Something woke her—powerful, sub-vocal. A call, a command: Now. Across the dimly lit room, she saw his head drooped awkwardly against the pebbled plastic rail, and she rose and, gently, for movement meant pain, lifted him and laid him softly back. She stood beside him, silent, waiting.
Be present. Bear witness. His eyes, bottomless black pools, veiled that long night by sleep, veiled too long by pain, opened. He sat up, and his hand rose, outstretched, reaching. Instinctively, she grasped his hand and held it wordlessly.
Slowly he lay back down, black pools open and alert, a look on his face almost of elation, of bliss. Breath now drawn in, deep-filling his chest, and out—his hand loosed, his body eased, his face relaxed.
Breath, softer now, in. . .just a memory, a reflex, and out, a last leave-taking to a well-loved, well-used and familiar friend, my old home. Still then: soft-breath in, so soft, almost silent, almost sacred. It is finished. Soft. . .out. . .out, free, free-released, free.
His mother waited, watching it end. Outstretched, his hand fell, finally, to rest. She bore unflinching witness. THERE IS A REAPER
There is a Reaper Description:
FIVE-YEAR-OLD CHRISTOPHER AARON has always been a whirlwind of heroic action, leading his brothers into all sorts of youthful mischief. A mysterious illness suddenly plunges him and his family into a frightening nightmare of hospitals and doctors and extreme therapies far from his small-town home.
Can his doctors diagnose his strange disease? How will he and his family adapt to a bizarre new world they have been thrust into? Heart-wrenching, searing, and powerful, There is a Reaper immerses the reader into Christopher’s intense struggle against his pitiless foe as he matures and transforms in the white heat of his epic battle.
