they wouldn’t have time to talk to you. You would have missed what they had to say.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense! You should be a professional dream interpreter.”
Nodding in agreement Malaya went on, “Okay, so what did they tell you again?”
“Um, they told me that they loved me and to be strong. I’m guessing maybe the being strong part was mostly about my leg.” It had been almost a year since the car accident that had taken her mother away from her. She had survived, but she hadn’t come away unscathed. Both her legs had been broken. Her right leg had escaped with a hairline fracture that healed fairly quickly and the cast was off in seven weeks. Her left leg was not as fortunate. Part of her shin bone had been crushed, and it was taking a long time to heal. The doctor had said this type of break would take a long time, but it seemed an eternity had already gone by, and she was more than ready to get her cast off and start physical therapy.
“Oh, and he said that it wouldn’t be long before something. They didn’t say what. They just said it wouldn’t be long.”
Malaya pondered for a minute over a carrot stick.
“They must mean before you can walk again. That has to be it. You’ll probably get your cast off soon. There isn’t really any other option.”
But there was.
Chapter 3
The next day Lily found herself in a dreary waiting room. Today was the day Dr. Wong would either make the rest of her day the best day ever, or ruin it entirely. If she was doomed to this cast any longer, she firmly believed she would go insane and that her aunt would ship her off to an asylum for the rest of her cast ridden days. This was not a favorable option. As Lily was mulling over her brutal cast situation, she came across an article called, “NDE Gifts: Psychic or Psycho?” Anything with the word psycho in it had to be somewhat interesting, right? She didn’t get far before the matronly nurse called her name.
“Lillian Harrison? Please follow me to room five.”
The door had hardly swung shut behind her when it opened again. This time a short man with wire frame glasses poked his head in. Dr. Wong was always very friendly, and very prompt.
“That was quick”, Aunt Jenny commented.
“You are most important patient today,” Dr. Wong responded with a strong Asian accent.
Jenny raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Lily figured that he must say that to all his patients, but it seemed to her that he actually meant it.
***
Later that afternoon, Lily sat in her wheelchair on the backyard porch. She listened as the wind picked up the tune of the silvery wind chimes from next door. She was a little discouraged when Dr. Wong had said she would need to remain in the cast another week, but on the other hand, she would only be in the cast another week! Throw in a little physical therapy and she would be twirling on the dance floor for homecoming! Thinking she was alone, she did a little happy chair dance at the very thought of being free again. Then she heard a snap. She twisted her head around as far as it would go, but she saw nothing but the weeping willow swaying in the cooling breeze. She thought she might have seen movement behind the worn wooden fence, but it was hard to tell.
“Hello?”
No one answered. It must have been a stray dog. She held still and listened for another minute before deciding to go indoors. Inside the house, Ruthie and Jackson were playing their favorite card game, Spludge. Jackson had invented it for a school project and it had turned into a regular family game option. It was a mix of a couple different card games. At the end of the game the winner was entitled to “spludge” the losers with chocolate pudding. It was a messy game that had been quarantined to the back yard. However, her two cousins were taking their chances on the kitchen floor.
“You better have this kitchen spotless by the time your mom gets home from work,” Lily said as sternly as she could muster.
“We will,” said Ruthie, “we aren’t four, you know!”
Ruthie was only seven, but she may as well have been thirteen. That attitude was sure going to cause Aunt Jenny a barrel full of grief.
“Oh, and you need to be