Healer
Written by CJ McKee Copyright 2007

Master Ravenwood – Present Day

“Oh gods, why can’t I get their thoughts outta my head?.”

He grimaced against the pain, neck veins distended and pulsing, his eyes watered from being squeezed so tight. His trembling hands covered his ears; as if he thought this would make a difference. His face felt hot and the humidity and dust in the room clogged his senses and made him cough. He fought to distinguish between the voices in his head, and the din that came from just outside his room.

Outside, the throng of people became more agitated and spiteful with each agonizing moment. The summer sun high in the sky fueled their pain and anguish. Body odor and loud voices permeated the air like an ocean fog over rotting fish. Mob mentality took over for rational thought and nothing else mattered – not even their illness. They pushed those in front further up the stairs, and threatened others who attempted to stand in line behind them. A man with two crutches fell to the floor, succumbing to the intense heat and anxiety in the building the smothered him like a snuffed candle flame.

“Master Ravenwood? I think we should leave for the day”.

What?

“The people outside are crowding into the lobby, and we don’t have enough staff to hold them back.” Silence. “Master?.”

Joe whipped his head in the direction of the young, robed man who quickly averted his eyes in respect. “Forgive me, Master, but order must be preserved.”

“You think,” started Joe Ravenwood as he stabbed his finger in the direction of the street, “That they will simply walk away?”

The young man bowed his head and shook it slowly and backed out of the doorway. “Very well. I will bring in the next patient.”

“They are not patients. I am not a doctor.”

The young man nodded quickly and held up his hand for forgiveness. He quickly retreated to the hallway and moved to the top of the stairs where twenty or so people crammed into the dimly light stairwell and gazed hopeful into the young man’s eyes. His voice echoed in the large hallway as he asked for the patience and order. A threatening voice rang out from the back of the line, but the young man ignored it. He reached for his clipboard and scanned the top sheet with a thin finger. He rubbed his right eye before squinting at the page again.

“Misses…Willington? Master Ravenwood will see you now.” He said looking up at the lady leading the line of people.

Mary Willington, a middle-aged woman and mother of one, came here in search of the answers to her mysterious illness; or the cure. For the past five years, her arms and legs were constantly swollen, more so in the morning and she lived in pain and stiffness that racked her small frame every day. Most recently, she experienced numbness, to the point she could barely walk. After visiting a couple of doctors who gave her one pill or another that proved useless, and a third whom told her it was all in her mind. Between a misdiagnoses and loss of work hours, her insurance refused to cover any more costs. She turned to alcohol as pain management, but it sapped her strength and left her even more burdened like a water-logged sponge.

It took the remainder of her strength to climb the two flights of stairs to arrive on time before the Master finished for the day. Now her legs and knees were so swollen, she could barely stand let alone walk. The dark, mottled skin stretched over the swollen parts of her body resulted in a deep, shiny color. The young man assisted her the last few steps down the hall and to the Master’s room.

Ravenwood, now composed and sitting in his chair contemplated the woman as she was helped into the couch directly across from him. The voices in his head stopped. He became calm and serene, felt compassion and warmth rise within him again. Soon he was sweating as the energies began to flow and course through his body. He did not move, as his eyes scanned Mary’s body.

Not knowing what to expect she searched his deep, brown eyes for solace and waited for him to speak. Ravenwood merely stared in response, his eyes glazed and drifting. Feeling a bit self-conscience, Mary averted her eyes and looked at her hands.. “Master, do you…” Ravenwood raised his hand to silence her. She apologized with her hands, and wrung them together. Her breathing increased as she became more nervous, not knowing what to expect. What is he doing? Why won’t he say anything?

As if in response, Ravenwood moved from his chair, and gently kneeled in front of Mary. She looked into his green eyes once more, startled by his actions.

Weren’t his eyes brown before?

Ravenwood took her hands and felt her trembling. He smiled slightly and nodded his head to comfort her, then closed his eyes. Mary felt sudden but soothing warmth start at her hands and flow into her arms. Her eyes widened at the sight of a slight golden glow around his hands feeding into hers. Instead of fear she felt a strange euphoria which served to calm her anxiety and pain. She felt her skin crawl as if a hundred-thousand spiders moved up her arm and she looked down to find the annoying arachnids but could only see dim sparkles of gold. No wait…those aren’t spiders I feel. She closed her eyes and senses reeled as the warmth increased all over her body.

It seemed only a couple of minutes had gone by; when in reality it had been nearly fifteen. The spiders stopped crawling along her body and she opened her eyes to see what he was doing. She looked down at her wrists and tears welled in her sunken eyes. Shifting her gaze to look at her knees, she sobbed as she watched the swelling melt away before her eyes. The usual black and blue tint to the swollen areas became pink and healthy. Her pain faded, even before the swelling completely diminished.

She tried to look into Ravenwood’s eyes, but he held them closed, his head bowed. She could see veins pulsing in his temples and a slight golden glow, shimmering around his head. She felt as if her eyes played tricks on her as she watched the glow fade leaving only Ravenwood’s brown eyes staring into hers. He looked as if he had not slept for over a week.

Mary stood cautiously as Ravenwood let go of her hands. He smiled to one side and let out a sigh as he sat back in his chair and watched the woman stretch her arms and walk around the room. She brought her hands to her face and cried uncontrollably. She had to sit back down again, but only because she felt dizzy from the overwhelming emotions that now flooded her very being. Ravenwood sat next to her on the couch and held her as she let out five years of lost life and frustration.

Several minutes passed and Mary stood up again and walked briskly around the chair just to prove to herself this wasn’t a dream. Although she still felt a little stiff and some discoloration remained, she felt better than she had in over five years. Ravenwood held her hand as she giggled – something else she had not done for many years. “God bless you Master Ravenwood..”

Joe held his hands together and bowed his head, then stood to meet her eyes. “You are welcome Mary. The pain and swelling will continue to abide, so give it a little more time to feel completely normal.” She nodded and shook her head as if to say it didn’t matter; she felt happy with the results. She lifted her hands and opened and closed them to show how free and painless she felt. “Now go in peace and happiness.”

Mary nodded, lifted his hands, and kissed them all over before holding them to her left cheek. She let his hand return to his side and bent her knees in place as if to demonstrate his handiwork, then she smiled and laughed. “God bless you. God bless your gift.”

Joe nodded again as she nearly ran from the room and back to the hallway stairs. Joe heard the gasps and sobs as the others watched her bounce down the stairs like a child who has just seen their first Christmas. The murmurs continued well after Mary ran out the door and down the street.

Once again, the mumbles of the crowd gave way to the voices in Joe’s head. But now there was a new voice. Mary’s. He strained against the cacophony and placed his hands against his ears, straining against the turbulence.

“Your ‘gift’ is from Satan himself..”

The minister, red-faced and blustering clenched his fist into the air in front of hundreds of his followers as he held up a flyer of Joe Ravenwood. A cheer rose up in agreement, some standing others sitting and clapping.

“I say to this…healer…that unless you follow the will of God, the one true God, and have Jesus in your heart, than no one has the right to claim healing powers.”

Rev. Donahue sat back upon his heels, wiping away the perspiration glinting in the stage lights. He slowly panned the parishioners filling his church to capacity. Raising his eyebrows and looking down into his gold-leafed bible, he brushed his index finger across a passage and in a quieter tone read the scripture:

Matthew 10:1;
And when he had called unto him his twelve disciples, he gave them power against unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness and all manner of disease

The congregation hummed the word ‘amen’ and sat back into their pews. The sounds of shuffling feet and settling wooden pews rumbled throughout the old church walls. Rev. Donahue made his way back to the pulpit, set the bible down and closed his eyes.

“Let us pray. Pray that this man finds his way back to Jesus, and ends his blasphemy. Let God fill his heart, and cast out the false gods that blind his soul. Amen”

The Gift - The Beginning

I always knew I was different. What the hell was so great about being ‘normal’ anyway? So, in those torrid years of teenage rebellion, I went through my punk phase, my Goth phase, and my grunge phase. I even tried my hand at being a sales Preppie, but that didn’t fit me either. Not me. Nothing ever seemed to fit.

My parents, overzealous though they may be, always had the best intentions. I knew they loved me; they just had weird ideas about right and wrong. Each “phase” of my young life I was dragged to their church meetings to help ‘straighten’ me out. Each time I went it pushed me further and further away from God or anything spiritual; mostly because it meant nothing to me. Again, it didn’t fit. Christianity wasn’t for me.

It wasn’t until I was at least eighteen that I even considered doing anything religious or spiritual in my life. As part of my major, I took a world religions class in college, and I was fascinated about religion - from a scientific point of view. How could so many faiths exist? each one claiming their’s is the one, true way to enlightenment, or God, or Jesus, or Shakti.

Then, there was Kristen. My first year of college and she was everything I wasn’t – at least at the time. Beautiful, intelligent and one of the most peaceful and compassionate people I had ever met. It was difficult, even with my hardened, logical views not to soften in her presence. I assumed she had to be a ‘Jesus freak’ to be so spiritual and sweet. That woman never uttered a cross word. She didn’t need to. She handled each situation as if it was a challenge. To herself and her faith Oh yes, her faith. She called herself a witch. Not like ya see in Bewitched or other hocus-pocus television or badly written B movies. One of those new-age witches that work with chakras, herbs, healing, and incense and all that.

I thought it was a bit weird at first, and somewhat insane to think you could do magic like Houdini or like some circus act, or whip up a soufflé like Samantha. But she explained everything in detail, patiently and with a reverence I had never seen before. She even had the fortuity to explain magic using Quantum physics, knowing that it would appeal to my scientific approach on life. How thoughtful. After she told me about her beliefs, her gifts and ability to control her own destiny, she told me that I too, have the gift. The gift of healing.

What? Me, a healer? Come on, that’s in fairy tales and folklore. Shamans and all that. Just hocus pocus and nonsense.

She only smiled, chuckled a little and then told me I was in for a surprise. I merely shrugged and told her of my experiences with religion and boisterous ministers. I rambled on about how religion was made to control people with their doctrines, and horror stories of hell and such. She smiled again and told me that there is no hell in her belief. Only the karmic hell we create for ourselves right here on Earth. Ok, now we were really getting into ‘woo woo’ territory. Karma is nothing more than the same dogma that Christians used to scare the crap outta people so they will do as they’re told.

“Nope. Karma allows you to make a choice, and live with the consequences – good or bad.” She stated with confidence.

“You really have faith in all this. Don’t cha?”

She smiled again as if to say now you get it.

I just shook my head and asked her out for some pizza and a movie. Of course she said yes. After all, I was to be her newest challenge. So, she was a little odd. But perhaps that’s what attracted me to her – maybe she was my challenge. I had to admit, I was also a little curious about her insistence that I was a healer. I don’t think at the time, she realized what kind of healings I would actually be doing, aside from the usual chakra balancing and polarity therapy.

The car rolled out of control. Too many sounds, flashes of light and wetness blurred my vision. I couldn’t tell up from down, front or back.

Pain. Not the kind you can identify. Just pain. It seemed forever that we lay in the car after it finally came to a rest in the ditch. Luckily, it landed upright with only a minimal amount of damage. Thank the gods for sturdy trucks, huh?

My head cleared, and I immediately thought of Kristen. I reached over to see her still unconscious. Blood poured from a gash in her forehead. I grabbed my t-shirt, ripped it off and pressed it against her wound. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Head wounds always bleed a lot more, right? My arms and head ached as I attempted to gain better leverage to hold the t-shirt firmly against her head. I gently felt her chest, arms and legs for any broken bones or other gashes. She had some cuts and probably bruises that I could see, but not much else. At least that’s what I concluded at the time, perhaps wishful thinking, perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly.

Falling debris landed on the hood and windshield and I turned to look just in time to see a woman sliding down the embankment to where the car sat and shouting to us. I painfully turned my head in her direction to see her face pushed up against the only window that wasn’t broken or cracked. I slowly raised my hand to her and then pointed to Kristen’s head wound. The woman nodded. Stepping back from the car, she lifted what appeared to be a cell phone to her ear and I could barely hear her voice. My head was swimming. I was beginning to black out. Strange though…I felt warm and peaceful. Is this what it’s like to die? Kristen began to stir. How long had it been? That was my last thought.

I awoke staring into the faces of EMT’s as they frantically hooked me up to IV’s and bandaged various places on my body. I must be worse than I thought.

A voice spoke from between the chaotic scene..

“Baby, you ok? You’re gonna be ok, all right?” It was Kristen sounding frantic and out of breath. Wait a minute. Why aren’t they working on that gash she got on her head? I didn’t see any bandages on her and she stood over the EMT’s, trying to reach me.

I swam in a huge lake. No, wait, it was the ocean. A storm brewed overhead and lightening split the sky and burned my eyes. I shouted as loud as I could but no sound came out. Swells lifted me up and down as the sea became choppy from the storm. I began to feel sick. I tried to breathe deep, in and out, in and out the way Kristen showed me. I reached for the sky as if to grab hold of the clouds and pull myself free. The lightening responded and I withdrew my hands quickly afraid of being shocked.

A set of hands and arms wrapped underneath my shoulders and across my chest and lifted me out of the water. Suddenly I stood on solid ground, no water or ocean around that I could see, but the storm still raged overhead. A voice called out to me from the sky. It was a woman’s voice; so sweet and beautiful it almost sounded as if she was singing. She sang of the birth of the world, the life that sprang from the ocean, the long hard journey to land, and finally of the plight of humans. I felt a hand touch my forehead and I saw a glowing light above my head. Golden light, deep blues, bright greens. I saw my entire body covered in a living light that ebbed and flowed around me.

That’s all I remember. Until two days later in the hospital when I slowly opened my eyes.

Ah shit, even they hurt.

The doctors and nurses were busy checking this, poking that. Didn’t even faze them that I was awake. My parents had tears in their eyes. I felt someone squeezing my hand, thought it was the nurse.

“Hey sleepy head.”

“Hi baby…” was about all I could muster to Kristen. She gave my hand a squeeze and kissed me on the cheek. “Ow.”

“Oops, sorry.” Kristen grimaced and pulled away stroking my cheek.

“No, no, its not you.” I turned to the nurse. “What the hell are you stabbing me with?”

The nurse just frowned and raised her eyebrows, almost scolding, “It’s just an IV drip.”

The doctor gently moved my head so he could shine a light right into my iris. I flinched and squinted, but tried to be a good patient.

“Well, it seems that your body functions have returned to normal.” The doctor said. He sat up from the chair next to me and spoke to my parents. “He is a very lucky young man. We didn’t think he would ever come out of his coma with the injuries he sustained.”

Coma?

“Mom? Dad?”

The doctor looked back to me in answer to my silent question. “Yes son. You have been in a coma for over two days now. You received quite a nasty bump on the head. But all the swelling and seizures have stopped, and all your vitals are normal. Surprisingly the internal bleeding stopped on its own. I think we should keep you another day, but no reason to keep you longer than that.” My parents thanked the doctor and my mom squeezed his hand and hugged him while thanking him profusely.

“Don’t thank me; this was in God’s hands.” The doctor stated with a shrug

I cringed and smiled. If he only knew.

I did indeed go home the following day. I felt great – really great. Amazing that I wasn’t really stiff or sore. I didn’t even have a headache. In fact, I felt almost euphoric. The doctor warned me that if I felt that way for more than a day’s time, to contact him immediately. It could indicate a problem with my brain. Still, I was determined to enjoy it.

Kristen and I sat eating fresh apple pie in bed after a heavy bought of sex. Was it the sex or another reason I was so hungry?. I ate nearly half the damn pie. Kristen just giggled and kicked her leg over mine.

“So. Do you know what happened that night?” Kristen said seriously.

“I remember the crash, and covering your wound, yes. Nothing more than that.” I stared at the pie on my plate for a moment. “I had the strangest dream though. I floated in an ocean. A big storm made the water choppy and a large set of arms pulled me out. And there was this woman’s voice…” I shoveled the last of my pie into my mouth and mumbled something else.

Kristen narrowed her eyes and pointed to her head. “Remember a while back I said you were in for a surprise?” I looked at her puzzled. “Remember?” she brought her hand down and pat the pillow. “I told you, you have the gift.”

Oh no, not this again. “Look baby, you know this stuff really isn’t for me. I support what you believe and who you are, but there has to be some scientific answer.” She held her hand up and looked almost somber.

“Joe. Do you realize that I could have died that night?” I looked at her in surprise. She was awake when they removed me from the car, awake when I saw her in the hospital that night. Died?

“When the EMT’s arrived, they saw you had been holding your t-shirt over my head and it was soaked with blood, and…” She shuddered a bit and continued, “Brain matter.”

I sat straight up, flipping my plate and pie crumbs across the bed. “No one ever told me that..”

Kristen raised her hand in a request to let her finish. “I know. I didn’t tell anyone. Yet, when the EMT’s pulled me out to work on me, and removed the t-shirt, they found…no wound. Just a slightly scabbed scratch and a bare spot where the hair was missing.”

“Whaaaat?”

“They assumed it must be from you, since you were unconscious, and it you weren’t wearing a the t-shirt After checking you for a similar injury, the only thing they could find was some internal bleeding, and a large bump on the head, but no external wound.”

She sat up to meet my eyes. “Joe. They ran tests on the blood and gray matter on the t-shirt. It matched me ninety-nine percent. They could not understand how, if I was wounded that badly, I could have healed over so quickly by the time they arrived.”

I blinked. I felt like I was going to choke. No, I felt like I was going to throw up. Shouldn’t have had that last piece of pie.

“Wait a second. I didn’t see that deep of a gash on you when I put my t-shirt on your wound, just blood. And I sure as hell didn’t see any gray matter.”

Kristen got up from the bed, still naked, the sun filtering in through the blinds reflected off her white skin giving her the appearance of an angel and walked out into the dining room. I heard papers rustling on her desk and I sat back on my elbows and peered around the corner to see what she was doing. She gathered about three sheets and returned triumphantly, placing them on my stomach. “Read.”

It was a doctor’s report from the night of the accident. I brought the sheet closer to read:

Patient: Kristen MacMillan
Age: 27
DOB: 6/24/1989
Gender: Female

Reason: Vehicle collision victim. Sustained superficial injuries, possible head trauma

Description of injuries:

X-Ray and MRI: Negative

Left cranial hemisphere. Patient experienced a skull fracture with intracranial hematoma and lacerations to scalp and left side of face

Wound appears to have been from an injury sustained previous to accident occurring on this date. Not related to other injuries sustained from collision.

No further treatment necessary, patient released.

Blood tests pending

How can this be? In all the time I knew her, even in college, she has never had a head trauma. What was she trying to tell me?

I looked up into her eyes as she stood there, tears welling, her arms crossed almost as if she was mad at me for something. I shrugged slightly and didn’t know what to say.

“Joe,” she started, her lips quivering, “You a healer. You placed your hands on my head to stop the bleeding, but what you actually did was like reiki. You not only healed my wound, you saved my life.”

Ok. So, there must be something to this. Doctors don’t lie, right? I mean, if there was any chance that the doctor was wrong, why wouldn’t he keep her for observation? She seemed coherent and sane. Maybe I wasn’t. I laid back and let my head flop against the pillow.

“Ok. Let’s assume you’re right. How do we know this wasn’t just a fluke? I mean, I love you so much that, perhaps, it was a one time deal?”

Kristen sat down next to me and stroked my hair, pulling it free from my eyes. “You remember during the time we were in college, there was that dog that had been run over by a car?” I had to search my memory. It seemed as though things were still fuzzy, my head wasn’t clear.

“Yeah.”

“Ok. We ran over to see if it was ok. I wrote down the license plate of the car as it took off, and you had your hands on the dog checking to see if it was still alive and uninjured.”

“Yep.”

“After about five minutes, the dog whimpered, and you held it tighter so it wouldn’t move. By the time the animal control and the dog’s owners arrived, the dog was up and about, wagging his tail.”

I remembered that. I figured he had just gotten the wind knocked outta him. “Well, yeah, he wasn’t as badly hurt as we thought, then, huh?”

Kristen smiled. “I went to the where the dog lived and talked to the owners about two weeks later to see if he was doing okay. Mrs. Brown came out and said ‘Well see for yourself. I have never seen him this frisky since he was a pup. He used to limp with arthritis ya know.’ The dog ran up to me with a ball in his mouth and wanted to play.”

“You never told me you went there after that.”

Kristen nodded knowingly. “I know. But I didn’t think you would believe me, or even be upset if I told you.”

I looked down at the empty plate, feeling guilty as though I made her feel bad about being honest with me. I didn’t know what to say about something in the past that was done and over. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes.

“It’s because that dog was fifteen years old, Joe that I know this is not a random chance. He had cataracts and arthritis and that’s why he got run over by the car. After that, and you holding him, his arthritis disappeared, and his vision returned.”

I had to see for myself. I trusted Kristen, but she could sometimes exaggerate things. Of course the dog had to be close to twenty by now. Even if he was healed, he probably regressed back to his old self. How was I to know for sure? Somehow, I knew she was right about this. But how could this be?

“Um,” I stammered for words. “How do we…I mean, what should we….er. I think we need to be sure?”

“You want proof? These things are not enough for you?” Kristen said in surprise. “Ok, let’s take a trip.” She ran to the shower and motioned to me to get dressed.

“What trip? Where are we going?”

Miracles

“Volunteer at the hospital? Me?”

“Yes. Now. Here is a perfect opportunity for you to help others – and of course see if your healing ability works on everyone.” Kristen was rather smug about all this. I wrinkled my nose at her and waved my hands around.

“I still don’t know if this is all real.” I said half-convinced. Although, the circumstances surrounding the car accident and Kristen’s remarkable recovery does seem to defy anything reasonable – or plausible at this point. I turned to look back up at Kristen who now seemed annoyed, rather than amused.

“How can you say that? Ok, so I know there was only two cases, that I know of anyway, where a miracle healing occurred and you were directly involved in some way.” She began to pace nervously, perhaps doubting her own eyes. Since the accident, Kristen sometimes felt as if she was either dreaming or just out of focus. Although it wasn’t a constant feeling, it was enough to bother her to the point of questioning everything.

“You know I hate hospitals.” I whined changing the subject. Kristen actually giggled slightly, brightening her mood a bit.

“It would only be for a short time. Just until we can see a few people…” She stopped, searching for the right words that wouldn’t make me out to be a Saint or something. Nor would I be a ‘messiah’ or JC himself. I was just Joe.

“…get better.” She finished with a shrug.

“You mean survive? Not be terminal? Healed?”

“Something….like that.” Her smile faded and the doubt returned. What could I do? This was for her as much as it was for me; and, if it was true, for all those people whose lives are hanging in the balance.

“Northwest General Hospital” Stated the cab driver. I handed him a twenty for the fifteen dollars and sixty cents fare. I guess he assumed the rest was a tip – didn’t even bother to make change.

Shouldering my bag, I felt Kristen’s hand squeeze mine. We both felt as if we had totally lost it. Especially me. Me. The one who used to poke fun at the so-called Christian healers on Sunday mornings who would knock people on their asses and say they were healed in the name of God.

Giving each other a side glance and a smile as if we were about to do something mischievous, we made our way up the old stone steps. Northwest General was one of the oldest hospitals in the state. Many of the earlier architects had this colonial thing going on with their designs and the hospital was no exception. ‘Course, then it was a simple doctor’s office that was shared by the courthouse and police. How convenient, I mused; trial, execution and autopsy, all in one place.

“May I help you?” Ms. Smith behind the receptions’ desk queried.

“Hi. I’m Joe Ravenwood and this is Kristen MacMillan.” I offered. We exchanged glances with the receptionist whom appeared unimpressed. “Uh, we are the new volunteers?”

Ms. Smith handed us some packets and pencils. The pencils looked as if they had been chewed by an anxiety sufferer’s club. The copies in the packet appeared as if they had been photo-copied so many times, you could barely make out the text. Oh. Did I mention I hate the smell of hospitals too?

“Fill those out and take them to the fourth floor. Give them to the receptionist there and she will provide you with duty rosters for the week.” Ms. Smith deadpanned.

She had personality, that one.

As if reading my thoughts, Kristen badly suppressed a smile and we made our way to the fourth floor.

“Code blue. Code…blue. Room 360. Doctor Rhys, please report to room 360, stat.”

I hadn’t done a thing. I barely touched her. She looked so old, so frail. She had so many tubes in her, there had to be something I could have done to heal her. It shouldn’t matter what type of illness or wounds there are, right? I began to choke. I ran from the room in a cold sweat as the nurses and doctor moved in with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of medical equipment and attempted to save her life. At least…I hope they can.

Kristen caught up with me in the hallway, the sounds of frantic voices echoed from the old woman’s room as the medical staff continued to work on her. I could hear the steady tone from the monitors indicating her heart was still not working.

“Joe, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” I couldn’t stop shaking. “I was…trying to help her. I barely even touched her and, and…” I slumped into a chair next to the nurse’s station.

“What? Did you try to heal her?” Kristen seemed confused, almost as if she had no idea what I was talking about.

“No. I mean, yes, I…” I stopped, caught my breath and sat back into the chair. “I wanted to see if all this was real. I wanted to know that it wasn’t some fluke. I don’t know. Maybe I was just trying to prove I couldn’t.”

Kristen kneeled in front of me and grabbed my hands. She smiled and stared into my eyes. “It was probably her time. It was a coincidence that it happened when you walked in there. That’s all.”

“Wait a sec.” I sat up and frowned. “I thought you were the one who didn’t believe in coincidence? You always told me everything happens for a reason.”

“Shit happens…sometimes.” Kristen shrugged and tried to make it seem simpler than it was.

“Yeah.Yeah, okay.” I wasn’t so convinced. Did I do it wrong? Maybe I can’t do it at all. Maybe it’s a subconscious thing, where I shouldn’t even be trying so hard?

My head was spinning. Every sound that was made in the hospital wing echoed in my head. I could hear voices and machines, even those at the far end of the hall. I could hear Nurse Johnson spreading more gossip to the other nurses in the break room. That’s when I noticed the steady ‘beep, beep, beep’ coming from room 360.

“They saved her.” I said to Kristen as tears welled up in my eyes. Kristen raised her eyebrows and turned towards the room as a couple of nurses came out, wheeling the defibrillator out into the hallway.

“How did you know that?”

I just shook my head. “I need some air.” I got up and made my way down the back stairs, Kristen right behind me. Three floors seemed to take forever to get to the outside world. I kicked open the exit door, grabbed the large rock that was used to prop it open and placed it in between the frame and the door with a thud.

“You okay?”

“I will be.” I said, digging out a cigarette from the box. I fumbled with the lighter and took a deep drag as the flame licked the end of the cigarette.

“I thought you quit?” Kristen frowned at me as I took another, long drag.

“I did.” Again, I took another drag. Smiled awkwardly at Kristen and handed the cigarette to her, exhaling the smoke as if it were pure ecstasy.

“Yeah, okay.” She took a drag, watched the smoke drift among the trees and turned to look back into my eyes. “I hope this doesn’t stop you from trying again.”

She handed me the cigarette and I contemplated it before taking another drag. “I don’t know. I don’t think so today.” I sighed and closed my eyes and leaned back against the door. “Kristen. What if I can’t?”

She watched me for a moment. No matter what, that gal would always be supportive of my decisions. I knew that she believed in me in ways I never considered. But I had no idea she would respond the way she did. “You can, and you will.” This is too important for you to ignore or turn your back on.”

I was shocked. I expected her to say ‘Oh that’s ok hon, at least you tried’. No such luck. She was right, though. I have to at least try one more time. I nodded grimly and took one last drag before dropping the butt and crushing it with my shoe.

“Tomorrow.” I said firmly. Kristen smiled and nodded. She gave me a kiss and we headed back to the third floor.

“Joe? Joe.” Nurse Johnson barked. As if waking from a trance I shook my head and blinked at her. “Can you please go to room 309 and change the sheets?”

“Sure.” I walked towards the utility closet to retrieve new sheets and stopped to look back at Nurse Johnson. “Uh, 309. Who is that again and what’s the diagnosis?”

“That’s Mr. Bedford’s room. He just had an operation for a broken hip, so be careful when you change the sheets.”

“Okay, thanks.” I grabbed two sets of sheets and pillow cases, sucked in a deep breath and made my way there.

It was already nine at night and most of the visitors had gone home. The place was silent except for the beeps of monitoring equipment and the quiet gossip filtering through the hallways. Mr. Bedford was sound asleep when I arrived, probably so doped up on pain pills that he slept away the better part of the day. I began to gently pull the sheets apart from his bed and open the clean sheets to exchange when I stopped and stared at the tube running into his hip, covered in bandages.

Mr. Bedford was all of fifty-six years old. Pretty young to have a hip injury. But from the gossip I have overheard, he was pretty active; always taking adventures and traveling. He broke his hip four-wheeling in a dune buggy over the weekend. They even said he walked away from the buggy when it flipped over and into the ditch. Tough guy.

I set the sheets down in the nearby chair. My palms were sweaty and my hands shook. I walked over to the door and checked to make sure no one was nearby before I closed the door halfway. I walked up to his bed and took a deep breath. I raised my hands slowly and then, very gently, I placed them on his injured hip and closed my eyes.

Nothing.

Calm. Warm. I felt a sense of euphoria. I didn’t feel any more anxiety or trembling. I could see light against my eyelids and opened my eyes to see if someone had entered the room. The room was still dark and the door closed halfway.

I looked down at my hands and nearly gasped out loud. There was a glow. I think it was a glow of light. Or was it a reflection of the light coming from the hallway? No. From the lights outside? Before I could rationalize it any further, Mr. Bedford grunted a little and shifted his shoulders before sighing. I looked back down at my hands and they were no longer glowing. I felt as though I just woke up, but still felt calm and warm. Dreaming. I must be dreaming. How much time has gone by? I checked the clock and fifteen minutes had already passed.

I walked into the hallway and asked another nurse for her assistance in changing the sheets. Nurse Davis came over and looked almost pissed that I called her away from her coffee. Then she smiled at me and I realized how big she is. She could have thrown Mr. Bedford over her shoulder and changed the sheets herself.

“What’s a matter Joe? Still haven’t figured out how to tuck a sheet?” She laughed.

I laughed back and shrugged. We both began to changes the sheets while Mr. Bedford slept unaware and uncaring. He did seem to have a smile on his face though.

We had the graveyard shift a couple days later. I didn’t think I could get used to these weird hours, but I was able to get a lot of sleep over the past couple of days so I felt plenty rested. I never told Kristen who I tried it on or when. She looked as if she was going to burst with anticipation. I just smiled and continued to read over the evening’s roster.

Nurse Johnson met us at the nurse’s station after we clocked in. She looked a little strange. Damn, doesn’t this woman ever go home?

“Just an update on our patients. We have two new patients at the end of the hall,” She handed us a patient list as she continued. “One with hepatitis, the other with a severe case of diarrhea and vomiting. She is stable at the moment, but was severely dehydrated. There is another patient who was moved up to this section earlier today. She has a acute case of diabetes and one of her kidneys has failed. She is going in for dialysis tomorrow morning, so her vitals have to be checked every hour without fail. She is in room 309.”

We nodded and looked over the roster. There were several other people who had been discharged as well. I looked up at room 309, back to the roster and than at Nurse Johnson. “Um, 309? What happened to Mr. Bedford? Didn’t he just have hip surgery?”

Nurse Johnson looked around as if to share a secret. She began to speak and stopped to look over her shoulder to the nurse washing her hands in the basin. “Sheila, can you take over the desk for a moment?” Sheila nodded and came over to sit at the station while drying her hands with a paper towel, then Nurse Johnson directed us over to the break room. “Mr. Bedford was released yesterday morning.”

Kristen and I looked at each other with wide eyes. “I know.” Nurse Johnson acknowledged our response. “The most one could have hoped for is a week of recovery time and some physical therapy before being discharged.”

Kristen smiled at me and I pinched her arm slightly to make her stop being so obvious. Nurse Johnson continued with her story. “Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Bedford was seen walking up and down the hallway, without his walker or even a cane. One of the nurses ran over to him and scolded him for not asking our assistance before moving about the hospital.” She took a sip of coffee and the stirred it absently mindedly with her fork.

“He made such a fuss about how good he felt, and how awesome the doctor was that operated on him that he refused any help. The nurses thought he was high on painkillers and insisted he return to his bed, which he did reluctantly.” She leaned towards us a bit closer, adding a dramatic flare to her story. “Then the doctor came to check up on him. Mr. Bedford was up and around in his room again, no cane, no walker. The doctor also thought he was ‘feeling good’…” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “Because of the painkillers, and insisted he rest and limit his movements.”

“Finally, the doctor, not wanting to risk any damage done by Mr. Bedford’s excursions, arranged to have his hip X-Rayed to make sure none of the metal pins had moved.” She sipped from her coffee again and raised her eyebrows. She sat back in her chair, and continued with revelation. “You know what the X-Rays found? Nothing. His hip bone had completely healed, and even the wound around the drain tube had sealed.”

My jaw dropped. It couldn’t be. Kristen reached under the table and grabbed my knee, nearly digging her nails into it. I flinched a bit and slapped her hand. I felt as if I was dreaming, everything surreal. My thoughts wandered and I began to hear the voices down the hall again, clear and obvious.

“I have worked in this hospital for over ten years.” Nurse Johnson stated with conviction. “And in all that time I have seen and heard some weird shit. But this takes the cake.”

“You’re not kiddin’.. This is a damn miracle.” Kristen said loudly, nearly coming out of her chair and giving me a knowing glance.

“Wow.” Is all I could muster.

Nurse Johnson moved her hands up and down as if to quiet us down. We all leaned in to each other across the table to hear the rest of the story. “The doctor nearly had to be resuscitated. But then again, being that he is an arrogant asshole, he took all the credit for a well done surgery.”

“What?.” I said a little pissed as I took the statement very personal.

“Yep.” She nodded with satisfaction – her gossip was complete. She sat back in the chair again with a happy cat-that-ate-the-canary look. “Well, he can say what he wants to, but no doctor is that good. Like you said Kristen – it’s a damn miracle.”

We both sat back into our chairs and looked at each other. Kristen smiled again and I didn’t pinch her for it. We nodded and said our ‘thank you’s’ and went to start the day. Or night as it were.

I was in a fog. None of this can be possible, can it? How? Was there really a glow around my hands? I brought my hands up to look for any explanation, following the deep lines and white skin that was dry from washing my hands in a sterile environment. I briefly thought that I may have gotten light stick fluid on my hands from the party the night before to explain the glowing. Then I rolled my eyes at such a lame reasoning. Kristen pulled me to the side at the end of the hall and made sure no one was looking. She kissed me long and deep. I held on to her tightly. She grunted a bit and I stopped squeezing so hard.

“You did it, Joe. It was Mr. Bedford, wasn’t it?”

I nodded and shrugged slightly. I didn’t know what to say or do. I still could not comprehend such ability, but now it was a challenge to disprove it, rather than prove it. “I am going to work on the dialysis patient tonight.” Kristen smiled and kissed me again.

“I want to be there when you do.” Kristen said into my ear.

I moved her back away from me and held her shoulders. “Not yet. Kristen, I still don’t know if this is real. I don’t feel comfortable unless I can do this alone.”

Kristen looked hurt, then pissed. “Fine. But at least tell me when you do.” I nodded and we went our separate ways.

Amy Flannigan, aged forty-seven. Married with one daughter. Short, blonde hair with graying streaks and overweight. She looked like she was on her last legs. Eyes dark and sunken, breathing shallow and raspy. She had so many tubes in her that she looked like those old radios made in the thirties and forties. The monitors checked everything from heart rate, breathing and brain activity, to how much piss she had in her bag. The room smelled of sickness - it turned my stomach. As selfish as it may sound all I wanted to do is walk back out of the room and stay away. I was never comfortable in hospitals, and this didn’t help.

I turned and stood in the doorway, my back to her. I took one deep breath of the antiseptic air in the hallway and held it. I checked for anyone in the area and turned back into Amy’s room and shut the door. It was her hourly check for vitals, and my last chance to prove I wasn’t who Kristen thought I was. Or perhaps, it was me that was hoping I wasn’t.

I checked Amy’s urine bag, bedpan, and adjusted her pillows and blankets. After filling out the appropriate paperwork I placed the folder in the doorway file holder, leaving the door cracked open a bit. I glanced at her IV and figured I had some time before anyone came in to replace the bag. I straightened out her tubes and untangled her IV. Just then, she broke wind. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so nervous. In fact it made me more nervous. She moaned slightly but never moved. Suddenly the voices returned. The beeps of the monitors in the room became louder. No, it was all the monitors on this floor. What the hell?

I ignored them somehow, and raised my hands over her. I didn’t know where to put them this time. It was her kidneys, but that meant I would have to rest my hands on her bloated stomach. What if someone walked in while I did that? Her hands were folded over her stomach, so I opted for the hand to hand thing. I placed my hands directly on hers and closed my eyes.

Just them I heard a shuffle of papers scraping against plastic. Nurse Johnson pulled the reports out of the box in the doorway and replaced them with new ones. I pulled my hands back and pretended to adjust something on the monitor when she leaned in.

“Hey Joe. Everything okay here?”

“Uh, yeah. Just checking vitals and the equipment.”

“Okay. Don’t worry about that, volunteers only need to change bedding and such.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She left and I could hear her moving down the hallway, each footstep sounding as if she were still in the room. I could hear her talking to a janitor about a clean up in room 352. I took one last look around to make sure she wasn’t in the room, and placed my hands on Amy’s hands once more and closed my eyes.

Calm, warm, well-being. The glow reflected off my eyelids once again. I didn’t open them to look this time. Out of sight, out of mind, right? That glowing thing kinda creeped me out.

I stood there, hands over hers for what seemed fifteen minutes or more. Or was it five?. I began to sweat. And as suddenly as it started, it stopped. I felt colder, beads of sweat dripped down my face. I looked down at Amy and she had a slight smile on her face. Her eyes didn’t look dark anymore. A light came on and temporarily blinded me.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were still in here. You okay?” Nurse Agatha, as she preferred to be called, walked in with some blankets. She was one of the oldest volunteers on the third floor and kept up with the rest of us, even though she had a limp from a bad knee.

“Oh yeah, fine. I…I didn’t like the looks of her vitals earlier, and came back to double check on her.”

“Well aren’t you sweet.” She walked over to look over the vitals and monitors quickly and then at Amy. “Well sweety, I don’t know what ya had to do, but she looks fine. Don’t worry about it, I will finish up here, you go take a break, you look exhausted.”

I nodded, said thanks and moved quickly out of the room, hoping that she hadn’t seen me sweating. I walked straight into the bathroom and rinsed my face off.

Shit, I needed a cigarette.

Kristen was already outside and just lit her own cigarette. “I thought you were going to quit.” I said with sarcasm.

“Shut up.” She frowned and took a long drag. “So? How’d it go?”

“Nurse Agatha walked in on me.” I said out of the side of my mouth while lighting my cigarette. “I thought I was nailed.”

Kristen giggled. “You would be lucky if she even knew it was you. She’s blind as a bat.”

“I know but still.” I chose my words carefully. “What if she saw the ‘glow’?”

Kristen looked at me as if I had just told her aliens had crash-landed in the desert. “Glow?”

“Yeah. There was this…glow, like yellow-ish, er, gold maybe? I don’t know. Anyway, that’s the second time I saw it.”

She sat down on the second step next to the door. And watched me for a moment. “Joe. This is bigger than we both realized. What you can do is almost god-like.”

She knew better. I didn’t hold to the religious point of view and certainly didn’t believe I was some sort of god. I hadn’t even been to a church since I was fifteen. Science was my god. Something that can be proven after a lot of testing and factual data. There had to be something scientific in all this. Power of the mind? The will to survive? Alien parasite?

“I don’t think we should get carried away. I am not the next messiah or anything.”

“Whatever you want to call it, it’s a divine gift. Whatever natural cause or effect it comes from, it still exists. Don’t make it into something trivial.”

No, this certainly wasn’t trivial. Yet, it still had to be proven or scientifically researched to make it more real in my mind. It’s too easy, too unencumbered to not have some sort of explanation that makes sense.

We sat quietly, cigarette smoke drifting through the air in front of us. I contemplated what I was doing; smoking. Something that’s bad for your health. Yet, I felt as if it wasn’t a risk. After the car accident, I healed as quickly as did Kristen and felt better than I had in many years.

“Let’s go back inside.”

Our shift was ending within the hour, and so far, no news on Amy. She still lay sleeping in her bed, no changes in her vitals, and the doctor was due soon to ready her for dialysis.

“Kristen. I am going to see if I can be assigned to assist with Amy. Can you cover the rest of my shift?”

“Sure. Meet ya for breakfast later?” She winked.

“It’s a date.” We kissed quickly and went our separate ways.

Almost two hours past the time my shift ended, I asked Nurse Johnson if I could assist with Amy’s dialysis when Doctor Broan came in. She raised an eyebrow at me and asked if I had heard that we were short handed today. I shook my head, and just said I wanted to help out. She nodded and told me I had perfect timing, since the regular nurse had not made it into work that morning and I could be there in her place. I grabbed some supplies and made my way to Amy’s room. Before I got to the door, Doctor Broan stopped me in the hallway.

“You Joe Ravenwood?”

“Yes I am. Doctor Broan?” I held my hand out to shake his. He quickly did so and seemed in a bit of a rush.

“I was told, you the last person to check on Amy last night.”

Uh oh.

“I was, yes.” I answered somewhat hesitantly. I didn’t know if I was in trouble or if Nurse Agatha said something about my hands resting on Amy’s when she walked into the room last night. “Is there a problem?”

Doctor Broan did not change his emotions or facial expressions. He moved to one side and waved his hand in the direction of Amy’s room. “Come with me. Oh, and you won’t need those.” He gestured for me to drop the equipment I was carrying in the hallway chairs.

Now what? All I could think of is that I was seen. Not that it should be a big deal, after all I could have been comforting the patient. Wasn’t that normal? Being kind to those who are suffering?

Doctor Broan entered the room but stopped short at the door and leaned in towards me. “Did you notice anything unusual about her vitals that you didn’t report?”

“No. The only difference was that she looked less piqued about halfway through the night. Nurse Agatha saw her as well.” I bit my lip involuntarily. I could feel sweat rolling down my back.

The doctor nodded, glanced over at the curtain that was hanging in front of Amy. The morning light was shining through the curtain, and I could see another nurse chatting with Amy, silhouetted from the sun. “Well,” he smiled. “Thank you. I won’t need you today after all.” He shook my hand and walked into the room to talk with Amy.

I stepped back into the hall slightly and the nurse pulled back the curtain. Amy was sitting up, smiling and laughing with the doctor. All the tubes had been removed except for one IV. Even the catheter was sitting on the bed, no longer in use. Amy turned in my direction, smiled and waved as if she knew I had been with her last night. I smiled and waved back and headed for the nurses station.

Nurse Johnson looked up at me as I approached. “Aren’t you off duty now?”

“Uh, yeah, but Doctor Broan wanted to talk to me about Amy’s condition.”

Nurse Johnson’s face lit up. First time I think I have seen her smile all night. “Oh did he tell you? Mrs. Flannigan’s kidneys regenerated and healed overnight. She is going through some tests right now, but they estimate she can go home this afternoon.”

Even though I knew why she was better, I was flabbergasted. All I could do was mumble something and wished her a good day. I had to find Kristen. This was the last straw. I was beginning to believe. It went against my scientific and more logical viewpoint on the world around us, but obviously something wonderful was happening. I need to know more about the spiritual side of things; and Kristen was the one to help in that department.

Awakening

It’s been over six months since I started at the hospital. I have put so much time in that they offered me a job. Of course I took it. It’s nice to eat and rest and pay bills in between healings. Oh yes, I have come to terms with it. Well, it still shocks me, especially in the severe cases. I have even grown to enjoy it. Northwest General was quickly becoming known as the hospital of miracles and the media eagerly wrote news stories every week highlighting the hospital’s new reputation.

Take the young boy whose collar bone was fractured in two places. His place on the basketball team was up for grabs. If I hadn’t helped him heal so quickly, he would have had to miss the entire year, which included practices.

Another was the oldest member of the city, Agnes Milford. She had just turned a hundred, and was well known in town for her boundless energy and sweet nature. She was a member of a half a dozen city volunteer groups and spent most of her spare time with her three children and eleven grandchildren. Her volunteer career came to a halt, however, when she was diagnosed with pelvic cancer. The doctors could not even operate because of her age. They gave her four months to live and insisted on keeping her at the hospital for observation and pain management.

Two weeks later, they held a festival in her honor as she celebrated her one hundredth birthday in style, cancer free and continuing her volunteer work.

Then there was my sweet aunt. Aunt Niki. Her real name was Nicholai Vjemasjki. Yeah I know what a mouthful. That’s why she preferred ‘Niki”. She was originally from Belgium, although her mom and dad were born and raised in Czechoslovakia, they moved to Belgium when she was three. Eventually she married and moved to the States shortly before my dad was born.

A smoker since age fifteen, she was up to two packs a day by the time emphysema kicked in, and she already had one operation to remove part of her lung. While visiting her in town, I approached her as she napped on the couch and placed my hands above her chest. Didn’t even think about it, I just did it. I’ve done it for so many others by now, why not my own family? The familiar glow surrounded my hands. I could hear voices again, louder this time. Everything seemed louder and more distinct. I was getting to understand now what was happening to me.

By the way…Aunt Niki is fine. She just finished running the one mile marathon.

No one had linked the miracles to me or my schedules. I made surprise visits and avoided the nurses by disguising myself after hours so that each healing wasn’t always on my shift. I never told anyone except Kristen; although she was dying to share this with the world, she kept her place.

Closed Minds, Open Hearts

The news came alive with discussions about a man who had extraordinary talents. Joe Ravenwood could no longer heal at the hospital once the word got out about his talents. Nurse Johnson, always up for new gossip, caught Joe while in a healing session on a patient, and nearly screamed when she saw his hands glowing. She ran out into the hallway and called everyone including the janitor to be her witness. Rather than stop what he was doing, Joe continued to finish his session with the entire fourth floor standing in and around the doorway. After the session, Joe admitted he has been the reason for so many healings that took place at the hospital. In a very short time, the understaffed hospital filled to capacity and Joe and Kristen were forced to find a new place to house his healing sessions.

Flyers were posted about a man whom would be holding a meeting at the Rainbow Lights Holistic Center in downtown. After several meetings with the owner Dora Sweet, Master Ravenwood began a new career in holistic health and healing Kristen knew Dora from her holistic health and meditation group. Besides being a level three reiki master, she owned the holistic center. In addition, she had traveled the world giving seminars, taking classes and living with Buddhists and Hindus; learning their ways and practicing deep meditation techniques. Upon returning she learned massage therapy to aid in her holistic skills, qualified for her license, and she opened the holistic center. When they first met, Dora knew, without hesitation, that Joe had a gift. She prompted him to do reiki on those in the meetings that needed it, and soon realized of what he was capable.

“Have you ever been attuned, Joe?”

Joe raised his eyebrows in confusion and just shook his head. “I just need some guidance and understanding to all of this.”

“Well, I suppose I could attune you and give you all the correct symbols. But honestly, I don’t see the point. You were born with the attunement. You may not consciously use symbols, but they are there.” Dora was able to sense the reiki symbols and when Spirit was working through an individual.

Joe shrugged slightly, and continued. “I don’t know. All I know is that when I put my mind to it, these people become healed. Not just feeling a bit better or having a sense of well-being, they are, nearly one hundred percent better.”

Dora nodded in agreement and decided to take advantage of the situation. “Well, then. You have a gift from Spirit, and that should be shared, not kept. I would like to create some flyers and promote your services through my holistic center.”

Joe thought about it for a moment, pursed his lips and inhaled deeply. It would be nice to make some cash off of this, but he knew how some of these reiki practitioners frowned upon making money with their gifts. The holistic center depended on donations for meetings, classes, and seminars to continue running, but those who could not afford to pay were not turned away. Joe maintained that regardless of who came, if they were unable to donate, they would still receive treatment.

“All right, let’s do it.”

Master Ravenwood started a career, and made history.

The holistic center tripled its attendance in just under a month. From there, she leased the empty office next door in order to handle the shear number of guests and members that were now standing outside the doors waiting to be seen by Master Ravenwood.

They were noticed. People of influence and those who stood in judgment began to watch and wait, taking notes and sending people into the holistic center to gather more information on members and especially, Master Ravenwood.

One of the leaders of this movement was none other than Rev. Donahue, a rich minister with influences that fingered their way into the entire state and beyond. Rev. Donahue had a reputation for removing anything “ungodly” from the city with protests and letters written to everyone in government that could be contacted and to those who would listen. His methods of using the media for attention, and to spread fear or testimony on matters of sin or un-Godly acts, were shrewd and effective.

In his eyes, Master Ravenwood was nothing more than a fraud, bought and paid for by Satan himself. The kindly reverend was determined to prove this and cause Master Ravenwood to disappear and repent. After all, in his mind, only Rev. Donahue could heal people, as the power was given to him by God, not by Satan. He wanted to make sure the money came to his church, not to some godless new age worshippers.

Dora could no longer afford the vast number of people who filled the center to capacity, most of who could not afford a donation. Cited for improper zoning, over capacity, and improper licensing, Dora had no choice but to discontinue Master Ravenwood’s program. She knew the only reason she was cited was because Rev. Donahue never liked her holistic center in the first place. With his church just blocks away, he slung accusations about her use of Satan’s influence to draw people away from his church. She always ignored his ranting, but was unable to do so anymore. Six months later, they forced Master Ravenwood out of the holistic center and into a run down office building to continue his work.

“What have you got against healing, Reverend?” Joe stated as he stood in Rev. Donahue’s office doorway.

He looked up from his paperwork and smiled slightly. “You must be Ravenwood?” Joe nodded. “Well, Mr. Ravenwood, as we all know, only God can heal.”

Joe moved into the office, speaking loud enough as to let the office workers overhear. “Reverend Donahue. God, in whatever language or culture you wish to call Him, has His…or Her, own reasons for choosing those who can heal or be healed.” Joe glanced around at the awards and certificates littering the office. “Who are you to question God’s motives?”

Rev. Donahue chuckled. He also glanced around at his awards as if to answer. “I am a man of God, He speaks through me. And he has told me what you do is not from Him.”

Joe could only smile and shake his head. “Reverend. You are playing me under the assumption I am one of your sheep. I am not. Just because I do not adhere to your beliefs, doesn’t mean I cannot do the things I do. Haven’t you ever heard that God works in mysterious ways?”

“None of what God does is a mystery to me, young man.”

“Oh, I see. Isn’t pride or arrogance one of the seven deadly sins?”

Rev. Donahue turned red. He stood up quickly, nearly hitting the wall with the chair. “Listen to me, Mr. Ravenwood. People, loyal to this church and to God, are the only one’s whom God, can heal, through me. Without His blessing, all others will suffer his wrath for working under Satan’s influence.”

Joe smiled back at him again and snorted. This conversation was pointless. He wanted the healing business for himself and Joe was a threat to that, plain and simple. “Well, Reverend, I guess that’s what makes me different from you. I will heal anyone who needs it, not just your church members or other Christians. If that makes me wrong, then so be it.” He spun on his heel and walked out without looking back. He managed a small grin as he nodded goodbye to the office workers.

Rev. Donahue walked out into the lobby and watched the workers carefully. “I need the zoning information on the Randolph street district.”

It took all that I had left to fall asleep.

The voices. Ever present and always loud had finally reached a peak. At least it wasn’t getting any worse. Now the voices mixed with my dreams. Some voices were linked to faces, others just echoed in the darkness. The faces I recognized. They were all those who I healed. The other voices? Perhaps patients yet to come? I didn’t know. All I could do was guess and make irrational judgments – it was difficult to come up with answers on faith alone.

I slept pretty hard, but fitfully. When I woke, I felt better, although I still felt as though I had just finished an exercise routine. I rolled over slowly, not wanting to get up. I grimaced and groaned as the light filtering in from the morning sunlight reflected off of Kristen’s bare skin. I don’t remember climbing in to bed with her the night before.

“Morning love.” I managed to say in a hoarse voice. Kristen smiled at me, eyes still closed.

“It’s taking a toll on you.” She said as her smile faded. “Why don’t you take a break?”

I ground my knuckles into my eyes and slowly shook my head. “I can’t. Not yet. I finally realized what the voices are, though.”

Kristen opened her eyes and lifted her head off the pillow. She moved closer to me and cradled my head against her chest. “What?”

“It’s them,” I started. “The one’s I have healed. And the ones yet to be healed maybe.”

“Like a premonition?”

“More like, destiny.” I said raising my hands dramatically, and paused for her reaction. I didn’t have to see her to know she was raising her right eyebrow at me and rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. “I know, it sounds cornball.”

Kristen shook her head. “No, actually…it makes sense. How many voices would you say you are hearing?”

It was too early to do math. My head felt clouded and I desperately needed my coffee. “I don’t know. Hundreds?”

“You have already healed hundreds. Perhaps you are nearing the end of what needs to be done?”

I sat up in bed. Shook my head clear and turned to face her. “That’s it. I reached a peak of voices, and slowly, the one’s that have been healed I know longer hear.” I stopped myself, not wanting to build up any apprehensions. “But, what’s next? Or is it just a lull…”

I was cut off by a loud knock at the door.

“Mr. Ravenwood? The police are here to see you.” The voice sounded like his aide, Danny Sizeman. Danny had been his assistant for over year, booking appointments and talking with potential media connections. An older, quiet man, Danny was unassuming and a hell of a typist.

“Mr. Ravenwood?” The knocks were louder and he could hear several voices outside the door.

“I’m coming.”

Joe opened the door slowly, still adjusting his robe. “What can I do for you?” Joe noticed the aide standing behind several well-dressed men, his head hung low.

“Mr. Ravenwood? We are with the county Marshall’s department. We have to place you under arrest for practicing medicine without a license.”

“So, the good Reverend had his way, huh?” Joe countered to the clerk at the Marshall’s office.

“Mr. Ravenwood, the accusation against you is that you are using medicinal treatments for your patients to treat their illnesses. Where are you getting the medicines?”

Joe raised his hands and then pointed to himself. The clerk stared at him blankly, still waiting for an answer. Joe rolled his eyes and sat forward. “I don’t use medication. I use … reiki.”

“So you use herbs and such?” The clerk leaned forward and badly suppressed a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be one of those witches or something?”

“Uh, no. Just reiki. Or something like it. No herbs. No magic.” Obviously flustered, Joe raised his hands stiffly and sat back in the chair.

“Well, Mr. Ravenwood, I don’t pretend to know about all this new age voodoo, but I know a lot of so-called holistic healers do make use of Chinese herbs.”

“Take a blood test from any of my patients. You will not find drugs, alcohol, or herbs of any kind in there. Unless they take them on their own, and you can see a doctor’s note or grocery receipt for that. I don’t need to prescribe anything to them. I help them heal, that’s all.”

The clerk wrote something down on her paperwork and nodded. “We will do just that. For now, you are to be cited and released.” She looked up over her bi-focals at Joe. “And you are forbidden to practice your…healing, until after your court date.”

Joe scowled. He knew they couldn’t prevent him from healing people. This was a direct violation of church and state; the government tried to step in and outlaw his spirituality and the acts of Spirit.

Rev. Donahue obviously has his hands in everybody’s pockets.

“Fine. I will see you in court, then. Remember the constitution? You are violating my rights.”

The clerk removed the citation from its pad and laid the pen down as she gestured for Joe to sign. Joe scribbled his signature and tossed the pen down. Without looking up, the clerk tore a copy from the citation and handed it to Joe. “Court date is set for March 16th at 8:00am.”

Joe walked out of the office in long strides, not looking back, struggling with the temptation to throw the paper in the trash; but thought better of it. He would fight this in court and make people aware of the treatment he received. The newspapers would have a great story to tell. He shoved the paper into his back pocket and pushed open the lobby door.

“What’d they say?” Kristen said as she put out her cigarette. Joe lit one for himself.

“They are mixing church and state here. We have to win this case as an example.”

“What did they say?” She repeated.

“I have a court date to contest whether or not I was using medication to treat the patients.”

“What? That’s stupid; all they have to do is a blood test to realize they weren’t given any medication.” Kristen lit another cigarette. “Besides, herbs and tinctures don’t fall under the FDA. What kind of case do they think they have?”

“I know. The clerk claims they are going to do that. Somehow we have to keep a really close eye on those tests.” Joe said as he took a drag.

“You suspect that someone will induce some medication into the tests?”

“Yep. I had a little talk with Rev. Donahue not too long ago, and he seemed bent on preventing me from healing people. His fingers are pretty far up a lot of people’s asses.”

Kristen snickered a little. “You think he has that much influence?”

“I don’t know…guess we’ll find out. Is your brother-in-law still with the sheriff’s office?”

“Yes.”

“Good. He knows the situation, right?” Kristen nodded. “Then let’s see if he can help us watch over the blood test process. Just to make sure it’s on the level.”

“I’ll call him right now.”

Resolve

It wasn’t long before his lifestyle caught up with him. Making a good living off the church provides for high fat diets and a lot of alcohol. Being pious is easy. Being a philanthropist was hard. Being poor and helping the people…out of the question.

Rev. Donahue lay unconscious in the hospital after his stroke. His doctors warned him to start dieting and monitoring his blood pressure which had risen to dangerous levels. He ignored them and assured the doctors that God would watch over him and prevent any harm from befalling him. The doctors insisted, even after his dizzy spells, but nothing fazed the good Reverend.

Rev. Donahue’s wife sat in a chair beside his bed, holding his hand and reading a copy of Glamour magazine when the man at the door knocked lightly.

“Oh, please…come in.” Nancy Donahue motioned as she stood to meet Master Ravenwood halfway. “Thank you SO much for doing this.”

Joe looked upon the comatose body of the Reverend. “I haven’t done anything yet.” Joe said quietly.

“Oh but you must. You have been given a gift. I am paying you a lot of money to…” Joe raised his hand to cut her off.

“Mrs. Donahue. You seem to be under the impression that I owe you,” he nodded towards Rev. Donahue, “And him…anything. As for the money, I don’t usually require a fee, other than donations.”

“Please.” Mrs. Donahue began. She reached out for Joe’s hands. Joe reluctantly let her hands touch his. “You must. I know he has said some awful things about you, but, he…” She turned away, choosing her words.

“…is selfish? Greedy?”

She turned and glared at Joe. “All right, if you wish. Regardless, he has done a lot for this community. You can’t deny that.”

Joe nodded with his eyes staring at the ceiling. “Yes, but, only to get his name in lights and a pat on the back from the governor.”

Mrs. Donahue seemed to be losing her patience. “Mr. Ravenwood. I do not care what your opinions are of my husband’s work. But don’t pretend to me to be a … healer, who comes from a place of Spirit, when you turn your back on those in need.”

“You are right.” Joe sighed in agreement. “Do you think good Reverend would allow me to heal him, given his beliefs? I would prefer getting his permission before doing any healing. He does hold the belief that my healing ability does not come from God.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Mrs. Donahue said with confidence. “I know about the hospital you worked at and the miracle recoveries that occurred there. How many patients gave you their permission at that hospital?”

“True, but your husband’s beliefs are well known as are his opinions of me.” But Joe knew she was right. He had already proven in court that his healing abilities were real, and done without medication. It took the last of his savings, a chunk of his life and many lives were lost because he was unable to heal for almost three months before the court date. Perhaps this in of itself, will make things right. Healing is always the right thing to do. Isn’t it?

“Very well. I will help him. But…” Joe stopped her in mid-smile. “You will not tell him that I healed him. Nor shall you tell him that he was healed by anyone other than his God. Clear?” She nodded. “I am going to hold you to that, Mrs. Donahue. And I have witnesses.”

Kristen walked into the room and nodded to her. Mrs. Donahue looked defeated and nodded to both of them. “Very well. I just think credit should be given where it’s due.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but we are agreed, yes? Excuse me, while I go and help your husband.”

Kristen motioned for Mrs. Donahue to follow her out of the room. She hesitated, looked at her husband, then at Master Ravenwood who waited for her to leave. She nodded and followed Kristen out into the hallway. “Master Ravenwood works alone.”

A year later, offers for worldwide healings, peace councils, ecology conferences, and even military tactical meetings came in from all over. Master Ravenwood became a household name and everyone in the media wanted a piece of the “Miracle Man”. Appearances on magazines, talk shows, and even a reality series were on virtually every channel on television. Not surprisingly, there were even rumors of movie rights.

“This has gotten out of hand.” Joe threw the partnership papers from the Red Cross onto the floor. “Why is everything about making money, or getting their name in lights?”

Kristen picked up the papers and put them in the box where the other proposals were kept. She sat back down on the couch and watched him for a moment. “Maybe this is a great chance to make some real changes in the world. Bring peace to all the countries in conflict?”

Joe huffed and shot a glance at her. “Sure, if I was running for Miss America.” Kristen grimaced at his retort and then giggled slightly.

Joe sat next to her and gave a puzzled glance in her direction as he removed his shoes. “I doubt that this would bring peace to everyone. I have dignitaries from all over wanting special healings done for them. Nothing is ever said about the rest of their people – just them. Even the president wants to hire me to be his personal healer. Said it was my duty as a patriot and citizen of the United States.” Joe tossed his shoes into a corner and sat back, deep into the couch. “How do I continue? Where do I draw a line?”

“Who says you have to draw a line?” Kristen said waving her hand. “Forget about world peace. Just think of how many people can be helped.” She paused, as if catching herself in the middle of falling and her eyes lit up and she opened her mouth. “Joe.” She began slowly, a look of intent on her smile. “Have you ever thought about…passing on your gift?”

Joe sniffed and looked at her incredulous. “Done what? Not that I’m aware of.”

Kristen shifted her body around on the couch, propping her left leg up so she could face him. “I think now is a good time to try. Obviously, you cannot help seven billion people in your lifetime. How about an apprentice?”

Joe scratched his chin, rubbing the two-day stubble with a slight rasping noise. He sniffed again and looked down at his hands for a moment, almost as if he was picturing the process. “Do you think it can be done?”

Kristen nodded with enthusiasm. “What you do is energy. Regardless of how you do it and what the results are, it’s energy. Energy can be moved or regulated, using the proper equipment.” She gestured towards his hands.

Now she sounds like a scientist rather than a spiritualist.

“OK. Let’s say this works. Who can we trust to pass this on?”

“Let’s see if it can be done at all. Try passing it on to me.”

Joe squinted at her as if trying to read her face like a book. He searched for her motivations, not knowing why her sudden interest in obtaining his gift. She had always been supportive, encouraging, and understanding, but not once did she state she wished she had the gift.

“Are you sure about this? You’ve seen what I go through.”

Kristen nodded again and smiled, her eyes as bright as ever. Joe smiled back, and left all concern aside, not caring why, but simply recognizing the offer for what it was – her gift to him. No longer would he have to bear the brunt of healing requests, media, and voices in his head. He could share this with the one person he knew would understand and appreciate it for what it was – and whom he could trust the most.

“All right, let’s do it.”

“What do you want me to do?” She asked with a whispered voice, almost as if she was out of breath from running around the block.

“I…I’m not sure. I guess my intentions will do it, just like when I am doing a healing. Lay down.” He stood and offered the couch to her. Kristen stretched out across the couch and closed her eyes, still smiling. “Don’t smile…I don’t know what this is going to do…”

The World

Almost ten years after Joe and Kristen’s handfasting, more than one hundred thousand people, all healers, moved through the world and healed the sick and injured; one person at a time. Master Ravenwood still participated in healings, but directed more of his fellow healers in the art as he passed his gift on to them.

Joe finally realized from where most of the voices in his head came. Aside from his patients, the voices faded and eventually stopped altogether when he passed the healing power to the last of the one hundred thousand, four hundred and forty-four healers that now spanned the globe. The voices he heard were those who had the heart and soul to become a healer. Their destiny had been planned for this lifetime by the Universe itself. Through his own insight, and that of Kristen’s, they met those who became the healers through meetings, healing sessions, and even in the crowds of people that followed. No requests for healers or ads in the media were needed. They came as if called without their knowledge.

A new form of reiki was born from Master Ravenwood. Not the one that Eastern practitioners are familiar with, but one that needed no symbols taught, no attunements done, no payments exchanged. A simple visualized thought, intent, the act, and the will completed the actual attunement. Ever wary of those who would take advantage of such power, Master Ravenwood screened each and every being who wished to obtain the gift. A new lineage, soon to be passed on from those who now practiced the healings to the next generation. Indigo and Crystal children began learning the craft without effort. Their lives too, had been forged in the Universe.

Kristen also healed many people. She remained close to Joe’s side, both of them giving seminars, attunements, and instruction on the gift of healing. Thousands flocked to their seminars and vied for the opportunity to be given the gift of healing. Among his healing talents, Joe discovered he had pre-cognitive abilities. He could sense the world around him and anticipate many events and actions. He was able to scan people, read their heart and know if they were trustworthy and honorable. This ability seemed to be his alone and did not get passed on to other healers, even if he wished it to be. He first learned this when he attempted to pass on the ability to Kristen and it did not work.

Although there was still conflict and suffering in the world, people from many nations and cultures embraced this new healing as a sign from their divine influence. Nancy Donahue could not resist sharing how the good Rev. was healed, and eventually, he too, gave thanks and embraced Joe’s gift. Rev. Donahue still insisted that God worked through him and Joe, however; and Joe accepted this for what it was – a divine gift by any Name.

Now that there were enough healers in the world, that disease and injury were at an impasse, suffering at a standstill, more nations came together to talk peace and for the first time, approached other nations with integrity in their hearts. They did not know for sure from where or from whom Master Ravenwood received his gift. To most, it was a divine message and a new messiah from a divine being.

To Master Ravenwood, he was just Joe.