Here After

chapter five

Thursday, June 14

 “THE OTHER NIGHT I FELL asleep on David’s bed and had a dream about that day.”

Peter had already told the bereavement group about his attempt to go with his son when he died; and though break-time had come and gone, everyone was urging him on. One woman in particular, dark-haired with brilliant green eyes, had been staring at him the entire time, hanging on every word.

“When I woke up in ICU I couldn’t remember a thing. I thought David was still alive. But even after they told me he was gone, I couldn’t remember what happened in the minutes after he died. I knew there was something, I just couldn’t put it together in my mind.

“The dream fixed that.”

He told them about the strange room, the dark figure he believed had taken David. “It seemed so real. The dream, I mean. And the weird thing was, while I was having the dream, I finally remembered what happened after I injected myself that day. It was as if the dream was a window onto the world I found myself in with David when he died, and hence the only place I could remember what had happened there before. I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

“Perfect sense,” the green-eyed woman said. “Please, go on.”

Peter focused on her and continued. “The thing is, I don’t know whether that room or what happened in it was real or just an hallucination. I did give myself a big dose of morphine, and hallucinations are a common side effect of narcotics.”

“What does your heart tell you?” the green-eyed woman said.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Erika.”

“If you don’t mind, Erika, I think I’ll finish before I tackle that question.”

“Good idea. I’m sorry.”

Peter cleared his throat, uncomfortable but determined to go on. “The dream I had the other night was different. The first time, that figure—death or whatever it was—it came right up to us. And though I didn’t actually witness this part of it, I believe it took David. I was being resuscitated at this point so I can’t be sure. Maybe my so called rescuers took me away from David.” Tears burned his eyes. “Maybe, if they’d left well enough alone, I could have helped him…”

“Peter—”

“Let me finish, Roger. I need to get this out.” Someone handed him a tissue and he wiped his eyes with it. “This time, in the dream, the figure had a face. David asked me if I saw it, but I woke up before I could answer.” He looked directly at Erika. “When I opened my eyes…David was there. Beside the bed, touching me. It was just for a second, but I swear I could feel his hand against mine…”

Erika reached across the table for Peter’s hand, her grip dry and strong. “My Tanya came to me in the same way,” she said. Her daughter had died at seventeen from complications related to mononucleosis. “In a dream…or on the tail of a dream, like you described. She’d been gone nearly six months and I was dreaming about a glorious afternoon we spent together at Cape Cod on her sixteenth birthday, just us girls. My, how we laughed. When I woke up she was sitting on the foot of the bed with her hand on my shin…it felt like butterflies. She was smiling, peaceful. She spoke to me, Peter,” Erika said, her voice breaking a little. “She told me she was happy and that she didn’t want me to be sad anymore. Then she was gone.” She squeezed Peter’s hand. “Your boy’s in a good place. That’s what he was trying to tell you.”

Peter slid his hand away and stood. “I hope you’re right, Erika. I’d give anything to believe it. But my son wasn’t peaceful. He was terrified.