Just Like Heaven (5 page)

“My friend,” said an Asian
woman. “I’ve missed you so.” 

“Me too,” said Nina, even though she still couldn’
t place her. But Nina
spoke from her heart. Of that she had no doubt.
She sensed that they shared the most tightly-knit friendship imaginable. Their relationship
centered on
the most profound level of trust, support, and love that Nina had ever experienced. The depth and power of this connection almost overwhelmed her, perhaps because e
ach of the
se qualities was
in short-su
pply during her most recent incarnation
on
earth
.

“It’s Mei Lee,” said the woman.

“Of course,” Nina said, recognizing the name immediately, although she wouldn’t have conjured up that name without the reminder.

Next,
as her closest friend left her embrace a
blond haired man
enveloped her in a hug
,
issuing almost as much affection and understanding
as
Mei Lee
, before
another friend took his place.
There were so many people that she w
ent from one person to the next, experiencing vestiges of feelings about each of them, although memories about their respective history together failed to coalesce. And at he
r feet, even more cats and dogs had joined her. Never before had she felt so
adored
. Never before had she felt so happy. And never befo
re had she felt so at peace. Nina
had finally come home…to heaven.

This admission, a
fter saying hello to each person and all of he
r furry friends
,
triggered
a portion of her
memory to return to her. She turned to her
best friend, the exquisite Chinese woman with a beauty mark on her right cheekbone
, who
wore a red-sheened dress
, embroidered with
black hearts
.

“How are you feeling?”
asked
Mei Lee
, which meant “beautiful” in Chinese: an appropriate description of her petite friend.
A
faint memory
informed her
that Mei Lee had often allayed her
fears and uncertainty during one of her past incarnations on
earth
, although she couldn’t recall where or when that had taken place.

“Wonderful,” said Ni
na. Then she realized that
Mei Lee
had spoken in Chinese, and not only had Nina understo
od her, but she had responded
in English, which her frie
nd had comprehended without any difficulty
.
And this peculiarity felt…right. After all, why shouldn’t everyone, regardless of ethnicity or language, be able to communicate in heaven?

And then she recalled the accident
on earth
;
how
Nick, even though he
barely kne
w her, had risked his life to save hers.
Very few strangers would
have reacted with such haste.
So why had he taken that chance?

“Nick…is he okay? Did he make it? Did
he s
urvive?”

Mei Lee
tipped her hea
d to the side. “That depends
.
But then, you could ask the same question of yourself. W
e’ll get to all that
soon enough
. Now is time for reflection. Agreed?
”

Nina nodded. But she
worried about Nick
. After enduring the deaths of his family
members
, only to find himself on the Other Side, he
most likely felt
f
rightened. She’d endured that displaced, bewildered frame of mind
before
, and
she wanted to check on him to help assuage his discomfort. But seeing her so soon after the accident
might trigger
more questions than she could answer. Because in
t
his case, he needed to discover
some of
those answers for himself.

CHAPTER THREE

“
So this is a case of dead man talking, huh?” Nick asked, circling
Roland
. “I’m a zombie
. Is
that what you’re saying?” Nick
shook his head. “Oh,
don’t worry, Colonel. I’m n
ot a big fan of
legs, even the kind from KFC.
So I don’t think I’ll be craving human flesh any time soon.” He stroked his chin with feigned concentration. “
A walking, talking dead
man
stands before you. So where does that get us?”

Roland sighed as though suffering a tedious ailment.

“
Unless we
’re ghosts.” He recalled
f
lirting with
Nina
on
that very subject. It almost m
ade him want to smile. But the confusion
wracking his
brain
made that difficult.
“We’re not ghosts, are we?”

“No, we’re not ghosts,” said
Roland
. “We’re spirits.”

“But that’s the same thing. Ghosts, spirits…look it up in the thesaurus. You’ll find it next to apparitions, specters, and—”

“I’
ve always
enjoy
ed that
diverti
ng mind of yours, but it’s probably best to show you.”

“
Sure thing, Colonel. And why do they call you Colonel anyway? I thought you were a bu
sinessman. Were you in the
A
rmy? Did
you storm
the beach at Normandy?
F
ight in Vietnam? Or did you die more recently? What about Iraq or Afghanistan?
”

Far from amused,
Roland
shook his head in exasperation. “Follow me.”
He started towards the Greco-Roman building straight ahead.

Nick didn’t believe for one
second
that he was in heaven. This place, with all of its idealistic atmosphere and shiny happy people,
obviously
didn’
t
quite
reflect the imagery
of
the b
liss
depicted i
n
television shows
and in movies, so
this had to be an illusion. Better yet, a trick of the mind. In reality, he was still unconscious
on a
hospital
bed
.

And while he
visited this imaginary place
, he planned to enjoy himself…even live it up. Why not? His mind was a safe place. He had nothing to fear. With a bounce in his step, Nick caught up to
Roland
and trudged up
the
wide staircase. “If this is heaven,
where are the pearly gates? Or is that only symbolism?”

“No, they’re quite real – for people who want or expect to see them.”

“What does that mean? That people can create their own impression of heaven?”

“In a way, yes. It is heaven, after all.”

“Okay, how come I didn’t go through a tunnel? Isn’t that supposed to happen?”

“To some people, yes.”

“How about giving me a straight answer? What’s with all of these ‘yes, but’ type explanations? It’s
not
turning me into a believer.”

“Much of heaven is based
on
your
perspective.” Roland stopped and turned to Nick. “
Y
ou
do not believe, so how can you
see what
truly
is
?
You’ll
only
see a distortion of your own suspicions.
”
He shook his head in pity. “
And for that, I feel pity
for you.”

“Okay, so where’s God?”

Roland snickered. “We don’t see the Lord.”

“Why not? Is he too busy wrecking people’s lives on
e
arth
?”

“I give you
truth, yet
you aren’t willing to believe.
Therefore,
I
won’t
indulge your jaded comments.”

Although Nick didn’t regard this fantasy world as heaven, Roland obviously placed complete faith in his
perception
s, and Nick would not
insult him ju
st because they disagreed on that
point.
“S
o
why do I have to walk
…anywhere
? There were
even people riding bikes around here
. A kid was skateboarding.
In heaven? Really? What about flying? Why aren’t we soaring through the clouds like birds? Which reminds me: what about angels? Where are they?
”
Upon receiving a blank expression from Roland, he shook his head. “Right, I don’t expect to see them, so I can’t see them.”

“
What about that
concept seems so unusual
?”

“
I saw that truck coming right at Nina, and I couldn’t have stopped it just by hoping it would vanish.”

“On
e
arth
? No. In heaven? Anything’s possible.”

“So why are we still walking? Why can’t we just…be where we want to go?”

Roland
looked
him in the eye with a hint of a smile.
“
Ve
ry well
.” He clutched
Nick’
s
shoulder with one hand
and
snapped his fingers with the other.

After a
momentary
discombobulated sensation,
which made his stomach clench and his mind a little dizzy,
Nick opened his eyes to find himself inside a great hall.
He swayed to the side, off balance.

Roland reached out and held him upright.

“If this is heaven, why do I feel so lightheaded?”

“If you believed, you would be perfectly fine.”

“Okay, whatever.”
About fort
y stories
above him,
Nick
stared at
an enormous dome
constructed with such precision that it left him in awe. C
he
cking out his surroundings, he
noticed m
arble floors that led to
staircases in every direction
.

“What is this place?”

“We call it the Hall of Wisdom.”

He turned to
Roland
. “And how did you do that? What gives
?
” He
grabbed
Roland
’s
shoulder
and snapped his fingers. They remained in p
lace. Disappointed, he
snapped his fingers again. They didn’t budge.

Roland
chuckled
. “You’re quite the comic, aren’t you? Perhaps you should have given that line of work some consideration
instead of
devot
ing all of your energy to
the
art
world
.
”

“Never,” said Nick, his jaw-hard set. “I was born to create sweeping landscapes, images of the holidays and the importance of family and…” He had n
o idea why he’d gotten so upset or why he recited what sounded like a forced line of dialogue from a bad movie.
After all, this building and everyone in it was just a figment of his imagination.

And if
Nick
questioned his dreams of one day
having
his artwork in every twentieth home in the United States, like his unofficial mentor Thomas Kinkade,
it meant that deep down,
he failed to spend the necessary time and energy to make his dreams come true.
Never mind that
, when not
taking on
freelance
graphic art assignments
,
he spent most of his time in his heat-controlled
garage
working on
Kinkadesque
images
–
but with
m
ore of an edge.
Nick
couldn’t get past the
pain and loss
he’d experienced, and he needed to be true to all that he’d witnessed, which contributed to his more realistic vision of humanity and the world they lived in.