Valley of the Shadow (19 page)

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Authors: Tom Pawlik

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: Valley of the Shadow
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    The place reminded Conner of the nursing home in which his own father had spent several weeks recuperating from heart surgery five years earlier. Conner recalled his seventy-eight-year-old father steadfastly refusing to eat in the cafeteria with “all those old people.” He eventually got well enough to return home. But six months and two strokes later, he was dead.

    Conner’s fingers felt cold and moist as he sat in the car, staring at the nursing home entrance. He hadn’t been completely honest with Marta and Rachel about where he was going. They’d already made plans for most of the day anyway. Still, Conner had kept his cell phone off during the drive down. And he decided to leave it off awhile longer. He was still a little embarrassed, and for some reason he felt compelled to come here alone. Part of him felt it was better not to put Marta and Rachel in danger. Although another part of him thought that was a crazy excuse. After all, what real danger could an old man in a coma be to him or his family?

    With that, Conner said another prayer, gathered up his nerve, and got out of the car.

    “Umm . . . you want to see Howard Bristol?” the nurse’s aide behind the sliding window repeated once Conner gave her the reason for his visit. She was young, maybe just out of high school, with long blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Her plastic name badge read
Julie.

    “He was transferred from the Merrillville Hospice a few weeks ago,” Julie went on. Her face was serious. “I’m afraid he’s… he’s not really able to…”

    Conner nodded. “Yes, I know. He had a stroke and he’s been in a coma the last several months.”

    “And you’re a relative?”

    Conner took a breath, resisting the urge to lie. “No. Actually, I’m just an acquaintance. I was driving through and wanted to… y’know—” he lowered his voice—“pay my respects.”

    Julie nodded, looking around. There was no one else in the office. “So . . . do you just want to stop in his room and see him?”

    “Yeah, just for a minute,” Conner said. “Actually . . . has Mrs. Bristol been by to see him yet?”

    “Oh, she comes by pretty much every day. Usually spends a couple hours in the afternoons. That’s why they moved him here. To be closer to their home. So she wouldn’t have to drive so far.”

    “I see. Is he undergoing any therapy?”

    Julie hesitated. Conner could tell she was trying to be judicious in her answer. “They, umm… they do some limb movement. Mostly to prevent bedsores. But not much more. He’s catheterized and has a feeding tube. Mrs. Bristol hasn’t authorized its removal just yet.”

    “Mmm . . . ,” Conner said. “Has she been advised by their doctor to keep it in?”

    Julie winced and glanced around again. “I believe he’s been trying to get her to let him go. Apparently there’s too much damage and there’s nothing they can really do for him. But she won’t authorize anything. She still thinks he’s going to get better. But he’s just been . . . lingering.”

    “Ah . . . ,” Conner said knowingly. He could tell he had gained Julie’s trust and now wanted to see how much information she would offer up. “Yeah, that is sad. I think when you’ve been with someone so long, for so many years, it’s just very hard to let them go.”

    Julie went on. “But it’s gotta be putting her in the poorhouse. I don’t think his Medicare is covering everything. I don’t know how she affords it all now.”

    Conner tightened his lips and nodded. It was a good question. Ultimately it was just a matter of time. Either Howard’s body would give out or his wife’s finances would. It was sad, however, to see an elderly woman bringing herself to financial ruin because of circumstances like these.

    “Does he have any other family? Does he get many visitors?”

    “Just his wife. And sometimes their son comes with her.” Julie leaned close. “I saw him once or twice—kind of a creepy-looking guy.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “I don’t know . . . just creepy. He’s real tall. A big guy. And he’s got real long hair, and he just sort of stares at you. Like he’s not all there or something. I never heard him talk at all.” She shrugged—or maybe it was a shudder. “He just creeps me out.”

    “I see.” Conner rubbed his jaw. “Does he live with his mom on the farm?”

    “I don’t really know. I think so. She usually drives herself, but sometimes she comes with him.”

    Conner took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to see him briefly, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

    Julie smiled and gave him directions to the room. Conner thanked her and made his way down the corridor.

    Room 427 was darkened. The shades were drawn so only thin stripes of sunlight streamed through the blinds. Conner could see a long, thin mass beneath a linen sheet. He took another step into the room where Howard Bristol lay obscured in shadows.

    Conner’s heart was pounding now. Thumping hard against his ribs. He took a few deep breaths, tried to calm his thoughts, and moved in for a better view.

    He could barely recognize the old man lying in the bed. Wisps of white hair lay in unruly tufts across his pale, spotted scalp. The color around his eye sockets was a sickly mix of purple and yellow. A feeding tube ran into one nostril, and his toothless mouth hung open, sucking in air with shallow breaths. The skin of his face hung in loose folds at the corners of his mouth and around his jowls, like a deflated balloon covered with several days’ growth of gray stubble.

    Conner caught the whiff of death in the room. A slightly septic odor, thinly veiled by a forest pine air freshener hanging from an overhead light. A few potted plants were set near the window. Probably left there by Mrs. Bristol or some other friend.

    Conner shook his head. He’d half expected the room to be shrouded by an enormous shadow of pure evil. But instead, all he saw was an emaciated old man.

    A soft rustling sound behind him caused Conner to spin around. A hunched, impish figure stood in the doorway. An elderly woman with a tight mouth and a long, hawkish nose. Her silvery hair was pulled back in a bun with a few haphazard strands hanging in her face. Her eyes were large and brown, gazing at Conner from behind wire-rimmed spectacles. They seemed to flare with emotion for a moment. A flash of anger.

    She took a step forward and wagged a thin forefinger at Conner.

    “I know who you are.”

41

MITCH AND NATHAN
made their way back down the path through the fog. Nathan moved deftly along the jagged slope to the road, even though Mitch struggled at times to keep up.

    Something was confusing him. By his reckoning, it should be the middle of the night, yet the fog around him was still lit up brightly. Eventually they emerged from the clouds onto the road, where the Ferrari was parked with his motorcycle beside it.

    Mitch stopped to catch his breath. “What time is it? It can’t be morning already. There’s no way we were up there all night.”

    Nathan glanced over his shoulder. “Day and night don’t exactly work the same here, Mitch.”

    “So what now? Don’t we get a chance to sleep?”

    “I don’t think you’ll need it for a while.”

    “What?” Mitch realized that he wasn’t actually tired. In fact, at the moment, he felt wide-awake. As if he were on a caffeine rush or something. Maybe it was just the adrenaline from the experience he’d had at the top of the mountain. But he figured that would wear off soon enough.

    Nathan wiggled his fingers. “We just got an infusion of life. That’ll keep us going for a while longer.”

    Mitch thought about the spirit that had touched them. Maybe some sort of spiritual energy had been transferred. Could that be what was coursing through him right now?

    He shrugged. And why not. He remembered hearing once that in heaven there was no day or night. No need to sleep. Probably no need to eat. Those were physical requirements, after all. Needs of the flesh. Their bodies needed fuel and sleep, but not their spirits. Now devoid of the body, did they need any sleep at all?

    For five years, he’d been sleeping at night, though never feeling very well rested. He’d been eating and drinking but never felt satisfied. But if he was just a spirit—a ghost—then what explained the fact that he had gotten tired and hungry? And why was he almost always thirsty?

    Maybe that was a side effect of being down below the clouds. Down in the valley. Or maybe it had something to do with what Nathan had said. That those spirits up above were different. They had been changed. Nathan had said that God had made them new. And now they were free from all of the negative influences that once plagued them. Free from all hate and envy and…

    And sin.

    But all the souls here below were still trapped. Maybe their bodies hadn’t passed away completely, but their spirits were essentially dead. And now they were suffering from the same weaknesses they’d had in life. Or worse.

    Mitch swung a leg over his bike. “So what’s the plan? Where do we go from here?”

    “West.” Nathan pointed off toward the distance. “You remember where we saw those spirits coming from?”

    “Sort of, yeah.”

    “That’s where we need to be. Every time a spirit passes through this place into heaven, a doorway opens up.”

    “A doorway?”

    “Yeah, like a portal. From the physical world. That’s how we get you back into your body. When a portal opens up to let some spirit through, you jump into it.”

    Mitch laughed. “Dude. That’s your plan? You dragged me off the farm for that?”

    “So it sounds a little crazy,” Nathan said. “It’s your only chance. Besides, I don’t think you really want to go back, do you?”

    Mitch considered that option, but the thought of returning to Howard’s farm was definitely out of the question.

    They drove down from the foothills onto the highway. Mitch followed Nathan’s Ferrari through the endless, flat desert peppered with sagebrush as far as the eye could see. Along with an occasional gnarled cactus.

    They drove for what felt like hours until they arrived at an abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere. Mitch filled up, not surprised to find that the antique-looking pumps still worked. It was just one of those things he’d come to accept.

    Besides, his mind had been working on the idea of this doorway at the edge of the world. What was it like? How did it work? And what exactly would happen to him once he jumped through?

    Nathan could only offer a shrug when Mitch asked him. “Not sure what’s going to happen to you. I assume you’ll wind up back inside your body, but there’s still no guarantee you’ll come out of your coma. This is all pretty new to me, too.”

    “New?” Mitch frowned. “But I thought you were like, y’know… an angel or something.”

    “Angel?” Nathan laughed. “I’m no angel. That’s for sure.”

    “Well . . .” Mitch felt a slight prickle of embarrassment. He had just assumed the guy was some kind of angel. Or something like that. A leprechaun or a magic elf. He seemed to have so much knowledge of everything. “All right, then, exactly what are you?”

    “Just a guy, like you. I was in an accident, like you were. And they have my body on life support. So in a way, I’m stuck here too. Just like you.”

    “How long have you been here?”

    “Don’t know for sure. I lost track. Seems like it’s been a while.”

    Mitch’s frown deepened and he folded his arms. “So how is it you know so much about this place, then? What’s up with that?”

    “Like I said, I was in an accident. Lost control of my vehicle one night and went off the road. I hit a tree and went through the windshield. The next thing I know, I could feel myself floating, away from the crash site and out into space. Then I started to accelerate faster and faster. And when I looked up again, I saw that vortex opening right there in front of me.” Nathan stared at the clouds for a moment and sighed. “But then something else happened to me and I started to slow down. I felt myself growing heavier and heavier. I knew they were doing something to me. I could feel them. Working on my body. Trying to revive me. But instead of going all the way back, I suddenly felt myself sinking. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I was falling. I fell through those clouds and sort of crashed in the mountains.”

    “Crashed, huh?” Mitch narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t think that could happen. I thought this place was only for us sinners.”

    “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t think it’s ever happened before. Or at least not very often. But right after I landed in the mountains, I heard God speaking to me. He said He had a job for me to do here and that’s why He didn’t let me go back.”

    “A job?” Mitch recalled what Nathan had told him in the bookstore when they had first met. That God had sent him.

    “Yeah. To help you get back.”

    “You’re telling me God sent you here just to help me get back into my body?”

    “That’s what I told you before.”

    “I didn’t believe you before,” Mitch said. “What does God want with me?”

    “I figure He wants to give you a second chance.”

    “To do what?”

    “Mitch—” Nathan smiled—“a second chance at life. A chance to break away from the consequences of your past and change the direction your life is headed. To follow a new course.”

    Mitch’s lips tightened. Exactly how much had God revealed to this guy about him? Mitch had managed to keep most of those dark memories boxed up. Locked away, out of mind. But they would sometimes try to haunt him. At night, they would burst into his dreams like uninvited guests. And he would see his mother again—emaciated, pallid, and suffering. He would feel her again, struggling under the pillow. Struggling against him.

    But then he would wake up in a cold sweat and lock those memories away. Back inside. Deep inside.

    “What do you know about my life? What makes you such an expert?”

    Nathan removed the blue stick of chalk from his coat pocket.

    Mitch rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s right. The magic chalk.”

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