Taking Angels (The Angel Crusades) (3 page)

A different dream came that night, replacing the
happy ones. Blurry images at first, it gained clarity as it
went. A woman screaming in terror ran from something
unseen, unable to escape. Pain gripped me, threatening
to tear the heart from my chest as her life was ripped
from her.

The guilt of being alive washed over me as I woke
with a feeling of dread. The woman’s death felt so real it
weighed heavily on me. The thought of seeing each
morbid detail of her demise terrified me. Her last
moments played out before my eyes; something not
meant for my eyes, the feeling of intruding almost as
strong as the horror of witnessing her final breaths. The
strange odor of lilac permeated my senses. Gasping for
air, I looked around the room for its origin, but the room
was empty of any kind of flower. With a hand to my
breast, my heart finally slowed enough that I wasn’t
afraid it might pound from my chest. I slid back against
the pillows and stared out the window at the pre-dawn
blackness. How could a dream feel so real?

Depression threatened to win when they wheeled
me down to the bone marrow procedure. Lying as still as
possible while they drilled a needle into my bone, I
fought to keep the image of the dying woman from
washing over me, consuming me. Pressing hard, I
brought forth the images and voices of the angels. As they
came into focus it gave me something happy and
promising to concentrate on.

Arriving back at my room, my strength drained
from me, I slid into bed in a heap. It was late evening
when I woke, having slept the entire day.

“Welcome back,” Dad said, sitting off to one side
in an overstuffed chair.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Nearly eight hours. You obviously needed it.”
“Where’s Mom?” I looked around the room.
“She went to get something to eat.”
“You could have gone with her. I’m a big girl.”
“You’ll always be my little girl, no matter how old
you are.” Dad smiled as tears glistened in his eyes. “I hate
sitting by and watching them hurt you.”
“Doctor Morgan said I needed to do it.”
“Knowing you need to do it doesn’t make it any
easier, does it?”
“No, not really. Does it for you?” I asked.
“Not in the least.” Dad shook his head. “What the
hell happened up there, Britt?”
The question caught me so off-guard that I gasped
and held my breath as my mind raced to figure out how to
answer him. Exhaling, I shrugged.
“I don’t know. One minute I was going over the
falls, and the next I was in an ambulance.” I couldn’t tell
him the truth. Even Dad would think me certifiable if I
started talking angels.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you.” He choked up
and the words came out in a weak rush.
“I know, Dad. It isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have
insisted on going in the water so close to the falls. It’s my
fault.”
Our eyes met and in that split second, he
reconciled his uncertainty about the truth of what
happened. A spark of realization twinkled in his eyes and
he knew. He knew I did it on purpose. His face lost all
expression and he gave me a curt nod as he stood.
Walking over, he bent down to kiss me on the forehead.
He backed away just far enough for our eyes to meet
again.
“I will never, ever, stop loving you until the day I
die. And I will do everything in my power to keep you
safe.”
“I love…” I began, but he interrupted me.
“Don’t you ever, I mean ever, try something like
that again. Do you hear me?” The tone of his voice and
the intensity in eyes left no doubt how deeply he meant it.
“Not on my watch.” He straightened and walked from the
room as I gave an uncontrollable shiver. I’d never seen
him like that before. It was the closest he had ever come
to losing control with me. Note to self: never get him any
closer.
After eating a late dinner I fell asleep again,
completely forgetting about the nightmare from the night
before until the next nightmare had me.

A man sat in his recliner watching the Twins when
he came into focus. He dosed lightly and turned in my
direction just as his eyes shot wide. He opened his mouth
as if to speak, but only cries of pain came out. The pain in
his eyes turned to distant a stare as his lungs heaved once
more and then went still.

I woke with a gasp, sitting up straight, looking
around the small room. My parents slept on the two
couches, undisturbed by my abrupt movement. Leaning
back I felt the sweat, cold and wet against my back, had
soaked the sheets and made me shiver. My nose crinkled
at the residual smell of lilacs. Moving the bed to a sitting
position, I searched the room for the lilacs but again, they
weren’t there. I sat staring at the sun coming up through
the window, another day of testing and another life taken
with me as witness.

Later, lying on my stomach as they drew spinal
cord fluid from me, I cried uncontrollably. Unable to
draw on the strength of my happy dreams, the nightmares
took control and flooded me with sorrow. The surgical
team thought I cried from the pain and gave me
morphine, but it only made me loopy and more fearful
that the dreams were actually real. I didn’t remember
getting back to my room, too drugged up on the
morphine, but woke later that evening. I had to stop
losing days like this; I needed to get out of here and on
with my life, whatever that entailed.

As if reading my mind, Doctor Morgan walked in,
pulling up a chair between the couch my parents sat on
and my bed so we all could see him. He held a thick
manila folder and flipped it open as he crossed his legs.

“Good evening.” He looked from my parents to
me.
“Isn’t it a little late for you, Doc?” I asked, never
recalling him being in to see me so late.
“I thought we could speak tonight and get you on
the road early tomorrow.”
I smiled, staring excitedly at my parents who
mirrored my happiness.
Nodding to Doctor Morgan, I waited for him to
continue.
“We’re at a loss. The doctors going over the test
results, as well as the techs administering the tests, have
never witnessed anything like this before.”
“What is it?” Mom asked, leaning closer.
“Britt, you are the healthiest we’ve ever seen you.
Your lungs are now the lungs of a healthy eighteen year
old. Your liver, shutting down before the near drowning,
is healthy. Your brain tumor is gone. Not only is the
cancer gone, but every evasive procedure we did on you
is already healed completely with no signs of it ever
being done. It usually takes weeks to heal from the
insertion points for the bone marrow and the spinal tests,
but it’s like you healed as soon as the needles were
withdrawn. There was no bleeding, no seeping; nothing.
The techs reported they couldn’t even see where they had
pulled the needles from seconds after the fact.”
We sat in silence, staring dumbfounded as the
doctor expressed his surprise and shock.
“The most confusing thing is there are no signs of
any kind of trauma to your body at all. Even past
surgeries, injuries, everything that was well documented;
you no longer show any signs of damage. As a matter of
fact, your appendix is back and healthier than ever.” He
threw up his hand in exasperation and the documents flew
into the air, cascading to the floor.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“You live. Go live your life and take it where it
leads you. I don’t get to say that often, but I want you to
experience everything this life has to offer, Britt.
Somehow, for some reason, you have been given a new
lease on life, and you need to grasp it with both hands and
hold on tight.” He stood, leaned down to give me a hug.
He shook Dad’s hand and gave Mom a hug. “Have a
good life,” he said with smile and walked out the door,
leaving the file of my past life lying on the floor.

We pulled into our garage late one evening two
weeks after leaving for the BWCA, exhausted but
optimistic by the prospect of a future, something I had
long given up on.

“Get to bed,” Mom told me as we hauled
ourselves from the vehicle.
Pulling my backpack from the rear seat I headed
upstairs. Swinging the door open, I flicked on the light.
The room was the way I left it, everything in its place,
except for some flowers and balloons on my desk by the
window.
I dropped my backpack to the floor, walked over,
and opened the card grinning.

My ‘three amigos’ never let me down. I set the
card on the desk, flopped onto the bed still in my clothes,
and fell asleep in seconds.

The dream came with horrifying vividness. This
time I chased someone running, trying to get away from
me. Of that I had no doubt. He came to a dead-end, brick
walls surrounding him and only one way out. Looking
back into my eyes, he reeled in fear. Someone stepped
between us, someone light and airy, almost not there at
all. He put a hand up to stop me. I laughed, but it wasn’t
my laugh. A stranger’s hand reached out from my body,
grasping the airy person by the neck. He screamed in
pain as the person against the wall behind him cried out
in agony. Both fell silent, the airy body hanging limp in
the outstretched hand. It flowed into the hand, losing its
shape; its identity. I looked back at the person leaning
motionless against the brick wall, his eyes open wide,
terror still stretching across his face.

I woke with a scream, Mom holding me, pulling
me against her chest.
“Britt, Britt, it’s alright, it’s going to be alright,”
she soothed, caressing my head, rocking me back and
forth.
My nose crinkled as the tell-tale smell of lilac
intruded on my senses again.
At eighteen, it should have felt uncomfortable;
embarrassing, but the terror racing through me kept me
grasping her, pulling her closer, needing her comfort and
protection. It took over an hour for the shaking to stop. I
sat wrapped in my comforter, legs crossed under me,
determined to get control back before turning off the
light. Mom sat with me until I nodded at her questioning
look and she stepped out, closing the door behind her
with one last worried glance, the lights still on.
The dream felt so real. I didn’t understand at first,
but comprehension eventually percolated to the surface.
Maybe it
was
real. I pulled the covers closer as the
shivering started again; the vision of the man in the alley,
his eyes focused on mine, coming back to me. The horror
in those eyes were burned into my memory, etched there
for all time. And that smell of lilac. Ever since it came to
me at the waterfall it wafted to me after every bad dream.
Why?
The sun shone through the window across my
face, waking me as I leaned against my headboard, still
sitting up. I straightened my legs, cringing as the tingles
felt like needles across my shins and through my feet. A
dream, that’s all, I kept telling myself trying to
rationalize, to convince myself. But this dream freaked
me out. The chill running up and down my spine coupled
with the tingling in my legs made my skin burn as if on
fire.
The clock on the nightstand showed ten and I slid
out of bed staggering over to the window to look out at
the large oak tree to one side of the house and the quiet
side street. I grasped at their normalcy needing them to
anchor me, ground me from the craziness of the dream;
much like I did many times after therapy pushed me
down threatening to take control. The tree and street
brought me back to my reality like beacons showing me
the way home, giving me comfort.
I closed my eyes and pulled the most exciting
thought I could to the front of my mind. School started in
a week. I felt amazed to have the opportunity to be there
for my senior year. After so many years of sporadic
attendance, along with private tutors when the chemo and
other treatments became too overwhelming, the idea of
attending school brought me joy. Though the thought of
spending my days in school with my friends, doing the
kinds of things every senior in high school did, felt
bittersweet if it meant my nights were going to be filled
with terror.
I hobbled over to the long mirror on the back of
my bedroom door as feeling eased back to my sleeping
legs. I stared at myself with continued disbelief. My hair
was growing like crazy. In the past two weeks it went
from nothing to shoulder length. And where it used to be
dark brown, hearly black, it was now golden brown.
My breath caught in my chest as my happy dream
came to mind. My hair matched the color of the angels’. I
ran a hand through the silky locks and smiled. My skin,
still slightly pale in the sunlight streaming through the
window, was the only remnant of the sickness that racked
my body for almost four years. The rays shone on my
handful of the now golden, thick hair. And my eyes stared
back at me, bright blue. That still freaked me out, almost
as much as it did Mom. Well, not that much. She never
mentioned it, but I often caught her glancing at me, just
before she turned away with a shudder.
Touching my cheek, it felt smooth and soft. If this
was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. A tap sounded
on the door and I walked over to my bed and sat down.
“Come in.”
The door burst open and the “three amigos” came
rushing in, tackling me on my bed.
My mother peered over their shoulders, worry
spread across her face. “Girls, you need to be careful.”
“That’s okay, Mom,” I laughed as we rolled on the
bed.
“The weak link has returned,” Cassie cried,
barreling over the top of me.
“Where’ve you been, girl?” Elisa laughed.
“We know where she’s been, but now we need to
know: where’s she going?” Trish smiled, standing up and
pulling me into a sitting position as the other girls sat up
and crossed their legs.
“OMG,” Cassie shouted. “What is happening with
your hair?”
“It’s gorgeous,” Trish said, running a hand
through it.
“Didn’t you have black hair?” Elisa asked.
“Yeah, sort of,” I said. “It’s been so long since
I’ve had hair it’s hard to remember.”
“I love it,” they said in unison.
We looked at each other and burst into laughter,
Elisa and Cassie falling back onto the bed and Trish
dropping to a knee on the floor in hysteria. When we
finally wiped the tears of laughter from our eyes, the girls
looked at each other and then turned their gaze on me.
“What?” I asked, a little concerned with the way
they smiled at me.
“Shopping,” Trish cried out.
“You need to go shopping,” Elisa agreed.
“Most definitely.” Cassie grinned.
I looked to Mom as she stood in the doorway.
“You do need some clothes and it will be good for
you to get out with your friends.” She smiled.
“Yeah,” the girls cheered.
“Jump in the shower and we’ll do an inventory on
your closet to see what you need,” Trish said, walking
over and sliding my closet door open.
“Fine, but you need to be gentle,” I said,
extracting myself from Cassie and Elisa to join Trish by
my closet. “It’s been a long time since I’ve power
shopped.”
“Like riding a bike,” Cassie said.
“Once you’ve done it, you never forget,” Elisa
added.
“And by look of this closet,” Trish said with a
hand on her chin, “you need to get rid of the training
wheels… and training bra.” She grinned and reached into
the closet, took an old bra on one finger and twirled it
around.
“Hey,” I shouted, trying to grab the bra as she
deftly kept it away.
“Go shower, we have work to do.” Trish smiled,
flinging the bra back into the closet.
I rushed to the shower and got ready. Mom stuck
her head in the bathroom as I stood, wrapped in my towel
brushing my hair, trying to decide what to do with it.
“I don’t know how I want my hair,” I sighed.
“I would say it looks great the way it is,” Mom
pointed out.
Looking back in the mirror I shrugged. Guess she
was right.
“I wanted to check and see if you needed some
help with makeup since you never wore any before, but I
can see you don’t need any.” Her eyes met mine in the
mirror’s reflection, holding my gaze for a moment and
then she turned away.
Nodding to my reflection, a stranger’s blue eyes
stared back. The eyes; she had the hardest time looking at
my eyes. Out of all of things that changed, my eyes
bothered her the most.
“Britt, let’s go,” the girls cried from my room.
Spinning, I gave her a peck on the cheek, and then
raced to the bedroom where Trish had salvaged some
clothes for me to wear on a ‘temporary’ basis.
After slipping into a tank top, light green button
up shirt, and some faded blue jeans we were out the door.
We jumped into Trish’s Jeep Wrangler with the top down
and raced into town. There weren’t a lot of choices in
Grand Rapids but we headed for the one mall. ‘The
small’ the girls called it. It had a few clothing stores along
with a book store, drug store, and beauty boutique.
When the amigos power shopped, they really
power shopped. We nearly melted Mom’s credit card at
the rate we spent. I tried slowing them down, suggesting
we get something to eat before they could do more
damage, but it did little good as they pushed me into
another store with the united cry, “later”.
I have to admit, the excitement of buying clothes
in the woman’s section instead of the children’s section
appealed to me. Walking out of the changing room where
the girls waited to give their approval, I watched their
mouths drop open.
“What?” I asked.
“Britt, you’re gorgeous,” Elisa gasped.
“Oh, come on.”
“No, seriously; Elisa’s right,” Cassie agreed.
“Britt, you are one hot woman,” Trish added as
she walked up to me, took me by my shoulders, and
turned me to the mirror.
The image in the mirror made me gasp. I stared in
shock. The person in the mirror belied the little girl
memory of me. A woman stared back at me; the new
clothing accentuating the shapely figure I now possessed.
Trish stood smiling next to me. I always thought
her the most attractive of the bunch, but her long dark
hair, deep brown eyes paled next to my vibrant blue eyes,
shimmering hair, and glowing skin.
Cassie came to stand on my other side, grinning
as she wrapped an arm around me and gave me a
supportive squeeze. Her bleached blonde hair, tiny waist,
and blue eyes were beautiful. I felt arrogant realizing
myself prettier.
Elisa’s reflection in the mirror as she sat behind us
revealed her smiling face. Tears welled up in her green
eyes and she turned her red head away, embarrassed,
hoping we wouldn’t notice.
These were the girls the guys chased. It never
happened to me. I never felt like a woman what with the
cancer stuff going on. Until now. Elisa joined us as the
girls swarmed me in front of the mirror, giving me a
group-hug as I stared at our reflection, BFFs.
We swung by Sammy’s Pizza, our favorite
pizzeria, and I called Mom to let her know. We sat in a
booth, the backs so high you couldn’t see the people on
either side. Ordering a pizza, we caught up on all the
gossip I’d missed the last two weeks.
Reluctantly I told them about our canoe trip.
Telling them I had a spell and we went to the Mayo
Clinic to check it out, I decided not to share the details
about trying to kill myself. Actually, Mom never asked if
I did it on purpose, though after my conversation with
Dad at the Mayo, I knew he understood. He went along
with Mom’s opinion that the current swept me away and I
was too weak to cry for help. Besides, I did change my
mind, I rationalized.
Elisa told me about Tommy Newman, the starting
quarterback on the football team, and her latest. “The
Thunderhawks are going to be awesome this year.” She
beamed.
“You’re biased,” argued Trish.
“Yeah, so?” Elisa grinned as we erupted into
laughter.
“Just because you’re dating Jeb Strand who
doesn’t have an athletic bone in his body,” Cassie started.
“He has other talents,” Trish defended.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Jeb’s a musician,” Trish explained. “Lead singer
and guitar player for the band, Apocalypse Now. They’re
playing at the first school dance.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Trish asked.
“I never pegged you to be into the moody artistic
type.” I grinned.
“If you think Jeb doesn’t fit me, you should see
Carl,” Trish laughed.
“Carl?”
“You leave Carl alone,” Cassie moaned.
“Carl; chess club, valedictorian, yawn,” Elisa said
with a laugh.
“He’s nice,” Cassie argued.
“Carl Vladerman?” I looked at Cassie, shocked.
“He’s really changed,” Cassie said.
“Yeah, no more out-of-style clothes and thick
glasses,” Elisa said.
“Contacts and my fashion sense have helped a
lot.” Cassie nodded.
Things changed fast in Grand Rapids. Elisa
always had a boyfriend, dating one popular guy after
another, but Cassie and Trish didn’t like to risk getting
hurt.
“When did all this happen?” I asked.
“We didn’t think it was right to tell you about our
lives while you went through all that cancer stuff,” Trish
said.
“Now we have to get someone for you.” Elisa
smiled.
“Uh, not interested.” I raised my hand shaking my
head.
“Oh, come on,” Trish protested. “There has to be
someone in town you could fall for.”
“Not that I know of.” I shrugged.
“Did you hear about the new family who moved
into the old Miller house?” Cassie said.
“No, who are they?” I asked. The Miller house
was the oldest, most elegant house in town. The last
owner, the president of the local paper mill, sold out to
some company from Finland and left town.
“Their name is Parks,” Cassie continued. “Victor
Parks just bought the paper mill.”
“They have any kids?” Trish asked.
“Seniors; a boy and girl, they’re twins.” Cassie
knew everything. Her mother worked at the school and
any new family moving to town needed to register their
children with her.
“Is he cute?” Elisa raised her eyebrows, rubbing
her hands together in excitement.
“Hey, you’re dating Tommy,” Trish said.
“I may have to throw him back if he’s too small.”
Elisa winked.
We all began to laugh again.
That’s when I heard them. The voices were low
yet I picked them out as if they sat next to me. Melodic
and sweet, the sound enveloped me, surrounding me as I
sat motionless, my mouth open and eyes wide.
“What’s the matter Britt?” Trish asked, concern
wrinkling her forehead.
“Britt, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Cassie
placed a comforting hand on my arm.
“I, I…” I stuttered, listening to the sound still
wafting to my ears. “Can’t you hear that?” I looked to
each of them.
“People talking?” Elisa asked.
“Yeah,” I said, thankful they heard it too and
wasn’t losing my mind.
“What about it?” Cassie questioned.
“Where is it coming from?” I asked in a daze.
“The next booth, do you want me to tell them to
quiet down?” Trish suggested.
“I’ll do it,” Elisa said, jumping to her feet and
ducking out of sight to the next booth.
“Wait,” I cried, reaching for her too late.
“Uh, hi, I … thought you were someone else,”
Elisa said and then the soft singing reply. I couldn’t make
out the words, but the murmuring resonated through the
booth.
Elisa slid back into her seat across from me, a stiff
smile on her flushed face.
“What’s the matter, who is it?” I asked taking her
hands and squeezing them as they rested on the table.
She turned deep red and grimaced, pressing her
eyes shut.
“What?” Cassie asked.
Trish and I leaned closer.
“I can say for certain the Parks boy is cute and his
sister is gorgeous,” Elisa whispered, her head down.
“How do you know…?” Trish began, but then
turned red as well. “They’re in the next booth?”