dreams.”
Chapter Seven
Sarah woke to the sound of moaning. Her own moaning. She looked around and realized she was sideways. In a car. Laying somehow. She jerked her head right and gasped in relief at seeing that woman. They’d gotten a ride with her.
“Oh thank God.” The lady gave a huge sigh of relief. “You both started to freak the hell out like somebody on hard drugs or LSD or something.” The woman glanced over her shoulder and Sarah managed to follow her gaze to a sleeping Micah on the backseat next to the boy, also fast asleep, upright with his head against a pillow.
Sarah moaned with the vicious throb in the left side of her body. She looked down shocked not to find a giant ax embedded in her shoulder. She’d been shot with an arrow.
“I nearly called the police, I’m not gonna lie. You can thank my son for talking me out of it.” Sarah was in too much pain to care about any of it. “He kept tellin me. Don’t call momma. He’s a good man. He’s okay, he’s a good man.”
A wave of agony gripped Sarah’s muscles and she fought to listen.
“ I says to him, ‘honey, how do you know he’s good?’ You know what he said to me?” Sarah waited, unable to lift her head or answer. “He said to me—big as you please—‘an angel told me.” A few seconds of punch line passed and the woman laughed. “And I say to him, ‘when? When did an angel tell you?’ He says, ‘I had a dream before we left. We gave a man a ride. I was scared. But an angel said not to be scared. He was good.’
The amazed finality of her words indicated the story was over, and utter relief washed over Sarah. It was a sign to her. She’d been worrying for the past few days if God was on their side still. She hated doubting but damn it was hard. “Thank God,” Sarah managed in one of her moans. She licked dry lips and thought about Micah. “He is good.”
“Well, all I know is, my boy is special. He has a gift of sight.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “A lot of people say he’s troubled but…” she shook her head with a proud confident smile before nearly mouthing, “he ain’t.” She continued to shake her head while muttering over and over, “he ain’t.”
It dawned on Sarah in that instant that she displayed signs of… denial. Shit.
It didn’t matter. Whether or not her or the child were troubled made no difference at this point. Staying alive was the main theme. And if that came by the hands of a troubled woman and her child, thank God for them.
The woman regarded her several times. “You need to get that arm looked at. I’m really on schedule believe it or not. To meet my husband, I mean. I called and told him I was gonna rest. He was glad, he didn’t like me driving the whole way. So, I was thinking I could stop at a hotel and you guys could get cleaned up. Does that work for you?”
Sarah’s body shook like a leaf now. What the fuck was wrong with her? “Sounds like a plan.”
“Ohhhh, honey, you sound like you’re in a lot of pain. I’ll get some aspirin for you when we stop.”
Aspirin. She needed one of her shots she gave to the mentally insane when they became run-away nuts.
Micah suddenly bolted up in the backseat, roaring for air like he’d been underwater a torturous amount of time. Sarah wanted to comfort him, talk to him, but she couldn’t move.
“Sarah!” He leaned over the seat and barely touched her shoulder. “ God, I need to get that out of you.” His rushed words made her whimper. She shook her head worried he’d do it right then. She couldn’t take that.
“We’re just minutes from a motel. My name is Nancy by the way.” She went on to explain to Micah her plan and why she was doing it, ending her story about her son in hushed whispers like before.
“Thank you,” Micah whispered in utter relief before turning to Sarah. “Hold on baby. I know it hurts.” He reached over the seat and held her hand tight. “The drugs are wearing off, that’s
Chapter Seven
Sarah woke to the sound of moaning. Her own moaning. She looked around and realized she was sideways. In a car. Laying somehow. She jerked her head right and gasped in relief at seeing that woman. They’d gotten a ride with her.
“Oh thank God.” The lady gave a huge sigh of relief. “You both started to freak the hell out like somebody on hard drugs or LSD or something.” The woman glanced over her shoulder and Sarah managed to follow her gaze to a sleeping Micah on the backseat next to the boy, also fast asleep, upright with his head against a pillow.
Sarah moaned with the vicious throb in the left side of her body. She looked down shocked not to find a giant ax embedded in her shoulder. She’d been shot with an arrow.
“I nearly called the police, I’m not gonna lie. You can thank my son for talking me out of it.” Sarah was in too much pain to care about any of it. “He kept tellin me. Don’t call momma. He’s a good man. He’s okay, he’s a good man.”
A wave of agony gripped Sarah’s muscles and she fought to listen.
“ I says to him, ‘honey, how do you know he’s good?’ You know what he said to me?” Sarah waited, unable to lift her head or answer. “He said to me—big as you please—‘an angel told me.” A few seconds of punch line passed and the woman laughed. “And I say to him, ‘when? When did an angel tell you?’ He says, ‘I had a dream before we left. We gave a man a ride. I was scared. But an angel said not to be scared. He was good.’
The amazed finality of her words indicated the story was over, and utter relief washed over Sarah. It was a sign to her. She’d been worrying for the past few days if God was on their side still. She hated doubting but damn it was hard. “Thank God,” Sarah managed in one of her moans. She licked dry lips and thought about Micah. “He is good.”
“Well, all I know is, my boy is special. He has a gift of sight.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “A lot of people say he’s troubled but…” she shook her head with a proud confident smile before nearly mouthing, “he ain’t.” She continued to shake her head while muttering over and over, “he ain’t.”
It dawned on Sarah in that instant that she displayed signs of… denial. Shit.
It didn’t matter. Whether or not her or the child were troubled made no difference at this point. Staying alive was the main theme. And if that came by the hands of a troubled woman and her child, thank God for them.
The woman regarded her several times. “You need to get that arm looked at. I’m really on schedule believe it or not. To meet my husband, I mean. I called and told him I was gonna rest. He was glad, he didn’t like me driving the whole way. So, I was thinking I could stop at a hotel and you guys could get cleaned up. Does that work for you?”
Sarah’s body shook like a leaf now. What the fuck was wrong with her? “Sounds like a plan.”
“Ohhhh, honey, you sound like you’re in a lot of pain. I’ll get some aspirin for you when we stop.”
Aspirin. She needed one of her shots she gave to the mentally insane when they became run-away nuts.
Micah suddenly bolted up in the backseat, roaring for air like he’d been underwater a torturous amount of time. Sarah wanted to comfort him, talk to him, but she couldn’t move.
“Sarah!” He leaned over the seat and barely touched her shoulder. “ God, I need to get that out of you.” His rushed words made her whimper. She shook her head worried he’d do it right then. She couldn’t take that.
“We’re just minutes from a motel. My name is Nancy by the way.” She went on to explain to Micah her plan and why she was doing it, ending her story about her son in hushed whispers like before.
“Thank you,” Micah whispered in utter relief before turning to Sarah. “Hold on baby. I know it hurts.” He reached over the seat and held her hand tight. “The drugs are wearing off, that’s
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