Today after school I plan on going back to the palm. I only have two sessions left with Virginia and one of my appointments is this afternoon. Call me crazy but I’m actually looking forward to meeting with her. I have so much that I want to tell her and I do want to thank her for encouraging me to resolve things with my mother.
The school day moves along slower than dripping molasses and as the final bell rings I make a mad dash for the door. I scurry down the school hallway until I reach the front exit of the campus but my sprint comes to a halt as Lindsay quickly steps in front of me. I’m out of breath and in no mood to deal with her.
“Just the person I was looking for,” she says.
“What is it now?” I ask.
“I heard that you’ve created some problems lately. Did you know a lot of people actually believe that you talked to God?”
“What’s your point?” I ask. She looks angered by the fact that I’m not engaged in this conversation.
“My point is you’re a liar,” she declares.
“How do you know I’m lying? Are you saying that divine intervention isn’t possible?” I ask. I walk around her and continue to make my way off campus.
“My father told me why you got kicked out of your last school! It’s all over now Zenny,” she shouts.
I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to face her. “Excuse me?”
“I know the truth,” she says. “You go around making up these ridiculous stories to cover up the fact that you live a pathetic life. Once everyone in class finds out, they’ll all hate you. Then when the entire school finds out you’ll definitely be expelled. I warned you. Trash like you doesn’t belong at my school and I’ll do whatever it takes to have you thrown out.”
For a moment I feel threatened, only for a moment. At this point in my life my only concern is finding the truth. Lindsay has become the last thing on my mind.
I swiftly walk closer to her and she steps back. “You know what?” I start. “Do what you need to do. There are bigger things going on in this world than you and me. I don’t have time for this.”
I continue to walk away as she yells. “You’re going to be sorry! You’ll never be able to step foot on this campus or any other school again. Do you know who my father is? You’re done!”
All of a sudden I hear a small voice shout. “She’s telling the truth!”
I turn back around to see where it is coming from. Lindsay is also searching for the speaker. From behind a tall pine tree a short Asian girl steps out towards us. I recognize her from my Chemistry class. Her name is Daisy and I’ve never actually heard her speak. She was the type that tried to hide in group photos, always looked at the ground as she walked, and sat alone at lunch time playing with a Rubik’s Cube.
“Who are you?” yells Lindsay.
“I’m Daisy. I sit right behind you in English,” she says timidly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” says Lindsay sarcastically, “what I meant was why are you talking right now?”
Daisy glances at me nervously and looks down at the ground before she speaks. “I know Zenny isn’t lying, because I said a prayer at the palm tree last week and it has already come true.”
“Yeah whatever,” says Lindsay.
“I’m not lying!” yells Daisy. Her shout is the volume of a normal speaking tone. “My grandmother was very sick and now she’s completely healed and nobody knows why. Even her doctors are amazed. They all said it was impossible for her to get better and they thought she would be dead in a few more weeks.”
It was her. The small voice I heard by the palm that day. I didn’t see her there but I guess she hid in the background. She was the one that delivered the only unselfish prayer.
“Zenny isn’t lying,” Daisy repeats.
“Are you kidding me?” Lindsay steps up to Daisy and stands over her to intimidate. “You might want to start minding your own business.”
Daisy keeps her head bowed. “You can ask anyone in my family,” she defends.
“Leave her alone,” I say and I walk towards Lindsay with my fists balled up at my sides. I’m prepared to fight if that’s what it takes to end her tirade. She can’t torment me anymore and her bullying Daisy sets me off. I stop a few feet away and shift into a fighting position I once saw in a Karate movie. Lindsay turns to face me and laughs.
“Bring it freak,” she says, and then she puts her fists up to show she accepts my challenge. I can imagine how ridiculous this looks as two Catholic school girls stand in a battle stance.
Before either of us has the chance to strike there is another interruption.
“What is going on here?” Mr. White runs up and looks at each of us frantically. We remain in our Kung Fu poses. “Stop this right now!” he yells. “Both of you go to the office!”
***
I spend the next fifteen minutes listening to Lindsay tell Mr. White that I’m an abomination to the school and that I need to be removed before I cause any more damage.
“I, along with several other prominent people in this town, take pride in caring for the memorial of Professor Hamling and assuring it’s not defiled or destroyed,” says Lindsay. “But ever since we found her there she’s turned that poor man’s memorial into some kind of joke and a spot of tourism for all the students.”
She couldn’t be more wrong. I almost feel bad for her since she believes the palm is only serving as a memory, because I’ve seen the significance behind its existence. I remain surprisingly calm knowing that outside these doors there is something extraordinary waiting to be discovered. Even if I get asked to leave the school this is not the end of me.
I casually pull out a bag of pretzels from my satchel bag and start snacking on them as Lindsay continues her outburst. As I crunch down on the salty bites she seems to become more enraged and slaps the bag out of my hand.
Mr. White quickly rises to his feet and asks Lindsay to leave his office and go home. Before she exits she looks directly at Mr. White. “If you don’t handle this I’ll be sure my father does, and he hates being bothered with nonsense,” she says.
As she walks out I yell, “You owe me a dollar for those pretzels!” Then she slams the door.
“Zenny,” says Mr. White as he shakes his head to condone my pettiness.
“I’m sorry sir,” I start, “I just think she’s a little over the top and she’s got it all wrong. I don’t understand why she hates me so much but she has plenty to say about me. And now I’m late for an appointment that I have.”
“I hope you realize the seriousness of this situation,” he interrupts. “I had already told you that if there were any other incidents of questionable behavior that we would have to take some type of action to correct you. Now I’m hearing that you’ve created another story and this time it involves God?” he asks.
I don’t know how to respond to this so I sit in silence and await his verdict. If I told him what really happened he would think I was crazy and even though God didn’t speak to me I now believe that He is somehow involved in all of this.
“I assume by now you know the story behind that palm tree?” he asks.
I nod to confirm.
“And you only recently started to believe in God’s existence, am I correct?” he asks.
I nod again, slowly this time. I’m surprised by his intuition.
“Well, then you may be unfamiliar with the idea that God works in mysterious ways,” says Mr. White. “Sometimes he uses people to help you get to where you need to be. He has a plan for all of us.” He pauses and starts to walk over to the bookcase that is in the corner of his office.
“Are you aware that Professor Hamling was a good friend of mine?” he asks.
“I had no idea” I say. I’m all ears now.
“Yes,” he smiles, “he actually gave me that painting before he passed away.” Mr. White points to the picture of the smiling fish I had inquired about on my first day. I sit and stare at the painting. The painting, the one I had first seen in Dr. Bloom’s office, is now provoking an emotion other than curiosity. It’s giving me hope.
“I believe that you saw something at that palm tree Zenny because I once saw something there too,” he says.
I break my gaze from the painting and look at Mr. White who now looks like he has tears in his eyes.
“I saw a spirit that told me,” he pauses for a moment; it appears that he is trying to compose himself. “The spirit told me that God needed me to help someone very special. And when the time came for me to do my part I would know what to do.”
Mr. White reaches for a book from the shelf. “Apparently you are ready to begin your journey,” he steps towards me and extends his arm to hand me the book he retrieved, “and you are going to need this.” The book looks ancient as if from another century.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s a Bible,” he replies. “One of the first to ever come to existence. Only this one is very special. Lukas told me it was very important.”
I slowly reach for it to graciously accept it. As soon as I hold onto it the warmth consumes me. That warmth that I had felt at the palm is now with me again, the feeling of pure peace that gives a sense of hope. No matter what happens everything is going to be okay now.
The outside cover appears to be made of worn out brown leather. I slowly open it and see that the words inside are written in shiny copper symbols. It looks like a different language. As I turn each page the symbols begin to glow just as the palm did on that special night. I look up at Mr. White and smile as all my doubts drift away.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“I will handle the Headmaster and this situation,” he says, “I believe you need to get going to your appointment, although I’m sure we’ve done our part.”
I’m not sure what he means when he says this. I stand up quickly remembering my appointment with Virginia.
“Thanks again Mr. White,” I smile at him and he smiles back. I’m tempted to ask him a million questions but something inside me tells me to keep moving. All I can do is consider his words and take them as a piece to the puzzle I’m trying to put together.
I rush out of his office to make my way off campus. If that painting was given to him by Lukas Hamling then there’s a good chance the one hanging in Virginia’s office is also a gift from the Professor.
***
I arrive at the plaza filled with several independent doctors’ offices and small shops. Virginia’s suite rests in the center of the other businesses. It’s now past her closing time and I can only hope she’s still there.
As I get out of my car I can’t help but sprint to her front office door. But as I get closer I see the sign out front that usually reads: Denver Psychiatric Health is now replaced by a much more prominent sign: Office Space for Lease.
My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. This has to be a mistake. Perhaps my excitement caused me to go to the wrong entrance. I run to the next door that holds a sign for holistic healing, the next was a chiropractic office, and the following an orthopedic practice. I see a man exit the holistic healing suite closing up and locking the doors behind him.
“Excuse me!” I shout and jog towards him. “Do you know what happened to the psychiatrist office that was in Suite 385?”
The man looks perplexed and examines me. “There has never been a psychiatrist office in this plaza,” he says. He dismissively turns and walks away.
“Yes there was. It was here a couple of weeks ago. Dr. Virginia Bloom ran the office,” I say.
He continues to walk to his car. “That office has been vacant for at least nine months. Are you lost?” he asks and looks at me nervously.
A girl running around demanding to see her psychiatrist that apparently was never there, he probably thinks I’m insane.
“Maybe I am just lost,” I say.
He gives me a disturbed look and then gets in his car and drives off. I stand alone in a vacant parking lot. I’m trying to understand the rapid stream of events that have just occurred in the past two hours. There is one thing I’m sure of but still can’t comprehend; Virginia Bloom has disappeared as if she never existed.
Before I get back in my car to leave the plaza I notice a piece of bright pink paper lying in the middle of the parking lot. I slowly walk over to it to pick it up and I brush off some dirt and a twig that’s stuck to it. There are words written in fancy cursive on one side of the paper. It reads: “In this world you live a dream. Things are not always what they seem.”