Heaven and Hell (40 page)

No, he couldn’t do that. He would travel the width and breadth of the mighty city in search of a solution that he knew didn’t exist. Without hunger, thirst, or the need for sleep, there was nothing to bring an end to his sojourn through paradise. Time became a blur, a highway that extended to the horizon of eternity, and he was very capable of traveling the full length of that highway.

His mind wandered back to his existence on Earth, to a life that he now remembered with crystal clarity. Around him a million people passed by; people with only a vague recollection of their time of trial and tribulation upon the world of their first birth. To them, it was only the second birth that mattered, the birth that had granted them entrance into a better world, one without the troubles and sorrows of the first. To them, the events before that second birth were largely inconsequential. He knew not whether to envy their state of bliss or feel pity for their ignorance. For a time those around him were kindred spirits on the road to eternity, yet now, amid the multitudes, Chris felt very much alone.

Perhaps he should retreat to some secluded spot where he could find solitude, where he could sort things out. Maybe he could find some measure of peace, learn to live in this new world. But how could he go on, knowing what he now knew? Maybe he should go home, to his mother. Perhaps together they could figure out a way through this crisis.

Then again, he might take his petition to the very throne of God. He had spoken to Him many times before. If he appealed to God Himself, got down on his knees before the heavenly Father, perhaps something could be worked out. Surely the heavenly Father’s mercy knew no bounds. Maybe He could give Serena a second chance. She was a good woman, really she was. She simply hadn’t understood his message of salvation. Perhaps, that was why he had come to remember her. Maybe this was a test, to determine if he would turn to the Father in his moment of need.

Chris stopped in his tracks and looked toward the center of the city. Amid his wanderings, he still knew exactly where he was. It would not take long to reach the place where he could speak to God personally. What other solution was there? Yet a moment later he abandoned the thought. God would listen to him, of that much he was certain. He would comfort him. But how could He release Serena from the pit? She had her chance to accept Him, and she had chosen to reject His plan of salvation. She had rejected His son and His sacrifice. There could be no second chance, not now, not ever.

What was more likely to happen was that God would wipe his memory clean, remove the pain he now experienced. That would be an act of divine mercy toward him, but what about Serena? She would be forever forgotten. He could not allow that to happen to her, he just couldn’t. Someone had to remember her; someone had to grieve for her. To be suffering, yet forgotten, was too cruel a fate to contemplate. Serena was worth more than that, at least to him.

If only he could change what had happened. If only he could alter the chain of events that had separated him from the one he loved more than life itself. To live without Serena was terrible enough, but to live knowing of the dreadful place in which she would spend eternity was unbearable. If only he could be with his love one more time, see her as she appeared on Earth, before that terrible evening.

Chris moved on, prepared to continue his sojourn. A moment later he stopped dead in his tracks. Yes, he could do it, he knew how. His aimless wandering became a focused quest as he turned back toward the great Hall of Records. He would return to her book. It wasn’t just any book, was it? It was a doorway to the past. He could behold his love once more, be with her in the rock house, he could relive their best moments as often as he wanted. Heaven could offer him escape, offer it for all eternity if he so desired. It was a journey into fantasy, into the now dead past. Yet, fantasy was preferable to a world without her.

He walked quickly toward the place that would offer him escape. He had wandered a long way from the hall, but that was all right. So what if it took hours or even days to reach it. Did it really matter? After all, he had all eternity to spend there with the image of his beloved wife.

It was many hours before the great hall came into view. He quickened his pace and practically ran through the crystalline doorway, bounding up the stairway with a speed and agility that the best earthly athlete could not have matched. He was gripped by a sort of madness, born of the anticipation of seeing his love once again. What would it be like? Might he be able to interact with her in some way? His mother had spoken of the images in the book as shadows, but what if she was wrong? Perhaps the book was some kind of doorway into the past. Perhaps he could intervene. Could he possibly alter the past? And if he did, would that change the present? He would soon know.

He reached her book’s floor, then the proper shelf, scanning for the only part of her that remained. His eyes came to focus on the large black book with the golden letters on the spine. To him, it was the only book in the hall, the only book in all of creation. He reached out, caressing the name of his love. Then he looked around and saw there were no others nearby. He pulled the book from its resting place, and sat down on the floor. Slowly he opened the volume to the first page.

In the beginning, all he saw were letters and words, sentences and paragraphs describing the beginning of a new life. Then the words quickly dissolved into a vivid vision of a world long past, a vision of a young mother with a newborn baby girl in her arms. That baby was his Serena.

Chris was unprepared for the full reality of what he saw. Yes, he had witnessed it all before, when he and his mother had opened her book, yet this was somehow different, even more real. Perhaps it was because he held the book and turned the pages without assistance from another. Direct contact produced an even richer experience. Yet, another thought occurred to him. He had never done this before, not by himself. He had perused many of the books in the libraries of Heaven, and they worked in much the same way, but was it exactly the same?

Would he be able to control the process? Hadn’t his mother cautioned him about this? He hesitated. Perhaps he should pull out, ask for instructions before proceeding. No, there wasn’t time, and he didn’t want to answer any probing questions that might be raised. After all, who would want to explore the contents of one of the black books? In a realm of joy, who would knowingly seek out tragedy? He had to press on. He would accept the risk. He turned the page.

This experience was unlike viewing a motion picture on the silver screen in a darkened theater. No, this vision had the depth and even the smells and sensations of reality. Quite accidentally, he discovered that he had the ability to move through the vision, to view it from many different angles. He hadn’t tried that the last time he was here, and the books in the library didn’t allow the viewer that degree of freedom. He simply thought of where he wished to move, and in which direction he wished to look, and it was so.

His ability to move through the vision was not limited to three dimensions, but also included the dimension of time. He willed his hands to page forward. The vision faded to a soft blur, only to reshape itself once more. He saw Serena taken home from the hospital, saw her take her first step, speak her first words, it was incredible. He paged ever forward. A brightly-lit scene crystallized around him. He found himself on a playground, on a summer day, watching five-year-old Serena running and playing with her friends. She was so happy, vibrant, and alive. How could such a wonderful human being have been sentenced to outer darkness? It just didn’t make any sense. After watching their merriment for some time, he moved on in search of the adult Serena, the Serena that he so dearly loved.

Along the way, he stopped many times to gaze upon the beautiful growing child. In doing so, he witnessed the forces that would shape her destiny, the tragedies that brought the element of darkness and pain into her life. Chris had never met Serena’s mother. She had died of cancer two years before he and Serena had met. Yet he came to realize that she was at the very heart of the darkness that had engulfed Serena’s soul.

She was unpredictable, very unpredictable. She was fully capable of love and compassion one minute, only to become domineering and unyielding in the next. She made life in the Farnsworth family a continuing crisis. She was supposedly a counselor, one whose job it was to help people work through their personal problems, yet she seemed inept at dealing with her own mental issues. Chris recalled that Serena had spoken of those dark days, yet he was unprepared for the full reality, the totally dysfunctional family from which his love had emerged.

Serena’s stepfather, though a good and kind man, lacked the strength to control the ranting and raving of his domineering wife. Serena’s paternal grandmother had been the only truly stabilizing force within her life. She had been the lone guiding light to the impressionable youth. Irene Farnsworth had been a prayer warrior for her church, a woman of unwavering faith. Through her love, she did her best to lead the young and impressionable Serena in the ways of righteousness. But time worked against her as her health deteriorated. With her untimely passing, Serena’s life was heading for disaster. Serena’s strong will and stubbornness were carrying her and her mother into even greater conflict.

Again and again the two squared off, sometimes over the most trivial of issues. Just a few items out of place in Serena’s bedroom were enough to send her mother on a ballistic trajectory. At first Serena had tried to please her mother, yet there seemed to be no way to placate her anger. More than a few times, Bedillia Farnsworth had backhanded her young daughter in the midst of her ravings. She called Serena all manners of things, and as she did, Serena’s defiance grew.

Then came that fateful day—the day Serena responded to her years of mistreatment. In an argument over whom she could or could not associate with, she blocked her mother’s abusive arm with her hand. And before she knew what was happening, Bedillia found herself on the floor looking up. The 14-year-old Serena had thrown her mother forcefully to the ground.

Chris was amazed when he saw Serena apologizing and helping her mother to her feet. He was even more surprised when Bedillia accepted Serena’s help, and walked away rather than continue the altercation. Yet, no amount of reconciliation on Serena’s part could alter the course of events that followed—Bedillia’s mind was set on revenge, cold and calculated.

The extent of her revenge, and the means by which it was measured out, horrified Chris. Although he knew what was to come, because Serena had told him, he was not prepared to see it played out before him. The turn of a page brought an image of Serena and her mother traveling in the family car. It was to have been a trip to the mall to go shopping for some new clothes for Serena, a sort of peace offering between Bedillia and her daughter. They were going to stop on the way to see an old friend Bedillia knew from college. It was the perfect ploy to get Serena to the hospital—the perfect dumping ground where her rebellious daughter would be dealt with harshly.

Serena never realized what was happening, what sort of place it was. How could she? She believed that her mother wanted to iron things out between the two of them. Only now, as they stood in the admissions room, did it dawn on Serena what her mother had done. She had been betrayed. The only “new clothes” she was going to get that day was a hospital gown.

“Mom, you lied to me!” she screamed, as her mother signed the commitment papers.

“I fear that she is going to turn violent again,” replied her mother, looking to the doctor and a pair of male orderlies standing by a double door at the far side of the admission’s room. “She has done this before, countless times, and when she does, she is practically uncontrollable.”

She turned to Serena, who had suddenly turned very pale. “Honey, you’re going to need to stay here for a while. These people are going to help you to get better. And when you’re well again, you will be able to come home. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be for now.”

“What did you tell them?” gasped Serena. “You told them I’m crazy didn’t you?” Serena turned to the young doctor. She did her best to keep her cool. “Hey, I’m not crazy. Really, I’m not. My mother just wants to get rid of me, don’t you see that?”

“Serena, no one is saying that you’re crazy,” assured the doctor, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “But there is something wrong. We’re just going to see if we can find out what it is. I promise; no one here is going to hurt you.”

“You don’t believe me,” replied Serena, her tone somewhat more agitated. She pointed to her mother. “She’s the one who’s crazy!”

“You don’t mean that,” said the doctor, glancing toward the orderlies who were already approaching the distraught girl.

Serena hadn’t noticed until one grasped her by the arm.

“Keep your hands off me, I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said, trying to squirm from the powerful man’s grasp.

But it was far too late as the two orderlies restrained the distraught youth. The series of events set into motion were already unalterable.

“Mommy, please,” she cried, “don’t let them take me! I wanna go home! I’ll be good, I promise! Please!”

The reality of the vision overwhelmed Chris. “Leave her alone!” he cried, as he moved toward one of the orderlies—his hand passed through the large man like a phantasm. Despite the seeming reality of this scene, it was but an image of the past and there would be no altering the course of time.

Chris could bear to watch this tragedy no longer. He moved further into the future, beyond Serena’s months in the mental hospital, only to see a quiet and depressed young woman, the product of her mother’s vengeance, sitting alone in her room, typing on her computer. He could sense the vast loneliness that she felt, the loneliness that had led her to desperate acts.