Hope's Journey

HOPE’S JOURNEY

         Sophia had one shot at the keyhole before losing her grip. Her geometry notebook, overstuffed with loose computations, tumbled onto the entry threshold as a full key ring dangled precariously from her right index finger. Each key held significance from her past, except the one she was trying to use. Impervious, she conceded to the mishap by allowing everything else to slide through her arms.

         Final exams played Ping-Pong with her brain earlier in the day, confusing the fine points of twelfth grade Chemistry and Natural Science. Normally, she could ace them both. Although her life was far from normal, wisdom had to prevail and propel her into success. She made that promise to her mom the last time they spoke. That was eight months ago. Now Hope was gone, along with most everyone else she worked with on the one hundred and third floor of the World Trade Center’s South Tower.

         Sophia reasoned she was one of the lucky kids— now only weeks away from graduation. Her heart ached for the babies who wouldn’t have their mothers at night or ever again. Mom had gotten her through the difficult years— she was all grown up now. Together, they had plotted her future— down to which city Sophia would set up her pediatric practice in. By then, Hope would have been ready to walk away from the corporate world to manage the office while Sophia practiced medicine for her favorite kind of people. Now, Sophia had to live the dream for both of them. She made that promise to Hope during their final conversation on that fateful morning.

         Knowing her life was about to end, Hope gathered her strength and seized the opportunity to instill confidence in her daughter, prophetically offering insights reserved for graduation day, weddings and funerals— bravely resolving to cover a lifetime in less than five minutes.

         That fateful September morning found Sophia studying Chemistry at home. Accelerated learning had given her fewer classes in the final year of high school. Most kids didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Sophia treasured those last words and kept them close to her heart. Some days it was the only thing that kept her from pulling the covers over her head and staying home. Hope promised she would always be with Sophia, no matter what. And then the phone went dead.

         Change defined Sophia’s life. Living with Aunt Beth wasn’t so awful—just awkward. Beth was dating more men than all the women combined on "Sex in the City." Divorce had liberated her enough to try a match-making service, resulting in a smorgasbord of worthy candidates. Sophia enjoyed watching her aunt’s confidence build with each round played in the dating game.

         Sometimes hearing Beth’s laugh saddened her; it was her mom’s laugh. And they had the same generous blue eyes. Sophia rationalized Beth had found her own way of dealing with the grief— filling the void with pretend relationships.

         She knelt before her jumbled books, now mixed with the day's mail. While sorting through the confusion, an envelope caught her attention. As she gazed at the return address, a silent shadow fell over her. Sophia grinned and looked up, instantly recognizing the black suede pumps.

         “What happened here?” Beth teased her niece through the open doorway.

         “Hey, Aunt Beth. I dropped my books while trying to unlock the door. Look, I got my response from Yale,” she offered.

         “And you haven’t opened it yet?”

         She squatted to get eye level with her niece. Beth defined success in her gray wool jacket, buttoned in black suede. Her bronzed hair was controlled with a French twist and a precisely placed pearl hair pin that begged to be pulled loose. Sophia had many of her aunt’s physical attributes and always admired Beth’s flair for fashionably enhancing them.

         She cautiously peeled the envelope open while their eyes focused on her future.

         “Oh come on, Sofie. Just rip it open. Live in the moment, won’t you?”

         “Well, if it’s a rejection, we’ll rip it up together; but if it’s an acceptance, I’ll want to frame it,” she said calmly, relishing the final moments of ignorant bliss.

         “They’d be crazy not to accept you....Hey, you’re smiling, girl. Are you in?”

         “I’m in!”

         They sprung to their feet with clenched hands and began dancing a jig outside the apartment.

         Down the hall, the elevator doors glided open, revealing a well-refined vintage couple, frail from the tolls of long life.

         “What’s the excitement about?” Mrs. Langston questioned through her gold-framed bifocals.

         “Sofie made it into Yale, folks. We just found out,” Beth announced proudly.

         “Why that’s wonderful, Sophia. Your mother would be so proud,” Mr. Langston offered words of support. He was the closest thing Sophia had to a grandfather.

         “Thanks, she already knows. She’s been right by my side these past several months,” Sophia proudly gleamed her belief, spontaneously sharing it for the first time.

         “What?” The elderly woman asked.

         “Do you find that hard to believe, ma’am?”

         “Well, no dear. Surely you feel your mother’s love even though she has passed on.”

         “Her love, always; that’s a given. But it’s more. Her spirit is with me. I know it. In fact, she said she would always be with me. Those were her last words.”

         “Well that’s sweet dear, whatever helps you to cope,” the miniature woman obliged as her husband winked in sly support.

         Beth offered validation to counter the skepticism. “Hey, if my genius niece says her mom is by her side, I, for one, believe her. Hope is one of the few people that could actually pull it off.”

         “Congratulations again, Sophia. See you later girls, I’ve got to get Mr. Langston to bed,” the well-preserved lady waved her free hand while supporting her husband’s arm.

         “I didn’t know you still had it in you, Mrs. Langston,” Beth mused.

         “Oh, I guess that sounded strange,” she laughed as the pair of hunched relics faded like an era into their antique world.

         “It didn’t sound strange to me,” Beth whispered.

         Sophia managed to clear the path, allowing Beth full entrance into their monochromatic abode. A fresh canvas to endorse life’s transitions seemed appropriate. Layered shades of taupe projected minimalism and helped incorporate the healing elements of Feng Shui into the living space. It was in stark contrast to their neighbors’ abundant display of memorabilia furnished over decades of accumulation.

         “This letter says I’ve been selected to begin during the summer session. That’s less than a month away,” Sophia disclosed.

         “I see a shopping spree in your future. How about a sushi celebration and then on to Macy’s" Beth offered.

         “I’ve got geometry finals tomorrow morning,” Sophia sighed.

         “Oh, okay. We’ll celebrate tomorrow. You go study and I’ll order Chinese.”

         “Great! Thai Shrimp with fried rice for me, please,” Sophia responded while heading into her bedroom with the labors of scholastic brilliance balanced between her thin arms. She dumped everything unto her bed while plunging in, still clutching the acceptance letter.

         Finally alone, she reread each word. Tears streamed from her fluid-filled eyes and down her freckled cheeks. “We did it, Mom!”

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         Three weeks passed quickly. Sophia walked away from her graduation with honors—maintaining a 4.0 grade point average. At the ceremony, she received a standing ovation when the principal announced her acceptance into Yale. Although grateful, she felt the adulation was more about the loss of her mother.

         The mandatory roommates were propelled into closeness. Triumph was bittersweet —Sophia ached to share graduation and her quickly-fading childhood with her mother. Beth did her best to fill the void, taking time off from work to prepare her college-bound niece for any situation that a versatile wardrobe could remedy. Sophia knew Hope would have emphasized preparing her state of mind for the challenges of higher learning.

         As they wheeled the last of Sophia’s three suitcases into the hallway, Mr. and Mrs. Langston emerged, ready to embark on their daily stroll.

         “Today’s the big day, Sophia?”

         “Yes ma’am, I’ll be leaving within the hour. I was going to stop in and say goodbye.”

         “Well come here honey, give us a hug.”

         Sophia bent down to hug her, then approached her sage mentor.

         “Mr. Langston, thanks for all of our talks. You really helped me get through some tough times.” She gave him the tightest embrace his brittle bones could endure.

         “Sophia, you are a bright and gifted child—Hope is very proud of you. And by the way, you were right; she is by your side.”

         He winked, stroked his mustache, and gave her one of his heart-stopping smiles. She watched the conjoined pair hobble to the elevator and wave as the stainless steel doors sealed their final goodbye.

         She valued Mr. Langston’s opinion. On Christmas Eve, he patiently listened to her oratory over compromised faith, thereupon offering consolation in little over fifty words.

         “A person’s faith can’t be judged by the actions of one moment, one day or even one decade. It has to play itself out through a lifetime, before any judgment can be made—and only God can do the judging. Even in the final moments of life, a soul can be changed forever. So always look beyond the bad moments—grab on to the good ones; they have the greatest power. Remember, you must be true to your soul, or it’s all a waste.”

         Those words got her through the holidays, and stuck with her. He explained that having to watch most of one’s friends and family die—in his case, over sixty people—gave him lots of material about faith to consider. But still, that didn’t explain why he knew about her mom. Sophia was going to miss him.

         Having said her good-byes at the apartment, she took a cab to the bus station alone. Getting there early paid off with the second row right window seat, a spot she hoped would isolate her from frivolous conversations.

         In the final minutes before the stout driver closed the door, two anxious men boarded the bus. A fidgety, dark man sat next to her while his muscle-bound companion sat behind the driver. Once outside the city limits, the two men began exchanging nervous whispers in a foreign language. Sophia’s heart quickened as she considered the implications.

         Her worst fears were confirmed as she watched the man across the aisle reach into a carry-on bag and pull out a silver lighter. With little effort, it was transformed into a small pistol. Incredulously, he approached the driver and pointed the instant weapon to his face. The man next to Sophia retrieved a similar lighter from his duffel bag beneath him and it too became an instant threat. She froze—hoping he would forget she existed.

         Instead, he mercilessly reached over and grabbed a handful of her shoulder-length hair while pulling her to his chest. Access to the driver was precariously guarded by the human blockade. Sophia's innocence ignited immediate resistance to the treachery. She choked on the stench of hate-induced fear seeping from his pores, causing her to gag uncontrollably. He released her from the inescapable grip in an attempt to stop the heaving—but it was too late. Sophia was already hurling her breakfast into the face of her assailant. He raised his hand, rearing back to lay a fist into her jaw as punishment for such foul actions in the midst of his siege.

         Before he could execute the blow, a flash of light appeared and blinded him long enough for Sophia to recover and knee him in the groin. She looked up in time to see Hope’s image flash before her. Within seconds, three passengers rushed forward to subdue her attacker. Another flash of light blinded his accomplice who was still holding the driver at gun point. While the hijacker was shielding his eyes, the driver pushed and kicked him down the stairwell. He deliberately jerked the steering wheel and pulled the door lever open, causing his assailant to spill out. Methodically, he shut the door, accelerated his speed and activated the emergency signal on his radio.

         “Not on my bus!” he yelled with relief.

         More passengers charged to the front, cheering and wailing. Sophia was numb with disbelief. Her mother’s image had just flashed before her to save her life—and everyone else on board.

         “She’s a hero!” was quickly echoed. Most everyone witnessed Sophia’s actions, assaulting the hijacker with vomit and a groan shot. Seeing her attacker subdued by four large men was instant justice.

         Finally the bus stopped as sirens could be heard approaching from a distance. Sophia escaped the rush of people pushing forward by returning to her original seat.

         “Everyone, please listen up,” the driver spoke with a Jersey slur, using hand motions to calm them.

         “We’ve just survived a hijacking, people. Miraculously, no one appears to have been seriously hurt. I’m going to open the door in a moment and talk with the police, but I promise not to leave you good people stuck in here for long.” The driver had a command in his voice that matched his broad berth.

         Within minutes, over thirty police cars and half as many ambulances arrived. As promised, the passengers-turned-witnesses were all escorted off the bus and questioned by police. Sophia was the last to leave the bus, still trying to assimilate the facts. She made a few queries of the other passengers as they filed past her with thanks. No one admitted seeing her mom or even the bright lights that blinded the assailants.

         When Sophia finally emerged, cheers and applause flowed from the grassy roadside; it was all for her.

         A calm policeman approached. “Young lady, you are very brave. I’m Officer Greer. Are you up for a few questions, Miss....?” he asked while hunched over to meet her eyes. He removed his hat, revealing sincerity in his rookie face.

         She looked up at him and murmured, “It’s Maxwell, Sophia Maxwell. Yes, of course. What can I tell you, Officer Greer?” Her level of control was beyond her years.

         “Can you tell me in your own words what happened?”

         “Sure. I have already figured out that most people didn’t see what I saw,” she replied, focusing on information pertinent to her unresolved issues.

         “What was it that you saw differently?”

         “I saw my mom. She saved my life.”

         “Where did you see your mom? Was she on the bus?”

         “Yes. She blinded the hijacker at the precise moment he was about to strike me. I looked up from puking and saw my mother’s glowing image standing between me and that madman. He covered his eyes and that allowed me enough time to knee him in the groin. And that’s when the men rushed him and grabbed his gun. About the same time, something similar was going on in the front of the bus between the driver and the other attacker. I saw another image appear there too.”

         “Are you saying your mother is dead and she somehow helped you?"

         “Yes, it’s the truth. She died in the South Tower on nine-eleven, and she’s been with me ever since.”

         “Interesting,” he nodded, considering her appraisal.

         “Can I call my aunt, please? If she hears about this, she will go crazy with worry.”

         He was still appraising her discerning words. “Of course, I’ll get a line cleared for you. Have you spoken with the bus driver yet?”

         “No, I haven’t,” Sophia reacted, detecting a hint of proof.

         “Well, maybe you should. Wait one moment, he’s right there. I’ll send him over.”

         “Okay,” Sophia was encouraged that validation might still exist. Within seconds the two heroes were united.

         “Hello, little lady. I owe you my life. And so does everyone else on the bus,” he bent over and peered with glistening eyes buried in his robust cheeks.

         “Thanks, you did a pretty good job yourself—and you drove us safely through it all. That was amazing how you kicked that guy right off the bus without even stopping. Oh, by the way, my name is Sophia Maxwell. Pleased to meet you,” she said while offering an extended hand.

         “Thanks, that was my own emergency contingency plan—never had to use it until today. My name is Richard Edmund. Pleased to meet you, Sophia. Listen, I’ve just got to ask you something,” he said while cupping her dwarfed hand gently within his plump fingers.

         “What is it?”

         “Did you see the... Well, I’m just going to say it—angel?”

         Sophia’s mouth dropped as she blurted, “Yes I did. Did you see my angel?”

         “Nope, only saw one angel, but as you know…..I was kind of busy at the time. Anyway, where there’s one angel, there might be two. Right?”

         “Right. Well, I saw both angels. My mom was one of them. They really did save our lives, didn’t they?”

         “That’s my take on it. Unfortunately, I’ve already had my share of skeptics.”

         “What about Officer Greer? He seemed to believe me.”

         “Then he’s one of the few.”

         “Ms. Maxwell, I’ve got a clear line for you,” Officer Greer rejoined them handing her a phone.

         “Thanks,” she accepted it smiling at him with new appreciation, then dialed Beth’s number.

         “Aunt Beth, it’s me.”

         “Sofie, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, but I’m glad you called. I have to tell…”

         “Something’s happened,” Sophia cut her short.

         “What’s happened? What’s wrong, Sofie?”

         “My bus was hijacked. But I’m okay now. Listen, I’m coming back home to fill you in. And then, I’m going to take you up on that offer to drive me to Yale. No more buses for a while.”

         “Oh my God, Sofie. You’ve been gone for what— three hours—and everything goes wrong. Yes, please come home right away.”

         “Aunt Beth, what are you talking about? What else happened?”

         “It’s Mr. Langston. The dear soul passed on about two hours ago. It was so unexpected—I mean he’s always been here, and then in an instant, he’s gone forever. Can you believe they’ve lived here since their wedding day in 1948? And now, you tell me you’ve been hijacked. What’s next?”

         “Oh no, not Mr. Langston. Calm down, Aunt Beth. I’ve got something to tell you. I’ll be home soon.” Sophia fell silent upon ending the phone call.

         “Ms. Maxwell, can I do anything for you? Get you something?” Officer Greer volunteered.

         “Well, actually, yes. I need a ride back home. It’s my neighbor—he just passed on. He was like a grandfather. I need to get home,” she spoke with a bowed head.

         “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Doesn’t seem fair, after what you’ve already been through,” Mr. Edmund sympathized.

         “I’ll arrange a car for you, Ms. Maxwell. Better yet, I’ll drive you myself. It’d be an honor. We’d better get you out of here soon, the reporters are starting to scavenge, and that can wait for another day.” Officer Greer offered.

         “Thanks. I have three pieces of luggage. Here, I’ll give you the claim tickets—I’m afraid they’re all large.”

         “Not a problem,” he nodded.

         “Well, at least your mom was there for you when you needed her,” Mr. Edmund offered consolation.

         “Yes, but Poor Mr. Langston could have used her help today too. Guess even angels can’t be in two places at once. By the way, who was your angel?”

         “I don’t really know. He was a frail little old man with a thick, silver handlebar mustache and smiling eyes. He had on suspenders holding up pin-stripped trousers and a bow tie. I’ll never forget him.”

         “Oh my God!”

         “You know him?”

         “You just described Mr. Langston. Hang on, I’ve got a picture of him.”

         She looked up in time to see Officer Greer pulling her bags from the bus and yelled, “Wait! I need to get something, please.”

         Sophia sprinted toward him. She swiped the lock on a brown leather case with a key card pulled from her wallet and effortlessly retrieved a photo album from the front zippered compartment. She ran back over to Mr. Edmund as Officer Greer’s detective instincts kicked in.

         “Is this who you saw?” Sophia thumbed through the album to a photo from Christmas Eve and pointed to Mr. Langston sitting next to her during their heart-to-heart.

         Beth had poignantly captured the moment. Sophia defined trusting innocence framed in a white silk sweater. Mr. Langston was dressed impeccably, donning a festive red bow tie to adorn his pale translucent skin. Emotions surged inside Sophia, since the photograph suddenly represented final cherished moments instead of just another fond memory.

         “That’s my angel!” Mr. Edmund wailed, as Officer Greer silently acknowledged the moment.

         Sophia glanced over her shoulder while choking back tears. “Thank you, Mama. Take good care of him.”