The woman’s cries had turned into whimpering after ten minutes. Elena had tried to comfort her but she also knew it was best to let her grieve in her own way. Death worked itself into hearts in various ways. There was never an antidote or a prescription or a suggestion that anybody could offer. Time was the only thing that worked.
She had never gotten to know Joe, even though she had seen him at church whenever she went. He had seemed like a nice enough man, but Elena also knew the pastor loved taking in troubled souls. Little did she think she’d witness him passing away in front of her.
The door opened and the doctor stepped into the room carrying a clipboard. He stared at the EKG monitor. Elena watched Dr. Farell to see his reaction, but there was nothing. No alarm or surprise at the silent machine, no disappointment at the flat white line, no sympathy for the woman hovering over the bed trying to control her emotions.
“How long since the code?” Dr. Farell asked her.
“Twelve minutes.”
He checked his watch. “Let’s call it twenty-one thirty-five.”
The doctor did his duty, recording the time on Joe’s death certificate. Elena felt so helpless, but there was nothing she could do.
“Cause of death: unidentified staphylococcus septicemia,” the doctor said out loud as he wrote onto the form. “Contributing causes: stage four prolymphocytic leukemia.”
Elena could hear the pen scribble the doctor’s signature. He then passed the clipboard to Elena and casually glanced over the still body on the bed. She could see Dr. Farell’s eyes land on the nightstand next to the bed and stare at it for a moment in disbelief.
She hadn’t noticed it before. There it was.
The wooden cross.
The doctor could only shake his head, then departed without another word.
The cross . . .
It felt like this thing had been following her around ever since they’d been given out. Following her either like some kind of stray puppy, or like some kind of storm clouds resting over her soul.
Just leave this woman to grieve.
She moved away from the bed and started to leave, yet something pulled her back in. Elena thought of Carlos for some reason. Seeing him walk away into the darkness, not turning around, refusing to stay.
She moved back toward the bottom of the bed so she could see the woman. Bloodshot and swollen eyes looked up at Elena.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she began to ask, but then she was cut off.
Cut off by the EKG machine.
No.
The sudden beeps made them look at Joe, and then the machine, and then back at each other.
That’s not right.
The woman looked at her with disbelief, with wonder at what was happening. But Elena didn’t know.
The machine went flat again.
Did we just see that?
They were both silent, looking at the massive, still body on the bed, white and gray stubble on his face, eyes closed. He looked content.
Then suddenly his lips moved.
No, no, what am I seeing?
A whisper in the deathly quiet room.
“For thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
Elena couldn’t breathe. Her body shook, her eyes unable to blink, her mouth suddenly half open.
Then the heart monitor spoke for them, with steady and suddenly loud beeps that kept coming and didn’t stop. One after another after another.
The woman kept looking at Elena, wanting and begging to know what was happening. She was speechless, her eyes filling up again. The color was gone from the woman’s face and Elena knew she probably looked the same.
All the signs. Every vital. Everything is just . . .
“Normal,” Elena said out loud to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
She swallowed and her mouth felt dry. Elena suddenly felt afraid. She couldn’t move and didn’t know what to do.
Joe’s pulse—it was steady. It was somehow strong.
There’s no way.
Then he opened his eyes. Joe opened his eyes. A dead man suddenly looking up at them.
Move—get the doctor. Do something before you lose him again.
But Elena just couldn’t for a second. She just—this wasn’t happening. She wasn’t witnessing this. Things like this did not happen today.
Joe just stared at them with a look of wonder and uncertainty. But he was indeed looking at them, his strong eyes moving from the nurse to his bedside friend.
“What—just—happened?” the woman asked both of them.
“Something pretty amazing,” Joe whispered.
This was enough to get Elena moving, shuffling out of the room and then tearing down the hallway to get the doctor.
She went to the nurse’s desk and told them to page Dr. Farell and asked where he might be and then she sprinted toward the stairs, knowing an elevator would take too long. She almost hit a patient slowly walking down the hallway and she apologized but didn’t stop.
Her skin felt alive and she still felt like she couldn’t breathe. A part of her almost seemed to fly down those steps as she turned the corner to take more of them.
What did I just see back there?
And the images filled her mind—the man talking, and the woman looking at Elena in awe, and then the wooden cross on the nightstand.
Could it be?
She hurled open the door and then saw the doctor near the elevator doors.
“Doctor, there’s something you need to see.”
Breathing heavily and finally stopping by him, she could see his annoyed, curious look.
“It’s Joe Philips.”
He gave her a nod. “The one whose death certificate I just signed?”
Elena had regained her composure. She stood upright and then gave him a very Dr. Farell nod, a yes of course and I know something you don’t sort of nod.
“Why?” the doctor asked. “Did I miss something?”
She laughed.
I think we both did. I think we’ve missed something for a long time.
“You could say that,” she said to him.
She knew there was only one way she could tell the doctor what was happening. She had to show him. Men like him wouldn’t believe otherwise.
People like them needed to be shown instead of believing.
I need to see Bobby. I have to talk to Bobby.
“Please—come with me,” she told the doctor.