The Heavenly Heart (27 page)

EIGHTY EIGHT

The Golden Window

I’m in Texas to see Mona. I’m convinced I need to face up to whatever it is that I’ve done to get here. But first I want to visit all the people that I’ve come to love. Mona’s doing pretty good considering her divorce is under way. The judge ordered her husband to pay all the bills.

“How do you suppose your wife is to survive? She’s just had a kidney transplant. Did you think of that?” he says.

Robert, Mona’s husband’s trying to answer, but the judge won’t give him a word in edgewise and frankly, I’m glad. A man that will leave a woman with three children after what’s she’s been through and then leave her for another man is too much. I mean, why did he even bother getting married in the first place? Why didn’t he just come out of the closet years ago? And then I realize the error in my thinking. Bobby, Jr. and Allison and Bradley would not be here if he’d done that! So now I am thankful that he tried to live a straight life. I guess jumping to conclusions and judging what other people should or shouldn’t do isn’t such a good idea.

“You will take care of
all
your family’s expenses,” the Judge explains, “and if you need further funds to support yourself on, I suggest you get a second job.”

Court is over for the day. Robert leaves with Elton, his new partner. I’m not worried about Robert. Elton has a lot of money—he’s president of a large bank. . He’ll make certain Robert’s well taken care of.  Elton’s pretty nice looking and you’d never know he was gay to look at him. Maybe if I heard him speak, but he hasn’t said one word the whole time he’s been here.

I follow Mona home.

“Is Daddy coming back?” Allison says.

“I’m afraid not, honey,” Mona says.

“Does he like Uncle Elton better than us?” Allison says and wraps herself around Mona’s legs.

“I don’t know about that,” Mona says and gently lifts her into her arms. “But I know he likes him very much.

Allison starts to sob. Mona carries her into the kitchen. Rita’s there, feeding Bradley supper. Andy’s climbing under the table pretending it’s a fort. Bobby, Jr. is watching television. He’s being very quiet. I think what’s going on in their family is affecting him very deeply, and hope Mona will notice and take charge of the situation. Get him some counseling or something. There’s this look on his face that says there is no look on his face. It’s like a blank sheet of paper, which probably means he’s burying all of his emotions. Not good. Surely Mona will notice. Or Rita will. Or maybe a teacher will and they’ll point it out to her and make things different for him; show him how to get his emotions out and learn to accept the situation for what it is. Things change. We have to adjust or end up miserable; caught in a web of regret and remorse; lose our happiness in the process.

Then I realize Bobby’s exactly where I’ve been all these months. Caught up in regret and remorse; unwilling to take happiness by the hand. I mean, it’s knocking at the door—hello!

“Thank you, Bobby,” I whisper.

“I hope you find a bunch of happiness no matter what’s going on around you. And I hope you grab it and never let it go. And nobody will ever be able to take it away even if they used a crowbar.”

EIGHTY-NINE

The Golden Window

I’m checking on Kirsten and Ron in Cape Canaveral. They’re sailing! Dr. Riley’s very accomplished in this sport—is it a sport?—but Kirsten’s a novice. But he’s teaching her and she’s doing pretty good, and she looks really great in her white deck pants and navy blue and white striped turtleneck. They’re headed down the Abacos to the Bahamas, which has me a little worried no matter how good a sailor he is. The Coast Guard just rescued some people on a boat fifty miles from Cape Canaveral after Tropical Depression Ernesto set in. They sent a helicopter and an airplane, and it was the guy in the airplane who found them. But not until a day after they radioed for help—a man and a woman. The helicopter hoisted them up from their sailboat and flew them to the airport in Melbourne, and then they transferred them to the Coast Guard Station at Port Canaveral and all their family members got there to see them and naturally they were very relieved and they put these nice pictures of them hugging in the paper and everything. And then everybody stayed till the storm passed. This couple that got rescued was sailing their vessel from Port Canaveral to Abacos, Bahamas, too. And these two other boats, the
Seagar
and the
Crystal Glenn Shawnie
made it back to Cape Canaveral on their own, but it wasn’t easy and now hurricane season’s here again, so I’m not sure why Kirsten would even consider sailing at this time of year, but then love does strange things to people. But that’s why I’m worried.

Kirsten and Dr. Ron leave Cocao after this pea-soup fog lifts and head to the Cape Canaveral barge canal. The early afternoon brings some good sailing weather. The wind vane works real good, and Ron says they’re on course. But then the wind peters out. Ron kicks in what he calls the “iron staysail” It’s an engine. Once it’s dark, they motor sail at a good easy clip.  After a scary passage over the bar from offshore in the dark, they make it safely to anchorage at Walker’s Cay. According to Dr. Ron, getting out of Walker’s Cay will be a bit tricky. Apparently, “Bahamas” is Spanish meaning “shallow”! This doctor must like living on the edge.

But, if all goes well they’ll be in Green Turtle Cay tomorrow afternoon.

“You’ll love New Plymouth,” Ron says, as Kirsten nods. “It’s a good size town, plenty of amenities.”

Kirsten’s nods her head eagerly. She must be looking forward to some civilization once again. From there Ron says they’ll work their way down to Exumas and Bell Island, which is their final destination. It’ll take a week and a half, depending on the sailing conditions, maybe two.

“But who’s counting?” Ron says.

Me—for one! I won’t have any nails left. There are sharks out there, too. Kirsten just nods and smiles. I told you love does strange things.

*         *         *

Ron and Kirsten are in Marsh Harbour, Abaco, after spending two days at Green Turtle Cay. There’s no sailing for the moment.

“Wind dead on the nose!” Ron explains.

The rent a golf cart and go into New Plymouth. The town was incorporated in 1815 by American loyalists. There’s a nice old-fashioned sign that explains it all if you want to take the time to read it. It’s kind of long. When the wind picks up, they head South across the Northeast Providence Channel to Eleuthera, Exuma Sound, and then finally on to Bell Island in Exumas.

Here they rest for two days in the lee of Elbow Cay waiting for some good weather so they can get over to the Exumas. The morning wind’s coming from the South—that’s the direction they want to go—and it’s blowing really hard, so they’re stuck where they’re at. Then a cold front comes through and brings enough rain to make a tsunami. It washes the salt off the boat which makes Ron quite happy. They take advantage of it by taking showers on the deck. Then Ron collects about five gallons of water for the tanks. Their water-maker works well, but Ron says, “Until I come up with an alternate energy source, let’s be stingy with the power.”

They eat their dinner by candlelight—that’s real nice. Kirsten’s getting a beautiful tan and her black hair has all these sun streaks in it. She’s more beautiful than ever, but maybe love can do that all by its self. They make a really good-looking couple. Ron’s about six feet tall. He’s got dark-hair, but not as dark as Kirsten’s, and blue eyes. He’s kind of rugged looking, and he’s got a strong sailor’s body. He could be on the front of a sailing magazine, easy. If I had to describe him in one word it would have to be:
dreamy
. And if I had to use two:
absolutely dreamy
.

Kirsten and Ron leave Elbow Cay in the morning. The wind’s still blowing hard and it’s foggy. To get out into the ocean they have to go through Tiloo Cut and Ron says it’ll be tricky business coming onshore. But, Ron’s a mighty good sailor and gets them there without any trouble. They try to find anchorages in Hope Town and and then Man ‘O War Cay, but they’re both very popular places. There’s no room.

“Dang,” Ron says. “Wanted to show you Man’O War—it’s the boatbuilding center of the Bahamas.”

Kirsten doesn’t look at all disappointed. She’s catching up on her reading and snoozing. Ron anchors off Hope Town Marina for a couple of days and restocks the boat. The best part of their stay is climbing up to the Hope Town Lighthouse. It was built in 1868, and the light itself was made in the nineteenth century. The most fascinating thing about it is that it’s one of only three lights in the world that still runs on kerosene. The lens is about eight feet in diameter and weighs like four-thousand pounds! It floats on a pool of mercury and turns when this weight falls slowly through the center of the lighthouse. It looks like a tower clock. The lighthouse guide explains that it runs on pressurized kerosene vapor, like Coleman lanterns.  It can be seen for over seventeen miles. Pretty awesome; Kirsten looks impressed. After Hope Town, they sail on and anchor for a few days at Royal Island, near Eleuthera. It’s one of the best natural harbors in the Bahamas. Ron says it was some kind of palatial estate before World War II. Now it’s in ruins, but it’s still cool to look at, all these old buildings made out of stucco.

Ron and Kirsten are lying on the beach by candlelight and nibbling on lobster and shrimp they cooked in this pit. When they finish eating, Ron kneels down beside Kirsten and takes her plate. He washes the dishes and the utensils in some water he put in a sandy hole a few yards away. Kirsten lies back on the blanket and looks at the sky, which is perfect for this kind of night. I swear it’s peppered with all of the stars that have ever been made. Ron’s finished with the dishes. He lies down beside her and slides his fingers into hers and nuzzles her cheek with his nose.

“Did you enjoy your dinner, Mrs. Riley?” he says.

Ohmidgosh
! They’re married! And this is their honeymoon and I never even knew! The must have gotten married before they ever set sail. This is so romantic. And to think, I’m part of it. I mean it’s
my
kidney that has made all of this possible. I’m tap-dancing on the clouds and managing to make noise! My father was right. Kirsten’s going to be fine.

NINETY

The Golden Window

I’ve said good-bye to Mona and Kirsten. I can’t say goodbye to Garrett and my father. They’re already here, waiting for me to join them above—probably having the time of their heavenly lives. I thought about checking in on Mr. Powell to see if he’s making better use of my corneas, but decided not to, in case he isn’t and it’d be so depressing. I’ve decided before I face my greatest fear, I’m going to visit the Memorial Garden up-close and personal. This is the memory garden in Richmond that Mona and Rita took the children to. My name’s engraved there in the Garden of Sorrow and Joy. It’s right next to all the other donors and recipients. I’m hoping it’ll help me let go. I’ll see all the good that’s come out of my death.

But first I’ve got to see how Clarence and Onetta and my mother are doing.  And I need to say goodbye to Christopher and let him know he’ll be alright.

*     *     *

Miracles of miracles—Clarence’s having a spiritual awaking. It’s happening during an AA meeting. They’re reading from the Big Book. This is not the Bible. It’s the AA bible. The speaker is reading this long passage:

We hope we have made clear the distinction between the alcoholic and the non-alcoholic. If, when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking you have little control over the amount you take, you are probably alcoholic. If that be the case, you may be suffering from an illness which only a spiritual experience will conquer. To one who feels he is an atheist or agnostic such an experience seems impossible, but to continue as he is means disaster, especially if he is an alcoholic of the hopeless variety. To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live on a spiritual basis are not always easy alternatives to face, But it isn’t so difficult. About half our original fellowship were of exactly that type. At first some of us tried to avoid the issue, hoping against hope we were not true alcoholics. But after awhile we had to face the fact that we must find a spiritual basis of life—or else. Perhaps it is going to be that way with you. But cheer up, something like half of us thought we were atheists or agnostics. Our experience shows that you need not be disconcerted. If a mere code of morals or a better philosophy of life were sufficient to overcome alcoholism, many of us would have recovered long ago. But we found that such codes and philosophies did not save us, no matter how much we tried. We could wish to be moral, we could will these things with all or might, but the needed power wasn’t there. Our human resources, as marshaled by the will, were not sufficient; they failed utterly. Lack of power; that was our dilemma. We had to find a power by which we could live, and it had to be a power greater than ourselves. But where and how were we to find this Power? Well, that’s exactly what this book is about. Its main object is to enable you to find a Power greater than yourself which will solve your problem.

The speaker talks about this drunk who found the courage to take life one step at a time. He turned his life over to a higher power and this power did for him what he couldn’t do for himself.  When the speaker sits down, Clarence pops up like a Jack-in-the-box.

“My name’s Clarence and I’m a drunk!” he says.

That in itself is not so amazing. I mean he’s just standing there and speaking the truth. But what happens next is totally awe inspiring.

“I want a higher power! I want to be clean and sober.”

And then Clarence starts crying like a baby. He’s choking on his sobs. Rudy places an arm around his shoulder.

“We’re here for you Clarence,” Rudy says, and the group gathers all around him.

“One day at a time,” one older man says and pats Clarence on the back.