Graphic © I G Kahler 2002

He never heard the deafening explosion of the lightning bolt. For a split second he felt the wave of energy, lifting, propelling him backwards……

His conscious mind suddenly free from it’s fleshly bearer, floated just above the scene, as a neutral observer with no connections. A blank page waiting to be written. Only a sense of wonder at the observed surroundings existed.

As if in slow motion he watched as the white-hot streak from the heavens enter the top of the figures head, flinging him backwards from the tall aluminum ladder he had been standing on, while the energy exited both feet, blowing his smoldering shoes off. He saw the figure slam into the ground, the body jerking and convulsing from the muscle contractions………..

Red lights flashed, sirens screamed, men in white jackets loaded the limp figure into the ambulance. As if connected by an invisible leash, the conscious followed into the ambulance, still observing in wonderment……the men’s voices with the siren’s scream continuing……..Oxygen!……..I V…..EKG………CLEAR!……the limp figure would jerk each time………..CLEAR!……..a jagged line on the small monitor……removed from the ambulance……..more people, all talking at once, some yelling orders to others…….the conscious followed, observing from just above as the crowd quickly moved down the corridor to another room filled with instrumentation…….more jagged lines, people talking, always talking………..later, new people came, dressed differently, crying, all crying. Still no sense of recognition to the observing conscious but…….something vague, familiar?….fascinating!

4 months later

“Mr. Travis has been comatose for four months now” said the Doctor into the phone receiver. “There has been no response to the neural tests. The Research Foundation would like to perform surgical exploratory of the brain before discontinue life support. Two more weeks and the family will sign the release forms? Excellent!”

The observing conscious had no concept of the passage of time. Day after day, night after night the same people would come and go, making routine checks.

During daytime the other familiar people would come and try to speak to the prone figure, with no response, as always they would cry………

One night everything changed when she came into the room. A very small and young girl, quite different from all the others. Her skin was so pale, almost transparent white. He could see the tiny blue blood veins and vessels just beneath the surface of her thin skin. Her fine thin strands of light brown hair fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were so bright, emerald green, as if tiny lamps glowed in each one. They were filled with a look of wonder and pure innocence.

“Hello” she beamed with a radiant smile “ I’m Moon Child, would you like to take a walk with me? I’ll show you the most magical place in the world!”

A sense of question and wonder filled him as he realized she could see him and speak to him.

She wore a full length white nightgown with designs of blue flowers around the neckline. Cradled safely in her left arm was a small brown stuffed bear with a pattern of musical note symbols decorating the front of it.

“This is Moonlight!” she said as she extended her right hand to him. He instinctively reached out and took her hand in his. He looked in a sense of amazement at the tiny white hand, it felt warm and he could feel her faint pulse beating through the thin skin. She giggled at his reaction, “come along” she spoke as she led him out the door . He followed down the long corridor at the end of which was a doorway, closed with red tape and white lettering prohibiting it’s use. She led him as they glided through the door into a fantasy world………

It was night with a full moon overhead. A pathway wound it’s way through a strange garden, with all sorts of exotic blooming plants lining both sides of the ancient pathway, worn smooth by it’s use through the ages. She giggled her wee impish laugh and said “See! I told you! Come along!” Farther down the path were hundreds of varying colors of butterfly’s, flitting from flower to flower in the incandescent light of the full overhead moon.

“Watch!” she said as she held out her hands to have the covered with butterfly’s , dancing in circles and fluttering their wings. She laughed gleefully “their feet tickles” she said as she renewed with another burst giggling laughter. “Here” she said extending her butterfly laden hands toward him. He offered his hands palms up as a half-dozen of the winged creatures flitted to his palms, resuming their graceful circular dancing. Their tickling feet brought a stir to his insides, he felt himself smile.

As they wandered hand in hand down the path they came to an opening where swirls of mist danced in the moonlight. In the midst of the ethereal beauty of the flowers, butterfly’s and mist were the abutment piers of a bridge. It was most eloquently designed with carvings in the piers and along the hand rails. He noticed a plaque inset into one of the piers, a carved music sheet, elaborately decorated with the words at the top “MOONLIGHT”.

They sat by the end of the bridge and she began to tell him stories. Stories of the Creator, the heavens, the planets, deep oceans and the creatures that dwelt therein, of faraway land with strange creatures that hop on their back legs and carry their young in pouches, other lands with huge animals with gray wrinkled skin and long noses that they drink from……………

Each night she would come and take him back to Moonlight Bridge where they would once again smell the intoxicating scent of the flowers, play with the butterfly’s and more and more stories. What had been a blank page conscious began to fill, pages, chapters, books. The observing conscious began to reason for it’s self, to think to feel emotions……

He watched one day as the family returned to visit, to try to communicate with the comatose figure. As he watched the woman hold the hand of the lifeless figure and watched her tears flow once more, he felt a deep sorrow inside, and then they came in waves ,the memories. He suddenly felt very heavy, a great discomfort of pain throughout his being. He pushed the feelings away only to have them return more and more frequently. He would push them away and long for Moon Child and her nightly visit.

“The family insists on another full neurological workup Dr. before they will sign the release papers”…………

As the Dr. viewed the reports with the lab technicians ……”This is impossible!….are you sure the equipment wasn’t malfunctioning?……….Unprecidented! …more brain activity than possible considering the neural damage……..the brain must have recircuited it’s self somehow…………

Moon Child came as usual that night and again they played in the garden and talked by the bridge, but some how he sensed something was about to change . She stood at the end of the bridge and told him a different story……

She handed the stuffed bear to him, he accepted it, his face a question. “I want you to have him to remember me by.” she said “It is time for me to cross the bridge. You must go back alone.”

He felt he would explode with frustration, fear and every other emotion she had helped him rediscover. For the first time in months he tried to speak “…no….” the sound of his voice came as a dry rasp from vocal chords not used in months. He tried again, louder “…NO!…please Moonchild ….d…d..don’t leave me !” his dried voice crackled in fear and emotion.

:You will be O K now.” she smiled “..we will meet again when it comes your time to cross the bridge.” she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “ good bye and be strong.”

He felt himself being pulled, drawn backward down the path. He tried to resist, to no avail , his voice rasped again and again, “….no….NO….come back…”

He felt as if he had been suddenly slammed back into his body at great speed. The sense of heaviness was intense and the dull ache and pain throbbed with every beat of his heart. The light in the room was blinding,….peoples voices…..hands on him…..he realized he was struggling against his confinements. Quickly exhausted from months of inactivity, mercifully he lapst into semi-conscious state.

He awoke to the Dr.’s voice and the dull throb of pain. “Welcome back to the land of the living Mr. Travis. We’ve notified your family ,they are on their way. You’re some what of a modern miracle, you were struck by lightning four months ago……

“Where is she?” he rasped

“Who?” asked the Doctor

“Moon Child……..where…..”

He awoke later , two nurses were adjusting his monitors and talking, thinking he was still asleep. “What a rush this morning, huh? At the same time Mr. Travis awoke the leukemia patient flatlined.”

“The little Bridges girl?”

“Yes, Monica Bridges, the one we called Moon Child. So sad ,and tragic, only six…..

“What’s this? “ bending down to pick something up from the floor, “this looks just like the one…..

“Mine!” he said hoarsely, “ a farewell gift…” reaching for the stuffed bear ,taking it and clutching it to his chest with all his diminished strength. Waves of cold chills washed up and down the nurses bodies……..

Tears, seemingly scalding hot to the insides of his eyelids began to flow from long dormant tear ducts. His chest began to heave in great wailing sobs, in between the nurses heard him say weakly, “….thank you Moon Child……..for bringing me home…….goodbye for now……..Moonlight bridge………..

© Mysticwolf 2002

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