Looking for Miracles (17 page)

Hours later, or perhaps only moments that felt like hours, he swam to the surface again. This time the room was full of people, as he’d expected. A nurse was changing an intravenous bag, there was at least one other medical person helping her do stuff and Gloria, looking frazzled, stood in the corner watching everything. He wanted to tell her he was all right. But even if he spoke behind this oxygen mask, she wouldn’t be able to understand him.

No one would for a couple of days, Mike suspected. His throat felt raw, as if he was suffering from a bad case of strep throat. If he had a voice at this point, it wouldn’t be pretty.

The nurse was the first one to notice that his eyes were open. “Hey, Mrs. Martin, he’s with us. Come over here and talk to him while I mess around with this. Maybe you can distract him from the nasty things I have to do. Just move in on that left side and you’ll be okay. You can touch anything over there and not cause him any pain.”

Any more pain, Mike felt like telling her. Like he’d notice much more anyway. The drugs seemed to be doing their job as best they could, but to cause
him more pain than he was already in, someone would have to rip off body parts. And even the burn nurses wouldn’t start doing that for another day or two.

His mother was there in front of him. “Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital,” he mouthed, hoping he could make himself understood. “Which one?” he rasped. It didn’t look like the Peace Hospital in town that he was familiar with. And he knew about most departments there from visiting other people or getting them to the place.

“This is the burn unit at St. John’s in Washington. It was the closest place that had everything you needed.” Her voice was a bit shaky. Mike wanted to reach out and hold on to her, tell her everything was going to be okay. It was rough to see his mom this worried.

“Tyler? Lori and the baby?” he mouthed. He hoped his mom could understand that part. It weighed on his mind heavier than his own burns to know that Tyler was all right. If the boy was as uninjured as possible, he could take the next few days like a man, knowing he’d done his job.

“Tyler?” His mother asked, and he nodded as best he could. “He’s here, but not for long probably. They’re going to keep him overnight, treat him for smoke inhalation and make sure he’s okay. But
he has no burns, and he’s already trying to fight his way out of bed so he can come see you.”

That was Tyler. Mike felt relief that the boy was basically all right. “And I’ll have you know that he insisted on having that toy fire engine ride here in the ambulance with him. Last I looked it was on the bedside table, because that was the closest the nurses would let him have it. If it was up to him, it would be in the bed.”

Mike smiled. Anything that was happening right now was bearable knowing Tyler was all right, and Lori and the baby stayed safe. There was something else he wanted to tell his mother, or ask her. Whatever it was, he couldn’t form the words. It would come back later, he was sure of it. “I love you,” he mouthed to her. Reaching for her hand, he squeezed it.

“Oh, Mike, I love you, too. I was so worried. I still am, but I know you’re going to be all right now. It may be a rough couple of days, but we should be able to put up with that. We have before.”

He tried to nod to agree with her. It took a lot of energy, and that was something he didn’t seem to have much of. He was drifting off again. The nurse was still doing something that didn’t feel too good. And now he remembered what he wanted to ask her. He needed something for the nightmares
or flashbacks he was having. He didn’t remember them from other fire-and-rescue episodes, but they were there now whenever he closed his eyes.
Okay, Lord. Time to help me ride out another wave of this stuff
. If he couldn’t get any medication that would quench his fear, prayer would work. If Lori were here, she’d tell him that it would work better than any other medicine. He smiled, thinking of her and that piece of wisdom. The noise in the room receded as Mike drifted off again, back to the place where everything was on fire….

Had she ever been this tired before? Lori thought not. Even that second day after Mikayla was born, when she felt as if she’d walked face first into a brick wall, there hadn’t been this kind of exhaustion.

Everything she owned was probably gone. She couldn’t imagine what kind of effort it was going to take to go through things in that house and find anything worth saving. She praised God again that Tyler was not badly hurt and she and the baby were both untouched. At least they were untouched physically. But her heart hurt.

What was the purpose of all this? Why did the Martins have to lose part of their property? Mike was lying in a bed in this same hospital in far worse shape than Tyler was. And to what end? The only
good, if you could call it that, which might come out of this would ultimately ruin another family’s life. Clyde Hughes wasn’t an island any more than anyone else, and his actions would rebound on his wife and children.

“Mom? I don’t feel so good again,” Tyler croaked from the bed.

“Ring the button on the bed. Let me get the bucket,” Lori said, used to this by now. The doctors and nurses had warned her that nausea and vomiting were one way the body cleansed itself of the smoke for hours, or even days, after exposure. And, thank heavens, the staff psychologist also explained that just dealing with the fear that was left over from the fire could make Tyler feel ill, as well.

So it wasn’t a surprise to deal with these bouts every couple of hours. Lori prayed that they’d subside soon. Tyler was sick again, but he’d pushed the call button this time. It was taped to the rail of the bed, where he could have control of it. The doctors said that was important, too, to give him as much control as possible over life in the hospital.

The only thing he had absolutely no control over was sharing his room with his mother. She wasn’t going anywhere for quite some time, except perhaps to look in on Mike.

Even with all there was to do for Tyler, Lori’s arms felt empty without the baby. She was so
thankful that Carrie had found a way for Tyler’s preschool teacher to take Mikayla in for a few days. There was just nobody else right now; Gloria was at the hospital, as well, and Lori knew that even if she called what little of her family remained, no one would come to Friedens to help her out of trouble. They’d pretty much cut ties when they found out Gary had gone to jail, and nothing had ever restored the relationship.

So here she was, pretty much alone. No, never totally alone, she reminded herself as the nurse bustled in to help with Tyler. God was here with her, even in this awful situation. And He’d stay here by her side no matter what happened. Still, while the nurse was getting Tyler set to rights, and talking about a Popsicle for him to replace some of his lost fluids, Lori wished she could travel a different road for a while. One that still led her to walk with the Lord, but maybe through a shallower valley. Or even a nice, sunny meadow. She smiled a little at the thought. There was definitely a meadow someplace in her future. All she had to do was find it.

The nightmare was the worst yet. Mike actually yelled as he came into consciousness. It hurt like blazes. There was a cool, comforting hand on his forehead when he opened his eyes. Lori. She looked like a vision. “Are you real?”

“Ouch. Don’t talk. Yes, of course I’m real, silly. Your mom needed a break and Tyler is sound asleep. I’m wearing a beeper so the nurses’ station can get in touch with me if he wakes up. I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

He slipped off the oxygen mask, earning himself a glare. “I can do this once in a while. I’ll probably be off it tomorrow anyway.” Even whispering didn’t feel so great, but he had to talk. “He’s okay, right?”

“Tyler? A lot better than you. Mike, I can’t ever thank you enough for this.” Her eyes were brimming.

“Don’t try. I owe you as much as you owe me.”

Lori’s brow crinkled. “How can that be? All you’ve done is take care of me since we met.”

“Yes, but you brought something with you I didn’t have before. Faith. Lori, I didn’t go into that fire alone.”

He didn’t say any more, but she understood. “Oh, Mike, that’s great. I wish I could do something for you to ease the hurt. I’ve been praying all the time. If there’s any silver lining to this, maybe this is it.”

She never ceased to amaze him. The woman had lost just about everything she owned. Her son was in the hospital. And she was rejoicing with him, actually rejoicing over his newfound faith. “If you
want to pray about something, ask the Lord to take away these nightmares. Or visions. Or whatever they are.”

“Bad, huh?” She stroked his forehead again.

“The worst.” He started to tell her about them, but she put those soft, blessedly sweet fingertips on his lips and he kissed them instead of talking.

“Don’t tell me. Not in words. How about I get you a pad and pencil and you can write them down?” Then she looked him over and grimaced. “Guess that would be pretty hard to do without putting a lot of strain on that right arm.”

He shrugged, mostly on the left side. It hurt less that way. “I’m supposed to keep things flexible. We could try.”

“Then I’ll go find something. Tyler’s been drawing pictures himself. Big ugly ones with lots of orange and red crayon. Maybe I’ll get you a box of crayons, too.”

“Might help,” he said. He smiled at her, and she leaned over him, dropping a soft kiss on his lips, then settling the oxygen mask back in place.

“You’re not done with that thing yet,” she told him, sounding stern. “And I want you without it as soon as possible. Your mom should be back soon. We were going to meet up in the chapel at two, then go home.”

He raised his eyebrows in a question. “Two?” he asked behind the oxygen mask.

“Yes, it’s the middle of the night. Now try and get some sleep and I’ll send your mom up. God bless, Mike.” She smoothed his hair and left the room, leaving him to silently wish God’s blessing on her, as well, as he drifted off again. Maybe this time it would be a peaceful sleep.

The chapel was small, and at this time of night it was silent. A soft glow lit it, from candles in the front and soft lights in the ceiling. Lori entered from the back, finding Gloria in the second pew. She sat, slumped a little, and Lori’s heart went out to her. Gloria looked older and more frail than she had ever seemed before.

Slipping into the pew with her, she prayed silently for a moment. She was still getting a strong urge to bring up a subject that she could never take back once it was broached.
Please, can’t we just skip this?
she asked God, knowing in advance what His answer would be.

Nobody else knew what was dragging Gloria down to the depths of despair. They had nearly lost their sons together, and it forged a bond that wouldn’t be broken by any of life’s questions, no matter how tough. Lori took a deep breath, weighing her words.

“Well, my beeper hasn’t gone off. That’s a blessing, because it means that Tyler is sleeping peacefully. Mike isn’t, though. He’s having some awful nightmares or flashbacks.”

“Did he ever tell you about the other fire?” Gloria leaned against the back of the bench. “He wasn’t much older than Tyler.”

“No. Could that be where his nightmares are coming from?”

“Maybe. He was helping his dad rake and burn leaves. John left him alone for a while, and Mike got very interested in those burning leaves. Next thing we knew the garage was on fire. John rushed in there to try and save the car, or at least get the gas can and the mower out of there before they exploded and caused an even worse blaze. Mike was panic-stricken. I had to hold him physically to keep him from following his dad in there.”

“It must have been awful.”

“It was. The worst of it was that about four days later was when John had his last heart attack. Mike didn’t know about the earlier ones… What do you tell a six-year-old boy? It took years to convince him that he hadn’t killed his daddy somehow by setting the garage on fire.”

“Good heavens. No wonder going into the fire has given him nightmares. And I thought it was something else altogether.” Lori felt washed in
gratitude that she hadn’t said anything about her other suspicions.

“Oh, you’re right about that, too.” Gloria’s blue eyes were frank and unclouded. “His fascination with fire when he was six was a leftover from another life. We could never find out what had happened. But he had experiences before he was ever my son that drew him to fire.”

“So he
is
adopted?”

Gloria nodded. “How did you know? No one in Friedens has any idea that Mike is adopted. He doesn’t know himself.”

“Intuition. Gut feelings. I have no idea.” Lori’s head was spinning. “You’re going to have to tell him, you know.”

Gloria slumped against the seat. “You’re right. I’m going to break a twenty-five-year-old promise to a dead man when I do it, but you are so right. How do I find the strength? And what will it do to my life?”

“I can’t imagine. Why don’t we sit here together and pray about it. Surely if anybody can tell you what words to use, it has to be the Lord.”

Gloria still looked ahead, but she reached out a hand to Lori. “I’ve never prayed out loud with anybody like that. But yes, it would be a good idea now. Help me find the right words.”

Feeling the older woman’s hand trembling, Lori
grasped it and began with her. “We’re here in your presence, Lord, looking for healing. Physical healing for Mike and Tyler, and healing of the soul…” The little chapel felt like a place of miracles now in the middle of the night. Not just little miracles, but great big ones with wings.

Chapter Sixteen

T
yler’s room was crowded. The nurse was going through last-minute checks to make sure he was truly ready to be discharged. Lori jiggled Mikayla, who seemed happy to be back in her mother’s arms. She was contentedly sucking on one fist. And Hank Collins paced in front of her, scowling.

“There is just no other choice, young lady. You’re going to have to say yes to our offer of protective custody, at least until the grand jury gets done with all this.”