Miracle Woman (3 page)

‘Easy, Mike, easy! There's no point in drowning a good drop of whiskey.'

Martha laughed aloud. Her husband should know by now that his mother-in-law's glass of whiskey was sacred. One glass only, except on very special occasions.

‘Brian and that Lisa one sent me flowers. They were delivered this morning.'

‘That's nice,' murmured Martha, who had sympathy for her brother and his new wife. No matter what he said or did, Brian could not appease his mother, who still believed marriage was for life and divorce was a sin. She had virtually ignored his partner of two years and had refused to attend his re-marriage in California. They lived in San Jose in California.

‘And I didn't even get a card from Sean,' sighed her mother.

‘They must be having a good time then,' joked Jack. Her brother Sean and his wife Carrie had gone to Maine with their children for a well-earned break. Her mother was put out at not having been invited to join them for a weekend, even.

‘Mom, you know he'll be in touch the minute they get back!'

‘Aye, I suppose so.'

‘You know so.'

Her nephews Liam and Tommy and the girls all arrived with the cake almost aflame with candles. Every bit of frosting was covered. Patrick, their fifteen-year-old son, who considered himself beyond such childish things was commandeered to photograph the family occasion.

Her mother's vague annoyance was overruled by her love of her grandchildren. She made a great to-do of huffing and puffing and trying to blow
each and every candle out, little Liam giddy with the excitement of trying to help her.

Martha had just finished slicing the cake and passing it around the table when the doorbell went. Mike automatically rose to answer it.

When he ushered Paul Lucas into the room, Martha rushed over to greet young Timmy's father. ‘How is he?' she asked, keeping her arm around the dark-haired middle-aged man who looked exhausted.

‘They think he's going to make it. But he's on one of those breathing machines and from what they can tell he's got a broken pelvis and they had to remove his spleen. He's got cracked ribs, a tear in his lung and some internal bleeding.'

‘Oh my God!'

‘His right leg's busted real bad too but at least he's come through it.'

‘Oh thank heaven,' moaned Martha, relief flooding over her.

‘Sue stayed with him. I'm on my way home from the hospital to check on the boys and to get some fresh clothes so we can stay the night. I felt I just had to drop in and let you know how my son is and thank you for helping to save his life.'

Martha demurred, embarrassed. Her mother and the rest of the family gazed at her with curiosity.

‘I was there, that's all, and only tried to help.'

‘You did more than that, much more. My older boy Ralph told me how they all thought he was
dead but that you held Timmy and laid your hands on him, and all but brought him back to life.'

‘Paul . . . it wasn't quite like that. I just couldn't bear to see him in pain.'

‘Ralph said he never saw anything like it. Never. He said even the paramedics thought my Timmy was gone, and if you hadn't been there and healed him he would be gone!'

‘I was only doing what anyone would have done, honest.'

‘I don't believe there is anyone else that could have saved my son, Martha, only you!'

Martha felt hugely embarrassed.

‘Anyways I wanted to thank you,' Paul Lucas insisted sincerely. ‘We will never forget it, Martha, never.'

She escorted her neighbour to the front door, promising to visit Timmy and sending every good wish to his wife Sue. Watching as he crossed the street and climbed into his car to drive to the hospital, she was grateful that her own children were safe under their own roof.

‘Well!' said Annie on her return. ‘What in heavens was all that about, Martha?'

‘His boy Timmy got knocked down today, outside the Easton Market store.'

‘Aw, the poor kid!'

‘Mom and I were there,' interjected Mary Rose, ‘and it was just awful. He was on his bike and got crushed by this big Jeep! He was right underneath
it and it seemed like he was dead. Mom was amazing, she went straight over and helped him.'

‘And what's this about you healing him, Martha?' enquired her mother, concern in her voice.

‘Mom, I just did what I could. I wasn't going to watch a boy not much bigger than Alice die before my eyes.'

‘God, the poor kid! It must have been awful.'

‘He was in a terrible, terrible state, crushed, lying there. We couldn't move him. His life just slipping away, with all these gruesome strangers standing around watching and doing nothing. I
had
to help him.'

‘What did you do, Martha love?' asked her mother.

‘All I did was to touch him, just like I'd touch any of the kids here if they were hurt or injured and try to ease the pain, rub it away. I kept talking to him too, while we waited for help. Just laying my hands on him I could feel his fear and pain, and I wanted to lift that from him. If that's what you call healing then I guess that's what I did! I wasn't prepared to give up on him and have him die. I knew he was still alive. And somehow I could reach him. It was as if we were connected, linked, if that's the right word.'

‘Didn't you feel any different?' enquired Annie earnestly.

‘This kind of energy surge seemed to flow through me and I felt real scared because I
realized how bad he was and that he was slipping fast.'

‘They all said he was dead,' interrupted Mary Rose again. ‘Then when the ambulance came and they were trying to lift and move him Mom said he was breathing and they put the oxygen mask on him.'

‘Like in the Bible,' murmured Annie.

‘Come on, Annie. It was just one of those weird things like you read about in the papers, where some man gets the strength to lift a ten-ton weight off his trapped wife or a mother runs through a fire to get her child and doesn't even feel the burn. A bolt of energy or light, an adrenalin rush – I don't know! I was in a crisis and my body or intuition or whatever responded to it.'

‘Did you pray, Martha pet?' asked Frances.

‘Believe me I prayed! I prayed to God, to whatever power controls this universe. I prayed for that little boy, cos I was not prepared to give up and watch him die.'

‘Thank God, then,' murmured her mother, squeezing her hand. ‘Thank God that you were there.'

‘Maybe you have a healing gift or something, Martha, maybe.'

Martha shook her head vehemently. Annie was into all this new age stuff, healing and crystals, of which Martha knew very little. She didn't believe in any of that kind of thing anyways.

Martha yawned. She felt tired. Maybe a cup of
strong coffee would perk her up. A drooping hostess was no good to anyone. She was glad the boy was all right, relieved that his life had been spared and that Susan and Paul Lucas still had their son.

‘You OK, Martha?'

Mike came over and bent down, his breath, like her own, smelling of garlic.

‘Fine.'

‘Hands up who's for coffee!' she offered.

‘C'mon, I'll give you a hand.'

In the kitchen, she stacked some of the dirty dishes and set the kettle to boil. She got down the rich roast Colombian coffee that was kept for special occasions: no decaf tonight. She watched as her forty-two-year-old husband set out the cups and saucers on the tray, adding the cream jug and sugar. His fair hair was starting to recede ever so slightly but golf and trips to the local gym had ensured that he stayed in shape, his body still well muscled and lean. Still as handsome and even more attractive than when she'd met him eighteen years before.

She filled the coffee pot and carried it back to their waiting guests. The kids had repaired to the den where they were likely already involved in some computer game battle of skill; their laughs and shouts filled the air.

‘Here you go, Mom,' she said, pouring the coffee into a white china cup. She was glad to sit down by her mother and relax. Mike and Jack, at
the far side of the table, were now talking about golf.

‘That was a lovely meal,' said Annie. ‘It was good of you to invite us over.'

‘Family should be together, gather round the table,' said Frances, ‘though you can't help thinking about the ones that are missing.'

Martha smiled, unsure if her mother was referring to her missing siblings or her father who had passed away over twenty-two years ago.

‘Anyways, you had a lovely birthday party, Frances!' cajoled Annie.

Martha knew that her mother held a grudging respect for the neat, blond-haired young woman who had managed to tie down her wild son Jack and turn him into a good husband and doting father.

‘That I did, that I did!'

Frances regaled them with stories of her best friends, Bee and Louisa. It had crossed Martha's mind to invite them over too but she had felt it would be tempting Mike's patience too much to expect him to sit and listen over dinner to her mother and her friends' stories for hours on end.

‘Bee had a perm at the salon, but they did it wrong and now her hair's coming out in clumps.'

‘Poor Bee,' murmured Martha.

‘Well, she's got herself a lawyer and he's going to sue them for a fortune, millions of dollars likely. That hair falling out could be the making of Bee!'

Martha and Annie smiled at each other, knowing well that Frances Kelly was about to launch into more stories about her women friends. Martha slipped off her shoes and curled up on the couch, only half listening to her mother. She was thinking about the day's events, glad that in some small way she had helped the Lucas boy survive the accident.

THE DRIVE ALONG
Penton Avenue and Columbus Drive was busy as mothers like herself ferried their offspring to the local schools, open finally after the long summer break. Martha dropped Patrick and Mary Rose first at St John's before driving back in the other direction with Alice, who attended Bishop Delaney Junior School. Alice was fussing about the hardness of her new shoes after weeks of slopping around in sandals and was worried in case she was not in class with her best friends.

‘You've just got to wait and see,' she told her.

It was unlike her youngest to worry so Martha decided to accompany her to the school yard and give her a bit of moral support. The two of them joined the growing throng of parents and children outside the school.

‘Be positive and optimistic and your child will sense it.' That's what all the good parenting books told you to do. Martha did her best to appear
relaxed, aware of her daughter's small hand clenched in her own as they walked towards the main entrance, both of them searching for the familiar face of any of Alice's schoolfriends. She nodded as Abe Harrison and Kate Nils, both teachers she knew, passed by, trying to look cheerful at the start of another term. It was hard on everyone getting back into the routine of school.

Crowds of children pressed past them: new bags, new shoes, new haircuts.

‘Mom, there's Becky!'

Martha smiled, recognizing her daughter's play-mate who had just returned from vacation. The two girls raced toward each other, as she and Evie Hayes watched on.

‘How you doing, Martha?'

‘Fine, Evie. Fine. You look great! Tell me, how did the house on Eagle Lake work out?'

Her friend seemed totally relaxed and refreshed, her skin a golden honey colour, her short brown hair sun-tinted a shade lighter.

‘We had the best time ever. The house was right on the shore and the kids just swam and fished and sailed from sunrise to sunset while Frank and I lazed and unwound. You and Mike would adore it. I honestly think it was one of our best vacations ever.'

The two girls' heads were together, whispering as two more friends arrived over. Martha was relieved that Alice had company as the yard bell
sounded and the children began to organize themselves into some semblance of a file to line up at the school entrance.

Alice wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight, Martha breathing in the sweet scent of her daughter's apple shampoo as they said goodbye.

‘See you later, Mom!'

The parents stood clustered together as their offspring entered the school building, one or two dabbing at their eyes or running to look in the windows. Martha almost dreaded the still and quiet of home that awaited her. As she stood chatting with Evie, a few of the other mothers joined them.

‘I heard about the Lucas boy,' Kim Hamilton interrupted.

‘I know, it was such a terrible accident!'

‘No, I mean about you. How you saved his life – healed him.'

Martha took a deep breath. She was real fond of Kim, with her sparky sense of humour and good nature, but her friend did have a tendency to get things wrong. ‘Kim, I just happened to be there, and did what any of you would do, that's all,' she said.

‘That's
all?
Not the way I heard it! I heard you all but brought that poor boy back to life! That in front of everyone you laid your hands on him, and somehow he started to breathe again.'

She could see a flabbergasted Evie staring at
her, and the others intently watching for her reaction.

‘Hey, come on. Don't be crazy, I just helped him. You know, he was in a lot of pain, and shock, stuck under that Jeep.'

How could anyone imagine that she had such a power? It was just her adrenalin and sheer necessity that had made her keep trying to save the Lucas boy.

Kim raised her eyebrows. Evie looked puzzled and Martha could sense everyone else's curiosity.

‘How's he doing anyway?' interrupted Berry Wilder, who had four boys of her own.

‘His mother Susan's still up at the hospital and he's had a lot of surgery and is in pretty poor shape.'

‘It's just awful for her. I don't know what I'd do if something like that happened to any of my boys, some lunatic driving over them.'