Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (73 page)

SAM WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO

The Farm

Alexandra had raced to the Power Station with
the others, beating them there in her sports car. She'd brought Mark and had
been as shocked as everyone else at the scene inside the control room. For a
few seconds there, she'd thought both Andy and Lisanne were dead. Mark had gone
to the hospital in a van someone had the foresight to drive, with Andy laid out
in the back, Lisanne next to him, animals following in the SUV behind them.
Alex had stayed only long enough to load John and the sobbing Samantha into her
car. Harry sat in the back seat, whimpering, while Sam had not stopped crying
the entire trip back to the Farm.

Now Alex stood in the doorway of Abby's bedroom,
watching as John approached his wife and as he set Sam down to stand in front
of her mother. Part of her thought she shouldn't be watching this moment--yet
another part felt strongly that she needed to know what would transpire here.
She was a witness of sorts, an observer, of Samantha's life now. So she leaned
against the doorjamb and watched. She noticed how Harry padded softly into the
room to stand next to Samantha. Alex didn't think the little girl even noticed
how automatically her hand reached out to rest on top of his head.

"Mommy," Sam said brokenly, "I shoulda been
here. I shoulda found her in time. It's my fault--" Then she broke down into
tears again.

Jessica seemed to wake from a kind of hazy
far-off place. Samantha was here and needed her. She gathered the little girl
up, settling Sam on her lap, hugging her tightly at first and then rocking her
gently. Jessica felt her own tears start to flow as she murmured, "It's not
your fault, not at all. There was just too much, honey. Too much. You couldn't
fix it all."

"I couldn't fix anything, Mommy," Sam said in a
low trembling voice. "Andy and Lisanne and Merlin and Waldo--they all got hurt.
And Grandma Abby died. And I--"

Her father protested, "No, Sam, no. What you did
was so important. It had to be done. Margaret had to be stopped--and you were
the only one who could do that. You did the best you could--it's just that
sometimes--"

"Sometimes bad things happen, Sam," her mother
explained. "And nobody can fix them, not even you. But you did stop Margaret
from shooting anyone else, from damaging the power plant. You did good."

Alex watched Sam's face. Would she accept this?
Understand that there were indeed limitations in what she could accomplish with
her gifts? It was crucial that she get it, Alex thought. As harsh a lesson as
this was, learning she could not control everything was vital to her future
well-being. Otherwise, Alex didn't think those small shoulders could handle the
weight of the world, all that crushing responsibility. After all the disasters,
all the death--the end of the world left a lot of fixing up to do afterwards.
Too much for one girl.

Sam's crying slowed down now, and the adults saw
her trying to work out what was being said to her. Finally, she asked
hesitantly, "But was it okay? What I did to Margaret? That was the mind
pressing thingie you told me not to do anymore. But, I had to, Mommy, it was
the only way to stop her."

Jessica pulled her close again. "Oh, Sam, honey,
I know you had to do that. And it wasn't just you doing it anyway, was it?"

John spoke up, "That's right, Sam. There were a
lot of people and animals and other things helping you do it, weren't there?"

Jessica nodded to her daughter. "I know I felt
it, and I heard the others talking about it--a lot of people were connected to
you in that moment, Samantha. It wasn't just you doing it. And, honey." She
reached out to the nightstand and grabbed a Kleenex, wiping her daughter's
face. "Even if it had only been you--you did what you did to protect us all.
That is a good thing, not a bad thing."

Sam looked at her mother and father and nodded,
but still had a confused look on her face. Alex cleared her throat, and then as
they turned to her, entered the room. Harry walked over and licked her hand
while he wagged his tail at her.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I heard what you were
talking about. I wanted to tell you that I think it's important we talk about
this more--later on, when we have time. But what you need to understand now,
Sam, is that there are all kinds of abilities people have, things they can do,
that can be used for good or for bad. Just like...Black. He can shoot a gun
really well. Margaret shot a gun and almost killed someone. Does that mean that
shooting a gun is a bad thing? No. We trust Black to use good judgment if he
ever has to use his gun. We trust he will use it only for the protection of all
of us. I think if we know you will work on using good judgment with your mind
pressing ability, then we can trust you to do the right thing with it. Just
like you did tonight--you used it to protect us all. Do you understand?"

Jessica gave Alexandra a grateful look. Just as
she was about to say more, Harmony burst into the room.

"Sorry guys, but the hospital just called. Andy's
not doing well. Somebody named the Mayor got on the phone and said you gotta
bring Samantha down there. I wouldn't have listened to her--she's kinda bossy,
and who calls themselves the Mayor anyway? But then Mrs. Philpott got on and
said Perceval says Sam may be able to help. Some kind of healing or something."

Jessica started to object, but Samantha spoke
before she could get the words out.

"If I can help him, I gotta go," the little girl
said determinedly.

Alex kneeled down in front of Sam. "Just
remember this, kiddo. You may not be able to help him--okay? He may be too badly
hurt. And as far as I know, you haven't tried to heal anyone with this
connection, this link you have to the planet, right?"

"No, not really. I talked to Harry about it one
time."

Harry barked affirmatively.

"Okay," Alex continued, "so you talked about it,
but you never did it. All I'm saying is that you need to remember it may not
work. It might work, and if it does, then great. But Sam, if it doesn't work--you
need to be prepared for that. Andy could still die."

John started to object this time. That seemed
too stark for a child to hear. But Samantha spoke up.

"I don't want him to die! I don't want anybody
else to die!"

Alex looked directly in Sam's eyes. "Remember
when you said I'd be your advisor? Well, I'm advising you now. I don't want you
to go in there thinking you can make Andy all better--and then find out you can't
and get all freaked out by it. The only thing you really know, the only thing
you can be really sure of, is that you can
try
.
Trying
is what
counts."

Sam's big brown eyes stared at Alex's face. And
stared beyond the face to the inside. And she saw that Alex was looking out for
her. Caring, worried that Sam would get hurt. Not holding her back. Just
telling her the truth. It was Alex's job, Sam realized, what she'd known Alex
would become. The Advisor.

Solemnly, Sam said, "Okay. Trying is what
counts."

Then she slid off her mother's lap and turned to
her father. "Daddy, Alex is gonna drive me in her sporty car."

John said, "No, honey, I can take you." Only to
see his little girl shake her head.

"No. Mommy, Daddy...Janine and Max, Grandpa Clay
and Nathan...they're bringing Grandma Abby to the house now."

"Oh," Jessica said, rather bleakly.

John leaned down and, feeling torn yet again
tonight between two crises, resignedly gave Sam a hug. "All right then, I'll
stay here with your Mom and Grandpa. And Alex," he said sharply, "no speeding."

As Alex took Sam's hand and walked out of the
room with her, John heard her saying, "Now, see, there's another thing--driving
a car. A car can go really fast. Which can be a good thing when you need to be
somewhere in a hurry. But there are also dangers in that. So your father is
trusting my judgment to drive safely with you in the car."

Harry whuffed as he followed them down the
stairs.

"But, Alex, shouldn't you drive safely even when
I'm not in the car?" Sam asked innocently.

"Um...well," Alex murmured. John heard a small
giggle coming from Sam. A brief bark from Harry. Maybe not so innocent.

The Hospital

Waldo lay on a stretcher in the operating room,
one paw outstretched to touch Andy's hand. The smells and sounds in the room as
the surgery went on and on made him want to sneeze or growl or run away. But he
stayed motionless, his head in Samantha's lap. Alex had lifted her up onto his
stretcher when they arrived, and Sam's little hands gently soothed Waldo as she
lightly ran them over the silky black fur on his head. He felt her connection
to him...like a golden braid of light, it twisted to him. Then he sensed the
strand get thicker, stronger, as Samantha brought others into this glowing
connection. First Harry--what a great dog he was, Waldo thought. A true friend.
Harry stood next to Alex, quivering with the need to help. And as the
shimmering braid of light touched him, Waldo saw it glow clear and pure with
Harry's strong sense of duty, purpose, and devotion to Samantha. Waldo then
heard Alex say, "Oh, wow," and knew she was gripping tightly to the stretcher
rails to keep from falling down. Well, Alex was still new to all this. Waldo
let his own senses expand with Sam's, joining more fully with her.

He watched as she made a circle of connections,
an ever-widening loop, one that ignored boundaries, passing through walls and
doors and buildings. There was the group in the chairs outside the operating
room, Maria and Zack--new people, others he didn't have names for, Mrs. Philpott
and Perceval--they were right outside the door. Doctor Mark had only let Sam,
Harry and Alex in the room with Andy. But Perceval was a very strong strand in
the gleaming bonded threads of Sam's creation. There were Black and White with
Rachel. The sphere of connections reached out to Lisanne, and Waldo felt her
love for Andy spilling into the deepening braid of healing energy swirling
around them.

Waldo noticed how carefully Sam kept the light
away from Margaret, and how she kept the center of the circle clear. Inside the
center were just Andy, the doctor and the nurse, the latter two working
furiously to save an ebbing life. Hurry, thought Waldo. Yes, he heard the reply...time
to hurry now.

With breath-taking suddenness the circle
expanded to encompass the entire town. Some people caught up in it were just
vaguely there, just thin tiny bits of the glowing radiance...but all were
touched on some level. People at the Farm, mourning, but still connected in
this moment. Those at the Power People's House, and at the Power Station,
stopping their repairs of the minor damage Margaret had done, Sarge and Tommy
Sinclair joining the connection. Even Cap'n Joe out at the lake, sitting in a
boat with Mutt, both were brought into the intricately woven skein of light.
Then the trees, the horse mind, the individual animals roaming around in fields
and forest...finally, the rock. And now the light contracted into the center,
focusing, narrowing to the body bleeding to death...concentrated on Andy.

Waldo didn't know all the details of what
happened. He knew the doctor and nurse stepped back in surprise, he dimly
noticed Andy's breathing get better. He heard the heart monitor beep in a
steady way again. He didn't know the medical terms for what was happening
inside Andy's body, he just sensed--knew--that things were knitting up, things
that needed the most help were getting help. He knew that not everything was
healed good as new--this was instead a patching up of the worst of the injury.
Recovery could happen now with the doctor's help.

The only word that came to him during the whole
thing, the only sound, was in his head. A clear, bell-toned voice, saying, "Life."

And then it was over, threads unraveling, not in
haste but in order, the braid growing smaller and smaller until it was just
made up of Sam and Waldo. He heard her say softly aloud, "There...he'll be okay
now, Waldo." Then he heard a gasp from Alex and a bark from Harry as Samantha
fainted.

Jessica woke to the rich smells of coffee,
cinnamon, and bacon. Her stomach growled and for a moment she smiled as she
realized someone else had taken over kitchen duties this morning. Then it all
came flooding back, all the events from yesterday. A small sound escaped from
her lips.

"Shh, honey, it's going to be okay," John said
from behind her. She remembered crying herself to sleep last night, and how she'd
lain on her side and he'd wrapped his arms around her, molding his body to
hers, just holding her, keeping her safe next to him while she cried and cried.

She heard him clear his throat and say, "What I
mean is that it will get better in time. I know it won't be okay, ever, that
Abby is dead."

"Yes," Jessica murmured. "My mother is dead. It
doesn't seem possible, John."

She felt him sigh. "A whole hell of a lot
happened yesterday that doesn't seem possible, hon," he replied. "Lately it's
like we live in a world of impossibilities, springing into reality just like
they've always been there--only they haven't. It's all so new. Some of it
awful, some of it wonderful. And pretty much all of it surprising. I'm amazed we
haven't collectively gone into a state of shock."

Jessica mused, "Yes, it is another part of the
strangeness that we have all kept functioning--except for my mother. But
everyone else, while we've had our moments of disbelief, basically we've just
gone from one thing to the next, one crisis to the next, doing what needed to
get done to set things up here in our little community, our safe zone."

Her husband felt her shudder slightly. "What?"

"Safe zone--John, is that what it is for
Samantha? Is she safe here?"