4:4
Stacey was hovering over the operating table. Her mother’s chest open wide and the surgeon was leaning in close. A nearby machine beeped with metronome regularity. Two nurses and another doctor stood by close. A tray of shiny metal instruments lay on a tray beside the table. Long black tubes wound around it and into her mother’s chest.
Stacey couldn’t hear what was being said. It all sounded like distant mumbling in a long tunnel. All of the people’s bodies had a faint glow to them, a slight indication of a brighter light inside.
Except for her mother. Her illumination was halfway out of the still flesh on the table. Its shining gave the whole room a brilliant yellow haze. The energy swam quickly all throughout her spirit.
The tension in the place was rising. Instructions were being called out forcefully with more volume. The nurses were rushing now. Something was very wrong. The dark yellow essence was rising out slowly. The frequent chiming of the machine had become one long continuous tone. Stacey watched as they tried to restart her heart.
The dark yellow light was almost black now. It had become less smoky, less transparent. It looked almost like liquid now. Her mothers’ material body was dying. In another few seconds she would be free. No longer bound to this dimension. The light was completely out of her body on the table. They were still attempting to revive her. Then she saw her daughter.
Stacey?
Yes Mom, it’s me.
She floated over and embraced her mother. As they hugged they could feel themselves drifting into each other. The edges of their energies were mixing. Marion could feel her daughters’ sadness and fear. Stacey began to feel her mom’s love for her. It was simple, unwavering and eternal. She was starting to understand her on a spiritual level. Even with all the mistakes that had been made between them, the misunderstandings, and petty resentments, love’s connection had never wavered.
Stacey, I don’t know how, but I know you don’t belong here. I have to go on without you. The embrace ended and their energies returned to them.
I love you, Mom.
The dark liquid yellow had changed into a bright white vapor.
I will always love you dear. Always.
She gently passed through the ceiling and was gone. Stacey knew there was a better place waiting for her mother. The doctor pulled a sheet up over Marion’s face. They couldn’t save her. What they didn’t realize was that she didn’t want to be saved anymore. The pain of that world was behind her now. Heaven was waiting.
4:5
Elizabeth woke up screaming. Cold tears streamed down her swollen face. The morning was pitch black in the back of her cell, as was every morning. A dim bulb illuminated the hall, carving thick, bar shaped shadows through the doorway, onto the floor.
The green blanket hung over her naked body. There was only a piece of dirty cardboard between her and the freezing concrete. Shivering, she pushed herself up.
A tray of food sat in the middle of the room. Someone must’ve set it there while she slept. It had pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, two slices of buttered bread and a glass of water. It made her feel sick to her stomach to even think about eating, but the water was eagerly accepted. She guzzled it down so fast it hurt her throat. She wiped her dripping chin with her forearm, nervously scanning the corridor.
The constant crying from the other cells echoed the hall. The girl with no name was somewhere unseen. Elizabeth couldn’t see her, but she knew the girl was there. She had to be.
“Are you there?” she whispered.
No answer came out of the darkness, nor could any movement be seen. Elizabeth stared into the thick shadow at the back of the cell. It was the blackest void she had ever seen, overflowing with death. Somewhere inside it was a pair of frightened eyes. They were pleading with her, begging her to stop.
Oh Jesus.
The reflection in the polished steel of the blade was her own eyes, staring back at her. They too, were desperate for Elizabeth to make it end. There was no stopping it until the girl’s voice ate her mind alive.
It’s the screaming that will drive you mad.
The stained blanket slid off her shoulders and down to the gritty floor. She was right behind it, falling into the blackness of her own shadows. The back of her head hit the concrete hard and the blood flowed. She laid on her back, her whole body shaking. Her shrieking cries ricocheted through the basement, up the crumbling stairs and against the door.
Only the faintest, distant wail could be heard in the kitchen. Even a person with his ear pressed against the door could not have recognized the sound as human. It could have just as easily been a loose alternator belt or a squeaky wheel on a toy wagon.
Elizabeth’s anguish seemed miles away from the man who had caused it. He sat serenely at the table eating his lunch. He looked over at the closed entrance to the basement. Taking a big bite of mashed potatoes, he cocked his head as if to listen to a whisper entering his ear. He knew what he was hearing was not a squeaky wheel. He knew what it was and who it was. It was the only part of her that would ever escape.
He stopped his vigorous chewing to say, “Welcome to the club, my dear.”
4:6
Jack sat quietly in the waiting room with his arm around his wife’s body. He had removed the necklace and placed it back inside the velvet box, which was now resting safely in the pocket of his thick winter coat.
Stacey gasped. She was back. Her eyes were full of tears when they met Jack’s.
“Mom’s gone.” she choked out.
Jack took her in his arms and held her tight.
“I got to say goodbye to her. I saw her. Thank you jack, thank you.”
It felt like a part of him was being crushed. His tears came out freely and they embraced each other in the waiting room for a few minutes and then walked out to the car. They didn’t wait for the doctor to come out and give them the news they already knew. They just wanted to go home.
Jack called his parents on his cell phone. When his mother picked up he could hear his son playing in the background.
“Hello?”
“Hey, mom.”
“What’s happening? Is she alright?”
A silence lingered in the receiver. He didn’t know how to say it.
“She didn’t make it,” he said it in a solemn whisper.
“Oh god. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell us if there’s anything we can do, okay?”
“Do you want us to keep Christopher for awhile?”
“No. That’s all right mom. We’re coming to pick him up. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Stacey listened as Jack said goodbye to his mother. She sat in silence, wondering how she was going to tell her six year-old son that this Nana had passed away.
Stacey waited in the car when Jack went in to get Chris. She gave him a sad smile when he ran out into the front yard. She opened the door and he climbed on her lap and gave her a hug.
“Is Nana home now, Mommy?”
Jack was on the porch with his father, talking and looking out at Stacey. She squeezed her son tight, crying.
“No baby. Nana passed away. She’s gone to a better place.”
He leaned back, confused. “Nana didn’t get better?”
“I’m sorry honey. Nana’s in heaven now, with Grandpa Frank.”
“Oh,” he said weakly, with his eyes red and full of tears.
They embraced again. Jack was at the car now. He put a hand on his son’s back.
“You okay, Chris?”
He didn’t answer. He cried on his mom’s shoulder most of the way home. As Stacey held him in her lap she thought about her mother’s bright blue spirit hovering over the operating table.
She had not been sad to be leaving. While Stacey was going to miss her mom, she felt a sense of happiness for her too. Death was not the end, it was a new beginning. A wondrous journey was starting for Marion. She would be with her husband soon.
Frank had been waiting for her almost five years. Mundane life was such a distant memory to him. His afterlife had far outshined anything he’d experienced on Earth. There were some things though, that he would never forget. His wife Marion, whom he’s spent thirty-five years with, was the love of his life, and beyond.
copyright ©2002 Brian Holtz
All rights reserved