Wings of Deception (5 page)

The night was almost gone. Four or five people were still there with him. One of the ladies from church worked in the ER and had called her husband and several people showed up. Now they were waiting to see if the baby would survive. Six weeks too early and weighing only
three
pounds, the doctors said the first twenty-four hours were critical. The thought of the baby without Kim caused his stomach to lurch and he briefly thought the baby would be better off joining its mother in death. Shame flooded him as he repented for having such a thought and when they allowed him to see
her;
he knew he was grateful to have this baby that Kim and he had made together. Reaching his gloved hand into the incubator he rubbed the tiny little arm, which was not much bigger than his finger.

  By mid-morning, Kim’s parents arrived, their grief so apparent that he pulled himself out of his own depressed state and tried to give them some comfort. At first, they blamed the pregnancy, but the doctors assured them that the weak vessel Kim had in her stomach would have ruptured sooner or later with or without a baby. It was little consolation to them but they too turned their minds and prayer to the infant girl who was fighting for the life her mother so longed to give her.

     Kim’s funeral came and went. Finally even Kim’s and his parents had to return to their respective homes and lives, leaving
Dwight
to bring home a now healthy four-week-old baby girl. 

    He named her Gem. It was the name Kim was adamant about, be it boy or girl. He placed her in an all pink and white crib, sat in the rocking chair Kim so carefully picked out and he cried.

When there were no more tears to come, no more questions, nothing more than resignation that the rest of this life would be without Kim, he reinforced his belief that God was not an unjust God. He knew that she lived on in God’s heavenly dimension. He also knew that knowing this would not soften his grief, but it would get him through it and help him be strong for his baby girl.

It was that first night
the baby was home
that he dream
ed
about Kim. She stood by his bed looking so full of love she glowed all around her body. Behind her, a string of stars that so amazed him that he rose from where he lay and followed as Kim went from their room to the room where little Gem lay sleeping soundly. She turned to look at him and he whispered,

“I will always love you Kim and I know I will see you soon.”

She smiled as she stepped backwards no more than three steps and it was as if she stepped through a wall that was not there and was gone from his sight. However, the star lights she left behind formed into the one word.
Ditto.
He watched, not taking his eyes off them until the last one disappeared. How long that may have been, he had no idea, and after they were all gone, he sat in the rocking chair where he awoke the next morning and knew her visit was no dream. Kim had come to say good-bye and give him the closure
of which
her death had cheated him of.

                                                                       
THREE

“
G
o away! Leave me alone!”
The moans were followed by, “Jesus! Help me please, Jesus!”

    The words woke the woman from the nightmare she was having. Her short curly hair was clinging to her forehead and neck, wet with perspiration. Her mouth was dry. Reaching for the lamp, relief flooded her being as light flooded the room. Emptying a glass of water
that was
on the nightstand, she still needed more. Shaking from the horror of the nightmare, she took the glass into the kitchen, filled it, and
drank thirstily
.

    Her thirst satisfied, she went back into her bedroom and climbed under the covers leaving on the lamp. Each time the nightmare came, it was the same, and she would wake only when she called the name of Jesus
out loud.
This did not make sense as she quit believing in Him about the time she realized Santa Claus did not exist. She remembered th
e
time well for it was the year she
started school
.
The same year
Bea had
…
died.
Clenching her teeth, she squeezed her eyes shut as if she could force
old
memories not to come. They came anyway, cruel and treacherous, taunting her, daring her to remember. The same old insecurities always followed the
nightmares
.

She lay awake until dawn
terrified of the thing that always tried to kill her in the dream
. A
Psychotherapist
for disturbed adolescents, she often explained away monsters in the night for them
,
but her own she could not.    Her name was
Honey
and her life was good. It was not always so, for
she
spent
her childhood
in a dysfunctional family,
result
ing
in a too early marriage, which ended seven years later.
At t
hirty
-
seven
she
was d
ivorce
d
,
and dealing with the worst
circumstances that surround
it,
falling
into a depression not easily
overcome
.

However,
Honey
was strong and the fact that she did not attend a church or believe in Jesus, no way meant that she did not believe in a ‘higher’ power. She did, for she supposed one must believe in something. She was just far more concerned about teaching others how to make the world a better place to live in
than who it might be
. Her thinking was that if people would forget religion and concentrate on helping each other
it would be much more profitable than building the great big fine buildings all over the world and calling them God’s houses. Better to put all the money to work saving starving children all over the world.

She pulled herself together and moving west to Arizona
,
she went back to college earning her degree
and working with the state for several years before moving back to Mississippi. Her parents were no longer living and her two siblings were gone as well. Her sister committed suicide when she was only ten and her brother was killed in a car accident before he turned twenty. She felt lucky to be alive
,
coming
close to death more than once.

She
was well established at the mental health clinic in Philadelphia
, M
ississippi
now
. She loved her job and she loved her life. Everything was good, except now for th
e
dream. She lay thinking,
why won’t
it
go away for good and leave me alone?
There were several months between them, sometimes years. This time it had been at least five or six years and she had almost forgotten
it
. They were the main reason she studied Psychology, hoping to rid herself of insecurities brought about from such a trauma
filled
childhood. She felt sure this was the reason for th
e
m. She thought if she could come to understand the workings of the mind
,
she could abolish the nightmares altogether. Not so, for now after all th
is
time
, it was back to haunt her.
It was the third time in
less than
a week.

    She turned from one side to the other
,
waiting for day to break.
It is almost daylight. It never comes in the light, always darkness. I can sleep
, I need to sleep
and when I wake back up I will think about it then...when I am rested.

Knowing that she had no appointments until one in the afternoon, she closed her eyes and a deep sleep engulfed her consciousness and she slept a dreamless sleep.

Light streaming in through the window, the sun caressing
her
face
,
Honey
Magill slept until it was almost noon.

    However, she was not alone. There was
a
seven-foot presence in the room with her, but he meant her no harm.
His name was
Ragas. Over the years, he had watched over her, sometimes with delight and
sometimes with sadness, but always with admiration. The first years
,
she called him her special friend but as her spiritual eyes gradually closed he became a vague memory.

As
he was thinking back on the young and innocent
Honey
,
he watched the present one sleep peacefully.
Ah, little children who see and play innocently with their angels. Such is the Kingdom of Heaven!

    Ragas, well aware of her struggle, s
tood with his senses tuned to detect the slightest
disturbance.
H
is fine linen clothing seem
ed
only an extension of his body. His
dark
hair hung to his shoulders
having
a slight wave
,
his eyes a flashing brown with
gold
rings
.
As her guardian angel, he had the authority to protect her from evil and he took his position seriously.

   
His charge
stirred and then slowly began to
a
wake
n
. Ragas silently stood guard as she hurriedly went about preparing for
the
afternoon, for the morning was gone.

  Practically shouting into the phone when it rang,

“Betty
….
please keep my one o’clock there. Blast it, I am running late but no more than five minutes
!”
She hated
being late
.

“Yes, that is fine and no nothing is wrong
.
I just overslept.
I am on my way now!
”

    Tugging on a shoe, she placed her cell phone into her jacket pocket. She reached for her purse and keys, heading for the door. It was after she started the car that she remembered the file she needed. Blast it again, she had to have it. She had not even looked it over last night and it was a new patient she was seeing at three. Usually
,
Honey
was not one to wait until the last minute, but who knew she would sleep all morning? Still murmuring to herself, she raced back into the house, grabbed the file and was soon on her way to her work place. Her nightmare shoved to the back of her mind as she hurried to her job.

    The one o’clock appointment was with a fourteen-year-old girl. The
m
other was waiting impatiently and brushed off
Honey
’s apologies with, “I don’t know why you people can’t keep your appointments on time. It’s not like I don’t
got
other things to do. I really don’t even think you’re helping our Kelly one bit,
but the Judge says she’s got to see
you
so…are you
gonna
be through in an hour or not? I got my hair appointment while she is here.”

    Finally, the
overdressed and
overbearing woman paused to give an irritated
Honey
a chance to speak. Keeping a calm aura about her
self
she forced a practiced smile she did not feel.

“I am so sorry to be late
Mrs. Purser
and I am also sorry that you cannot see the progress I have made with Kelly. I think she is doing much better coping with her problem and yes, we will see you in about an hour. If possible, I would like to
have
a few minutes
to speak
with you, so please come in when you pick her up. Kelly, let’s go to my office
,
dear and
you can tell me all about your week
.”

    She dismissed the mother by turning
her attention
to the daughter. Sometimes she wished the judges would order therapy for parents too. She sighed as she led the way into her office, which resembled a comfortable living room. She
provided
a more casual atmosphere to help make her patients feel at ease. It worked and as she and Kelly settled down for a nice long chat, Kelly never noticed the recorder, which supplied
Honey
with the means to make notes when she was alone.
A pen and notebook tended to make children less talkative so she never used one in her sessions.