The Other Side of Heaven Page 4

  Hearing this caused me to gasp. It wasn’t what I expected.

  “Her mother lived three hundred miles away, yet, the accident happened eighteen miles up the road. The station wagon was hit by a tractor trailer. Janice was killed and all four of my kids were in the hospital. And as a miracle, the baby survived. They delivered him. Early, but he lived. I spent the last thirty years being the best I could be, the father and grandfather I needed to be. I never remarried, to me, I was still married to her.”

  “If you’d go, what resolution do you hope to find?” Brad asked.

  “Resolution? I don’t know if there can be one. I’d like to know if she watches. If not, I want to tell her about the family, how big it is. How she is a part of our lives every single day, no matter how long she’s been gone. I need to tell her she was right. That this is my life, that this is where my happiness is. But most of all, I need to know if she knew,” Travis said. “Knew I loved her more than life itself and regret every single second of my life for letting her walk out that door.”

  9. BILL – A VIEW FROM BEYOND

  Call me cautious, although there are some who would say I was cowardly. Sending Natalie out to do my work, when I actually knew who I wanted to be picked. Although I gave her free will to choose, and would abide and accept those she did select, I used influence to guide her in the right direction.

  Perhaps that wasn’t fair.

  Travis needed heard. If I relied solely on his email to Natalie, she never would have listened to Travis and in turn, wouldn’t have placed him on the top of her list.

  The general public has a two week attention span when it comes to newsworthy stories. Once it hits the circuit, in two weeks people have forgotten and moved on. In order for Natalie to be taken seriously, we had to operate and move fast in that two weeks. After that, people would forget and lose interest.

  It was a lot to accomplish in two weeks and for that, Natalie needed help. Brad was a great asset, and Artie’s intervention was, excuse the pun, a Godsend. But she needed more. Someone with the ground work already in place.

  Aside from guiding her to the ‘source’, I had to face the fact that I had questions to answer. Again, maybe the source would answer those questions. In any event, I would be there.

  It had been days since we spoke, surprisingly, Natalie hadn’t presented me with the list of questions that Brad had drawn up. I was waiting and ready, but glad I didn’t have to face it. She wasn’t handling her quest very well. She was doing a great job, but emotionally it was taking its toll. Another reason, she had to get it done fast.

  Before long, hearing everyone’s heartache and need for resolution would drain her and cause an inability to finish the question. Of that I was one hundred percent certain. Time to step in …. Again.

  10. The Called - BOTTOM OF A BOTTLE

  When traveling in a twenty-two foot RV, things weren’t as easy as pulling into the first parking spot and going about my business. When Bill informed me we were taking a detour, I was concerned. Especially since we were headed back to Oklahoma. A little town, Texhoma, population roughly a thousand was our destination. Even though the night before Brad and I stayed at the home of a pastor, we were weary of sleeping in the RV and a quaint little place called Home Town Inn was located in the town. The prices were so affordable, I got us one of the two, top of the line suites located at the end of the single story ‘L’ shaped place.

  Bill said to get the room for a couple nights and I did. I actually took that as welcoming news. We were staying put and could rest. He told me we were in town because there was someone I needed to find. Find and recruit. I hadn’t a clue what that meant, but we had to head out as soon as we checked in. Because of where we were going to find this individual, Brad had to stay behind.

  Both Brad and I believed it was some sort of spiritual thing or reasoning, perhaps things would be said that Brad couldn’t hear, then I realized why Brad had to hang back.

  He wasn’t of legal drinking age.

  I stood outside the bar and grill that looked like something out of horror movie. A few cars were parked out front, but there were more motorcycles than automobiles.

  “A bar?” I asked Bill. “I’m pulling my RV into a bar parking lot.”

  “He’s in here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’s always here. Yes, I’m sure.”

  “What am I going to say? Do? Just walk up to him?”

  “I’ll tell you. Just go inside.”

  Admittedly, I was irritated. I didn’t like blindly following instructions and the whole entire mission was done blindly.

  I half expected to walk into the bar and have all noise stop, but it didn’t. It was clean with red and blue spotlights added to give atmosphere. There were maybe ten patrons inside. Some played pool, some darts. A lone guitar player was off in the corner, doing his thing with a tiny PA system.

  The actual bar potion took up a good length of the left side of the establishment.

  “There, at the far end,” Bill said. “That’s him. Go sit next to him.”

  Every seat around the man was empty, and somehow I knew I’d get a look because I took the one next to him instead of the many empty. He was a good looking man, actually very good looking. Sandy blonde hair, kept short with a hint of a wave. His face had a little growth. He wore a black tee shirt, jeans and an open short sleeve blue checkered shirt. Probably forty, maybe older, it was hard to tell.

  The second I slid onto the stool next to him, he looked at me.

  There it was. That look. He wanted to question my choice in seating, I knew it.,

  The barmaid wasn’t any better, in fact, she looked fearful for me.

  “Hon, you sure you won’t be more comfortable at the other end?” She asked. “You get a good view of Sam our singer.”

  “No I’m good here.”

  “Okay then, what can I get you.”

  “Bourbon and soda,” I said.

  Bill whispered in my ear. “Once she gives you the drink, strike up a conversation. Tell him you are here because of him.”

  The barmaid set down my drink, told me the cost and I pushed the money forward and told her to keep the change. She stayed close by, I suppose to see what I was up to.

  “So.” I said.

  Checkered shirt man looked at me.

  “This is gonna sound really odd,” I said, taking a big old gulp of my drink for courage. “But I came to find you.”

  “Really.” He spoke in a smoky voice. “You aren’t from around here.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Prostitution is illegal.”

  “Oh my God, I’m not a hooker.”

  “Well, if you’re here to try to pick me up. Don’t bother.” He lifted his drink and downed it, then signaled to the bartender for another. “I’m taken.”

  “In a sense, he is,” Bill said. “He’s a priest. Father Craig Thomas.”

  I wanted to blurt out, ‘he’s a priest?’, I just didn’t see it, he wasn’t dressed like one, nor was he behaving like I’d expect a priest to behave.

  Bill continued, I guess he sensed my disbelief. “He’s on a church ordered sabbatical.”

  Craig slammed down his glass. “I want to know how your friend knows this.”

  Hearing that, I nearly fell from my stool. “You .. you see him.”

  “I see him.”

  “See who?” asked the bartender.

  Craig quickly looked at me.

  “Hey …” the bartender nearly sang her words. “I know you.” She said. ‘You’re that woman who died for eighteen hours. Yeah, that’s you.”

  Suddenly and manically Craig laughed, finished off his drink and stood. “Oh, I get it now. Meg, I’ll be back.” He walked by me abruptly.

  “Wait!” I called to him and hurriedly followed. “Wait.”

  Outside he kept walking.

  “Wait.” I called out again.

  He stopped. “What do you want from me.”

  �
��How did you see him? No one does.” I said.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I knew this was coming. Bill, right? He likes that name Bill for some reason.” He looked beyond me and to Bill. “So you’re taking the form of aging rock stars these days. Quite a switch from political figures.”

  “It depends on the person,” Bill said.

  “Wait. Wait.” I held up my hand. “What is going on?”

  “You died.” Craig said. “Bill is with you. He wants you to find people to give a wonderful gift to. They can meet someone on the other side they lost. Right? He sent you to me for help.”

  “Yeah, but …”

  “That bourbon and soda you ordered?” Craig asked. “It’ll turn to straight bourbon. It won’t be enough. It will never be enough. I am so sorry for you. I am.”

  “I am so lost,” I said. “How can you say this? How can you see Bill.”

  “I was there. I guess you can say …” Bill said. “I am you. Only I was you, ten years ago.”

  I stood for a moment, under a clear sky staring up to this priest. I was shocked at first then all I could say was, “Then if that’s the case, all the more reason not to walk away.”

  <><><><>

  I had him convinced to come with me. It did, however take me telling him I had bourbon in my RV. A bribe. I brought him to the RV. I thought about just bringing him back to the suite but that was just plain weird.

  “Where are you staying?” I asked him.

  “At the Chevy,” Craig replied.

  “Where’s that at?”

  “Parked in this lot. I was staying at a bed and breakfast but I was thinking it was time to move on, so I checked out this morning.” He glanced at Bill.

  I turned to Bill. “Did you know he was moving on?”

  “Of course he did,” Craig answered.

  “Do I get to talk?” Bill asked.

  “No you’ve said enough.”

  “Okay,” I blurted out, trying to break the tension. I stood. “Let’s take the RV back to the hotel. You are more than welcome to sleep in the suite or here.”

  “This is cozy, and I think I’ll take you up on that. Where’s that bottle?”

  Before taking the driver’s seat, I retrieved him a bottle and a glass, then proceeded to drive the RV the short distance back to the motel.

  I parked, made him a sandwich, and we weren’t settled only a few minutes when Brad showed up.

  Before Craig could ask, I said, “This is Brad. In case you’re wondering he’s not my son. He’s ..”

  “Your help. Not your kid. The chosen don’t have a family,” Craig finished my sentence. “He’ll travel with you until it gets too much too fast. He’ll never be the same. There’s another person, too, more than likely a woman. An organizer. It’s the way it works.”

  Brad slipped into the table with him. “How do you know this?”

  “Like I told her …” Craig downed his drink. “What is your name anyway?”

  “Natalie.”

  “Like I told Natalie. Ten years ago, I was her. Only Bill didn’t look like Bon Jovi, he looked like a young Ronald Reagan.”

  “Wait. Wait.” Brad held up his hand. “You see Bill?”

  “I know Bill. He was Ronald Reagan for me, Was Churchill for the poor sucker before me, who was it before that …”

  “Enough.” Bill stood.

  “Yeah,” Craig snapped. “It is enough. Enough of this. But for you it won’t be, it’ll never be enough.” He faced me. “This isn’t a once and a lifetime chance. A brand new thing. Every time the world lacks faith, this happens. It’s been attempted before.”

  “Attempted?” Bill asked with a sarcastic laugh. “No, it’s been done. With success.”

  “Stop.” I spoke firm. “I am so confused. I never heard of this before. I don’t remember hearing about anyone dying and given this quest.”

  “And you never will,” Craig said. “Just like people won’t remember you a year from now. Maybe some will, they’ll know you as a whacko.”

  Then Brad said, “I’m even more confused why Natalie had to find this guy. He’s angry, bitter and apparently…” he lifted the bottle. “A drunk.”

  “He’s a priest,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Brad. “Why did Bill pick him.”

  Bill answered and I conveyed the answer to Brad who couldn’t see or hear him, “He said so Fr. Craig can finish. Find his own resolution in finishing what he started.”

  Craig twitched his jaw. “Did he tell you why I didn’t finish? Did he tell you why I let people down who had their hopes up? Did he tell you the catch? The catch to it all is why I stopped.”

  Brad shifted his eyes from me to Craig. “What’s the catch.”

  “In order for them to meet their loved ones, to get to the other side of heaven,” Craig replied. “They all have to die.”

  11. THE CALLED – THE TRUTH

  Immediately after hearing the conditions, I was infuriated, I felt as if not only was I lied to, but misled others. Fr. Craig looked smug over my reaction, Brad was indifferent and Bill, simply said, “Well, how did you think they’d get there.”

  I listened to Bill explain that each chosen person would get a day, that sometime during the course of that day, they would pass away. How they’d go directly to a special place where their loved one would be waiting. The loved one would not only carry the knowledge of the time that had passed, they will have been refreshed to the moments just before their death. Refreshed meaning, they’d carry those same feelings they had when they were alive.

  The chosen would be dead for three minutes, not enough time to declare a miracle, but enough time to change a life.

  “If they come back,” Craig said. “There’s a chance they may not come back.”

  “Is that true?” I asked Bill.

  “They could choose to stay and not walk back through.”

  “Four of the five didn’t return,” Craig said. “Not on my watch, but back in 1983. The Called … that’s what they call us you know, the ones picked to do the dirty work, The Called in that instance was tried for murder, that he did something to these people. He wasn’t found guilty, but he sure carried it. He ended up killing himself. The church teaches us that suicide is a sin, wonder if he got a buy because of his good deed.”

  “He killed himself, you’re drinking yourself to death,” Bill said. “Wanna know the difference? He made a difference. You stopped. You led people to believe they would get this great gift and you didn’t follow through. I thought, you know, maybe … just maybe you’d want to finish what you started and stop this madness.”

  They argued and poor Brad was just baffled because, I guess to him it looked as if Craig was arguing to himself. I needed air and I left the RV, grabbed my phone and called Artie.

  I expected her to join my anger crusade about it., I ever explained it all with edgy words, maybe subconsciously trying to get her to say, “You are so right. Run. Run away from this.’

  Instead, she was calm.

  “It makes sense, you know, the dying,” she said. “It does. I just assumed that was probably how it happened.”

  “But, Artie, is it right to do this to people?”

  “You’re not doing anything,” she said. “Remember. You may choose who goes, but it ultimately their choice if they want to go.”

  She was right. I could pick them, tell them the circumstances, but was their choice. Who was I to take that away?

  12. The Called – Is it worth it?

  Arthur Fletcher was one of the ‘Named’ back in 1983, chosen to go spend a day with someone he loved and lost. His daughter. Arthur was the only one of the five who didn’t die. Even Brad in all his youth and tech know-how, had a hard time finding out about the incident. An article about an Insurance salesman from London who was tried for the murder of four people when he led them to believe they’d meet a dead loved one.

  That article gave him the name of Mr. Fletcher, who moved to the United States short
ly after his testimony freed the insurance man. That was the end of the information. At least information available on line.

  So I began my own investigation. If the information wasn’t readily available, how did Fr. Craig find out.

  Fr. Craig wasn’t so easily swayed into his quest. Yes, he died and was dead for six hours following a fishing accident. He met Bill, was told his mission, and started his search. The Pastor at a local parish introduced him, ironically to Travis.

  My interview with Travis wasn’t the first … or the second. It was Travis that informed Craig about a woman ten years earlier who had come to see him about the same thing.

  Travis had never been picked.

  Bill with all good intentions told Craig about Martha. A senior citizen who froze to death in her apartment, came back, and selected her five. Bill believed if he told Craig, that would help him. A part of Craig still wasn’t convinced the Quest was the right thing to do.

  Meeting Martha backfired.

  Two of her five didn’t return and it weighed heavily on her and she told Craig, ‘at least she wasn’t the insurance man.’

  “I reached him by telephone,” Craig said. “He begged me not to do it. That he himself wasn’t convinced it was an act of God. He told me about the five. About the trial. Then two days later he took his own life.”