“Really,
Gab. She spoke to me, like, normally –
”
“So,
you’re the rainbow, now? Maybe I shouldn’t call you heartthrob anymore.”
Tristan
rolled his eyes, “Whatever, she still spoke to me. I mean – wow, how do I say
this – how many patients do we have right now that can even talk properly?”
“Hmm.
‘Bout ten percent?” Gabriel estimated.
“Exactly!”
exclaimed his friend. He was pacing back and forth inside his friend’s office
with a glass of champagne in hand, but he never took a sip. He was too busy and
excited to relay the happenings of the day to him to take notice of other things.
Right
after Reeya had gone to sleep – she used his
blankets – Tristan almost flew to Gabriel’s office. Needless to say, the
adrenaline from earlier hadn’t quite left him yet.
“And
then you said ‘thank you’? Of all the things in the world you could’ve said to
her, you said ‘thank you’?”
“What
was I supposed to do?” he said, slightly panicked. He stopped his pacing and
faced his friend, who was sitting behind his desk with a grin, “I was thunderstruck!
I didn’t know she was going to say anything.”
“Good
point.” he nodded slightly in response, “If I was there, I could’ve screamed
and bolted for the door right away.”
“Is
it just me or did I detect sarcasm?”
Gabriel
smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “Just you, rainbow.”
Tristan
chuckled at the word and finally took a sip of the amber liquid in his hands. “I
supposed I should be thankful that my cooking skills are down to zero or she
wouldn’t have seen the bandages.”
“I
would’ve to agree with that. You and cooking don’t really go hand in hand in
one sentence.”
Tristan
finally laughed and said, “You know, you’re the only one who can throw insult
after insult at me and can get away with it.”
“Well,
I’m honored.” Gabriel drained his glass and Tristan did the same. Tristan
should’ve been home more than an hour ago and catching up on his sleep, and
when Gabriel pointed this out, he had no objections. Gab had him out of the room
and into his car in no time.
While
he was driving, he thought some midnight snack would complete his perfect day,
and he drove by a convenience store not far from his home. He was walking back
to where he parked his car with a bag of biscuits and cookies in hand when he
heard it;
“Draw me to Your throne room; You
are my Strength and High Tower
Draw me to Your throne room; I’m
in need of you power…”
Tristan
stopped in his tracks and his head instantly turned right.
A
church. It was right there. How couldn’t he have seen it?
“‘Scuse
me.” A man behind him said. He pivoted, and then realized he was blocking the
entire way.
“Oh,
sorry.” Immediately, he moved to the side, and went closer to the entrance of
the church. The choir was having their practice, it seems, and there weren’t a
lot of people inside. A few clumps here and there, and some people are all by
themselves.
Tristan
had never been really, overly religious, but he didn’t deny the existence of
the Higher Being. His faith isn’t just like other people’s – like Kate’s – which
are burning bright. His is more like a calm candlelight, but it’s there nevertheless.
The choir’s angelic voices were luring him in and he was reminded of Reeya’s
similar voice; angelic.
“For a day there is as thousand
years and each moment – like an hour;
Where mercy is a river and
blessings come in showers…”
He
suddenly smiled and shook his head slightly. With all his midnight snacks still
in hand, he went in and took his time in choosing a pew. Finally, he settled
with the one where people aren’t around much and sat by himself.
He
looked at the splendid altar, which probably cost a lot more than his whole
house put together and he crossed himself. He whispered words of prayer; words
of thanks for the miracles of the day, strength for the many more to come and
asked for guidance. He needed that most of all. He was barely aware of the fact
that in all of his prayers, he only had Reeya in mind. He didn’t even spare on
for himself.
When
he was finished, he didn’t leave just yet. He just sat there looking at the
statue of Christ in the center. He wasn’t nailed on the cross; the statue
portrayed the time when He rose on the third day.
Tristan was so consumed by his thoughts that he took
a few more moments to register that someone was tapping him on the shoulder. He
looked back and saw behind him an old man – in his seventies, most probably –
but he looked healthy as a horse. In a raspy voice, he asked him, “Lad, can you
tell me what time it is? I don’t have a watch on my, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, right.” Tristan responded a bit
awkwardly. He couldn’t recall being called a “lad” in a very long time. Well,
probably not that long. It just gives
him a nostalgic feeling.
“It’s quarter to ten.” he said to the
old man, who threw another question at him that took him by surprise.
“What are you praying for?”
Tristan’s brow creased. He wasn’t
really certain that he should disclose personal matters to a stranger, but a
voice seemed to whisper to him that no one with bad intentions was likely to go
inside the house of God.
“I’m praying for my friend.” He ended
his sentence with a warm smile and his worthwhile companion replied, “She
okay?”
“How did you know it was a ‘she’?”
Tristan responded a little bit sharply than he intended. He meant to take the
words back, but was surprised when the old man chuckled.
“Lad, you’re too suspicious of people,
aren’t you? You just looked a huge deal serious when you were praying over
there that I wondered.”
With a flush of embarrassment, he
replied hastily, “I’m sorry. I’m not really like this, that one just took me by
surprise.” He apologized yet again and the man’s chuckle ensued. Then he
inquired, “So, she okay?”
Tristan didn’t know how to answer.
“I’m helping her to be.”
“Hmm. Well, I’ll be damned. You need
Raphael for that.”
“Pardon?”
The old man looked at him with a
slight disbelief on his face, “What did they teach you in school? I meant
Archangel Raphael, the angel of healing. Heard of him?”
He haven’t.
“Err, not really.” he answered with a
feeling of dissatisfaction. The old man looked surprised.
“Oh. Right, well then. Go pray to him
for your lady friend. She’ll be up and about in no time, I hope. And give her
something green.”
“Something green?” Tristan asked,
mystified. Why would he give Reeya ‘something green’?
“Why, this is just weird. Green is the
color of healing, son. Didn’t you know that?”
“I know now.” he chuckled in reply.
He’d never felt more stupid than he did right now.
“That’s good. I need to be off now.
Wife is worrying and everything. Can’t let her worry about me again.” Before
the man can get up from his pew, Tristan said,
“Thanks a lot, Mr…?” he realized that
he didn’t even get his name.
“Raphael.” The old man’s eyes twinkled
as he smiled at the dumbfounded doctor. “You can call me Raphael.”
He stood up and left.
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