The Bridge

67

Thunder rumbled. Dark clouds turned and twisted. Currents of stiff wind pushed and challenged strong trees to stay rooted, and jagged lightning cracked across the sullen sky.

Embers skittered violently from a waning fire and the horses whinnied loudly. They were restless, anxious, and frightened. Was it just the weather that had them spooked or was it something else out there in the dark that was causing them agony?

Then from inside the dark and ominous rolling clouds I saw a shimmering light, a dim shimmering spot of light on the horizon. It was coming closer and closer. The spot flickered as it got bigger. Then it came like a tornado, clearing the darkness, and suddenly it was bright.

It was a lantern, a ceiling lantern. I stared at it for a long moment, then looked slowly to my right.

Sun streamed through the thin lace curtains. There was an opening in the curtains and I could see glistening water dripping from the eaves.

I looked around the white spartan-styled room.

It was stark and sanitary, but it was warm. Above my head on the wall behind the bed was a small wooden cross. To my right, just beyond the window, was a framed printed painting of Jesus. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking to his right toward the window, toward the light. On the stand just left of the iron-framed bed I was lying on was an ivory-colored water pitcher and a single glass. I looked back out the window, watching the water dripping and the steam that was rising from it. I looked back to Jesus. Least I made it to a hospital.

“Bonjour,” she said.

I looked to my left toward the foot of the bed. There she was, Séraphine, standing in the doorway.

“Look who’s here,” I said.

She smiled.

“Bonjour back,” I said.

“Feeling better, I see,” she said.

“Oui,” I said.

She smiled and moved a little closer into the room.

“For some damn reason, I’m drifting in and out of sleep,” I said.

“Need your rest,” she said.

“Damn doc’s keeping me drifting,” I said. “Opiates.”

“Morpheus,” she said.

“The dreams and here,” I said, “mix.”

“I’m here,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” I said. “I can see that.”

She looked radiant in her long, pale blue dress. She slowly moved toward me.

“Matches your eyes,” I said.

She stepped close to the bed. She reached out and gently with her fingers touched the bandage around my chest.

“It’s good your heart is not on this side,” she said.

“What heart?” I said with a grin.

“A beautiful heart,” she said.

She leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m awake.”

She smiled.

“I’m not dreaming,” I said.

“I’m right here,” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

She moved a lock of hair that was hanging down in front of my eye.

“Time for a haircut,” I said.

She just looked at me and smiled warmly.

“I’ll be up soon,” I said. “Think I’m close to being ready.”

She smiled but didn’t say anything.

I looked to the window.

“Warming,” I said.

She followed my look to the window.

“Oui,” she said softly.

“That weather came on harsh,” I said.

“Oui,” she said.

“Thought March was the lion,” I said.

“Roared early,” she said.

“Damn sure did,” I said.

“It will make for a better spring,” she said.

“It will,” I said.

She took my hand and just looked at me.

“Are they setting up now,” I said, “readying the show?”

“Preparations are under way,” she said.

I laid back and looked to the ceiling. The lantern looked foggy and dim.

“Futures told,” I said.

“Oui,” she said. “Legendary adventures revealed.”