The Heavenly Heart (26 page)

I’m pretty sure
this
isn’t something I want to know. It gives me the shivers when I try to remember.

“But this is only what
could
have happened,” Pete assures me. “I think it’s important. Will you trust me?”

His beautiful eyes, still larger than lakes, look into mine with so much love, how can I refuse?

“Alright,” I say, hesitantly. “I’ll try.”

“Let’s go,” Pete says and jumps into the Silver Lining. He extends his hand to help me onto the pillow and we’re off.

The night’s black as tar. The moon’s nowhere in sight. The temperature’s dropped to at least fifty degrees. We’re headed to my house. My mother’s Land Rover is parked in the portico around back. Only one light remains lit. It’s the lamp by her night stand. That means she’s still up. Pete and I hover in the dark above the house and wait until she snaps it off.

“Look,” he says softly and points to the portico.

I see a shadow approach the portico and climb into the Land Rover. The engines starts, but the lights on the vehicle are still turned off.  The rover inches forward, makes it’s way around the house to the circular driveway and pulls out onto the street. Once there, the lights are switched on. It’s quite clear who’s in the driver’s seat hunched over the wheel. It’s me. Instantly, I remember Carla on the Step of Acceptance snooping through my memory trees and pointing out that I’m driving a Land Rover. “Oh no!” she said. “You’re about to—” and she placed her hand over her mouth.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Pete said this is the night that I arrived on Heaven’s doorstep. But this is the Silver Lining. This is what would have happened if I hadn’t showed up. But I did! So why am I so scared to see what would have happened if I hadn’t? What could have been worse than having my life end?

 Pete takes my arm and guides me forward. We’re following the Land Rover. I have the CD player going full blast. My favorite song is playing by Avril Lavigne:
Girlfriend
. I’m pounding the steering wheel keeping time with the music. And I’m driving way too fast. I’m on my way to pick up Paige and Annalise. I’m sixteen years old without a care in the world. I think I will live forever. I have no fear. My foot leans even harder on the gas pedal. I’m going eighty. The road is narrow and dark. The music builds to a crescendo. I’m delirious. The music sends me into orbit. Now I’m doing ninety. There’s no reason for me to be driving this fast. It’s not even eleven o’clock. I’ve got plenty of time with minutes to spare. But do I slow down? No—I do not.

 I’m a fool.

*        *         *.

By some miracle I have made it safely to Paige’s house and we’re now on our way to pick up Annalise.

“Take the shortcut,” Paige says.

I meander through the dark streets and expertly make my way to County Line Road. Pagie changes the CD in the player and puts on Fergie’s
Big Girls Don’t Cry.
Once I pick up Annalise we will head to the skating rink. It’s Friday evening. There will be lots of boys there. We’re wearing t-shirts, jeans and flip-flops with lots of eye-make up and tons of mascara.

The shortcut to Annalise’s will take us past the public high school and the old cotton mill next to the train tracks. The cotton mill has long been abandoned, but the tracks still are used by Amtrak as well as to carry freight to and from Macon and Atlanta. There are no flashing lights or gates. The road itself has very little traffic and it’s rarely used. Since no one comes here, the police don’t either. It’s a safer route to Annalise’s than the main thoroughfare.

The Land Rover’s racing along the gravel roads. The windows are vibrating with the music. Paige and I sing along at the top of our lungs. We’re having a grand old time.

“Roll the window down,” she says. “I want to throw out my gum.

I still haven’t figured out how to turn off the child safety feature, but it’s no big deal.

“Just a minute. Let me find which one controls your window.” I fiddle with the control on the door panel. I find the right one and roll down her window. Paige tosses her gum out. I roll the window back up. What a nuisance.

The music’s still blaring. We’re in heaven. We’re rocking and rolling to the beat of the music.

“Turn it down,” Paige says. “We’re almost there.”

I turn down the volume on the CD, switch off the lights to the Land Rover, and park the vehicle in front of the gates to Analise’s house. Paige climbs out and waits for Annalise to emerge from the dark. It’s ten minutes to midnight. Annalise steps out of the darkness and climbs over the fence. Her sweatshirt catches on one of the posts. She unzips it and leaves it hanging. Paige jumps up and frees it. There’s now a large hole in the sleeve. Annalise rolls it up into a ball and tosses it into her purse.

“Let’s go,” she whispers, like anyone could possibly hear us this far away from her house.

I turn the lights back on the Land Rover and tell everyone to buckle up.

“Take the shortcut back,” Paige points out—which is what I planned to do all along. We head back towards the train tracks. The door locks automatically lock into place as I put the vehicle in gear and drive off as quietly as I can. We’re off. Paige cranks up the volume on the CD player. Soon I’m lost in the music, cruising down the road at a reasonable seventy miles an hour. The Rover can easily do a hundred and twenty, so I tell myself seventy is a safe speed. I sail over the train track without slowing down. Something catches underneath of the rover. It comes to a screeching halt and sends Paige flying into the windshield. She didn’t buckle up, but I never heard the bell telling me she hadn’t—the music drowned it out.

“Oh my God!” she screams. I turn to see if her head is bleeding. That’s when I see the train. It’s heading toward the passenger side doors. It’s approaching at a good rate of speed, but there’s still time for us to get out. The Land Rover’s hopelessly stuck on the tracks. I gun the engine but it doesn’t budge.

“Get out!” I scream. “Get out! Now! Right now”! I yell and go flying out the driver-side door. I throw myself into the ditch at the side of the train tracks, scramble to my feet, and run as fast as I can to get away from the tracks. I look back into the darkness and wait for Paige and Annalise to catch up to me. I’m screaming and crying and rubbing at the gravel stuck to my palms. The train hits the Land Rover. The noise is hard to describe. It sounds like the whole earth just hit a brick wall.

EIGHTY-FIVE

The Golden Window

I’m freaking out. Pete’s trying to comfort me. It’s not doing much good.

“Why did you show me that?” I scream. “Why?”

“I’m sorry, Lorelei,” he says. “I want you to let go of all that’s below. I thought this might help you to do that. Your real rewards are waiting. Incredible, wonderful, magical things await you!”

I don’t want to let go,” I say. I’m sobbing. “I want to go back—I want—I want to start over.” I stop and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. I’m crying so hard I’ve got the hiccups. “I—hic—want everything—hic—to be like it was.”

“Oh Lorelei,” Pete says and wraps his arms around me. “Everything changes. Nothing really ever stays the same.”

He sits me down in the Golden Window and takes a seat beside me. He whips out a handkerchief and tries to dry my eyes. It’s pathetic. I’m crying so hard I can’t see.

“When you arrived, your father was doing well and recovering from his heart transplant, and now he’s—” Pete points to the purple and golden mist.

“Now he’s here,” I say, nodding my head.

“Your mother is in a relationship with Mr. Warren, who you tell me you like very much.”

“I do, but—”

“The point is Lorelei, everything changes in time. It’s part of life. Going back will not stop things from changing. Life is never static.”

Pete’s words are simple, but they’re powerful. All this time I’ve wanted to go back to my life just the way it was. But that life no longer is there. Pete’s right. Nothing can ever be the way it was.  I’ve been hanging onto the old when it’s already turned into something new. There’s no going back. I know that now. But I still want to go back! I wrap my arms around my waist and cry harder. I want my mother. I want to hug her. I want to feel her arms around me, to tell her how much I miss her. I want to see Onetta.  I want to visit with Paige and Annalise and tell them how happy I am that they’re alive and well and growing up—that I miss them every day. And all this wanting is making me miserable. I’m stuck in the past. Pete’s right. I need to move on. I’ll never be happy sitting and wishing for things that can’t be. I need to go forward. And I will. But not yet; There’s still some things I need to take care of.

EIGHTY-SIX

The Golden Window

I’m on my knees in the Golden Window praising God that the Silver Lining is the
what if
and not the
what is
.

Paige and Annalise didn’t make it out of the Land Rover! The doors were locked with the child security locks. When I yelled for them to get out, I forgot their doors were locked. And I forgot I needed to unlock them. I panicked and jumped out! And they were trapped. The train hit the Rover and they were still in it. The force of the impact sent the train careening off the track onto a parallel track. It hit an oncoming Amtrak passenger train. It hit the
Crescent
making its way to Atlanta from New Orleans on a midnight run to Philadelphia, filled with people making their way there and then onto Atlantic City.

 All the events I watched unfold in the Silver Lining—Annalise and Paige crushed beyond recognition, the passengers in the train, many dead, others burned or disfigured—are events that would’ve happened if I’d survived. But I didn’t survive! So this night never happened. But I’m here, so I know something else did. I’ll figure that out later. Right now, I’m satisfied knowing that Paige and Annalise weren’t hit by that train.

But, I have a feeling I was.

*         *         *

You will not believe who is here to see me! Carla and Miss Lily.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. It’s midnight and this part of heaven is fast asleep. Carla completely ignores my question.

“You’ve got to see what’s up there, Lorelei,” Carla says, pointing to the gold and purple mist, which now looks like a black cloud, actually.

“Every day’s like heaven!” she says.

“It
is
heaven, silly! Of course I believe.” I throw my arms around her and hug her tight. I’m so happy to see her. I want to tell her what I saw in the Silver Lining. It still makes me shake when I think of it.

“No, but listen to this—” Carla says, all excited. Then she sees the look on my face which is equal to the look a person would have on their face if they’d witnessed Hiroshima.

“
Ohmygoodness
,” Carla says, “What is it, Lorelei. You look awful!”

 “I—I—have to tell you something,” I blurt out. “It’s so awful, it’s just the worst thing that could ever have happened that didn’t happen.”

“Huh?” Carla says, helping Miss Lily up into the Golden Window. Carla climbs in after her. We three are lined up and swallowed by the pillow like baby chicks.

 “And Miss Lily—what are you doing here?” I say.

“Aren’t you happy to see me, dear?” she says.

“Of course, I am, it’s just that I thought it was against the rules,” I whisper.

“Huh! When did I ever follow rules?” Carla says and laughs.

“And now you have Miss Lily breaking them, too.”

I fluff the pillows near me and motion for them to get comfy.

“I want to tell you something—”

“But we came here to tell you something—”

“Carla, listen to what I almost did,” I say. I grab hold of her hand and squeeze it tight. I’m anxious for her to share in my pain. It’s all still so real that I’m having trouble getting the images out of my mind. I take a deep sigh and lay back on my pillow.

“Alright, tell me what you almost did,” Carla says.

I tell explain about the train and what could have happened. It brings it all back. Now I’m crying again. So silly—I mean it really never happened. Carla just sits there with a blank look on her face. Miss Lily’s turns itself on like a light bulb.

“You say you had a train wreck, my dear?” she says “That sounds so very familiar—Amtrak, you say, from New Orleans to Atlanta?”

I nod my head like it’s designed to only work in slow motion.

“Oh dear,” Miss Lily says, “I knew I’d seen you near the end,” she adds “Such a shame, all those people—”

Now Miss Lily’s crying. And I’m crying harder than I ever did during all the years I lived on the earth.

All those people
—

EIGHTY-SEVEN

The Golden Window

“But Lorelei,” Carla is saying. “It didn’t happen that way!”

“I know,” I say. “It’s just so real. And Miss Lily,
whatever
it is I did, I think it may have brought you here,” I lament.

“And I can’t thank you enough,” she says. “Mr. Mann was on his way to gamble in Atlantic City once again. And all those shows—most unpleasant,” she adds. “And now I have my children with me every day!”

“That’s what we came to tell you,” Carla says jumping up and down.

“That Miss Lily is with her children every day?” I say, which makes me very happy, but still it’s a strange reason to break the rules and visit me.

“No—no—no. Not just that—listen—the Window of Dreams is God’s camera!” Carla says.

“Say what?” I say, not understanding.

“It’s his
camera
. He takes pictures of everything you dream of in the Window of Dreams and then presents it to you up there for real.” Carla points to the silver and gold mist. “So you need to dream away about Garrett, because once you’re there all your dreams come true for real! Is that too cool or what?”

I’m still too shaken up to let the magnitude of what she’s trying to tell me hit home. Whatever happened in the Silver Lining wasn’t real but what happened in the Golden Window is. It ended Miss Lilly’s life. And it ended so many others. I need to face that night.