Over the next two months, Kelly gave her husband two teaspoons a day of the tincture she’d made with the plant. He laughingly called it her ‘Witches Brew’.
“How do you feel, baby, any different?” she inquired.
“As a matter, I feel like I could eat more and if you’ve noticed, I’m not sleeping twenty four hours a day like last month,” he told her. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Let’s just pray that it is,” she answered, “and not just the calm before the storm.”
The next day, strangely, Dr. Shea’s office called and asked them both to come in, unwilling to talk about it over the phone. Puzzled and not just a little scared, they hurried to his office. Even more puzzling, he didn’t have patients on Wednesdays.
“I called you guys to come in my office there’s been some changes,” Dr. Shea informed them.
They looked at each other with despair in their eyes.
“No, no, it’s not bad! Quite the contrary!” The doctor exclaimed, “Off the record, Mr. and Mrs. McBride, I’m not a religious man. But this case caused me to believe that maybe there’s something more at work here other than modern medicine. John, your tumor is shrinking. Your blood work is near perfect, and you’ve put on twenty pounds in one month!”
Kellie’s smile was dazzling as she and John squeezed each other’s hands.
“I don’t think in my whole forty years of medicine I’ve ever witnessed a case of Pancreatic cancer turn itself around like this. It has me thinking, Mrs. McBride, that you know or have done something to make this happen. Wanna fess up?”
“Dr. Shea, what if I told you that a plant grew in my garden that has never been there before,” she started off saying, “and what if I told you that I was told how to use this plant by a native American Indian woman?”
His eyes widened briefly. “Are you saying that you envisioned of a cure? And plant magically grew like the Jack in the Beanstalk?”
“Yes, Doctor, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” she answered.
“Can I see the plant, Kellie?” he asked her.
She showed him the pictures on her phone.
After studying it for several minutes, he went on his computer and typed, pulling up a likeness of the picture.
“This is impossible. Are you sure this is the picture of the plant in your backyard?” he asked, incredulously.
“I’m positive, I took this picture myself, doctor,” she said. “Why? What do you see?”
He turned his screen around for them to see. “This plant is actually a small tree. A Sour Sop tree or a Graviola. It’s native only to Africa! It’s fruit is prized for its cancer cell killing properties, but it’s never been scientifically proven by the Food and Drug Administration.” he told them.
“But that’s impossible, right? The weather and all? How in the world did it grow in my garden?” she asked, staring at the familiar plant on the screen.
“Yes, Kellie, it’s impossible,” Dr. Shea told her, “How were you told to give it? What was the recipe for healing?”
“There were some things she just showed me, and others that I just knew. Almost as if I’ve done it before and had just forgotten about. Doctor, is his cancer gone, or just in remission?”
“It’s shrinking, reversing somehow,” he told her, “I hope you don’t mind, but a colleague of mine, Dr. Robert Kiem, consulted with me about the shrinkage, and we’re both in agreement. It’s never happened before in any documented case of Pancreatic cancer!”
“Doc, why isn’t holistic medicine practiced more? I mean, clearly there’s a relation to John’s tumor shrinking and the plant.” Kellie asked.
“Unfortunately, Kellie, cancer is a billion dollar a year business,” he answered, “I’ll be the first to admit it and I’m sorry. As corrupt as this world is, there’s people out there who make money from other’s deaths and treatments and still go to sleep at night.”
Kellie nodded, stood up, just wanting to get John home so they could celebrate the good news.
“Thank you for your honesty, Dr. Shea.” she said, shaking his hand earnestly. “So what
“Now, we hold off on that surgery, John. I’d like to see you in two months, run more tests, and we’ll take it from there. Deal?”
“Deal, see you in two months, Doctor,” John said. “Cross your fingers.”
On the way home, Kellie’s eyes kept straying to the lush, green forest not far from their house. She could see the white peaks beyond the trees standing out against the deep blue of the sky. She felt a deep yearning to be in the woods among the soft, swaying ferns, under the cover of green canopy, the forest floor softly giving way underfoot. John’s earlier energy was depleted, evident by his soft snoring and gently twitching hand. She wondered what it was like, knowing you were going to die before you were ready. Knowing that any moment could be your last on Earth. Not a natural death, either. A slow, painful, lingering one. She knew that’s why John slept so much. To escape the heartbreaking reality. But she was uplifted by the news the doctor
imparted to them today. It was mystical, a miracle. Tucking John onto the couch with his pillow and favorite blanket, she kissed his cheek, left a note, and ran upstairs to change into something more suitable to hiking. Throwing on an old pair
of broken-in, well loved sneakers, she grabbed a light jacket and ran downstairs to the kitchen. Hurriedly stuffing an apple and a bottle of water in a small backpack, she headed out the door.
The Charleston State Forest was only about twenty-five minutes from her house, a beautiful drive up a winding mountain road, ending on a mile long dirt road. One of her favorite places, its tranquility and abundance of mushrooms and secret fishing ponds ambrosia for nature lovers. Today felt different. The pull of nature was so powerful, she felt overwhelmed by the need to be there. Parking the car off to the side, she got out and just took a deep, cleansing breath. She could smell the sweet odor of Dame’s Rocket and Sweet Pea mingling to create a perfume patented by Mother Nature herself. Kellie closed her eyes, letting the smells and sounds of the forest waft over her like a soothing blanket of serenity. She felt, for the first time,
synchronous with nature. Its vibrancy was enhanced by the interaction of the wildlife carrying on with their daily routines as if she were a part of it. This oneness thrilled her, filling her with happiness to be so privileged.
A loud knocking on a hollow tree made her turn around, startled at the sudden sound. Her breath caught as a large Pileated woodpecker, just five feet away, drilled holes in its wooden mansion. Its size caught Kellie off guard. Crow-sized, she marveled at the brilliantly colored crest and long, wood-boring
beak. This was only the second time in a lifetime she witnessed the
elusive, shy bird. Turning back, she was shocked to see a flash of light colored leather and the blue-black shimmer of long, plaited hair. It was the woman in her dreams. Standing about twenty yards away, half hidden behind a Shag bark Hickory tree, the Native American shyly pointed at something behind her, waving to Kellie to come see.
Kellie stood frozen in place, the woodpecker forgotten. She felt no fear at something others would be fleeing from. Instead, only a wild curiosity. What did the woman want her to see? She followed.
The native woman walked softly, with hardly a twig disturbed. She remembered when she was a child, walking through the woods with her best friend, Mandy.
“Let’s walk like Indians,” they’d say, proceeding to try not to make a sound. Smiling a the memory, she mimicked the woman’s carefully placed steps, and ‘walked like an Indian’.
© 2017, RissRyker518. All rights reserved.
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