CHAPTER 36

The memory of you

The hours passed by incredibly slowly on a day that seemed to have no end; a day that seemed to be part of a horrible nightmare, even though the most horrifying thing was to close one's eyes and watch all those terrible images replaying again and again. By this time, television was already showing the two airplanes colliding against the towers, the buildings on fire, the population's despair and the firefighters' work fighting against time and against the grandiosity of that tragedy in order to save lives.

The sound of the buildings collapsing echoed through the city streets and, in a way, through countries and continents miles away in what would become one of the saddest chapters in the history of humanity. As the night fell, the anguish and despair only increased as the searching for survivors also became a frightening preview of the death toll that authorities would have to inform the press about every couple of hours. Many angels of God cried along with the brave rescuers who put their lives in danger in order to save others; many escorted their Father's children Home once their injuries were too much for the fragile body that kept their souls; and many worked as instruments to perform miracles amongst that tragedy.

But one of these angels had witnessed all that horror in a more intense way than others and would forever keep a record of all that horror etched in her heart; a pure and generous heart that had never before been so maculated by evil. When the firefighters started to remove the first injured people out of the buildings, ambulances could still find their way up to the nearest hospitals. But as time passed by, with the growing number of casualties and with the collapsing of the buildings, streets became difficult to drive along. The victims with minor injuries started to receive the first aids in the nearest places, and one of them was the St. Paul's Chapel.

Monica removed the strands of hair that insisted on falling over her face, escaping from the ponytail she had improvised while helping the pastor bring more water to those who were lying on the church's pews. They had been transformed into beds and it was past 3 AM when another ambulance finally made its way up to the church in order to take the most seriously injured to the hospitals within the area. There were a few firefighters working along with the paramedics but she didn't recognise any of them. Extremely exhausted, the angel sat down for a moment and looked at her wedding ring. Fidgeting with it, she closed her eyes and remembered the exact moment Andrew had placed it in her finger, on a beautiful spring afternoon, at that same chapel. The party afterwards, their days in Niagara Falls and their happy routine as a married couple, with Bear always playing around their feet.

"Angel?"

"Good morning, Andrew..."

The blond angel was surprised when he slowly opened up his eyes on that sunny Sunday morning and saw his dear wife lying in bed next to him and gazing at him with sparkling eyes and a lovely smile. It was one of the rare occasions when they would wake up together and have a calm morning after they had returned from their honeymoon. The Irish angel in human form had been watching her beloved valentine sleeping for the past few hours and once in a while she would stroke his handsome face or his dark blond hair, in awe at how much love she could feel for him as the days passed by.

Also smiling, despite the fact that his eyes were still glassy with sleep, he reached out and wrapped his strong arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. Then he caressed her hair, removing some auburn strands from her angelic face. "Good morning, my angel... What made you wake up so early?" he wanted to know, mirroring his own face reflected in those beautiful dark eyes.

"I wanted to see you sleeping!"

Monica snuggled closer to him and nestled her head underneath his chin; eyes closed and a delighted smile on her lips as she heard his steady heartbeats. "We contemplate landscapes and flowers, cotton-like clouds slowly travelling along the blue sky or the stars blinking at us in the vast universe... Why can't I watch an angel of God asleep by my side?"

Andrew felt his heart ache with emotion at the honesty of those loving words.

Gently tightening the embrace around her small form, he kissed the top of her head. "Never forget that this angel of God sees in you all the wonderful creations you've just mentioned..." he ducked his head and gently cupped her cheek, making her open her eyes and look up at him. "...And that he loves you so much..."

He captured her lips in a loving and soulful kiss that made her fall limp in his arms, once again putting herself under his gentle care, welcoming his tender touch and returning it with the same intensity. "All I want is for the Father to bless me with mornings like these for the rest of my eternity..." Monica whispered, in between kisses. Andrew stopped those loving caresses for a moment and searched for her eyes. "He will, my beautiful angel. And I'll make every morning count!"

Watching her smile and her dark brown eyes fill with love, the blond angel brushed her lips with his once again, and then started to place featherlike kisses against her neck and jaw, and then back again to her lips. Eliciting contented sighs from his beautiful valentine, Andrew himself felt the need to deepen their kiss once her slender fingers touched the back of his head and entangled through his short blond hair.

Soon, two souls became one, whispered loving words and promises of eternal love filled that sunny Sunday morning with joy and loving memories.

That was the last time Monica and Andrew woke up together; her last memory of the perfect world that they had turned their life into.

"Monica?" The low voice and the gentle touch over her shoulder made the angel in human form open her eyes slowly, with a confused expression on her face. "Are you alright?"

Slowly, Monica noticed the sunlight coming through the chapel's windows and the noise of the sirens outside became again familiar to her ears. She turned her eyes up and saw Amy's worried face; the latest events of a terrible day returning to her mind all over again.

"Amy... I'm... I'm sorry..."

"You sat down here to rest a little, I suppose, and ended up falling asleep."

"What time is it?" she wanted to know, visibly feeling bad for drifting off for a few hours.

"Half past six... The day has just come up."

"And... where are the others? What about the victims? Who is watching over them?" she wanted to know, all of a sudden the tragedy became clear to her once again.

"The firefighters don't stop bringing injured people... We had some help from the neighbourhood too, and a few people appeared to be volunteers."

"The firefighters... Have you spoken to the fire-fighters?" The urgency in her voice told Amy what she really wanted to know; who she was really thinking about.

"Very quickly... They've been working non-stop." The woman observed how exhausted Monica looked like on that cold morning and felt sorry for her. "And so have you." She said, "No wonder you ended up falling asleep in here."

"And I'm sorry I did..." she rose to her feet but quickly reached for support on the wall as the world was again spinning around her.

"Monica?" Amy held her arm and made her sit down again.

"I'm alright."

"No, you're not! You've been working non-stop since yesterday and need to rest and eat something!" the woman insisted, watching as the little angel shook her head somewhat stubbornly.

"I don't feel hungry at all..."

"Please, come with me; I'll take you to the sacristy room so you can have something to eat."

Monica looked around her and saw that more church pews were occupied with victims of the terrorist attempt. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed deeply, wondering when all that would have an end; wondering, in a selfish way according to herself, when she would be able to hold her beloved Andrew once again.

Amy's efforts were nearly useless as Monica didn't eat much; and the young woman was surprised to see her back at the church and helping the other volunteers some time later. But she could understand the reason why she was doing this. It was a way to stay busy and hold onto hope that her Andrew was alright somewhere out there.

As the hours passed, however, Amy and another volunteer, a very kind and supportive old lady, had to help Monica. The angel was bringing a bowl of water to clean a man's cuts when suddenly she stopped walking and quickly dropped the bowl on a pew. She rushed to the small bathroom and moments later emptied her stomach with the contents of the breakfast she'd had earlier. Amy frowned at the Irish lady's poor condition and felt extremely sorry for her. She insisted Monica go home and have some rest; she even offered to walk with her but was always met with a negative answer.

Not knowing what else to do, Amy decided to look for someone that would probably manage to convince the Irish lady; someone she knew was a very good friend of Monica's.

X

It was past 5 PM when the old teacher crossed the gates of St. Paul's church. In her hands, a small amount of food and water supplies for the volunteers who had been working non-stop in order to treat the ones in need. Ambulances were the only vehicles that crossed the streets next to the spot where the towers collapsed. And before she kept on her walk, Ella stopped by the entrance of the chapel, watching a scene that seemed to have been taken from a war movie, and prayed.

"Oh, Father... I never thought I'd live to witness something like this... Please, help us..."

Soon, the old lady spotted Monica speaking to a firefighter and she didn't need to be close to know what – or who, they were talking about. Her heart ached to see that as the man walked away, the young lady with the beautiful accent sank down on a chair and rested her head in her hands. Tears soon made their way down her face as she sobbed, a terrible pain in her heart.

"Baby..."

The angel in human form soon felt a gentle hand over her shoulder and, for a split second, she thought she had heard an old friend from the past. She blinked twice, however, and Ella's face appeared as a relief.

"Ella..."

The old lady took a seat next to her and held her tightly as she finally allowed herself to cry shamelessly. "Shh... calm down, baby..."

"No one knows where he is, Ella..." she managed to say in between sobs.

"Monica, please... please try to calm down..."

"Even his boss doesn't know where he is! He told me that Andrew was in one of the towers before it collapsed, that he was helping the others but no one on his team knows where he's gone, Ella!"

"He's out there, Monica." She interrupted her, "And you'll meet sooner or later. You've been here for nearly two days now and you have no idea what the city is like out there. Some people are being taken to other cities because hospitals are crowded and even the phone lines are not working. Andrew is out there somewhere, thinking about you and I'm positively sure he wouldn't like to see you like this!"

She threw a look of disapproval at the young teacher, as Monica's appearance was one of exhaustion and despair.

"They... They need people to help..."

"I know, and I was also informed that you helped a lot, more than any other volunteer in here as it was your idea to turn the pews into hospital beds and open the chapel doors to all God's children." She said, "But you are God's child too!"

The old lady watched as her young friend bit her lower lip, her face still damp from the tears that never stopped. "I just can't stop thinking about Andrew..."

Ella stroked her auburn hair. "Please let me take you to your house. We don't even know if Andrew has left a message with a neighbour or if he has passed by."

Her heart ached when she saw the hopeful look in Monica's eyes. "Do you really think so?"

"There is only way to find that out, Monica. Plus, I was told you've been sick, and anyone can see that just by looking at you. Have you been eating?"

"I... I don't feel very hungry, you see.."

The teacher rose to her feet and gave her a stern motherly look that so resembled a much loved angel that Monica hadn't seen in over a year. "You're coming with me now, young lady, and this is not a request! I'm older, much older than you are, and if there's one thing good about it is that I don't get my orders questioned!"

X

PS. The story of the sycamore tree standing in front of St. Paul's chapel, protecting it from the impact of the debris when the towers collapsed, as well as it becoming a relief center is true.