We Were Gods: Oleander: Book One

My Angel

"Ma?" I poke my head into the hospital room and grin; the sun peeks into the room and caresses my mother's face in the most angelic of lights. I can't help but feel excitement at the idea of being the only one in the room with her for once. I've always cherished one on one time with my mother above all else. She was everything I was not.

My footsteps echo gently on polished linoleum, everything seemed to be in slow motion.

I reach out and tuck a grey curled strand behind my mother's tan face; leaning down to press the sweetest of kisses against her forehead. She seems so small in the bed; her fleshy frame swallowed by white sheets and blankets. Everything about her seems peaceful.

I sat on the edge of her bed and she didn't even stir. I grasp a pudgy hand in my own, thumb lovingly stroking the back of her freckled hand. I could see her lines now; her cheeks seemed less full in this moment. Right now I could see the weight my mother had lost though her legs and hands stayed swollen.

She is still beautiful to me though.

I'll fly away O'glory,

I'll fly away in the morning

When I die, Hallelujah by and by,

I'll fly away

I hum that song that she once sang to me and I couldn't help but wonder if she could hear me now as she sleeps. It is a lovely song and I feel like it is as close to a "churchy" song as I can get for her. My mother loves hymens and all of that good stuff but I never took much comfort in any of it.

"Oleander?" My heart caught as I looked up from my mother. The heavy French accent was almost familiar but as I took in this short and petite guy I realize that I do not know him. He has dark smudges on his porcelain face, his brown hair cropped to his skinned chin. There's a splash of freckles on his face beneath serious eyes. "I am sorry to bother you but I was wondering how she is doing?" He nods to my mother.

He must be the nurse but he looks far too young to be the nurse.

"She's just resting." I shrug my shoulders and look back to her; my lips cannot keep from smiling when I see her. "She's actually quite peaceful." I look back up and the nurse is now at the bedside.

"Would you mind if I prayed for her?" The nurse asks. I know mother would enjoy that so I get up from the bed and allow him my spot. He grabs mother's hands in his own, small lips uttering quiet words. "Holy Saint Joan, compassionate to the sick and wounded, who, while on earth nursed so many back to health, listens now. She who wished to see no one injured or in discomfort, pray for this woman and guide her through this difficult time. Daughter of God, wounded many times in battle, I petition for the healing of Patricia Lavouie so that she may be better able to serve God in whatever capacity HE wishes. I request an intervention for this woman. It may not be in God's will to heal this body, for her sufferings may help her own soul or another. If my request is not granted I ask that HE help her to remain strong and instead be healed emotionally and spiritually. Amen." He kisses the back of my mother's hand and stands; standing next to me I can really see just how short he is.

"I will let her know you came by... nurse?" I raise an eyebrow at him as he crosses the room to the door.

"Jehanne la Pucelle. And I am not a nurse." He chuckles and my face goes red. This entire time I have been talking to a woman that looks like a feminine man.

"Pucelle?" I cock my head to the side. "Jehanne the maid?"

"You may call me Joan, Oleander. I am certain I will see you both again very soon." She opens the door and steps out into the hall. My breath catches as I race to the door, my bottom lips trembles when I am out in the hall and see no one. There is absolutely no way that she could have hid into another room in that short amount of time.