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are you? Some kind of a counselor trained to work with the comatose?” Mark paused.
    “I’m sorry for all the questions but I’m desperate. I was even asking God for help and I’m not all that certain He exists. Then you showed up but you haven’t exactly eased my mind. I’m wondering if God isn’t a better option.”
    Zachri did not respond but, all at once, Mark experienced an infusion of calmness. It felt like watching sunlight bathe the earth after the abrupt end of a raging storm.
    “I am a spirit, Mark. Your friend, Janine, who intervened for you, did it through the intensity of her love for you.”  
    That silenced Mark’s mind as though he had been doused with an icy stream of water, but only for a moment. 
    “I don’t know what you mean by spirit but, if Janie contacted you, do you also have some way to get a message to her?”
    Mark wished he could make it an order, but a demand coming from a man who couldn’t even point a finger or raise an eyebrow would be ludicrous
    “Could you, would you, tell Janie and my son that they will hear from me soon?”
     
     

6
AN ANGUISHED WAIT
     
    I e-mailed Martin back; trying to relay at least a touch of assurance, for both of us, that all would be well. 
     
    Thank you very much for contacting me. I haven’t heard from your dad since Friday and I’ve been concerned. This is certainly disturbing news, but at least I now know what’s going on.
    Let’s believe the doctors who are saying that this is temporary.  I thank God that you knew how to reach me, and will keep me informed.
    Be assured that I am fervently praying for his quick recovery. 
    Janine
     
    After clicking on the send button, I almost gave in to fear but then made myself believe that God wouldn’t take Mark so soon after he had come into my life.
    Convincing myself that the bond between us could be interrupted neither by a coma nor the Atlantic Ocean, I tried something I’d read about: mental telepathy. Throughout the day and when I awoke during the long night, I repeated: “Wake up, dear one. I’m at your side.”
    As I fervently repeated this message, I became more assured that Mark would fully recover.
    Even my Catholic nun friends, who had agreed to include him in their daily prayers, seemed similarly encouraged.
    ‘His healing is assured.’ These words became my constant refrain as I prepared to celebrate another family Thanksgiving without a partner.
    I hid my anxiety from my family as I helped prepare the traditional feast.
    Being strong and independent were traits instilled in my siblings and me from my earliest remembrances.
    Several times during the day I sneaked to the computer, hoping to get the message from Martin that his Dad was awake and my celebration could begin. The only messages exchanged between Martin and me that day were brief notes of hope.
    The next evening, I rented some movies to help me escape briefly from the vision of Mark lying still as death. In the movie I chose to watch, ‘City of Angels’, Nicholas Cage portrays an angel who uses his free will to become human, for love of a female doctor, ably represented by Meg Ryan.
    When she is killed in an accident, soon after the angel discards his wings, he doesn’t lament his decision to give up his perfect life in paradise. Instead, he declares: ‘only one moment with her would have been worth the sacrifice.’
    I cried over the angel-turned-human’s plight, but went to sleep thinking about the things Mark and I would do when we were together again.
     
     

MARK TRAVELS BACK
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

7
A BIZARRE PROPOSAL
     
    As Zachri, the strange guest, hovered over Mark, their communication soon showed signs of becoming as dramatic as the movie Janie was watching thousands of miles away.              
    “Mark, our meeting is not accidental. Before I give you details, I want you to think back to some of the greatest challenges of your life. Tell me about some of your