Tanabata -- Part 2

The least I could do was take her to lunch.

Her questions were endless. Every answer just prompted another. Some of them I’d never thought of myself. I didn’t have all the answers. That never discouraged her, though.

“They forget everything?” Her panini lay untouched on her plate. I nodded.

“You can heal anything?” she said a little too loudly, then continued in a whisper, “Anything?”

“Well…”

“What if someone lost a leg, what then?” She had a way of leaning over the table and brushing her bangs out of her eyes that expressed her complete focus on the subject.

“Sure, that’s pretty straight-forward, I guess.” I took a sip of my root beer.

“How can you be so calm with this? What happens to the wheelchair?”

I choked a bit on my soda, chuckling. “You’re concerned about the chair?”

“Heck yeah, I am!”

“Sometimes it disappears, sometimes they take it with them. They forget about it later, I’m sure.”

“What about brain damage?”

“Yeah, but that’s a little more involved.”

“How so?”

“Umm, depending on how old the person is and how severe the damage, a lot of history has to change.”

She leaned over even further, an incredulous look on her face. “Do you choose how their past changes?”

Startled, I put down my sandwich. “No, no, far from it. I guess I’d better make that clear. Nothing about the Power is mine. I don’t control it, just release it.”

“Well, where did it come from then?” She finally took a drink of her milkshake, but her dark eyes never left my face. All her attention was making me nervous. It felt like forever since I’d spoken with someone this much.

“God, I think.”

“Are you serious?” Even that didn’t faze her. “What do you mean, ‘you think’?”

I didn’t really know what to say. “Well, I think it started when I was a kid. My parents were sick and I...I remember praying to God hoping He’d touch and heal them.”

“Both your parents were sick? From what?”

“Umm…the plague,” I said sheepishly.

“What?” She lowered her voice again. “Do people still get that?”

“Well, it was a while ago…”

“What happened?”

“Well, I’m told it’s the rats and fleas that carry…”

“No, silly! Your parents! Try to keep up here.” She smiled, and it was wonderful.

“Oh, umm, I kinda heard a voice in my head, I guess. Telling me to touch them. So, I did.”

“And it worked.” It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “What does it feel like?”

“I dunno, maybe a little like a cool wind, the kind that gives you goosebumps.”

“Did your parents remember what you did?”

It took a few moments for me to respond by shaking my head. An image of my bedridden parents flashed before me.

She picked up on the pause. “Sorry…sometimes I speak before I think.”

Her words jerked me back from my reverie “No! Don’t be sorry! I love your questions…I mean, I was just happy that I had my parents back again even though I didn’t really understand what happened.”

She laughed at me through another slurp of milkshake.

“Has anyone ever remembered?”

I shook my head. “You’re the first.”

For the first time talking with her this morning, she had nothing to say. A redness crept to her cheeks.

“Why should I believe all this? It could be a trick.”

“Well, the door is behind you.” I didn’t want her to leave.

“Could you show me again? Could you heal someone else?”

I didn’t want to refuse her. I felt that would be letting her down. Plus, I was enjoying her company.

“You might not remember the next time. Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m gonna remember you, believe me.”

I hope so.

“How about I shadow you for a few days? I could keep a journal, put a video of you on my blog!”

I laughed, “Dee, for whatever reason, you are the first person to ever remember my part in any of this. But believe me, any type of recording won’t work.”

“Oh, right. Well, do you mind if I try anyway?”

“Knock yourself out. You sure you can do this, though? What about that?” I pointed to the wedding band on her hand. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from where you’re supposed to be.”

This time I caught her off guard, “Oh crap! I should’ve taken…no, it’s…sorry.” She sighed and collected herself, “This was my mother’s, I wear it to keep the creeps away. I’m not really the relationship type, you know? Wearing this just makes it easier, easier than explaining that to people, I guess.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or sad about what I just heard. “So, do you want me to find someone around here or…”

“You make it sound like you’re shopping for something! No, it can’t be anywhere you choose, otherwise I’ll find a way to doubt it. Let’s see…” She looked at her phone. “Ok, I’ve got just the place and we still have time to get there!”

Then she was up and dragging me out of the cafe, her panini untouched. I barely had time to throw some cash on the counter.

* * *

“Mr. Reynolds comes here every day, at exactly the same time. I hope he doesn’t decide to take today off.”

I had already sensed the man approaching, drawn to this place as if by destiny. What else would it be?

“He moves pretty quickly for being blind. He’s almost here.” I sounded calmer than I actually was.

“What? Wait, how did you know that?” She stared into me, and poked my chest with her finger.

“What other secrets do you have in there, hmm?”

Mr. Reynolds entered the park, his white cane rhythmically sweeping the path before him. His habitual path brought him to a bench beside one of the fountains. There he sat, took out a book and began running his fingers over the pages.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“He knows me. Comes to the library a bit for our braille section. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Walking closer, Dee called out to the old gentleman. His head perked up in recognition of Dee’s exuberant voice.

“Ah, Dee my dear, a pleasure!” The thump of his hands closing the book drew my attention—The Bible.

“Hi, Mr. Reynolds! Hope you’re feeling better today?”

“Oh, I am now that you’re here, young lady. Care to have a seat?”

“We’re just passing through today, Mr. Reynolds, but I’d thought I’d introduce you to a friend of mine.”

We exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a few minutes. I let Dee do most of the talking, but eventually conversation halted a little awkwardly and she looked at me in anticipation. It was easy enough to softly place my hands on the gentleman’s head. I still startled him though, causing the Bible to fall and land open. It took only a moment for the healing to leave me.

After it was done, Mr. Reynolds stood and took off his glasses.

“I guess it was silly of me to wear these on such a cloudy day. Thank you ever so much for spending a few minutes with a boring old man like myself, Dee.” He looked straight at her and said, “That library better realize the treasure they have in you, girl, or they’ll be hearing from me!” He chuckled.

Dee’s hands had met together to cover her face, all but her eyes, which were now filling with tears. Before they had a chance to escape, however, Dee rushed to hug the old man.

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Mr. Reynolds.”

Any initial shock Dee may have caused the old man melted away in her embrace. Mr. Reynolds laughed.

“Now, now. Best not get your friend there all jealous. Do you happen to see where I put the Good Book?”

While the old man searched, Dee quickly wiped her eyes and bent to retrieve the book. “You dropped it here…” She startled, though, when she saw she could read the letters on the page. Picking up the Bible, she held it open the way it had fallen, and gave it back to him with suspiciously bright eyes.

The old man took the book with a wide smile. “Ah! You’ve opened it right to one of my favorites—John 9:1. You know, I’ve always wanted to go see the city of Siloam. I can’t imagine why though…”

After telling Dee that he would try and come by the library next week, Mr. Reynolds waved goodbye and left the way he came, leaving his cane and glasses behind.

Dee wiped her eyes again, trying to hold back her sobs.

“Are you alright?”

“I…I still remember you!” She choked out a few words, but then the floodgates burst. Turning, she wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing her head to my chest. I just held her. Through her sobbing, she managed a few more words.

“I…forgot…to take a…video…”

I’d never been so happy to see a girl cry.

Continue reading Part 3

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Tanabata -- A Love Story -- PART 2

Tanabata -- Part 2

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