A ‘Touched By an Angel’ story
And sequel to 'Yvonne's Song'
As the drops of rain fell down over the small town, Yvonne Hudson took a deep breath as she walked through the park all the while hoping that the rain would stop, but not really caring because she was already wet. The early overcast morning was the first day of summer, and she really didn't think much about it, in fact, if the truth have been known, she could have cared less.
Once she found a bench, she grabbed the plastic slicker out of her belongings and spread it out on the wooden surface before sitting down. An unhappy sigh emerged from between her pursed lips, but nothing seemed to matter anymore, she had lost all the hope in the world, her eye were filling with tears for what appeared to be the unteenth time since watching the news that morning, all the while sitting in her small apartment drinking her coffee.
There was no denying it, her heart was broken, and she could do nothing except shake her head despondently. As she sat there alone in the rain, she wondered what God would think of this entire episode. Would He be as saddened by the events in the news as she now was? Would He really have chosen men who harmed children as religious leaders in one of the largest Christian faiths in the world? Would it have mattered to Him only to see them get a mere slap on the wrist for having harmed those who looked up to them?
Yvonne could still feel the tears streaming from beneath her sad brown eyes, as she looked around the park not even bothering to wipe the moisture away as it trickled down over the surface of her face. It was at that precise instant in her young life she felt as though her heart was shattering into thousands of tiny pieces. Looking up, she could see the steeple of the local church, its bell chiming in the distance, thus announcing the eleven o'clock hour.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she shook her head trying to shut out the sounds that seemed to remind her of some of the problems that seemed to be in this world. After a few moments, she cast the newspaper aside, all the while unaware that she had actually been sitting there wringing the object around in her hand, the anger welling up in her broken spirit as she stared down at the headline.
This can't be happening, she thought sadly to herself, but wherever she went, the truth had emerged, children were once again overlooked, children like me, she thought grimly as she tried without success to rip up the wadded newspaper in her hands. When she couldn't, she unrolled it and tried once again.
Oh God, I need some help, I really do, her thoughts emerged almost as though she was praying, but for Yvonne, she now felt that God had abandoned those who needed Him, and this pained her straight to her soul. She looked down at her hands, they were now wet and smeared with the blackness of the newspaper ink, but all the while, she could feel the tears as they continued to stream down her face.
When she eventually opened her eyes, she realized that she was still alone, that the hope of seeing an angel at this stage in her life was probably the greatest impossibility that could have existed. She finally managed to rip the newspaper down the middle and she threw them into a nearby garbage can. As much as she wanted to block out the words in the news, she could not forget what it was she had read and heard.
It was no question; any story that dealt with child abuse did catch the young woman's eye. She knew what she had lived through, and anything that dealt with children, were things that she watched and paid particular attention to. She had a better understanding of this issue than anyone because she herself had lived with the shame and devastation of sexual abuse.
She knew that abuse survivors were often stigmatized, but the fact remained, she would rather die than to do anything to harm a child, and it outraged her to such a degree that abusers got off with a mere wrist slapping, yet, at the same time, she would watch animal rights activists go completely nuts whenever someone would harm an animal, many of those who stood accused would be thrown behind bars until they rotted, but it seemed as though those who abused children would walk free. Today, she was completely put out with the injustice of a system that was supposed to protect children, and yet she could understand why the youth of today were so angry, because, she, herself carried similar feelings of animosity.
Taking a deep breath, her mind drifted as she contemplated Andrew. She hadn't seen the compassionate Angel of Death since she was twelve, but today, she had started to wonder if he had merely been a part of a dream. She remembered how he had come into her life as a history teacher. He helped her find the courage to speak out about the events that had been taking place in her own life, but soon after the story had emerged, he had vanished as though he had been nothing short of a figment of her imagination, and now she often wondered if, in fact, he had been just that.
As the church bell stopped ringing, she watched as a man walked through the park, she knew him, he was the priest for the local church, and although she didn't know him at all, she had no desire to know him, much less, make small talk with him.
Of course, having grown up without any firm sort of religious background, Yvonne had never really met anyone in the Catholic clergy, and now after the news had been released about them, she didn't want to have anything to do with this particular church. It wasn't that she believed that everyone in a certain church was a certain way, as Yvonne Hudson did whatever she could to keep from judging anyone. However, her pain was constantly resurfacing and if others actually knew about her past, then they would probably judge her, as many victims were harshly judged and the sympathies of the public always seemed to be on the side of the assailant.
Oh, what did it matter? She often pondered to herself. No one could really understand why it was she felt this way, simply because they did not understand the emotions from a sexual abuse victim's point of view. No one could, unless they, themselves, had lived through this kind of thing. The fact is; the church only seemed to care about saving their skin or reputations, than to justice.
Now that the church had turned the other cheek, Yvonne felt as though the abusers had simply gotten away with it. It was as though those men were above the law simply because of their career choices.
With a look of extreme determination on her face, Yvonne remained resolute. As far as she was concerned, abusers were abusers, and they should be in jail, not running free, and certainly not posing as religious leaders.
Shaking her head despondently, she glanced skyward. How could a church allow this to happen? She asked herself almost constantly, as fresh tears streamed down over her face, but what she failed to notice was that the priest she had seen walking along the path through the park had suddenly stopped and was now looking at her, not really staring, but looking at her with a sort of contemplative look on his face.
When she eventually looked away, no one could see that her eyes filled with bitterness, but she continued to stare at the young priest as he continued walking in the direction of the chiming church bells. As he walked through the gates and out of the park, no one seemed to notice that Yvonne had tears streaming down her cheeks, her own disturbing thoughts literally engulfing her.
In the distance, three angels, a man and two women, stood watching the young woman as she tried with all that was inside of her to keep her emotions in check. "Yvonne," the man muttered under his breath, his heart literally aching as he watched her staring down at her lap, there on the bench. All the while, he was trying to understand what it was specifically that had affected her emotions in such an overwhelming and profound way.
"Andrew, you're going to get to see her very soon," the eldest of the three angels said, this one a compassionate woman with mahogany colored skin. She, too, was watching Yvonne, and though she did not know her as well as her 'Angel Boy', she knew that the young woman had adequate reason to feel as lousy as she did.
"Tess, what has happened that brought so much back to her?" Andrew asked as he continued to watch as Yvonne ripped the newspaper apart. "I always thought that she would get through this. I mean; I understood how hard all of this had been for her, but she's strong." He could somehow not be able to comprehend it, yet he had long ago accepted that she possessed an unbelievable strength that he admired.
Sighing deeply, he could not help but remember how she was as a young girl and how he had once been sent to her to be her friend and to help her find the courage to speak out about the abuse she had lived through. This had been one of the hardest, but also one of the most wonderful assignments he had ever had.
Smiling slightly he remembered Yvonne as a little girl, she so shy, so kindhearted, but also seemed to be overwhelmed with pain of what she had been through. Today, she looked a mixture of frailty and assertiveness. It had been a little over seven years since he had met her and encouraged her to speak out about her mother's boyfriend after the live-in boyfriend had been molesting her.
Now, he felt somewhat shy about approaching her, it had been seven years, now she was a young woman, but beneath the assertive nature that seemed to embody her, she still looked fragile, and right at that moment, her sadness was now completely overwhelming. What could possibly have been in the newspaper that would make her so upset?
Instead of waiting for the answer to come from the Father, Andrew looked at his angelic companions. "Please, Tess, you have to tell me what has happened to her."
Tess handed her 'Angel Boy' a newspaper and the color drained from the compassionate Angel of Death's face as he read the headline:
Pedophile Priests get off with Slap on the Wrist
As he read through the article, he nodded as understanding completely overwhelmed him. He could clearly see what it was that had Yvonne upset, she had once been a victim of sexual abuse herself, and her empathic nature seemed to speak louder than any of her words ever could. Worse still, it appeared as though the clergy was trying to sweep this entire situation under the rug.
"Tess, I really should go to her," he eventually said and the supervisor nodded in his direction.
The supervisor's dark eyes were filled with sadness, but she nodded towards Andrew after giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "You take care of yourself, Angel Boy, and take care of that little baby, she needs so much comfort and the Father thinks you are the perfect angel for her. Just like when she was twelve."
Nodding, Andrew left his two friends and made his way in the direction of where Yvonne was sitting.
After a few moments watching the scene unfolding before them in the park, the younger, auburn headed angel looked towards her supervisor and back in the direction of where Andrew was walking.
"Tess, who is going to be our assignment?" Monica asked.
"Father Joshua Owens," Tess said and pointed towards the young priest that was now leaving the park, his shoulders slumped and one did not have to be an angel to know that this situation had left a drastic impact on the man.
"Did he…?" Monica asked but her question trailed off, and the Supervising caseworker knew exactly what her younger charge was driving at.
"No, he is not one of the priests that have been reported in the newspaper, but he is someone who cares about people and you and I know that he's going to need an angel when it comes to trying to cope with an angry society which will emerge in the face of this tragedy," Tess said softly. "Somehow the two of them are going to realize something absolutely imperative about the other, that stereotyping is going to do far more damage than healing."
Monica nodded and she realized what Tess was saying, especially after seeing Yvonne ripping the newspaper into tiny pieces, but more than anything, the empathic angel could clearly see what the young woman was going through.
-*-*-*-*-
Once Tess and Monica were gone, Andrew looked down at his clothing and realized that he was now dressed in casual jeans, a yellow t-shirt, a beige jacket, and overcoat. He had an umbrella in his hand, but had yet to open it. Glancing around, he could see that Monica and Tess had followed the young priest out of the park, and as the rain started to fall once again, this time it was coming down as, more or less, a steady drizzle.
Andrew made his way over to where Yvonne was seated on a wooden bench and he could plainly see that her eyes were carried an empty forlornness that tore at his gentle heart, but she remained seated on the bench, her body slumped over, her arms wrapping around herself as the rain got stronger.
Andrew smiled weakly as he regarded his young friend, but instead of just appearing next to her and possibly scaring the daylights out of her, he opened the umbrella and started to walk over towards where she was sitting. As he got closer, he could see that her head was still down, her eyes staring at the ground as though she would have loved to have been anywhere on he planet other than the place where she presently was.
As soon as the angel had reached where she was sitting, he extended a gentle hand and touched her shoulder, thus causing her to look up. Once she had managed to focus on the man, who was standing before her, her eyes widened in profound disbelief. No words emerged from her, but she shook her head as though in doubt or disbelief that he was actually there. All this time, she thought this was wishful thinking, or a daydream, but definitely not something that was real.
"Hello, Yvonne," he said softly, his voice filled with gentility, and he sat down next to her, the umbrella, he cast to one side, but his eyes sought her own surprised ones.
"AAndrew, it's you?" She finally managed to whisper, but all the while her voice was trembling, and it was completely obvious that she was having a very difficult time keeping her emotions in check. Reaching out, she touched his shoulder, but withdrew her hand as though she had touched hot coals.
It was obvious that seeing him after seven years was not exactly easy, simply because the memories flooded back into her, and this made the entire reality that she now experienced, all the more difficult. It was no secret, she had been through a great deal since her childhood, particularly just before and after Danielle Jensen's passing.
Today, Yvonne was in the middle of her first year as a university student with a major in the humanities. For the most part she was happy, but when things happened in the world that affected her, she could not hold back the feelings that she had about them, and somehow this was case in point.
She smiled weakly as the angel sat down on the bench next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, and pulling her against his strong chest.
In his arms, she looked up at him, all the while shaking her head sadly as she felt his hand brushing gently through her hair, his fingers somehow coercing the tears to fall down over her face, and blur her vision. It seemed so hard for her to believe that he was there, actually, almost impossible, but there he was sitting beside her. It was really him, the angel who had had such an impact on her life. She was now being held by him, exactly as he had done when she was younger.
Somewhere in all the times she had tried to deal with her emotions, she had a hard time looking people in the eye, especially those who knew of her past, and somewhere in their knowledge of her past, she felt so much shame at them actually knowing to what extent the pain had wounded and scarred her psyche. It was even harder for her to accept that she was not at fault for what had happened, much less that an angel had helped her through it.
She looked up to see that he was still holding her, his eyes closed as though in prayer and somewhere, deep inside of her, she remembered how he had comforted her even now as she relived the desperation of a time gone by, but every time something would happen, she would ponder just how long ago it really had been.
Shamefully, she stared down at her lap until she could feel the soft fingers of the angel probing her face gently to look up at him. After a few moments had passed, she opened her eyes and looked into the eyes of her friend, all the while her eyes almost trying to divert from his piercing gaze.
"You're here?" She finally found the courage to speak. "Why?"
"I always told you that if you needed me, I would be there, and right now, I think you really do need someone," he said gently, but when she did not respond, he watched as she covered her face with her hands. They sat this way for a few moments, but finally he found his voice and continued to speak, his words causing her hands to fall away from her face and show him a hopeless pair of swollen brown eyes. "Yvonne, you really have no reason to feel ashamed."
"But, I do," she could feel the tears as they brimmed from beneath her eyes and she tried without any success at rubbing them away.
Andrew smiled gently at her as he reached over and brushed the tears away, which were now streaming down her cheeks. "You don't, please believe me, sweetheart." When she didn't look up at him, he took his hand and tipped her face up so that she would be looking him in the eyes. "God loves you, Yvonne Hudson, and He wants you to know that abuse and harm to children is not a part of His plan. Not by any means."
"Then why?" She asked, her voice cracking. "Why does it have to happen, and to children?"
"I-I don't know," Andrew shook his head sadly as he continued to rub her face gently with his hand. "It would be much easier for you if I could answer this question, but I think you know deep inside that I don't have the answer to that one. I'm sorry, sweetheart, I really wish I knew."
Yvonne looked over at the newspaper that was now in the garbage. "You know what happened, huh?"
"Yes," he whispered his hand still brushing the persistent tears from away from her eyes, "God knew how devastating this news has been for you to take, so He sent me to help you get through it."
"It hurts. I mean; it's as though the churches don't even care what children have to go through." As she spoke, he could see that the emotions were starting to get the better of her. "Andrew, they don't care, all they concern themselves with is their reputation," Yvonne leaned against him and allowed the tears to fall. "A church is supposed to teach ethics and morals to their congregations, not condone sexually abusing their children. Oh God, why does it all come back every time something like this happens? Why?"
Andrew brushed his hand through her hair as he held her gently in his arms the embrace somehow filling her with the angel's loving assurances. "Shhh, it's OK."
Yvonne shook her head her hands balling up into fists and she started to pound them against his chest as she spoke, the pain emerging not only with each blow, but also with her words. "It's not OK, Andrew, it's not ever going to be OK, at least not until they kick child-abusers out of positions of power, and chances are they won't ever do that. I guess it's always going to be the same story, so long as it doesn't affect those in power, then nothing is going to change. If it was affecting them personally, then they might do something..."
She looked helplessly up at Andrew and the angel could see the deep hurt that was encased in his young friend. As she continued to speak, the rain that was falling got harder and he reached over and grabbed his umbrella. "Come on, let's get you some place warm and dry, and we can discuss this. The rain is getting stronger and you don't need to get wetter and run the risk of getting sick on top of everything else, alright?"
Yvonne nodded, her eyes filled with pain, but after a few moments, she allowed the angel to help her get to her feet and he led her out of the park in the direction of her studio apartment.
-*-*-*-*-
Some three streets over from the park, Father Joshua Owens walked towards the church where he served. As he walked, he realized that he could not get the young woman out of his conscience, yet, he knew that he had a number of more pressing problems. Church attendance was down, the masses were emptier than he could remember from his youth, and now this scandal had darkened the rites of priesthood. Things could not have gotten worse, and if they did, he did not know how.
As he continued to think about the girl from the park, he realized that there was something almost familiar, yet almost eerie about her. He knew her from somewhere, but where specifically, he could not recall.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the large marble building, and as he came through the lobby and entered the sanctuary, he crossed himself as he came down the aisle towards the altar. On one side of the church, he could see that two women were seated and appeared to be in prayer.
Not saying anything, he walked slowly by and at the front of the church; he slowly lowered himself into the seat, his glance eventually coming to rest on the crucifix that adorned the front of the elegant church. Moments passed and his attention diverted and he looked up at the stature of Mother Mary located on one side of the altar.
"Joshua?" A familiar voice emerged and he turned around to see a young girl standing behind him, her eyes a piercing aquamarine color, and nearly the same color as his. She wore a cross necklace which hung down over her denim blue shirt. He turned around, his face lighting up considerably when he saw her. Seconds later, he stood up and approached her.
The girl stood in the aisle, she did not cross herself, and she did not do any of the customary things people do upon entering a Catholic church, she merely stood there, her smile gentle, her eyes filled with empathy as she regarded the young priest.
"What are you doing here, Jess?" He asked the girl.
"I came to see how you were fairing, Joshua," she said smiling weakly as she shrugged her shoulders.
"Why?"
"I saw the news, and I immediately thought of you," Jess said. "You know, you were my best friend in high school, you were always there for me when I was dating Geoff. I mean; Josh, we were always there for each other. Do you think that just because I don't know how to cross myself properly, or that I don't go to church here that I would stop thinking about you the minute something like this happens?"
"I don't know anymore, Jess," he said softly, as he stared down at the stone-like floor of the church.
The girl went over and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Do you remember when you graduated from high school? I was a freshman at the time, I had just gotten out of Jr. High and you were my brother's best friend. I saw you at the house every week, I thought you either were there to say 'hi' to my family or to pig out on my mom's apple custard. You were my best friend, too. I never admitted it; I always thought that the sun rose and set on you, I thought you were the greatest person in the world. Well, you remember that card I gave you when I graduated. It said: 'The sun may not rise and set on you, but I know that God smiles upon you when the sun does rise and set.' Do you remember?"
Joshua nodded. "I remember."
"It's still true, I know that you have given your life for God, and I may not always understand this Catholic stuff, I understand my friends, and I know that this must be devastating for you."
"Two days ago, one of the women in the congregation would not even let me talk to her ten-year-old daughter, and then one of the boys in the Sunday school class snuck out and asked me during the adult class what was going on with the news," he said, but he could feel the tears streaming from beneath his troubled blue eyes. "It's horrible, Jess."
"I know," she said gently as she squeezed his shoulder. "I also realize that it is doubly hard for you because I know that you wouldn't do anything to hurt a fly, you just want to serve God. You protected me from Geoff after he freaked out. I remember; you were still in Seminary and you dropped everything to come and help me."
Joshua nodded slowly. "I remember." As he spoke, he glanced over unconsciously and could see the two women still in prayer. Trying to ignore their presence, he slumped back down in one of the seats. "How can I go on when people don't trust me? The trouble is people see priests doing this on the news…" His voice trailed off and she could see that he was trying with all the will that was inside of him to choke back the tears. Taking a deep breath, he continued to speak, his voice filled with emotion. "They stereotype us all into this sort of group and that say that if one priest does something to hurt a child, then that must mean that we are all guilty of hurting kids."
"You know God's truth, Joshua, and I know this seems so hard for you, but people have to hear the truth that not all priests are bad, not all Catholics condone sexual abuse of children, but the church is at a time where it needs leaders, not just people who talk the talk, but who also know how to walk the talk. Maybe that's what God wants you to do," Jess said.
The young priest nodded. "I always wanted to make a difference, but I don't know if I have the courage to do so."
"Then you're going to have to find it," she handed him a pamphlet from the local community center. "Maybe a good place to start would be in a place of this kind. Maybe if you understand where they are coming from, it might help."
"I saw a girl in the park, she looked at me, and I could see the fear in her eyes," Joshua said. "I never thought that someone would be afraid of me, but she looked really scared."
"Go to the community center, Joshua, see what happens, maybe this is your chance to show people that God does work in mysterious ways. Maybe you need to find a way to do away with stereotypes once and for all."
Once his best friend's little sister had left, he thought about what she had said, and after a few moments, he nodded as he covered his face with his hands and rubbed the painful tears from beneath his eyes. Maybe she's right, maybe getting involved in this issue might be the best way to prevent such stereotyping from ever occurring again.
As he looked over at where the two women had been sitting, he realized that they were both gone, but in their place, a newspaper was lying on the seat, and he went over and picked it up. It was dated that month, seven years ago, and as he looked down at the picture that was on the page, the color drained from his face as he recognized the girl from the park. Shaking his head despondently, he sat down and began to read, the color draining from his face as each word shed light on what he had seen in the park.
Abuse Victim Seeks Justice
Yvonne Hudson may look like your average teenage girl, but she carries a tragic story that no child should endure. She survived sexual abuse in the hands of a family friend, and because of her strength, she has become a landmark personality because of her young age and the fact that she found the courage to confront her abuser and win.
The memories for the 12-year-old survivor still haunt her even after the case has been closed, but because of her perseverance, her abuser has been sentenced to twenty-five years in state prison with the possibility for parole after seventeen of those years have been served.
Sighing deeply, the young priest stood up, the paper now drifting to the floor as Jess' words emanated through his conscious. Leaving the article on one of the pews, he got up and went back towards his office, his eyes filling with tears as he closed the door.
By this time, Andrew and Yvonne reached her small one room apartment, and to the angel's relief his young friend seemed to have recovered from her bout of frustration in the park. As soon as she closed the door, she hung her jacket on the rack that was on the back of the door. Once she had taken his coat and hung it on the door, she looked up at him. "Do you want anything? A coke or maybe a tea or perhaps something else?"
Andrew shook his head. "I think we should sit down and talk. It's been a long time."
"Yeah," she said softly as she shrugged her shoulders unconsciously.
"Yvonne?" Andrew said softly thus causing her to look up.
"What? Do you want me to cry on your shoulder again? Or should I try to keep my faith or talk to God?" She could feel the tears once again in her eyes. She shook her head as she looked at him, her voice catching somewhat and she felt shame flushing her cheeks. "I'm sorry…"
"No, you're hurting and angry, but believe me, I do understand, Yvonne," he said as he came over to where she was sitting and sat down next to her. Instead of pulling her into his arms as he was compelled to do, he simply rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. When she looked up, he could see the pain that she still carried even now, seven years after her nightmarish ordeal.
"Do you know what's hard, Andrew?" Yvonne asked weakly as she felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder.
"Tell me," he said softly, his voice gently coaxing the story out of her.
"I'm a freshman in college, and I can't even get involved in a relationship with a guy because I'm so afraid," she looked up at him despondently. "They scare me so much because…"
"…Because you're afraid of being hurt again," Andrew finished for her and instead of just waiting for her to make the first move and seek his comfort, he offered it freely by pulling her into his embrace. "Yvonne, not every person is going to do to you what Rick did."
"I know, but it's so hard, I'm so scared and I don't know why, and then…" her voice trailed off and she tried to catch her breath before she could continue speaking. "…Then people ask me why I'm so scared of guys, or of dating and I'm so ashamed that I can't even tell them the truth. They ask me, Andrew, and none of them really know."
The angel nodded as she continued to speak. "Nobody knows that after everything that happened, I still lie awake at night unable to sleep, but if I did manage to go to sleep, I would sometimes have the most horrible nightmares. Not to mention the fact that I still have to cover myself when I sleep because I'm afraid of being violated again," she paused as she took a deep breath, but after a few minutes, she continued. "I sometimes see this stuff in the newspaper about the priests molesting children, and when it does I can't for the life of me explain why it hurts so much, or even why it came back. All I know, when I see these kids, and what they have endured, I just…" As her voice trailed off, she could once again feel the tears as they continued to stream from beneath her eyes and she shook her head as she felt her hands pressed against the lapels of the angel's lightweight jacket. Her face now pressed against his chest, the words muffled by her emotional outburst.
What came next, instead of him listening to her as she continued to speak, he could hear the muffled sobs that wracked the young woman's body. Andrew reached over and with his hands; he gently stroked her hair. "Just cry, sweetheart," he whispered gently and held her tightly as she wept.
Once she had cried herself dry, she looked up at him apologetically when she saw the stream of moistness on his jacket. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," she whispered as she self-consciously backed away from him.
"Hey, it's OK, that's why I'm here," he said gently and he reached over and wiped the last of her tears away. "Do you feel any better?"
"A little, but what am I supposed to do? I mean; I can't just do nothing," Yvonne whispered softly, her voice filled with sadness.
Andrew smiled gently at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "Yvonne, maybe you are supposed to let people know what you have been through, especially now, at this time. A person who is a victim of this kind of thing understands the other side of the story much better than someone who is not affected by the events that you have read about in the paper or seen in the news."
"I'm scared, I'm so ashamed. That's why I left that town after Frank and Dory left and moved to California. I was 18, and they figured that I would be OK without them. They helped me get set up here and then they left, but they both knew that I needed to get away from that town."
"No matter how far away you run, Yvonne, you will not succeed in completely running away from the past. The truth is, I'm here because you will have to face the past one more time and once you do that, then you will find the healing that you need."
She nodded. "I figured as much when I saw you in the park. Part of me wanted to hug you, and part of me wanted to hide my face in shame."
"You know I told you that you had no reason to feel shame, Yvonne. I will tell you this, you must never hide your face from me, because I care for you more than you realize." As he spoke, he pulled a CD from his pocket and handed it to her. "I always knew that you love music, so here is a song I would like for you to listen to the words, OK?"
Yvonne nodded as she accepted the CD and looked down at the cover. The song title was 'I'm Moving On' and she immediately went and put it in the CD player. Moments later, the room was filled with music.
I've dealt with my ghosts
And I've faced all my demons
Finally content with the past I regret
I found you find strength
In your moments of weakness
But one side of peace with myself
I've been burdened with blame
Trapped in the past for too long
I'm moving on.
I've lived in this place
And I know all the faces
Each one is different
But they're always the same
They mean me no harm
But it's time that I face it
They will never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up
Where I don't belong
I'm moving on.
I'm moving on
At last I can see
Life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know
There's no guarantees
But, I'm not alone
There comes a time
In everyone's life
When all you can see
Are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind
That those days are gone
I've sold what I could
And packed what I couldn't
Stopped to feel love
On my way out of town
I've loved like I should
But lived like I shouldn't
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me
Somewhere down this road
I'm moving on…I'm moving on…I'm moving on.
As the music faded, Yvonne was staring down at her lap, her face completely streaked with tears. "That's beautiful," she whispered through her tears, "but I haven't, you know?"
"I know, and I realize how hard it is to remember the events that brought you to this point. I don't know why they happened, but I do know that God has not abandoned you, He is always with you, Yvonne, you're not alone, not ever." Andrew said gently as he looked down at the young woman he held in his arms.
"I felt it, for so long, I thought…I thought if I ran from the past, that I could outrun it, that I could forget what happened to me," she could feel fresh tears streaming from beneath her eyes. "Andrew, are you going to stay, or are you going to just deliver me this CD and then leave again?"
He took her chin his hand and tipped it up so that she was looking into his gentle green eyes. "I'm not going to leave you, God knows that you're afraid, but He wants you to know that you have no reason to be."
Yvonne nodded numbly, and without even thinking, she collapsed into his arms and within seconds, she had drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion now getting the better of her.
A few moments after she had fallen asleep, Andrew picked her up in his arms, and carried her across the room to the bed in the corner. As he laid her on the bed, he looked down at her face, all the while brushing a lock of her hair out from in front of her now closed eyes. "You're not ever alone, Yvonne," he whispered as he leaned down, and kissed her forehead gently. As he straightened out, he settled himself on the nearby chair, and spent the next few hours watching over her.
-*-*-*-*-
Joshua was nervous when he arrived at the community center some four hours later. Jess had been right, he knew this, but he was still nervous. Instead of dressing in his official like clothing, he wore the simplest of his attire. His discomfort was blatantly obvious, but when he saw television cameras lining the street in front of the building, he backed away; the fear that was encasing him was completely overwhelming. He took a deep breath and by the time he reached the parking lot, he could hear someone's voice calling out to him and he stopped.
"Hello," the woman's voice emerged, thus causing him to glance up and see a pretty auburn headed woman standing next to a car that was parked there. She had just gotten out of a red Cadillac convertible and was leaning over in order to retrieve a stack of files. As she tried to juggle them, he realized that she probably would end up losing the entire stack. "Could I convince you to help me a little with this stuff? I seem to be having a wee bit of a balance problem here."
"Sure," he said as he came over and took half the folders from off the stack and when she had managed with the folders she carried, he spoke further. "It's OK now?"
"Yes, thank you," the woman said, her voice emerging a lovely Irish baroque and her eyes widened slightly when she recognized him. "Father Owens, I was at Mass last Sunday, you have a wonderful eloquence with your speaking," she smiled as she spoke. "Your sermon really moved me."
"T-thank you," he smiled, but she could see that he had the discomfort of a schoolboy, but he began to follow her towards the door that would lead them both into the back sectors of the large white marble building.
"My name is Monica, by the way, and I help coordinate public awareness groups here at the center," she said as she reached into her pocket and began to fumble for her keys. Once she had them, she unlocked the door and managed to pull it open and once the two of them were inside he managed to find his voice, it initially emerging in a squeak.
"I was," his voice was small, so he cleared his throat and tried to start speaking again. "I was interested in getting involved in a public awareness group here," he said honestly. "The truth is, because of all the horrid things that have been in the news, I thought it would be a good idea for me to find out what I can about it. I guess it's sort of like being armed with the truth or something."
"It's a wonderful thing to get involved, but it's even more special when someone tries to see how it is for the other side, so to speak," Monica said. "Come with me, we'll go through the main office to get into the main part of the center, I don't think you really want to be confronted with the media right now."
"They are here about the sexual abuse cases, aren't they?" He asked weakly.
Monica nodded numbly. "One of the victims committed suicide last night and he was a boy in counseling here. He had been molested by one of the priests upstate, and well, you can probably imagine how hard that must have been."
"I can't," Joshua said, his words caught in his throat. "I grew up in a nice home, the priests that I knew growing up were nice guys, they never laid a finger on me, and they were who inspired me to go into the ministry." He shook his head.
"You're not at fault for what happened, Father Owens, you're not a stereotype in all of this, you're a man, and one who gave his life to God," Monica said softly. "Your willingness to understand these kids speaks highly of you, not as a man of the cloth, but as an individual, and as one of God's children."
He nodded. "My friend Jess convinced me to come here, but I don't know how much good it was going to do."
"Maybe a lot," Monica smiled as they left the files in the office and made their way down the hall in the direction of the main lobby of the center.
As they came out, there were a number of reporters standing as though vultures about to dive-bomb a pile of garbage in search for meat. When they spotted the young priest, they room went completely silent. As he heard people mumbling things like 'what is he doing here?' and 'get the kids out of here', he almost burst into tears.
After a few moments of whispering passed by, a woman with a warm alto voice spoke, and she carried what appeared to be a stenographer's notebook and a ballpoint pen. Her kindly brown eyes sought his and she offered him a cordial smile. When the whispering continued, she cleared her throat and spoke up. "Isn't this nice, someone from the clergy has come here to offer their help during this difficult time?"
When the other reporters were struck by her words, they quietly dispersed and she approached where Joshua and Monica were standing. "Father Owens," she smiled as she recognized him. "My name is Tess," she smiled as she extended her hand to him.
"Hello, Tess," he said smiling weakly. "I didn't mean to open a can of worms by coming here."
"No, baby you didn't," she said all the while, her smile could have lit up the darkest of skies. "I am here from the 'Journal of Children's Rights' and I would love to get your thoughts about what has been happening here in town."
"I-I don't know what to say," he said softly. "The truth is, I don't even know why I came. I don't think I belong here. People don't want to understand, they just want to condemn and judge me, because of what I chose to do with my life."
"We're not judging you," Tess said smiling gently at him as she reached over and touched his shoulder. "We both know that you're here because you care about this community, and you don't want ignorance to rule the day."
Joshua nodded and when he found so much truth in Tess' words, he spoke. "People stare at me, and maybe in that regard, I have something in common with the children who were abused, but I do know one thing is certain, I would rather die than to bring harm to a child.
"We know, and God knows too," Monica said gently. "God knows everything we do, when we do it, where and why, He knows it all, but people sometimes put their emotions ahead of their understanding. By being here, you can help show people that stereotypes will only lead to hate, and that is what leads to abuse. Don't you see; your presence here could make all the difference in the world?"
Joshua thought about her words, "yeah, I see what you're saying, so what can I do? I want people to not be afraid of me, or afraid of allowing me to talk to their children."
"Trust takes time to build, baby," Tess said smiling gently. "But, keep in mind, it is that way with everyone, not just with children and priests, but it is that way with grown-ups as well as survivors." As she spoke, she pointed to the door leading outside. When Joshua looked up, he saw the young woman from the park, as well as a blonde headed man walking into the center.
"I know her," he mumbled. "I've seen her around town before."
"Her name is Yvonne Hudson," Tess said softly, "and she's a sexual abuse survivor."
The young priest's throat was dry when he made eye contact with the young woman now standing in the lobby.
"Andrew, please you've got to get me out of here," Yvonne whispered once she felt the eyes of the priest on her. She backed towards the door, her fear now starting to overwhelm her. She shook her head as she watched Joshua Owens stand up and start to make his way in the direction where she now stood with the Angel of Death.
"You remember what I said back at your apartment about running?" Andrew said sternly as he looked at his friend. "You're strong, Yvonne, I know you, now maybe this meeting will do you as much good as it could do him."
"You're taking his side…"
"I don't take sides, but have you stopped to consider that maybe you and he are on the same side?" Andrew asked.
Yvonne faltered, but she looked into the eyes of the angel. "You wouldn't lead me into danger, Andrew, I trust you, but this is hard for me to face him."
"No, I wouldn't do anything that would hurt you, Yvonne," he said gently as he took her hand and led her through the lobby. "But, the Father does know what He's doing, so this isn't about trusting me, it's about trusting Him."
The young woman nodded, but when they reached the young priest, Yvonne managed to glance up, but only briefly. After a few moments, her gaze returned to the floor and it was obvious, not only to Andrew, but also to Joshua that the young woman would have opted to be anywhere than where she was at that moment.
Joshua fidgeted for some moments, and somewhere, he managed to find his voice. "Hello."
"Hi," Yvonne's voice emerged, but it was soft and filled with insecurity.
"I'm, uh, my name is Joshua," he said deciding to leave all the formalities at the door.
"Yvonne," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, and she backed slowly away from him, her nervousness completely evident. She would have completely backed away from him if Andrew had not been standing behind her and had rested his hands gently on her shoulders. She attempted to swallow the lump that seemed to have unconsciously lodged itself in the back of her throat, but she looked up and made brief eye contact with the priest.
"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" Joshua asked.
Yvonne, feeling honesty enveloping her, nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it."
Joshua nodded. "You know, I do understand."
She shook her head. "You can't possibly."
Joshua could sense the anger in her words, and he knew that he might have inadvertently offended her. "I don't mean that, Yvonne, I mean, I know about what it feels like to have lost hope in society and in oneself." His eyes were steady as they regarded her.
Yvonne looked back at Andrew, the angel still had his hand on her shoulder, but he spoke, his voice filled with empathy. "Just talk to him, you'll find you share more in common than you believe."
She looked back at Joshua and spoke. "You lost faith in yourself, why?"
"I don't know why, I suddenly woke up one day and started wondering what I was doing," he said softly. "I wondered why things happen and what I was doing about all of it. I guess that's why I'm here now."
"I don't know why I'm here," she offered meekly. "I don't know if I can believe for a moment that you could understand me."
"Why?"
Yvonne shook her head, but no words emerged.
"Because I'm a priest, and you've seen the news," Joshua said softly. He could read between the lines and he looked at her. "Stereotyping is only going to make things worse. People will never be able to trust each other unless they look beyond it and see the person beneath that."
Yvonne looked frightened as his voice raised, but she looked at him, her eyes speaking volumes. "You think it's easy for me to look beyond the stereotypes? Do you think I can just hide from my past? Well, I can't, every time something like this happens, the nightmares come back, the world that seems so nice and pretty is destroyed. You tell me that I should let go of stereotypes, how dare you? You don't know me, you probably could care less, and…" her voice trailed and she backed away from him, her eyes filled with anger as she regarded him. "You have no right to judge me. Go look in the mirror before you start passing judgment."
With that she turned on her heels and ran out of the room leaving Joshua staring after her in open-mouth astonishment. Around them, a number of people cheered, thus leaving the young man staring at Andrew with unhidden astonishment. Instead of speaking, the Angel of Death took a deep breath and went after his friend, thus leaving Joshua alone and in the capable hands of Monica and Tess.
-*-*-*-*-
Outside on the parking lot, Yvonne collapsed to the ground as the tears began to stream down her cheeks once again. Andrew came over to her and put his arms around her and held her.
This time, she pushed away from him, her eyes filled with hurt. "Why did you want me to talk to him? He only started going off on me about stereotypes. Andrew, you're supposed to be my friend."
"I am your friend, Yvonne, but please, just listen to me," Andrew looked deeply into the eyes of the young woman. "Was a priest the person that abused you?"
She shook her head. "No, but…"
Andrew rested his finger over her lips and looked at her. "I know that this is hard for you, but look at how Joshua feels. He's a few years older than you, and this is all affecting him too. You both can relate to each other, not because you've been abused and he wasn't, but because there's simply something that connects the two of you to one another. Remember Danielle, and how she made a mistake, but yet, she came to you and you forgave her? This was not because she had hurt you, but because somewhere deep in your heart; you knew that she needed forgiveness as much as you did. She needed her peace, Yvonne, just like you need your peace right now at this very moment. It doesn't matter if you're looking into the eyes of a priest, or a plumber, what matters is that you see him as a person, and in the same way you did when you looked into the eyes of Danielle."
Yvonne could feel the tears stinging her eyes when she heard him speak of her best friend. The memories flooded back to her when she remembered how much Danielle had sacrificed for her. She glanced over and could see that Joshua was coming out of the building, his head was down, and she looked at Andrew. "He's going to hate me."
Andrew shook his head, but he handed her an aged newspaper. She looked down at the writing all the while remembering what was in the paper. She nervously began to roll the paper around in her hand, but dejectedly walked away from Andrew and followed the young priest across the parking lot.
She continued to follow him, but when she reached the curb, she could see that Joshua was now walking slowly across the street, but what he did not see was that a man in a silver car was barreling down the street towards the priest's unsuspecting back at breakneck speed.
"Joshua, look out!" Yvonne screamed as loud as she could, but when he turned around with surprise in his eyes, she ran towards him and pushed him as hard as she could out of the way as the car rammed unmercifully against her body, and she flew over the windshield and landed on the hard concrete. Within seconds, the man driving the car had sped off.
"Yvonne! No!" Andrew cried out with agony in his voice, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was get Joshua to get up off the ground and stare down at the young woman who lay in a puddle of blood on the side of the street.
She saved my life, where the only thoughts going through the young man's conscious, and when he felt the tears burning his eyes, he realized what it was she had just done for him.
-*-*-*-*-
Joshua broke out of his reverie and ran out into the street and when he reached her, he got down on the ground next to where she lay. Instead of leaving her on the street as he figured he should have done, he tried to gently pull her broken body back onto the curb before she would get hit by yet another of the oncoming cars.
He took a deep breath as he looked up and could see that Andrew was now right next to the young woman, his green eyes filled with the utmost sadness. "S-she saved my life," Joshua whispered weakly as he held Yvonne on his lap. He shook his head desperately as he looked down at her unmoving body.
"Yes, Joshua, she did," Andrew said softly, the voice of the angel causing Joshua to look up and instead of seeing Andrew being dressed casually as he had been at the center, the angel was now dressed officially in a beige suit and tie.
"Y-you're an angel?" Joshua asked weakly as Andrew crouched down next to them, his hand brushing gently through Yvonne's blood-soaked hair. When the angel nodded, Joshua tried to cross himself, but with Yvonne in his arms, he thought better of it and just looked at Andrew helplessly.
"Yes, my name is Andrew, and was sent once before to Yvonne, back when she was twelve-years-old, and living with abuse," Andrew said softly as he stroked her face gently. "You have to get her help, now, if you don't she will die."
Joshua looked at the angel. "I don't want to leave her," he said softly, but nodded numbly.
"I'll stay with her, but you need to get her an ambulance," Andrew said gently.
The priest nodded and he slowly got up off the ground, slowly shifting Yvonne so that her head rested on Andrew's lap. Once he was on his feet, he ran as fast as he could back to the community center.
Once inside, he found a telephone and called the emergency number. After reporting what had happened, he returned outside to the young woman who had saved his life.
"T-they're on the way," Joshua said as he sat down on the ground next to her once again.
Andrew looked at Joshua. "You might try talking to her, Joshua. It is my experience that it does help."
Joshua nodded and closed his eyes. "Yvonne, forgive me, please, I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you. You see; ever since this story came out, I have tried to make heads or tails of it. I have wanted to try and understand what was happening to me and why I felt guilt for something that I had not done."
He paused briefly before he was able to continue speaking. "You see, I was probably just as shocked and saddened by all of these things as you were." He took a staggering breath and looked down at the face of the young woman. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you, I suppose if anything, I just wanted to find some sort of reason for all this happening. You're not at fault Yvonne."
In the distance, both Joshua and Andrew could hear the approaching ambulance and the angel came over and rested a hand on the shoulder of the younger man. "They will get her to the hospital."
"Why did she do this, Andrew, why did she push me out of the way?" He asked weakly as the ambulance pulled up next to where they were sitting and one of the paramedics got out.
"Because, one thing Yvonne could not fathom would be someone else to suffer in any way, that's why she felt so strongly about this that she pushed you out of the way," Andrew said softly. "She's a remarkable person, Joshua."
"I'm starting to see that," he said, but when one of the paramedics looked at him, he shrugged his shoulders and said nothing further.
Once Yvonne had been loaded into the ambulance, Joshua climbed in beside her.
On the street, Monica and Tess stood watching the scene, the younger of the two angels staring at the ambulance once the sirens started up and it had disappeared in the distance. "Tess, what just happened?" Monica asked.
"A man used his free will and upset the celestial apple cart, Miss Wings, now you will stay here and help Joshua, and I am to go and see about someone else."
"The man in the car?" Monica asked.
"His name is Brad Johnson, and his little brother was the boy Adam took home last night, the suicide case. Brad loved his brother, that's why it was so hard for him, but his hate is something that needs to be changed, and so the Father wants me to go find him, and try to help him find peace."
"That means, turning himself in, doesn't it?" Monica asked.
Tess nodded, "yes, now that he has tried to kill Joshua, chances are he's going to keep running until someone says that he needs to stop."
About four blocks from where he had hit the girl, Brad finally managed to stop driving and pulled his car to the side of the road. Why did that girl push that priest out of the way? The questions racked havoc on his mind, and he looked into the rearview mirror as tears caught in his eyes. I know what I did was wrong, he thought sadly to himself, but Patrick had been his little brother, and he was the one who should have protected him.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly as he stuck the key in the ignition, turned it, and listened as the small car roared to life. He sat for some moments with only the motor idling, all the while; all he could hear were these specific sounds as they resonated around him.
Seconds passed and he literally jumped out of his skin when someone had tapped on his window. He glanced over and could see that a woman with mahogany colored skin was standing next to the passenger side window, a warm smile on her face and a duffle bag hanging loosely over her shoulder. He leaned over and rolled down the window before speaking to her.
"Yeah?" He looked at her somewhat hesitantly, there was an overwhelming sense of fear in his eyes, but when his eyes met her own, all he saw was a look of empathy, and this, if anything, caused him to calm down, if but only slightly.
"Hello there," she said all the while smiling. "My name is Tess, and I was wondering if you were heading to Junction today and if I might get a ride with you. My car seems to have taken ill and chances are I won't be able to get anywhere with it."
"Sure, hop in," he said nonchalantly, but somewhere inside him, he could not deny that he was glad for the company, even if it was only for the thirty minute trek two towns over. If anything, he figured after a conversation with a stranger would possibly get his mind off of what had happened with the girl back at the street adjacent to the community center.
Tess opened the door and climbed into the passenger side and she looked at him. "It's a nice day, don't you think?" She asked once she had fastened her seatbelt, he shifted the car into gear and drove out onto the street.
"I didn't really notice," he mumbled under his breath, but continued speaking as a means to pacify Tess. "I guess I haven't really paid much attention to anything lately, if you want to know the truth."
"That's a pity," Tess offered with a warm smile. "It's such a beautiful day, a wonderful gift from God."
Brad swallowed the lump that unconsciously formed in his throat, but instead of speaking, he simply offered a curt nod.
Tess accepted his silence as an indication of a conversation that had never really gotten off the ground. After a few moments, when he did not speak, she simply nodded and looked out the window.
Brad continued to drive in the direction of Junction, all the while, in the back of his mind, he wondered about the girl he had brought harm to. He could not shake what he had done to her from his conscious and now he had this strange woman seated next to him.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he finally decided to break the silence, and spoke. "I grew up in Junction," he offered more to himself than to her.
"I have been there only once, but really liked it," Tess offered freely. "There is something so warm and caring about small towns. People seem to take that kind of thing for granted in the big cities."
Brad looked at her only briefly, his eyes clouding over. "Sometimes the towns that are as small as Junction are a curse."
The abrupt response was hardly what the angel expected, but when she looked at him, she could see so much anger in him that she opted not to respond. What is it about him, Father that makes him so angry? She prayed silently to herself.
After a few moments, instead of speaking to the angry young man, Tess closed her eyes as the Father's loving answer resonated her being.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
-*-*-*-*-
As the ambulance carrying Yvonne arrived at the hospital, Joshua was beside himself with worry. She saved my life, this one thought seemed to completely encompass his conscious and at this precise instant, he was at a loss as to what it was he was supposed to do.
He followed the gurney with Yvonne's unconscious body in through the doors, but after a few moments, a nurse came over to him. "I'm sorry, Father, but you can't come into the emergency room right now. The doctors are doing whatever they can for your friend, and we'll let you know as soon as there is any news about her condition. Why don't you take a seat in the waiting area? We'll send someone with any information as soon as we know something."
Joshua nodded and walked with weighted steps in the direction of the large open space. He sat down in a chair, his shoulders slumped and his head down, but he remained there for some time staring at the lines along the tiled floor, his eyes filled with sadness.
Eventually, he glanced up and could see a small chapel off to one side of the waiting room. He slowly got to his feet and he walked towards it, his eyes were filled with tears as he opened the heavy wooden door and came inside the empty room.
He walked down the aisle to the front of the room where he sadly lowered himself into a seat, his hands folded as he looked around. This was a very simple hospital chapel; the blinds were lowered, giving it a more somber impression. Somehow, even in the darkness, he felt a strange sense of comfort in this place.
In the front, he could see that there was a Bible opened and he stood up and approached it, his hand touching the smooth surface of the thin pages. As he beheld the Psalm that was printed on the page before him, tears sprang to his eyes as he began to read: God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble… As the tears streamed from beneath his eyes, he turned from the large black covered book and returned to his seat, the forty-sixth Psalm somehow echoing in his mind.
Sighing sadly, he glanced skyward. "Father, please help me," he began, his voice trembling. "I am so scared."
As he continued to speak, his prayers filled with despondency, he did not notice that the door had opened and Monica had come into the chapel. She stood in the back of the room and listened to the words of the young priest, and she could feel the sadness enveloping her when she heard the agonizing words emerging from him. As she looked around the room, she could feel the sedateness of the room literally enveloping her, and instead of standing there and staring at him, she walked slowly up the aisle until she reached the place where he was seated. She stood next to the row of seats for a few seconds and merely listened as he continued to pray.
"I know I should keep the faith, that when made my vow to you to be your servant, I just had no idea that something like this would even happen, and now…Now a girl lies in a coma upstairs, and it's all because of me…" His voice trailed off and he was so immersed in his hopelessness that he didn't notice that Monica had taken the opportunity to sit down next to him. "What will I do if that girl dies?" He asked the stillness. "I am so scared of what I will do now that I have to answer for what has happened to her."
"God knows you're afraid, Joshua, He knows that you feel at fault for what happened today, but you are not the one who is responsible," Monica said softly, thus causing him to look up, his eyes filled with sadness, but instead of continuing to pray, he licked his dry lips as he addressed her.
"Hello Monica," he whispered as he remembered the conversation he had had with her back at the community center. She had been so understanding as well as emphatic when she had spoken to him. He smiled weakly as he recalled how nice and unassuming she was, there was an uncanny gentleness of faith that seemed to envelope her and this seemed to emanate her through a warm and kind disposition. "I suppose you're here because you heard all about what happened this afternoon." He paused as he looked at her. "Monica, I didn't see you come outside, but it was horrible. I turned around after she called my name, and…" his voice trailed.
"…You saw her get hit by the car," Monica finished for him and when he nodded, she continued to speak, her voice soft. "Joshua, I really think you should go to the police and tell them what you saw, it might help this tragedy find some sense of closure. You know that Yvonne was a victim of a hit and run accident. Only you can help her find justice since you were the only one who saw the accident actually happen."
"H-how do you know that?" He asked.
Monica smiled weakly and offered him a gentle nod. "I was in the center when you came in to call for the ambulance. You were pretty upset; so naturally, I followed you back outside. I suppose you didn't see me because you were a wee bit upset. Would you like to talk about what happened?" She offered, and smiled weakly. "Some people have said that I am a good listener."
"What's there to talk about?" He asked weakly. "I mean; so many people come to me for advice, and spiritual direction, but I don't know if I am capable of even giving it anymore. Monica, I don't know what there is left for me to talk about or to do. All I know is that it should have been me in the emergency room in a coma, I should have been the one that man hit, not her."
"No, it shouldn't Joshua," Monica said gently. "Sometimes things like this happen, but it doesn't mean that God would exchange your life for someone else's." She rested her hand on his slumped shoulder. "I know that you have a hard time believing this, but Yvonne did what she did because she cares, and right now, I think you know that what she needs is for her friends to stand by and pray for her. She needs to know that what she has done has made a difference. She needs to know that her life is of so much worth and significance, but instead of realizing this, she saw the value of yours, which is why she did what she did."
"Why did she? I got angry with her, I told her that she was stereotyping me," Joshua said. "I'm supposed to be a man of God, Monica, I should not have gotten angry with her."
"You're also a child of God, Joshua, capable of making errors in judgment, capable of misinterpreting others," Monica said softly as she took a deep breath. "You made a choice, but don't run yourself down because of this, you simply made an err in judgment, nothing more."
"But, my err in judgment may have caused the death of a young woman," he said softly.
"Yvonne pushed you out of the way for a reason, Joshua, and maybe this was her way of saying, 'I'm sorry I hurt you, it was not my intention to downgrade your pain for mine'. She knows that you are hurting and that you need to understand that what both you and she have suffered from are linked, simply because they are stemmed from the same things."
"What should I say to her?" Joshua asked softly. "I wanted her to know how I felt."
"You put your words into her mouth, Joshua," Monica said gently. "You told her that she stereotyped priests, and maybe she did, but you forgot to try and understand why she did. To forget that she was sexually abused is not something that a victim can easily do. Many abuse victims are in therapy for months, sometimes years after their experience, some never fully recovering and some tragically becoming abusers themselves. They have a hard time getting into relationships, and they feel a sense of incompleteness because of how damaging this form of abuse can be. What you need to try and do is to see Yvonne, not as a victim, but as a survivor. Her pain is deep, yes, but her heart is very genuine and she really is trying to let go of all stereotypes. Will you help her do so? You and you alone hold the key to helping her find peace and healing."
Joshua nodded as he listened to her words. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with her. I didn't want to; it just suddenly happened."
"She knows," Monica said as she patted his shoulder gently.
"Do you know how she's doing?" Joshua asked softly.
"Well, as you probably know, Yvonne is in a coma right now, but I think she's going to come out of it soon. She needs to have her friends with her, and that should make all the difference in the world with regard to her recovery, however this is going to be painful for her, and she doesn't have a lot of friends around to help with it."
"I'm not her friend, Monica, a friend would not have put her there," Joshua said softly and got up to leave the room, but when he felt her hand reaching out and touching his, he turned back around to face her.
"Remember, Joshua Owens, a friend is one who would lay down their life for another. Yvonne has demonstrated that she is your friend, and now you must honor that friendship by doing nothing less than demonstrating the same for her."
"She's going to come out of it?" He asked softly.
"Yes," Monica said as she began to glow. "The Father will help her body heal, and He has chosen you to help her spirit find the healing it needs."
"H-how?" He asked weakly, but he might as well have spoken to the wall, because Monica had disappeared.
Realizing this, he started to look around the room, his eyes blurred by his tears. The news that Monica was an angel seemed not to have an overwhelming affect on him; he could only remember her words. He stood up and glanced skyward as he began to speak. "Father, I am at your disposal, please tell me what it is I need to do. Please, help me find the answers I need." As he stopped speaking, he closed his eyes. "Thank you for sending me an angel like Monica to guide me."
-*-*-*-*-
Andrew remained with Yvonne throughout the admittance process and until she eventually was transported to the Intensive Care. Her condition did not change and the Angel of Death thought his heart would break when he was once again sent to her, and he saw her for the first time since she had been admitted.
He stood next to her bed, his eyes brimming with tears as he glanced skyward. "Father, please, don't ask me to bring her Home, please, let her live."
Moments ticked by, but to the misery filled angel, that felt like hours when the Father finally told him what He wanted him to do. With tears still in his eyes, he looked down at his friend and assignment. "Yvonne, I'm so sorry all of this has happened to you."
As he spoke, he could still feel the tears brimming from beneath his eyes and streaming down his cheeks, thus leaving a streak of moistness in its wake. Rather than pay any attention to his disheveled appearance, he brushed a gentle hand across her cheek, his fingertips brushing along the white gauze that covered one side of her face. With his other hand he reached over and touched the side of her face where some of the skin was exposed and glanced up as the walls vanished from around them, leaving the angel and the young woman in a valley filled with flowers.
Yvonne reached up and touched her face, and after a few moments, she glanced around and could see that he was standing a few paces away from her. His eyes were gentle as he regarded her, but she could still see the tears that were in his eyes as the sun shone down on both of them. "Andrew, w-where am I?" She finally asked as she took a tentative step closer to him.
"You were hit by a car, Yvonne; you saved Joshua's life," he said softly as she reached where he was standing.
"Is this real?" She asked softly all the while looking around the meadow with wide eyes. After a few moments, she looked down at herself and could see that she was a wearing a floral print dress. She touched the fabric of the dress she wore, but looked at him and waited for an answer.
"Yes, it is," he said gently.
"Why am I here?" She asked as her lips began to tremble and she looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Hasn't God put me through enough?"
"Oh Yvonne," Andrew whispered softly. "Do you honestly believe that God would put you on Earth to punish you?" He gently brushed her tears from her eyes. "Is that why the past is so hard for you to take, because you feel as though God is somehow using it as a means to punish you for past mistakes?"
She nodded meekly as she looked at him. "I don't know what to think and I'm afraid to tell you how I feel right now, how afraid of Him I am."
"I know you're frightened, but you have no reason to be," he said as he rested his hand on her shoulder and helped her to sit down on the soft grass. Once they were both comfortable, Andrew looked at her, his eyes earnest. "Yvonne, what happened today was a man used his free-will to try to hurt someone because he was hurting. Instead of hurting Joshua, he hurt you."
She nodded, but stared at the ground. "He wanted to kill Joshua, didn't he? That was his motive, right?"
"Yes, but it was you who changed everything, Yvonne," he said softly, his hand still on her shoulder, and she reached up and held his hand there. She eventually looked into his eyes and when she saw the tears there, she reached her free hand out and touched his face.
"Y-you're crying, why?" Yvonne withdrew her hand, and waited for him to say something.
"You're my friend, Yvonne and although I was sent to you years ago to help you, I've been sent to you again," he smiled weakly at her as he shrugged his shoulders. "I know that you're scared, and my words somehow seem so hollow. I didn't know that this was going to happen to you."
"You couldn't have known," she looked up at him.
"No, I couldn't have."
She shook her head slowly "Andrew, what does God want me to do?"
"You've already done what the Father has hoped you would do, Yvonne, you put another person ahead of yourself, it's a beautiful token of friendship. Yet, now it is time for you to help two other people find their peace as well," he smiled gently at her.
"Is that what you say when someone is dying?" She asked weakly. "Is that why you came back, because I'm dying?"
"No, you won't die, sweetheart, not yet," he said gently and she could see the utter relief that shadowed his handsome face.
She nodded. "I used to think about the day I die. I would wonder what God is like, if He gave good hugs, or if He really understood me."
"He does understand you, Yvonne, probably much more than you realize," Andrew said softly.
"I guess that sounds really stupid from where you're sitting," she whispered as she looked down at the ground. "I mean; to listen to me talk about dying."
"No, it's not stupid at all, just tell me."
"Sometimes, I would remember when I was a little girl, it was back before we met, I mean; I would go see my grandparents every summer, and funny the children there were just as nasty and mean-spirited as they were at home. My mother used to ask me what I was doing that made the others treat me so badly. She always implied that it was my fault that I had done something wrong." Yvonne said softly as she shrugged her shoulders.
"Why would she ask you that?"
"I was kind of hoping you could tell me," she said softly as she picked up a blade of grass and ran it between her fingers.
He shook his head. "Sometimes, human behavior is even a mystery to me."
She smiled slightly as she looked down at her hands. "Andrew did I ever tell you that I saw an angel when I was a little girl?"
"No, you didn't."
"You kind of remind me of him, I mean; he was so beautiful, and kind. I had gotten very sick one night, and my grandfather had to take me to the hospital. I remember not being able to breath, the asthma was terrible, and I thought I was going to die. Anyway, when we got there, they took me into this white room, and I looked around and could see that there was someone with me. I thought he was a doctor because he was dressed in white, but he said nothing to me, he just sat by my bed. All I remembered was that there was something really special about him; he helped me to not to be afraid. I never told anyone about him and maybe that's why I didn't talk to him, I was afraid that they would all think I was crazy for seeing someone that they couldn't. Anyway, I just looked at him, stared into his eyes, and knew that whatever would happen, I had no reason to be afraid."
"That's why God sends angels, Yvonne," he said gently.
"But where was my angel when I was abused?" She whispered softly.
He reached over and brushed the tears from beneath her eyes. "He was right here."
Yvonne nodded apologetically. "I sometimes forget that you were there, that you had always been there with me through it all, like you were with Danielle, and her parents, and…"
"You don't ever forget, Yvonne, and you're not supposed to. Forgive and forget is an illusion, you forgive, because God helps to find forgiveness, but you don't forget, you can't. You find a way to live with the events in your life and you discover a part of yourself that you may not have known before."
"Sometimes, I wish I could forget," she shook her head.
"I know you do, but through your story, you've inspired people. Not just because it happened seven years ago, but did you know that Joshua Owens went to the community center to help after he read your story this morning?" Andrew smiled at his friend. "You have all the power you need, and you know what? As long as you trust that God will see you through, He will be there with you, and he will give you what you need."
Yvonne nodded as she looked down at the ground. "I had forgotten so much about the past, not the bad stuff, but the good, the angel, and then all at once, I remembered what happened to me and how I was suddenly able to recall the day, and the moment. It was as if I was trying to find a piece of my childhood through those memories. It was comforting to me, that my life wasn't just the bad parts, but that there was something beautiful there too." She looked down at her lap. "People are always telling me to 'look on the bright side' and oddly enough, I did try, but how can I when I keep seeing injustice? How can I when I am still crying inside and it's like an open wound, that every time something else happens, it starts to bleed again?"
Andrew wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his embrace, her head coming to rest against his chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, just savoring the feel of having him hold her. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "You will heal, Yvonne."
"When?" She whimpered. "Andrew, what more is going to happen to me before I do?" She asked softly.
"I don't know, but I do know that God will help you, I think you know that," he said gently.
Instead of speaking, their embrace loosened and she looked up at him as she pulled her knees up against her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She looked into the eyes of the angel uncertain of what it was she should say next.
Andrew smiled gently at his young friend and after a few moments, he spoke. "It's time to go back."
Yvonne looked at him. "What's going to happen to me, Andrew?"
"You will have to go through a certain amount of rehabilitation, Yvonne," he said softly.
"You mean, physical therapy?" She asked and he nodded. "Oh God, why did this happen to me?"
"You chose to save a man's life, Yvonne," was all Andrew could say as the meadow disappeared and they were once more in her hospital room. "Now, you will have to do what you can to salvage your own."
It was some hours later that Joshua managed to gain access to Yvonne's room and as he entered the room and saw her for the first time, the color faded from his already pale face. He approached the bed, his hands clasped together as he looked down at her. The first thing he noticed was that her face was covered with a white gauze, and he guessed that she must have sustained a concussion as well as possibly sustaining a number of other internal injuries.
He took a deep breath as he sat down in the empty chair that was situated next to the bed. "Oh Father," he whispered under his breath as he reached over and brushed a small strand of Yvonne's hair that had peeked out from beneath the gauze that covered her face.
He looked around the now still hospital room and could see that it was empty. "Doesn't she have any family?" He whispered under his breath as he looked around the empty room and not even seeing someone next to the door that seemed to care for the fate of this young woman.
"The only family that Yvonne has now, are the Jensen family and they are out in California," Andrew spoke, thus causing the priest to look up and see him standing in the room. Joshua nodded, his eyes filled with sadness as he stared down at the young woman who slept on the large hospital bed.
"C-can you talk to her?" Joshua asked weakly.
"Yes," came the simple answer.
"Will you tell her that I'm sorry?"
"She said there is no reason for you to be sorry," Andrew said softly. "She wants you to know that you are not at fault for what has happened to her."
Joshua looked at Andrew. "Is she going to wake up?"
"Eventually, yes," Andrew said softly as he sat down in the nearby chair and pulled his pocket watch out and opened it, but after a few moments, he returned it to his pocket and looked over to see that Joshua was now staring at Andrew.
"You're an Angel of Death, aren't you?" He eventually found the courage to speak.
Andrew nodded, "yes, I was sent to Yvonne a few years ago, but not because she could have died, but because someone had tried to kill her spirit. Today, she is my friend, and she is someone I care deeply for."
"I believe you," Joshua said softly as he looked down at her as she slept. "It's all my fault. What has happened to her is all my fault."
The angel shook his head. "No, Joshua, it's not your fault."
"Just look at her, Andrew," Joshua said softly as he reached over and touched the exposed skin on one side of Yvonne's face. "She would be OK if she hadn't have pushed me out of the way. I should have been the one who was hit, not her."
"You would have died, Joshua," Andrew said gently. "Yvonne did what she did so that you could both live."
He looked down at her as she slept. "She hates me, because of what I am."
Andrew shook his head. "No, she hates the pain that is so deep in her heart. That is what she can't let go of, she will never forget what has happened to her; she will never ever forget what one man did to her, but until she finds forgiveness, she will not be totally freed from the past."
"What can I do?"
"Just be her friend, Joshua. Let the gentle, kind, and compassionate friend come forth and let that help her find healing," Andrew said gently.
"Can she hear me?"
"Yes, she can, you can try talking to her, let her know that you are here and that you care," Andrew said, "the rest will be up to her."
"She's strong," Joshua said as he reached for her hand, and held it tightly in his own.
"Yes, she is, but sometimes even the strongest of us experience our weakest moments," The angel said with a gentle smile on his face.
Joshua looked down at her and nodded before he started to speak, his voice filled with uncertainty. "Yvonne, can you hear me?" As he spoke, he looked up at the angel, who offered him an encouraging nod before he was able to continue. "It's Joshua, and I wanted to thank you for what you did for me."
As he spoke he could feel the tears streaming from beneath his eyes. He released her hand to wipe the moisture away from his eyes, but when he went to take her hand again, he realized that her hand had moved.
-*-*-*-*-
It was raining when they reached Junction and Brad pulled the car into the parking lot of the local diner. "You can get anywhere you want to go in town from here," he said. "There's also a local telegraph station and you can send a telegram to your people, if you need to send a letter, there's a post office a block over, as well."
"Thank you," Tess said. "Wouldn't you like to have a cup of coffee with me before you go home? I would like to treat you to lunch as well, just a way of saying thank you for giving me a ride."
"No big deal, I was coming in this direction anyway," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Most of the locals around here would have done the same thing anyway."
"I'm surprised that you don't like it if people are so kind," Tess said. "By the way, what's your name?"
"It's Brad," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Listen, Tess, I really wasn't planning on sticking around, I just thought that I'd drop you off and head back east."
"You're going east, well isn't that a coincidence?" Tess remarked smiling brightly. "Do you mind if I come along with you, I mean, I only needed to get to Junction so that I could check the bus schedule, but if you are going east, then maybe I could give you the money I was intending on using for bus faire and we could split the cost for gasoline."
"Excuse me? I thought you just wanted to come to this little hick town and hang out," he said somewhat nervously.
"Well, actually, I really needed to get to Memphis," Tess said softly.
Brad looked at her and sighed deeply. "I don't think that it's such a good idea for you to be traveling with me," he began, not bothering to tell her that he was probably wanted for the hit and run accident two towns over. Instead he looked at her and released a pent up sigh, "Maybe I will take you up on the offer for a cup of coffee, but I can't take you with me, I'm sorry."
Tess nodded, but once they got out of the car, she could see that something was seriously wrong with Brad, his face was unusually pale and he looked as though he was going to collapse at any moment.
"Are you OK?" She eventually asked him.
"Oh, yeah, no big deal," he said. "Maybe a cup of coffee and some lunch would do me some good."
Tess smiled as they walked in the direction of the café. Once inside they went over to a corner table and sat down. Tess reached for a menu and opened it, but Brad did not follow suit. Instead, he remained seated and stared down at the tabletop.
"I don't believe it, Brad Johnson. I haven't seen you back here since '83." A masculine voice emerged and he looked up to see another man walking towards them.
"Who are you?" Brad asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on the person who had addressed him.
"It's me, dude, Rusty, from sixth grade, you know Mrs. Harwood's art class?"
Brad nodded, "yeah, I seem to recall. You were that short kid with coke bottle glasses, right?"
"Yep, that was me, but today, I'm getting my masters in Art History," he smiled as he continued to speak his words flowing freely. "I just got back into town a few weeks ago to work here, my folks own this café and they called me up and said that they were short handed during the summer." He looked at Brad, but then his gaze came to rest on Tess who was sitting at the table and wordlessly listening to their conversation. "Who's your friend, I don't believe we met?"
"This is Tess, but she's just someone I was giving a lift into town to," Brad explained. "Tess, this is my old buddy from school, Rusty. Anyway, she's heading east, and will probably want to check in at the bus despot after we have a cup of coffee."
"Nice to meet you, Ma'am, but I have some bad news for you," Rusty began to speak to the angel as he regarded her. "The bus station doesn't have any busses going out, on account of the flooding that's been going on in Stevensville. It's been positively horrid."
"I didn't hear anything about it, but then again, the radio in my car has been busted for months," Brad said. "I kept thinking about getting it fixed, but never seemed to have the cash on hand."
"I guess you wouldn't hear about it," Rusty said as a man in a beige suit came into the café and sat down on a stool which was situated next to the counter. "Excuse me, but duty calls."
Tess turned around and when she recognized the man as being Adam, she glanced back over towards Brad, all the while she realized that Rusty had probably been telling the truth, and that there was a reason why she would not be getting out of town that day. Her attention diverted back over towards Brad, and she could almost tell what the young man was thinking, he was concerning himself with the same pressing situation. If the busses were not getting out of town, she concluded, then chances are, he would not get too far in his small car, either.
"Excuse me," she said after a few moments had passed and when Brad nodded, she stood up and went over to where Adam was standing next to the counter. Rusty had gone to the back to retrieve his order and Tess took a few moments to speak to the Angel of Death. "What are you doing here?"
"Didn't you know, Tess, I requested to be put on this case too," Adam said smiling at her.
"No, I didn't hear any such thing," Tess looked at him pointedly, her expression silently demanding some sort of explanation.
"Do you remember Danielle Jensen?" Adam asked after a few moments of silence passed between them.
Tess nodded. "Yes, she was Yvonne's friend."
"When I took some accident victims home some time ago, Danielle came and asked me to come back to see how Yvonne was doing," Adam said. "You know I couldn't say 'no' to her, and you also know that things here are kind of wavering out of control."
"I heard that you took Brad's brother home," Tess asked.
Adam's face contorted and after a few moments, he nodded solemnly. "He didn't want to go, he didn't want anything to do with a God who would ordain those who molest children." The Angel of Death's face looked agonized. "Tess, these people aren't ordained by God."
"Adam, you know as well as I do that they are not, that the Father weeps for children like Yvonne, who have lived through this, but He has not abandoned them, not by any means," Tess said softly. "You were sent to Brad's brother for a reason, and you may not know that reason, but the Father does, and you need to trust Him."
Adam nodded numbly, but instead of speaking further, he reached up and could feel the tears that were streaming beneath his sad gray eyes. "Yes, and now I have to do casework at the police department. You know, I haven't done casework in a very long time, and I'm not even certain I am capable of doing it at all."
Tess responded by reaching over and wrapping the younger, distraught angel in her arms. "It's going to be OK, Angel Boy, you'll see," she consoled him gently; the only thing she did not add was that she had absolutely no idea how.
-*-*-*-*-
Joshua was still seated in Yvonne's hospital room and he was looking down at her as was waking up. As she did, a doctor and two nurses rushed in the room, thus ushering him out. As he was exiting the room, the doctor looked down at Yvonne. "Miss Hudson?"
"W-where am I?" She whispered, her throat dry. "Andrew?"
"No, my name is Dr. Jameson, Miss Hudson," the man answered. "I am the doctor assigned to your case. How do you feel?"
Yvonne nodded, but her eyes started taking in the room around her and when she saw Andrew in the corner, she watched as he came closer to her and rested his hand on her shoulder, the pressure only felt by her and went unnoticed by the doctor or the nurses that were now in the room tending to her. As she became aware that she could not feel her legs, she looked at the doctor, her eyes filled with fear. "Why can't I feel my legs?"
"You're temporary paralyzed, Miss Hudson," the doctor said after he had consulted the chart that was on a nearby table. "It appears as though you will have to go through intensive physical therapy," he began, "after you get through this, you will probably be able to handle walking again, but until then, you'll be confined to a wheelchair."
Yvonne, upon hearing this news, shook her head as the color faded from her already pale cheeks and she regarded the doctor with wide-eyed shock. "No, please, you must be mistaken, anything but that."
Andrew continued to squeeze her shoulder, but by this time, she was positively beside herself with the news and instead of addressing Andrew, she looked at the doctor. "How long?"
"I'm sorry, I don't really know," the doctor said softly, "some cases are in therapy for weeks, some for months." He shrugged his shoulders but looked down at her. "Please excuse me, if you need anything, just let the nursing staff know, OK?" Once she nodded, he left the room leaving her in the care of the two nurses. Once the doctor was gone, Joshua was able to once more enter the room.
Once the two nurses were gone, Yvonne said nothing; she just stared down at her lap, and then back at Andrew.
"I should have just died," she whispered. "I don't know if I can handle this."
Andrew was struck speechless, his sad green eyes speaking volumes, but the next words emerged from Joshua and not him. "You don't mean that, Yvonne you're alive and that's a miracle in and of itself."
Yvonne shook her head. "My life is not a miracle, Joshua, there is nothing miraculous about it. It has been nothing but an endless struggle for survival; I was abused then I was run over by some maniac in a mustang. I mean; there must be a reason why I would have to live through all of this, why I would be punished like this."
"You're not being punished, Yvonne…" Andrew began, but before he could continue speaking, she had interrupted him.
"…I have listened to this same story for years, and I don't know what I'm supposed to believe anymore, but I do know that I want to be alone, please, just go away," she whispered. Her eyes closed and they could both see the tears streaming from beneath her eyes.
Joshua sat down on one of the chairs and looked at her, all the while, shaking his head. "I won't leave, Yvonne, at least not until I apologize to you."
"Apologize to me?" She asked weakly. "What for?"
"For saying those things I said to you back at the community center. I'm sorry I hurt you without realizing that you carried your own sense of pain in all of this," he said softly.
Yvonne looked down at her lap. "You couldn't have known."
"I guess not," he said softly.
"Nothing really matters anymore," she said softly. "I'm probably going to be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I don't know what to take it as other than a punishment for being such a terrible person."
Joshua looked at Andrew as he sat down on the opposite side of the bed, he could clearly see that the angel's face filled with sadness. Instead of speaking, he remained silent as Yvonne looked at the priest.
"I guess you would probably be the first one who would tell me that I should go and pray about it, huh?" Yvonne mused and she looked at Andrew, who was still next to her, but all the while she wondered if Joshua could see that Andrew was present.
"You know there's something I probably would be foolish to admit especially in Andrew's company," he began, but before he could continue, she interrupted him.
"You see him here?" Yvonne asked weakly.
"Yes, I do, Yvonne," Joshua said softly. "He's been with you since all this happened, and I think he really cares about you." He looked at the angel and when he received a reciprocating nod he took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"What did you want to say?" She asked softly. "I guess you probably want to tell me to keep the faith, huh?"
"Actually, there was not much that I really wanted to say simply because I don't know how much faith I have left," Joshua began. "You saved my life, and the last thing I could ever think about doing would be to give you some sort of advice on the issue of faith. I always thought I was so certain about what faith was or about what my life meant, but now I don't know. It scares me and yet I don't even know why."
Yvonne thought about the words he had spoken. "You're really scared?"
Andrew reached for her hand. "Everyone is afraid once in awhile, Yvonne, you're not the only one who has experienced this sort of feeling."
She nodded as she looked at the angel. "I know you're right, but what does one do when they're so afraid, Andrew?"
"Pray; and ask God to be there and to take the fear away," the angel said softly as he brushed a lock of her hair out from in front of her face. "God sent you a new friend, Yvonne, take the gift and embrace it by letting a new friend into your world. There is a reason, you know?"
Yvonne nodded and she looked back over at Joshua, but when she looked back over in Andrew's direction with the intention of saying something further, she realized that the angel had disappeared. Sighing deeply she looked up at him. "I guess, I should have asked you if you were OK, or if that man had hurt you."
"No, you prevented that from happening," Joshua said. "Yvonne, why did you push me out of the way?"
"I don't know, I didn't think about it," she shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes I try to shut myself off from an experience so I don't feel or remember anything. I know that that probably sounds rather stupid to you, but every time something traumatic happens, I would try to block it out. I think that's why I have the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome," she looked at him. "I guess you wouldn't know about stuff like that, huh? I mean; you probably grew up in picture perfect family and the greatest worry was whether or not the meatloaf was outdated," she whispered.
"I guess you could say that, but I do know a lot of people who didn't," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, my best friend's family has been through everything and then some, and often times I would realize just how lucky I really was to have the family that I have."
"I envy you," she whispered sadly as she looked down at her lap.
"Why?" He asked, his voice soft.
"Because it would have been easier for me to have lived in a nice family, and not to have everyone turn their backs on me when I needed them the most," Yvonne could feel the tears in her eyes.
"You have no family? None at all?" Once she shook her head, he continued. "Where are they?"
"They're gone," Yvonne replied weakly.
"Gone, what do you mean?"
"They told me after I spoke about what had happened with Rick that I was no longer a part of their family, that I was no longer important enough to them, that I ruined everything," she said sadly. "I haven't seen them since I was twelve."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
"No big deal," she said shaking her head, and trying to block the tears as they relentlessly streamed from beneath her eyes but shook her head sadly.
"I would think that it is a very big deal, you are, after all, crying," he said.
Stubbornly, she wiped her hand over her face. "You don't ever miss what you don't have. I mean just take a look around this room, I have no one to visit me, no friends, I'm alone here except for Andrew, but he's an angel and he comes and goes. I thought it would help if I came to a completely new place and start over, but I can't forget and it hurts too much to even try."
Joshua reached for her hand. "You have someone now, Yvonne, and I don't just mean the angels, either."
"You?"
He nodded. "You're not alone now, I know that I did you a great disservice, but I want to be there for you, and be your friend, the same way as you have been my friend."
"I don't know if I am capable of being anyone's friend, I mean; have to go through rehabilitation, and I'm so scared, because I know that I'll be going through it all alone. The funniest thing is, my best friend was so brave. She died when I was twelve, her name was Danielle, and she had Leukemia," Yvonne said softly as she shook her head. "Her last wish was to make sure that I would be OK after she died. She made sure that her parents took me in, sort of adopted me, but when I turned eighteen, they figured that it was time for me to be on my own, and they brought me to this town, helped me get settled in an apartment, and then left to go out to California. I don't blame them, I know it was all a bit much for them losing the daughter they loved more than anything, and making a space for me, the constant reminder of what it was they had lost. I mean; being on my own was hard, but ever since she had died, I have felt as though I was doing this all on my own."
"You're not," Joshua said smiling weakly. "I'll help you get through it, I promise."
Yvonne looked around the room. "I guess Andrew's gone now."
"Maybe he just needed a break, after all he has been here non-stop since you were admitted. Chances are, even an angel probably needs a coffee break, too," Joshua smiled weakly as he continued to speak. "Besides, I have a funny feeling that he's your friend, he loves you, and chances are, he will not leave you alone with all of this any more than I would."
"Thank you," she whispered as she reached for his hand. "It's strange, but I really do trust you, more than I even trust myself."
He reached over and brushed a lock of her hair out from in front of her eyes. "I'm really glad." As he spoke, he could feel the ever-present lump still lodged in the back of his throat, but he smiled weakly as he spoke.
The following day, Joshua made the decision to go file a report with the police before going to help Yvonne get started with her first day of physical therapy. He realized that chances are, he had put this off long enough. He stood in front of the precinct house upon arriving there and he sighed deeply. It was such a beautiful day, no question, but the weather was subject to change and the young priest, between his work at the church, and his visits with his new friend, he was exhausted. On top of that, he could tell that many of the hospital staff seemed to be reacting uncomfortably with his presence there, but none of that seemed to matter at all. Cold stares seemed to somehow not intimidate him anymore.
In front of the precinct house, Joshua stood for a few moments before opening the glass doors and going inside the small two-story building. Once inside, he could see a sliding glass window that looked like that which would be in a doctor's waiting room. He waited for a moment until someone had reached the counter, slid the glass aside and he was face to face with a gray-eyed police officer. "Good morning," he eventually said to the man standing behind the counter.
"Good morning," came the reciprocating response and the policeman's eyes carried a friendly, almost emphatic sense about them.
"My name is Joshua Owens, and I need to report a hit and run accident that I witnessed yesterday," he began as he read the badge on the officer's uniform and saw the name 'Adam' embossed there. Oddly enough, he did not see a surname, but by then he was uncertain if his memories of the events that had landed Yvonne in the hospital would be something, which would help them catch the perpetrator.
"Why didn't you come by and report this sooner?" Adam asked trying to stick with protocol, but also knowing that the young man was somewhat upset by what he had actually seen.
"The victim of this accident is a very dear friend of mine; she has no family left, so I wanted to make sure she was OK before I left the hospital to come here," Joshua began, his voice somewhat cracking. "The point is; I'm here now and I need to let someone know what I saw and that I was able to remember the license number of the car that had hit her."
"You actually remember the number?" Adam asked as he rubbed his bearded chin with his hand.
"I have always been good with observing things," he offered as he shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, I guess I saw the numbers rather well because the car that hit her was actually coming towards me, and I suppose, in retrospect, he had the intention of running me over," Joshua looked into Adam's gray eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
Adam nodded as he came from behind the counter and offered a chair to Joshua and once the two of them had sat down, he placed a piece of paper in front of him. "This is the report you need to fill out," he began.
"Yes, I'm familiar with the procedure, my friend Jess had a bad break up and I had to help her find the courage to come here and file a similar report," Joshua said softly.
Adam smiled as he indicated a closed door. "Please come with me," he began. "We can take care of this down the hall and in one of the smaller rooms. It might be more comfortable for you."
Joshua nodded and once they had gone into a neighboring room, Joshua began to fill out the paperwork.
As he wrote, Adam spoke. "How is Yvonne doing?"
"She was pretty upset about having to go through Physical Therapy," Joshua responded. "She has not taken the news exceedingly well, but what can anyone expect?"
As he listened to Joshua speak, Adam nodded sadly, and after a few moments, he looked at the young priest. "I heard about what happened to her when she was younger, the newspaper seems to report a great deal of events that are taking place."
"You saw the article too?" Joshua asked. "I thought it was four towns over."
"Yes, it was, but I knew Danielle briefly," Adam said. "I met her before she was diagnosed and then spent some time in her company."
Joshua nodded, but continued to write. "I would have loved to have met her. She sounded like a real trouper."
"She was, a very courageous young lady," Adam said smiling weakly, but he noticed that Joshua was somewhat quiet and almost seemed reflective in nature. "Is everything OK?" The Angel of Death turned Caseworker asked.
Joshua said nothing; he simply slid the paper across the table towards Adam.
"I'll be right back, I need to run this license number through DMV," Adam said. "Would you like a cup of coffee or maybe something to eat? I can get you a pastry from the vending machine to nibble on while you wait."
Joshua shook his head and stared down at the table as Adam left the room.
-*-*-*-*-
That same morning, Brad had woken up after falling asleep in his car. He was tired, but figured that now was the time for him to get going. The night before, he had found a campground, parked and had fallen asleep in the backseat. His eyes were still filled with his tiredness and he yawned as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
He looked around the area, his hand now rubbing his eyes, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Tess standing next to the car, her hand tapping gently on the glass.
He rolled down the window and looked up at her through a pair of angry eyes. "Lady, why don't you just get lost?" He asked angrily.
Tess looked at him crossly as she tossed a newspaper inside the car through the open window. "I am surprised that you didn't tell me about this sooner," she offered sarcastically.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"I mean, today is the day of your brother's funeral, shouldn't you be back home in Stevensville, and not sitting here in Junction and sleeping in your car?" Tess asked softly.
"H-how did you know that?" Brad stammered.
"Well, it's not hard to tell, just take a look at this picture, he looked just like you, Brad," Tess said softly. "I thought that maybe you might want to talk about this."
"What's there to talk about, he killed himself?" Brad asked bitterly.
Tess looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness. "Yes, he used his free will, which is a gift that God gave him and ended his life. But, baby, this isn't just about him, it's also about you, too. That's why I'm here, I want to help you, but I can't unless you choose to help yourself."
"What difference is that going to make now?" Brad asked crossly, but instead of her leaving, he watched as Tess opened the door and climbed inside the backseat as he was sitting up.
"It won't make any difference to your brother, baby, but it can make a grave difference to you," she said gently. "Brad, I know about what happened yesterday, you were leaving Stevensville after running over a young woman."
"You couldn't possibly know this, you're just some lady I met when I was leaving town," he objected.
"You can lie to me all you want, but you will never succeed in lying to yourself Brad Johnson," Tess said simply as she began to glow.
"Who are you?" Brad asked. "How did you know my last name, I never told it to anyone."
"I know what God wishes for me to know, Brad, I am an angel sent by Him to help you," she said softly.
"How can an angel help me?" He asked crossly.
"An angel cannot help you, an angel can only direct you to the one who can," Tess said as she looked pointedly at the young man. "You want to believe that an angel from God can step in and erase the abuse a man subjected your brother to. You want to have the assurances that God would step in and help your brother find his peace, but the only way Terry could have found peace was to go to God directly in prayer," Tess said. "God wasn't beyond the prayers of your brother, and He would have provided him with answers if he had asked."
"That priest hurt my brother," Brad whispered.
"The one who stands accused of child abuse, or the one you tried to run over with your car?" Tess asked as she looked at the young man earnestly. "Do you know that the young woman you hit was not only the person who saved the life of Joshua Owens, but she was also a victim of sexual abuse?"
"I-I didn't know," Brad managed to speak.
"Yes, I know, and God knows as well, but anger is anger, and what is the difference when someone takes the innocence of a child away as opposed to someone who tries to run a priest down? You have run away from what you have done; yet this young woman did step in front of your car and push an innocent man out of the way. Do you remember seven years ago when you were in junior high, and you and a group of children started ganging up on a little girl?"
"We did a lot of stupid things as kids," Brad said softly.
"Perhaps, but do you remember the name of the girl you harassed at school, Brad?" Tess asked hoping that she would be able to jog his memory.
"No, it was seven years ago. Why should I remember someone from seven years ago?"
"Because this girl was the one you hit yesterday," Tess said sadly. "Her name is Yvonne Hudson."
"That was Yvonne?" Brad shook his head. "No way!"
Tess looked at him. "Why do you say that? You remembered Rusty from the café yesterday, but the question is, do you even remember her?" As she spoke, a newspaper suddenly appeared on her lap, she unfolded, and opened it. "Take a look at this, Brad."
As if propelled by sheer adrenaline, Brad accepted the newspaper out of the angel's hands and opened it to the page where the article he was to read was printed. Splashed across one side of the page, he could see a photograph of a younger version of the woman he had run down the day before. "It was Yvonne Hudson, wasn't it? I mean; she's the same girl I went to school with, the same one who pushed that guy out from in front of my car."
"Yes, it was Yvonne. She had moved to Stevensville from here last year, she wanted a break, she wanted to find peace from the past, and she wanted to forget how horribly she had been unmercifully teased and tormented in school. I remember you, I was the choir director there for a short time, and I had witnessed you and the other children teasing and humiliating her. You never stopped to ponder why it was that she was so sensitive about things, nor did you see the damage your teasing did to her spirit. You mocked her because she would cry at the drop of a hat, but you never pondered why, and the reason was that she was hurting in a profound and prolific way. She never used anger to come back and attack you, yet after your brother's suicide, you took your anger out on a man who is not responsible for your lot in life. However, while you were teasing Yvonne Hudson back in school, you never stopped or even considered that she had been molested by her mother's boyfriend," Tess said as she folded her hands. "Now, sadly, you know the truth, and it will be your choice as to how you handle that truth."
"She was really abused?" Brad asked.
"Yes, she was, and God loved her so much that He sent her an angel who helped her find the courage to stand up for herself and to tell the world what had been happening to her. It did not come about by going after and stereotyping another, it happened because Yvonne had more courage and strength than you, or anyone else, gave her credit for having."
Brad looked down at his hands. "She knew…" his voice trailed off and he looked at Tess hopelessly.
"Yvonne did know what she was doing, she wept not only for Terry, but she wept for herself as well as other victims of abuse. Now, she lays in a hospital bed, is getting ready to undergo extensive physical therapy," she paused, but after a few moments, she continued to speak, her voice soft. "Brad, God loves you, and He hopes that you will make the right decision, but you have to understand one thing, and that is, your brother made a choice, and now you have to make the same one. It will solely be up to you, and neither the Father nor myself can or will be able to tell you what choice it is that you should make. We will step back and let you make that choice. I will tell you this, if you choose to run, you may be running for the rest of your life."
He looked crossly at her, but instead of speaking, he shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his lap. "If I go back, I will probably end up in jail."
"Well, baby, think about this. There is a young woman who will most likely be spending at least a half a year confined to a wheelchair because of your choices. Just consider the fact that at least you can walk back and face the truth on two healthy legs; she will have to be pushed."
After thinking about Tess' words, he was about to speak when he realized that she was now gone and he was once again alone.
-*-*-*-*-
When Adam returned with the information he had been able to obtain from the DMV, his face was pale. He had managed to get the name of the culprit, at least the name the car was registered and this was not a very positive feeling. He had been the angel that had taken Terry Johnson Home and the car was registered to Terry's older brother Brad.
He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as he came back into the small room and regarded a very confused Joshua.
"Did you find out who owns the car?" Joshua asked.
Adam nodded. "The car is registered to Brad Johnson.
The young priest looked at the angel. "He's related to Terry Johnson, the boy who came forward about being molested by a parish priest?"
"It's his brother, Joshua," Adam said softly.
"His brother?" Joshua's face completely lost all its color. "Oh my God." He covered his face with his hand and shook his head. "Then he was trying to run me over. After his brother killed himself, he probably figured that the only thing he could do was to go after anyone in the clergy."
"You don't know that," Adam said softly, his voice was unconvincing simply because he knew that Joshua had figured out the truth on his own.
"It's true though," Joshua said. "If it was my brother…"
"…You would not have done the same thing, Joshua, you would have tried to understand what had happened," Adam said. "You can't blame yourself for this, it was an event that shouldn't have taken place."
"Maybe not, but how can I face my friend all the while knowing that I'm the reason she lays in a hospital bed all alone?" Joshua said softly. "It is my fault, and God forgive me, because I can't forgive myself for this."
Once he got up from the table, he left the room leaving Adam sitting there staring down at the form he held in his hand. Seconds later, Monica appeared next to him and she rested a gentle hand on his slumped shoulder.
"Adam?"
"Monica, I blew it," he said softly. "I hope you will be able to reach him, he seems so lost."
"Don't worry, the Father knows where he is," Monica said with a gentle smile on her face. "You know, you had to tell him the truth, you couldn't have kept this truth to yourself. The Father wanted you to tell him, and you did, now just keep the faith."
Adam reached over and squeezed her hand. "You're a great angel, Monica."
"Well, so are you," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. She could see the tears beginning to stream from beneath his sad gray eyes. "Hey, don't cloud up and rain on me, Adam. You did fine, you talked to him and you were there for him."
"I failed him, Monica, I suppose this will be the last time I get to do casework," he said softly.
"Don't hold your breath, Angel Boy," Tess' voice emerged and he looked up to see the supervisor standing there. "You told the truth, Adam, and no one could have expected more from you. Now, you just keep your little angel butt right where it is, you're not done here just yet."
"What more can I do?" He asked.
"You still have a promise to fulfill for Danielle, and I don't think that she will let you off the hook before you see Yvonne," Tess said.
"But, Tess, she's at the hospital and will have to undergo physical therapy," Monica said softly.
"I know, baby, but she will eventually get out, and then she will have to come here and file charges if she chooses to do so," Tess said softly.
"If she decides? Come on Tess, the guy ran her over," Adam objected.
"You can't decide for Yvonne what she does," Tess said.
"I know, but come on, the right thing to do may not be the easiest, but it doesn't change that it is right," Adam said.
Monica nodded. "Tess, I really have to agree with Adam on this one."
The eldest of the three angels nodded. "Chances are, you're right, you two, now we have to get going. Monica, your assignment is getting further and further out of reach, I think you need to go and have a little chat with him."
The young auburn headed angel nodded and she disappeared.
As soon as her younger charge was gone, Tess went over to Adam and wrapped her arms around him. "The Father is proud of you, Angel Boy."
"I failed, Tess."
"No you didn't, a failure is when you don't try, or when you go against what your conscience tells you, but Adam you didn't fail. You haven't done casework in a long time, and one thing you need to realize is that humans will choose to listen or not, and if they don't, it does not mean that the angel assigned to the case has failed. You see what I'm saying, baby?"
Adam smiled and nodded. "I see."
"Good, now then where were we?"
"Well, Joshua knows that the car is registered to Brad, and that he is Terry's brother," Adam said as he began to ruffle with the papers that were on the table in front of him. "Should we put a warrant out?"
"Wait a day," Tess said. "I have spoken to Brad, and maybe he will do the right thing and turn himself in. If he hasn't come forward by tomorrow, then we'll have a judge sign the warrant."
Adam nodded and when he looked up, he noticed that Tess was now wearing a matching police uniform, and he smiled at her. "You're my backup aren't you?"
"That's right, now, come along Angel Boy, it's time for our coffee break, and I really do need a cup of coffee."
Adam smiled and with the files in hand, the two angels left the small conference room.
Outside the police department, Joshua was walking alone back in the direction of the town. Brad Johnson, Terry Johnson, the two names seemed to be running rampant through his mind, their cadence like a drum beating in his conscience in four-quarter time.
"Joshua?" A voice called out and he turned around to see Monica coming towards him.
"You're back?" he said as he crossed himself and looked into the warm brown eyes of the angel.
"You don't have to do that," she said smiling gently at him as she reached for both his hands and held them in her own as he tried to get his breathing back in sync.
After a few moments of silence, he looked at her. "You know what happened back there at the police station, don't you? You know what I found out."
"Yes," she said gently. "You're not at fault for what happened Joshua. You were an innocent victim of unwarranted hate, nothing more."
"I'm a priest, Monica. I took my vows less than a year ago, I wanted to serve God…"
"…And you have, you have done so much for this community, Joshua. In the short time you have been here, you have provided, through your parish, a loving environment for the homeless, you have shared God's love through your words and your faith. Don't lose your faith now; you need it now more than ever before. God knows the truth, He is the master of truth, and He is proud of what you have done over the course of the last two days."
"What have I done?" He asked weakly.
"You have given a young, frightened, woman a sense of family, a sense that she lost when she was a wee girl of 12 years," Monica released his hands and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There is no one who can fill your shoes, Joshua."
"Andrew's with her," he said. "Why does she need me?"
"She needs human contact, she cannot live with her only friend being an angel. She needs the support and love of a human being. Andrew won't always be there for her, he knows that, and she knows that as well, but when he goes, and he will, then Yvonne will need someone who will stay, and the Father has chosen you," Monica said gently.
"But, why me?" He asked. "I'm the one who put her in the hospital in the first place."
"No you didn't, ignorance put her there, a man's deeply rooted pain and hate put her there, but you didn't. You gave her an uncanny opportunity to release her own hate and prejudices. This isn't her punishment for having them, but if there is to be anything beautiful to emerge from this tragedy, then let it be the knowledge that one young woman has overcome the stereotyping that has taken hold of an entire community."
"It's a high price to pay," he said sadly.
"Yes, it is, but it is a price that Yvonne free-willingly took," Monica said softly.
"Is that why God sent you?" He asked weakly.
"God has sent angels throughout history to tell His children that He is within reach, that He is there if only they will reach out to Him and accept His everlasting love. An angel is not the link between humanity and their creator, an angel merely is sent as a reminder to you that God is listening, that He loves you, and wants to be a part of your life."
Joshua nodded as though he understood, but he could feel the tears streaming from beneath his eyes. "What should I say to Yvonne?"
"Tell her the truth," Monica said gently.
"The truth, but I don't even know what the truth is anymore. I don't know if she's just another person that I have met since starting here or if I am even worthy of her friendship," he shook his head.
"You were asking only yesterday if you were really her friend and now you're asking if you are worthy of her friendship," Monica said gently as they found a bench, they both sat down, and once they were comfortable, she looked at him. "The answer to both of your questions is 'yes'. Yes, you are her friend. You talked to her when she woke up, you were there for her and you pledged a vow to her. What you said yesterday is not so different from the one that you pledged to God; which said that you would be there for her and help her through whatever obstacles she may face. You are her friend, and you are worthy of such a friendship as this. If you were not, then do you think that God would have put you both in the same place at the same time? Your meeting Yvonne Hudson was no accident, Joshua, there is really no such thing as an accident."
He nodded numbly as he took in the words she was telling him. "Monica, what does God want me to do?"
"You don't need to ask me, ask Him, He's always going to be there for you, and He is pleased with what you have done with your life. He knows that this is hard, but I can promise you that He will help you through it, and the results of this will not only make you a better man, but it will make you a stronger one as well."
Joshua nodded, "You're not going to leave now, are you?"
"You're never alone, and even after an angel has departed it does not mean that you are disconnected from the Father, because you are not, you will always have a connection with Him, but it is always going to be your choice."
He looked at her. "I don't know what to say."
Monica smiled as she reached over and touched his shoulder once again. "Sometimes words get in the way of the emotions of the heart. God knows what you want to say, and when the time is right, you will know."
"Thank you," he said softly.
She smiled as he got up and walked back in the direction of the hospital. Once he was gone, she stood up and glanced skyward. "Thank you, Father for giving the right words to say."
In response to her words, she watched as a white dove flew away and she smiled. There was still work to do on this case, but now she had fulfilled her part, and she knew that her angelic friends still had their work cut out for them."
-*-*-*-*-
Yvonne woke up later that morning and rubbed her eyes as she looked around. When she saw Andrew seated by her bed, she smiled weakly. "Good morning," she offered weakly all the while trying to stifle a yawn.
"Hello Yvonne," he smiled at her. "How did you sleep?"
"I dreamt that I was walking with you, Adam, and Danielle along a really pretty stream," she said smiling weakly as she tried to sit up in the bed. With his help, she managed and continued speaking once she was comfortable. "I remembered this place vividly. When my parents were still married and my dad hadn't left, we would go there and walk around through caverns and other places. It was such a beautiful place. As a little girl I would explore the caverns, as though I had no fear of anything."
"Sounds very nice," he said.
"It's a dream," she whispered. "Everything seems like a dream."
"Why do you say that?" Andrew asked.
"I don't know, look at me, I'm a cripple now," she whispered.
He shook his head as he looked earnestly at her. "You're not, but I know that it's hard, what has happened to you. I remember standing there and watching you. You were walking towards Joshua, you wanted to try and rectify things with him."
"I did it because…" her voice trailed off and she looked at him.
"…Because?"
"I wanted you to be proud of me, or at least show that Danielle isn't the only one of us who is brave," she said.
"I am proud of you and God is proud of you. You see, what you did to many would be a sign of bravery. It would be a sign of courage, that what you have done was that you saved the life of another, all the while sacrificing yourself for them. Many people around you would say 'there goes Yvonne Hudson', she's a hero, but do you know something?"
"No, what?" She whispered.
"They would have said it seven years ago," Andrew said as he smiled at the young woman in the bed.
"You're serious, aren't you?" She asked weakly.
"Yes, I am. You inspired a lot of people to look at their own level of courage, you and you alone," Andrew said gently.
"But, it was because you were there," she whispered.
Andrew shook his head as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Yvonne, one thing I have discovered about you is to what extent you are willing to give those good qualities that I see in you over to someone else. You said that seven years ago happened because of me." He shook his head. "No, what happened, happened because you finally said, enough is enough. You strived to find your closure as well as acknowledge your own sense of strength. Every day, people depend on one another to help each other and to be there for each other. You are not less qualified to be there for someone else than Danielle Jensen was for you seven years ago, or Joshua Owens is for you today."
"It's hard," she whispered. "Why is it so hard, Andrew?"
"Because you have failed to see the difference you can make on other people. You don't have to look beyond yourself to see the good, or the beauty that you are, you just have to accept it, that it's there. Other people may say that it is not, but listen to the voice of the Father that says that it is."
Yvonne looked at him as the tears caught in her eyes. "Andrew, can I ask you something else?"
"You can ask me anything you want."
"Am I ever going to walk again?"
"I don't know, if you get through the physical therapy, I think you will," he said softly.
"I'm so scared, I mean; I guess you know that though," she said looking down at her lap.
Andrew reached over and touched the side of her face that wasn't covered by the bandage. "I know."
Yvonne nodded as she closed her eyes and allowed her head to sink back against the pillow. "I'm still tired."
"Then rest," he smiled gently at her as the door opened and someone stuck their head inside the room.
Andrew looked up and could see that Brad Johnson was standing in the doorway. In his hand, he held a potted plant. He came over to the bed and although he didn't see the angel there, he lowered himself in a chair and looked down at her. After a few moments, her eyes wearily opened and she tried to focus on who was in the room.
"Joshua?" She whispered.
"No, my name is Brad Johnson, Yvonne," he said softly.
"Brad, I know that name, where have I heard it before?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Well, we sort of went to school together," he said softly.
"It seems like most people went to the same school, at least those who live around here," she said as she rubbed her face in her hands and tried to focus on him. When he remained silent, she lowered her hands and looked up at him. "What are you doing here?"
He shook his head. "I don't know, if I told you what happened to me this morning, you'd probably think I'm insane, but I came back to see how you were doing."
"I'm fine, well aside from not feeling my legs at all and having to start physical therapy this morning," she shrugged her shoulders.
Brad looked at her. "Yvonne, I used to tease you in school."
"I know, but kids do a lot of really stupid things when they're scared," she said.
"What makes you think I was scared?"
"Weren't you?" She challenged him.
"Maybe a little," he said softly as he looked around the room and although he could not see Andrew, he felt a strange sensation in this room. When he said nothing, Yvonne looked at him.
"Are you scared now?" She asked.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I have to tell you something and I don't know how to," he said as he looked down at her. "I read that story that was written about you seven years ago." Yvonne took a deep breath but before she could say anything, he continued. "I didn't know that you had been through so much."
"I didn't talk about it until later," she said.
"But, you talked about it, you didn't decide to end your life," he said.
"I thought about it," she said honestly. "Can you imagine contemplating suicide but I was more afraid of God than I was of if I had failed. It's weird, but I thought that God would hate me as much as I hated myself."
"You hated yourself?"
"Everyone else did, I guess I didn't like feeling as though I was in some sort of minority," she said with a wave of her hand.
"How could you say that about yourself?" Brad asked.
"Easy, when you hear it enough from everyone else, you start to believe it," Yvonne looked at him. "Now, just tell me why you're here."
"I heard that you were in the hospital and I thought I would come here and see how you're doing," he said as he stood up. "Anyway, I'm sorry about what happened."
"Thanks," she said softly.
"You're not mad about it?" He asked.
She looked at him. "I'm only sad because someone decided to take their anger out on someone they didn't understand. I'm sad that I have to go through physical therapy, and try to get back on my feet. I actually feel sorry for the person, who did this, and yes, I'm angry with them, but what good is my anger going to do? Tell me, will it bring back a boy who killed himself because he was sexually abused? No. Will it heal me from what I endured at school in the hands of you and your friends? No. Will anger bring me peace? No. I want to heal and move on with my life, I won't forget what happened to me, but I have a choice as to how I deal with it. I could bury it and later contemplate suicide, or I could tell people about it, and hope and pray that this travesty will not happen again. One cannot find healing by running someone over in a car."
Brad's face was streaked with tears as she finished speaking and he tried to wipe them away all the while trying to find his voice. "You're right."
"I need to sleep now, please, take care of yourself," she whispered as she rolled over and closed her eyes. As soon as she had fallen asleep, Brad stood up and looked down at her all the while shaking his head.
"I have never seen so much courage in my life," he said softly, but without saying another word, he quietly left the room.
Andrew looked down at his young friend as she slept once Brad had left the room. He glanced skyward and then looked down at her as he brushed a gentle hand against her face. When she opened her eyes a few moments later, she looked up at him. "He was the one who did this, Andrew."
The angel nodded. "How do you know?"
"I saw him, I remember just before he had hit me that he seemed almost fixated with Joshua. His eyes were filled with hate and animosity," she said. "You also mentioned this when we were together in that meadow. Whoever it was that had hit me was aiming for Joshua. It doesn't take a genius to determine that Brad had reason to go after a priest, he was angry because of what had happened to his brother."
"You're amazing, many would have gotten angry, but you didn't, why?" Andrew asked.
"What would anger have accomplished? I mean, I could have gotten angry, but that would not have made a difference." She looked around the room as the physical therapist walked into the room.
"Are you ready to get started, Miss Hudson?" The therapist asked.
"No, I'm still waiting for my friend to get here, he's supposed to help me."
"I'll help you until Joshua gets here," Andrew said gently, and when she looked up, she could see that the angel was dressed in a pressed white tunic and green colored pants. He was now an orderly and she smiled as she looked up at him, but all the while she wondered where on earth Joshua could be.
-*-*-*-*-
Once Brad had left the hospital, he went and got into his car. Behind the wheel he sat staring over the dashboard at the building he had just exited. His mind was still reeling from the events that had taken place in the hospital room. He shook his head as he started the car and eventually drove out of the parking lot and in the direction of the police precinct.
When he finally pulled up to the second building, he parked the car and looked up to see that Tess was now standing in front of his car, her kind eyes filled with empathy as she regarded him.
He opened the door and crawled out of the car. "Tess, I…"
"I know, baby," the wise angel said as she came over to him and wrapped her arms around him.
"S-she knows, doesn't she?" He asked weakly as Tess brushed her hand gently through his hair.
"Yes, Brad, she knows that you were the one driving the car," she said softly.
"I don't get it, why didn't she get angry? I mean; she will have to go through physical therapy for a long time, and it's because I got mad," he said softly.
"Yvonne told you the truth Brad," Tess said gently. "She told you that anger expressed in a destructive way will reap no benefits for anyone, not for you, for her or for Joshua Owens."
"Who?"
"Me," a voice emerged and they both turned around to see that Joshua was still present, and he regarded both Tess and Brad through sorrow-filled eyes. "My name is Father Joshua Owens, I am Yvonne Hudson's friend, and yes, I am a priest."
"Get away from me," Brad shouted angrily.
Joshua shook his head. "You respond to me in the same way you thought Yvonne would respond to you."
Tess nodded as she looked at Brad. "You should listen to him, he speak the truth, Brad. Look beyond what he is and listen to the words of wisdom that are emanating in his words."
Joshua looked at Brad. "I can understand why you're angry, Brad."
"You couldn't possibly," he sneered.
"Yes, he could," a second voice emerged and Joshua turned to see that Jess was now standing not far away.
"Jess?" Joshua looked at her with complete surprise etched on her face. "How did you know we were here?"
"An officer Adam called my house this morning and said that you were in need of a little back-up," Jess said shrugging her shoulders. "I didn't believe him at first, but he told me about what happened two days ago, how you were nearly killed in the hands of this maniac."
"Wait a minute," Brad objected. "I'm not a maniac."
"You're not?" Jess looked at him. "You want to know about Joshua Owens and the kind of person he is? Well, then shut up and listen to me, because if you think that this is easy for me to talk about, you're wrong."
Brad quieted as Jess began her story.
"My older brother, Bill, is Joshua's best friend. We grew up in a single parent home, and our mom did everything she could to make things easier for us. But, what she couldn't do for us; Joshua and his parents did more than make up for that. Joshua became an older brother to me, and when my brother went away to join the Marines, he sort of became the stand in older brother. I was a freshman in high school. I joined the choir and started dating a guy named Geoff. He started beating me up after our first date. I couldn't talk to my mom because she was always working, and Bill was gone. Geoff went crazy one night, and he left me on the street in the middle of nowhere. It was cold out that night, and I was scared to go home. I had been beaten black and blue by Geoff, and was completely scared."
"What did you do, baby?" Tess asked.
"I found a pay phone, and used my last quarter to call Joshua because I needed help," Jess said sadly. "He told me to go into the nearby restaurant and that I should have the people there call him to verify that he would be come and pick me up, but that he would come and pay for me to have some dinner and a cup of tea," Jess could feel the tears in her eyes. "I did as he said and went into the restaurant. The people gave me a table and brought me dinner, and within an hour of talking to Joshua, he was there, and I thought, my God, I was never as happy as I was the moment he walked through that door. I threw my arms around him when I saw him and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. I was cold and scared, and I didn't want to go back home."
Jess looked at Joshua. "You saved my life that night."
"I don't know about that Jess, you're my friend, I couldn't have done otherwise," Joshua said.
"Finish telling your story, baby," Tess cajoled her gently and she nodded.
"When I got back into town, I told Geoff that the relationship was over and that I never wanted to see him again. This didn't go over well with him, he…" Jess' eyes filled with tears as she tried to find her voice, but shook her head unable to go on.
"He raped her," Joshua said softly as he wrapped his friend in his arms and could feel the hot tears of his friend on his black tunic.
Brad's face was pale as Joshua finished the story. "Jess called me a few hours after it happened, and she was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I had been thinking about going into the priesthood for a number of years, but when I got that phone call, everything seemed to stand still. Jess was hurting and I knew that the only way I could help her find closure would be for us to come here and file a report with the police."
Jess wiped the tears from her eyes. "You stereotype him because he's a priest, but priests have families, maybe not wives or children, but they have brothers, or sisters and parents. They are individuals who made a choice to follow God and not all priests are going to be pedophiles," she paused allowing her words to sink in. "I know that you're Terry Johnson's brother, and I know that abuse is abuse and it should not matter what kind it is, or how often it happens; it is something that should not be happening to children or anyone, for that matter. It has to be stopped, but you cannot stop sexual abuse by getting behind the wheel of a car and trying to run someone down for that which they did not do. Using this as a grounds to hate is just as wrong as abusing someone like Geoff did with me, or that priest did with Terry, or Rick Watson did with Yvonne Hudson."
Brad looked at Tess. "You were right."
Tess nodded as the despondent youth went towards the door to the station and Tess followed.
Once they were alone, Jess looked at Joshua through her tears. "I guess I'd better get going, I still have to run some errands."
"Thank you, Jess," Joshua said.
"No problem, oh and Joshua, you always wondered if there was someone with me that night when Geoff freaked out, there was someone," Jess said smiling. "His name was Andrew."
"Andrew?" Joshua's face registered shock. "Is he, by chance a tall guy with blonde hair and green eyes?"
"Mm-hum," Jess said. "He helped me find the restaurant that night and gave me a quarter to make that call."
"Amazing," Joshua said smiling weakly.
"No, he was a miracle, and you are too," she said softly. "I'll see you later."
Once she was gone, Joshua smiled as he glanced skyward. "Thank you, Father," he whispered as he left the police station for the last time and rushed quickly down the street in the direction of the hospital.
-*-*-*-*-
Inside the station, Brad approached the desk and tapped on the glass only to see it slide away and he was once again looking at Adam.
"Hi, my name is Brad Johnson, and there's something I have to do here," he began, his voice filled with uncertainty.
Instead of speaking, Adam came from behind the desk and when he reached the young man, he smiled weakly at him. "You are here to turn yourself in?"
Brad nodded. "I guess so, I'm scared of what will happen, but it was the right thing to do, I mean, not two days ago, but right now."
Adam nodded as he put a comforting arm around Brad's shoulder. "I know what you mean," he said gently. "You know that you made a mistake, and now you have to make peace with that mistake, Brad. Why did you do it?"
Brad could feel the tears streaming from beneath his eyes. "I-I don't know."
Adam squeezed his shoulder. "You know, you did it because you wanted to stop hurting. Terry's death affected you as profoundly as it did me."
"You, but you're a cop, how could it have affected you?" Brad asked.
Without speaking, Adam began to glow, his beige suit suddenly replaced the police uniform, and he regarded the young man with empathy and kindness.
"You're an angel, like Tess?" Brad asked.
Adam responded by shaking his head. "I am not exactly an angel like Tess, I have another job, I am an Angel of Death and I was with your brother when he died. I was sent to take Terry to Heaven the night he chose to end his life." He paused, and taking a deep breath, he continued. "I was sent back after this event to tell you that your brother is no longer in pain, but I know that you are, and I know that his passing is hard for you, but you have to understand that he made this choice."
"I know he did, but I wanted to help him," Brad said softly.
"I know you did, and many people who survive abuse are amazing individuals, they go beyond what the past dictates, they don't forget, but they find the courage within to continue. Yvonne did this when she looked at you and found healing rather than hate. She could have hated you, she could have been angry, but she wasn't. She could have fought hate with hate, but she didn't. Today, though she hurts, she found the courage to push her perceived enemy out from in front of a car."
"Why didn't Terry?" Brad asked weakly.
"He didn't know that God was weeping for him. He didn't know that the Father of us all was there with him through every bump in the road. God was present during Terry's ordeal, and He does care. God does not ordain abuse, Brad."
"But why didn't He stop it?"
"Because He gave humanity a free will, and if he did stop what had happened, he would have taken back that gift," Adam said softly.
"I hate Him," Brad began to cry.
"No, you don't, you hate what happened, you hate that you hurt so much that you had to get behind the wheel of the car in order to suppress the hurt you carried," Adam took a deep breath. "You didn't know that God was watching over you, that He had sent angels to guide you after you made a choice. God has been with you every step of the way. He loves you, Brad, He cares for your brother, but He also cares for those misguided souls who chose to harm children rather than protect them."
As Adam finished speaking, Brad's face was streaked with tears, and he looked up. "What should I do?"
"Forgive yourself, and ask the Father to help you heal," Adam said gently.
Three weeks of daily routines of strenuous exercise, Yvonne was told that she would be ready to return home by the end of the week. She had started to get the feeling back in her legs, but she was still overwhelmingly tired from all the work. Hearing that she would be able to go home came as a great relief to her, but she was concerned as to how she would get along completely on her own.
In part, the young woman was anxious for this moment, but she pondered how she would be able to cope with being on her own while Joshua had to get on with his own life. He had brought his friend, Jess by the hospital earlier that week and Yvonne found a new kinship with the young woman, something she had not known of since she had met and become friends with Danielle seven years ago.
"Yvonne?" A voice emerged and she looked up to see that Andrew was standing in the room.
"Are you leaving now?" She asked. She had waited for this day since Joshua had told her that Brad had gone and turned himself in, but all the same, she still dreaded this impending moment.
"Yes, I have been told that it is time for me to move on," he said as he came over and sat down on the bed.
"I'll miss you," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around him and held tightly to him. As she held him, Adam appeared in the room and came over to the bed.
Andrew smiled weakly as Adam rested a hand on her shoulder and she looked up and into his shining gray eyes. "You remember Adam, don't you?"
Yvonne nodded. "I remember you, how's Danielle?"
"She's happy, Yvonne," he said gently. "She wants you to know that she is really glad to see that you're doing so well."
"I always admired her strength. I didn't know I had any of my own."
"And now?" Adam asked.
"I know I do," she smiled as she embraced both angels. "I have a place where I belong."
"Yes, you do," Andrew said smiling.
"You going to check in now and again, Andrew?" She asked.
"You never know," he said smiling, as he touched her now un-bandaged face.
She nodded as he withdrew his hand and within seconds, the two angels were gone and she could see a flock of doves standing at her windowsill. The words, 'I'm moving on', filtered through her mind and she smiled brightly and nodded. Now she understood the significant words to the song Andrew had shared with her the morning he had returned.
As the beautiful white birds flew away, she turned back to see that Joshua and Jess had come into the room and she nodded. Things were going to be OK now, she thought as she turned away from the window and looked into the eyes of her friends.
The End…
As with any piece of fan fiction, this story is not written to infringe on any previously held copyrights. That includes any and all persons responsible for bringing us ‘Touched By an Angel’ as well as through the mention of the Rascal Flatts song, 'I'm Moving On’.
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