Heaven Above Us
The spring was just coming into bloom, and as Jennifer set little Michael down to run on the open fields, Ryan threw his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His dark eyes held her captive; she loved him so very much. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for this man, this high school love that had become her husband. She closed her eyes and basked in the warm sunlight, feeling his arms holding her safe, listening to young Michael laughing in the distance. She thanked God for giving her such happiness, and as Ryan kissed her cheek she knew that she had everything anyone could ask for.
He backed her up slowly, resting her against the base of a nearby oak tree. She loved how gentle he was with her. Even after so many years of being together he never ceased to be the perfect gentlemen. He smiled at her and blew her a kiss as he walked back to where he had set their basket down. That wicker basket was one of their wedding presents, and they were going to put it to good use this year. He made a flourishing movement as he pulled the blanket out of the top, spinning it around in the soft breeze before letting it come to a rest on the ground. Jennifer held her hands clasped in front of her chest, watching the show her husband loved to put on for her. He brought out two tall wine glasses, but there was no bottle of wine. Neither of them drank. It wasn’t exactly something they condemned, just not something they partook in.
When he had the place all set up she looked to see where little Michael was, making sure he hadn’t run off to far. He was off by the bushes chasing a butterfly around. He looked just like a miniature version of his father, his dark wavy hair a mass upon his head, that same bright smile on his face. She waved at him when he stopped to look back at her, and he giggled and pointed at the butterfly, running off to chase it again.
“C’est parfait,” Jennifer said, holding in her breath as she took in the scene.
“What?”
Ryan didn’t speak French, and ever since Jennifer’s trip to France, she found herself accidentally spouting out random phrases. “I was just saying how perfect everything is.”
He smiled at her again, taking his seat on the ground and patting the space next to him. “Come sit with me.”
The site of him all dressed up in his Sunday best was still the most impressive thing she had seen, even with all her worldly traveling. She wished she had remembered to bring her camera; she was always missing such wonderful photo opportunities. But that was why God gave her eyes, and a good memory. She could record this in her head for further viewing at another time. This was the time to live.
She took a step forward to meet him but stopped when she saw the dark shape out of the corner of her eyes. Something ran into her, and she went sprawling onto the ground. She stopped her head from hitting with her hands, but scrapped them up nicely in the process. What in heavens name was that? She turned her head to see a tall man standing in her spot on the blanket her mother had given to her. He held a long tree branch in his hands, and her eyes grew wide when he lifted it up over his head and brought it down on top of Ryan.
She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t move. It all seemed like a dream, or a nightmare to be more exact. Ryan’s eyes rolled back in his head as the log struck him and she saw the light leave them. His body pitched forward, knocking the basket over and spilling the sandwiches out.
Jennifer closed her eyes and did the only thing she could think of. She prayed. Please God, don’t let this be happening. Don’t’ let Ryan be dead. Don’t let that man be there when I open my eyes. She forced herself to open her eyes back up and saw that the man was indeed still there, kneeling over Ryan’s body.
The fear gripping her chest was replaced by a new feeling. She was furious that this man would come and ruin their happiness. That he dare come and attack them for no good reason. Ryan was the perfect Christian, and he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Why was this happening to them? Why was this happening to her?
She pushed her body up, rising unseen behind the man. There was blood on the blanket her mother had given her. Ryan’s blood. Her eyes took in the deep red and held it there in her mind. The image ran through her body, and she felt her hands tighten into fists. She forced them back open to take up the branch he had discarded, feeling the wood dig into her palms. She was squeezing so tight it was drawing blood, but she didn’t feel it.
She jerked her leg forward and the man had only time enough to spin his head around before the same branch he hit Ryan with came down on his own head. He fell down next to Ryan, laying the opposite way.
When he was down she saw the blood in her hands and got even more upset. This was all his fault. She raised the stick up again and stepped over his body. “How dare you attack us!”
She screamed as she hit him again and again, the blunt end of the branch crashing down on his neck and the back of his head. She used her shoes to dig the heels into his back, and as she felt the tears coming down her cheeks she yelled at him again, redoubling her effort. When her hands were too sore to hold the branch she tossed it aside and jumped on top of the man’s body. She sobbed as she bunched up her fists and slammed them down on the man’s back. Her fury rained out of her mouth in a stream of obscenities she didn’t even know she was capable of saying. Her nails tore away at the man’s shirt and she pressed them into his back.
“Jennifer!”
The voice flooded into her head, and she realized she was struggling against someone. Something was holding her arms back. She blinked her eyes to get the tears free and saw Ryan. Oh thank God. He was still alive. She let her body sag down and wondered what was happening when he took a step back from her. Why wasn’t he comforting her?
There was little Michael, hiding behind his father’s leg. He peeked around the side, and Jennifer held her hand out to him. He closed his eyes and moved back, and that was when she saw the blood. It was covering her hands. Ryan was looking at her like he didn’t even know her. Michael started to cry, and she followed his little eyes over to the body that was lying on the blanket her mother had given her.
There was the man that had knocked her over. The man that had attacked Ryan. But he no longer looked the same. His head was bleeding all over the ground, and his shirt was ripped apart. It looked like a wolf had mauled him, and Jennifer’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands were resting in her lap, and she saw the bloody fingerprints all over her new dress. She looked back at her family and their eyes couldn’t meet hers.
She had become the wolf. She was like a wild animal, and her own family was afraid of her. But she was only protecting them. Didn’t they see that? She searched little Michael’s eyes and saw the terror within. His eyes were all puffed up, and he was clutching his father’s pant leg with a shaking hand. Ryan looked like he was having trouble breathing, and he held one had up to his head where the stick had hit him.
Jennifer fell onto her back, her long hair mingling in with the blood she had spilt. The sun was so bright in the sky, the presence of God was everywhere, but she felt cold inside. Why did this have to happen? Did God abandon her? She felt the sticky blood on her fingers as she traced a cross onto the blanket. Had she abandoned him?
She closed her eyes, trying to bring the smell of spring back into her nose, but the blood was too strong. Her tears came back, and she held her hand over her heart. She prayed to God to bring her back into the light, and waited for the warmth to return.