Lucian Divine(58)
In that cold, sterile hospital room, I watched her trying her hardest to put on a brave face. But I could always see right through her, into her soul. I could see and feel the pain she was enduring after losing another baby. It was all my fault, and I might have been dying from the guilt alone.
“Mom,” Evey said from her bed. Jane turned to face her daughter. “I’m sorry we didn’t call you. They were running tests on Lucian, and I was feeling terrible.”
“I know, DD, but I could have been here for you both.” They hugged. Evey hadn’t been terribly close to her mother growing up. There was a lot of pressure on Evey to be perfect, especially from her mom, but I was sensing a change in both of them. Jane turned back to me. “Have they figured out why you had a seizure, you poor thing?”
“No. No explanation. Just a fluke, I guess.” Well, Jane, you see, I’m a guardian angel who is probably experiencing some sort of cosmic breakdown that is affecting the physical body I hang out in.
“It’s a very serious thing, you know?” She brushed my cheek with her smooth hand. In that moment, I wished I had had a mother.
“I know. I’m scared.”
She hugged me for the second time that day. “Don’t be scared. They’ll figure it out. Have faith.”
That word again.
Evey’s father entered the room and went straight to Evey. They had always been a lot closer than Evey and her mother. “Ah, DD, I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
Evey started crying. “I’m sorry too, Dad. I wanted to give you guys a grandchild so bad.”
Each word in that sentence felt like a knife being thrust into the center of my chest. With me, Evey would never be able to give her parents a grandchild; I knew that, and I was finally able to admit it.
A WEEK WENT by, then two, then three. We were able to clean up the loft and move in. It still needed a lot of work to make it the perfect work/living space, but Evey was knocking it out with relentless energy. I had never seen her so independent and determined. She was growing up… changing. Sometimes I felt like she didn’t need me anymore, like I was just a boat anchor holding her back. In a matter of a few months, Evey had gone from relying on Tracey and Brooklyn for everything, to getting what she needed done, all on her own. She’d also never stood up for herself the way she did now.
We hadn’t talked about anything serious since our last day in the hospital. We spent our time working on the loft and getting ready for Brooklyn’s wedding. Every day, I got weaker and weaker, but I kept it to myself. I hadn’t had another seizure. I also hadn’t told Evey anything about what I had heard that day while I was seizing on the floor of the San Francisco General Hospital lobby.
The night before Brooklyn’s wedding, I collapsed in the stairwell of the loft building. The elevator was being serviced, so I had to climb three flights. I was heaving and out of breath when Evey found me.
“What’s going on, Lucian?”
Holding my chest, I said, “I just need to catch my breath. I’ll be okay.”
She helped me to the top of the stairs, where we both sat.
“I’m ready to talk,” she said.
“Did you finish the speech for Brooke’s wedding?”
“Not about that.”
I shook my head and lifted my pant leg to reveal my calves, which had also begun to turn pale and bluish. “I have to tell you something.”
She nodded, eyes wide.
“When I had the seizure, I heard a voice.”
“Whose voice?”
“I’m not sure.” That was the truth.
“What did the voice say?”
It was hard to explain. “It wasn’t words. Just sounds, like frequencies and chanting.”
“What does it mean?” she asked irritably.
“Those were the sounds I heard when I was made. When I was born.”
“I don’t understand.”
Turning my body toward her, I touched my fingertips to her neck and felt her fast pulse. I tried to use my energy to calm her down. “Evey, they’re calling me back.”
“You’re dying,” she said immediately. It wasn’t a question. She already knew.
“I think so.”
“But you’re responding to the medication. Maybe a doctor or a specialist can help you.”
“No, Evey.” I pulled her head into my chest. “Not this time, my girl.”
She pulled away and scowled. “No, I won’t let this happen. We have to try.”
What I knew that I couldn’t explain to her was that the sounds I’d heard calling me back were not asking for permission. I didn’t have a choice. I was silenced by whatever had created me.
“Evelyn, listen to me, when I’m gone, you won’t remember any of this. You’ll go on.”
“You’ve said that already. But I don’t want to go on without you.”
“You won’t know anything else. You won’t remember. Believe me.”
“What if I do?”
“You won’t.” I couldn’t bear to see her like this. I wanted to end it all right there, but I was a coward. “I should not have done this to you.”
“What will happen to your soul when you’re gone? Will I see you again?” she asked.