Seasons of Heaven (2 page)

              After several minutes he realized that it must have been a crossing. The sunlight continued to splash rays of light and warmth across his face. He glanced around again, still wondering, about everything. As his eyes once again scanned his environment, he spotted a blue backpack sitting on the armchair in front of him. It had two small wings on each side of it and it seemed familiar to him, so much so that he leaned forward in the seat and took it into his lap. Letting his face rest onto the side of it, he inhaled deeply. He recognized the smell of it, and he instinctively knew that it was his backpack. He unzipped it and looked inside. He could see a leather bound book, tied closed with an old and frayed shoestring. He reached in and took it out, recognizing it at once as his scuffed up old journal.

Yann brought that to his face like he did the backpack. Smells were suddenly important to him, comforting somehow. He inhaled the fragrance of the old leather…and something else…a former life perhaps? He must have had a life before the train, but try as he might he couldn’t recall it. He knew that was strange and that he should be afraid, but still he only felt harmony and tranquility in his heart.

He slipped open the journal, hoping to find a clue as to where he came from, where he was, and where he might be going. As the pages fell open a photograph slipped out. Yann leaned forward to retrieve it and the sight of it was like a magic portal into a sliver of his closed off memories. The photograph was of Yann, he recognized it as himself right away. His companion in the picture was a cute, black French bulldog. Yann smiled as he looked at it. He felt his heart swell and he knew at once that the dog was Ani. He also knew beyond a doubt that Ani was his best friend in the whole world, and his number one adventure companion. Why he remembered that and nothing else he didn’t know. Maybe that was what was happening here. Maybe he and Ani had gone on an adventure….but then where was the dog?

No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t grasp any other memories. They were there but they were like the reflections on the lake, floating past too quickly for him to grasp them. When he reached out for one it caused the surface to ripple and the image to dissipate. He had the deep impression of having lived a life that was far from ordinary, the feeling that there was something very special about it. He frowned then but not because he was sad. The sun had gone higher in the sky and its powerful rays were assailing his eyes. His eyelids fought to protect them, half closing and trying to block them out.

He looked back out on the landscape. The train had taken him further now and the air was no longer silent. The breeze forced a path through the green fields they passed and caused them to shape-shift into an edgy deep green sea that went on for miles. He looked back at the picture in his hand. It was the only thing familiar here, and the only thing that made sense.

“Where am I going, Ani? I feel like I just woke up from a deep sleep and I don’t know where I am, or what I’m traveling towards. Should I be afraid? I wish you were here with me, it would be nice to rub my hand across your short, soft coat while I figure this all out.”

Yann leaned back against the big seat and closed his eyes. Like a movie, playing against the wall of a dusty old building he saw dim flashes of life. They were pictures of colors and lights and shadows and shapes of people, but everything was out of focus. There was nothing tangible there, except Ani. He could see Ani over and over as if the dog was embedded into each reel of film. Opening his eyes, he said aloud again to the empty car,

“Where are you, Ani?” He turned his head this way and that, but there was no sign of his friend. Finally, with a detachment that he didn’t comprehend he stood up and slid the blue pack over his shoulder. Maybe the answers he was seeking were here, on this train.

He started towards the back of the car, where the door was and he was startled suddenly by the loud whistle. It was different this time, so loud that it sent a quiver through Yann’s small body. He could feel the train slowing down and he wondered if they were going to stop. Maybe they had reached their destination, wherever that may be. He went again to the window and this time instead of a lovely slice of nature, he saw an empty platform. It was lit eerily by a single streetlight and adorned only with an old clock that didn’t seem to be working. There was no one on the platform, just as there was no one with Yann on the train.

Nervously, he moved towards the door. He pushed it open and looked around…still there was nothing. He stepped down onto the weathered wood of the platform. The heavy door of the train closed behind him and he heard the loud whistle once more just before it began to move again, slowly dragging its heavy cars behind it. He turned and watched it go, wondering why he’d been left here, and feeling confused again.  As the train cars slipped past him, he thought he saw the images of people inside, shadows of strangers looking out the windows, seeking the same answers that he was. That couldn’t be possible though, since he had been the only voyager on board. His eyes must be playing tricks on him.

He turned his attention back to the empty platform and train station before him. It was definitely deserted. Yann was the only one here. He walked across the platform hearing the lonely echo of his own footsteps. He came to the end of it and looked out to see that the platform sat alone on top of a hill and miles of breathtaking landscape stretched out before him. He stood there for a while, enjoying the gorgeous views in spite of the strange situation. His senses seemed more alive somehow like each color, smell and feeling touched him in a deeper place than it had in his former life, wherever that life may have been. When he was able to tear himself away from the spectacular art of Mother Nature laid out before him for miles, he turned again in a wide circle, scanning his surroundings once more, looking for a clue as to which way he should go from here.

“Yann,” he heard the voice calling out his name and looked around. It was soft and soothing; almost melodic, and it was distinctly female.

“Who’s there?” he asked, clutching his backpack close to his body. “I can’t see you,” he said. Yann was startled by the voice that came from nowhere, but still not afraid.

“Follow me,” the voice said. “Yann! Follow me!”

“Okay,” he said, instinctually knowing that she meant him no harm. Her voice only served to solidify his feelings of peace and security. “But I can’t see you,” he said, unsure how to follow her.

“That’s okay,” she said. “Just follow the sound of my voice,” she sang out. Whoever “She” was, she must be familiar with him and his situation because she said, “Be patient, Yann. Soon you’ll get the answers you seek.”

Yann believed her and he did as she asked. He stepped off of the platform onto a cobblestone path. He walked along at a steady pace until he came to a huge meadow that had grown tall with soft, green grass and a splash of pink brought about by the stunning round flowers growing wild across it. Yann was overcome by a desire to run through the grass and roll around in its soft shoots, so he did. He danced and flipped and ran, the way that children should, breathing in the rich aroma of the flowers and all the glory of nature that surrounded him. This was a magical place; he could feel it.

He sat down into a deep patch of the grass and then laid back and spread his arms and legs swinging them back and forth tamping the grass down and making the outline of an angel. He had his eyes closed, intensifying the experience of it all when he heard a sudden roaring sound. It was a sound foreign to his ears and he whipped his eyes open and stood up just in time to see a majestic herd of tigers coming towards him. He stood watching in reverence as their orange fur and black stripes cut a path through the green grass and pink flowers. His breath was literally taken from him by the sight and he once again knew that he should be afraid. He should worry they were coming to maul him. But he knew that somehow he was blessed to be a part of something so grand that it was rarely, if ever witnessed by human eyes. Yann smiled because in his head he could see what the tigers were trying to tell him clearly…they were happy now. He may have stood there watching them all day but he was reluctantly pulled from the sight by another sound. It was a loud whirring and flapping sound, like that of a hundred helicopters firing up for flight all at once. He looked towards it, above and behind the tigers and his eyes were treated to yet another spectacular sight. A huge flock of flamingos flapped their long wings and flew over the heads of the majestic tigers. Their pink wings and bodies were a sharp contrast to the pale blue of the sky and Yann found himself mesmerized by the scene as it played out before him.

CHAPTER TWO

“NIGHTMARES”

NEW YORK CITY, HOSPITAL

The operating room was cool, as always. They kept it that way on purpose because germs loved a warm environment and had a much harder time living and multiplying in the cold. The small patient lay on the operating table swathed in sterile drapes. The large lights that hung above the table illuminated him; helping the surgeons to do their job and also reminding them that this patient was currently center stage. Shadows weren’t allowed in the operating room. Everything had to be bright and clear…one mistake could result in the ultimate cost…someone’s life.

There was a big machine and a cart that resembled a tool chest at the head of the table. The anesthesiologist stood there next to them, monitoring each breath and each beat of the patient’s heart.  Next to the operating table was another small, stainless steel table that held the instruments necessary for the doctors to do their jobs. They’d all been sterilized and chosen for this specific operation. Behind the anesthesiologist was a heart/lung machine whose very presence signified the severity of the issue the doctors and nurses were here to tackle.

The patient had a probe attached to one of his tiny little fingers called a pulse oximeter. Its purpose was to continuously monitor the oxygen in his blood. Another was attached to his chest with sticky pads and colored wires, that one monitored his heart and breathing rate, and an automatic blood pressure cuff that was wrapped around his skinny right arm inflated at regular intervals to measure his blood pressure. All of these safety measures had been put into place before the surgery had even begun. The highly dedicated and professionally trained team had scrubbed their hands up to their elbows and donned gowns, gloves and masks before entering the sterile room. In hindsight, there had really been no reason for anything to go wrong…. But it had…so terribly wrong….

The vascular surgeon wore light blue scrubs. He was easily distinguished from the other five members of the team, their scrubs were green. The surgery had been going on for a long time already. The nurse that stood next to the surgeon wiped away the sweat from his brow, not just for his comfort, but the patient’s safety as well. If anything, even a drop of sweat disturbed the sterile field; it could cause a chain reaction that could end in tragedy. Ultimately, the dangers of contamination were going to be the least of their worries.

The lead O.R. nurse could see in the surgeon’s eyes that something was dreadfully wrong. She whipped her head quickly towards the monitors and then her eyes landed on the face of the anesthesiologist at the head of the table. She wouldn’t have had to see the monitors after she saw his face to know they were in trouble. She looked from face to face at the rest of the team and she could see the sheer panic in each of their eyes. They had all spent years training not only to save lives, but to remain calm under pressure that sometimes pressed so hard they felt like they were being crushed underneath it. No one said a word and the medical staff acted as if it were business as usual. The only sign that this moment was going to ruin or change any number of lives was the looks in each of their eyes. The gentle beeps of the monitors and the rasping of their own breaths were the only sounds in the cold room.

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That light is so bright. Why are they shining it in my face, and why is it so cold in here? All I can hear are sounds of metal clinking against metal and something is beeping and clicking. There’s a man standing over me in a white and blue paper shirt with a blue mask covering his face. He looks familiar, but I can’t seem to place where I’ve seen him before. It’s strange, but I don’t know if I’m asleep, or awake. I feel like I’m floating and for a few seconds, I feel like I’m actually suspended in air above the table. I’m above all of the people who are still gathered around the table, looking at the body lying there unmoving…I realize all at once that it’s not just any body, it’s my body. I begin to ask why I’m here and my body is there when swiftly and without warning, I am sucked back into it.

While I was up there, away from the table and floating above the five people who still stood around it, I was able to quickly figure out where I am. I’m in an operating room and these people around me are doctors and nurses. I had figured out where I was, but I had no idea what I was doing here and I don’t know what they’re doing to me. I want them to stop and leave me alone, and I tried to tell them but I can’t seem to form a sound. Or am I forming sound and they just can’t hear me? That light is so bright, so intense…. why are they shining it in my face? I can’t keep my eyes open…it hurts. I tried blinking rapidly but that didn’t help. I was busy fighting the light, trying to shut it out when I felt myself lifting off the table once more. I looked down and I could see me there, still on that table, surrounded by doctors and machines. I’m just above the doctor’s heads now, I think. I reached out and try to touch one of them but it seemed like I misjudged the distance. I felt like I was ten stories high, yet I was still in the room.