Healed by the Super Power

The morning sun spied through the curtains that Sharon forgot to let down the night before. The light cast a shadow on her face with an intensity that made her stir on the bed. Her husband moved beside her and she opened her eyes only after a few hours of sleep. She had slept late, waiting to watch her husband go to sleep, wanting to soak in the pleasure of watching his calm face while he dived off to la-la land. Her eyelids flickered multiple times until she was able to keep them open. She raised herself from the waist up into a sitting position on the bed, her legs splayed in front of her.

Her eyes scanned the room for any other object she might have kept out of place like the curtain.

The bed was positioned at the center of the room as always. It wasn't like she could change its position even if she tried. The bed was made with a heavy wooden frame and a thick mattress. It had taken two handymen to place it in the position it was. There were two windows, one was fixed on the wall behind the bed, and the other was on the right side of the bed - the one with the lifted curtain. On the left side of the bed stood two doors, one had been left wide open while the other was closed. Behind the closed door was the toilet, the opened door led to the closet. Sharon sighed. She had also forgotten to shut the door that led to the closet. She had spent a long time searching through her clothes, trying to decide what was best for her to wear to sleep. Beside the door leading to the closet was an ironing table. The iron was plugged in and the socket was left on. In front of the bed were a large mirror and a dressing table that looked like it had not been used in a long time. Sprawled at the base of the table was Sharon's jewelry box. Clothes littered the room and erased the iconic beauty that the wooden floor and classy decoration was originated to give.

Nothing else was out of place except the few clothes on the floor - hers and Ray's, the misplaced shoes, the scattered jewel box, the closet door dangling, and the plugged-in iron. Thank goodness there had been a blackout through the night. It could have been a different story.

Sharon dragged herself off the bed and trod towards the curtain. She flung down its length and took another glance around the room. The beige walls looked as good as new. It wasn't obvious that the last time it was painted was about ten years before. She traced the wall beside the curtain with her hand as her eyes flitted through the environment. It had been a while since she studied the room, put things in order, and lived like a regular human. She bent and began to pick up the clothes from the carefully crafted wooden floors. She threw them into the laundry basket beside the door leading to the bathroom. She packed the shoes into the closet, put them in order, and shut the door.

She gathered the scattered jewelry, the rings, necklaces, earrings, nose rings, and bracelets. Every item told a story and as Sharon came in contact with each one, a longing jabbed at her soul. She hurriedly put the rest of the room in order and stepped out. The previously welcoming home hit her with a musky scent. She squeezed her nose and opened every window from the entrance of their bedroom down to the sitting room. With every step, she took in the gigantic size of the mansion she had lived in with her family for the past 35 years. She reminisced about the memories hidden within the walls. It sure felt smaller, comfortably accommodating Sharon and Ray.

Only two weeks ago, she had laid off the entire staff that worked in the house - the chef, the gardener, the housekeeper, the maids, and everyone she had to pay to keep working with her. The work was tolling in on her and she couldn't get used to keeping the house in order all by herself. It didn't make a difference that she occupied the visitor's room downstairs with Ray. It was difficult to dust the numerous paintings and pictures on the wall, handle the laundry and plates, and take care of every other place that needed cleaning. She'd had to reduce sweeping to only twice a week and the upper part of the house had completely been abandoned.

The open windows brought in flowery scents from the garden, but Sharon was not satisfied and there was barely enough time for her to do more. If only she were younger, if only Ray could help her, and if only she didn't have to let her workers go. Yet, she had to do what she had to do. She was never one to worry about the pay for the workers they kept in the house.

Even before they had gotten married, Ray had promised to give her a stress-free life. He employed all the workers and processed their salaries. All she did was put them in order, but the last few months had been like walking on fiery coals in flip-flops. It wasn't Ray's fault. It wasn't hers. Neither was it the fault of those who worked for her. Truth be told, Sharon never really knew who to blame. Sometimes she blamed nature, other times she blamed the universe and she would have blamed God if she believed in His existence. She didn't want to believe there was a God who oversaw the atrocities of the earth and didn't do anything to change it.

Things turned around when Ray could no longer work to earn money and the expenses of the house and its maintenance automatically fell to her. At first, it felt like no big deal. Ray had stashed away a large amount of cash and Sharon greatly believed that all would be well. She processed the salaries of the workers from that account, but when the account hit red the previous month, Sharon realized she had to do something. Her retirement plan wasn't as solid as she had believed it to be years before. The truth was that they were running out of money. Her visit to the bank the last time had done a huge amount in convincing her of that fact.

Sharon didn't make a lot of money. She never did. Schoolteachers made barely enough to survive, except they had an extra source of income. For all the years that Sharon spent as a schoolteacher, her husband was her extra source of income. He had told her many times to resign and relax and allow herself to be taken care of, but her passion wouldn't let her. She learned not to spend her salary and got used to adding the entire amount of money to her retirement funds. She never planned to use the money, she had hoped to give it to Will and Susan, her children, after her death. She never thought she would make use of the money. But the balance in her account was telling her otherwise.

She couldn't make an account of the money, couldn't tell where it went or what she had been using it for, but she couldn't blame herself or her husband. Living seven years with absolutely no source of income but only a string of expenses was bound to throw them into a haze of debts if care wasn't taken. The debts had indeed started to pile up. It could be seen in the amount of taxes Sharon had yet to pay in the last few months. The money she had left couldn't cover it. No one was making money and neither she nor her husband wanted to burden the children.

The only option that rang in her head as a permanent solution to the current situation was the advice Hilda had given the last time they saw. Hilda and Sharon worked at the same community school for years. The two were close friends, and so was Louis. The propelling factor was the fact that they were in the same age bracket, and they loved all children like theirs.

Sharon met Hilda at the grocery store about two weeks before. Hilda was surprised to see her and the reason was pretty obvious. Sharon never ran her grocery errands by herself. Hilda couldn't help but detect that something was wrong although the two had lost touch since Sharon retired. Sharon on the other hand was happy to have a diversion and someone to share her burdens with. The two women decided to have a quick lunch. Sharon spent the entire time talking about Ray and how taking care of him was taking a toll on her. Hilda was remorseful and sympathetic. Sharon didn't want any pity, but she couldn't complain either. It was at this time that Hilda advised Sharon to move to a senior community.

Hilda stretched forth her hand and held on to Sharon's across the table in the restaurant where they sat.

"You are going through a lot, Sharon."

Sharon's eyes were misty with tears and she sniffed.

"You should leave the big house, move to a senior community and you'll be able to concentrate on Ray alone. I know it wouldn't be easy, but I think you should sell the mansion and use the money from it to take care of yourself. Move to a senior community."

Sharon couldn't respond to Hilda. She didn't pull back her hands or cry louder but her heart bled. Sharon couldn't imagine herself leaving the house that bore so many memories. A house that told the story of her children and many firsts. A house that contained all she ever committed her life to. She could remember Ray saying he didn't ever want to leave the place too. Hilda couldn't understand and Sharon wasn't ready to explain it to her. Hilda patted her hands. They finished their food and left the restaurant.

She didn't think of the advice, not until now. Not until after she had received the call from the tax office informing her of the law she was defaulting by avoiding taxes for so long. Not until the bank informed her that they couldn't give her loans since there wasn't any collateral. Not until she woke up that morning with the world spinning in her head reminding her of how unfair life had been. She willed herself to stop thinking and turned back towards the room where her sleeping husband lay. Thinking about the house could come later.

Ray lay gently on the bed. He slept facing the ceiling, his arms by his side, breathing with due diligence. Her heart went out to him. She walked with steady steps towards him and he must have heard her because he moved a little. Sharon entered the closet, retrieved Ray's wheelchair, and slowly drove it toward his side of the bed. She abandoned the chair at the position she wanted and laid calm hands on Ray. His eyes flickered open. Sharon smiled. She hated the distance in his eyes, but nothing of her expression or behavior gave that away.

"Good morning!" She said with so much glee, that her energy shocked her. Ray tried to raise his head and she rushed forward to help him to the wheelchair.

"Goooood mor...n...ningg," His words were slurry and irritating to the ears. His head shook and his hands held fast to the hands of the chair. His legs were completely still. Sharon didn't stop smiling although she hated that she may never hear the rich baritone voice of her husband. She pushed the chair into the bathroom and set him in front of the mirror. She took his toothbrush, set it in his left hand, and guided him to brush his teeth. His right hand remained useless. When he was done, she helped him undress, set him under the shower, and washed him. When she was sure he couldn't see her, tears slipped from her eyes. She dried him and took him back into the room, and the closet.

She skimmed through his shirts and settled for a crimson cotton shirt and plain shorts. She combed his hair, styled it, and made him look as dashing as possible. It didn't matter that he couldn't do it himself, she would do it. She would make him as young as he ought to be. She wheeled him out of the room and down to the kitchen where she made a quick breakfast of omelets and coffee. Once again, his left hand set to work as he struggled to feed himself. He didn't say a word. For Sharon, his eating time was almost like his sleeping time. A long time ago, Ray made a rule for everyone to stop talking when eating at the dining table in the house. Hence, the silence her husband showed when eating almost made Sharon believe that he was normal and all, was well, would be well.

The sight she saw at the silent moment carried her mind off to the day she first set her eyes on Ray. On the significant journey on that train, the day after she decided to run away from home and live a life for herself.

***

The wind was misty and the clouds covering the sky made it impossible for the passengers on the train to believe it was noon. Sharon shivered in her seat wondering if her decision to leave home would be one she would regret or one that she would cherish for the rest of her life. She concluded it was too early to decide but she already didn't like the weather. She preferred a clear sunny sky to one infested with thick clouds. She hated the sound of rain and she could only hope the rain wouldn't fall. It wasn't the same for the gentleman that sat in front of her. Although he had not uttered a word since the journey began over twelve hours before, his demeanor piqued Sharon's curiosity. Sharon had come across boys, she had two brothers, and never had she seen one so quiet and given only to observe. She looked at his head, the only part of his body that she could see while looking straight ahead on the train.

If he so much as uttered a word, perhaps she wouldn't have been so curious to find out what went through the young man's mind, what made him so quiet, what made him enjoy the mistiness and cloudiness of the weather. She wanted to say something, to get him to open his mouth, to hear the voice of the mysterious handsome human. She knew he was handsome because a couple of hours ago, when she had to use the toilet, she caught a glimpse of his face and the brightness of his beauty escalated her brooding interest all the more. He was a blonde with brown eyes. Pretty brown eyes that reminded her of a cake well baked. His iris was caked into the whitest eyeballs she had ever seen and it brought the image of a full moon to her mind. She needed something, something that would shift his attention from the beyond to her, something that would make his eyes settle on her, something that would make her dwell on him. She leaned into his chair and brought her mouth close to his ear.

His head was resting on the window of the train, his eyes staring at the emptiness in the railway and the sky. She could see him from the reflection in her window. When her ear was close enough, she uttered in a barely audible whisper, "Are you running from home too?"

Like someone pricked with a needle, the young man lunged forward and threw his head back at Sharon in a rush. She jerked back nervously too, but quickly recovered and covered her face with a smile that screamed all shades of pride. That smile was her run-to weapon. She especially used it every time that she pissed off her siblings.

"What was that for?" The young man rubbed his ear, the one she whispered into and frowned at her. She didn't stop smiling.

"I needed to get your attention. Nature seems to get it more than humans. Also, I wanted to know if I was the only rebellious child on this train. So, are you running from home too?" She chattered like a dog whose latch was unleashed and set free after being held back for too long. A child could tell that Sharon hated to keep quiet for long. The young man was her new victim. He didn't respond, instead, he shook his head and faced the front again. Not giving up, Sharon leaned into his chair and whispered again. "I'm Sharon. What's your name?"

Sharon wasn't sure why she was surprised when he responded. But he told her his name. Ray. The name sounded like caramel in her ears. If she was curious some minutes before, it was either she didn't know the meaning of being curious or curious just wasn't the word to define how she felt at that moment. Her parents had taught her to beware of strangers, especially the male kind but Sharon didn't see Ray as a stranger to avoid. Rather, she saw him as a puzzle piece. He intrigued her and she wanted to know more. She probed again. "Where are you headed?" Her face was farther from his ears now that she was sure he would respond to her.

It turned out that they were headed to the same city. The only difference was that Ray knew his way around, but Sharon didn't. The rest of the journey was not in isolation for either of them. While Sharon enjoyed every bit of it, Ray confessed later that he wondered how his luck had brought him to meet such a trouble-filled, free-spirited human like Sharon. It was almost like they had gotten on the train together because they synced so well. Sharon was the fuel and Ray was the train.

The moment the train arrived at the last stop which was their destination, they alighted together and Sharon was in love. Only eighteen years of age, she was blooming with hormones that signaled her senses into believing that Ray was the man for her. Once again, the same couldn't be said for Ray. He was courteous and mature and knew for sure that he wasn't ready to settle for marriage at that time. He was twenty-five years old and the only child of his parents. His traveling was not rebellion, it was a business trip and he was sent by his father.

They parted ways that day. The fun and closeness ended like it never happened. Ray concentrated on his business trip and Sharon went about town as she had initially planned, except it wasn't as fun as she imagined it would be. Her mind could not stop thinking about Ray or his eyes, or his baritone voice that sent shivers running down her spine. After a month, Sharon returned to her town with only one mission in mind. To find Ray.

Her family was surprised to see her. She had disappeared without so much as a goodbye and even though they were worried, they didn't care to search because Sharon was always the wild goose among the hens. As disappointed as they were with her for disappearing and returning as she wished, they were elated when she reiterated that she wanted to get married. It wasn't long before they were disappointed again when they realized that the man she wanted to marry didn't even know where she was, not to even talk of proposing. It gradually dawned on everyone that her renewed presence in the house didn't signify the end of her rebellious phase. She was back only because she wanted to find someone and he just happened to live in that town.

Finding Ray didn't take too long. Sharon found him at last, but the hitch was that she couldn't propose to him. She had to find a way for him to propose to her. Her worry was unfounded because she didn't have to wait or even find a way. Initially, Ray thought he only got fond of her or was infatuated with her but the little time he spent apart from her made him understand that he was deeply in love with her. A love so strong it almost threw him into panic attacks in her absence. Her face always waltzed into his mind at unguarded times and there were moments when he missed her so much. A cousin of his friend was discussing a rebel Sharon who ran away from home a month ago and was back. He got curious and decided to seek her out. They got married six months later.

Sharon was happy to be married to Ray, she loved that his twinkling brown eyes, his blonde hair, and his honey baritone voice belonged solely to her. The early part of their marital journey was all smooth until the first problem ensued. Sharon had a miscarriage. It was a devastatingly tough battle for both of them. The loss of a loved one is never easy but they slowly recovered. The downside was when they tried again, Sharon had another miscarriage.

The total number of miscarriages Sharon had before her first child, was five. It was a period of darkness and she often found herself in the murky waters of depression. Yet, it was during this period that she fell even more in love with Ray. She came to appreciate his silence, his organized way, and the manner with which he handled her while she suffered. Not for once did he neglect her, he walked with her through the dejection, he walked with her to every appointment with the doctor and when Will came, they joyfully shared the special moment. He deserved to be her child's father as much as he deserved to be her husband. She couldn't stop loving him or taking care of him, no matter what. He was her everything.

Susan came after two other miscarriages, another five years after Will. After Susan, Ray advised that they stop trying to give birth to more children and Sharon agreed. Her body seemed to have done enough. Raising her children should have been a battle, but it was not, because she had Ray. He was with her through it all, he bathed them when she was sick or when monthly periods were too hectic for her to cope. At this time, Ray was already working with the military and making a good income for the family. Sharon didn't need to but she started to prepare for college. She was interested in improving her level of education. She didn't want to end up an unintelligent wife. Sure, she was smart but smart wasn't enough. She needed to be able to hold intelligent conversations with people.

Since Will was already in school, Ray hired a housekeeper and babysitter when Susan clocked one. He gave her enough space for reading and getting ready for college. He was the best support she ever had all her life, someone she didn't want to rebel against, someone who tolerated the best of her. She passed the entrance exam on the first try and got admission into the university to study Child Education.

It was another hurdle for her, but with Ray by her side, hurdles were stepping stones to greater heights. He had a knack for leveling them. Probably another reason she held on to him as both the love of her life and her lifeline.

They moved to the mansion the month after Susan turned five. It was beautiful and the children loved it. Ray hired a full house staff and she barely had to do anything. She took a teaching job in the children's school and told Ray it was because she wanted to be closer to them. Ray wanted the kids to attend a private school, but Sharon insisted that they attend the community school. She got a job as a grade four teacher and she quickly became friends with Louis and Hilda. Ray told her many times after the kids graduated to retire but Sharon had come to love her job and training kids so much. It was the first time she didn't listen to her husband. Years later, how glad she was that she didn't listen to him and retired all those years ago. Thanks to her retirement fee, she and Ray had come so far. Except, she didn't know how much farther they could go. The money was all but gone. It was the same as what Ray saved up. And it all began seven years ago.

The symptoms came subtly. It collided with the sole period when Ray messed up an important contract he had with the military. In due time they figured that he was duped, but there was nothing much that could be done to correct the error. Ray was never careless and no one understood what could have gone wrong. Being the meticulous and organized person that he was, the situation didn't add up. Ray was bitter for days and that's when Sharon started to notice it. The things he did not do before. He put his shoes in the wrong places, left his clothes on the bed, and spoke even less, and the times he spoke, his words were slow and slurry. He got angry at the littlest of issues. Nothing was weirder. Sharon decided they needed to see the doctor the day Ray fell asleep while eating and he fell. When he woke up, his right hand was useless.

The couple didn't know what to expect. They had been married forty-two years, almost forty-three at the time. Both of their children were married and although they lived very far away from them, it didn't matter because they communicated as frequently as possible when there was a need. But when Ray was diagnosed, neither of them was aware. They didn't tell their children or anyone else. Informing anyone made it feel like they were letting go of the string of hope that stopped the doctor's report from being true. They didn't want it to be anywhere near the truth. Ray flared up at the hospital and refused to be set up for therapy or to be treated. No matter what Sharon said, they were back home in less than an hour, acting like they didn't just receive the most devastating news of their lives. Sharon never pressed Ray to go for treatment or listen to what the doctor had to say about his disease. Just like her husband, she desperately wanted the results of the test to be untrue. She kept quiet for as long as she could. Long enough was one week later when Ray fell in the bathroom. She called the ambulance and Ray was rushed to the hospital, the same hospital from the week before. When he came to, he didn't resist anything the doctor prescribed. It was more like they realized that there was nothing they could do but succumb to the treatment given. All would have been well, it really would have been. If the doctor's diagnosis wasn't very wrong.

***

Ray was done eating. He wanted to speak, but Sharon wasn't up for it. She stood from the table and packed the plates into the dishwasher, carefully loading the machine. She heard him stand up behind her. She expected him to walk towards her, but his footsteps got distant with every step he seemed to take. Sharon turned to face him. He was headed towards the sitting room. Probably to watch the television, she concluded and turned back to the plates. She hated the life she had to live with him, she hated that he was reduced to the kind of person that he now was. Her mind was as clouded as her eyes and tears were gushing out like a broken tap. Because of the tears and how occupied Sharon was, she didn't notice Ray creeping up behind her. But she noticed his hands when they gripped her waist and she stilled in her position.

"I love you!" His voice was audible with the rich baritone, her favorite for the past fifty years. She wanted to cry out in joy. Her hands were shaky as she turned to face him. For a moment she wanted to believe that all was well, that her husband was back to himself but it was only for that moment. His hands slowly left her waist. Her face dropped in disappointment. His eyes were blank and the emotion was gone. He turned and went back to the sitting room. More tears escaped from Sharon's eyes because she had believed that he could be well. Ray couldn't be well. The possibility was ruled out when the doctor discovered five years ago that he made a wrong diagnosis. Ray wasn't sick with Parkinson's disease. It would have been better if that was the case. There was hope for a little recovery at least, but Ray had a disease that only possessed similar symptoms, not similar treatment mechanisms. The news broke their hearts, but nothing could be done. Ray was sick with a rare brain disease. The doctor called it Corticobasal Degeneration. Her Ray would never be normal again.

Sharon arranged the plates and walked out of the kitchen. With each preceding step, her heart solidified in only one decision, one that was best for the couple. Sharon decided she would move to a senior community with Ray.