Lost Soul (7 page)

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Authors: Kellie McAllen

BOOK: Lost Soul
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As he paced, the doors opened and a group of medics rushed in, pushing a stretcher with a tiny bundle in the very center.
 
“Baby Conrad,” the senior medic called out as the doctors and nurses approached, “the mother gave birth at home, unassisted, then passed out.
 
Infant was found unconscious, umbilical cord wrapped around his neck restricting airflow.
 
Lack of oxygen estimated at around 3 minutes.
 
Child was unresponsive…”

Michael gasped as he realized this was Karen’s baby.
 
But where was Karen and her husband?
 
And where was Falla?
 
Hadn’t Emit assigned him to Colby when Michael had refused?
 
Michael’s horror knew no bounds.
 
Had his rejection caused this terrible trauma to an innocent baby?
 
Surely the Master wouldn’t have left Colby unprotected just because Michael refused to guard him.

A stretcher carrying an unconscious Karen arrived next, but there didn’t seem to be as much urgency around her.
 
The nurses took over her gurney and wheeled her to the elevator, presumably en route to the maternity ward.
 
Michael stayed with the infant as the doctors treated him, but the tone of their voices held little hope.
 
Michael’s world swirled around him in a crushing vortex as he acknowledged the truth of the situation.

Colby’s brain was damaged from lack of oxygen, his body a useless weight over which he had no control, all because Michael had refused to accept his original assignment, insisting instead on guarding Jessica.
 
But Jessica was hurt, in pain and terror; he had failed her also, choosing instead to gratify his own desires.
 
He was no better than Falla had been, and possibly worse.
 
At least Falla had completed his training and accepted his own assignment.
 
Michael hadn’t even done that.
 
He had disobeyed the Master at every turn, insisting he knew better.
 
Yet look where it had gotten him.
 
He sagged under the crushing weight of his own despair and crumpled to the ground.

He lay there, mourning his own failures, wallowing in his own pain, till he lost track of time, but his grieving was interrupted before it was satisfied.
 
The shining luminescence that heralded a visit from Dominion Emit shadowed him like a beam of sunshine and he slowly opened his eyes.
 
He expected a sentence, a revocation of power, or even a punishment equal to the pain he had caused, but Dominion Emit didn’t even offer a lecture to the heartbroken angel.
 
All he did was stare at Michael, a sad look on his face, as he waited for Michael to say his piece.

“I’m sorry, Emit.
 
I am so eternally sorry.
 
You were right all along.
 
I have no business being a guardian.
 
I’ve failed my charges, I’ve disobeyed God.
 
I’m not worthy to be called a guardian.
 
I know that now.
 
I’ll return to heaven immediately for restitution…if Jehovah will still have me.
 
But I understand if he won’t.
 
I deserve whatever punishment he decides.
 
I know that.
 
Even if it means that I’m….damned,” Michael admitted, dropping his head so low it almost touched his lap.

Emit’s eyes melted with sorrow and sympathy as he stared at the broken angel in front of him.
 
His wings reached to cover them as Michael wept in Emit’s arms.
 
When his sobs finally quieted, Emit pulled him up and looked into his eyes.
 
“It is good that you have seen the error in your ways, young Michael.
 
You have learned a great lesson today, one that will hopefully guide you through the rest of your years on earth.
 
Your assignment is not over, as you presume, though.
 
The child needs you more than ever now and it is the Master’s wish for you to assume your rightful duty.”

Michael stared at Emit in confusion.
 
He couldn’t possibly be serious?
 
How could the Master ever give him another chance after what he had allowed to happen?
 
Michael gazed in awe at the forgiveness evident in Emit’s eyes, forgiveness that had been granted by the Father.
 
He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he clung to it helplessly, like a man adrift in the ocean clinging to the last scrap of wreckage that could hold him afloat.
 
Michael pulled himself up, still staring into Emit’s gentle eyes for support.
 
He would accept this offer, this undeserved second chance.
 
He would do the Master’s bidding this time.
 
He would not allow himself to sink any deeper into the pit of despair that threatened to steal his soul completely, he thought, as he clawed his way to the precipice and climbed out into the sunshine of Emit’s outstretched arms.

Michael headed towards the NICU where Colby’s fate was being decided.
 
He steeled himself as he passed by Jessica’s room.
 
He could hear her whimpering as the doctor examined her wounds.
 
She was in pain and frightened, but her wounds would heal and her fear would subside and her life would continue, with or without Michael’s interference.
 
He couldn’t save her even if he wanted to.
 
He understood that now.
 
All this time he had been fooling himself into believing he was protecting her, but all he was really doing was satisfying his own selfish desire to be with her.
 
Now he knew that if he really loved her, he had to do what was best for her, even if that meant leaving her.
 
He closed his eyes as he passed.
 
He couldn’t bear to say goodbye.

Surely the budding friendship between Sarah and Karen would survive this.
 
Maybe when Colby was out of the woods and safe at home, Sarah and Jessica would come visit him.
 
Michael would see her then.
 
No goodbye was necessary if she would still be part of his life.
 
He clung desperately to that assurance.

As he entered the room where Colby lay, a new resolution firmed his step.
 
No more selfishness, no more following his own path, no more conceited self-righteousness.
 
From now on, he was the Lord’s servant, following the Master’s orders as if Colby’s life depended on it.
 
He would not stray from the path set out for him.
 
He would not allow himself to be distracted by his own personal whims.
 
He would do everything in his power to make sure that Colby never suffered another second of pain.

As he peered into the incubator, he was overwhelmed by the amount of tubes and wires attached to the tiny infant and he wished he knew exactly what the prognosis was.
 
It would probably be hours before Karen was well enough to come see him.
 
Maybe the nurses would take Colby to her?
 
And where was the father?
 
He had never met Mr. Conrad.
 
Had he stayed home with the other children?
 
Surely he would want to be here with his wife and newborn child.
 
Michael could only speculate while he waited for someone to say something informative.

While he sat, his mind reflected on his time with Jessica.
 
The days flashed by one by one, each one holding a precious memory, and his heart warmed as he relived each one of them.
 
It seemed like his entire life had been about her, even though their time together had actually been very short.
 
He had been drawn to her from the first moment he saw her, and the bond had become unbreakable.
 
Would he have felt the same way about Colby, he wondered, if he had waited for him?
 
Right now he felt compassion for the boy, and intense guilt of course, but he wasn’t drawn to this child like he had been to Jessica.
 
He didn’t feel the same overwhelming love for him that he felt every time he thought of her.
 
Perhaps it would just take time to develop, he hoped, but it was hard to imagine himself ever loving anyone as much as he loved her, no matter how much time they spent together.

When Calvin Conrad entered the room, it was immediately obvious to Michael that he was the boy’s father.
 
With his thin build and bronze hair — currently in disarray from running his anxious hands through it —he was an adult-sized replica of the Conrad boys.
 
The nurse who led him to his son tried to hide the pity from her face, but the dolefulness of the situation was obvious in Calvin’s.
 
His features twisted in grief as he stared at the tiny body of his newborn son.
 
Colby’s deficits were not obvious, but someone must have already informed Calvin of the prognosis.
 
Michael wished he had been there for the explanation.
 
He had no idea how bad it actually was, he had only his own pathetic knowledge of human anatomy to ascertain the amount of damage several minutes of oxygen-deprivation could cause.

“Can I hold him?” Calvin asked nervously, not sure if he trusted himself or not.
 
Colby looked so frail behind all that accoutrement.
 
The nurse nodded and slowly extricated the infant, careful not to disrupt the lifelines.
 
Michael’s heart broke all over again as he watched Colby’s father cradle his son’s limp body in his arms and weep.
 
After a few minutes, Calvin gently laid the boy back in the crib with a sigh.
 
“Where’s my wife?” he asked.

The nurse pointed him towards the maternity ward which he had no trouble finding. He had been there many times before, but never with such conflicting emotions warring for his attention.
 
Michael stayed with Colby as Mr. Conrad left to find his wife.
 
He desperately wanted to hear their conversation, but he would not leave the infant’s side.
 
He would find out soon enough all the repercussions of his actions, but for now he would simply concentrate on making sure Colby stayed alive.
 
He settled in for a long night, ruminating on his failures and longing for Jessica.

chapter seven

The next day brought a flutter of activity as Colby received one visitor after another.
 
First, there were the myriad of doctors and nurses who stopped by to check Colby’s vitals and monitor his feeding.
 
Colby was apparently not capable of suckling from a bottle or his mother’s breast, so a feeding tube had been inserted.
 
Michael watched the life-giving elixir course through the clear tube with revulsion and he prayed that eventually the child would be able to feed himself.

Mr. Conrad helped his wife make the short trek from the maternity ward to visit her son and the two commiserated as they took turns holding him.
 
Michael could see their affection for him shining through every action, undampened by his deficits, and he was relieved to know that at least his failure had not deprived the child of love.
 
They oohed and aahed over him like any happy new parents would, but an undertone of sadness shadowed their every word.
 
Their happiness was limited to the pleasure of the moment, as they could not foresee the path that lay ahead.

Later, Karen returned to the NICU, this time with another woman.
 
Michael presumed it was her sister since they shared the same brown hair and freckled features.
 
Debra tried to hide her concern behind her smile, but Michael could tell that she was overwhelmed by the severity of Colby’s condition.
 
Her hesitation was obvious when Karen tried to encourage her to hold him.
 
She couldn’t see past the tubes and wires.
 
She didn’t stay long, claiming she wanted to get back to the house to watch the other children so Calvin could return to his wife’s side.
 
Karen could sense her discomfort but was just happy she was willing to help.
 
Despite the similarities in their appearance, Karen and her sister couldn’t be more different. While Karen was content to stay home with her husband and raise her five children, Debra had always been a wild child, more interested in adventure than settling down.
 
Karen wasn’t sure Debra could handle watching four kids by herself, but she knew her boys loved their Aunt Debbie, so she hoped they would listen to her.
 
Karen conceded that ice cream and candy might be effective bargaining tools in Debra’s authoritarian arsenal and she gave her sister permission to employ whatever strategies were necessary to control the rowdy mob.
 
Giving Karen a gentle hug, Debra scurried off, happy to leave the depressing hospital ward in favor of the lively troop of nephews anxiously awaiting her arrival.

Karen stayed at Colby’s side and Mr. Conrad returned a short time later, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.
 
He kissed his wife and peeked in at the tiny infant.
 
“I expect our children to be thoroughly spoiled by your sister by the time you get home,” he announced, plucking the baby from the clear plastic box and cradling him gently in his arms.
 
Karen nodded with a smirk.
 
“It was really great of her to come.”

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