The Healing Touch

The Healing Touch

  A Tory Lane Novel

  By Heather MacKenzie-Carey

  Copyright 2014 Heather MacKenzie-Carey

  Cover Design by: Miss Mae

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Tory pressed her face against the window pretending to be interested in watching baggage handlers toss suitcases onto the conveyor belt. She could really care less whether or not her luggage made it into the plane or not, but she figured if she kept her head squished against the plastic maybe her father wouldn’t see her cry.

  “Just a few more minutes and we’re off to a new life.” Tory’s father reached over from the seat beside her and squeezed her hand. Tory wished he wouldn’t hold her hand in public but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying say so. It was good to see him excited and almost happy again. Tory felt miserable. The same way she had felt for the last year.

  Well, eleven months and three days ago to be exact. That was when the police officer rang the doorbell to tell them her mother had been in the accident. Tory’s father had opened the door happy to see his friend, not expecting anything wrong until he saw the look on Ted’s face. He hadn’t realized Ted was making an official police visit.

  “Frank, buddy, I’m so sorry to be telling you this, but you need to come down to the hospital right away. Samantha was hit by a car and it’s bad,” Ted said.

  Tory had been listening from the top of the stairs and heard Ted’s voice crack when he spoke. Her father had believed it was still going to be okay. He went into “emergency mode”. A paramedic himself, he was used to accidents, broken bones and head injuries. He figured the doctors and nurses, science and medicine, could make it all better. He told Tory her mother had been in an accident. He said they would go see her at the hospital and make sure she was okay. He said Ted was just shook up because it was someone he knew. Tory knew even before the officer came to the door that it wasn’t going to be okay.

  Tory had been home sick from school that day. She had the weird pain in her head that came sometimes when bad things happened, and her stomach had been sick. She had seen a strange black aura around her mother for days. She had tried to talk to her mother about it- to warn her. Her mother had brushed it off.

  “You’ve been watching too many movies and reading too many books about magic and supernatural stuff,” Tory’s mother said. But she looked a little frightened, and Tory knew her mother was scared, maybe even afraid for Tory.

  “I’m going to go get you a funny movie to take your mind off things,” she said.

  When Tory begged her not to go, saying that she didn’t need a movie, her mother stroked her forehead as though she could brush the thoughts, the visions, the pain, away.

  “Sometimes you remind me so much of Grandma Nan,” she said as she kissed Tory on the forehead. That was the last thing she said to Tory.

  A few minutes before the door bell rang Tory had seen the whole thing. She saw the car coming up behind her mother. She saw her mother swerve to avoid a pot hole just as the driver of the car looked down to answer his cell phone. She smelled the rubber burning on the road, felt the impact of her mother’s body against the hood of the car. Tory knew when her mother’s body slid from the hood of the car to the road. For a second she saw the blue sky from her mother’s eyes and she knew her last thought had been of Tory. Then Tory’s mother closed her eyes and the world went dark.

  For the next week, Tory and her father had kept up a vigil beside her mother’s hospital bed in the intensive care unit. Frank had been absorbed by the medical science of it all. He read all the charts, talked to the Doctors and nurses about trying other things, doing something, anything. He had monitored the intravenous tubing that carried fluid to her body, and checked the respirator constantly. Every time he thought he saw the slightest movement, a sign of life, he jumped up and looked at the machines. He explained all the machines and numbers to Tory as though she were a medical student. He acted detached, as though Samantha was a patient, not his wife and Tory’s mother.

  Tory had felt if she focused hard enough, hoped enough, or squeezed her mother’s hand the right way, she could make her wake up. If only Tory could reverse the vision, take back that moment. If only she had done something to make her mother stay home. Why hadn’t Tory suggested they watch an old movie? Why hadn’t she begged her mother not to leave? Why hadn’t she made her mother understand the danger she was in. Why hadn’t she told her how much she loved her? If only she had told her how much she needed her.

  Tory’s mother had never gained consciousness. On the seventh day, they took her off the machines and said she was dead. Tory’s father had remained professional when he explained to Tory that many of her mothers’ organs would be donated. He said Samantha wanted that. It was something they had talked about without involving Tory. Samantha had signed a donor card. Frank said it should make Tory feel proud that her mother’s dying could give others life. It didn’t.

  The funeral had been like a tragic Shakespearian play with everyone acting out a role. Frank had played the “understanding paramedic” and had comforted others, refusing to acknowledge or give into, his own grief. He complimented Tory on her strength. He said they would get through this together. They would be strong for Samantha. Tory played the role of “Daddy’s little girl”, taking her lead from him, pretending to believe his words. She acted strong and detached as though none of it was her fault. Tory’s role was to act like she and her father were a team that could survive without the main character, the heroine. That was the play. In real life, Tory’s whole life fell apart.

  Tory’s grandmother arrived for the funeral. It was the first time Tory had met her. The family resemblance was obvious. Tory’s grandmother was tall and thin like Tory’s mother and had the same green eyes as Tory and her Mom. She kept hugging Tory and saying she was so sorry for everything. Unlike everyone else, Grandma Nan didn’t say that things would work out okay. Grandma Nan cried. She said she wished things happened differently but everything happened for a reason. Tory couldn’t see any reason for her mother dying, but Grandma Nan was kind and meant well. It felt like Tory had always known her.

  The night after the funeral, when Tory couldn’t sleep, Grandma Nan had sat on the edge of Tory’s bed with the princess netting and pink trim, and told her why they had never met before. She said Tory’s Mom had been wild and headstrong and had run away with Tory’s Dad, Frank. Frank’s family had a cottage on the island and they came every summer. Frank had been a tall handsome lifeguard that last summer so many years ago. Grandma Nan said it had been a strange summer with intense thunderstorms and changing winds. What had always been a close friendship had turned into something more between Samantha and Frank that year. It seemed natural to most, but Samantha’s father hadn’t approved. He expected Samantha to go to Veterinary College and eventually take over his practice. He had big dreams and goals for his daughter. Those dreams didn’t include a “Come from Away Cottage Guy” like Frank.

  Samantha and Frank eloped during a thunderstorm, the night before a big horse show. When Samantha called home and said they were married, Tory’s grandfather had told her to never come back. And she hadn’t.

  Grandma Nan had sent a birthday present to Tory every year and Samantha had sent pictures of Tory to Grandma Nan but they never met. When Tory’s grandfather died, Samantha still didn’t go home. But when
Grandma Nan heard about the accident she swallowed her fear of flying and came halfway across the country to look after Tory and her Dad. “Just until you get back on your feet,” Grandma Nan had said in her strong authoritative voice.

  Tory’s Dad said they didn’t need help. He claimed they were a family, just the two of them now. After a couple of weeks Grandma Nan couldn’t stay away from the Island any longer and flew home to look after her stables.

  Tory rolled her fingers around the individual stones on her rose quartz bracelet. The bracelet was a gift from Grandma Nan. The day she left, Grandma Nan had taken it off her own wrist and given it to Tory. She said wearing the bracelet would help Tory feel loved and protected. Grandma Nan said it would help Tory remain connected to her. Tory’s father said it was Grandma Nan’s “hoo- doo- voo- doo”. But Tory never took it off. It really did help a bit- just not enough.

  Tory and Frank weren’t “back on their feet”. The past few months hadn’t gone well. The house was a mess; Tory had pimples all over her face from eating junk food for supper every night, she had gained ten pounds, her father had lost fifteen, and even Saint Albert the cat looked mangy. Both Tory and her father knew they needed help.

  Tory’s father was working extra shifts at the fire hall. He had taken a promotion to Paramedic Supervisor. Everyone said it was incredible that he could still do what he did; going to accident scenes and helping people after what had happened. Tory was alone a lot of the time. Tory had always been an “A” student but even her grades had taken a dive. She just didn’t care and she couldn’t concentrate. Homework seemed stupid. School felt pointless. The teachers all gave her a break. They said it was okay, she could make up things later. Her favourite teacher, Mrs Gibson tried to talk to Tory about it. She said everyone understood and asked if there was anything she could do. No one understood. There wasn’t anything anyone could do.

  Then two weeks ago, when the school year was over, over hamburgers and fries before he went to work, Tory’s father had dropped the bomb. He said he had been talking to Grandma Nan and decided it was time to move! He got a job with the Fire Department on the Island and they were going live on Grandma Nan’s horse farm. Just like that. He hadn’t even asked Tory what she thought about it- just made a decision. That wasn’t the way it had been when Tory’s mother was alive. They had made family decisions then. Tory didn’t know anything about horses and Frank was allergic to them! What a ridiculous idea to move to a farm.

  When Frank told her about the move Tory just said, “Whatever”. It was stupid but she really didn’t care. Nothing really mattered any more. She didn’t have any friends because no one knew how to talk to her since her Mom died. She didn’t want to go to anyone else’s house and see their mothers doing all the things her mother had done before. She could feel how uncomfortable people were around her and it was exhausting. Tory just didn’t have the energy to care anymore or be a friend and she didn’t want to burden anyone else with her pain.

  Tory leaned over and poked her finger into Saint Albert’s cage underneath the seat in front of her. She stroked that special spot behind his ear and felt the vibration of his purring. He was really the only friend she needed and as long as he could come with her Tory didn’t care where they lived. St. Albert was really special. Whenever Tory cried he curled up beside her or on her lap looking at her with his sad yellow eyes. When Tory tried to do her homework, St. Albert would bat her pencil with his one white paw trying to get her attention. Except for the front right paw he was totally black, a Halloween cat. He liked to show off his white paw. He would lick his paw with his scratchy pink tongue and then wash himself over and over again until he was sleek all over. Before Tory’s mother had died, St. Albert hadn’t been very friendly or affectionate, preferring to keep to himself. Tory figured St. Albert knew how much she needed a friend and he barely left her side since they had come home from the hospital knowing her mother was dead. He slept on her bed that night and every night since and was always sitting at the window waiting for Tory to come home from school. Already bored with the plane and his carrier, St. Albert settled into his soft pink blanket for a nap.

  Maybe an Island would be okay after all Tory thought. A farm with lots of trees and a beach and grassy fields meant she could just disappear and not have to talk to anyone or try and pretend she was normal. Grandma Nan had said she was busy working with the horses all day long. Tory figured that meant she would be left alone with St. Albert. Maybe she could catch up on some reading or just sleep without anyone trying to cheer her up. Maybe the visions wouldn’t follow her there.

  As the plane lifted off, Tory felt almost excited. She squeezed her father’s hand and closed her eyes. Saint Albert was already asleep.