Man In White

It was a bomb. Not a particularly big one, but one big enough to shatter a window. 

The war had been going on for a couple of years. People had to move every few days because of bombs destroying their new place of shelter. Even if it wasn’t a house, eventually, they knew, it would be destroyed. Charity’s family had thought they would have been able to survive underground with the millions of others taking refuge. In the year of 2089, the war hit. There were people who had predicted this and gone underground. By the time the bombs came, there was almost an entire country under there. There were churches, hospitals, and even an old folks home. Since it was underground, it was cooler, and people didn’t exactly need any fridges or even freezers. 

But one bomb escaped.

It was Sunday night. Charity and her family had just come home from church. It was a bright day. Very hot and humid, not exactly a normal temperature for late September. 

No one noticed. No one saw. No one could have, because it was over in an instant. 

As Charity began to get ready to go to bed, she decided that she wanted to play with her toys a little bit more, since no one was actually telling her to put them away. She pulled out her doll out of the toy box and headed over to the box which held her plastic tea set. She grabbed the box and opened it up. 

Suddenly, Charity heard a faint whistle, like she had heard her dad make when he would imitate something falling. Except it felt like it was coming from outside. Not a second later, the glass shattered in her face and she was thrown across the room. The entire window was gone in an instant. Her mom screamed and ran to Charity’s side. Charity’s mom began to scream for her dad, who came rushing in. Charity’s face was burnt and cut, and glass was embedded into her skull. Her dog was barking and kept trying to lick Charity’s face, but her parents kicked him away as they ran to the door.

They rushed to emergency care, but they’re old vehicle did not go as fast as they needed it to. They prayed out loud and tried to wake Charity up, but she would not respond. She was alive though, and that’s all that mattered at the moment.

Her dad carried Charity through the doors, and they were greeted by nurses and doctors who took one look at her and grabbed Charity out of her dad’s arms. Her mom and dad followed the nurses, who then took Charity to an operation room. The two then were told they could not come any further. 

After about 5 hours, Charity’s mom and dad were called. They were informed that Charity’s skull had been cracked open, but that they had used staples to get it back together, and that she would be okay. There had been no signs of any other trauma, but that her face would have scars that would never quite go away. 

As Charity’s parents made their way to her room. Charity began to stir awake. She laid there, not being able to move, but remembered the pain. She could feel the burns and cut on her skin, and could see that her arms and legs had been wrapped up. She felt uncomfortable and itchy, and a shock of pain traveled through her body whenever she attempted to move. A nurse peaked her head in and made eye contact with Charity, then looked like she was saying something while her face lit up. Charity was confused, because when she spoke, Charity heard nothing. The nurse looked confused for a moment, then her face changed to concern. She grabbed a piece of paper and began to scribble something. She then held up a piece of paper that read,”Can you understand me?” 

Charity shook her head, a tear welling up in her eye,

“I..can’t..hear ..you.”

The nurse left the room in a hurry, then came back a moment later with a doctor. The doctor checked her ears with a strange tool that tickled her ear. He then looked at the nurse, and nodded. She then left. A couple moments later her parents ran into the room, her mom grabbing her face and examining her. They kept asking her questions, but Charity could not hear them, and she could not hear her mother’s voice breaking as she blamed herself and cursed herself for leaving her alone in the room. 

The doctor told them that because of the severity of the impact, Charity’s eardrums popped, and she could not hear anymore. Her mother dropped on the floor and held her face against the blankets, grabbing them until her knuckles turned white.

Charity looked at her mom with tears in her eyes. She slowly reached out her hand toward her and put her hand on her cheek.

“Mommy..don’t..cry..”

Her mom grabbed her hand, letting it comfort her slightly before getting up and leaving the room. Her dad ran after her.

A few weeks later, Charity was allowed to leave the hospital. She had made a full recovery and her head had healed nicely. Charity had begun to learn sign language in the hospital, which really helped her to communicate better with her family. 

When they came home, Charity was swarmed all over by their dog, Prank, who licked her all over her scars and she played with him until she was so tired she couldn’t open her eyes anymore. As her parents tucked her to bed, with her dog sleeping silently beside her, her mom picked up a book from the bookshelf and sat down in her rocking chair. Just as she was about to read, Charity saw her and reminded her in sign language,”I can’t hear you read.” Her mom felt dumb, but Charity quickly signed,” Don’t cry.”

Her mom smiled and got up to give her one last goodnight kiss on the forehead before leaving. She left the door open a crack as she left the room. Charity lay there for a bit. She began to think about why she was the one who was injured. Why her? Why not someone else? Why only one bomb? Now she couldn’t listen to mom’s stories anymore. Now she couldn’t listen to singing, music, the dialogue on TV, or conversations. She began to get angry and started to cry bitter tears of mourning.

“Why..why..why” she repeated over and over again until she knew that it didn’t even sound like she was saying why anymore. She had forgotten the sound of her own voice.

“Don’t cry, now.”

Charity heard a voice on the other side of the room. She felt frightened but couldn’t scream. 

“Don’t be frightened.” The man came closer and knelt beside her bed.”I am your friend.”

“Why can I hear you? Is this a dream? Am I dreaming?”

The man shook His head,”No, you are not dreaming. I’m sure you’re wondering what is going on. I can assure you, you are safe.”

His voice felt soft and full of love, like He knew who she was,”I can..hear my voice.”

“Yes. You were beginning to forget the sound of your own voice. You’re going to be okay.”

Charity squinted but couldn’t see the man’s face, for the light was against Him.

“Would you like it if I read you a story?”

Charity’s eyes lit up.”Really? Are you sure? I mean, my mom was about to but..”

“But you could not hear.”

Charity began to tear up again. The man grabbed her hand,”Do not cry. I just want to read to you. I didn't mean to make you sad.”

“No.. I’m okay.” she wiped the tears away with both her hands.”Please read me a story.”

She could not tell from the darkness, but the Man seemed to smile. He got up and picked out a book seemingly at random and sat down in the rocking chair that her mom always used to sit in to read stories.

Charity enjoyed every moment that the Man read. Every voice he did for the characters was unique and seemed to fit the character perfectly. He seemed to enjoy it too, and, before she knew it, the story was over and the Man had gotten up to put the book away. As He tucked Charity back into bed, Charity thought about how strange this Man was for coming into her room in the middle of the night and reading her stories.

“Are You coming back tomorrow?” Charity asked, a hint of eagerness in her voice.

The Man knelt down beside her, hands in His lap.”I will be here, but not like this. You will not be able to see Me or hear Me like you did today. You may even have doubts. But I want you to know that I will never leave any of My children alone.”

Charity looked up at Him, sad but somehow understanding everything that He was saying.

“Okay. I will know that You are here.”

The Man stood up and sat in the rocking chair. He began to sing the sweetest, most beautiful tune that Charity had ever heard. She fell asleep in a couple of minutes to the song.

In the morning, she wiped her eyes. She realized that they were wet. She had cried in her sleep. “How strange..” she said,”I wonder who that Man was..”

Charity heard steps coming up the stairs. Her mom came into the room and signed for her to begin to get ready and that her breakfast was getting cold. 

Charity signed “okay” back and began to change. As she was brushing her hair, she realized just then that she could hear the brush going through her hair. She could hear the birds outside her window.

“Mom! Mom! I can hear!” she screamed and ran down the stairs, nearly tripping over the stairs and being caught in her mom’s arms at the bottom of the stairs. Her mom kept questioning but Charity could hardly talk she was so happy.They both sobbed until they felt they had run out of tears. Charity’s father was at work so he couldn’t participate in the celebration until later on.

“It was the Man! The Man healed me!”

Her mom loosened her grip and looked at her daughter curiously.”The Man? What man? Was there a man in your room last night? Why didn’t you tell us? He could have-”

“But mom He was a nice Man! He read me stories and sang me to sleep. He didn’t do anything mean and then I woke up later and my hearing is back!”

Her mom was immediately extremely skeptical. She had the men next door check Charity’s room and check for any sign of breakin. None were found, which baffled Charity’s mom all the more.

“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming, honey?” her mom asked, knowing full well that Charity’s ears never could have healed overnight, or at all.

“No, mom. It was clear as you are standing here right now.”

Her mom still was worried and decided it must have been a ghost or a spirit. But then how did her daughter's ears become healed? She was so puzzled and couldn’t make heads or tails of anything. 

When Charity’s father came home, the celebration began again. More hugging, kissing, and tears than before.

That evening, as she took out the family Bible, Charity took it from her hands and turned to a story in Mark where Jesus had healed a deaf man. Charity gave back the Bible and sat down beside her mom. “Read it, mom.”

Her mom began at the beginning of the chapter, but Charity pointed to near the end of the chapter and said,”Read here.”

She looked curiously at her daughter,”Alright, I’ll start there.” 

She cleared her throat and began.” And again, departing from the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, he came unto the sea of Galilee, through the midst of the coasts of Decopolis, and they bringing unto him one that was deaf, and had an impediment in his speech; and they beseech him to put his head upon him. And he took him inside the multitude, and put his fingers in his ears, and spit, and touched his tongue; and looked up into heaven, he signed, and said unto him,”Ephphatha”, that is,”Be opened.” And straightway his ears were opened, and the string of his tongue loosed, and he spake plain.”

Charity then put her hand on her mom’s and looked up at her,”That’s what happened to me. The doctors said that my eardrums were better, right? Jesus came to my room and healed me.”

For a second Charity’s mom promised that she saw a flash in the corner of her eye of a Man dressed in white.