INTERLUDE (Between Chapters 9 and 10)

“World Where Green Grass Grows” a short story by Emma Grace Lanrete

In the land where green grass grows lived a girl. She lived in grass and wore grass clothes and ate grass and was sick of grass.  Others did not seem to mind their grass world, but she knew there must be a better place to live. So every day she walked a different direction until dark to try to find a place where grass did not grow. From the elders she had heard of places with rocks or cement or asphalt. She just wanted to walk in a place that did not feel squishy, but gave her a firm foothold. She would not give up. 

On one of her daily trips the girl found among the grass a compass-like object that sparkled in the sun. It did not have the normal N-S-E-W for north, south, east and west on it. Instead there were the letters V-E-I-L. Maybe this special compass would help her find the direction she needed to go. Since “E” was the only compass letter she was familiar with, she decided to head towards where the arrow pointed to “E” first. 

It would take longer than one day to get there she was sure, so she packed a bag of grass, for that was all she had. She could eat it as a salad when hungry, sleep on in as a pillow when tired and weave it into a blanket when cold. After many days she came to the land of “E” or Elderly. 

She was excited to find it had more things besides grass. They grew other edible food in the ground. She pulled out a long orange root with a familiar green colored top from dirt and ate the crunchy delicious new food. Yes, this was much better than grass and there was even dirt to walk on. Maybe she would stay here. The houses were not all made of grass, but had mud walls. She started to notice most things were brown. There was not much green at all. 

The people there were dull colored as well. They were all very very old. No one died here they just got older and older, saggier and saggier, droopier and droopier, grayer and grayer. Many were blind and most could not hear well, if at all. The grass had all died, but the people didn’t. It was a farm for the elderly to rest comfortably until they withered away. 

The crunchy orange root had been tasty, but she did not want to waste away in the dirt one day, no, she would keep moving on and check out the other letters. Onto “I” that must be a better place to live. The grass was not as deep in her bag, so she filled it with the orange roots to eat and dirt to spread for a bed and started off again.

It was even further to the land of “I” which when she arrived found stood for A-I or Artificial Intelligence. This land had nothing green. The world was all shiny metal and chrome. A.I. robots ruled and people there were very rare. They did have some flesh and blood people to perform duties for when the power grid was down to get them functioning again. Nothing grew, but packets of freeze dried food were available to sustain life for the very few humanoids. 

The girl did have firm footholds to walk on, but the food tasted like cardboard and the people like her were slaves. She did not want to stay here at all. There was nowhere comfortable to rest her head when she tried to sleep. Her grass was packed down by now and had dwindled along the way. She stuffed some artificial food in her bag and headed towards the letter “L”. 

In LaDeDa Land she found a magical fairytale world with fairies, trolls and many mystical creatures. There was green grass, but flowers grew amidst it. Everything was alive and even the caterpillars and butterflies could talk. Maybe this was where the girl would stay. It looked it had everything a girl like her could ever want. She was thirsty so knelt down to drink the dew off of a flower petal. The grass under the tall trees was damp and squishy, but there were stone paths through the forest as well. 

Suddenly she doubled over with a stomach ache so sharp she could barely breath. A squirrel in the tree asked her if she had eaten anything. She shared that she had only had a few drops of water off the flower. The bushy tailed animal replied that she was lucky, everything in their land was poisonous to non-magical beings. If she had eaten a mushroom she would be dead. 

The girl shuttered and knew she must not stop here, she could not live in a land where she would have nothing to eat. So she pressed on and continued her journey towards the last letter on the compass circle, letter “V’. 

When she arrived at “V” she was so tired, she thought she would stay here for sure. It looked like a lovely land and had to be better than her last three stops. She was out of grass and had not been able to pack anything from the last land, so her bag was nearly empty. She saw many children her age here. They all seemed busy doing their jobs. In fact all the children were doing everything that adults normally did in her world, but she saw no adults here. Where could they be?

She stopped a boy near her age and asked where all the adults were in their land. He told her he was nearly the oldest in this world. When they turned sixteen their eggs were harvested to grow children in the laboratory for the next generation of InVitro Land and they were sent off on a trek over the mountain never to return. (Maybe they went to the land of the Elderly she wondered.) This kept everyone young, vital and strong  with little disease. No one was lazy because they knew they had but a few years to enjoy life. He was nearly sixteen himself so really did not have time to stop and talk, but he wished her well. How old are you he asked?

She suddenly realized the letters on the compass also spelled L-I-V-E, live. She just  wanted to go back and live where the green grass grew. Why had she not appreciated it. Wherever your home is seemed like the best place you can be. But it was too late. She was already sixteen. They harvested her eggs and sent her off on the long walk over the grassless dirt hill called death never to return.

EPILOGUE (EARTH)

EPILOGUE-(EARTH)

Just over a year later earth-time…

Emma sat straight-backed on the metal folding chair in her royal blue gown and mortar board cap with gold tassel. She was watching Cash, like a proud mother, as he gave their Valedictorian speech. They were actually graduating, they had made it! 

He did not seem nervous at all as he described their less-than glowing last four years socially at Eastside Mountain High and how none of those experiences really mattered now. They were all receiving the degree they had come day in and day out to walk away with. Students in the audience vacillated back and forth between chuckles and uncomfortably squirming on their seats. She did not know Cash could be so humorous. He was nailing it. Cashias Benedict Burton continued on encouraging their classmates to look to the future and not rest on the laurels they felt they may have accomplished in high school’s microcosm of real life. Each member of class of 2017 could go on to make a difference in the world, even if that difference was to just one person it would be enough. 

He shared John F. Kennedy’s quote, “One person can make a difference and everyone can try.” And also quoted Albert Einstein, one of his heroes, “The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything.” It was classic Cash at his best. Emma felt emotion well up inside her, he really was something pretty wonderful. She was so glad he came home from Amsterdam for their senior year and would miss him so much next year at college. 

Emma had been awarded the Salutatorian Scholastic Award having earned a 3.97 grade point average and she felt fine about that. She knew it should have been much worse with all the struggles she had waded through. Cash had been accepted at MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology), the University he had always dreamed of attending, but had decided to attend Stanford instead. Stanford University awarded him a full ride scholarship partly because he aced the ACT test. He would be closer to Emma at Stanford since she had been accepted into U.C. Berkeley’s writing program, probably due to her entrance essay. She openly poured onto pages the experience of her mother’s aneurysm, life in bed and ultimate passing, painting a hypnotizing picture with her words. Mrs. Dudley had returned to teaching this last semester and was able to help Emma fine tune the entry assignment. She even was awarded a partial scholarship which would help and Berkeley was close enough she would be able to go home on long weekends and holidays. 

Over on the bleachers to the right side of the gymnasium sat Emma’s cheering section. Her father, Joy and Arty. She was pretty sure her mother was in attendance too even though she could not see her sitting amid the others in the stands. Arty was dressed in a bright yellow t-shirt Joy had given him with the acronym S.M.I.L.E. on it. SMILE stood for “See Miracles In Life Everyday”. It was a good reminder for Emma and made the little group easier to spot. Joy had stayed on after her mother’s departure to work with Arty and had become like a favorite aunt. Her dad let Joy use a room in their house for her growing Ayurveda based healing business she had started on the side, as long as it didn’t interfere with her care of Arty. It seemed to assist Arty more than interfere so it worked out for everyone. She would miss them all too. 

Father Jack had oddly seemed to gain some life with Maggie’s death. Like the energy that left her body infused into his or something. He was still the same reserved man he had always been, but better. He seemed less alone than when Maggie’s body had been lying near in the bed. He made an effort to be home more and Emma even saw a slight smile occasionally brighten his countenance. On the date of his and Maggie’s wedding anniversary he told Emma to put on something nice and dressed up Arty too, then surprised them by going to a top-rated restaurant for dinner together.  His explanation was that if it had not been for this date he would not have the two of them so they needed to celebrate.  

Weekly one could find him at the small local cemetery placing fresh flowers on her mother’s grave and visiting with her tombstone. Jack had donated a cement bench with attached plaque in Maggie’s name for people to sit and spend time with their deceased loved ones when he was not. Emma made an effort to also go check in with her mom as often as she could. But it was a private time, so neither father nor daughter wanted to attend together. 

Cash finished speaking and there was a huge round of applause followed by a standing ovation. He was sure sending them off in style. The rest of the graduation ceremony went by in a blur besides the part when they called her name, “Emma Grace Lanrete”, as she walked across the elevated platform for her diploma. She could hear Joy’s whistle and Arty’s laugh from the crowd and Cash’s “way to go” as she walked by him. It was all surreal. 

As a concluding song for the ceremony an ensemble of juniors from her choir class sang their class song for the graduating class of 2017, “Rise Up” by Andra Day. The familiar words felt like Emma’s anthem for her last few years of high school here at Eastside Mountain High. 

You're broken down and tired

Of living life on a merry go round

And you can't find the fighter

But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out

And move mountains

We gonna walk it out

And move mountains

And I'll rise up

I'll rise like the day

I'll rise up

I'll rise unafraid

I'll rise up

And I'll do it a thousand times again

And I'll rise up

High like the waves

I'll rise up

In spite of the ache

I'll rise up

And I'll do it a thousands times again

For you

When the silence isn't quiet

And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe

And I know you feel like dying

But I promise we'll take the world to its feet

And move mountains

We'll take it to its feet

And move mountains

And I'll rise up

I'll rise like the day

I'll rise up

I'll rise unafraid

I’ll rise up…

Yes, she had risen up to the occasion called life and here she was graduating….one small step up in the much longer journey.

After they had moved the tassel to the other side of the mortar boards and tossed their caps in the air, Emma started to exit the gym engulfed in the flow of bodies. She had arranged to meet her little group outside the south door near a large oak tree. But before she could press herself through the throng, a familiar hand grabbed her arm and guided her to the side out of the way under the bleachers. 

“I just needed a moment with you to myself before all of this is over. There is only one goal I have not accomplished in High School that I still need to take care of.”  

With those words, Cash gently cupped Emma’s blushing cheeks in his large hands pulling her face incredibly close to his. Soft, warm, slightly open lips made smooching contact with her still shocked ones. It did not take long however for hers to respond in like fashion, as if they knew just what to do as long her mind would stay out of the way. 

Regrettably, both paused for a breath aware reciprocal feeling were exploding their friendship to a new graduation level that they did not need a diploma for. Others were waiting to congratulate them, so they responsibly separated with an unspoken promise of more to come. Their commencement had been sealed with a kiss …highlighting the beginning of their happily forever after…

Epilogue - Heaven

EPILOGUE- (HEAVEN)

Heavenly moments later…

 Numerous hosts of heaven gathered for the wedding. Not only were the bride and groom adorned in glorious glowing white, but all of those in attendance. Each member of Emma’s above-team were present as well as ancestors who lived on earth throughout many dispensations representing both sides of the elated couple. Nuptials were a rare event in this realm and a time for grand celebration. 

Pearl was humbled to have been asked to be the beautiful bride’s attendant. The honor was usually reserved for a family member, but she was related to the groom’s line so was suitable. The celestial space echoed with heavenly strains as the groom’s guests aligned on the right side of the cavernous room and the bride’s on the left. 

In the front near an alter stood the entwined twosome, not only holding hands, but holding each other’s gaze as if no one else were present. A senior Patriarch from Lewis’s line was to perform the ceremony that would eternally join them in matrimony. Lily was radiant and Lewis felt like he could finally breath. The weight (and wait) of nearly two centuries fell from his broad shoulders and there had never been a more beaming bride. Lily felt like she had been inside a dream since her death and ultimate arrival.  

Her last winter on earth was bleak.  Lily’s effervescent will to carry on evaporated along with the presence that was no longer present. She had never felt so alone. When she caught a cold that turned into pneumonia , at first she did not have the desire to go to a doctor and then not the energy. Hemingway, that dear beast, tried to rouse her, but by then it was too late. Lily could have fought a little harder to hold on she supposed, but when she saw her dear Aunt Mary and Uncle David along with a few others enter the room to escort her on, she let go and passed with them through the portal. 

Later she was relieved to learn the fireman who found her body adored and adopted her dog, even though she always thought Hemingway would end up with Emma. It was comforting that Emma would now be family and that she would get to see Hemingway again one day when he came to romp and roam the hills of heaven. 

Dying was actually such a peaceful journey. It felt like going home. Her aunt and uncle took her hands and gently lifted Lily out of her inert physical shell still lying on the roughly hewn wood floor. She felt indescribably light, not only physically weightless, but brilliant as she shed the cold carcass. All three of them, she, David and Mary, appeared about the same age, like peers, and she could remember an eternity of connection with them. Knowledge that they had been near her much of her walk through the world below also came as the cloud was cleared from her memory. The love they had always felt for her emanated around them. 

A cylinder of  light rays radiated down from the ceiling and as they entered it’s circumference were transported rapidly upward through swirling colors and light. It was not like any amusement ride she had been on, more like a kaleidoscope of understanding unveiled. The experience was unmeasurably timeless. It could have been minutes or decades, but was just what Lily required to be ready to arrive in the world above.

It was a  festive entry into this domain with many deceased family members there to honor her return, but she had been distracted. There was a pull from across the expanse that she could not shake. She felt the presence that had been by her side much of those last years at Wildwood. 

Finally excusing herself from the initial welcoming team she had wandered further into the new space to seek the spirit she had missed immensely. Towards the back, almost hidden, was a striking male presence. He was not romance-novel handsome, but dignified and undeniable. She sensed he was a solid man of substance even in this world were substance was relative. 

“It is you, it has always been you…” Lily breathlessly communicated. 

Lewis raised his sky- blue eyes to meet her forrest green ones. The connection was electric and immediate. Lewis did not need to answer, but replied, “I would have waited several more centuries for you.”

Feelings were definitely mutual and it did not take long to arrange this ceremony to finally make things official.  

Lily could now make sense of many of her earth-life happenings. Things that seemed tragedies below were now merely minor inconveniences that helped get her to where she needed to be….eternally with Lewis by her side. This uniting was infinite times beyond anything the fall farm wedding, that was not, would have been. She felt so blessed and realized she had truly been watched over even, no especially, during her most painful times. The words to a song filled her head and she wondered who else could hear them, “Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love can be, the great love story that is older than the sea…”

Reverend Michael Joseph Meyerhoeffer stood before the intended duo. This great great grandfather and Lewis had grown close though they had never crossed paths while living on earth. His love for the couple consumed them both multiplying the surrounding luminance . Lewis and Lily shared a few feelings from their now completed hearts, before Reverend Meyerhoeffer took one of their heavenly hands in each of his. 

“You two dear souls understand more than most the significance of this event.  You have both been tempered by the experiences you have endured and return more glorious than when you left. Never has a couple been united that was more desiring or suited. You are both unique, individual beings, but from this time forth you will be united as one in purpose.” He then placed their hands together and let them hold the fingers that had but briefly been apart since they officially met. “I unite you not until death do you part, but for time and all eternity….to walk through forever hand in hand and heart in heart. You are still separate, but will always also be one. Lewis you may embrace Lily as your eternal companion.” 

Even before the last words had been spoken, they were engulfed in each others arms looking like they would have to be pried apart at some point, if they ever needed to be. Lewis and Lily were undeniably a match made in heaven.

Chapter 17 (Earth)

Chapter 17 (Earth- April)

Spring, the season heralding rebirth arrived with all the colors, smells and hopes that accompany it. The vibrant green world seemed to be screaming life, life, life, whenever Emma looked out the window. Bunnies and chicks, the designated mascot of the season, popped up all over the rural neighborhood far before Easter. 

The Lanrete’s small yard pond full of colorful koi finally thawed out. Emma assumed all the fish died over the harsh winter since they were sealed below the surface of the water by several inches of ice, topped off with four feet of snow at times. She prepared herself for a mass fish funeral or to just have them all thrown in with her when she was put to rest. To her shock as the ice melted there in the murky water floated a few dead fish, but to her glee she saw the majority of the school swimming among the remaining ice chunks. There were gold fish, black fish, white fish and even her favorite one white with orange polkadots. Dr. Seuss could write a whole new fish book featuring this crew. From the articles she had read, they should not have survived in such shallow water, yet here they were. Life was a fickle thing, but for some reason this unexpected koi victory made Emma happy. 

The warmer weather called Emma’s name. She was out the door and exploring everyday. On the paved paths wet worms were stranded as they tried to escape the soggy soil on the sides to prevent being drowned. Emma picked up a stick and flung as many as she could back onto dirt areas so they would not dry out into crispy worm french fries. A red breasted robin, the ultimate symbol of spring’s return, seemed to appear at every turn. At first Emma thought it was following her looking for breakfast, like in “the early bird gets the worm”. But even after the worms were no longer on the asphalt path there was Mr. Robin around every turn. Imagining if maybe he was a shapeshifter who practiced Therianthropy, the mythological ability of human beings to metamorphose into other animals, she wondered who her bird friend could be underneath his disguise. With Cash away her imagination had become her best friend. 

“Hey Red Robin,” the bird cocked its head, but did not fly away as any normal bird should do (for the second time this year) when Emma spoke to it, “if you are trying to tell me something you need to spit it out or at least tweet it to me. I am not too good at figuring things out on my own in case you did not know.” 

The bird continued to hop along at times behind and others times landing up in front of her along their walk keeping Emma company, but failing to enlighten her with any inspiration unfortunately. 

All the unpaved trails to anywhere were a mass of mud. Grooves, tracks and footprints pock marked the messy paths. Emma could not make it to Lily’s domicile without slipping, sliding and having her sneaker bottoms coated in an inch or more of thick slimy, gooey wet packed dirt. The mud just made the journey a challenge. She did not want to miss the world waking from it’s winter slumber and Lily was never afraid of Emma bringing in a little dirt through her door. 

The breath of new life that permeate the surrounding hills seemed to be shut out of Lily’s cold cabin for some reason. Lily did not seem to be rallying with the return of good weather. Emma did not have any medical training and she was not yet seventeen, but in her inexperienced youth opinion, she sensed things were not quite right. One spring visit she boldly suggested Lily should seek professional medical advise. Her woodsy friend replied she did not feel a doctor could fix what ailed her, but thanked Emma for caring. She said she had a strong impression she would be going on a journey to see her loved ones soon and that would bring her back to life and help her recover her old self.  Emma had to trust her, Lily was one of the wisest women she knew. She just wished she could help more. 

Mrs. Dudley had not returned to teach all year. Emma heard a rumor that she was really sick. Some students said she had cancer, others said no, she went back to Nebraska to take care of her mother who had cancer. Rumors were like that. Who knew the real truth. Emma regretted not getting an address from her treasured teacher before she left. It would have been nice to correspond or at least send some last words to her before the fateful  seventeenth birthday or death-day arrived. Author’s and artist’s works were often more valuable after they were gone. Maybe Mrs. Dudley would appreciate having some of Emma’s words to remember her by…or at least start fires with if they were trash. 

She received a Valentines Day card from Cash in February which was surprisingly mushy for him. It was not computer shaped like his original card in the third grade had been, but actually a simple heart on a blank Hallmark card. He had copied a code inside with the caption explaining, “Emma, it is easier for me to express myself in numbers than it is in words as you know. Your Valentine’s message can be a treasure hunt and if you cannot decipher it before I get home, I will help you break the code in August”:

13 8 11  1 18 3  1 20 25  12 5 21 21  1 21 12 1 13 10  26 3  7 13  8 20 3  1 20 25  

8 20 21 13  16 1 21 3 20 17 5 20 3,  5  21 8 16 3  13 8 11  3 7 7 1.  

Of course the challenge was on and there was no way she was going to wait for Cash to figure it out, who knew if she would still be alive when he returned the end of summer. She started with a code breaking key that was far too easy where each letter of the alphabet A-Z was numbered from 1- 26, but the message turned out pure gibberish. There was no way it could even be a foreign language:

MHK  ARC  ATY  LEUU  AULAMJ  ZC  GM  HTC  ATY  HTUM  PAUCTQETC,  E  UHPC  MHK  CGGA.

Nothing, she had nothing. She tried reversing the code key and numbered the alphabet from Z to A starting with 1 through 26 again, but the results were not much better:

NSP  ZIX  ZGB  OVFF  ZFOZNQ  AX  TN  SGX  ZGB  SGFN  KZFXGJVGX,  V  FSKX  NSP  XTTZ.

Emma even typed the non-sensical words into Goggle in case they were from some obscure language that used a lot of Zs and Xs, but she had no better luck. What could that solitary science boy be trying to tell her? She did not want to go to her grave wondering. 

Some days she worked on the code, but finally became frustrated and put it away. Yesterday when it was not even on her mind the idea to break his code flowed freely into her thoughts out of thin air. Cash would never make a code too simple, but not impossible either. He just wanted her to work for it and left his true feelings for her in the hands of fate. The thought was to number the alphabet every other letter going down A=1, C=2, E=3, etc. down to Y=13, then come back up the alphabet filling in the gaps or even letters that were left with continuous numbers…Z=14, X=15, V=16, until she got back to B=26. 

For some reason since the formula just came to her, she had a feeling it might be the answer to unlock what was written. She felt slightly nervous as she wrote out the corresponding words:

YOU  ARE  AND  WILL  ALWAYS  BE  MY  ONE  AND  ONLY  VALENTINE,  I LOVE YOU EMMA. 

Awww, so simple, yet it expressed so much. Cash would probably be mortified if he knew she finally figured out his key. She wondered if he really felt that way, or was the puzzle just part of his present to her to help her pass the time when he was away. Either way he made remarkable effort to keep in touch and communicate across the miles. Since their friendship had begun on a Valentine’s Day, it was always “their” holiday to her and there are many forms of love. Too bad the English language did not have a more specific or maybe many different words to describe amor, that way she would have a better clue to the depth of his feelings. She did not want to read anything into his message that was not there. How did she know he did not have a gorgeous blonde Danish girl as his best friend these days and she was more his plain Jane buddy or side-kick back home. But the words still made her feel remembered and loved whatever form of the word. 

Emma was expecting another letter or perhaps even package for her birthday any day now. Cash was usually not late with anything, but international mail was not always reliable and it looked like his final communication to her might not be delivered on time. It would be a shame to not be able to read his last words to her before she exited earth. She doubted his letter could be forwarded on to her new address…1223 Cloud Lane, Heaven in the Sky perhaps, or 666 Fire Flames Way, Down-in-Hell …haha, definitely what critics would call black humor. But at least she felt like she would continue on in some form and was not bitter about her future location, mostly curious on what she would find in the afterlife. 

Today was the day of reckoning. Un-happy birthday to me, un-happy birthday to me, un-happy birthday dear Emma... Emma knew others had lives as hard or even far worse than she did. She was not starving and she lived in an above average home. It was not about the things. It never had been with her. She just wanted her life to be validated somehow. Was that too much to expect?

Seventeen years and what did she have to show for it… a cryptographer friend who lived far away in Amsterdam, a teacher also away on sabbatical for some unknown reason, a lake-lady who lived closer, but was withering away in the woods, a still distant dad, a brother who would never grow up, mentally at least, and a mother unconscious in bed. Perhaps her birthday should be the pity-party she was already throwing for herself.  

Emma trepidatiously stepped into her mother’s room like she was walking onto a gangplank. It had been a year. She had done all she could. Seventeen was a prime number so finite in it’s own way. She liked number patterns and found that thought oddly comforting. She had not made specific plans, that would make it premeditated, but as the day unfolded she would find a way, the hardest part was laying before her right now. Her mother had held on against all odds and her daughter was not following her valiant example. 

Emma gently sat beside her mother’s supine figure for the last time. What should she say? She had read once that the hearing is the last sense to go in coma situations, so always assumed her mother may be listening when she shared her life’s woes. But today was different. She was almost ashamed to tell her and hoped somehow her mother would understand. How had her existence come to this precipice point? She sat in silence for many minutes. Time had no relevance. Words would not come out, but tears flowed freely. This would be a perfect telepathic time. 

Washing over her was the realization that she would never be able to go through with the ugly act anyway, thus why she, the ultimate planner, had not created a final exit plan…she could never use a gun that would be far too violent and she did not have the skill or courage to use a knife, she could not drive to her death in an orchestrated car wreck because of the simple fact that she could not drive, nor did she have access to a car, and any other type of accident was too risky and would likely leave her maimed, but not dead. It would be best to just go to sleep and never wake up, but where would she get the pills, her mother’s meds did not include the type needed for an overdose and death by natural causes was highly unlikely for another sixty years or so….when had life ever gone according to her plans anyway. 

A song from the Hamilton CD unconsciously entered her mind. Alexander Hamilton’s son had died from a gunshot wound during a duel, not that she was considering a duel as a method of demise, duels were obsolete these days and his death was so wasteful and heart-wrenching. The lyrics to the song running through her thoughts were about his parent’s pain…“They were going through the unimaginable.” Emma had not even fathomed what ending her life would do to her dad. A third strike in his own little family unit may complete his spiral into the dark abyss. He barely seemed to be clinging onto reality as it was. Could she be so selfish, ending her own pain by adding to his?

Then there was the fact she always finished a book, even if she didn’t especially like it, just to see how it ended. 

Finally feeling she could look up from staring at her hands, the intended murder weapons, slight movement caught her line of vision. Was she imagining what she wished for or were her mother’s eyelashes fluttering a bit. Emma’s breathing stopped and her focus honed in on mom Maggie’s face. She lunged for her mom’s long fingers and held on tightly. 

“Mom if you are there, now is the perfect time to let me know. Please.” 

Was she finally looking into her mother’s long shut hazel eyes or was this a hallucination? Had she received a birthday miracle or had she finally totally lost it and gone insane? Reality did not matter at this point, two sets of matching eyes held each other’s gaze and immense love flowed between. Long empty pockets in Emma’s soul began to slowly fill. No sounds formed from the patient’s dry lips, but she heard her mother’s silky voice. Lips were definitely not moving, but sound was positively rising from her maternal figure. 

“Emma, my dearest daughter I am here. I have always been here. I am so sorry you have felt so alone. I wish I could scoop you up and hold you in my arms and tell you everything will be okay like when you were little. It will, but maybe not how you wish it to be. Things appear so different from where you sit than from my view which must seem so limited. Know that everything that happens to you is for a reason, every life you cross is not by coincidence, all things have a purpose. Just do the best you can every day and that is enough. You are enough. I don’t have long, but I was given this gift to leave my words with you on your special arrival on earth day. Know I will be close to you always and I can do much more for you where I am going than laying here in this bed by your side. Maybe somedays you will feel I am close and somedays far away, but I will never be too far. I love you so much…and am always and forever your mother.”

The soft liquid eyes slowly closed, if they were ever open, and with a final puff of breath her mother’s frail chest was so still. The rise and fall that had comforted her the last few years was gone. Maggie Lanrete was gone. But somehow Emma felt better, her burden lighter than it had in years. Peace flooded the room. Perhaps she wasn’t really gone like Emma had feared. Perhaps when we try to hold onto things too hard it just hurts more. In letting her mother go she felt like she was somehow freeing herself even more. Strangely she had just received the best birthday present she had ever been given and probably ever would be. Her mom was gone, but not really.

Bittersweet sobs erupted from deep within her heart and the lyrics to May Angels Lead You In (by Jimmy Eats World) played in her head accompanied by its eery melody….

There's no one in town I know

You gave us (me) some place to go.

I never said thank you for that.

I thought I might get one more chance.

May angels lead you in.

Hear you me my friend.

On sleepless roads the sleepless go.

May angels lead you in.

And if you were with me tonight,

I'd sing to you just one more time.

A song for a heart so big,

God wouldn't let it live.

 May angels lead you wherever you are going my dear mother. 

Happy Birthday was the next number in her mental concert. And ironically it was.

Chapter 16 (Heaven)

Chapter 16 (Heaven)

Pearl was still a part-timer here in heaven. She had not fully completed her mission on earth yet, but had requested to help on Emma’s team during the time she spent in the upper realm. It was a extra bonus that her grandparents were serving on this unit too. She had always wished to have more time with Ben and May while they were living. Grandparents are gone far too fast and one doesn’t always reserve the valuable time needed to avoid regret when they are gone. 

It looked like she would beat her own parents to heaven. Not that it was a race. She was not very close to them on earth, maybe she would get to know them more after they arrived. It did not look like that would take many more years. They both had failing health and were living in an assisted living facility. There had never been a falling out between parents and child. Pearl just followed her husband to where he was offered employment after college. The distance made it difficult to visit and they naturally grew apart. From this vantage point she knew her parents had missed her enormously and she felt bad she had not made more of an effort to travel to see them or let them know she did care. Forgiveness would be in order and freely offered hopefully. Humans make many mistakes. 

Everyone seemed so much wiser up here than she did. Her rapidly increasing capacity to learn would hopefully continue to kick in. Maybe everyone felt inadequate at first. It was amazing how much clearer she could see lives and events from this perch. All of her senses and reflexes were heightened. Using her new skills took practice. She felt like a superhero sometimes, maybe Spider-woman. There was still humor in heaven.  

The hardest part was watching the family she had left behind struggle. She ached to let them know she was okay and was doing all she could for them. Christian even allowed her spirit-self to sit at the Thanksgiving table with them while her physical form remained in another part of the house trapped between the bedsheets. She tried to communicate her presence. She was pretty sure Arty was the only one who knew she was there. The veil between these two worlds must be thinner for him. Sweet, humble Arty had a superpower too. She could see all the light that surrounded his simple-minded body and knew he was a great spirit before he went down to earth and would be when he returned. 

Emma felt something too at the table, it was quite apparent, but her teenaged daughter was too inward with all of her other issues to be open to the experience from across domains. Poor Jack was wallowing so deeply in sorrow that it would take a magic megaphone to break through to his sphere. He was not really a believer of things he could not see, so he would rationalize away any occurrence anyway. She missed them all profoundly, but still felt connected by the love they had for one another. 

It was a surprise to wake up after her aneurism to see her body crumpled on the floor below her. Emergency personal were working on her and then they took her to the hospital in an ambulance. She felt she should stay with her body, but seemed to wander off along the way. She could go anywhere her mind wanted to take her. 

She visited Emma and Arty at home with Joy and found Jack driving like a maniac to get to the hospital before returning to her body. That was when she first became aware there were other spirits in the room with her. Once she noticed them, they could communicate with her. She wondered if she was dead and supposed to go with them, but they let her know not yet. She would still be on earth for a while before she was delegated to be a full-time heaven dweller, but she would be going back and forth for training in the meantime.

How would that work? As soon as the thought came to her mind, their answer followed. She would be in an in-between state. Her body would be alive, but her mind and spirit would have the freedom to come and go. She later realized that is what a coma really is. Pretty crazy to be caught in this alternate existence, but it gave her time to process where she was going and what she was leaving behind.

To help with the transition she was called Pearl when she was in heaven. One of the meanings of her name, Maggie, was Pearl so it seemed a logical choice. Maggie/Pearl was caught between two worlds and was not the best she could be in either, but she could see her potential was endless. 

Though she did not have a home in heaven at this time, she visited often and communicated with permanent residents on a regular basis. Her current mission had her consumed when she was above, so the interactions were mission focused, not social. However one dashing young man emitting dazzling light, whose path she seemed to cross frequently, looked so familiar. 

Finally on one trip she had asked him, “Do I, or should I, know you?” 

He cautiously replied, “Maybe.”  Even more confused she had asked him to explain. And he suggested with a almost unnoticeable grin, “Look closer”. 

His sandy hair, hazel eyes, strong chin and slightly turned up nose reminded her of someone surely, but she could not place them at the moment. It is awful when a person knows they have seen someone before but cannot remember where. “Okay, I give up, tell me.” Pearl retorted. “Tell me please, before it drives me mad.”

The barely-a-grin turned into a full-face smile as he explained, “My name is Keegan. I am  assigned to possibly be your grandson. I will be born to Emma if she remains on the earth and makes according choices.”

 Pearl’s breath escaped her and she felt a bit light-headed. What? She was beholding her own grandson! The folding and interweaving of time never ceased to amaze her up here. She could get to know her grandson even before he was born. 

The magnitude of the moment blew her mind, but not enough that she forgot to embrace the man-boy with all her might. “Well, let’s just make sure you get where you need to be going young man!”, Grandma Pearl emphasized. 

“There are more of us”, Keegan added somberly, “but I will wait to introduce you to them until we know which way Emma’s story goes.”  

Every trip after that Pearl took at least a few moments, and sometimes longer, to check in with cute Keegan. He was so hopeful to be a part of the Lanrete line and willing to help her in anyway he could. It was incredible to get to know him as a man before he would be born a baby and grow into a boy. He seemed so wise, how could all that wisdom be packed into a tiny body. Birth to earth was really miraculous. He shared that he was in classes and would be tutored and advised until the fateful day of his scheduled birth, which would be in around seven years, if it was to be. 

Even though Keegan had never lived on earth or never even taken a trip there, he had been alive for many centuries. He had witnessed eons of earth events unfold as he waited his turn. At first he wondered if he did not have anything to offer mortality as he waited and waited, but eventually realized each spirit was unique and assigned their perfect time to magnify their talents given in the world below. 

Pearl discerned that Keegan made friends easily, his motto for life was “make wherever you are where you want to be”. He had certainly put those words to use and had amazing circles of acquaintances in this realm above. He knew and enjoyed discussing the world below with philosophers like Plato, Nietzsche and even Confucius. He lived fun-filled and existed in the moment hanging out with beacons of creativity like Di Vinci, Edison and his favorite Walt Disney. Keegan would be ready to enjoy every minute of earth life when he finally arrived as a Lanrete or other. He would have his time to shine. 

His closest circle were those who like himself were yet to navigate the ultimate experience of earth. They had all had a millennia to imagine what it would actually be like and prepare. Their mock-mortal scenarios were fun and imaginative, but lacked the bite of bodies that could feel and experience pain. Their diminishing numbers were more than family to one another. Before each exited to face the dangers below, they held tender “send-off” celebrations. They knew they would not remember each other on the other side and some may not return. It was an ultimate send off to war. Not like wars depicted in Hollywood’s movies, but the eternal battle between good and evil. Keegan never knew if he would see any of them again or if it would be the same when he did. It was an unknown that put a damper on the would-be parties, they were really so much more than that. Nonetheless Keegan was usually the life of the party with an understanding that spanned the eternities. 

Pearl hoped and prayed Keegan would be her grandson. She already loved and adored him. But the biggest dilemma she faced at this moment in the continuum of time was how to help her darling daughter Emma. She was blinded to who she really was. Her capabilities were also endless. It horrified her that Emma was so distraught that she felt she had no other options than to end her life on earth. Of course in some strange way, Pearl would love to have Emma here with her, but Emma’s time was not over. There were many things she had left to accomplish that she would miss out on if she left early, including Keegan.  Emma’s self-esteem was so extremely low. Had Maggie been that lacking and unaware as a mother, or had her incident magnified the situation. 

She watched from above as Emma wrote in her bird and feather covered journal words that ripped at a mother’s heart. Pearl’s Maggie-body lay in just the next room, through the thin wall, but was ineffectual in dealing with the words she read. Emma lay on her own twin bed below scratching words rapidly on the purple lined pages:

4-2-2017

“Today I brought home the “Hamilton” soundtrack in a double CD case from the library and listened to it over and over again. Since it is Sunday I didn’t have to go to school and had some empty hours to fill. I’ve been waiting weeks to hear the music and see for myself what the rage is about. The CD was backed up forever on the hold list since it has been such a smash hit Broadway show for the last year. I usually don’t love history, but the words to these hip hop songs made the American revolution come alive. I have to admit I shed tears as I listened to the musical story. Why does so much of history have to be so tragic. I wonder if I would have liked living during that time period. Such intense living with shorter life spans, but they were really living for something back then. 

I loved the song “Helpless” for obvious reasons. Haha. I must have played that one over at least ten times. The title fits how I feel about my situation totally, but the music felt so hopefully encouraging and really touched my heart for some reason. I can relate to the lyrics “I am down for the count and drowning in it.”  After about the third time immersed in the words I realized it is more of a falling in love song haha, but that is what life should be all about anyway shouldn’t it. It would be nice to be half of a timeless love story before I die. “Why do I feel like I am running out of time”.

That refrain in the musical felt like I was looking in the mirror, “why does he write like he is running out of time.”  I guess that is how I feel too. I want to leave a part of me so I m not forgotten totally. Not that my words will shape a country like Hamilton’s did, but maybe explain who I am and why I do what I do. 

Another of the songs had a line in the lyrics that said, “Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints”. I thought about that statement for a long time. I don’t think I am really either a sinner or a saint, but somewhere in the middle. Death really is no respecter of persons it seems. The grim reaper comes for all of us sooner or later. Does when he comes or how he comes matter?

Hamilton’s sweet wife Eliza kept trying to tell him he was enough, just staying alive was enough. But he did not or could not listen and had to do things the hard way. I don’t think that is my problem, but I feel like an orphan at times too and I think that was one thing that propelled him to make something of himself. I have much humbler goals.

Probably the words that hit me the deepest were sung by the President Washington character near the end of each half the musical…”You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story”…. Do we really have no control??? I suppose not in many areas of our lives, but maybe my words in this journal will help tell my story. Will anyone remember who I am or know what I thought? I want to write my own story, 

I know I have no control over if my mother lives or dies. Do I really have no control whether I do or not? Should I have control whether I live or not or is that for the heavens or fate to decide? I wish Alexander Hamilton would have lived longer. He died in such a stupid, senseless way and maybe he had much more to contribute to this world before he left. Was that part of the plan? Did his death have any purpose? 

I am so confused. I want to offer good things to this world, but feel like I have nothing to offer. Not that the world would be better off without me, but I doubt it would notice if I were gone. My life would make an uninteresting musical with the melodies to the songs all in monotone. Haha. The cast of characters would be colorful no doubt, but the plot a dreary plodding line and not sure what the big build up would be or who in the world would want to watch it. Haha. Just imagining my life all acted out is depressing. 

I have too much to think about and dig through in my mind. I overthink everything to the point of paralyzation. Maybe I should prolifically write instead like Hamilton. I doubt I will get much sleep. I might go out and lay under the stars. Perhaps they can shine light down to show me the way to go. Like bread crumbs through the heavens…sweet dreams to me.”

Pearl could hardly keep reading. She could feel all the swirling emotions of the words her little girl penned. Pearl knew she did not have much more time to be a part-timer going back and forth between both worlds not really a part of either. Her connection to temporal things was weakening as her spirit grew stronger. She needed to do something before she was no longer able to as Maggie. She needed Emma to know she was still there for her and always would be. She need to remind her daughter that good things come to those who wait. Pearl must convince Christian to let her carry out an idea that was forming in her mind.