The Threes
Chapter 4
Shocks
"He's awake, Mrs. Ainsworth," a strange voice said.
I opened my one eye and saw my mother approaching my bed. I was in the hospital,
again.
"Oh, Val!" my mother sniffed. "I thought we would lose you this time. I never
knew that you had a cat's nine lives, dear. But, stop using those lives already,
will you?"
"I guess I should," I said, every word sending a needle of pain into my empty
eye socket. "Is father here, too?"
"Of course, he's just taking a nap. It's about three in the morning. Some time
to wake up!"
"Oh, I'm sorry for inconveniencing you," I grinned. That also made the sore area
throb with pain. "I'd like to see him, too."
"I'll go and wake him up."
I had a stupid, happy smile on my face. I couldn't help it. It felt so good to
have my parents around. Still, I needed a moment alone.
The challenge of the Threes is over, I thought. Does it mean...?
I grabbed a fistful of the blanket and lifted it three times in a row. Before
lifting it the fourth time, I took a deep breath. Without concentrating on a
specific intention, I lifted the blanket. It works! The rule of three times
doesn't have an effect on me anymore. It really is over.
Assured of my life returning to normal again, I settled down to wait for my
parents. Sooner than I expected, mom came back with dad. We talked for awhile,
but before long I told them to get some sleep. "Turn off the lights as you
leave," I said faking a yawn. Even to a one-eyed man it was obvious that they
hadn't been sleeping nearly enough.
I, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. There was some pain, but unless I spoke or
grinned or moved it was tolerable. The pain didn't prevent me from sleeping;
instead, I was too curious to sleep. I couldn't stop wondering about the things
my new skill was revealing to me.
I asked Ranin to give me the capability of seeing not only in the light of day
but also in his element: the dark. He gave me that, but apparently seeing in the
dark was not the same thing as seeing in the light. On the wall was a picture; I
saw it clearly in the lamplight. In the dark, I couldn't see it at all. On the
other hand, I saw the difference between the wall and the frame and between the
frame and the picture. I couldn't see colors or shades, but somehow, I saw
thicknesses and shapes. I couldn't see perspective, but somehow, I saw
temperature. It was wonderful. And strange.
*****
I couldn't wait to find out what the effects of the other two changes would turn
out to be. Unfortunately, they weren't changes that could manifest in a hospital
bed, and it took a week before I was sent home.
During my stay in the hospital Brent didn't visit me, but I wasn't worried. I
could guess the reason. But since Erika couldn't deny Brent and me the visits
that had years ago been ordered by the family court, at the first weekend after
my release from the hospital I again had my boy with me.
"Dad?" Brent asked in a quiet voice. "Are you OK? Mom didn't let me come to see
you. She told me that you looked too terrible to look at."
"Do I look terrible, Brent?" I asked gently.
"Not really," the boy said with a shy smile. "Kinda like a pirate."
"I thought so myself. I'm as strapping a fellow as Jack Sparrow, ain't I?"
"Not quite, Dad!" Brent laughed. "You've got no boat."
"Neither does Jack!"
It was a relief to see that the eye patch didn't bother Brent. We talked quite a
while, teasing each other, and just enjoying our time together. Later that
evening we talked about more serious things. My parents already told me that the
hearing that I missed because of the shooting would be held in a couple of
weeks. Brent filled me in with his mother's side of the story. I got the
distinct feeling that Erika accused me of deliberately causing the delay.
*****
The weeks before the hearing went smoothly. My mother was helping me at the
condo, again. Even though I was still in pain, I would have managed quite well
without her. Yet, when she suggested that she would stay, I accepted her gift.
My experiences with the angels had taught me to look deeper, and I saw the need
in my mother's eyes. My acceptance of help made her happier than anything else I
could have given her.
Until the hearing was just a couple of days away, I didn't try anything more
taxing than a slow walk through the park across the street. That day, it was
time to try something harder. I needed to be sure that I could manage the stress
of the hearing. So, I took a bus to a close by shopping mall. I was going to get
a haircut that would show my eye patch to full impact.
I waited for the bus with a few strangers. Nobody said a word to me or about me.
People strictly avoided looking at my face, too. In the bus there was a little
boy who pointed a finger at me and asked his mother why “that man has a pirate
patch". The mother told the child not to point "at disabled people" and to keep
his voice down. It was a familiar experience, but the point of view was new.
My life may not be controlled by the rules of the challenge anymore, but
apparently I can't get my old life back, I thought in resignation.
Otherwise, the trip to the mall was a success. Even when the bus hit a few
potholes and other bumps in the road the pain kept at a tolerable level. The
cool weather didn't bother me either, but my latest injury made it difficult to
walk from the bus stop to the mall. The uneven pavement of the sidewalk was a
hazard. I couldn't see the minute changes in the ground level: my world was
flat. Fortunately, I managed the distance from the bus stop to the mall without
falling on my face. Since I already had given up my dignity, I didn't mind a few
stumbles.
I had taken barely twenty steps inside the building complex of the mall when I
stopped in awe. Back home and in the park, I paid no attention to the sensations
of my feet. Even on my way to the mall I had focused solely on my staggering
progress. But walking inside the building I became aware of a difference. Since
my dive from the balcony, if I put a strain like a fifteen minutes of walking on
my feet, every now and then there was a stab of pain in one leg or another. A
careless step, a slip, a too quick pace: anything could be the cause.
At the moment, after quite an exercise, I felt no pain, and I knew why.
As I was making the decision on the changes I would ask from the angels I knew
that I couldn't ask them to take away the pain in my legs. I had given away
their health; there was no going back. So, as a replacement of painless moves, I
asked Jokela to provide me with grace. I thought that, even with legs prone to
aches, it would come in handy to be a good dancer.
On the sidewalk, combined with my flat eyesight, the unevenness had prevented me
from graceful movement, but at the mall the floor was flat. Even though the
music that was blaring from the loudspeakers was unsuited for the practice, I
all but danced down the corridor.
I can't take an awkward step, I laughed inside, I can't make a wrong
move! As a result, I'm spared from the pain, too!
After awhile, I wasn't sure anymore if it really had been good luck that on the
sidewalk kept me in the upright position. Maybe I can stumble gracefully!
I arrived at the hairdresser’s door a huge smile on my face.
*****
Two days later, the morning of the hearing dawned sunny and sweet. With my
attorney, I arrived at the courthouse on time, and according to my wishes, the
attorney didn't let Erika anywhere close to me. Since our case was the first of
the day, we didn't have to wait for long. Erika's attorney presented her claims
about my drinking problems to the court. My attorney brought to the court the
negative results of the blood test that was taken after the accident with the
bus. So, the hearing was proceeding just like I thought it would when the doors
of the court room were forcibly opened, and a woman rushed in.
"Your Honor, I'm sorry to interrupt the proceedings," the woman said, "but Mrs.
Erika Wendell and Mr. Valentine Ainsworth are needed at the hospital. Their son
was in an accident and was brought there in critical condition."
I rose up and was about to run out of the room, but my attorney grabbed my arm.
"Wait a minute!" he said. "In the case the hearing should go on this morning, do
you…"
"Yes!” I chimed in. “Do whatever needs to be done." I shook his hand off and ran
out.
Without a thought wasted on the hearing, I hailed a cab. The drive to the
hospital took all my patience, and more. As more and more minutes ticked away, I
was beyond frantic. Please, Lord, let me be on time! I prayed. I wasn't
sure why I had to get to the hospital on time, or what the time in question was,
but that was what I felt.
At last! I thought when the big white building came in sight, then went
on with, Please, please, please! Let the green light hold... When we
arrived at the hospital, I was close to a nervous meltdown. Even the moment it
took to pay for the ride seemed to last an eternity and a half. At least.
I headed right to the information desk and asked where I could find my son.
Promptly, I got the directions and ran down the halls and corridors, without one
thought to what people might think about me. My dignity was gone, and I didn't
miss it.
Finally, I reached the emergency room. I was led to a bed where Brent was lying,
unconscious and pale.
"Mr. Ainsworth?" someone called from behind me.
"Yes," I told the female doctor that was approaching in a hurried pace. "What's
wrong with my son, doctor...?"
"Ellen Rodgers. Your son was in the school bus that was hit by a car. The driver
had lost control of the vehicle. Unfortunately, Brent was sitting right on the
row of seats that suffered the most damage. He has internal injuries, and he has
lost a lot of blood. We have stabilized him for the moment, and currently we are
waiting for the operating room to be readied for him. He needs surgery; without
it he won't make it. There's no other way of repairing the damage. Would you
sign the papers, please?"
"Of course!" I took the papers and, without even perusing the text, quickly
signed them. "I guess you'll need also my ex-wife's signature: we have joint
custody. But tell me; is he going to be OK?"
"We are doing our best; that's all I can promise at the moment."
Oh, Lord! I thought in anguish. She doesn't know if he will live!
Please...
Hi, Val. Startlingly, I heard the greeting in my mind.
Here, by the window.
I took a look around and saw that only one person was sitting by the window, a
woman with silver gray hair. The features of her face were familiar if not the
color.
Rinne? Is it really you?
Yes. I came down here to help you, if needed. I'm afraid that your son isn't
going to pull through.
My throat constricted, and my knees all but buckled. I had to sit down.
Is it so bad?
I'm so sorry, Val.
Rinne stood up and walked to me. She gave me some papers that to my surprise
were empty. "Just a decoy," she explained, changing to speech. "Do you need a
hug, or would it break you?"
"A hug would feel good right now, yes," I admitted, and she took me in her arms.
Her profound presentness replenished my strength, and soon I was ready to let
her go. "Thanks," I said, discreetly wiping my eyes. "What happened?"
"As the doctor told you, there was an accident. Brent was sitting on the aisle
seat, but just before the hit he stood up and pulled away the much younger child
that was sitting at the window seat and lifted her to the aisle. He tried to get
out of harm’s way, too, but the car was moving too fast. He suffered injuries to
his insides, back, and hip."
I couldn't stop tears from falling. "Is there anything...?" I pleaded in a
broken voice.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help him."
"But..."
"I'm so sorry."
Rinne took my hand, and I squeezed it, my lifeline, with my cold, cold fingers.
*****
While I was talking with Rinne, unnoticed by me, Erika and Malcolm arrived at
the hospital. When, at last, the operating room was ready to swallow my boy,
Erika had given her consent to the procedure, too, so there was no more delay.
Rinne led us to a waiting room close to the theater and left. However, for
awhile she was still with me in my mind. We didn't talk, but her presence helped
me get through the first agonizing minutes of the wait. When the surgery had
lasted about thirty minutes and nothing untoward had happened, I started to
relax, a little. Gradually, I felt Rinne's presence fading, but she didn't sever
the link completely.
I was too restless to keep still. Erika sent fist-sized glances my way, but they
didn't stop me from standing up and pacing.
Why, Lord? I already sacrificed my life for his. Was it not enough? I
wailed. What can I do now? I would do anything, anything for my only son...
Suddenly, Rinne went perfectly still in my thoughts. She was there, but I felt
nothing from her.
Rinne?
I probed carefully towards the angel, but she didn't react. Somehow I knew that
she was monitoring my thoughts, but she was careful not to touch my thoughts in
any way.
What happened? Did I do something? Or...Did I misunderstand something?
Heavens! With Rinne, that's likely!
What was I...? I called back the line of thought that resulted in Rinne's
stillness. Yeah, I was thinking that giving up my life for Brent's wasn't
enough. I already did that, and yet again he's about to die. Then I asked what I
could do now, what else is there that a father could do? I would do any...
Is that it?
Is there still something I can do? But didn't Rinne just say that there was
nothing that could be done?
Did she? I was so distraught when I saw her here. What did she actually say?
As if the memory had just been waiting for the question, it popped up. In my
mind's ear, I heard my own desperation as I asked, "Is there anything...?"
I couldn't even end the sentence: is there anything you could do in order to
help him? I was so afraid that I already knew her answer, and I did. "I'm
sorry, but I can't," she said.
I can't. I.
She said, "I can't." She can't, but perhaps...?
Rinne? I sent to her, mind to mind. You can't help my son, but is
there someone else who can?
Yes! Rinne's full attention rushed into my mind, overwhelming me. Oh,
what a bright Champion I’ve got! she sent. I knew you would figure it out!
Apparently, she was happy.
So, who is it? Who can help my son? I couldn't help smiling. Her
happiness was catching.
My smile froze, though. She told me.
*****
Of course, in order to save my son, I took the one chance I was offered. Thus, I
found myself in a bus in the process of being destroyed, with Brent. The words I
exchanged with Rinne were still echoing in my mind.
“Brent risked his life in an attempt to save a little girl’s life, Val,” Rinne
told me. “You know what that means.”
“You want to offer him the Challenge, don’t you?”
“Not Ranin, Jokela and me, but another triplet of angels, yes.”
“But he’s just a child!”
“Yes, and that’s one more reason to offer him a chance of saving his life. No
angel wants to see a child die.”
“Not to mention that every challenge is a chance to give birth to three more
angels.”
“Of course.”
“And, not to mention that every challenge is a chance to become a colored
angel.”
“That too.”
“Is there nothing else you can do in order to save little children!?”
“No.”
“So the only person who can help Brent is Brent himself? And in order to do
that, Brent has to suffer three awful deaths? That’s too cruel!”
“You did it.”
“Yes, and I know exactly how cruel the Challenge is. Too cruel, I say. I can’t
let you offer the Challenge to Brent, but how can I tell you not to?” It was
hard to keep tears from leaking out.
“It’s not your choice,” Rinne said in compassionate tones, “It’s Brent’s.”
“But…” I tried to find an argument, any argument, but nothing came to mind. So,
I just repeated that meaningless but.
“Brent took the Challenge, Val.”
“Oh, no!” But the denial was not for the fact that my son had chosen the chance
to live.
“Val, listen,” Rinne took my face in her hands, forcing calmness upon my
thoughts. “As I told you, I can’t help him, but I’m allowed to get him help!”
“Help?” I grasped for a blade of grass. “What help?”
“A tutor. I’m allowed to offer to any living person that has survived the
Challenge the position of Brent’s tutor in the Challenge of the Threes. I’m
offering the position to you. Do you accept?”
“Of course! Send me to… No. Not just yet. That smile hides something, Lady.”
“Of course it does.”
“What am I getting myself into this time?”
“Is it not enough that you get a chance of helping your son?”
“To me? Yes. But, to you? I think there’s something more to this. Let me think.”
“By all means, we are in no hurry…”
“Shut up, angel, and let me think.” I retraced the track of our conversation and
found the thing that bothered me. “When I accused you angels of wanting a chance
to become colored angels, your answer was “that too”. You said that you wanted
that in addition to something else.”
“Did I now?” Rinne flashed a quick grin.
So I ended up in that bus with Brent. For a moment I was confused; then I
understood that Rinne had sent me back in time.
What I saw made me want to scream.
"Hi, son," I said in as calm tones as I could muster. "You've got yourself in
quite a mess here, I see."
"Dad?" Brent's eyes were huge, but I couldn't decide if it was from fear or from
surprise. Most likely both.
"Yeah, it's me," I said putting a grin on my face. "I'm no angel."
"I think I just saw three of them," Brent said in a hesitant, tiny voice.
"I'm sure you did, but we can talk about that later, when we've got you out of
this pinch."
"But, Dad? How did you get here? You weren't in the bus."
"No, I wasn't, but you need me, so here I am. I'm your tutor, you know, in the
Challenge."
"You know about the Challenge?" Brent's chin hit the floor.
"Yeah, and as I said, I'm your tutor. The angels wouldn't put a child through
the Challenge of the Threes all by himself, would they?"
"Guess not...but, why you?"
"I'm your father. Father's take care of their sons. But, just now we haven't got
time to keep talking about this. We need to focus on how we are going to get you
out of this situation alive." I forced myself to take another glance at the very
sharp edge of the shard of the window pane that was hovering a foot away from my
son's chest. "Tell me what you have, so far, understood about your situation."
"I think that I'm in some kind of a stretched out moment, the moment of
my...death." Brent said the last word in a quivering, little voice. I swallowed,
hard.
"You've got that right. You're suspended in time so that you can figure out..."
I started to say, but my voice betrayed me just when I was about to tell Brent
what it was he was expected to do. I couldn't speak those all important words.
It wasn't hard to come up with the cause. "Damn. Apparently, I'm not allowed to
tell you."
"Tell me what, Dad?"
"What I already know! I guess that it would ruin the attempt somehow if I just
told it to you. It seems that it's important that you find the answers yourself.
I wonder what I'm allowed to do in my role of a tutor."
"Maybe you could do what Mrs. Grant does in class. She makes us answer her
questions. She always says that by finding answers to questions we learn the
best."
"Good idea," I said approvingly. "Let me think a minute."
While I tried to come up with the right set of questions, my boy stared at me
with trusting, innocent eyes. There's no better source of motivation.
"Let's get this dance started," I said a moment later. "After your discussion
with the angels, what have you done?"
"I tried to back away, but my feet are glued to the floor."
"Anything else?"
"I tried to duck, but I can't do that either. Then you appeared."
"OK. What do you think it means that you can't move?"
"It doesn't make sense!" Brent all but sobbed. "She promised that if I take the
challenge I might survive. But how am I supposed to survive if I can't get away
from that piece of glass."
She? A-ha. One more piece of the puzzle found its place, but there were
so many missing.
"Think again what she said," I advised my son.
"She just said that: that I might survive."
"Think about it. What did she, actually, say?"
"That I...might survive," my bright boy said slowly. "I might...if.
There's always if with might, Dad, isn't there?"
I nodded. "Go on."
"If I can find a way to avoid that," Brent pointed at the shard, "I'll survive.
But I can't get away. I tried."
"Is that the only if you can come up with?" I asked, my heart trying to
choke me.
"Dad, I don't..."
"Son, calm down. You've got the time to think this through."
Based on my experience, I wasn't so sure about that, but this time I didn't feel
the end closing in on us. I hoped that the rules would be different for a child.
Brent's brow knitted into a furious scowl as he tried to come up with something
useful. Then all the ridges flattened out, and he stared at me eyes wide open,
frightened. "What if...if I can't get away...what if I can survive the hit?"
"That's a good if," I forced out of my dry mouth. "How do you think you could
achieve that? Do you have an idea?"
I was afraid I already knew what my boy was planning to do, and I didn't like it
at all. But what else could he do?
"That shard is coming at my heart, Dad," Brent said with a visible struggle. "If
it has to hit me, it better not be my heart it strikes." His eyes pleaded for
assurance. "If I let it hit me in, say, my arm, I might stay alive."
I nodded, yes, tears threatening to flow. "Are you sure? A hand?"
"Well...that shard is big. It might cut off my hand. Dad, I wouldn't want to
lose a hand. I..." He swallowed and I did, too. "What if it hits me in the back;
will it kill me then?"
"It might not..." I found myself saying.
"What would happen to me? What kind of damage would it do?" Brent's face was
death pale.
Oh, Brent. It would cut through your muscles and tendons, it would break
three of your ribs and puncture a lung. How can I tell you that?
"It would keep you sleeping on your stomach for weeks," I hedged.
"I could give up sleeping on my back, I guess," Brent said with the bravest
little grin I have ever seen. "It's not too big a sacrifice."
I could but stare at my son.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard a second level gray angel howling with
laughter. I'm sorry, Val, Rinne sent. I know that Brent is hurt and
that I shouldn't be laughing, but I can't help it. His sacrifice will make an
angel like none other: one that can sleep on its back. By the way, for the
apparent reason, any other angel can't do that! Children always come up with the
most peculiar gifts.
Despite the outrageousness of her thoughts, I found my own mouth curving into a
smile, too. You are a bad angel, Lady. But, it's OK. You're still my favorite
second level gray angel.
I stayed with Brent, holding him by the hands, until the shard hit him. He was
terrified, I was terrified, but we stayed put.
"Daaaad!"
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