Proof of Heaven by Mary Curran Hackett Read Free Book Online Page A

her phone.
    As Sean pressed on Colm’s chest over and over, all he could think was that he had no idea how his sister had managed it all these years. Despite all the emergency calls he had made during the past two years as a firefighter, Sean wasn’t prepared to watch someone he loved die in front of him. Worst of all, he knew he was powerless. No amount of training could save Colm once his mysterious heart stopped beating.
    As Colm’s face lost its color, Sean started, for the first time in several years, to pray, really pray. In his head, with every compression he repeated over and over: “Hail Mary full of grace.” Press. “The Lord is with you.” Press. After a minute of praying, he began to beg God to not let Colm go. He bartered with God. Take me. Press. Take me instead. Press. Sean thought how much easier it was to lay down one’s life for a friend, or even a stranger. As a firefighter, he had put himself in a fair share of sticky situations to save people he had never met, and he had even been called a hero for it, but suddenly he knew saving lives was the easy part. It was nothing like watching someone he loved die. The heroes were the ones who were left behind, who endured it all. He had known from the beginning of his own life that death was always felt more by the living.
    Five minutes later, after the paramedics arrived and took over, they told him to stand back and take care of his sister. Sean began to shake uncontrollably and reached for Cathleen’s hand and took it. She looked at him, feeling the fear in his body rise in her own. The monsignor worked his way through the crowd and came to stand beside Cathleen, taking her other hand and praying out loud. Cathleen didn’t even notice. Her mind was on only one thing—her son.
    â€œWhere could he be?” Cathleen whispered to herself, staring blankly at the scene before her.
    The monsignor and Sean said nothing.
    The paramedics worked on Colm a long three minutes before they grabbed the shock paddles and jolted him several times. Each time, Cathleen jumped, as if she could feel the electricity and pain running through her own body.
    Suddenly, Colm’s eyes popped open. Above him, he could see the dark shadows of people standing over him and behind them the towering steeples of the cathedral and the blast of morning light pouring through. He closed his eyes again.
    Cathleen lunged for him. “Colm, come back!”
    One of the paramedics explained how they had to get the boy to the hospital and that they might have to intubate him to keep oxygen flowing to his brain. The boy had a pulse, she said, but it was weak, and he needed help breathing.
    Another paramedic asked Cathleen and Sean, “How long do you figure he was out before we arrived?”
    â€œAt least five minutes before you started working on him—I guess that means about ten minutes total,” Sean said.
    The paramedic looked at Sean. She didn’t have to tell him what she was thinking. Sean already knew. It was too long.
    He is most certainly brain-dead, Sean thought quietly to himself.
    â€œCan we ride along?” Sean asked.
    The paramedic nodded, and Sean and Cathleen broke away from the monsignor and climbed into the ambulance. In the ambulance, Cathleen held her son’s hand and glanced quickly out the window only to see the monsignor’s worried face and the church behind him grow smaller as the ambulance sped away.

Part II
    Something happens in this room, something unmentionable: here the soul is yanked out of the body; briefly it hangs about in the air, twisting and contorting; then it is sucked away and is gone. It will be beyond him, this room that is not a room but a hole where one leaks out of existence.
    â€”J. M. Coetzee, Disgrace

Chapter 8
    W hile the ambulance made its way up the avenue, Cathleen pulled out the card Dr. Basu had given her just a few days earlier in his office. She handed it over to her