Part Twenty Eight: The Tree

It's a beautiful day, Rahab thought, as she lay in her bed and gazed out the window. The sun was out, the grass was green, and the sky was a shade of blue she'd never seen before. If she could hear them, she was sure the birds were there, singing their little hearts out. She was alone, and she had slept for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, maybe it was only days, but she wasn't sure. The past seemed like a blur, after that bomb blast. Something vague, and terrible, yet in that there had been something wonderful, but she couldn't place it.

She looked out the window again. There was a tree outside, of a kind she couldn't recall, only that it was tall and covered in thin, green... something. Not leaves... She watched the tree move, as though it had a life of its own. The longer she watched, the happier she felt. Happier? Was that it? Or peaceful? Or both? She felt the presence of Something wonderful, the same thing that made the tree move, that gave her that feeling of peace. She had no desire other than to lie quietly and watch the tree branches wave, against a backdrop of celestial blue.

Someone touched her arm. She turned and saw Don sitting in the chair next to her.

"Good morning," she heard him say in a faraway voice. She could hear him if he spoke loudly enough. "Looking good, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said brightly. "I was watching that tree. It's beautiful."

"Hyamets," Don said, "One of my favorites."

"Hyamets?" Rahab repeated tentatively.

Don repeated the word back to her, then smiled and picked up the small dry-erase board on her bed stand and wrote on it.

"Oh! Cypress," Rahab said, reading it. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Don said, slowly enunciating every word. "I read the doctor's report," he said after a short pause. "It looks good."

"I'm relieved to know that," Rahab said, bringing her knees up to rest her elbows on them, and rearranging her IV tube, so it wouldn't catch on the edge of the bed. "It sure takes a lot to carry on a conversation."

"Yes it does," Don agreed. "But I don't mind."

They sat quietly for a while, then Don touched her arm again. "I have to go," he said.

"Okay, see you around, then." Rahab gave him a little wave.

Don picked up the board and wrote: 'Osaka'.

Rahab sighed and nodded sadly. "In that case, have a safe trip and send Splinter my greetings."

He smiled at her, and held her hand a moment. "Thank you, I will." He got up and headed for the door.

"I will pray for you, Don," she called to him.

He turned and looked at her in surprise, then pressed his mouth together in a tight grin, as though to hide a sudden upwelling of emotion. Then he was gone.

A woman in a nurse's uniform came in. "Good morning, Rahab," she said, loud enough for Rahab's benefit.

"Hi, Grace," Rahab said, sitting up and tucking her pillows farther behind her. The nurse put the blood pressure cuff on.

"How did you sleep last night," Grace asked as she pumped up the cuff.

Rahab winced at the pressure on her upper arm. "Very well, thank you."

"Good! You needed that rest." She listened to Rahab's pulse through a stethoscope, and then released the air from the cuff. She took out a pen and wrote some numbers on Rahab's chart. Then she took her temperature, and checked her eyes with a penlight. "How do you feel this morning?" she asked, looking at her with kindly intent.

"Peaceful," Rahab said, smoothing the edge of her blanket. "I've been watching that tree outside, that cypress? Isn't that beautiful?" She pointed out the window.

Grace glanced at the tree, and smiled at Rahab, nodding. "Lovely. I'm glad to hear you are feeling better, Rahab. Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," Rahab said after figuring out what Grace had asked her. "I just want to sit a while longer."

The nurse smiled, and left.

After breakfast, Mike came in. He was wearing his denim jacket, and a burnt-orange bandana tied tightly to his head, pirate-skullcap style. His left knee was wrapped in an ace bandage. "Hey, mama!"

"Hi, Mike," Rahab said. "How was your night?"

"Okay, how was yours?"

"Great. I slept like a... like a baby," Rahab said, and giggled.

Mike grinned in response. "All right!" He slapped Rahab's palm in a high five. "Looking good! Are you gonna get up?"

"I just thought I'd sit here a while, and think about things, you know, get my thoughts in order."

Mike nodded, and look at his hands a moment. "That's okay, Rahab. No hurry."

"How are the babies?"

Mike looked up at her. "Jess hymits," he said.

"What? Cypress?" Rahab asked, puzzled.

"Skyin," Mike said. The corner of his mouth twitched a little in amusement. "Not cypress!" When he saw Rahab still didn't understand, he looked around and saw the dry erase board, and wrote quickly in large block letters, and then showed it to her.

"Stylin'," Rahab said aloud, "Oh, they're just styling! That means good, right?"

Mike picked up Rahab's hand and held it, as she looked out the window.

"There is something out there much bigger than we are, you know that?"

Mike nodded, and smiled.

"Seriously. I know there is, look," she pointed at the window. "See that tree outside?"

Mike half stood and glanced at the tree.

"Did you see it?"

He nodded.

"What did you see?"

He gave her a long look, and shrugged a little. "A tree!"

"What else? What is it doing?"

Mike looked at the tree again. After a moment he raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Can't you see what that tree is? Look at the way it sways a little, how its branches move, so gracefully against the breeze, it's marvelous," she said, and gestured for him to look again.

He did so, then slowly picked up the tablet and wrote. After a moment, he handed it to her, and she read it. 'Yes, I agree with you, trees are a complex entity, an intrinsic part of the grand design of nature.'

Rahab lowered the tablet to her lap. "I hope you aren't patronizing me, Mike. I mean, if you don't understand, just say so, okay?"

Mike reached for the tablet, and wrote along the bottom. 'Okay, I don't understand, I'm sorry.' His sides heaved in a sigh, and he stared into space.

"Mike," she said. He looked up at her. "Maybe I can try to explain. That tree, those plants, the sky... the colors, the textures, the empty space! See how they combine and balance, in a way that is perfection, it's... it's the work of God."

Mike continued to stare at her, his brow slightly furrowed. He pulled off his bandana to scratch absently at the top of his head.

"I'm not going crazy, Mike," Rahab said.

Mike looked stricken, and he grabbed the tablet, savagely rubbed out the old message with the heel of his hand, and hastily wrote. After a long session of scribbling, he handed the tablet back to her.

Her eyes widened at the tablet, the words were small and closely spaced, and covered the whole surface from top to bottom. He wrote in small capitals, a slightly neater version of Raphael's handwriting.

'No, you're not going crazy,' it said. 'A lot has happened to you in a short time, and it is a natural way to feel. I sympathize with you 100%. I think you are more sane than most people who call themselves sane. You have come a long way, and I think you are seeing something I have yet to see, and just because I don't understand, it doesn't mean that you are crazy. I think I would be the one to go crazy, I just couldn't imagine--' It was the end of the message, he had run out of space.

Rahab looked at him questioningly. "You couldn't imagine what?"

Mike fiercely looked at her, and took the tablet out of her hands, and scuffed out a bare spot to write on. Then he handed it back to her.

'What life would be like if you had gone,' it said.

Rahab smiled grimly at him. "You would have been 'gone' right along with me, you know. But you saved my life."

Mike nodded his head. "I know," he mouthed. He clenched his hands, as his face crumbled, and he laid his head on her thigh. She curled her arms around his face and lay her cheek on top of his head, as he wept.

His tears soaked the blanket, and she sat still, unable to cry, herself. She was past that stage, she had done her share. She looked at the blue ink marks on the side of his palm, and the pale scars on his knuckles, and the tattoo of the rattlesnake coiling around his left forearm. He'd always tried so hard to please her... and she'd always taken him for granted.

She kissed the side of his face. "I love you."

When he recovered, he wiped his eyes and sat up. He started to say something in response, then grabbed the tablet and scrubbed it clean with his damp, wadded up bandana. He wrote, and passed it to her. 'You know I have always loved you, Rahab, but now I'm starting to really LIKE you.'

Rahab cocked her head at him in surprise. "I thought you already liked me!"

Mike busted out laughing, and gave her cheek a playful caress.

Rahab picked up the tablet, and wrote three large letters to fit under Mike's message, and drew a box around them.

He peered at the tablet, then looked at her, with one eyebrow raised in a question.

She nodded.

"Yes," he said aloud, looking puzzled.

She giggled and nodded again.

"Oh." He stood up, looking bewildered. "You mean... yes?"

"Yes," she said aloud.

"Yes!" Mike made a motion with his fists as though he was doing an imaginary chin-up. He grasped his head, and then let his hands fall to his sides. "You sure you won't change your mind??"

Rahab got up, and reached for him, making sure the IV could reach with her, and he put his arms around her waist and kissed her, and lifted her high against him. As he gazed up at her, she could clearly see he was ecstatic.

When he finally set her down, she sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a bit weak. Mike said something, and held up a forefinger, and dashed out of the room. Puzzled, Rahab waited, then finally lay back down to rest. The medication might make her feel better, but it also made her groggy.

She had slept a little before Mike returned, carrying something. It was a huge, potted hibiscus, loaded down with bright orange blossoms. He set it on the low dresser next to her bed, where she could reach it easily from her pillow.

He wrote on the board, 'Your favorite, organically grown! These should last indefinitely.'

"Ohh... how beautiful!" She plucked a few and ate them with great relish.

"They're nothing, compared to you," he said, as he took her hand up in his.

They sat quietly and looked out the window at the cypress, that moved its branches in an intricate dance of joy.

Next section... Rahab 29