Back and Beyond 2020

I never used to rate miracles, but the day I actually came back to life changed that. Forever. Now miracles are a given. The sad part was they insisted I must never tell.

‘Don’t ask me to keep a secret,’ I begged. It’s not been easy, even living at this seaside spot where nothing ever happens and no one knows anything. At first, it was like someone else’s deal. As if I was no longer Talitha. Before it happened I’d been a regular, sad sixteen years old.

All weekend, I’d had the worst puking bug ever. Monday started a bit dodgy, with me still feeling rubbish. My radio alarm went off, as usual. It went straight into the news. I hadn’t the strength to reach to shut it up. It was some silly woman banging on about the two goals of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state, needing to coexist. As if I cared! Mum breezed into my room, humming. The talking stopped. That was much better. Her wispy, gliding frame was all that blocked the light as she began to open my curtains.

‘Hey! Leave them shut!’ I protested. She gasped at how rough I looked, and said I could stay off school. The single bonus was that I’d miss all those boring lessons. And no way could I do my dance class, with all that running to the loo stuff still going on.

I had a nice lie-in, though. When Mum realised I was burning up, she gave me paracetamol. ‘You OK? Why not try something to eat?’ She went. I rolled over, I was barely able to lift my head off the pillow, never mind eat. She draped a wet flannel over my forehead, freezing me. In the middle of the afternoon, Dad came up. He began pacing. I felt them standing over me, praying, and that made me jump. Boiling sunlight still blasted in.

Mum felt my head, ‘Arhhh! That hurt!’ That scared her. My head was thumping; everything looked blurry. The high temperature was taking me on some dodgy, out-of-body, trip.

Mum was panicking, ‘This isn’t right. Her temperature’s exploding. Should her eyes look like that?’ Her voice was high pitched.

Dad shook his head, ‘No!’ he croaked. ‘She looks flushed but what more can I do?’ The rustling sound of the pages of his sacred book deafened me. My senses were extreme; I was gagging for iced water.

‘Drink,’ I said but they couldn’t make me out. Suddenly the deafening noise stopped. The pain stopped. I was feeling better. I had the sensation of floating up, in slow motion. It was surreal. I was looking down from the ceiling of the Manse (that’s the name of our weird house). My face went red and blotchy. Everything was well strange.

Mum was shocked. ‘‘Tal, what’s happening?’

As if I knew.

She noticed my hair was manky. ‘This is more than a normal fever!’ Dad’s thickset frame should have made me feel even hotter as he knelt too close. But I couldn’t feel anything. Dad’s chants were intense.

Mum just kept mumbling: ‘Talitha, Talitha!’ Then she burst into tears, quivering uncontrollably, and shook me. After zero response from me, she bit her lip. ‘She’s limp!’ she shrieked at my poor dad.

He kissed Mum’s shaking head, ‘I’m getting help. We need Dr J. I’m off down to the beach.’ My cousin Pete followed him of course. Like a dork with a puny shadow. He was always allowed to do the fun bits. He’d kept well out of my dramatics until then.

‘The doctor’s coming,’ Mum repeated down the phone. He would sort me. Or would he? Shame about all the bad things I’d ever done whirled through my brain. But my thoughts were interrupted by screams and panic, ‘It’s too late!’

Sheila, our nice neighbour came in. ‘I don’t believe it. We must be able to do something.’

Mum saw my relaxed face, as if I’d dropped off. ‘Talitha, don’t go!’ She sounded so desperate. My cruising around the ceiling was interrupted. I watched my body being worked over and breaths being forced into me. Mum and Sheila refused to give up. Bless them.

My heart stopped. ‘She’s slipping away!’ Sheila continued chest compressions whilst Mum gave breaths until she was exhausted.

Mum collapsed. ‘What next?’ With me over and out, it seemed ages until Dr J. made his epic entrance. Dad had also brought three faith soothers with him. He ushered them into my room then rushed over to Mum. She was losing it big time, ripping up her skirt fringe into pieces and wailing that I was too young to die.

It was fascinating seeing me from this angle. I only ever see myself in a mirror, with my eyes open. Now I could see what I looked like when I was asleep; I could see myself as others saw me. Although I was kind of enjoying this, I wanted to get back down there; to look out again, rather than in.

Dr J., dressed in his coolest blue shorts, hugged my mum calmly. ‘Why are you crying?’ He asked. His curly, almost shoulder-length, brown hair was windswept. I could smell the sea spray on it. His dark, warm eyes examined me.

‘Our daughter’s dead,’ Dad explained, sounding wounded.

Dr J. turned slowly to my shell, ‘No, she’s only sleeping.’ Then, he took hold of my hand and told me to get up. His touch left a bizarre tingling sensation. Bring it on!

‘I owe you big time.’ I squeaked.

‘My love, you’re back!’ Mum cried.

Dad grinned. ‘Tal, thank God. You’re alive!’

‘I’m alright, really. You’re the man, Dr J. I’m mended.’ A gasp went around my bedroom.

‘Thanks, you’re a life saver,’ I said.

‘That’s good,’ He said, rubbing my head.

My parents repeated, ‘Thank-you,’ shaking his hand.

‘You must stay for dinner,’ Dad said.

‘Feed your hungry daughter! Enjoy! Sorry, we’ll have to pass,’ said Dr J.

His mate warned everyone to keep what had just happened to themselves. ‘This mustn’t get out or everyone will want a bit of him.’ Dad nodded. ‘Please, just remember him quietly,’ said the soother before he left.

And there began my over protection party. My parents stopped me staying out after dark. Mum tried to pick me up from the bus stop until I protested. May, my best friend, laughed out loud; it was so unfair. Pete had the job of accompanying me and that was quite creepy. He was easy to lose though, being so gullible. As younger cousins go, he was alright, I suppose, but he couldn’t be doing with me getting all the attention right then. His spots were a real turn off; I needed to give some product advice if he was ever to get to know any of my friends.

Later, I asked, ‘If I do so quietly, then can I get my social life back?’ I was pretty desperate. Dad shook his head. ‘You should be grateful, my girl. We mustn’t cause Dr J. embarrassment! Before this happened, I would have not believed his powers, but now he’s earned my respect.’

‘But Dad! What’s up with just telling-’ but he interrupted. I had to admit the list contained about half my year group.

’Do as you’re told. Maybe, when the fuss has died down you can share it as part of your testimony. Remember, what happened to you fits in with the fact that our great nation has been chosen to succeed for eternity. We must all play our part in securing that.’ He went off on one of his speeches. Whatever he meant, I was best not to disagree.

So I waited.

For two months, everyone had fun. Except me. I was pleased I didn’t deserve to die but this was killing me. Pete rubbed it in, though, going off up town and telling me about how good the festival was. Pete made a big deal of it. ‘You’re so spoilt! Do you know that your Dad actually begged Dr J. to come to make you better? Have some respect!’ What he knew made me think about Dad’s future with the Belief Centre. I needed to make the most of his contacts. With a real point to make, I dropped homework and set out on my mission to find a soul mate. Indirectly, the manager at the centre helped me find the email address. He, my dad, was far too busy to be bothered with this! Flicking through Dr J.’s tour dates, I posted a message on his site, asking to meet up with anyone else that had ‘come back’ –they’d know what I meant.

Then I acted like nothing happened. I was moved to a different school, but this just added to the mystery. I waited for what seemed like forever for a reply. I was so relieved to get that message! I told Mum there was actually someone else like me. Nosey Pete overheard, ‘I very much doubt that!’ he said, being the pig that he was.

‘Let’s think carefully,’ she said, as we headed for a walk along our beach, away from eavesdroppers. She took hold of my hand, ‘What would happen to us if everyone knew you were some miracle girl? We might have to go into hiding, to avoid paparazzi.’

‘Whatever!’ I began lobbing stones into the waves, ‘All I want is to hook up with Shakir and hear his story?’ I blurted out.

Mum’s eyes filled with tears, ‘Don’t disrespect the doctor. Whoever this Shakir is, that doesn’t matter to us. You can offer so much hope to countless struggling people, who remember how poorly you were.’ She stopped to dip her toes into the water.

‘You mean those who knew I’d died?’ I interrupted, hopping up and down on the scorching sand. I hadn’t noticed Dad coming towards us; he had probably heard. I wanted to say, ‘Just because Dad used to criticise the doctor and his pals before,’ but I chickened out. Why couldn’t he just give Dr J. a break? I couldn’t work it out. But I’m so glad I didn’t because I would have been gutted!

‘Does Dr J. want me to volunteer?’ I asked distractedly.

‘You could ask,’ she said helpfully. She had a plan in mind.

‘Come here, my miracle!’ Dad said, hugging me tight. I melted. ‘What’s it like to be in the sleeping beauty club?’

‘You’re having a laugh. That would be telling!’ I replied.

He continued, ‘We must be discrete. Dr J. is the product of his own success. He’s already being stalked by those who want healing. You know, he can’t do it every time!’ He shook his head.

‘Err, right. Even though, it’s happened before?’ A news flash went off in my head. ‘Shakir, this lad only a bit older than I am, was brought back to life before he was buried. Remember? Not long ago. So I can see where they’re coming from.’

He dodged. ‘But that was different!’

‘How?’ I asked, persevering.

Dad was drawn in. ‘Okay, there has been this huge party in his village since that boy’s return. His Mum’s ecstatic because their farm’s been saved from ruin.’ As I expected, he’d been studying Dr J.’s street credibility lately. At last, he was coming clean. Progress!

‘Well then?’ I pushed.

‘Your meeting could happen, if only you tell no one,’ he eventually said. I was getting a break. More of the secrecy stuff, though. Never mind, I was learning to do ‘quiet.’

‘Yes!’ I ran home and rushed up to my room. Handling it carefully, I just phoned May. ‘I’m gonna do it! I’m calling him. He’ll help me feel less of a freak!’

‘You two have the same t-shirt!’ she joked.

Meanwhile, I Googled Shakir, putting ‘near Nazereth’ and then ‘farmer’. A newspaper headline showed up in the search results: ’Widow’s delight!’ It was all about Dr J. taking pity on this woman and giving her son a new life. I squealed. ‘He had a gruesome accident! Wait, there’s a photo of him.’

May screeched. ‘Well, is he fit or what?’

‘Sort of!’ I giggled and then I cut her off.

I woke up early the next day and rang Shakir on the number I’d found on the farm website. His Mum answered.

‘Is Shakir there, please?’ I spluttered.

‘Sorry, he’s busy ploughing.’ She replied. I froze. But then she asked, ‘Can I help you?’

I waffled on about needing to hear Shakir’s story and about Gill, my auntie. ‘We could meet at hers,’ I said, explaining that Gill lived mid-way between us.

His mum was OK about it.

Classes seemed to go forever that week. By Saturday, Dad had come round. ‘You’re right, Shakir’s story matches yours. You two might help one another.’ Admitting that had taken some doing. He bundled me into the car, without Pete for once, and drove for an hour into the dusty countryside. We had to duck under the doorway into the cottage, brushing against sickly honeysuckle. I scoured her hall. Before long, I heard him.

Gulping, I rushed in. ‘Hi Gill!’ As ever, my lovely aunt was dressed to impress in a two- piece cotton skirt and top, no doubt made on her own machine. Her wavy hair had been tamed somewhat. And then I spotted him. He was chilled. He even got up for us. Dad made Shakir shake hands. That was a bit embarrassing. But his mum surprised me with a peck on the cheek. Her face glowed, with long straight brown hair tied back in a dark ribbon. She made me feel at ease. The adults started chatting, as if they’d know each other their entire lives. It wasn’t so easy for us two, with our style being cramped. My eyes fell on the floral rug. Dad was slow to leave but did take Shakir’s Mum with him. Gill went to show them out, leaving us alone. My gaze shifted to Shakir’s tatty trainers, then to his baggy jeans and a long black t-shirt, through which I could see his six-pack. His chin was stubbly. He blocked the sunlight, so I focused onto rosy cheeks and fixed on deep rock-pool eyes.

He spoke at last, ‘Hi, I’m Shakir.’

I managed to get a grip, ‘Yeah hi, I’m Tal.’

‘You want my story?’ He paused for a moment. ‘I’ve changed. Before working on the farm was it. But since going through that white tunnel, I’ve had gap year fever. Now, I want to travel.’

‘Yes. I can get that,’ which was all I could say for now.

‘You heard about my fallout with the baler machine? I should’ve waited till I got help. I’m stubborn.’ He laughed. ’But I didn’t care ‘cos I was out of it, if you know what I mean!’

‘Right!’ I said stupidly, thinking ‘been there, done that.’ Gill came back with drinks.

’Spooky! I blabbed.

‘Just a bit! Sorry, you must think I’m mad. Most people who don’t know Dr J. think I am. ’

‘No, I totally believe you. I am his greatest fan.’ I said, sounding geekier.

He began sipping his coke, ‘Shall we get out of here?’

‘Sure,’ I replied. We headed over to the nearest field, jumping the maze of irrigation pipes on the way. I followed a path that had been flattened. Shakir ran toward this huge, rolled bale and heaved himself up onto it. I tried to follow.

Watching me struggle, he leaned down to pull me up. ‘Enough about me. What’s your story?’ he asked.

‘You’ll have to wait for that! Your story’s far more interesting than mine.’

He told me about being pulled along in an open coffin by horse and cart, whilst his friend lined the road to say goodbye. Then, ’I never realised how many mates I actually had. My school was shut for the funeral. When Dr J.’s men came and saw what a state my Mum was in, they were gutted, and so the doc made me breathe again. It was awesome, he said ‘Get up!’ and I got up.’ He smiled.

‘He does brilliant stuff, that doc!’ I said going red.

Shakir continued, ’My mates couldn’t believe it. They wanted to call paramedics. ‘Your friend’s well,’ the doc told them but then he just vanished with his crew. Mum was something else. She couldn’t stop hugging me, meeting me full on, having to go on tip toes to get anywhere near a kiss! Luckily, my mates settled for high fives. I told them it was all down to Dr J.’ He seemed embarrassed now, so we slipped down off the bale and headed back to the cottage.

Gill let us in relieved. ‘Come on eat up. Your father will be here soon.’ Dad was late. We sat and picked at the food.

Shakir turned to me and whispered, ‘Next time, it’s your turn to tell.’ I began to worry. Moments later, Dad arrived and we left. I blanked most of the journey home. I slipped past Mum and rushed up to my room. My mobile went.

It was Gill and she was excited. She told me what Shakir had said after we’d left. ‘Since his healing he’s had these weird dreams about him and a girl. They’re surrounded by a crowd, and a man is passing them a book. He’d recognised the man as Dr J. and today he realised that the girl is you. Tal, that’s you in his dreams!’ I began to sob. ‘Sweetheart, he says he’s just getting his head around it. He’ll ring soon.’

He rang a day later, asking about my experience. I mentioned the shiny, silver cord lifting me from my body. ‘Same!’’ he screamed. Perfect. Until then, I hadn’t realised why Dr J. had bothered with me. There were so many that were better than I was. Wondering what I could ever do to repay him, it slowly started to click. I needed to refocus the lens that was my view of life.