Religious fiction novel by Michael Mancini depicts Jesus Christ as a little girl.

by Michael TornilloJanuary 17, 2012

Revelation by Michael Mancini is a novel that packs a punch! In his new thriller, Mancini explains that the second time Jesus Christ appears to mankind, he will come back as a woman.

Read More: amazon, jesus christ, fact and fiction, dan brown, new novel, ancient folklore, religious zealots, mystery thrillers, summer blockbuster, city of rome

Avid readers and critics alike are going nuts over the new novel Revelation by Michael Mancini. It is being hailed as the “most creative and innovative depiction of good versus evil since Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code.” The Ocean Book Review reports, “It is sure to be the best selling religious thriller of the summer season!”

Murder, intrigue, betrayal, and the holy church are twisted together in this spiraling epic in a race to save the most important person in modern history. It promises to be the summer blockbuster of the year and as religious mystery-thrillers go, it is a must read.

The book, nearly as thick as the bible itself, boasts close to 500 pages of action, suspense and intrigue. Mancini uses real world settings, accurate historical events, and ancient folklore to blur the line between fact and fiction.

In his tempestuous tale, Michael Mancini brings the reader from the eternal city of Rome, to the remote unspoiled Rila mountains of Bulgaria, in a desperate search for the holy vessel ordained by Jesus Christ himself to be used in the second coming. While an innocent girl’s life hangs in the balance, the protagonist is unwillingly thrust into a world of murder, chaos, and deceit where ancient vendettas abound.

An easy read and a pager turner, the novel is sure to create quite a stir among hardcore Christians and religious zealots because according to Mancini, when Christ comes back this time he returns as a woman!

Sneak previews are on the website www.revelationthenovel.com.

Revelation by Michael Mancini will be released on February 17, 2012 through Amazon.com for all electronic reading platforms. It will also be available in paperback through the same link.

News Source: http://www.free-press-release.com/news-religious-fiction-novel-by-michael-mancini-depicts-jesus-christ-as-a-little-girl-1326813605.html

Official Website: http://www.revelationthenovel.com

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Revelation by Michael Mancini - Chapter Six

Chapter Six - Blinded by the Light

            His eyes still adjusting to the drastic change in light, Michael rubbed them in disbelief.  He peered through squinted eyes at Gina Wilcox as she stood in the doorway of his hospital room.  It was past 11:30 at night and he wondered how she even got into his room.  He recognized her from the huge photo of her that dominated the cover of the New York Post.  Still a little bit shaken from the flashback of the rape he saved her from, he blinked his eyes as if he was looking at a ghost.

“G…Gina? What are you doing here?” he asked while he cleared his throat and sat up in his bed.

“I’m sorry Mr. Raphael; I really don’t want to intrude.  I know I should have knocked but I didn’t expect to find you awake.”  She clutched a small white envelope in her hands.  “I was just going to sneak in and leave this for you.”

Gina wore a long shimmering black rain coat synched around her waist with black leather riding boots.  Beaded droplets of water from the light rain outside dotted the coat like tiny diamonds on a shimmering black surface.  Her long blond hair hung loosely around her face, the ends damp from the rain with a slightly relaxed pony tail that fell over the front of her right shoulder.  Michael saw small, barely noticeable bags, under her eyes.  He assumed she had spent the last twenty four hours crying while the horrible event played over and over in her mind.  She wore little make up but her high cheek bones and delicate nose framed her big blue eyes perfectly.  Gina needed little help to look pleasant.  She was easy on the eyes even in her emotional state.  Make up would detract from her natural beauty and delicate features anyway.  Michael suspected a distant Nordic heritage as he witnessed her delicate light coloring and graceful facial features.  She walked with the grace of a woman of class.  She spoke clearly and intelligently through her supple pouting lips, her half-smile exposing her perfectly positioned white teeth.

“I suppose I should tell you personally instead of sneaking around leaving notes behind your back, but I just don’t know how to put my gratitude into words.” she looked at Michael’s large bandage affixed to his flank.  “I feel terrible about what happened to you.  I blame myself.”

“Let’s start by how you snuck in here so late.” Michael attempted to save her from the embarrassment of a long winded thank you by changing the subject.  Or perhaps he saved himself from hearing it.  He was not very good at accepting gratitude or apologies so he felt a little uneasy sensing the inevitable soliloquy that would soon follow.

“I seem to have a familiar face I guess.” she shot an animated look at the Post resting on the side table next to Michael’s bed.  He followed her eyes to where she glanced.

“I guess so huh?” They both laughed uncomfortably.  An uncomfortable silence ensued.  Looking down while she wrung her hands, Gina broke the deafening silence.

“Well.  I guess I should start by telling you how lucky I feel that you happened to cross my path last night.  And, how sorry I am you got hurt in the process.” Her eyes began to well up with tears.

“I, I really can’t tell you how, how indebted to you I am Mr. Raphael.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her trembling hand.

“Well you can start by calling me Michael.” he said in a comforting voice.

“Um, I’m sorry.” she cleared her throat as she corrected herself, “Michael.”

“That’s better.” Michael smiled at her and looked deeply into her eyes.  “I didn’t do anything anyone else in my position wouldn’t have done Gina.” “I need you to know that.”

“I don’t believe that Mr. Raph… um, Michael.  I heard people passing outside of the ally way.  I know they heard me.  Nobody stopped.” A single large tear escaped from each of her eyes and streamed down her soft white cheeks.  Her lips started to tremble.

“Now come on. Don’t cry Gina.  I can’t take the crying, it kills me.  Everything turned out fine.” Michael tried to console her.  He melted when a woman cried.

“How can you say that?” she said.  Holding back the tears she knew made him uncomfortable. “Look at you!” she pleaded.  “You almost died!”

“It’s not that serious Gina.  Come on, don’t cry.”  Michael made a move to get out of the bed.  Gina moved closer.  “Don’t get up.  I’ll stop.”  Her hand shook as she hurriedly wiped the tears from her face.

“I just want you to know,” she paused.  “I believe in angels.”  “I believe you were escorted to that horrible place at that specific time.”  “I believe in fate Mr. Raphael.”  Gina’s voice sobered as she said the words with conviction.

“What if I told you I dropped my cell phone?” Michael joked.

“Sorry, Michael, I don’t believe you.”

“Suit yourself.” Michael shrugged.

Gina walked towards the Michael’s hospital bed cautiously.  She extended her feminine hand to touch the bandages.  Her knuckles were bruised and sore.  She had broken and jagged nails on most of her fingers and her palms looked scrapped.  The defense wounds were evidence of the recent trauma she had suffered.  Placing her hand delicately over the bandages and closed her eyes.  Michael was as still as a frightened cat as she began to pray.

“Father in heaven I ask you to help this man.  Please heal his wounds and make him whole.”  She trembled slightly as she continued.  Michael remained still looking at her face while she held her eyes closed.

“He is a good servant Lord and a good man.”  “Please let him leave here quickly and continue your work.  I thank you for sending him to save me.” “Amen.”

She opened her eyes, while gently resting her hand on the bandage.

“I want you to know that if you ever need help, no mater what it is, you can rely on me.  I owe you my life Michael and I thank you deeply.”

It was Michael who fought back the tears now.  Her words and sincerity touched him deeply.  As she stood close to him he could smell her delicate scent.  She smelled of gardenia; he thought he smelt it when she entered the room but now it was even more prevalent as she stood over him.  He touched her hand.

“You remind me of my own daughter.” “She’s only two years old now, but there is something in your eyes that remind me of her.  I saw you helpless there and I was compelled to help you; just as I would help my own child.” His eyes became watery but no tears fell.  She could see how emotional he was becoming and knew they now had a life long connection.

“Thank you for being honest Michael.” “It means a great deal to me.” She smiled at him and placed the card on his bedside table on top of her picture on the cover of the newspaper.

“I’ll let you rest now.  I said what I came here to say.”

As she turned to leave the room, Michael couldn’t help but say one more thing to her.

“Did you know the guy?”

“What?” she turned to look at him.

“The rapist, did you know him?”

“I don’t know, and I’m too afraid to look at him again to find out.”

There was a short pause. Then Michael looked deep into Gina’s eyes and said, “I’m scared to see him again Gina.  If I do, I’ll kill him.”  Michael grated his teeth as he delivered the words and he meant it.  Gina smiled at him and quietly left the room.

At the morning nurse diligently made her rounds, she opened the curtains beside Michael’s bed.   Sunlight flooded the room and penetrated his closed eyelids.

“Rise and shine!” she said in a bubbly voice.  “You have an important visitor this morning Mr. Raphael.”

Michael wiped the sleep from his eyes while he raised the back of his motorized hospital bed.

“My wife?” he asked. “Nobody could be more important than her and my little girl.”

Michael spoke loudly as he noticed his wife carrying Vixy into the room from the corner of his eye.

“Good answer babe.” Kalina looked dazzling as she walked across the polished vinyl tile floor. Her long, shining hair flowed gracefully as her high heels clicked with each step.  She was a sight for sore eyes.  Her makeup was applied perfectly and her sun dress clung to her upper thighs as she walked.  A thin leather belt with a multicolored rhinestone encrusted buckle accentuated her narrow waistline.  The light material fell gracefully over her toned and tan shoulders while a single white gold chain holding a large pink tourmaline stone encircled by tiny diamonds dangled between her breasts.  She looked as if she just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.  In turn, Vixy looked adorable.  She wore a beautiful pink flowered headband holding her light golden back from her cherub face.  Her brightly colored dress was spotted with a wild flower pattern.  It hung above her white leotard and pink patent leather Mary Jane shoes.

“What the hell is going on here?” Michael asked with a chuckle in his voice. “You guys are dressed for a photo shoot.”

“Don’t you know Mr. Raphael?” the nurse said as she disconnected Michael’s monitors.  “The Mayor is here to see you.”

“Seems like everyone knows but me huh?”

“We brought you a change of clothes.”  Kalina looked down at a leather duffel bag at her feet.

“I have some good news babe.” She could barely fight the smile back, “You’re coming home today.”

Michael was elated but he never really stopped to think about how quickly he was healing.  He just wanted to get out of the hospital bed and go back to his life.

“Wow, so soon huh?” Michael shot a glance at the nurse.

“Well, the doctor has reviewed your progress and determined that you’re able to be discharged.”

“Discharged babe! Isn’t that great?” Kalina said with a song in her voice.  “I have all your clothes here.  Just wash up and get dressed.”

“What about the mayor?” he asked reluctantly.

“They are downstairs in a private conference room waiting for us.  His assistant told me to take as much time as we needed.  They’re nice people babe, really.”

“Well, let’s get this over with.”

Michael scooted off the bed and stood up.  He stood still for a moment to gather his bearings.

“You okay babe?”

“Just a little light headed.” he replied.

“It’s to be expected Mr. Raphael.” the nursed added. “After laying down for over twenty-four hours you’re body has to readjust itself.  No need to worry unless it continues or intensifies.”

Michael gathered his composure for a brief second and walked over to his wife.  He looked deeply into her eyes and hugged her tightly.  “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be able to hug you baby.” he whispered in her ear as they embraced.

“I love you Michael.” she whispered back.  Little Vixy clung to Michael’s leg moaning softly indicating she wanted Michael to pick her up.

“Daddy’s hurt baby.” “He can’t pick you up yet.” Kalina bent over to pick up Victoria and raised her to Michael’s chest so she could hug him.  Group hugs were a common practice in the Raphael home.  The three locked in a warm embrace for a few moments.

“I love you guys so much.” Michael said quietly.

Michael walked to the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind him.  He paused and looked at his stubble in the mirror.  Michael looked in the shaving kit for his razor and began to shave. 

“Much better.” he said aloud as he emerged from the bathroom.  He wore a crisp, white collard shirt, black Marino wool, v-neck sweater and perfectly pressed black trousers.  His gold St. Christopher medal hung from his neck prominently.

“Wow!” Kalina said when she saw him emerge clean and fresh. “You look like my husband again!” she smiled at him lovingly and he smiled back.

“I guess we should get this over with.” Michael said referring to meeting the Mayor.

“Come on babe, people eat this stuff up. They love real life hero stories.”  Kalina took his hand and smiled at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” “I guess so.” “Let’s go.”

Michael scanned the room one last time and realized he forgot the note Gina left him on top of the newspaper.

“Wait a sec hon.  I forgot something.” He reached for the note in the envelope and grabbed the newspaper with it.

“What’s that?” Kalina asked.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” “I had a visitor last night.” He looked at her to see her reaction.

“You forgot?  Who was it?”

“Uh, Gina, what’s her name?”

“Wilcox?”

“Bingo!” Michael tapped the tip of his nose with his index finger.

“When did she visit you? I left you dozing off at 10 o’clock, what time was she here?”

“Around 11:30 I think.  I had woken up just before she came.  She was pretty shaken up.”

“I bet she was, poor thing.  I couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling.  What did she say to you?”

“Well, she said she didn’t expect me to be awake and that she was just going to leave this note.” he showed the envelope to her. “But she found me awake and spoke with me for a little while.”

“And?”

“And what?” “She just told me how grateful she was.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I just played it off.  I told her anyone in my position would have done the same for her.”

“Then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was that all?” she asked.

“Yeah, pretty much.  She cried a little bit.  I felt bad, but what can I do? Then I asked her if she knew the guy.”

“Knew him?” Kalina wrinkled her forehead when she spoke. “What kind of a question is that?”  “Why the hell should she know him?”

“I don’t know babe.  I was just curious.”  “Sometimes things like that happen.”

“Yeah, I guess.” “It’s still a weird question though.”

“Maybe, but it just popped in my head.  Sometimes I talk before I think.  My bad.”

She took his arm just before they left the room and looked him in the eye.

“Are you going to keep in touch with her?”

“Now why would I do that babe?” Michael asked the question but knew why she asked.

Even though Kalina knew Michael would never cheat on her and he loved her more than anything, she hated to vie for his attention.  He had a tendency to give his attention willingly at times and she wanted to be sure the field was clear.  Something deep inside her felt a little twinge of jealousy when he gave another woman his attention.  She couldn’t help it, it was in her nature, and he loved it.  It underlined the fact that she still was “in” love with him.

“I doubt it babe.”  “I just want to put this whole fiasco behind us.”

Michael spoke the truth and he knew Kalina needed to hear it.

“We’ll see.” she said with skepticism.

They left the room holding hands.  Victoria held her daddy’s other hand as they made there way down the hallway.  Michael’s imagination was running wild.  He was anxious about the meeting with the Mayor.

“Hey, I forgot the cigars the Mayor sent!”

“I didn’t.” Kalina smiled and showed Michael what was in the hand he was not holding.   He grinned.

“What would I do with you babe?” he squeezed her hand a little and kept walking down the ICU corridor with his family by his side.

Revelation by Michael Mancini: Chapter Five

Chapter Five - Inquiring Minds Want to Know

            Nicholas Nevsky took sip from the small white espresso cup in his hand and carefully placed it back on the saucer.  Fixated on an article picked up by the associated press, he never took his eyes off the newspaper as he put the cup down.  He was transfixed on an article entitled “Герой”.  Translated into English from Bulgarian it read “Hero”.

Nevsky was a stout man approximately five foot eleven inches in height.  We wore a well groomed salt and pepper beard which matched his short grayish white hair.  Always wearing simple clothes and comfortable shoes, he could be found, more often than not, with his reading glasses midway down the bridge of his nose.  He wore them just so he might easily look over them while he was reading to see beyond the book, and he was always reading.  Nevsky, now in his late sixties, had a scholarly and well read air about his character.  His movements were precise and calculated and among English he spoke several other languages, all with a mild Russian accent.

Although Nevsky was a man of the “cloth”, he was more in touch with the secular world than many of his colleagues.  He was well versed in current events, and could often be found traveling about Europe in search of historical evidence supporting many of the topics he based his career on.  Holding a PhD in Religious Theology from Oxford University had its perks, but he remained a humble and “down to earth” fellow.

A student of many languages, Nevsky spoke German, Polish, Latin, Italian, French, Spanish, Bulgarian and Russian fluently.  A native of Russia and raised during the Cold War, he found it helpful to speak German along with many of the Romance languages to avoid trouble while he moved about Europe to further his education.  He was perhaps most fond of the English language and wrote most if not all of his research and published works in American English.  It seemed the most logical language from an academic publisher’s standpoint.  Now, living in Bulgaria, Nevsky found he used Bulgarian more often than not.  He lived in a remote area of the Eastern European country, and enjoyed the unspoiled beauty it possessed.  The mountains of Rila proved a valuable environment in helping him commune with his thoughts without interruption. 

The monastery of Saint Ivan of Rila is where he lived.  Better known as the Rila Monastery, it is the oldest Orthodox monastery in Bulgaria. Nestled in the southwestern Rila Mountains, seventy-three miles south of Sofia the Bulgarian capital, it’s named after Saint Ivan who lived as a hermit there most of his life.  Founded in the 10th century, the Rila Monastery is regarded as one of Bulgaria's most important cultural, historical and architectural monuments.  It is celebrated throughout the whole of Europe for its beauty and serenity.  Founded by St. Ivan during the rule of Tsar Peter I from 927 to 968 AD, the religious center acted as a depository of Bulgarian language and culture in the ages of foreign rule. Destroyed by fire in 1833 and reconstructed by 1862 because of its significance both culturally and spiritually, the monastery has developed an extensive library of ancient works second only to the Vatican in Rome.  Nevsky was instrumental in building this library to monumental proportions during his twenty three years of teaching here and was rewarded for his work by recognition by the Catholic Church in 2002 shortly after the pilgrimage of Pope John Paul II on May 25, 2002 to its hallowed grounds.

The monastery was declared a national historical monument in 1976 and a World Heritage Site in 1983 and plays an important role in the continuing development and spiritual enlightenment for many.  The museum is particularly famous for housing Rafail's Cross, a wooden cross made from singe piece of wood.  Crafted by the monk Rafail over the course of 12 years, it was completed in 1802.  Standing two and a half feet tall by seventeen inches wide, the religious item recreates 104 religious scenes and 650 miniature figures.  After it’s completion the monk lost his sight.

Nevsky’s home held great mystery.  Many of the secrets it contained were known only to Nevsky himself.  He held many ancient and coveted works of literature never displayed in the museum.  In fact, most, of the other monks at the monastery had no knowledge of the items he studied and archived, let alone where he kept them.

Nevsky’s life work revolved around one main topic, the constant battle between good and evil, between God and Satan.  His work sometimes got him into trouble with the Catholic Church in Rome but because of his notoriety in academic circles, and the large sums of money he generated with his publications and endowments, he always seemed to avoid serious repercussions.

Nevsky read the newspaper article about Michael carefully.  What held his attention was not the heroism as much as the hero’s name.  Michael G. Raphael captured his attention to a point of fixation.  He had to learn more about this man.  He had questions the article could not begin to answer and he was going to leverage all of his contacts to facilitate meeting his quasi-famous hero.

He slowly crunched on the last bite of biscotti he ate with his coffee.  Nevsky had a massive sweet tooth and was sure to enjoy the twice baked cookies while visited Rome.  In fact, the supply he brought back from his last trip was almost exhausted indicating a trip to the Vatican might be in order.  He could collect information on Raphael while there from his contacts at the University of Rome.  He wiped his mouth with the white cotton cloth that he had laying across his right leg and placed it on the table next to his empty cup.  He finished the article and folded the paper sharply along the edge to facilitate tearing it from the rest of the paper.  He moistened the fold with a little saliva on his finger and tore it carefully from the body of the page.  Once he extracted it, he folded it carefully and stuck it into his pocket.  Then, he looked out from the veranda where he sat.

The midday sun was bright and warm on his face.  It cast a golden hue over the valley of Rila and up the sides of the mountains.  The view was majestic when in full bloom.  Hundreds of beautiful colored alpine flowers burst into a mosaic of color that blanketed the entire valley.  It was a marvelous display of nature he looked forward to each year.  The miles of endless color painting the valley all jumbled together reminded him of standing too close a great impressionist painting.  A patron of the arts, he admired the impressionists endlessly while visiting the Louvre in Paris.  The view of the valley tickled his fancy just like the extraordinary works of art he loved.

Nevsky swallowed a deep breath of fresh clean mountain air and watched as Egyptian Vultures and Honey Buzzards danced high on the afternoon thermals.  The warm air raised them so high in the clear cobalt sky that one could barely see them with the naked eye.  He knew what species of birds they were by the way the circled and glided effortlessly.  He had watched them many a summer day and often wondered how insignificant he must look to them while they soared way above him.  Blinking from the strain on his eyes, he looked back down at the table, stood up to stretch his legs, and walked to the arched doorway leading to his quarters.  He walked through the modestly decorated bed chamber and knelt beside the bed.  At that moment he heard a soft knock at the heavy wooden entry door to his room.

“Yes?” he said from his kneeling position at his bedside.

The latch clicked and the door creaked open.  A young Bulgarian monk poked his head in the room from the other side of the door.  He spoke English in a thick Bulgarian accent.

“Oh, sorry father.” he said with an apologetic tone in his voice.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your prayer”.

“It’s alright Georgi.  I wasn’t praying.  I was getting my travel bag.”  “Here,” he motioned with his hand, “Come give me a hand.”

Georgi blushed as he entered the room and hurried to grab the bag for Nevsky.  “Here father, let me.”

Nevsky leaned on the bed and pushed himself up from the floor.  He leaned over to brush a little dust from his trousers.  “Thanks Georgi” he said while he walked over to his dresser.

“Just leave it there on the bed Georgi.  I can take it from here.”

“Going somewhere father?” Georgi asked.

“Just a little trip to Rome.” he replied.

“Want some company?” Georgi said hopefully.

“If you like Georgi, you are welcome to come.”

“What’s the trip for father?”

“Just a little fact finding mission.” Nevsky smiled as he said the words.  “Well, actually, I need more cookies.”  Georgi laughed.

“Ah, mixing business with pleasure I see.”

“Is there any other way son?” Nevsky placed some clean underclothing in the large leather bag as Georgi watched him.

“Perhaps you want to begin packing Georgi?”

“Oh, I’m sorry father.  I drifted off there for a second.”

“Don’t drift too far Georgi, of you will make me miss my train.” Nevsky smiled.

Georgi was not the brightest young monk he had the pleasure of teaching but what he lacked in smarts, he made up in heart.  Georgi was always attentive to Nevsky’s needs and ever willing to lend a hand when needed so Nevsky tolerated his obtuse persona.  He was average height but lanky in stature and hunched his shoulders slightly.    He ate like a horse but never gained any weight and always avoided confrontation.  His voice was soft and generally unnoticeable when he spoke.  Nevsky felt sorry for him but did not pity Georgi, but rather, he treated him just like everyone else; with respect and dignity.

“I will meet you downstairs in half an hour.  Please phone us a taxi cab to bring us to the train station.”

“Yes father.  I will.” he looked down as he spoke.

“Also, have Alec pack us a small snack and a light dinner for the ride please.  We can get some Italian food tomorrow when we arrive.  But we may get hungry on the ride.  I am not sure they have a dining car on the late train.”

“Right father, better to be safe than sorry, I’ll tell him.” Georgi said subserviently.

Georgi left the room as swiftly as he entered.  He loved taking short trips with Nevsky because he knew the best places to eat and to sleep.  Every trip they took seemed more like an adventure than an excursion.  Life could become quite mundane at the monastery so the infrequent distraction was always welcomed.

Nevsky chuckled to himself and shook his head as he continued packing his bag.  The soft spot he had for Georgi was sometimes crippling when a tough decision had to be made, but he liked his company when they traveled.  Georgi had no family to speak of and did little traveling on his own.  He had been with the monastery for just over a decade.  Georgi was named him his personal assistant a few months after Nevsky returned from his excursion to the Italian Alps in the fall of 1991 and held the station ever since.  Years back, Nevsky taught a Religious Theology class at the University of Rome and was asked to conduct some top secret research in the Alps after an ancient scientific discovery was reported by some hikers.  When they returned, Nevsky was in need of an assistant to catalog selected portions of his library, and Georgi was willing to help.  He took direction and never complained of boredom no matter how tedious the activity.  Nevsky came to trust Georgi like a son so the two were often seen together in Rila and abroad.

They rode in the back seat of the taxi in silence while Nevsky reread Defoe’s “Robinson Crusoe”.  He held the book as steady as possible as the vehicle bounced over the many bumps and holes in the poorly maintained streets that plagued Bulgaria.  It was the fifth or sixth time reading the novel, but it was a quick read and one of his favorites.

Georgi’s eyes darted back and forth quickly as he followed the buildings and trees passing by his window.  He seemed a little more distracted than usual which caught Nevsky’s attention.

“Everything okay Georgi?”  Nevsky peered over his reading glasses at him.

“Huh?” Georgi replied.

“Is everything alright?”  Nevsky looked at him curiously.

“Um, yeah…Everything is fine.”

“You seem a little distracted, more than usual.  What’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing, nothing at all.” Georgi continued to stare out of the window.  He did his best to make his reply sound genuine but Nevsky picked up on the underlying subtlety of his tones.  He knew he was hiding something but he could not put his finger on it so he decided not to press him and returned to the book where Crusoe had just discovered footprints in the sand on his beach.  Seconds later, Nevsky glanced at Georgi again.  He still had the same blank expression on his face.  Nevsky decided to bridge the topic again when Georgi might be a little more talkative.

Revelation by Michael Mancini : Chapter Four

Chapter Four – Strange Visitor

      From the city street, the hospital appeared dim and quiet.  All the windows were dark.  The flickering of bluish light emitted from the televisions playing silently as the patients slumbered could be seen occasionally through the shades.  Michael, lying silently in his hospital bed, barely blinking his wide, tired eyes, stared at a sliver of florescent light coming from under his door.  The recent events in his mind swirled tempestuously as he desperately tired to spark a latent memory.  The series of events that forced him into the Intensive Care Unit still eluded him.

The stillness of the night began to fuel his memory.  Without the distraction of visitors and the nursing staff intruding, Michael could meditate.  He frequently used meditation to help relieve stress, a technique he perfected while incarcerated.  Meditation meant mental escape from the confines of jail.  His cell mate, a black man named Christopher Adair, taught him how to clear his mind.  The challenges of growing up in the southern United States as a black man during the 1960s and1970s carried its own type of “confinement”.  The experience gave him a set of survival skills that most white American males would never formulate, given their upbringing in white society.  The self preservation method worked well and came in handy in high stress situations.  He smiled to himself as he quietly thanked Chris for the wisdom he shared. 

Michael found it ironic that the man he was locked up with in a cramped eight by ten cell for six months shared the same name as his patron saint.  Living in the cramped and stressful environment drew them as close together as some war veterans.  The kind of closeness rarely exhibited in the “real world” by opposite races.  Michael preferred thinking of his confinement in civilized terms and likened the relationship to a “war buddies” scenario.  The two friends shared much of their life lessons with each other in relatively short period of time.  It was a meaningful and retrospective time in Michael’s life. 

Michael closed his eyes and focused on clearing his head.  The meditation began to work.  In a state of anamnesis, he found himself back in the alleyway where the events unfolded.  Last night’s traumatic events revealed themselves as if a movie played out in his head.

The tunnel was dark with the exception of dim light spilling in from the end.  Visibility was poor as the muffled sounds of the street grew fainter.  Ahead in the tunnel, next to the brick wall, he could see the faint outline of someone moving.  Inching closer the frightening noise of muffled screaming became apparent.  Focusing hard on the movement, he now made out two distinct silhouettes, one figure on top of the other.  As he cautiously approaches, he soon realizes that he is witnessing a rape in progress.  Seeing more detail, he witnessed a filthy middle aged man forcing himself onto a young and very attractive young woman.  With one hand, he managed to hold both of hers above her head.  He held his grimy free hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.  His dirty long fingernails cut into her delicate and soft cheek as his scuzzy hand pressed tightly down over her soft lips barely allowing her to breath.  Her blue eyes, filled with tears, bulged with broken blood vessels from screaming.  Michael could see the terror in them as she struggled for her life.   Her blond hair, matted with saliva and tears, was caught between his grubby hand and her mouth.  She struggled desperately as the man forced himself on her.  Oblivious to Michael’s approach, the man continued his feverish attempt at raping the poor girl, but she saw Michael through her teary eyes while she screamed helplessly into the assailant’s foul hand.

Her eyes locked with Michael’s as he appeared to her over the rapist’s shoulder secretly screaming “help me”.  Her innocent blue eyes drowning in hopelessness enraged him as, for a split second, the image of his sweet young daughter Victoria flashed through his mind’s eye.  He felt as if he was witnessing his own daughter being defiled as his temper swelled.  Michael leapt into action.  He moved as if someone or something controlled him, as if he no longer could control his own body.

Tightly clenching his right fist, he swung viciously at the man from behind connecting precisely at the assailant’s temple.  The blow was swift, hard and completely unexpected.  Stunned, his hand slipped off the young girl’s mouth allowing her screams to echo in the long corridor.  As the criminal dropped to the ground, Michael helped the terrified girl to her feet.  As turned his back, the rapist, now on his hands and knees, realized what had happened.  Agitated and frightened he reached into his jacket and pulled out a long shank of sharpened steel.  Michael felt the pain of sharp cold steel plunge deep into his side.  The rapist turned and fled as quickly as his feet would carry him as Michael fell to his knees clutching his side.  As the assailant’s footsteps faded, the girl’s loud plea for help became a distant echo in his ears.  Michael’s face pressed slowly into the cold concrete as his warm blood collected into a large puddle beneath him.

As he opened his eyes from the vision, Michael noticed his hand began to shake as a wave of disbelief mixed with fear overcame him.  The events that just played out in his mind seemed so distant from reality, so convoluted and unlike anything he could imagine himself capable of doing, he barely believed it.  He slowly began peeling back the sterile white cotton dressing over his wound.  Blood leaked through the thick sterile gauze pad tapped to his side.  The heart monitor still connected to his fingertip began to steadily increase with each second.  His mind and heart raced as he slowly revealed the jagged gash mark made by the rapist’s blade.  Stainless steel surgical staples pierced his skin holding together the craggy laceration.  Caked with dried blood, it looked like some horrific Frankenstein makeup from a b-rated horror film.  Evidence of the Betadine antiseptic solution stained his skin around the deep gash.  The pain he felt in his ribcage as he sat up hinted at the depth of the wound.

Michael’s anxiety gave way to rage.  He hated himself for getting involved in this mess.  He had no connection to the girl and had no idea why the rapist did what he did, nor did he care.  Michael had a wife and a child to protect which should be first priority.  Michael convinced himself he had no right to get involved. He decided that his actions were not heroic but blatantly stupid and vowed never to put himself in harms way for anyone other than his family again.  Now he had to deal with the media bugging him and he knew they would ask stupid questions completely unrelated to the incident.  He would have to explain why he went to jail so many years ago and his motivation for helping victim. Beginning to feel a little nauseous he knew he had to calm down.

Suddenly the door handle his hospital room began slowly turning.  He quickly glanced at the clock, it seemed later than it was, but visiting hours were certainly over.  As the door opened, the room flooded with bright light from the hallway temporarily blinding him.  He squinted to allow his eyes to adjust and made out a female figure standing in the doorway.  Almost completely naked from looking at his wounds, he jumped to cover his exposed privates.  The young woman standing in the doorway was noticeably embarrassed and quickly averted her eyes when she saw Michael’s naked torso exposed.  Stunned to see who quietly walked into his room, the embarrassment on Michael’s face gave way to surprise.

Revelation by Michael Mancini: Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Not Once, Not Twice but…

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air while Shaw, Kalina and Michael waited for the doctor to arrive.  Occasional beeps and twangs emanated from the multitude of monitors and machines Michael was hooked up to.  Barely blinking, Michael stared blankly at the foot of his hospital bed with a look of confusion affixed to his face.  The three pondered in deep thought when Vixy broke uncomfortable silence with a single word.

“Up?” she said in a soft angelic voice as she tugged on the hospital bed sheets.

She wanted to get onto the bed with her father like she did in the early mornings at home after she woke up.  Kalina picked her up and sat her gently on her daddy’s lap where he admired her with pride and waited for the diagnosis.  Michael’s hospital bed was now in the upright position and he seemed confused but much less groggy.

Victoria, the light of Michael’s life, was born to him in his early forties.  By then, much of his juvenile angst had dissipated and he was able to truly appreciate the beauty of being a parent. 

“Hello Poopelo!” he said with great effort in a falsetto voice.  “Poopelo” was a nickname Michael gave to Victoria when she was a newborn.  It had no definition in Webster’s Dictionary but the word represented a great deal of affection towards his daughter when it came out of his mouth.  Vixy smiled as she tried to grab the IV tube delivering saline directly into his Michael’s bloodstream through the tiny catheter embedded in his hand.

“Ah, no, no Vixy” her mother grabbed her hand.  She tried again.  “Did you hear what I said?” Vixy whined in displeasure but gave up sensing her mother’s displeasure at her actions.  Turning his attention to Shaw, still in bewilderment regarding the events leading up to his hospitalization, he asked him what happened.

“Dude, why don’t you fill me in?”  Michael asked.

“Mike, you saved a girls life.  How could you not remember?” Shaw replied.

“What do you mean, saved a girls life?” Michael winced as he asked.  His nostrils flared slightly and his voice dropped.

Kalina leaned over the bed-rail and whispered, “She was being raped Michael.  You stopped the guy and got hurt in the fray.”

“What?  When the hell did that happen…where did it happen?” Michael asked becoming agitated.

“Calm down honey, getting excited is not going to help.  We can explain but maybe you want to read this first.”  Kalina grabbed one of the copies of the newspaper she had neatly stacked on top of his bedside table.  She had fifteen copies total, and intended on saving one for the family scrapbook after she proudly handed out the rest to her family and friends.

“HERO” was the four letter heading spread across the front page of the New York Post.  A large blow photo up of the blond victim Michael unselfishly rescued was inset next to his larger photograph.

“Jeez…where the hell did they get this picture?” Michael sneered as he saw his face in the cover of the newspaper.

“Um, hun, it’s your profile photo on Facebook.” Kalina said sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah…so it is.”

Michael turned to the inside front page and began reading the story.  44-year-old Michael G. Raphael (photo opposite) rescues 26-year-old Gina Wilcox from almost certain death.  A candid photo of Michael and his family taken the previous summer was printed prominently opposite the inside cover page.  Michael read the article aloud as his mouth dropped.  Short and sweet, the article painted him as a “real life hero putting the victim’s safety before his own.  When he was finished reading the article he lowered the paper to his lap where Vixy pointed at his picture.  “Daddy?” she said quietly as she poked at the paper.

“They caught the guy?” Michael exclaimed in surprise.

“Yeah buddy.  You did well.” Shaw replied.

“I can’t remember the details Shaw!  Why did I even get involved, what made me do it?”

Michael remembered nothing of the event and it frightened him.  Kalina sensed his frustration and fear.  She grabbed his hand gently.

“I’m proud of you baby.” she said softly as she locked eyes with him.

“I can’t believe it.  I don’t remember a thing.  What the hell happened to me that I can’t remember anything?” he said as his face contorted with concern.

“Besides, since when the hell do I go around saving people?  I hate people!”

“Who the hell ever helped me?” Michael spoke with a mixture of protest and confusion in his voice still shaken by the loss of memory he was suffering.

“Babe, you don’t mean that.  You talk to everyone.  You’re one of the most congenial people I know.” Kalina retorted.

“Hun, just ‘cause I talk to them doesn’t mean I like them.  I just want them to like me.  It doesn’t matter if I like them.”

“Mike, we all know you had it rough, I’ll be the first to agree.  And you’re far from a Philanthropist.  I wouldn’t exactly call you Gandhi, but you have a good heart man.  There is no way you could have let that girl suffer.  You know that.”

Just as the words left Shaw’s mouth, Doctor Keelan walked into the room.  He was a tall, slender man of fifty with a soft spoken voice and strong facial features.  His hair was cut high and tight like a marine, which his peasant manner and quiet persona contradicted.  A white lab coat covered a crisp clean white shirt and an emerald green geometric patterned tie that swung pendulously as he walked towards Michael’s bedside.

“Well, it’s nice to see you conscious Mr. Raphael.”  Dr. Keelan said calmly.  “How are you feeling?”

Kalina jumped in before Michael could reply.

“He’s a bit disoriented doc.” Kalina said with concern.  “He doesn’t remember anything that happened.”

“Yeah Doc, what’s wrong with me?” “Did I hit my head and get amnesia or something?” Michael pulled him self up a little straighter as Kalina removed Victoria from his lap so he could speak with the doctor.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about Mr. Raphael.  We ran tests and scans to rule out any head trauma and we found all normal brain function from the scan.  We were a little concerned about the bruise on your head but no internal damage resulted from the bump, so we are confident your brain suffered no injury.  You are suffering from a slight concussion.”  “However,” he continued, “You lost a great deal of blood.  The type of loss you have experienced can sometimes take a toll on the whole body.  When blood is scarce in the system, the body has a wonderful defense mechanism.  It sends what it can to all the vital organs to avoid systemic failure.”  Michael and the others still looked confused.  Doctor Keelan noticed the confused looks and continued his explanation.

“Let me explain further.  The brain is a vital organ so it continued to receive oxygenated blood during the accident, but the Medulla Oblongata, which controls respiratory functions and the cardiac center areas of the brain received the most to avoid catastrophic failure.  The parts of the brain that control the involuntary motor reflexes receive blood first in a trauma situation such as yours.  Less important areas in a survival situation are the Cerebral Cortex and the Frontal Lobe; they are responsible for cognition, memory functions, and the learning of new information.  The body innately reacts and delivers less blood to these areas when blood is scarce.  Since memory and cognition play a secondary roll in a trauma or crisis situation, you body reacted accordingly.  It is simply a matter of survival Mr. Raphael.  That would explain your loss of memory or inability to recall what happened.”

Shaw interjected.  “So in layman terms, he won’t remember anything because the memory part of his brain wasn’t working at the time doc?”

“Yes and no.” Doctor Keelan replied.  “He may begin to remember small details over time which could help him piece together the event, but it could take some time.  On the other hand, there is no guarantee he will recall anything at all.  Unfortunately it’s not an exact science.”  Dr. Keelan explained.  “At any rate, I need to discuss a topic of some greater importance with you.” his expression became more serious as he looked directly into Michael’s eyes.

“Mr. Raphael, your injuries were serious and as I mentioned before you lost a great deal of blood.  With injuries as severe as you had when you arrived twelve short hours ago, one would assume a significant deal of time would have to pass before a marked improvement could be realized.”

“What are you saying doc?” Michael asked with a look of concern on his face.

“Well, what I am trying to tell you is, I don’t know why you are healing at such an accelerated pace.  The fact that I am even standing here having a normal conversation with you is extremely unusual.”

“Well, what do you mean by accelerated doc?” Shaw inquired.

“Yeah, what does that mean?” Michael and Kalina said in unison.

“Well it means that you are healing at thrice the rate of an average male patient of your age would be expected to recover.”

“Thrice?  What the hell does that mean?” Michael asked.

“It means three times Mike.” Shaw said quietly.

“I know that for crissake!” Michael retorted.  “But, is there something wrong with me?” he looked towards Doctor Keelan as he asked.

“No, no Mr. Raphael, not at all.  In fact, it’s just the opposite.  You are as healthy as a horse.  I’m just very curious that’s all.”

“Well thank God for that.” Michael took a deep breath and looked at Kalina holding Vixy.  “What now?” he asked the doctor as he smiled at his daughter.

“Well, I want to keep you for a little while longer for observation, but if you remain stable, we might be able to release you tomorrow.  Let me make the rest of my rounds and we will talk before I leave for the day.  For now, just take it easy and rest up.  Deal?”

            “What ever you say doc, you’re the boss.” Michael said agreeably.

Doctor Keelan turned towards the door to leave.  As he reached the doorway he turned and said, “Oh, and try to keep those annoying reporters away from my ICU.  They are like a bunch of flies hanging around out there.  I told them you would be allowed to see them after your discharge and not before.  I don’t want a media circus on my floor.” He said as he smiled politely.  “Apparently you have become quite a celebrity Mr. Raphael.” he winked at Michael and exited to the hallway.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room when the doctor left.  The three pondered the meaning of Michael’s accelerated healing.  Michael looked down at Vixy, still on her mother’s hip.  She leaned over the stainless bed rail with her delicate little hand and grabbed for the gold St. Christopher medallion that hung from a long chain around Michael’s neck.

Shaw broke the long, uncomfortable silence with a snide comment.

“Thrice...” he said sarcastically.  “Who the hell talks like that?”

Revelation by Michael Mancini: Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Mind Over Matter

The faint odor of institutional disinfectant penetrated Michael’s nose as he lingered in state of semi-consciousness.  His olfactory senses were slightly more sensitive than most, which rewarded him with wonderful memories at times.  Unfortunately, distasteful odors would bring forth unpleasant emotions as poignantly as pleasant ones.  The chemical odors caused Michael’s mind to spawn nightmare images of six months wasted in jail many years ago.   In his late teens and early twenties, Michael had the uncanny knack of finding himself is a great deal of trouble and he suffered the consequences of a rebellious youth. 

His hidden mental scars resurfaced repeatedly as his eyes darted back and forth beneath his flickering eyelids.  Images of cold steel bars and grayish hues of painted concrete defaced with black ink graffiti haunted him.  The myriad of aspiring prisoner artists confined in the cell before him not only marred the walls, they left a mark of despair on his heart.  Hotel staff took painstaking measures to eradicate evidence of past habitation in their guest rooms.  Michael’s jailors wanted him agonizingly aware of former prisoner confinement.  Somehow it made his release seem beyond reach and the graffiti paid homage to his confinement.  He was rarely cognizant of the mental scars the traumatic experience left and they resurfaced at the most inconvenient times.

His dreams of jail gave way to even more disturbing images.  They melded into a nightmare so severe Michael’s eyes began to tear.  He never experienced such realistic terror before.  Even though he was slightly aware of his slumber, it felt as if the events were unfolding in real time.  He watched helplessly as images of his own mortality were exploited.  A tall thin figure of a man, barely recognizable, beat him senseless.  Bright red blood flowed from his nose and mouth profusely.  It spilled out across the front of the grey, one piece, workman overalls he wore in the dream.  Both of his eyes were blackened from repeated beating.  He was barely able to open his blood filled lids due to swelling.  His hands were bound behind his back where he sat tied to a wooden chair.

The gruesome scene played out in what seemed like a large, beautifully decorated dining room of sorts.  Crisp white linen, fine Waterford crystal and Tiffany silver adorned the round table in the center of the vast room.  The vivid and loud sound of classical music rang in his ears.  It seemed to come from all angles as it engulfed him.

As the Intermezzo from "Cavalleria Rusticana" played prominently, its solemn harmony was punctuated by the loud crack of a boney fist against his flesh each time he was struck.  Blood dripped from the knuckles of the thin man who beat him as a group of well dressed and affluent onlookers applauded with each blow Michael received.  Barely visible through his bloodied eyes, he made out ten figures in all excluding the man who repeatedly beat him.  All the faces were unknown to him but were eerily familiar.  Just as it seemed he couldn’t bear the agony any longer, the beating stopped.  In single file each one of the onlookers left the room in a solemn fashion.  The dream faded.

“Something’s wrong.” she said as she watched his eyes flickering.  The light blue pastel skirt and turquoise leather sandals Kalina wore accentuated her long and defined tan legs as she stood over Michael’s hospital bed.  It hung loosely around her upper thighs and rested lightly on her buttocks hinting at the mystery of her beauty beneath the clinging silk.

“He’s tearing Shaw, look.” her long, thick, shiny black hair fell across her delicate face as she looked down at Michael lying helplessly in the hospital bed.  She knew how much Michael loved her fragrant thick mane of hair and hoped he was pleased to see it when he regained his consciousness.  Often, at night, when the two would lay together watching television, Michael would run his fingers though the long luxurious strands making, slow combing motions for hours.  It comforted her deeply and she missed it terribly while she stared at him lying in the hospital bed.

“What do you think he is dreaming about?” she whispered allowed.  She began to tear herself but fought to remain stoic.  She was a strong woman not easily jarred, but seeing the man she loved in this condition wreaked havoc on her.  The ever-present green sparkle in her eye was missing, compromised by a lack of sleep and distress.  She needed him to wake up and soon.  Life without him would be unbearable.  She wiped the tear from her delicate cheek so Shaw couldn’t see it.

As she leaned over the railing at Michael’s bedside, Shaw could see the faint outline of her thong underwear beneath it.  He quickly averted his eyes when he realized he was staring at her.  It made him uncomfortable when his masculine side sometimes over shadowed his gentlemen like persona.  His love for Michael had extended to his wife Kalina and baby daughter Victoria.  Many good years had been shared between Shaw and the Raphael family.  His emotions for Kalina more closely resembled that of a sibling relationship than anything else.  In turn, he felt as if little Victoria was his own niece.  The feelings were accentuated each time Vixy called him “Uncle” representing the closeness of the relationship.  Unfortunately he found it difficult at times not to steal a glimpse of Michael’s young and beautiful wife.  She had that effect on men.  What made her even more attractive is that she was truly oblivious to her charms.  Her modesty was profound.  The infrequent peek never manifested to fantasy but male programming is sometimes difficult to control.  The incident caused him to chuckle to himself.  The age difference was almost twenty years between them but he never met a woman as mature, centered and honest as Kalina.  She truly was Michael’s saving grace.

“Don’t worry, he’ll wake up.”  Shaw tried his best to ease Kalina’s concern as he delicately placed his hand over hers and stared down at his best friend.  The gold wedding ring on her finger matched Michael’s.  She had picked them out five years ago and she never took it off.  Her left hand grasped the cold tubular stainless steel bed rail while she held Victoria at her right hip.

“Soon Shaw, I hope its soon.” she whispered as she glanced at the gold St. Christopher medallion around Michael’s neck.  “It’s been unbearable not knowing what he is feeling or thinking.” “I feel helpless and I hate it.” Her lips tightened and she gritted her teeth in frustration.  The definition in her jaw line became pronounced as she raised her eyes to meet Shaw’s.  “He’s never done something like this before.”  “I don’t know what came over him.”

“Me either Keeks.”  Shaw replied.  “I know he’s not one to put himself out for other people but he’s a good man, so maybe instinct kicked in and he reacted without thinking.” Shaw raised his left eyebrow involuntarily as the words left his mouth.

Kalina’s brow wrinkled with concern as she spoke.  “I’m sure he never would have deliberately put himself in harms way, but I just can’t stand looking at him like this Shaw.”  “It scares me to think of life without him.”  Kalina looked back down at Michael and placed her hand on his chest.  Her fingernails were short and well manicured painted “summer coral” to match her pedicure.  The color played nicely opposite the golden glow of Kalina’s tan.  Michael loved Kalina’s beautiful hands and feet.  It was one of the physical attributes he always complimented her on.  Just prior to the tragic event, Michael, Kalina and Victoria spent a wonderful, sun drenched, ten days in Nassau.  The Bahamas was Michael’s favorite place to steal away.  He had visited the island frequently as a bachelor and now loved to take his family there.  He became so familiar with the Caribbean island he even developed some close friendships with some of the natives.

Victoria began squirming and moaning.  She wanted her mother to put her down so she could explore the room.  Her constant inquisitiveness was getting the best of her and her mother knew it so she placed her gently on the floor so she could move about the room.

Bright sunlight illuminated bunches of brightly colored flowers on the hospital window sill.  They stood witness to Michael’s heroic event.  Mylar balloons and a box of cigars sat next to them patiently waiting for him to regain his health.  A small note that accompanied the gift simply read, “Get well Michael, NYC loves you”.  It was signed by the Mayor of New York and no doubt was sent to take advantage of the photo opportunity that would come after he woke up.

Vixy walked around the bed to the small side table and opened the drawers to investigate what was inside.  She grasped the comb in her tiny hands and removed it quickly along with several clean pillow cases, one at a time, discarding them on the floor at her little feet.  Her curiosity was endless.  Since she was able to point her finger, anything within her view was fair game.  Right around her first birthday a ritual began with her father.  Michael would spend hours carrying her around their home while she pointed at things she could not reach from the floor.  She loved to delicately touch the items over and over again.  No matter how many times she felt them, she hungered for more.  Colorful pictures hanging on the wall were here favorite items to touch.  The colors and shapes attracted her and she was curious to discover how they felt.  As she removed a small plastic cup and plastic straws from the bedside drawer, Kalina walked over to show her how to put them back where they belong.

She squatted next to Victoria and began speaking calmly and nicely to her.

“Put them back now hunny.” She said in a tone only a mother of endless patients could deliver.  Another of Kalina’s natural attributes was an innate talent for raising children, especially her own.

As they returned the items to the bedside table drawer, the floor nurse walked into the room.  She was dressed in hospital green scrubs and wore yellow Crocks on her feet that made a funny sound on the spotless floor in the ICU.  Vixy was instantly drawn to the sounds and immediately noticed the fluffy red socks the nurse was wearing visible through the many holes in the shoes.  She looked down at her own feet and saw her red socks protruding above the ankle line of her tiny sneakers.  Her little sneakers were red and white to match the red polka dot skirt her mother dressed her in this morning.  Kalina loved to dress Vixy up in cute little outfits.  She had thousands of pictures saved in digital format to prove it.  Kalina photo chronicled every moment of Vixy’s life.  Sometimes, for the many hours they spent at home while Michael worked, Kalina would try several outfits on Vixy and have photos sessions with her Canon EOS digital camera.  She loved to post them on Facebook for everyone to see and felt proud of her beautiful little daughter.  She wanted everyone she knew to experience the joy she did when she looked at her little girl.

“How’s our hero doing this morning?”  The nurse grabbed the medical chart hanging on the clip board at the foot of Michael’s hospital bed.  She looked down at Vixy and smiled.  “And how’s the little princess?”  “That’s a beautiful dress.” She declared in a childlike tone.  She glanced approvingly at Kalina.  “That’s a very cute outfit.”  She said as she smiled.  She looked back down at Vixy who was now soaking up the attention.  “I especially like the color of your socks.”  “They’re just like mine see?”  She pointed down at the dots of red showing through her shoes.  Vixy noticed the similarity even before the nurse pointed it out and repeated the word “see?”  The nurse smiled and turned her attention to the patient chart.

Past middle age and obviously a seasoned professional, the mother-of-pearl name tag pinned to the pocket of her scrubs read, “Barbara Mangini, RN”.  The hospital only allowed veteran staff to attend ICU patients, especially the quasi famous ones.  It was delicate work dealing with patients on the razors edge of life and death.  From a liability standpoint it was better to be safe than sorry.

She stood a stout five foot tall and looked as emotionally scared as a field medic with battle fatigue.  Decades of personal care for her patients had engraved a “care-worn” look to her appearance.  Her salt and pepper hair was neatly tied up in a bun crowning her head.  Deep set wrinkles about her face and neck were evident.  A never ending stream of worried loved ones visited the ICU daily and Barbara had developed a profoundly caring touch and a pleasant smile which suited the environment perfectly.  She was genuine, personal and heartfelt as she explained the seriousness of the situation to them and took great pride in her work.

“Well, we are showing some marked improvement here.” she stated auspiciously.  She continued to make notations on the chart.  Pleased and visibly surprised at Michael’s progress she looked at Shaw and Kalina earnestly.

“I must admit, he is progressing much faster than we had expected.” “He lost a great deal of blood.” she continued.  “He was in very serous condition when he came in last night.”  She looked directly at Kalina.  Knowing instantly what she was experiencing from the look on her face she flashed a smile.  “He is still sedated but we have discontinued the sedative so he should be waking up soon”.

“Thank you Barbara.”  “I really appreciate your candor.”  Kalina said sincerely.

“You’ve been wonderful these past twelve hours.” She looked down at Michael.  He was still in REM.

“Well, my shift is over so I will say my goodbyes to you all.”  She knelt down to Vixy’s level.  “Especially you princess.”  Vixy was peeking from behind her mommy’s leg doing her best to appear shy.  A clean but crumpled pillow case still rested on the floor at her feet.

“Thank you for all your help Barbara.” Shaw said an authoritative “cop like” tone in his voice.  It was a habit he barely even noticed.  Years of police work gave Shaw certain mannerisms that hinted at his profession constantly.  His job was hard to mistake when one witnessed his conduct and clean cut, immaculate presentation.

“I hate to say this, but I hope I won’t see you again for my next shift.”  Barbara said back.  She smiled, crossed her fingers on both of her hands and held them out in front of her in an obvious gesture of hope.  “Take care now.”  She turned and left the room.

Vixy was fixated on the sound from her shoes and followed her to the door.  Kalina called after her.

“Vix, come here hunny.  She has to go baby.” she said gently.

Vixy looked up at her mother over her delicate little shoulder and flashed her sparkling green eyes.  She obeyed and toddled over to her mommy.   As she made her way across the room, she noticed something about her daddy.  “Look.” She muttered as she pointed at her father with her little finger.

Michael squinted as he tried to adjust his eyes to the brightness of the room.  He inadvertently yanked on the intravenous tube hanging from his hand as raised it to rub the bruise on his brow.

“Christ.  What a headache.” he muttered.  His voice was dry and horse.

“Michael!” “Thank God!”  Kalina darted towards the bed.

Shaw approached with a relieved look on his face.  “What’s up Jackass?” he inquired sarcastically.  “What the hell made you decided to get all righteous on us there buddy?”

“What happened?” Michael asked.

“What happened?” Shaw said furrowing his eyebrows.  “You ruined a perfectly good night out!” Shaw ribbed Michael but confusion overshadowed the comedy.

“Really.” Michael said sarcastically as he felt the bruise on his head.

“Are you serious?” “You really don’t remember what happened buddy?” Shaw expressed concern.

“No.” “The last thing I remember was leaving you guys to get my cell phone from Cormac”.  His confusion was evident and genuine.

“Really?”  Shaw shot a concerned glance at Kalina.

“Really.  I don’t remember a thing. How many times you want me to repeat it?” Michael said slightly irritated.

“Shit, you’re a virtual hero buddy.” Shaw walked up to the bed opposite Kalina and shot a look at her.

“Babe, just relax, it will come back to you.” Kalina reassured him.  “It will just take some time.”

Michael’s heart monitor indicated a sharp increase in his heart rate.  The chime of an alarm could be heard coming from the nurse’s station in the distance.

“Hero!”  “What the hell do you mean hero?”  As Michael asked the question in astonishment, a shift nurse appeared to find out why his heart rate increased so dramatically.

“Is everything alright.” she asked politely as she poked her head in the doorway.

“Yeah, its fine, um, he’s fine” Kalina stammered. “He just woke up and became a little confused that’s all.”

“Okay, let me grab the doctor so he can check in with him.” said the nurse, and took her leave to find Michael’s physician.