Darkness Before Dawn (3 page)

“Oh, Lord,” she breathed. “Please stop this. Give me strength.”

As if this prayer had been answered, the spinning room slowed down and ground to an
unsteady halt. Suddenly, she again had some control.

Once more focused, Meg inched her left hand forward and found the top edge of the
sheet. As she touched the linen, her wedding ring sparkled under the harsh light.
It was a single gold band, nothing elaborate or fancy, but it represented something
and someone she had loved deeply for so long. What did it represent now? Memories?

She suddenly recalled the day he had first slipped it on. As she relived that moment
it felt as if Steve was once more with her, holding her hand, grabbing the sheet.
With a renewed strength brought on by feeling his presence, she gave a quick, steady
pull and was visited by something she hadn’t expected. What rested on the gurney took
her breath away and made her stomach boil. It was like pictures she had seen of casualties
in war zones and it stunned even this trained and experienced nurse.

What was in front of her wasn’t so much one body but random, burned parts laid out
on a table. They were positioned like broken china awaiting regluing. But this mess
could not be put back together. There wasn’t enough glue in the whole world. The crash
had literally torn this body apart and left it unrecognizable. Unexpectedly, the fact
that the man had not just been shredded but burned gave Meg hope.

This can’t be my Steve. It’s a mistake. Steve could never look like this. It just
can’t be him! Someone else must have been driving his car
.

But that hope was quickly and cruelly dashed when she saw the man’s left hand, that
same hand that had made him Springfield University’s star baseball pitcher and the
same hand upon which she had once placed a gold ring. And there on the ring finger
of that hand was a simple, plain gold band. It was Steve’s ring, the one she’d given
him. The one that was engraved inside the band, “ ’Til death do us part.” And death
was now not sixty years from now as it should have been.

After one final look, Meg pulled the sheet back up. “As simple as making a bed,” a
head nurse had once told her about covering a corpse. And it was easy, but still each
time she had done this simple act she’d always wondered how many hearts had been shattered
by that death? Now she knew that simple act of pulling up a single white sheet over
a body wasn’t just covering a lifeless body, it was closing and locking a door that
would never again be opened.

A
S MEG OPENED THE DOOR TO THE HALLWAY
, D
R
. J
OHN
S
EYMOUR, A
brash, devastatingly handsome young resident strolled toward her. Yet, even though
they were only a few feet away, he evidently failed to see Meg. Perhaps that is why
as he approached, his words were directed only to Heather.

“Hey, sweetheart, you really do look fine this morning. No one wears a uniform the
way you do.” He finished his offhanded compliment with a long wink and a big grin.

Usually Heather had a quick comeback for the doctor’s flirting, but maybe because
of her concern for her friend she remained mute, only responding with a stern glare.
Failing to read her expression, Seymour continued to prod one of the hospital’s most
desirable single employees, “Why, Heather, who stepped on your tail today?”

“John,” she whispered, “there was an accident this morning, and . . .”

Opening the door wider and stepping fully into view, Meg interrupted Heather in mid-explanation.
In unison, both nurse and doctor turned toward her.

“We’ve got to get someone to oil those hinges,” the doctor laughed. “The squeaking
could wake the dead.”

Heather cringed, but Seymour, sensing he had a captive audience, continued. “Well,
Nurse Richards, good morning. I didn’t expect to see you this early, but it’s always
a pleasure to be around such beauty even if you’re taken. That husband of yours is
one lucky man.”

“Doctor, Meg is . . .”

Cutting Heather off, Seymour added, “Beautiful. Yes, she is. And I’ve got some good
news for Meg, and I’m not going to keep her in suspense for even a moment longer.”
His face beaming, he continued, “Nurse, the lab finally got caught up after you left
yesterday.”

Heather jumped in again, “Whatever the news is, I don’t think this is the time!”

A stubborn Seymour just kept right on talking. “Meg, I overheard you saying yesterday
your husband would be coming home this weekend for your anniversary and I knew you’d
want to surprise him with the good news. Congratulations! Your suspicions were confirmed.
Our official tests prove you’re pregnant!”

Seemingly realizing that no one else was reacting normally to this bit of wonderful
news, a confused look quickly crossed the man’s face. “Listen, Meg, I’m sorry if I
spoiled the surprise by telling you in front of Heather, but I know how long you’ve
been trying and I just didn’t think that you’d want me to hold back. If I was wrong,
just remember I’ve never been known for having any tact.”

Meg’s eyes met the doctor’s momentarily then she lowered her head, turned, and walked
toward the ER door. In the background, she heard him ask, “What did I do?”

Meg was out of earshot before Heather could explain.

As she exited, the same accident victim she’d observed when she’d first arrived held
the outside door open for her. He was so lucky. He got to go home to be with his family.
Or maybe it
wasn’t luck but fate. Maybe fate had dealt her the wrong hand and him the right one.

Walking resolutely across the parking lot, she again felt the damp breeze hit her
face. Like a slap in the face, the cold wind emphasized how quickly things could change.
In a split second, good had become bad and pleasure had morphed into pain. Just as
quickly, an answered prayer had turned into a meaningless coda in an evening consumed
by tragedy. The “wonderful” news she’d been waiting and praying to hear for what had
once seemed a long time didn’t seem to matter now. How ironic! The only thing she
and Steve needed to make their lives complete had only been confirmed after his life
had ended.

Sliding into her Mustang, she slammed the driver’s side door, tightly clenched the
steering wheel, and looked toward the heavens. So this is the way God worked! And
if this was the case, then why bother trying to live a good life or even praying?
What had it gotten her? She had experienced a few incredible years and then it had
become a nightmare of pain and regret.

Looking out through her windshield, she took a deep breath and shouted, “Why? What
have I done?”

She had more she wanted to say but she couldn’t bring herself to tell God what she
thought of Him. Besides, she’d lost her voice and for the first time since the phone
had awakened her from such peaceful dreams, tears filled her eyes. She was completely
alone and that knowledge spilled out into the night, the car, and her heart. It rolled
over her like a powerful ocean wave. A silent voice suddenly screamed unrelentingly
that nothing would ever be the same again, that death had come and the parting was
real and there was no stopping the “dark music”!

F
OR TWO DAYS, MEG MINDLESSLY WALKED THROUGH THE DUTIES THAT
had been suddenly and unmercifully thrust upon her. She graciously greeted scores
of visitors as they came into her apartment with arms full of food and mouths spilling
out thousands of meaningless words. Some even said they understood just how she felt.
She wanted to laugh in their faces. How could they know how she felt? No one could
know how she felt. She wasn’t even sure herself. She wished they had all just left
her alone. After all, alone was now the story of her life and she felt it was time
to begin living that story.

She vaguely remembered spending time picking out a suit, a shirt, and a tie to give
to the funeral director, but what did it really matter? After all, the slate gray
coffin she’d chosen would be closed. It had to remain locked because Steve, like Humpty
Dumpty, couldn’t be put back together again. He could have been buried in a sheet
and no one would have known. So why had they wasted good clothes that someone else
could have worn? In fact, picking out clothes that would never be seen reflected the
nature of everything about a funeral. The whole experience seemed like a colossal
waste of time. There were far better things to do than say good-bye to someone who
couldn’t
hear or reply. Besides, she had said her goodbyes at the hospital. That is where she’d
learned the true meaning and felt the full weight of “ ’Til Death Do Us Part.”

So as Meg now waded through all her obligations, she saw no reason for any of this.
It was all just social mumbo-jumbo. She seriously thought it should be cancelled;
it was accomplishing nothing more than drawing out needless pain. But when she suggested
just a graveside memorial, her wishes were quickly shot down. Her mother and Steve’s
folks insisted on a full-blown funeral. And when Meg balked at attending the church
memorial service, her mother raised her voice and scolded her. “How would it look
if you weren’t there?” Then she’d added, “Steve would want you there.” Meg had just
nodded and forced a solemn smile. What a joke! Steve didn’t want anything anymore,
and he wouldn’t care if she were there or not. His mind had stopped and with it all
his wishes.

With each passing moment, she grew to hate the thought of the funeral even more. She
saw no real purpose in it. Was this the way all widows felt? Did they also dread dealing
with a ceremony that was really nothing more than hollow words among old friends?

Love had been the anchor in her life and that love had come from Steve. He had radiated
it with his touch and his kiss. She felt it in the way he looked at her. It gave her
confidence and made her strong enough to handle anything. But now that love was gone.
And with each passing moment, it grew more distant. And without that anchor, she was
adrift. So why hold a service that pointed out to the world the guiding force in a
woman’s life had left her?

Beyond the ache in her heart and the sense of incredible loneliness, the worst part
of the two endless days had been her meeting with Reverend Cheston Brooks. There was
nothing wrong with the man. Brooks, short, middle-aged, and blessed
with a gentle spirit and a soft delivery, was the kind of person everyone liked, including
those who didn’t ever darken a church door. Yet over the past forty-eight hours she’d
come to loath the sight of him. He’d visited with her on two long, drawn-out occasions
and each meeting left her feeling more empty and lost. Worse yet, the preacher in
his haste to make her feel as though God was with her had actually done just the opposite.
Brooks had planted a seed that made the widow wonder if God wasn’t really the problem
rather than the solution.

The first time he came to see her Brooks read a great number of Scriptures to seemingly
reassure her that all of this was in God’s plan. Meg actually heard few of his words.
What she did hear just made her angry. She wasn’t buying any of the “God’s plan” bit.
Why would God plan such a horrible thing? Why would He break her heart? And then there
was the pastor’s constant need to stop and pray. Now praying seemed to be a bit like
buying a spare tire after your car had been sold. What real good could it do?

On Brooks’s second visit, after he had finished mumbling his carefully chosen words,
she pressed him on the whys of Steve’s death. Brooks admitted he couldn’t understand
why the accident had happened. And if a man trained to know didn’t know, how could
Meg begin to understand or possibly put any faith in the God who had killed her husband?
And if He is all-powerful and had allowed it to happen, then that was just what He
had done. He’d killed her husband. That singular, cruel thought almost caused her
to voice her emotions. But before she could tell Brooks that God had to be responsible,
he chimed in with more of his evangelical dribble.

“Meg, I don’t know what it is in this case, but I really believe that something good
can and will come out of this. You need to believe that, too.”

She bit her lip and nodded, and then he prayed again.

While Meg didn’t accept Brooks’s faith in there being a reason for all of this, it
had been easier simply to nod her head pretending to agree than to continue to challenge
the man. After all, arguing would just needlessly waste more time discussing something
she didn’t want to discuss. If Brooks wanted to continue to believe in the elementary
Christian faith of her childhood, he could, but she had a much different point of
view now. When all of this pomp and ceremony ended and Steve was buried, she’d start
to live a life based on the present and not the future. She was not going to be hurt
again nor live with fairy tales and outdated ideas such as good things happen to those
who have faith. It was now all too obvious that had to be a fable. After all, she’d
always played by the book. She’d been faithful. She’d tithed. She’d gone on mission
trips. She’d prayed for the sick. She’d been the best Christian she could be and look
at what had happened! The last thing she needed to hear at this point was “just have
faith.”

Thankfully, not everyone tossed off the same old, tired, and meaningless lines. There
had been one person who hadn’t spit out a long litany of clichés. Heather had just
been there and she’d been wonderful. She’d done her best to understand what Meg was
saying and thinking and hadn’t even attempted to talk her out of wearing a blue dress
instead of the traditional black to the funeral. After all, Steve had hated seeing
her in dark clothing and she couldn’t bring herself to wear black even on this day.
Heather had understood and even gone to bat for her against her mother. Thanks to
her, that one battle had been won.

Somehow, maybe thanks mostly to Heather, the world had moved forward and she and the
endless streams of people who had offered their condolences were now seated in the
church. There directly in front of her, presiding over it all was Reverend Brooks.
And those who had packed the church for the service
felt sure he would find the words to bring comfort to Meg. She was just as sure he
couldn’t. After reading a few Scriptures, Brooks began to speak from the heart and
in the process proved Meg right.