Halo

23 R.I.P

According to the belief system of most humans, there are only two dimensions, the dimension of the living and that of the dead. But what they don’t realize is that there are many more. Every day people on earth exist parallel to other beings; close enough to touch but invisible to the untrained eye. Some are called the Rainbow People, immortals who can travel between worlds and are made up of nothing but wisdom and understanding. People catch glimpses of them sometimes, shooting between realms. They appear as a streak of glittering white-gold light or the faint glow of a rainbow hanging in the air. Most humans think they’re witnessing a trick of the light. Only very few can sense a divine presence. I liked to think Xavier was one of those few.

I found Xavier in the cafeteria, slid in beside him, and nibbled from the container of nachos he offered me. When he shifted position in his chair, his thigh brushed against mine and sent a tingling heat through my body. I couldn’t enjoy it for long as the sound of raised voices reached us from the counter. Two boys in their early teens were arguing over their place in line.

“Man, you just pushed in front of me!”

“Whatever, I’ve been here the whole time.”

“That’s bull! Ask anyone!”

With no teacher in sight, their disagreement escalated to the point of shoving and name calling. Some junior girls just behind them started to look worried when one of the boys seized the other in a headlock.

Xavier sprang to his feet to intervene but sat down again when someone beat him to it. It was Lachlan Merton, a boy with bleached blond hair who was permanently plugged into his iPod and hadn’t handed in a single homework assignment all year. He was usually impervious to everything going on around him. Now he was pushing his way between the two boys and hauling them off each other. We couldn’t hear what he said, but the boys reluctantly parted and even complied with his directive to shake hands.

Xavier and I exchanged looks. “Lachlan Merton behaving responsibly — now that’s a first,” remarked Xavier.

It occurred to me that what we’d witnessed was a prime example of the subtle shift in thinking at Bryce Hamilton. I immediately thought of how pleased Ivy and Gabriel would be to hear their efforts were paying off. Of course there were needier communities in the world than Venus Cove, but they weren’t part of our mission. Other watchers had been assigned there. I was secretly glad I hadn’t been sent to a part of the world ravaged by war, poverty, or natural disaster. The images of those places on the news were confronting enough. I tried to avoid the news as it often led to feelings of despair. I couldn’t watch footage of children suffering from starvation and illness caused from lack of clean water. When I thought about the things humans could turn a blind eye to, it made me want to cry. What made one person more or less deserving than another? No one should be hungry or lonely or wishing for life to end. Although I prayed for divine intervention, sometimes the thought just made me angry.

When I talked to Gabriel about it, he said I wasn’t ready to understand right now, but that one day I would. “Address the things you can address,” was his advice.

The next morning the three of us set off to Fairhaven, the local nursing home. I’d visited Alice there once or twice as promised, but my visits had dropped off as I tended to devote most of my free time to Xavier. Gabriel and Ivy were regular visitors there, however, and made sure to take Phantom along with them. According to them, he always made a beeline for Alice without needing directions.

As Molly had also volunteered her services, we made a detour to pick her up. She was dressed and ready, despite the fact that it was nine o’clock on a Saturday morning, and I knew that she rarely surfaced before noon. We were surprised to find her dressed as if for a photo shoot in a denim miniskirt, high heels, and checked shirt. Taylah, who had stayed the night, couldn’t understand Molly’s decision to forfeit a Gossip Girl marathon to work with “old people.”

“Why are you going to a nursing home?” I heard her say as I opened the car door for Molly.

“We’ll all end up there one day,” said Molly with a smile. She checked her lip gloss in the car window.

“I won’t,” Taylah vowed. “Those places stink.”

“Call you later,” said Molly and climbed in dutifully beside me.

“But, Moll,” Taylah whined, “Adam and Chris were going to meet up with us this morning.”

“Say hi from me.”

Taylah stared after us as we pulled out of the drive, obviously wondering who had abducted her best friend and replaced her with this impostor.

When we arrived at Fairhaven, the nursing staff looked pleased to see us. They were used to Gabriel and Ivy coming regularly, but Molly’s presence took them by surprise.

“This is Molly,” said Gabriel. “She’s kindly offered to help us out today.”

“We’re always grateful for an extra pair of hands,” said Helen, one of the ward nurses. “Especially when we’re as short staffed as we are today.” She looked drawn and tired.

“I’m happy to help out,” said Molly, enunciating her words clearly as if Helen was hard of hearing. “It’s very important to give something back to your community.” She cast a sidelong glance at Gabriel, but he was busy unzipping his guitar case and didn’t notice.

“You’re just in time for breakfast,” said Helen.

“Thanks but I already ate,” said Molly.

A doubtful look crossed Helen’s face. “I meant the residents’ breakfast. You can help with the feeding if you like.”

We followed her down a dingy corridor and into the dining hall, which was shabby and had a dismal air despite the Vivaldi filtering out of an old CD player. The floral carpet was worn and the curtains were patterned with faded fruit. The residents were seated on plastic chairs at Formica tables. Those who couldn’t hold themselves upright were in deep leather chairs known as tub chairs. Despite the air fresheners plugged into the walls, there was a distinct smell of ammonia mixed with boiled vegetables. A portable television was switched on in one corner and was playing a wildlife documentary. The caretakers were mainly women, who went routinely about their tasks of folding napkins, clearing tables, and tying bibs on residents who couldn’t manage themselves. Some faces looked up in anticipation when we came in. Others weren’t aware enough of their surroundings to notice.

The breakfast trays were stacked on a cart and the meals were sealed in foil packs. On the second tier were rows of plastic drink mugs.

I couldn’t see Alice anywhere, so I spent the next half hour feeding a woman named Dora, who sat in a wheelchair with a multicolored crocheted afghan over her knees. She sat slumped with her mouth slack and her eyes drooping. Her skin was sallow and her hands were liver spotted. On her face, a network of broken capillaries showed through the paper-thin skin. I wasn’t sure what constituted “breakfast” at Fairhaven, but it looked like a pile of pale yellow sludge to me. I knew that some residents ate pureed meals to avoid the risk of choking.

“What is this?” I asked Helen.

“Scrambled eggs,” she said before moving off with the cart.

One elderly gentleman tried to take a spoonful of food, but his hands were so jittery, he ended up spilling it down his front. In an instant Gabriel was at his side. “I’ll get it,” he said, patting away the spilled food with a paper towel. Molly was so engrossed in watching him that she forgot to feed her charge who sat openmouthed and waiting.

After I’d finished helping Dora, I moved on to Mabel, who had the reputation of being the most truculent resident at Fairhaven. She pushed away the spoon I offered her and pressed her mouth shut firmly.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.

“Oh, don’t worry about Mabel,” said Helen. “She’s waiting for Gabriel. If he’s here she won’t accept food from anyone else.”

“Okay,” I said. “I haven’t seen Alice today. Where is she?”

“She’s been moved to a private room,” Helen replied. “I’m afraid she’s deteriorated since you last saw her. Her eyesight’s failing and she’s getting over a pulmonary infection. Her room’s just down the hall — first door on the right. I’m sure that seeing you will do her a world of good.” Why hadn’t Gabriel and Ivy told me? Had I been so engrossed in my own world that they’d concluded I wouldn’t care? I made my way down the hall to Alice’s room with a rising sense of dread.

Phantom had beaten me to it and was already there, keeping vigil in the hall. When I opened the door and we both went in, I almost didn’t recognize the woman in the bed. She was nothing like the Alice of my memory. Illness had ravaged her face and transformed her. Her body looked as fragile as a bird’s and her flimsy hair was uncombed. The colorful cardigans were gone and she was dressed in a plain white gown.

She didn’t open her eyes when I said her name, but she did stretch out her hand toward me. Phantom pushed his nose into it before I could take it.

“Is that you, Phantom?” said Alice in a hoarse voice.

“It’s Phantom and Bethany,” I replied. “We’ve come to visit.”

“Bethany…,” she repeated. “How good of you to come. I’ve missed you.” Her eyes were still shut as though the effort of opening them was too great.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Is there something I can get you?”

“No, dear, I have everything I need.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t come for a while. It’s just that…” I didn’t know what explanation to give for my negligent behavior.

“I know,” she said. “Life gets in the way. No need for apologies. You’re here now and that’s what’s important. I hope Phantom has been behaving.”

Phantom let out a short bark upon hearing his name.

“He’s the perfect companion.”

“Good boy,” said Alice.

“What’s all this I hear about you being sick?” I asked brightly. “We’ll have to get you back on your feet!”

“I’m not sure I want to get back on my feet. I think it might be time. ..”

“Don’t say that,” I said. “You just need some rest and…”

Alice’s head suddenly rolled forward and her eyes flew open. They didn’t focus on anything but rather stared wildly into space. “I know who you are,” she croaked.

“That’s good,” I replied, feeling a knot of alarm in my chest. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten me.”

“You’ve come to take me,” she said. “Not yet but soon.”

“Where are we going?” I asked. I didn’t want to accept what she was telling me.

“To Heaven,” she replied. “I can’t see your face, Bethany, but I can see your light.”

I stared at her, speechless.

“You will show me the way, won’t you?” she said.

I touched her wrist and felt for her pulse. It was like a candle burned almost to the wick. I knew that I couldn’t let my attachment to her stop me from doing my job. I closed my eyes and recalled the entity I had been in the Kingdom: a guide, a mentor for souls in transition. My domain had been to comfort the souls of children as they passed through.

“When the time comes you won’t be alone.”

“I’m a little frightened. Tell me, Bethany, will there be darkness?”

“No, Alice, only light.”

“What about my sins? I haven’t always been a model citizen, you know,” she said, a hint of her old feisty self emerging.

“The Father I know is all forgiving.”

“And will I see my loved ones again?”

“You will enter a much larger family. You will be as one with all the creatures of this world and beyond it.”

Alice sank back on her pillows, looking satisfied but tired. Her eyelids fluttered.

“You should try to sleep now,” I said.

I closed my fingers around her frail hand, and Phantom laid his head against her arm. Together we watched over her until she slept.

On the drive home I was still thinking about Alice and what she’d said. Watching death from above was sad, but actually experiencing it on earth was heart wrenching. It was an intense pain for which there could be no remedy. I felt a sharp stab of guilt for letting myself become so fixated by my love for Xavier that I’d shirked my other responsibilities. Heaven had approved our relationship, for the time being, at least, and I must not allow it to be all consuming. At the same time, I wanted nothing more than to find him and breathe in his comforting scent. No other person I knew could make me feel so alive.

News reached us the next morning that Alice had passed away in her sleep. It didn’t come as a surprise to me. I’d woken in the night to the sound of rain lashing at my window and when I’d slipped out of bed to close the curtains, Alice’s spirit had been hovering outside. She was smiling and seemed utterly at peace. Alice had lived a full and enriching life and was ready to move on. The loss would be felt most by her family, who hadn’t made the best of the time they’d shared together. They didn’t know it yet, but one day they would be given a second chance.

I felt her spirit as it passed out of this world, buzzing with nervous anticipation. She was no longer afraid, only excited to see what lay beyond. I reached out to her in my mind in a final gesture of farewell.