Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (24 page)

D
ESPITE GETTING VERY LITTLE SLEEP LAST NIGHT
, I W
AKE UP FAIRLY EARLY
. I am so glad to see the daylight again, so relieved to have that long, dark night behind me. I get out of bed and immediately put together a plan.

First I call the hospital to ask about Sally and Meredith. The woman tells me that Meredith was released to go home last night. But she can’t tell me anything about Sally unless I’m immediate family. I consider lying to her, saying that I’m Sally’s sister, Betsy. But she probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. Besides, I really don’t want to be like that anymore. I want to put those things behind me. I want to change.

I wait until after eight to call Andrea. I know this is early for a Sunday, but I also know that her family gets up early since it’s their church day. To my relief, Andrea answers the phone.

“I’ve been praying for you and your friends,” she says after I tell her it’s me. Then I share the whole story of what happened last night.

“Wow. It’s good that you went back there, Reagan.”

“Yeah. Except that my friends, rather ex-friends, all hate me now. Well, I can’t speak for Sally, since she was unconscious. I still don’t know how she’s doing. The hospital wouldn’t tell me.”

“She’s probably okay,” says Andrea. “They probably pumped her stomach last night and she’s probably having breakfast by now.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“And I’m sure she’ll be thankful that you did what you did, since it probably saved her life.”

“She might be thankful for a few minutes. But when she realizes that I got us all into a bunch of trouble, she’ll probably be mad.”

“Oh, Sally has her faults, but I think she’s got a little integrity too.”

Then I tell her about how Kendra was totally furious at me. I even tell her about how I mentioned Lisa to her and she got even madder. “She probably thought I was blaming her for it.”

“There was a time when I blamed Kendra for Lisa’s death,” Andrea admits. “But I finally had to forgive her.”

“You forgave her?”

“God helped me forgive her. But I’m glad he did. Not forgiving someone is a real pain — not as much to them as it is to you. I think that’s one of the reasons some people are so mean. They need to forgive someone.”

I consider this but don’t say anything. I wonder if she’s talking about me.

“Now, feel free to say no to this, but I wondered if you’d want to go to church with me this morning.”

“Okay,” I say, surprising myself probably even more than her.

“Great,” she says. “Maybe afterward we can swing by the hospital and find out how Sally is doing.”

So it is that I find myself sitting in church with Andrea Lynch this morning. And, really, how weird is that? I mean, just last night I was at a drinking party with the “cool” cheerleaders and today I’m in church with Geek Girl. Okay, I’m not calling her that anymore. That is just plain mean. Still, it seems pretty ironic that I’m here right now. I wonder what Kendra would say.

Another weird thing is that I actually seem to get some of the things the preacher is saying this morning. Besides that, I suspect something very strange is happening
inside
of me. I get this sense that a very real spiritual presence is sort of nudging me, and I think maybe it’s God or Jesus or both of them combined. I still haven’t sorted out the exact difference between them. According to what the preacher’s saying, they really are one and the same. Still, I’m not sure about this. But I am interested.

As we leave, I tell Andrea that I kind of like her church and she seems pleased. And, thankfully, she doesn’t pressure me about anything. That’s such a huge relief. If there’s anything I really don’t need right now, it’s pressure. I feel like I’ve had enough pressure these past few weeks to last me a lifetime. Also, I have a feeling that it’s not over yet. Maybe it will never be.

After we get in her car, Andrea drives us to the hospital and I ask at the reception desk where Sally’s room is. But once we get there, we see that her family is with her, and although we barely get a glimpse into the room, it looks as if she’s still unconscious. She has some tubes and things sticking out of her body, and it looks pretty serious, pretty scary too. I’m just backing away from the door when her mother notices me. She immediately comes out, quietly closing the door behind her, and I brace myself, certain I’m about to be blasted for having been involved in the drinking party last night.

“Reagan?” she asks.

I nod without speaking.

“I thought that was you,” she says. “I’ve seen you from a distance at the football games, but I don’t think we’ve actually met. I’m Sally’s mother.” Then she sticks out her hand and shakes mine. “I want to thank you for calling the paramedics last night.”

I just nod, trying to think of something to say. “How is she?” I finally manage to ask.

“She’s still in a coma, but they’re doing everything they can for her.”

A
coma?
Somehow that possibility never occurred to me. But I’m so thankful she’s not dead. “I hope she’ll be okay.” I know that sounds lame, but I really do mean it.

“I’m sure she’s going to be fine,” she says. “But the doctor told us that Sally would’ve died if she hadn’t gotten medical attention when she did.”

I turn to Andrea now, taking a moment to introduce her to Sally’s mom, but it turns out they already know each other, back from middle school days. “The truth is,” I admit, “I actually left the party early last night, mostly because I didn’t want to drink. It was Andrea who helped me realize I needed to go back and make sure everyone was okay.”

Sally’s mom thanks Andrea too.

“I’ll be praying for Sally,” Andrea assures her.

“I appreciate that.” She pulls out a tissue and uses it to blot a tear.

I wish I could say the same, but I don’t even know how to pray.

We tell her good-bye and leave. Neither of us says anything as we go down the elevator, and we are both silent as we walk to her car.

“Do you think Sally’s going to be okay?” I finally ask as she drives away from the hospital.

“I don’t know,” admits Andrea. “It didn’t look too good. I plan to call our church and put her on the prayer chain.”

“What’s a prayer chain?”

“It’s a bunch of people who really believe in prayer. One person calls another, and that person calls the next, and before long, there are about fifty people all praying at the same time. We’ve seen some real miracles as a result.”

“Pull over,” I say, and Andrea immediately turns on her signal, then pulls over. “Please,” I say as I hand her my phone, “call them right now.”

So Andrea calls and starts the prayer chain. Then she hands the phone back to me. “We can pray too,” she says. And right there, parked on the side of the street, Andrea bows her head and begins to pray. And it sounds like she is talking to a real person.

“Dear heavenly Father,” she says, “we’re really worried about our friend Sally. Okay, to be honest, she’s not actually my friend anymore since she doesn’t like me. But I care about her and we used to be friends. Anyway, God, please, please heal Sally. Reach down and put your hand right on her, right now, and heal whatever isn’t working inside of her. Whether it’s her brain or her lungs or her heart or whatever, I know you know what it is that needs to be touched. I know you can heal what needs to be healed. But, most of all, dear God, please touch her heart and her spirit. Show her how much she needs you, and show her how you love her so much that you sent Jesus so that she could believe in you and never die. Please, God, do a real live miracle for Sally. Amen.” Then Andrea opens her eyes, puts her car into gear, and gets back into traffic.

As she drives across town, one line from her prayer keeps reverberating through my head. Finally I have to ask her about it. “Tell me about what you prayed just now — the part about how God loves Sally so much that he sent Jesus so that she could believe in him and never die. What does that mean exactly? How is that possible?”

“It’s actually really simple,” she says. “There’s a verse in the Bible — in fact, it’s the first verse I ever memorized, shortly after I gave my heart to God. Do you want to hear it?”

“Sure.”

“I originally learned it from my dad’s Bible, but that uses kind of old-fashioned language, so I put it into my own words. It’s John 3:16, and this is how it goes:
God loves everyone on earth so much that he sent his only son, Jesus Christ, so that anyone who believes in him will be saved — and they will live forever and never die
.”

“And that’s what you really believe?”

“I do.”

I consider this, weighing it against the fears I had last night when I was obsessing over life and death and feeling totally confused. And for some reason those words just really resonate inside of me. It’s like I really get it.

“So how would I do that?” I finally ask her. “I mean, if I wanted to believe in Jesus too. What would I need to do exactly?”

Andrea sort of laughs, but not in a mean way. “It’s easy, Reagan. But let me pull over up here first.”

So Andrea pulls onto a side street. “Do you want to pray with me, Reagan? Do you want to ask Jesus into your heart?”

I nod and she explains that she’ll pray the words and if I agree with them, I will repeat them afterward. “Basically, you just do it,” she says as she bows her head and starts to pray. I echo her words, actually asking Jesus into my heart.

I’m surprised at how simple it really is. And after we’re done, I feel this amazing sense of peace. “Wow,” I say as I open my eyes.

“Wow?” She looks curiously at me.

“Yeah, I think that took.”

She laughs.

“Seriously. I feel like Jesus really is inside of me now.”

“Cool!”

I lean back into the seat and let out a big sigh of relief. For the first time in ages — maybe the first time ever — I feel like I can relax. Like the weight of the world isn’t sitting on my shoulders. I tell Andrea this and she nods eagerly. “That’s because God wants to carry those things for you, Reagan. God wants you to talk to him and to tell him what’s worrying you or bugging you. And he wants to help you get through it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” She starts driving again. “You’ve just started what will be the most exciting journey of your life.”

She shares some more things with me and finally asks if I’d like to go visit Nana today. “I was planning on going,” she says. “We could go together, if you want.”

“Yes!” I say eagerly. “I would love to see Nana. Let’s go right now.”

So the two of us go into the nursing home together, and although it’s just as gloomy and smelly and dreary as the last time I was here, I no longer feel as depressed. I give Nana a big hug, but she doesn’t know me at first. She thinks I’m the nurse and asks me if she needs to take a pill. This makes me sad, and I realize it’s partly my fault for not having come for a while. It takes a couple of minutes before she remembers who I am, but then her face lights up in a smile.

“It’s my Reagan,” she says. “Where have you been?”

“Lots of places,” I say. Then I tell her all about how I just invited God into my heart and how happy I am about it.

“Yes,” says Nana. “Me too.”

“You mean you’re happy for me?” I ask, somewhat confused. As far as I know, Nana, like me and my mom, has never been particularly religious.

She nods, then taps her chest. “God is in me too.”

I glance curiously at Andrea and she just smiles. “That’s right, Ruth,” she says to Nana. “You did invite God into your heart, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Nana says proudly. “I did.”

“And have you been talking to God?” asks Andrea. “Have you been telling him how you feel about things?”

She nods. “He brought me breakfast.”

Andrea and I both laugh at this. Who knows? Maybe God did bring her breakfast. We stay for about an hour, but I can tell that Nana’s getting tired, and I tell her that we should go. Still, it’s so good to see her and I’m so glad that we came. I bend down and kiss her soft, wrinkly cheek, promising to come back tomorrow. Then she curls her fingers in that little wave of hers and we go.