If_the_Spirit_Is_Willing_by_HD_Nels

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Megan had been fuming since her brother made his announcement, and hadn’t been able to shake her anger, even after he left. Her twin was the most handsome man any of her friends had ever seen, and she had been proud of their reverent attitude towards him. Their parents had spoken with her after Martin left, but she still wouldn’t come to terms with his announcement. Of course, she loved her brother and always would, but how could he do this to her? She had gone to her room to settle in and read before sleeping, when she heard the phone ring. Her father took the call, and she heard her mother’s voice shaking as her father talked. There was a quiet knock on her door, and it opened. Her father appeared devastated.

“There’s been an accident, sweetheart. I just had a call from the police. They got our number from a cell phone they recovered at the scene. The car is too badly damaged to get any identification papers. From the physical description, it sounds like Martin. He’s in a hospital and they…” He had to stop, had to compose himself. He looked up, pinched his lips together, blinked back tears, and blew out a big breath. “They think we should come as soon as we can. He might not make it.”

Megan had a hard time processing what she just heard. Martin was dying? That couldn’t happen. They had dinner, laughed their asses off at their mom’s story, and shared that magnificent snow pudding. She’d been angry when he left. He couldn’t die thinking she hated him. She got dressed, helped her parents to her car, and punched in the name of the hospital in the GPS. Don’t you dare die before we get there, you fucker, she thought. Just don’t even think about it.

The trip seemed to take forever, instead of the ninety minutes that actually passed. They made their way into the hospital and after asking a few people, were able to find Martin. Her father sucked in a breath, her mother had to look away, but Megan just stared. It was her brother, and he appeared to be in very bad shape. A physician approached, and introduced himself.

“I’m Dr. Edwards. Would you come with me to a briefing room? You can return shortly. I think we should discuss things in private.”

The family followed him to a small room. Mrs. Provost sat with her back straight and shoulders tense as she held on tightly to her purse strap. “Martin Provost is your son, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Mr. Provost’s voice was almost a whisper.

“His car was struck head-on by an impaired driver. Martin sustained multiple serious injuries and during the surgery to stabilize him, he suffered a stroke due to a blood clot that temporarily blocked blood flow to his brain. We can’t assess the degree of damage yet, but felt you should be here.”

Megan roused herself from her shock. “When can you find out how bad things might be? What can we do to help?”

“I know this is a difficult time for you and I don’t want to add to your distress. It will take some time before we can make a detailed assessment, days, or maybe even weeks.” His voice softened. “Did your son ever discuss organ donation? I’m asking because, worst case scenario, we won’t have a lot of time.”

Megan took charge. “He and I discussed it a few times. He would want to be a donor, but I don’t know if he ever signed a card. I’ll take care of whatever paperwork you need.”

Her mother’s shoulders began to shake. “My baby can’t die before me.”

* * * *

Martin knew he wasn’t awake, but he wasn’t dreaming either. He was just aware. It felt as though all his senses stopped working. He tried to recall something, anything that could give him some idea of what had happened. He had no recollection. He just was, and that didn’t make sense to him. He wasn’t in darkness, but there was nothing distinct that he saw. Slowly, an image formed in his mind, something familiar, but he couldn’t place from where. A deacon’s bench materialized in his mind’s eye. He felt himself drawn to it, and while it felt solid to him, everything around appeared as if he was looking through opaque glass. He vaguely made out a man’s shape, and sensed fear from it. Suddenly, he was pulled away and found himself back where he started. He felt comfort from that bench, and wanted to go back, but he didn’t remember how he got there before.

Martin began to feel as though he was drifting, and soon he became aware of another consciousness. He was sitting somewhere, but he couldn’t move. He saw a very handsome man approach him, and couldn’t take his gaze from those beautiful blue eyes. The eyes held concern. Martin spoke quietly, and the man had to lean in to hear him. He knew when he saw him that this man was going to do something.

“I’m Martin. You’re going to save my life.” He had no idea why he said that, but it was the first thought that came to his mind, after the one about how beautiful this man was. Almost immediately, the other man was gone, and he was alone. Martin wanted to see that face again, and wanted the comfort from that wooden bench. As he thought that, he realized he was sitting on the bench, and he could see that same man standing near him, holding a cup. He wanted to speak, to touch the man. He needed physical contact to know he was well, but he couldn’t seem to do either. The man hurried away from him, and soon Martin was back to the beginning.

He heard voices, but they sounded very far off. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, or even where the sound came from. There was something vaguely familiar about them, but he didn’t know what. He knew the handsome man at the bench could see him. He needed to get back there so he could start to make sense of things. But back there from where? He knew he wasn’t there, but had no idea where he was now. He felt as though he was anchored, and couldn’t get away from here to get back to his bench. He wondered if that other place was his, because the two times he was briefly there, it felt right. He would have to try to remember how he got there before. He refused to give up on getting back and talking to the man he saw, the one with the beautiful eyes.