9 Seconds of Freedom, Original Suspense Fiction, Part Eighteen, links to first 17 parts

“Oh, goodness no, never had one. Didn’t like to be tied down,” Ms. Murphy said. “Well, enough about me, let me see that medallion. I haven’t seen one in so long.”

I held out my wrist, and she leaned in close. She ran her fingers over the raised design.

“I always thought they got it just right,” she said.
“The rosary?” I asked.

“See for yourself,” she said.

She pulled a worn handkerchief out of the pocket of her yellow cardigan sweater and laid it carefully on the table. She unfolded it, one corner at a time, to reveal a delicate pink rosary. It looked identical to the etching on the medallion.

“I was walking home from school. In the winter, you see, we’d cross Hubble’s pond. It was a shortcut, and we could do a little skating too, if Mother didn’t catch us,” she said. “But, I knew never to cross it alone. But that day, Billy had gone home early, so when I fell in, there was no one to help me.”

Her eyes got a far away look. Her voice trembled as she told the story.

“I remember it clear as day. I saw Jesus. He came and stood by me while I floated. At first, I was scared, but once I realized I could breathe, it wasn’t so bad. I even stopped being cold after a while. Then they cut me out.

I’ve never been so glad for a warm fire. I was sick in bed for just days. They thought I might not survive. I heard them talking outside my room,” Ms. Murphy said.

I didn’t want to interrupt her. It was an amazing story to hear firsthand.

She looked worried.

“There was one doctor wanted to take me away. But my father wouldn’t let him. Then, after I’d survived, priests came to ask me questions. They said I might be a miracle, but the pope said no. But, I always knew, it was Jesus that kept me safe,” she said.

“That’s an amazing story,” I said. “I can’t believe I ended up here, working at the same store.”

“The universe,” she said. “Has a funny way of doing that. Putting you just where you need to be, if you let it.”

“Well, unless you’re on the ice on the wrong day,” Leeanne said.

“Nonsense, girl. The scary things in life are the most magical. That’s when we’re closest to the real world. It’s not like this one at all. Things are more permanent there.

Funny, how we think of them as flimsy, in the spirit world, but they go on and on and never change, not like us at all,” she said.

“And, mother told me that what happened to me might not be an official miracle, but it didn’t matter, because so many children were helped because of it, and surely, all those unofficial miracles would mean more than anything the pope could say about what happened to me,” Ms. Murphy said.

She smiled.

“Children? What about children?” I asked.

“Well, you were one of them,” she said.

“I was? How do you know? I thought you didn’t know me,” I said.

“I don’t, but I do know you’re one of us,” she said.

She pulled back the sleeve of her sweater, to reveal an identical medallion around her own arm.

“The only people that ever received this medallion were children who stayed with the Sisters of the Frozen Rosary,” she said.

“Was it a boarding school?” Leeanne asked.

“Oh, no,” she said. “It was an orphanage.”

I looked at Ms. Murphy. An orphan. That felt true.

“But you had parents,” I said. “You talked about them.”

“Well, everyone has parents, silly. You can’t get into this world without them. Mine died. They all do, eventually, one way or another,” Ms. Murphy said. “It was the way mine died that was so peculiar.”

“How did they die?” Leeanne asked.

“They drown. We were driving over a frozen lake, on a bridge. My father hit a patch of ice, and our car plunged into the lake. Only I survived. The doctor said it was my first experience that did it. Taught my body what to do. I was in the water for over an hour when they got to me, but I had air, so that was alright,” the old woman said.

She was getting tired.

Our breakfast arrived, and Annabelle Murphy spread grape jelly on her toast, and smiled as she ate. I was starving. I had an omelet, four slices of bacon and two biscuits, with grape jelly. I smiled. I hadn’t found my identity yet, but I wasn’t alone anymore. There was one person on this earth who’d shared an experience with me, we were both orphans with the Sisters of the Frozen Rosary.

It wasn’t much, but, I had a starting point. I knew not to expect too much. I’d watched enough TV to know what happens when the records burn with a place, it’s damn near impossible to get information. But, at least I knew one place I’d been, one place I’d spent some portion of my life, and suddenly, my lack of memory didn’t seem so final. I was a part of something.

#story #writing #humor #life