. Florence quickly made her way over to him and once again picked up his wrist fully expecting not to feel any pulse.

She was wrong!

She immediately felt a pulse and then another much stronger than the one before. The beat was accelerating so rapidly Peter’s body began to shake and he abruptly sat up throwing the sheet off him. His eyes popped open and grew wide.

It was like a bolt of lightning was surging through him. Florence tried to pull her hand away from Peter’s wrist, but was unable to. The electrical charge zooming through Peter’s body kept it stuck. The charge was now flowing through Florence’s body, shaking her as well.

Angie and those in attendance looked on in awe, their eyes and mouths wide open. The power of the Holy Spirit was so strong in the room it was palpable.

The blip on the monitor was racing up and down across the screen with blitzing speed; its sound deafening. Suddenly the monitor flashed with glowing sparks and went out. An eerie silence followed. Everyone turned to Peter…

Was Peter healed?