Thunderstorm
Six months later, Michiko
followed our daughter. It struck us without warning. I spotted it when she
started coughing, just as Midori had. Fear ate up my soul when I first heard
her. The whole ordeal with Midori-chan began to flash before me.
Please don�t let it be what I think it is.
Please don�t let it be what I think it is. Please don�t let it be what I think
it is! No! I tried to make myself stay calm as I asked her important
questions.
�Michiko,� I said. �Are you feeling�?� She shook her
head.
�No,� she said. I tried to breathe out in relief. But
then, she paused. �I don�t think so�� she said. I froze and quickly grabbed her
shoulders.
�What do you mean?� I asked desperately. �Think really
hard.� Michiko tried to stay positive.
�It�s probably not that,� she said.
�You don�t know that!� I cried. �Look at what happened to
Midori-chan all because we didn�t catch it in time!� She gently stroked my
cheek.
�Iwao-kun,� she whispered. �I know you are scared. We
just don�t have any of the facts yet. We�ll have to wait and see what it is
first.� I shook my head at her hard.
�No!� I cried.
�Iwao-kun?� she asked. I quickly grabbed her by the arms.
�No!� I yelled again. �I don�t want to lose you! I don�t
want you to die!� My wife gently shushed me. I closed my mouth and looked at her
with big eyes. Michiko gave me a tiny smile.
�It�ll be okay.�
�No, it won�t!�
�Yes, it will!� she argued.
I closed my mouth. The only time she fights me this hard
is when she has a strong counter-argument against me. I waited for her to come
out and say it.
�How?� I challenged.
�We don�t know what is in store for us. We don�t know if
I could actually die. We don�t know anything,� she reasoned.
�So, what are you saying?� I asked.
�I�m saying don�t give up hope yet. We can try and beat
this thing.�
�And how do we do that?�
Michiko nuzzled her nose close to mine. �By any way
possible.� I tried to make myself smile just to humor her. I still had my own
pain and doubts beating around in the back of my mind. I knew this was all just
an act to make stop worrying so much about her. But, I already saw the fear and
despair in her eyes before she even started to lie.
Pretty soon, the same illness
that claimed Midori-chan began to surface within my wife. She ended up in the
hospital just like our daughter did. This go around, I was hesitant to try out
my skills. Many thoughts raced through my mind as I watched her lie there
helplessly in her bed. What if they won�t
work on her just like they didn�t on Midori-chan? I stared at my hands as
they shook before my eyes. I almost didn�t want to do it. But, I didn�t want to
lose Michiko too. Death already took my daughter; I didn�t want it to take my
wife as well. Besides, she was sound asleep before me. I drew in a heavy breath,
taking a quick look around to make sure I was alone. When it was clear, I took
in another breath.
Here goes,
I thought. I held my hand over her chest and began to chant. Just like with
Midori-chan, I felt nothing. My heart pounded again my own chest.
No! Not again! I can�t lose someone close
to me! Don�t fail me now! I desperately kept trying to heal my dear wife. I
kept trying until everything just gave out within me. I sat there with nothing
left inside of me. This was the priest that saved his community from dying and
yet he couldn�t save his own family? Is
this Buddha�s punishment for playing God? I collapsed on top of my wife in
bed. She had lost her will to live and I lost my faith all in one go.
In six months� time, Michiko joined Midori-chan in Meifu. They both left me in my growing misery. Michiko lay in her casket looking just as beautiful as on our wedding day in her bridal kimono and accessories. I didn�t stay for the whole funeral. I practically avoided everyone in the village afterwards. It proved too much for me. I had nothing without Michiko and Midori-chan in my life. My whole world had been robbed from me within a year. I resigned as a priest and cut all ties with our friends. I put the house up for sale and quietly moved away during the night. I haven�t been fine ever since.