The Other Side of Heaven Read online

  “You said that. Am I chosen to prove there’s an afterlife?”

  Bill shook his head. “It is much bigger.”

  “I don’t know if I am the right person. I … I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

  “Five people. Five people, who are suffering in grief, will get a chance to have one more day, one more moment with someone they lost. Someone that they need to see to resolve or just speak to. It’s an amazing gift they will receive. A chance to go where no living being has ever gone.”

  “The other side of Heaven.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How do I fit in?”

  “You, Natalie,” he said. “Will choose those five people.”

  3. THE CALLED – Response

  Why me? Who was I to be given such a responsibility? I’d say honor but, I wasn’t certain it was. I was nothing special. I lived my life to be one of the many. I worked in accounting and the only time someone knew I existed was if their check was wrong and that rarely happened.

  I kept my head down, worked hard. I ate lunch alone, spoke to few people. Was pleasant and cordial, but not friendly. I didn’t have friends. Not since high school. People close tend to cause hurt. I was content living a bland life. I was average all the way around. From my looks to my personality. My life was every day. I was that person who barely went to parties. I don’t think anyone noticed that I skipped the company picnic. Honestly, I was fine with that.

  I did nothing bad, nor did I do anything grand. The closest thing I had to living on the edge was smoking pot on Friday, eating pizza and binge watching a television series on a pay video service.

  That was my life.

  Now I was the center of attention. The ‘stick to the background woman’ was thrust into the spotlight, and given a tremendous responsibility from a source I couldn’t refuse.

  I task I couldn’t turn down.

  Not only did I have to search out grieving individuals, I had to choose five that were most deserving of the opportunity for one more moment with someone they lost. How was that possible? How would I make that choice? How would I determine that one person’s grief was more than another’s? It was something bigger than I could imagine, and a task I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of.

  Bill was wrong, lunch arrived and still not a single doctor spoke to me. I contemplated just leaving, until Artie entered not only my room, but my life.

  Unlike everyone else, she spoke as soon as she walked in. Exclaiming an exasperated, “Whew. I go away and look at this mess.” She walked to the window and opened the blinds. “There, let the sun in.” With a turn of her body she faced me with a warm smile.

  Her age was hard to tell, a thicker built African American woman with her hair pulled back, wearing blue scrub pants, a white jacket and a smiley face scrub shirt.

  “You okay, Sweet Pea? You look a little stunned.” She walked to my Intravenous infusion checking it. “Gonna get your vitals.”

  “You’re talking to me.”

  “Of course, I’m talking to you. I don’t recall in all my years entering a patient’s room and not talking.”

  “But no one else is talking to me.”

  She paused in taking my blood pressure. “Is there a gag order on this room?”

  “I think so.”

  “See, they don’t tell me anything. I go away to New York for mission work.”

  “Mission work in New York.”

  “You know how many homeless there are in New York?” She shook her head and lifted my chart. “No, last time there was a gag order the president was …” She paused, looked at me and back to the chart. “No wonder there’s a gag order.”

  “You broke it.”

  “Not the first time. Now I see why you are causing the ruckus out there.”

  “You didn’t know when you came in?” I asked.

  “No, I didn’t. I do now.” She read the chart. “You were hit by a metro?”

  “My car.”

  “No injuries at all.”

  “Well.” I pointed to the bandage.

  “My Lord, you were dead for eighteen hours, so dead they sent you to the morgue?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Artie whistled. “Sweetheart, dead for eighteen hours … the Good Lord certainly must have a plan for you.”

  “Unfortunately, he does.”

  On those words, Artie closed the chart.

  4. THE CALLED – STRANGER AND PENS

  “And of course, all medical expenses will be paid for,” one lawyer said. “The hospital will also take care of any follow ups you may have in addition to the lump sum.”

  The other lawyer in my room stated, “And port authority is also interested in offering you a settlement which includes life time passes for our transit system.”

  I didn’t know what to do. Who would have known that my first visitors would be lawyers? They worked fast.

  “Take the settlement,” Bill advised, seen only by me standing at the foot of my bed. “Sign them, we don’t have time to wait on courts and you need the money to search.”

  I really wasn’t a monetary person, so I signed the papers.

  I suppose the guard got tired of fielding visitors. I had no family, so when a Cousin Sue or Aunt Jean showed up, he knew to send them away. The next two days were insane. As Bill said, People tried diligently to talk to me, reporters called, talk shows, the world was at my disposal to get the word out, but somehow, it seemed off.

  Being an instant celebrity wasn’t my thing. I didn’t want to be interviewed, on television or radio. Yes, I had a message, a mission, but I was also certain that it would get out and I would somehow find those I needed to speak to. After all, Heaven had a hand in it, surely they had candidates in mind.

  My release was set. I was dressed and ready to go home and waiting on the hospital to figure out how they were going to get me out without being attacked by the media.

  Bill was there. He was by my side a lot, I was grateful.

  “Now I know you feel overwhelmed,” Bill said. “Alone. But you aren’t. You’ll have those who will help you with your journey. And even as you make this decision, it is okay to ask for help.”

  I laughed.

  “What? What is so funny?”

  “I don’t have anyone Bill.”

  “There’s some….”

  Before he could finish, Artie walked in the room. She wore a flowered dress and a wide brim hat and lipstick. Artie was dolled up.

  “Good afternoon, Sunshine, how’s it going?” she asked.

  “Better now that you’re here. I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I heard they were releasing you. I wanted to stop in.”

  “You look very pretty. You didn’t need to dress up for me.”

  Artie tossed out her hand with a smile. “It’s Sunday. I always wear my Sunday best. Just got out of services.”

  Bill waved a finger. “That is really nice of her. She goes every week.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  Artie shifted her eyes from me and looked around the room. “Your Heaven friend again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He figure out how to get you out of here unseen?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Good. I have an idea” Artie said.

  Because the media and those seeking to ‘touch’ me weren’t permitted on my floor, slipping out the back stairwell with Artie was easy. We made it to the garage and because I laid down in the backseat, Artie programmed my address into her GPS and was able to drive from the hospital without a second glance.

  I never realized how much hospitals smelled one way until I got into Artie’s small car. It smelled like sweet flowers, it was Artie. I swore her goodness exuded a scent.

  “Thank you so much for this,” I said, buckling my seat beat. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Yes,” Artie looked in the rearview mirror. “Yes, I did. Some of us are called in big ways.” She nodded her head at me. “Some of us get subtl
e messages.”

  “It’s insane.”

  “Yes, it is. Just the reaction to this all. It’s unheard of.”

  “I was reading comments on the news story. People are cruel.”

  “You have to deal with that. Broaden them shoulders.”

  “I have no idea how to even begin this quest.”

  “Maybe your heavenly friend can …” Artie slowed the car as we turned the bend to my street. “Oh, Lord.”

  The crowd in front of my four unit apartment building wasn’t as big as the hospital, but they blocked the entrance.

  “Is there a back way in?” Artie asked.

  “Yeah, but we can’t get there without going through them.” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Who is upstairs waiting on you?”

  I chuckled. “No one.”

  “No boyfriend, husband, friend, family?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you just got out of the hospital. Who was going to care for you?”

  “No one. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will. Eventually.” Artie placed the car in reverse and did a quick street turn around. “For now, I hope you like chicken.”

  Artie’s home was wonderfully chaotic. So many people packed in for the traditional Sunday meal. Her husband was a quiet man with a pleasant smile, he interacted with his grandchildren from his favorite chair.

  I didn’t know Artie well, but I wanted to. Her family was close and welcomed me without asking anything about who I was. Her sister was there with her children. Artie’s three children and grandchildren. It was crowded and despite my bad hospital hair, sore body, I was comfortable.

  The food was awesome, chicken and candied yams, I hadn’t had a home cooked meal like that since my mother was alive. The cake Artie called a ‘Seven up cake’ didn’t seem enough, I think I could have devoured that myself.

  I listened to their conversation. It ranged from sports, to politics, ruffled feathered arguments erupted but calmed back down.

  Never once did I feel as if I overstayed my welcome. Despite the fact that I was there until nightfall.

  Artie was fixing me a care package of leftovers when her nephew, Brad returned. He was a young man of about nineteen. He left right after dinner, but came back. He sat in the living room with Artie’s husband watching television.

  “Brad is going to take you back to your apartment,” Artie said. “Get you in passed those reporters and stay with you. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I said.

  “Yes, it is.” Artie joined me at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry that you’re alone, even more sorry that you’re alone right now.”

  I placed my hand over hers. “Thank you for everything. Thank you so much for believing me.”

  “It’s a hard story not to.”

  “Have you given any thought as to how I will choose? I mean, if it were you, how would you choose.”

  She let out a ‘whew’ and sat back. “That is hard. I think I’d have to follow my gut. Listen to their stories, feel their sorrow, find out the why, because the why is important.”

  “What would your why be?” I asked. “I mean if you had the chance. Who would you pick, and why.”

  “I think everyone carries around the what ifs. They wonder what they’d say. If I had that chance, I’d want to see my mother. She was my best friend. We were so close, she taught me strength and that I can do anything. I’d think my why would be to just show her I’m alright, maybe thank her.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “But do not confuse my answer with me saying it is something I want or need.” Artie shook her head. “I feel that I resolved it with my mother, even though she died young. And I think she resolved it with me. I believe, and this is just my opinion, that we feel pulled, we feel the unresolved, the missing because maybe those on the other side need to resolve as well.”

  Her words made me gasp and my hand shot to my mouth with the instant thoughts of my crossing over, visions that I still saw in my dreams.

  “What?” she asked.

  “When I died, when I went to wherever it was, heaven or pre-heaven, I was bombarded. I remember wondering where was my family? You know? Because there were so many people wanting to talk to me, telling me their loved ones names, things about family. Pick them. I didn’t get it until Bill filled me in.”

  “So they all knew your mission and were rushing to you to influence you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there you have it.”

  “Have what?”

  “Do you remember any faces? Names?”

  “I remember a few, yes.”

  “There’s your start,” Artie stated matter of fact. “Match them up. If their loved one found an urgent need to speak to you, then I am willing bet the feeling is mutual for the ones they left behind.”

  Artie made a valid point, but the question still remained as to how.

  Brad proved that wisdom ran in the family and age had nothing to do with it. He was content on staying with me. A very polite young man studying for his own nursing degree. We pulled onto my street, and although not as many, the reporters and crowd were still there.

  “Oh, no.”

  He stopped the car before getting closer. “Listen. I have been thinking about this. So please hear me out.”

  “Okay.”

  “You need them to go away. They won’t. You mentioned to my Aunt that somehow God will deliver the people to you. Well, maybe this is God’s way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You need to find the people. There are a lot of people out there deserving of this opportunity. You need to make that choice, but how are you going to find them, how are they going to come forward and share their story if they don’t know you’re looking for them.”

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “Get the word out.” Brad pointed to the reporters.

  I acknowledged my understanding and agreement and Brad pulled into the lot of my building. Suffice to say, I wasn’t ready, but I knew he was right. In order for me to start, I really did have to deliver a calling card.

  5. BILL – A VIEW FROM BEYOND

  People are born with good souls. Sure, once in a while, there is a bad apple, but for the most part, there is no such thing as a bad soul. Souls come into the human body free of any prior knowledge of good or bad, knowing only pureness and happiness. Circumstances and influences are what makes a person bad.

  The old saying there are no bad people, only bad choices, is almost entirely correct.

  I didn’t envy Natalie Baynes. Not one bit. Of course, I could have made the decision; after all opening up the other side of heaven for the opportunity was my brain child. Blind faith was at its highest, loss of faith and lack of reason to believe at a low. Not to mention the number of people who didn’t believe. It was time for the experiment to happen.

  Would the five chosen and Natalie be enough to make a difference in the world? Probably not. But they would be enough to make a difference in

  Many lives.

  Picking Natalie wasn’t a cop out, as I have been told. While the decision on who would get to go wasn’t easy, I didn’t toss the responsibility elsewhere to take it from myself.

  I could make the decision.

  What was needed was someone from the outside. Someone who would be so moved by a person’s story that they would feel compelled to grace them with a gift.

  Only a human on earth could judge what would move other people.

  Sort of like giving five poverty ridden people ten grand each to change their lives. Could an out of touch millionaire make that decision? Probably nowhere near as fairly as someone in poverty.

  Not that Natalie had a need to see someone from the other side. Her losses were resolved. There was no big hidden agenda for picking Natalie. She didn’t have a sob story or anything out of the ordinary. In fact, I didn’t know it was going to be her.

  She just happened t
o be at the right place at the right time, or rather wrong place depending on the person you asked.

  The day was chosen, the location, the time. Metro crossing, Illinois, June 15, in the evening at five forty-three and twenty-two seconds. Whatever car or person crossing those tracks at that particular second was the one.

  The chosen.

  They could have been anyone. It happened to be Natalie.

  A Heavenly Lottery of sorts.

  It wasn’t as simple as I believed. She’d die, wake up a long time later, and the world would be engrossed.

  Natalie was scared and unlike I thought, she would need help.

  Artie and her nephew were and would be transient help. Called upon when needed, there even when not. But Natalie needed more. Some needed a co-partner in it all, and I had a few prospects in mind.

  Her journey and process would not be easy and she would learn that.

  That evening after dinner with Artie, she stood in front of her apartment building, Brad was at her side as she spoke to the reporters.

  “My name is Natalie Baynes. I died. I came back. Yes, I saw heaven. Yes, it exists. I have been asked to find five people. Five people who will get the chance to have one more day with a loved one they lost. To resolve, to visit, whatever.”

  “How will you chose?” asked a reporter.

  “I don’t know. Whatever story pulls at me. I don’t know.”

  Brad announced, ‘No more questions’, and escorted her inside.

  Little did she or Brad realize that one brief statement would cascade into a worldwide viral event. The next morning she woke to find over two thousand friend requests on her social media and someone on another social account, posted her email.

  It was flooded.

  Her work was underway. It wouldn’t get easier. There were a lot of stories to read, to hear, then she’d visit them. Artie and Brad would be great help in weeding out the prospects.

  For the final decision, she needed some guidance.

  As I said, I didn’t envy her. However, I believed in her. I also truly believed it wasn’t going to be words on paper that told Natalie who she should pick. It would be a gut instinct. When she met the ones, she would know. She would just know.