All the Little Children Need to Come Home

Chapter Six Stories, Stories

"What did I do wrong? "

"You visited your loved ones. You can't do that so soon."

"You're actually going to give me a strike? Isn't this Heaven?"

The Scribe stood there, touching the white feather pen over and over against his lips.

"No, silly, it's Iowa." He quipped. "Of course it's Heaven. It would be a totally different experience if it were somewhere else..." He leaned closer to add," ...if Ya know what I mean."

"How come we get strikes?"

Todd was totally confused. How can such a wonderful place like Heaven be giving out strikes when one doesn't even know "the rules?" How can Heaven give out strikes and for what exactly?

The Scribe rolled his eyes and dropped the book to his side.

"I'm kidding! There's no crying in baseball and there are no strikes in Heaven! Geez..." His smile softened the words he spoke. "You are a bit naïve." He squinted an eye. "Smart, talented and funny, but..."

The Scribe hefted the book into his arms and started skimming through pages, making clicking sounds with his tongue.

"Ah, here you are." He started reading quickly down the page, every now and then making small noises of approval as he read over Todd's life.

"Hmmm, you've been a good kid all your life it seems...except," he glanced over his reading glasses at Todd. "Except for the DUIs. What were you thinking?"

Todd made a sound." Not much. Thought I could drive."

The Scribe tried to feign scorn, but he said, "Yeah, right. That's what they all say."

"Look, you're a good kid," he continued. "Seems to me like you had a good life and that everything that happened was maybe because of bad choices."

Todd nodded.

"Yeah, I know," The Scribe said, with regret. "You were on so much medication from that doctor you were seeing that you actually thought you were okay to drive."

The Scribe closed the book, flipping down the corner of the page to easily find it again

"You remember when you called your mom to come up to the bar and sing karaoke with you that night?" Todd nodded. "She really wanted to join you that night. She even took a shower to see if she could get energized since they just got back into town. Remember what she asked you?"

Todd nodded, trying to pay attention. "Yeah, she asked me if I had been drinking....and I said no. I just felt really happy."

Todd prepared himself for the lecture he assumed would come, but The Scribe only looked him straight in the eyes.

"She was so thankful you were happy, and she believed that you weren't drinking. She thought you would be okay. That's why she didn't come. She thought you were finally happy. She wanted to give you your space to be happy."

"I lied to her," Todd admitted, sadly.

"oh, yeah yeah, that. Don't worry. She wasn't mad at you. But after your accident, she felt so guilty that she had believed you. She felt if she had come up there and sung Karaoke with you, that you would have made it home safely. She felt your accident was her fault."

"I know. She apologized for that."

"I want to tell you that everything happened the way it should. If she had come up to the bar that night and drove you home, another car would have gone over the middle lane and head right into your car. That driver would have died, and both you and your mom would have been seriously hurt. You would survive." With a kindness in both his eyes and voice, The Scribe continued gently. "But your mom would have died."