Todd watched the events unfold below. He was alone, now. He looked around watching little ones drifting softly among the clouds, the soft swirls snuggling around them. The clouds slowly parted and he saw Grandpa Carl standing on a carpet of lush green grass, playing catch with a group of little ones. Music and laughter filled the air and he glanced past his grandfather to see countless forms dotted on billowing waves of clouds. He watched while the clouds drifted apart, and he could see two wooden structures, high on stilts, neon lights flashing 'Come join us!' People were standing and talking to each other. There were balloons and streamers and the bass of the music thumped all around. This was a celebration.
Todd turned around and saw another structure made of golden timber. The blue peak of the roof slanted down to meet the sides of the building and one tall and tall window flanked the front that faced the ocean clouds. The house was quiet, standing alone below tendrils of green branches that embraced the top of the cabin.
He was suddenly aware that everything had stopped. Silence.
Todd looked back down the hill. Grandpa Carl and everyone else had stopped and were looking outwards towards a wave of clouds that crested gently downward. The people in both houses below him were facing towards the horizon.
Clouds rolled into a wave which slowly parted and a myriad of colors gradually crept up and spread across the sky, splintering ribbons throughout the sky. First red, then orange then yellow and suddenly the sky filled with a variety of glorious hues from an unseen palette which stretched upward and sideways, blinding everyone with its brilliance.
It was the sunrise. It was a brand new day.
"Toddo!"
Todd looked at his Grandpa, and quickly caught the ball he tossed in his left hand.
"There's nothing like that!" his grandfather said.
Todd nodded and lobbed the ball back to his grandfather.
Time was elusive and the only way Todd could tell as each day passed was to see the bright colorful trees surrounding his home become bright against the backdrop of the sky. The Japanese maple that stood right next to the front steps was in full crimson feathers.
Everything seemed so surreal. He felt fine. He felt alive. He still felt that somehow this was all a dream.
He still missed his family. He still missed life.
Suddenly a thought came to him. He remembered Grandpa Carl saying that one day he would learn how to help the ones he loved. He closed his eyes and concentrated, willing himself to be back on Earth. He wasn't sure how any of this worked, but he would try.
When he opened his eyes, he was in his parents' room. His father was snoring in peaceful slumber. His mother was curled up, facing him, holding the pillow he had given her last year.
She mumbled something in her sleep and her hand reached out towards him. Tissues sprawled along the carpet, and he bent down to reach for her hand.
He felt the warmth of her hand, and a tear began to fall from her closed eyes.
"I miss you so much, Todd," she whispered.
In that instant, he was yanked back up into heaven. It happened so quickly, that it took a few moments for his thinking to catch. He sensed a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see The Scribe, the man who welcomed everyone into Heaven.
"Oh, that's a big No-No," the Scribe said, and opened his huge white book, pretending to write something down. "That's one strike against you." He held back a little smile as he tried to frown.
"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."
Todd looked at The Scribe, speechless. Tears gently tugged in his eyes.
The Scribe rested the book against his chest. "If she had joined you, by the time you decided to leave, that other driver was already on Old Bridge Road. You would have collided. It would have changed everything, so many lives. EVERYTHING."
"Because of your accident, that driver saw the police cars and rescue squads and pulled off a side street to sleep it off. Two lives were saved because your mom stayed home. Look at you. It wasn't your time either. I mean, it could have been, but for the prayers and your little "white lie."
Todd lowered his head, taking in all that was spoken.smiled with a shake of his head.
"She's a good one, that mother of yours." The Scribe nudged him, gently.
"Yeah, I know." Tears began to swell in his eyes, but no tears fell.
"Too bad I'm up here and she's down there..." he said with a sly grin. "Look, I'm kidding! Todd, lighten up a bit. This is Heaven. We like to have fun. Some of us have more fun up here than we ever did down there."
Todd sat on a wall of clouds, his elbows resting on his knees, watching the world below begin a new day. He looked at the outstretched hand of the older gentleman.
"Here's the deal. I'm Scribs, short for The Scribe." His eyes sparkled as he spoke. "I keep track of everyone who comes up here. Many stay and become Elders. They escort the Newbies up here. They make sure no one feels pain."
He glanced over at Todd, raising his eyebrows. "You didn't feel any pain, did you?"
"No," Todd spoke slowly. "I think I just fell asleep."
"Good. That's the way it's supposed to be. Most of the children up here have come to us through circumstances that could not be stopped. They experienced joy and love until the moment they came up here. They left behind families that will always miss them."
Todd watched as Sribs removed his glasses and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.
"Not all the children are lucky. Some of them had truly bad situations on earth. Humans with free will...."
Todd glanced at The scribe, and felt a gentle breeze as billowy beds with waking angels floated around.
"How are you doing? Feeling okay about all of this?"
Todd shrugged and smiled, sadly. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"
He watched Scribs lean on the wall by his side, shaking his head, watching the world below.
"Good. You have a job to do. Your heart was failing, and it was only a matter of time. There are many children who are here only because those who called themselves "parents" or "caregivers" weren't that at all. Your job is to show all these little ones your family. Show them your brother, your friends, their families. Show them that not all parents are bad. They need to see that most parents, like your mom and dad, would do anything to protect their children. Anything."
Todd watched as Scribs pointed a silver remote control at the sky. A large theatre screen blanketed the sky. Figures flashed on the screen. Todd recognized the scene immediately.
It was during the summer of his junior year in high school and the temperature was well over one hundred degrees. Todd had overheated while pitching and was throwing up blood in the dugout. Someone yelled to his mom and she went into the dugout. She soaked a towel with cool water and placed it on the back of his neck. In a flurry, she ran up the gravel hill to get her car. Within moments, her brand new Mercedes came down to the ballfield and someone helped Todd into the air-conditioned car. She had called 911 and they had told her she could get him to the hospital and into a cooled environment before the rescue squad could reach the field. Not once had she worried about her car. Her only instinct was to get him cooled off. She had called ahead to the emergency room and they were waiting for him when she pulled up. She stayed by his side the entire time. Not once had she thought about the damage to her new car. Other scenes flashed overhead. Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays, regular days. Todd watched as his family had gathered to celebrate with friends and other family members.
"Look," The Scribe said, indicating all around them. A group of little children, still sleepy from their rest, were beginning to gather around them, watching the sky screen in awe as they saw something few had seen in their time on earth. They saw happy families.
"You can help them heal. It will help you accept as well. You had an amazing life, Todd. Tell them about it. Show them that parents can be good people. Give them hope. There's especially Haley, who came the same day you did. She's been sad and troubled because she can't understand why her stepmom would hurt her so much, but even worse, why her daddy didn't help her at all. She has no closure. They haven't found her body. Not yet, maybe not ever."
As Todd looked around at all the little children, he felt a little hand slip into his. He looked down at Haley, whose eyes were sparkling with happiness. She leaned her head against his arm and started humming.
" I love you, Todd," she said with the absolute truth of a child so young.
The Scribe cleared his throat, blinking back his emotions.
"You will have your grandpa Carl, your Meme and many others who will help you along the way. In time, you will be able to visit earth. Your mom feels you every day. You can let her know from here that you are all right."
"What do I tell them?"
"Anything and everything. Even the times when you got in trouble. They need to see that parents can discipline without hitting. Parents can love without hurting. "
With a sigh, The Scribe turned to walk away, the book under his arm, feather pen stuck behind his ear. As he went by, he gently ruffled Haley's curls and she giggled.
"Don't worry about your dad, either. He needs to work through things in his own time. The drink is the only way he knows how to deal with you right now. Give him time. He'll get it. Most usually do. In the meantime," Todd heard his voice echo." Pray for your dad. It's always a good time to pray."