Inside a train to Massachusetts, Wayne went over his life. He then realized that, he did not have a getaway from campus for over a long time. Though he had to return early the next morning, he knew that the hours away from college will be good for him.
In that solace, he could also meditate on the entry of God in his life. For once, he thought of organizing it. After all, there was another person who would be responsible (at least for the next two weeks) for his progress or downfall; this God that is in the Bible.
He thought of praying and following the Word for the following fourteen days. He thought that, it might not be that hard given that, he already experienced relief to have someone to cry to.
At that time he recalled Vicky’s afternoon statement. “Ask can Biblically mean pray. Pray to God before doing anything.”
So, he shut his eyes for some seconds and murmured. “Father who is in heaven, please forgive my sins. I am on my way to Boston to visit Sasha. Please help that, everything work alright. Thanks Jesus, Amen.” He concluded and opened his eyes. Now, if anything wrong happened he would just say; I told God so, if He wasn’t as big as the Bible or Vicky magnified Him to be then, Wayne would know.
He in turn arrived earlier than he expected. He took a taxi to the General Hospital and surprisingly, there wasn’t any traffic jam to his destination.
Wayne agreed that, he was amazed. He recalled the last time that he went there, the train had an engine failure and the rest of the journey was a total disaster. He could not get anything for Sasha and she could not even see him.
This time, he arrived the reception desk with a bag of fruit juice and some cakes. He asked the nurse to see the leukemia patient in the seventh floor of the hospital building.
“She’s under sedation.” The black reception nurse informed.
Wayne nodded. “Can I still see her?”
“Visiting hours are over sir. Unless you are,” she begun before checking a file on her desk. “Astrophe Harts.”
He nodded joyfully. “Yes that’s me.”
She raised an inquisitive eyebrow and then bent down to pick out a ‘Visitors’ ID which she passed to him. “Okay. I hope you know the room.”
“Fifty four, right?”
The nurse nodded.
He smiled. “Thanks. God bless you.” he found the words escaping his mouth and then left, without awaiting the nurse’s reaction.
He came to the floor and stopped outside the door where Sasha was being confined.
At the room threshold, he shut his eyes again and prayed for God’s intervention.
Then, he pushed the door open and walked in, revealing a large hospital room with the bed at the end of it. The bed was connected to a bunch of machines, one that monitored the heartbeat and the others that controlled various biologic processes from a drip that was connected to the lady lying on the bed.
Sasha was a half-caste of African-American with a narrow face and a slim body. She had a cap covering her head which Wayne also expected to have gone bald.
The last time he was there, and could see her, Sasha’s hair was falling off.
That was more than eight months past. It all would have already gone by now.
He sighed first and walked forward, into the room. He relinquished the bags on a metal table on an opposite end of the same room and approached Sasha on the bed.
She was fast asleep and very pale to look at. He pulled a metal seat from behind the table and sat next to where Sasha’s head was.
“I hate seeing you like this.” He begun, looking at her cheerless face. He sighed again and glanced at her palm that was connected to a drip that fed her body with the necessary nutrients and medicine.
He carefully drew the palm close to himself and clutch it. “If God you can really heal, please heal this girl who is more righteous than me.” He prayed loudly. “Can you heal her for me, please?” he asked.
There was silence and he sighed.
This is what faith is all about. He thought in his heart. And this faith is the one that heals. He continued to think. Am I supposed to be charmed with that thought? That asking from a God I cannot hear or see, can actually heal her? He wondered, in contrast to the first thought.
Open your Bible. A thought came to his mind.
He furrowed his eyebrows. Why? He asked himself.
Open your Bible. The thought repeated itself. A thought, or at least that was what he thought but, it was more like a still small voice.
He shrugged and replaced Sasha’s hand, rising to fetch Vicky’s Bible gift from one of the bags he placed on the metal table.
He sat with it beside Sasha and opened the pages randomly, looking for John or any other familiar book of the Bible.
His efforts landed him to one big 11 below smaller words written;
HEBREWS
He glanced at the first verse and read silently; “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things yet unseen.”
He raised his eyebrows after that and reread the verse.
Faith is all about believing in all that you cannot see. The first thought came to him. Including God and the Word itself. The thought went on. Faith is having the attitude of seeing things which aren’t yet, as things which already are, including the healing of Sasha and that of your mother.
He gulped. Was he actually thinking that?
But, my mother is already dead. He told himself.
You haven’t confirmed that. The thought replied.
You don’t mean to tell me that, I should believe that my mother is still alive and that, Sasha is going to be healed? He asked himself.
Why don’t you pray for it? The thought asked instead.
He narrowed his eyes, considering the thought. Can I? How?
Begin and I will lead you through it. The thought offered.
He grunted. Now?
Yes.
He took a moment and shut his eyes. “Our father who is in heaven, please forgive my sins. Please heal my mother and Sasha.” He begun and sighed. “The Bible tells me that, you are a powerful being. I would like to see how great you are to these two people that mean a lot to me.” He paused. “I read somewhere that…. That, because of his stripes, we are healed. So, Jesus was hurt so that we may be healed. I know that you were wounded not only for me and Vicky or her fellowship members alone, you were also crucified for Sasha and my mother and… Chris and my father. You have the purpose of making me know you and come to you and maybe it involves the healing of my family and Sasha. Please God, I would like to know that you are God and declare about you to all my friends and other people.
“I want to believe more in you; will you please, make me believe in you more than this? Will you please heal my mother and Sasha?
“Seeing her like this, I feel bad. My heart is just, is just,” he sighed, releasing a couple of tears. “Don’t you want us to be happy? Please heal my mother. Please heal Sasha. Please Jesus, I am asking you in front of the Bible because, this book has got a lot about you; it testifies about your greatness. May I see that greatness in real life? I can’t see you but, I was told that, your works in our lives are evident when we give you the chance to do the miracles. I would like a miracle from you Lord. Please heal my mother and Sasha.” He prayed.
He continued praying thus, until half an hour later when he felt that, he had already poured his whole heart to God. Right then, he felt relieved and concluded his prayers, opening his eyes.
He was back in his room and Sasha was lying just a feet from him. But, he looked at her with a smile on his face. He was sure that, God was going to heal her.
#
The next day, Wayne appeared in campus with a new decision in mind. He made it up after a peaceful sleep beside Sasha in Boston, Massachusetts.
He arrived Mr. Hurts’ office and knock at his door.
It immediately opened and Mr. Hurts appeared, carrying his bag and ready for his class with the 100.
Mr. Hurts immediately frowned. “Mr. Harts, if you are here to ask me for the leave, you ought to know that, your favor has expired.”
Wayne swallowed and nodded. “I am not here for that sir, at least not yet.”
Mr. Hurts narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”
Wayne took in a deep breath, steeling himself to respond, “I am asking for a second chance to rewrite the assignment. I am asking on behalf of my group. Please?”
“Mr. Harts, it doesn’t work that way. What’s done is done. You just have to pull up your socks and lay in more effort to meet your expected GPA.”
“Mr. Hurts I am begging you.”
“No. Other students will do the same and my class will turn into an academic circus.”
“Mr. Hurts, you know that, our group is... well, the least in performance among all the groups of your class. And by being so, we have stained your prestigious reputation as the leading instructor in Ortegun. If you give us the chance; give me the chance, we are going to rectify that and raise the praise of class 100 back to the top.”
Mr. Hurts took some time, probably considering Wayne’s argument. “Why should I believe that you will make it and not waste my time?”
“Because, I want to do all my best so that, I can show my mom my good grades before,” he sighed, “before she dies.”
“Is this some kind of story to make me give you another leave?”
“If I don’t pass, Mr. Hurts, I’ll have no reason to see her.”
Mr. Hurts was silent for a few seconds. “Okay. Since, we both have to earn from this agreement,” he paused. “I will withdraw your marks from here," he said, tapping the bag in his hand.
He begun to turn back into the office.
Wayne followed him. “You were going to post them?” He asked.
Mr. Hurts took out a laptop from his bag. “Send them to the DFL actually. Now, I will have to write a letter of pardon for delaying my presentation.”
The DFL was the Dean Faculty of Law. Mr. Hurts' boss.
Wayne was silent.
Mr. Hurts opened the pc and glanced at Wayne. “If you don’t pass, Astrophe, I’ll not only make sure that you fail, I will personally make you pay for cheating me.”
Wayne gulped and weakly added, “I will do my best.”
“That is not all that is required.” Mr. Hurts replied, switching on his computer. He took out a flash drive from his bag. “You have to do the best, not just your best.”
Wayne nodded.
Mr. Hurts tapped on his keyboard in silence.
Wayne quietly prayed to God that he had made the right choice. Screwing up was not an option.
“Alright," Mr. Hurts said, breaking the silence. He closed his laptop. “You have this week to write a new report. Assessment will be next Friday and, you will have your results and probably leave on the Saturday that follows.”
Two weeks.
“Thank you sir.” Wayne said.
“Tell me that when I grant you the leave.” Mr. Hurts replied coldly and said, “Okay, get out of my office.”
Wayne turned around and left.
#
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