HOPE

By Tessa Harvey

CHAPTER SEVEN

(Continued)

Steve opened his eyes. Looking down, he saw something sticking in his arm. Confused, he gazed up and around as best he could.

His head would not turn very well. As he tried to move, he began to be very afraid - his arm and leg on one side would not move and his face felt funny. Help me, he thought, but the sound did not go from his mouth. Panic engulfed him, then a nurse moved into his field of vision.

Quietly she called him by name and explained where he was and why. His eyes closed, shutting in the fear. Oh God, he felt he said, but again could hear no sound of his voice, only machines beeping. "Toilet," he tried to gasp, and heard a groan.

Next time he opened his eyes he saw his daughter crying with those people with her. What were the names? Hope was one. His mind cleared a little.

Then sorrow engulfed him and finally reality. Making a huge effort, he managed a word that had not passed his lips very often at all. "So-so-Sorry!" His eyes pleaded for forgiveness and understanding. Hope smiled a little. The others looked worried. Again Steve slept.

Days and nights blurred into dimness . They faded and fled. Steve drifted and slept. Vaguely he was aware of moving forms and voices. He felt his daughter once pick up his good hand, and he squeezed as hard as he could so he could reassure her, and half-smiled to feel an answering squeeze.

Tears oozed between his eyelids. Then he opened his eyes and blinked. Steve knew he was dreaming.

It was his wife, Ayleen, with a boy the image of Hope. He tried to say their names: "Ay....Tommm."

Rallying, he tried his very best and managed to say "Forgive." He fell back with the effort and as everything faded, he saw an awesome Presence, literally awe-some. The last word Steve said in this life was a clear "Jesus."

As he drifted away, smiling, he heard his wife call "Forgive me, Steve," and he did.