Into the Light (4 page)

Now if only my memories would come back.

Sister Raquel removed something that felt like tape from my side, explaining that I had at least one broken rib. Then she fashioned some kind of covering for my cast that fastened tightly on my upper thigh. As she secured the material, I envisioned plastic wrap surrounding my leg. To prevent my leg from bearing weight, she directed my hand to a handle above my head. I guessed it was suspended from the ceiling. Holding tight, I was supposed to navigate on my one good leg; however, my underused muscles rebelled, cramping with each exhausting step.

I began to wonder if it was worth the effort until I sat on a plastic bench, she turned on the shower, and warm water rained upon my skin and hair. The clean scent of soap and shampoo filled my senses, washing away the musty remains of the hospital bed and tubes. Without thinking about the consequences, I opened my lips, filling my mouth with the water that continued to rain.

“Not too much, Sara; it wouldn’t be good for you,” Sister Raquel whispered, reminding me of the Commission’s decree.

After I rinsed off, she helped me out of the shower and dried my skin. She wrapped me in a soft robe as droplets of water continued to fall from my hair, and she said, “Your hair is quite pretty.”

I contemplated her comment and realized I couldn’t picture my own hair. By the way it clung to my back, I knew it was long, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t envision the color.

Would I even know my own reflection?
I was lost in thoughts of other things I’d forgotten when Raquel helped me into the wheelchair, handed me a toothbrush, and directed my hand toward a cup of water. Unsure what to do with the water, I hesitated, not knowing if it was a test, or if she wanted me to drink.

“If you’re all right in here, I’m going to leave you alone for a moment while you brush your teeth. I need to go back in your room and change your sheets. When I come back, I’ll bring a fresh nightgown.”

I nodded. The little bit of water I’d consumed in the shower had merely whetted my thirst. I wanted more. As soon as I sensed that Raquel was gone, I drained the cup and hastily refilled it. At the rush of the running water, a cold chill tingled down my spine. I remembered Sister Lilith and felt sure that if she heard, she wouldn’t hesitate to reprimand me for my blatant disregard of the Commission’s decree. Nevertheless my thirst prevailed as I drank another cup of water before brushing my teeth.

Sister Raquel returned and whispered, “Elizabeth just arrived. I’m pretty sure Sister Lilith is ready to go, but she won’t leave until she sees you again.”

My tired muscles tensed and the water in my stomach churned at the mere mention of her name.

“Don’t worry,” Raquel continued, “They’re both still in the hallway. We’re the only ones in here. Before I take you back out, I want to get you dressed and comb your hair, and I need to replace the bandages on your eyes. It’s not good for them to stay wet.”

I sucked my lip between my freshly brushed teeth to keep from speaking. She was going to remove the bandage around my head.
What if I can see? What if my eyes aren’t damaged? Then again, what if they are?

Raquel slipped a fresh nightgown over my head. Taking in the soft material, I felt long sleeves and buttons that ran down its entire front.

Whether from exhaustion or from being disconnected from the medicine, my fingers shook badly as I tried to fasten the buttons. The water I’d managed to drink sloshed violently in my otherwise empty stomach.

“Are you all right?” Sister Raquel asked as she reached out to stop me from falling forward.

I shook my head, perspiration coating my freshly washed skin.

“I was going to change your bandage and braid your hair, but let’s get you back to bed.” Concern laced each word. “I don’t want to be the one explaining to Father Gabriel why you collapsed in the bathroom.”

Father Gabriel? Wouldn’t she tell Jacob?

I heard the opening of the door and footsteps as Raquel wheeled me toward the bed. Though the footsteps sounded similar, they were different, letting me know that more than one person had entered my room. When my chair stopped, another set of hands helped me stand. I turned my covered eyes in that person’s direction.

“Sara, I’ve missed you,” the person said. It wasn’t Sister Lilith, which meant it must be Sister Elizabeth. “I’m so glad Brother Jacob called so I could come to see you.” From the location of her voice, she was taller than me, and by the way she held my hand and referred to me without the awkward title
Sister
, I got the feeling we were friends.

“I’ll inform the Commission that
she’s
doing better.”

Our reunion stilled at the sound of Sister Lilith’s voice coming from near the door. The way she referred to me made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Thank you, Sister Lilith, for staying until I could arrive.” Though it was polite, ice rolled from Elizabeth’s response. It seemed we all felt the same about Sister Lilith.

Sister Lilith didn’t respond, but I heard the door open and, eventually, the click-clack of her heels disappeared into the distance.

My nausea calmed a bit as I exhaled and settled on the clean sheets. Elizabeth adjusted my cast, putting pillows under my leg, while Raquel, on my right, reconnected my IV. The way they chatted felt familiar and safe. For the first time since I’d awoken from my accident, the atmosphere didn’t feel wrong.

Was Elizabeth my friend or, perhaps, a sister?
Do I have family, other than a husband? Do I have children? Are Jacob and I parents? How old are we?
My hand flew to my lips to stop me from speaking. I had so many questions.

As I rested against the pillow, their soft voices filled the once-frightening room with a feeling of friendship. My earlier bout of nausea had passed but the perspiration left me chilled. As if reading my thoughts, Elizabeth pulled the blankets over my shivering body. I managed a tired smile as the warmth enveloped me. Though I wanted to hear everything they said, in no time at all, their voices drifted away and sleep stole my first real chance for answers.

CHAPTER 4

Sara

A heated conversation infiltrated my dream, harsh words seeping unwontedly into the blissful scene before me. I tuned out the voices and inhaled the sweet scent of lavender. Step by step, I traveled across a purple-dotted meadow as tall grass brushed my bare legs. As I paused under the sun’s rays, my toes sank into the soft, cool ground and my skin radiated warmth. On the horizon, pink and purple clouds swirled together like paint upon a canvas. The brilliant sky was like a pair of blue eyes, shining with happiness.

The voice’s clatter wafted in ripples, small at first and only a word or two. But then it crashed like waves upon a beach destined to bear a hurricane’s wrath, each burst larger and louder than the one before.

I scanned the horizon in search of peace. The colorful clouds turned dark and ominous, bubbling and swirling above, changing the crystal-clear hues to varying shades of gray. I stood in awe of the building storm, while the wind howled and long hair whipped violently about my face.

The louder the wind roared, the more acutely aware I became of my impending doom. Panic swelled as strands of blonde tingled with electricity. Scanning in all directions, I sought shelter from the storm and then the harsh voices awoke me.

“I’ll need confirmation,” an unfamiliar voice boomed.

“You have it, from me,” Jacob growled. “Have you forgotten that I’m a member of the Assembly?”

“The Assembly is under the Commission. The decree came from the Commission.”

“Then call them. Ask! I stood before them and talked for nearly an hour. Father Gabriel himself gave the approval. I want food in here before she wakes. She hasn’t eaten anything in nearly a week. I’m not waiting any longer.”

“Calm down. You’re going to wake her.”

“I’m past calm. Tell me what she can eat.”

“If—”

“Not if,” Jacob interjected. “
What
can her body tolerate?”

“When I receive word that the decree has been lifted, we’ll need to start her with a bland diet: Jell-O, soup, rice. She could have some bread, but not too much.”

“Then go. Have it prepared. I told you the decree’s been removed. If you don’t believe me, call them.”

“I can’t question the Commission. It’s up to them to notify me.” The unfamiliar voice gasped, then pleaded, “No, don’t call . . .”

“This has gone on long enough,” Jacob said. His voice remained fierce but sounded more in control. “Hello, Brother Daniel. I’m with Dr. Newton. Apparently he hasn’t received the message regarding my wife . . . Yes, he’s here . . . I told him . . . Yes, let me hand him the phone.”

Jacob was arguing with my doctor? What kind of doctor was this? Surely there had to be more doctors in this hospital, people not under the control of the Commission.

“Hello, Brother Daniel?” Dr. Newton’s greeting came out more like a question. “Yes, I realize he is . . . Yes, I understand that the Assembly is a governing party and as a member his word is true. I wanted to be . . . Right away. Good-bye.” There was a pause, then Dr. Newton continued, “Brother Jacob, I’ll have Sister Deborah bring in food.”

Jacob exhaled.

The doctor’s tone became commanding as he moved closer to my bed. “You should wake her and take her to the bathroom. She’s no longer catheterized and can’t get out of the bed alone. That cast isn’t for walking.” There was a tug on my IV. “She’ll have one that she can walk on once I receive approval. I’ll return after she’s eaten. It’s past time for my exam.”

“Thank you.” Though the thunder was gone from Jacob’s voice, the storm was still present. “You should understand my insistence. I’m not losing her to starvation, not after all she’s been through.”

“I do, but you know that we all have rules. My oath is to help people, but I too have a family. Following decrees isn’t optional. We all know that.”

“Yes, we do,” Jacob said defiantly. “That won’t happen this time. I won’t allow it.”

The doctor’s words brought my reality back with a vengeance. I was at the mercy of these people, people I couldn’t see or remember. People with frightening tones, rules, and decrees. I clenched my teeth and searched my memories for anything. Anything to confirm that I belonged here, or anything to confirm that I didn’t.

Jacob approached, brushing my hair away from my forehead, and spoke. “I’m sure you’re awake. I don’t think even you could sleep through that.”

Even me? What does he mean?

I nodded. As his large hand lingered on my hair, I remembered part of my dream and wondered if my hair was blonde.

“Sara, the nurse will bring you some food. Dr. Newton wants me to help you get up before she comes.”

I reached up to my eyes. Though I felt the dampness of my hair, the bandages were dry.

“Sister Raquel replaced your bandages.” His fingers raked my hair. “But she couldn’t brush or braid your hair with you asleep.”

A lump formed in my chest. She’d changed my bandages and I’d missed it.

“I’m going to lift you from the bed.”

The blankets moved and cool air permeated my warm haven, but before the chill registered, Jacob’s arms cradled my back and legs. I winced as he lifted me. Pain emanated from my side. Sucking in a breath, I braced for him to set me in the wheelchair, but he didn’t. Instead he held me close and stepped effortlessly away from the bed. Reaching toward him, my hands spanned the breadth of his shoulders and came to rest upon his chest. Laying my cheek against his soft shirt, I inhaled the scent of leather and musk. With each step his scruffy chin brushed the top of my head. For only a second, something triggered a memory, but just as quickly it was gone.

We had apparently crossed the room, since Jacob said, “We’re in the bathroom. Raquel said you did well this morning, though I’m not sure how much of this you can do on your own.”

I reached up and pointed, hoping he’d see the handle that I’d used earlier. He must have, because he gently placed my good foot on the floor and directed my hand to the handle. At the thought of what I needed to do, blood rushed to my cheeks. I quickly lowered my chin, not wanting Jacob to sense my embarrassment. After all, he didn’t know that to me he was a stranger. To him we were married. He’d no doubt seen me naked many times.

His large hands framed my cheeks and lifted my face toward his. Though I couldn’t see him, we were very close. His warm breath tickled my nose, and his words were soft and reassuring. “I’d leave you alone for privacy, but the way you’re shaking, I’m afraid you might fall.”

I blindly lifted my face toward the handle. The apparatuses that held it in place clinked with my movements. I hadn’t realized how badly my hands and legs were trembling.

“Let me help you,” he offered as he released my face.

My trembling eased at his tone. It was as if he was asking instead of telling. Nodding my approval, I released the handle and placed my hands on his chest. Slowly he moved his hands to the hem of my nightgown. As he moved my gown slowly upward, his pulse beneath my hands quickened. Once the nightgown was above my waist, I felt his body stiffen.

I lowered my chin, unsure of what my expression revealed. There were too many thoughts trying to take root. Bewilderment and uncertainty swirled with embarrassment, yet they all seemed just beyond my reach. Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the task at hand. Jacob and I worked together in silence. He spoke only to alert me of our movements, which I appreciated. Each one, no matter how gentle he tried to make it, aggravated my tender side. With his alert, I’d bite my lower lip and hold my breath. It didn’t stop the pain, but at least I avoided wincing. By the time he placed me back in my bed, the telltale copper taste let me know that I’d punctured the inside of my lower lip.

Heavy silence loomed around us as we waited for my food. By the sound of Jacob’s footsteps and occasional sighs I sensed that he too was fighting a whirlwind of thoughts, though I doubted we were thinking the same things. With each passing moment, I contemplated my options. I wanted food, but I wanted more than that. I needed more than that. I needed to understand what had happened with my accident as well as what was happening now.

The questions weren’t only in my mind. They filled the room, swirling around us, taunting me. Like the faceless shadows in my dreams, they mocked me with the knowledge they refused to share. As time passed, I felt increasingly trapped—claustrophobic—as if I needed air.

What do I normally do for an outlet?

The answer washed over me with a cleansing release.

I run.

A strange sense of relief filled me as I closed my eyes and imagined paths and trails. It was so real. I not only saw the sun’s long beams dancing through the tall trees, I felt the warmth as I passed through the shafts of light and my feet pounded the ground. I pushed my body, exercising its limits. No longer suffocating in an unknown world, I was moderating my breathing, keeping my pulse steady as I gained the strength to continue. I never doubted my ability to keep going. The motion came naturally. Peering beyond the woods, I spotted the open meadow where a cool morning mist had settled near the ground. Inhaling the fresh air, I smiled at the dew glistening like diamonds in the early light.

I audibly gasped at the intense memory. My body tensed. I wasn’t there, I was here. However, what I’d imagined couldn’t have been a dream. The terrain was familiar, more so than anything around me. I tensed as Jacob once again touched my hair.

“Sara, are you all right? What happened?”

I nodded with newfound strength. I was all right. I would be. I had a memory, a real memory. Since I couldn’t tell him what had happened, I smiled and moved my head from side to side. I wanted to say that nothing was wrong. For the first time since I’d awakened in this unfamiliar world, something seemed right.

I concentrated on the images I’d created. Just like physically running, the thoughts relaxed me, easing the blanket of doubt and worry.

“I should look for your brush. Do you think you can brush your hair?” Jacob asked. “It’s unlike you for it to be like this.” With each sentence his fingers smoothed and caressed my long unruly tresses. Before I noticed he’d left, he was back. Placing a handle in my hand, he said, “You’re much better at this than I.”

Careful not to snag the bandages, I pulled the bristles through my hair. As I did, the floral scent of shampoo reminded me of the lavender flowers in my dream. I imagined the long blonde hair blowing in the wind and wondered if that was what I was brushing.

The length seemed right. It was the color that eluded me. Once silkiness replaced the tangles, I began to braid. The rote motion came without effort and resulted in a loose braid, beginning on my left and lying upon my right shoulder. As my fingers neared the end, Jacob placed a hair tie in my hand.

It was silly, only a braid, but my chest no longer ached. It was the first thing I’d done on my own. My hands remembered what to do just as my mind recalled running. It was only a start, but I clung to it.

When the door opened, my hunger woke with a vengeance.

“Place it over here,” Jacob directed.

Where’s “here”?

Tension returned to my shoulders as I pressed my lips together, suppressing the comments I instinctively knew wouldn’t be welcomed. This macho-man routine was getting old. After the door opened and closed, wheels moved against the floor. With this new sound, I envisioned a table, one that could move in front of me and over my bed. I reached out.

“No, Sara. You didn’t forget about blessing the food, did you?”

I had. It hadn’t occurred to me. Consuming it was my only thought.

I bowed my head as Jacob’s deep voice filled the room. He thanked Father Gabriel and the Commission for my food.
Really?
He asked God to use its nutrients to help me heal.
OK.
When he paused, I began to move, but then he spoke again: “Let this food be a reminder that privileges given can be taken away. Thank you for correcting my wife and reminding me of my role. We won’t fail you again, for we trust you and Father Gabriel in all things. Amen.”

I didn’t move. My hunger suddenly waned.

What does all of that mean? What correction? Is Jacob agreeing with Brother Timothy that my suffering is because I sinned?

“Sara,” he said, lifting my chin. “You need to eat.”

He was right. I needed to eat, get strong, and get away. This wasn’t right. Everything about this wasn’t right. In my heart I knew I didn’t belong here. I reached again for the tray. This time, wordlessly, Jacob captured my hands and placed them upon my lap. Apparently, just as with the ice chips the night before, Jacob planned to feed me.

“Open.”

At that first command, my teeth clenched. I understood why he’d helped me last night, I’d been weak, but now I was relatively certain I could lift a spoon and find my mouth. Nevertheless, with just one word, he’d made it clear: food was coming, but only through him. Unable to argue, I could still refuse.

Though I entertained the thought, when the spoon touched my lip, I did as he’d said and opened my mouth. Bite by bite, my anger faded as my stomach filled. The soup—more like broth—was my favorite. I may have even hummed after the first bite. Each time it hit my tongue I savored the warmth and flavor. Even with Jacob’s careful feeding, the salty chicken broth occasionally dribbled down my chin. The first time it happened, Jacob laughed. It wasn’t loud, barely a scoff, but it made me smile. I couldn’t remember my husband’s laugh. Since I’d awakened, I’d mostly heard his anger and commands. Surely there was more to our marriage than that. It wasn’t until the soup and Jell-O were finished that he placed a small roll into my hands.

“Here’s a little bread. You can probably handle this on your own.”

I nodded, rolling the bread between my hands, assessing the size. Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled the scent. When I placed it between my teeth, the hard outer crust gave way to a soft warm center. Each bite melted in my mouth as I sparingly nibbled. I didn’t want it to end, but as it did, I realized that it was the chewing I enjoyed as much as the roll. Deprivation formed the strangest needs. All too soon the roll was gone, and a straw appeared at my lips.