Book 3/Current wip
(Sequel to Danielle's Legacy)
St. Joseph's Hospital
The patient in the Mahogany, four-poster, birthing bed glanced around the colorful labor room she presently inhabited. It was downright homey and a vast contrast to those austere maternity rooms of days gone by. Delicate little rose and blue flower buds delicately danced across a pale yellow background; the wallpaper stretched around the entire room. White lace Priscilla curtains adorned the window, covering the Venetian blinds where the warm afternoon sun drifted lazily through its narrowed slits. Soft Brown leather chairs sat in each corner, beckoning a weary father, cajoling him to sink down into its plump cushions.
An opening door caught the expectant mother's attention and she watched in curious anticipation as a cloaked nun, shrouded in white, glided through the doorway and across the room, stopping alongside her bed.
"Hello, sister," the patient greeted her quietly, smiling. "You haven't come to the hospital all by yourself, have you?" the sister asked, an eyebrow cocked.
The young mother laughed softly; a gentle serenity seemed to envelop her totality. "Oh, my word no," she stated in her quiet, yet melodious voice. "My husband reluctantly ran down to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. He's been glued to that chair from the moment I climbed into bed," she added, waving at a brown leather recliner.
The sister furtively glanced around the room before she picked up the patient's hand and gave it a squeeze, speaking confidentially. "I have come with a message from the Divine Source," she announced lowly.
Smiling graciously, the patient replied, "How nice of you to come and pray for me sister."
The nun gazed into the woman's smooth, unlined face and shook her head, "No . . . no . . . you don't understand. This isn't about prayer. This comes in the form of sacred revelation."
A troubled expression creased the patient's brow, leaving her totally baffled. "Whatever do you mean?"
The nun moved to the top of the bed and bent her head in the direction of the patient's ear. "I had a special dream, the kind that I call a direct revelation from God."
Nodding, The patient prompted her to go on, a bit taken aback.
"When I took my vows, an angel came to me in a dream and said I would be receiving a total of ten holy revelations."
The lovely young mother became more alert, but confusion still reigned in her eyes. "Yes, and?" She encouraged the sister.
"I was told these revelations would always be revealed to me in my dreams, that I would recognize these messages as divine prophesy. I would also be guided instinctively as to what to do with them."
"I see," she managed to say before a heavy labor pain began to lumber across her pelvis region, prompting her to suck in fast, staccato-like breaths and then expel them just as rapidly.
The nun sensed the urgency and began her short, but explicit dissertation. "Listen to me, my dear, and tell no one of what I'm about to tell you."
The patient searched the devout woman's eyes and silently signaled for her to continue.
After drawing in a few deep breaths, the sister continued her amazing story. "The child you are about to give birth to is carrying the soul of an angel."
Absolute shock, and then perplexity flickered across the patient's face, now dotted with perspiration. "Why...Why... what do you mean?" she stuttered.
Glancing around surreptitiously once again, the nun reiterated her message. "You have been chosen to give birth to an angelic like being, and to be the sacred keeper of her soul until such time she decides to fly---so to speak---on her own."
The patient grimaced at the nun's double entendre, thinking silently, angel indeed...flying.
Sensing she had to conclude her visit, the nun hurried on to complete her communication. "What I say is true, my dear. Your daughter has been assigned great duties which will be of great benefit to humanity. You were chosen as parents because you are both devout, loving people of the Lord God, our father, and will provide the proper nourishing environment of love."
The lovely woman in the birthing bed stared long and hard at the nun before the tears began to glisten in her eyes, slowly slipping down her cheeks and onto her chin. "Surely, this can't be," she whispered emotionally, dabbing at the corner of her eyes.
"You will soon know that I have spoken the truth," she was told. "Also, your daughter, Angelique---I believe that is what you have chosen to call her---at age eighteen is to search out and find the Magician because together they will perform great services in the name of God for all of mankind.
Absolute astonishment crossed the patient's face and she wondered if there was anything about her life or her family of which the nun was not aware. "The Magician?" she echoed, still very bewildered.
The nun nodded a yes, adding, "When Angelique is about to graduate from high school, you must stress the extreme importance of finding the Magician. Explain to her that he is her one and only soul mate and together they are destined to do great things for each other and the world. Without each other the picture is incomplete, and multitudes could suffer without their intervention.. You may even have the clue to his identity."
Another severe labor pain seized the patient, and a moan escaped her lips. "Anything else?" she eked out.
"One more thing. Angelique is not to tell the Magician they are soul mates. For the plan to unfold, he must recognize her as his counterpart."
Pressing her lips to the woman's cheek, the sister reminded her again, very softly, to tell no-one of this conversation, not even her husband at that time. She could inform him at the same time that she informed her blessed daughter She was just straightening up when the patient's husband came striding through the door, an anxious expression written across his handsome features. He glanced at his wife before acknowledging the nun.
"Hello sister," he addressed her affably.
"Hello father," she responded, adding, "I see the Episcopalians are in good order with you in their ranks." .
"Likewise," the father-to-be chuckled.
After the reverent sister exited the room, robes swirling around her ankles, the patient's husband took her hand, asking casually, "Did the good sister drop in to query about your chosen denomination?"
The patient appeared preoccupied. "What?...oh, I guess so," she responded, lost in heavy contemplation. "Do we know any magicians, love?"
It was the father's turn to looked startled. "What?!
You're in very serious labor, giving birth to our daughter and you want to know about magicians? Did they give you some pain medication or something?"
She shook her head, saying a little groggily, "Remind me to ask my mother, or my sisters or someone in the family."
He indulged her. "Anything you say, my darling," he answered, getting in position to assist with the breathing process as the next wave of pain now ripped through his wife's body, leaving her face and torso soaked with heavy perspiration.
"I wonder if she meant someone like David Copperfield?" she uttered, almost inaudibly now.
"What, my love?"
"Nothing," she rasped, the labor pains now coming closer and closer together. The doctor finally appeared to assist with the delivery, as the expectant mother drifted in and out of a twilight consciousness.
This was her second child. The wondrous child, Angelique, would have an older brother, by two years, at home awaiting her arrival.
"Michel can help the baby find the Magician," the patient mumbled as she drifted into a hazy, disjointed mental state.
"What's she saying?" the doctor asked.
The father chuckled, saying, "Ignore it. . .delusions of magic."
"Life is magical, though, isn't it?" the doctor commented as he prepared to guide the baby's head out of the birth canal.
"Indeed it is!" the new father agreed.
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