Review written for ClubReading.com by Barbara
An apparently everyday sort of woman, Sarah Myles, hears music, just four notes, and she hears them again and again. She’s heard these notes since childhood. Then a car accident expands the notes, adding visions to them. With the help of a parapsychologist, she slowly unravels the mystery of what she’s seeing and hearing-and it’s something that could change the earth upon which Christianity stands. Note: Beverly Byrne has produced other equally well-written books, one being Women’s Rites which I also heartily recommend.
EXCERPT FROM A Matter of Time:
“We’ve been very lucky, Mrs. Myles. There doesn’t seem to be any damage to the brain. All the tests are okay. Considering the state of the car, a broken arm and leg and a fractured pelvis are minor injuries. They’ll heal. Very lucky.”
“But why doesn’t she speak? I keep talking to her, but she doesn’t answer, doesn’t open her eyes.”
Rita’s voice. And the doctor’s. Sarah could hear them talking. She wanted to turn her head, to say, “It’s okay, Mom. I’m all right.” She couldn’t. Nothing would move when she told it to, not even her eyelids.
“Be patient, Mrs. Myles. She’s concussed. But that will pass. I really do think there’s been no serious damage. And like I said, that’s a miracle.”
A miracle. She used to wonder if the music was a miracle. Not the way it was now. It was a curse. Louder and louder. Pounding in her head. And she was less able to control it; because she was so ill, so weak. The four notes punctuated this time out of time, went on and on. How long? She didn’t know and she still couldn’t ask. There were only variations of sleep to fill the minutes. Deep sleep when she heard nothing at all, half sleep when she heard do, sol, la, fa . . . Over and over again. And something more. Something she’d never experienced before.
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah . . . Her name was being called; she could sense people around her. Crowds of people, but not the nurses and doctors. She didn’t know who the shadowy figures were, only that they were somehow both here and not here. And she was sad; a terrible, overwhelming grief twisted her heart, but she didn’t know what she was sad about. Once she felt a nurse gently wipe her cheeks and heard her whisper, “Don’t cry, Miss Myles, you’re going to be okay. Really.”
Sarah wanted to explain that she wasn’t weeping because of the accident. But try as she might, she still couldn’t speak.