Chapter Twenty-Two
Eyes wide open, staring down the long, eight foot wide, dark gray tiled
hallway, both Dr. Taylor and Nurse Gilbert looked first to their left and then
to their right.
What could have caused that momentary flash? It was so bright; it was literally blinding, even inside the main office located at the end of the corridor.
Even though both James and Mary continued to strain their eyes to the point that jagged, thin red veins formed inside the whites of their eyes, nothing out of the ordinary could be found. Each refrigerated human storage shelf lining this eerie corridor was still closed. Both of the morgue’s operating rooms remained dark, their mahogany doors shut. And nothing could be seen inside the currently unlit, twenty by thirty-foot Pre-op room, except a shady, silvery outline of two metallic carts – one, which contained the sheet-covered corpse of a fourteen-year-old male Dr. Taylor hoped soon to perform an autopsy on.
“I don’t see anything that would have caused it. How about you, Mary?” James asked, turning to face his nurse-friend as she flipped the light switch inside the doorway of Operating Room #2.
All lights flickered on, causing Nurse Gilbert to grimace. “No. Nothing unusual in here, James,” she answered, flipping the switch back off and slamming the door shut. “Let’s check the storage room, even though I’ve never seen anyone go in there except the third shift janitor.”
“Okay. If you want to,” James agreed, and they continued their progression down the hallway. “But it’ll probably be a waste of time.”
Mary half smiled. “I know. But what’s there to lose? The light had to come from somewhere. And it obviously wasn’t from the operating rooms or any of the fluorescents in the hallway.”
James turned and gazed at the light fixtures above them once again since they had started their investigation. It seemed that he believed by taking a second look, he’d be able to locate which mysterious bulb was trying to play a trick on them.
Today’s fluorescent tubes are known for sometimes supernaturally flashing the moment their mercury vapor and argon gas-filled souls’ decide to burn themselves out. And you never know. Maybe this time I’ll find a dead one.
In seeing each bulb performing normally, Hmmp. No such luck, he later sighed.
Mary grabbed the storage closet’s metallic door handle and gave it a yank downward.
“Oh,” She said, sounding disappointed upon noticing the bulb inside the broom closet-sized space was a standard 60-watt incandescent. “This certainly couldn’t have caused what we saw.”
James chuckled as his female friend closed the closet door. “I didn’t think they used a fluorescent inside there.”
“Well, Mr. Smarty pants,” Mary replied, giving him a scowl and placing both hands on the side of her hips. “If you didn’t think one was in there, why didn’t you just say so, so I wouldn’t have wasted my time looking? Were you in need of a cheap laugh at my expense?”
“No. And please don’t get your feathers all ruffled so easily Mary. That wasn’t it at all,” James said, moving his palms to a defensive posture upon seeing Mary’s cheeks turn red with anger.
The left corner of Mary’s lips slightly raised and her accompanying narrowed eyes clearly articulated she didn’t believe him. “Oh really. Then why did you laugh?”
“W-e-l-l. To be honest. I honestly didn’t mean to, but …” James began, when his apology rapidly cut itself short – the moment the morgue’s entranceway unexpectedly opened, and Craig Matthews stepped inside. It appeared that for some unknown reason, the doctor wasn’t extremely happy.
“Could I help you, Dr. Matthews, Sir?” James said, humbling himself while approaching the doorway.
Dr. Matthews stopped to gaze into their Pre-op room before answering. In seeing his former patient covered with a cotton sheet and apparently still very dead, “Yes,” he said. “Have either one of you noticed anything unusual down here, let’s say, in the past couple of hours or so?”
“Unusual? What do you mean, doctor?” James replied, raising an eyebrow. “No. … There hasn’t been anything out of the ordinary I’m aware of.” He then turned toward Nurse Gilbert and discreetly winked. “Have you seen anything unusual Mary?”
“No,” she concurred, directly facing Dr. Matthews. “Everything’s been quiet down here. Why? Were you expecting something, doctor?”
Craig frowned. “No. Not really. It’s just that… well … On my way down here I ran into Mrs. Pontiac and her son, Nathan, and the youngster wants to see his brother.”
“Oh?” James replied, looking a bit curious. “What for?”
Dr. Matthews flushed. “Well … you see,” he said before hesitating. “The Pontiac’s are the religious sort. You know. Believing in God and all. And … well, for some unknown reason young Nathan has come to believe that God is going to bring his brother back to life.”
“God is going to bring Paul Pontiac back to life?” James repeated, half choking on his words. “I would hardly think so. I haven’t seen a patient yet who found their way down here … come back.”
Mary nodded her agreement.
“So Paul Pontiac is still dead?” Craig questioned, glancing one additional time in the direction of the teenage corpse.
“Yes. Very definitely so,” James replied, and the three of them began to head toward Pre-op.
As soon as Dr. Taylor passed through the double-door entryway, Nurse Gilbert flipped on a nearby light switch and the three of them positioned themselves at the head of the steel cart Paul’s body was lying on. James then stopped to study Dr. Matthews’ facial expression, before lowering the section of the sheet currently covering his patient’s head.
About a millisecond later, when James moved the sheet a couple of feet downward, everyone present could see Paul’s lifeless dark-brown eyes staring deadpan at the ceiling above and that his cheeks had already begun to turn various shades of bluish-green.
“If anyone ever had a doubt, it’s obvious no life-sustaining respiration exists. Paul indeed, is quite dead … just as I thought,” Craig boldly stated as his lips formed a small smile. “Once dead. Always dead. I guess I just haven’t succeeded in transforming into a god yet.”
“You’re trying to turn into a god?” James said, his eyes wide in sheer amazement. He then looked at Mary, who shared the same expression.
“Figuratively, yeah. And it would have been helpful right about now if I could have. … Poor eight-year-old Nathan Pontiac is absolutely sure God,” Craig stated, before stopping to emphasize the word "God" by making double quotes with his fingers. “… has told him Paul would soon be alive.”
“You must be joking?” James and Mary responded in unison, staring at each other, before turning to face Dr. Matthews. “Was the kid high on something? What he’s suggesting would take the type of miracle that hasn’t occurred since the Old Testament days.”
“I know,” Craig confirmed as if he was familiar with the miraculous works within the Old Testament. “Personally I think the boy is simply overwhelmed with grief, and it’s causing his imagination to run wild.”
“That would make sense,” Mary nodded, pulling the sheet back over their patient’s head. “So what are you going to tell Mrs. Pontiac?”
“The truth. I guess.”
The door at the morgue’s entrance then creaked opened and soon afterwards, Mrs. Pontiac rolled young Nathan inside the hallway. Upon locating Dr. Matthews inside Pre-op, she smiled a brief smile.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Matthews,” she began as soon as he approached them. “But we waited for you to return to the Employee’s lounge for quite a long while and Nathan kept bugging me about …”
Dr. Matthews instinctively looked down at her handicapped son and displayed a perfunctory smile. “I understand, Mrs. Pontiac. But do you really think letting Nathan see your older boy’s corpse is a good idea? You know he’s still …”
“Dead?” Mrs. Pontiac unconsciously blinked her eyes and swallowed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Craig confirmed. He then gazed toward James and Mary. “Dr. Taylor and I have just completed a visual inspection, Mrs. Pontiac, and I’m sorry to report that the miracle Nathan had hoped to occur – hasn’t.”
“I see,” she automatically replied, then slid over to Nathan’s wheelchair’s left side and crouched down so she could directly face her youngest. “I’m sorry, Nathan,” she said, her voice containing a noticeable quiver. “I’m afraid your brother is still in Paradise with our Heavenly Father.”
“No he’s not, Aunt Ellen,” Nathan insisted as he stretched his hand, so he could wipe the tear which had formed in the corner of his stepmother’s eye. “You just need to believe – the same way we’re told to in the Bible.”
“Believe?” Dr. Matthews repeated, looking first at Ellen and then toward Nathan. “What’s there to believe? What we have here is clearly factual. No matter what they may have taught you in your Sunday School class, son, when a person dies, they remain dead. That’s just the way life is.”
“Oh really?” Nathan looked up and gave Paul’s cardiologist a defiant stare. “And how would you know? Are you God or something?”
“Nathan!” Ellen yelped, glaring at her youngest while almost falling backwards. “How dare you be so rude? Now tell Dr. Matthews you’re sorry. Dr. Matthews here is a certified professional, and he did his absolute best to try to save your brother’s life. Therefore, he certainly doesn’t deserve any disrespect from you.”
Nathan continued to glower at the doctor for an additional second, then lowered his head and folded both arms. “I’m sorry,” he quietly mumbled. “But God did tell me …”
“I know,” Dr. Matthews said, interrupting him. “Your mother already told me. However, what you don’t realize son, is the fact that when people get extremely upset, they sometimes trick themselves into believing the impossible. And I have reason to believe that’s what happened here.”
“It has? You think I’ve tricked myself?” Nathan looked deeply into Dr. Mathews face, and a hint of self-doubt began to appear within his own.
“Is there any way possible we could show him Paul hasn’t returned?” Ellen asked as the doctor resumed an upright position. “As a High School Guidance Counselor, I am starting to believe what Nathan needs the most is closure, and it’s going to take seeing his brother to do that.”
Craig grabbed his chin in thought and considered it for a second. “I don’t believe it’s normally allowed,” he said, more to himself than to Ellen. “However, if Dr. Taylor …”
“If Dr. Taylor, what?” James asked, looking at Dr. Matthews as he and Nurse Gilbert came up to join them.
“Mrs. Pontiac would like for Nathan to view her older son’s body,” Craig stated, pointing towards the younger boy’s wheelchair. “He still believes Paul is going to come back to life.”
“He does?” James glanced at Nathan as if the kid was some type of alien oddball. “Didn’t you clearly explain …?”
“Yes, he did,” Ellen firmly replied. “But Nathan’s not accepting it. And it seems to me that showing him Paul’s corpse is going to be the only way he’s ever going to accept reality.”
“I see.” James looked over his shoulder to where Paul laid, and loudly exhaled. “This normally isn’t allowed Mrs. Pontiac. However, I don’t really see where any harm might occur, except Nathan will probably have some nightmares during the next few evenings.”
Ellen pursed her lips and nodded that she understood.
“Well. Okay then,” James said, opening the door to Pre-op. “Let the ghostly tour begin.”
“Are you sure you want to see this, Son?” Ellen asked Nathan the moment she parked his wheelchair near the steel cart where, once uncovered, Nathan would be able to clearly see the right side of his brother’s face.
“Yes,” Nathan said in almost a whisper.
“Fine. But please remember, you insisted.” Glancing upward, Ellen shut her eyes as if she was about to say a quick silent prayer. “Let’s proceed, Doctor.”
Taking hold of the cotton sheet where it covered the edge of the steel cart, Dr. Taylor gently raised it, as if by doing it slowly, it would lessen the shock he knew the juvenile in front of him would soon experience.
Come on, Paul. Be alive! Nathan mentally shouted as he watched the sheet pass below his brother’s front bangs. God told me you’d return. So do it!
Eyes fixated, Ellen stared as the sheet passed over her older son’s discolored nose and lips. Then without realizing it, a sob escaped.
“I am so sorry, son,” she suddenly began to wail with a deep emotion that had been totally unknown for her to display during the last ten years she was married to Paul’s abusive, alcoholic father. “I should have somehow protected you … but I …”
Nathan’s face became as glazed as the frozen ice around the North Pole as he stared at his older half brother, his personal hero and computer-programming god. The shock of the morbid sight before him was clearly overwhelming.
“I don’t understand,” he said as Mary walked up and placed her hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “God told me … He …”
Though Nathan’s mouth remained open, and he wanted to express his belief, the words refused to be spoken.
“It’s okay, Son,” Craig replied, while motioning for Dr. Taylor to cover Paul’s corpse. “We all make mistakes.”
Nathan watched as salty tears flowed down both cheeks. “But I didn’t make a mistake Doctor…”
“Matthews,” Craig completed for him as Mrs. Pontiac, still quietly sobbing, was being led toward the door.
“Whatever. What it seems you don’t understand, Doctor Matthews, is,” Nathan continued. “Paul has to be alive. God told me he would … and God does not lie!” He then turned so he could view his brother’s covered face.
“Paul! It’s time to come home!” Nathan shouted from the top of his eight-year-old lungs for what seemed to be a completely inexplicable reason. “And in the name of Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father, I order you to live!”
Upon hearing Nathan’s blaring demand, all present within the room instantly turned and stared at Paul’s corpse.
A second passed. … then two seconds … then five, and ten seconds passed.
Nothing. No flash of light. No booming thunder. Nothing. … No miracle occurred.
“I’m sorry, Nathan,” Craig stated, mentally re-gathering himself after seeing what he considered young Nathan’s absolute ridiculous display. “Your brother isn’t going to…”
Nathan shook his head and his brown pupils suddenly widened. He then began to point in Paul’s direction.
“I’m not going to what?” Paul nonchalantly asked Dr. Matthews while the white cotton sheet dropped to his waist as he leaned forward and slung his legs over the side of the table.
His exposed healed chest revealed a heavenly glow.