Free Mother's Promise by Anna Schmidt Page A

hold at bay, and his voice shook. “See, he’s on the basketball team and several colleges have been after him and …”
    â€œWe’re going to do our best, Mr. Olson,” Ben said as he gently patted the man’s arm. “Just hang in there, okay?”
    With relief he saw Paul Cox and the new chaplain enter the waiting area. Paul moved toward the parents, indicating with a nod that his cohort should check on the other teenagers. The gurney was already halfway on the elevator, and the surgeon was holding the door for Ben.
    â€œGot this,” Paul said as he stepped between Ben and Mr. Olson. “I’m Paul Cox, hospital chaplain,” he said. “Let me show you folks to our family care area. You’ll be more comfortable waiting there.”
    Rachel approached the other boys as Paul led the parents away. She bent down to their level as if she instinctively knew how best to connect with them. As the elevator doors slid shut she glanced up at Ben. For an instant it looked as if she was pleading with him to make things better—not for her but for those boys who had saved their friend. But he would not offer false hope, and he knew she had read the severity of the situation in his expression when she drew in a breath and briefly bowed her head before turning her attention back to the boys.

    â€œI’m sure you did everything you could have done,” Rachel said to the boy who had broken down completely and was sobbing into his hands.
    â€œThat sucker came out of nowhere,” another boy said, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “I mean one minute we were catching a wave and the next the water was red with Dave’s blood and his arm was …” He was pacing back and forth.
    The third friend remained silent. He was the smallest of the three, and in a way his size made him appear more vulnerable.
Like Justin.
He sat quietly a little apart from his friends and stared at his hands.
    â€œIf Todd here hadn’t hit that shark with his board,” the second boy continued, wheeling around and coming up next to her as he continued his story. “That was amazing, dude. We all froze, but Todd handled it.”
    Rachel slid onto the empty chair that separated the boy—Todd—from his friends. She placed her hand on his bony shoulder. “You quite possibly saved your friend’s life,” she told him and silently prayed to God that his life would indeed be saved.
    An aide carrying a cardboard tray with cups of orange juice came toward them. “Thank you,” Rachel said as she stood up and distributed the juice. All three boys guzzled it down as if they hadn’t had liquids in days. All three murmured their thanks as they placed the empty paper cups back on the tray.
    â€œPastor Paul asked that you bring them to the chapel,” the aide told Rachel. “We’ve called their parents.”
    â€œThank you. Come on, boys.” Rachel guided them toward the corridor that led to the chapel and family waiting area. The emergency room was quiet now, and the only sounds were a nurse’s rhythmic tapping on a computer keyboard and the squeak of the boys’ rubber flip-flops on the polished tile floor.
    When they reached the chapel, both Mr. and Mrs. Olson came forward and hugged each boy. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. She had been afraid that the Olsons might release their own fear by chastising the boys. But when Todd finally broke down and let his tears come, it was Mr. Olson who took him under his wing. “Hey, what’s this?” he said. “From what Brent and Jack told us, you saved the day.”
    â€œThat shark was huge,” Todd blubbered.
    â€œYou did good, Todd. Whatever happens, you saved our boy,” Mr. Olson said as he hugged Todd again.
    Over the next couple of hours the family waiting room gradually filled with other family and friends. The parents of the three friends