LOVER COME BACK
(C) 2012, by Scott Gould. All rights reserved.
A tale of love after death.
A man discovers the power to reach into Heaven and steal back his lost wife.
Chapter 1 -- Saying Goodbye
"Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
"I'll be fine. Now will you please stop worrying? I'll call you just as soon as I get there. I'll probably stay for the weekend."
Shane knew, deep inside, he was being overly worrisome. Still, on the surface, he couldn't shake this feeling that a bad omen was taking up residence in the cloud over his head. It was just a weekend trip to her mother's, but it was almost a hundred miles away. And there was a storm a-brewin'.
"Well, okay, if you're sure about this. And you call me anytime, day or night, if you need anything at all. You know my cell number, right? I'll be at the company conference, though I would much rather stay with you. And give Mom my best."
"I will, honey. I know your number. You just try and enjoy the time with your boss and colleagues. I'll be thinking of you a lot. And don't worry, nothin's gonna happen."
"I love you, Ruth," he said, as he planted a kiss on her cheek. "Take care of yourself."
"I know," she replied. "I love you, too."
Shane and Ruth Carver were newlyweds, married just two months. But it felt to Shane like two years as well as two days. He searched for a true love all his twenty-four years, and now that he had found it, he had become obsessed with keeping it safe and close to his heart. He always placed a stranglehold on the most important things in his life. Ruth might have thought she was being smothered by him doing this, but she reasoned it was because their life together had just begun. She was sure it would fade with time. She hoped so.
Ruth pulled away from the curb of the house and started down the long, country lane that served as the driveway. Just before she faded from view, Shane could have sworn he saw a crow—the bird of Death—swoop down and rest for a second on the hood of the car. Common sense told him he was being ridiculous in his anxieties; it was just a random moment. Still, he couldn't shake this foreboding that an omen had been aroused.
He turned back to the house and began making final preparations to leave for the weekend-long series of lectures focusing on the improving technologies of his employer. This firm was a paranormal studies research group. It was their job to use the laws of science and the unknown to delve into the fine line between this world and the next. They hoped to gain greater understanding and, perhaps—do they dare even think it—find a way to close the door.
"Let those who have already crossed over remain in their eternity, but we want to figure out a way to keep from joining them." Lawrence Sachs, the founding director of Project Lifestay, was often known to have quoted this in one form or another.
Shane gathered the last of his things and jumped in the cab for the airport. The flight was uneventful, and he knew that Fate was just setting him up for a letdown later. He exited the aircraft on the runway and walked toward the terminal. That same crow landed on a luggage dolly, stared right into his face, and let out a loud, Caw, Caw!
Shane knew the crow was saying, "I'm coming for you, buddy! I'm coming and the angels won't save you this time, for I locked them all up in Rapunzel's tower!"
Shane vigorously shook his head, and banished the banter from his memory. This is just an ordinary day, he told himself. You are fretting over nothing. Everything will be fine.
But he hadn't been in his hotel room for more than ten minutes when the call came in. "Mr. Carver," spoke the voice on the other end of the line, "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. It's your wife…there's been an accident."
It took what felt like an eternity for the words to register. Shane gasped for a breath, but none came. He just stared straight ahead at the blackness of the television screen. But hearing the news is not what placed him in shock. What did it was the sound of the voice on the phone: it was familiar, with a raven-like quality.
"Wh-what did you say?" Shane stammered. "What about my wife?"
"Mr. Carver, you need to get back home right away. There's been a horrific accident. The police and coroner's office wish to speak with you."
Shane could have sworn he continued to hear the cackling of several blackbirds in the background. He hoped he wasn't hallucinating after taking a few aspirins earlier in the day to help calm his nerves. He remembered he has sensitivity to any medication, with unpredictable results. When he was twelve, he had an episode of sleepwalking after downing some cough syrup.
"Who is this…really?"
"I told you, sir. This is the hotel manager. I'm calling from the front desk. Caw, Caw! Please pack your things back up and come down to the lobby to check out. I know you had an important meeting to attend, but it will have to wait. And, of course, there will be no charge for your stay. You have been here for less than a half-hour, and due to the tragic situation—"
Shane didn't even wait for the man to finish. He threw the phone down—which, oddly enough, landed in its correct position in its cradle—and grabbed his weekend bag. He hadn't even opened it yet. He bolted out the door and down the hall. He had no patience to wait for an elevator, so he took the stairs. All twenty flights of it. With adrenaline pumping, he surely had the energy.
Shane's mind was racing. When he was a young child, he'd heard stories about how Death makes its ominous presence known by the appearance of a crow. Nature has a strange way of paying tribute to Edgar Allan Poe, he thought. He didn't place much faith in those tales, however, passing them off as mystical phooey. Naivety teaches a harsh lesson, even if it takes a long time for the teacher to appear. "You didn't listen when you were younger, Shane baby. Now you must pay the price for being a non-believer!"
"What's this about my wife? You summoned me down here?"
"Mr. Carver?"
"Yes."
"I'm very sorry, but we've just received a message that your wife and mother-in-law have been in a terrible accident. The authorities say one of the women was killed, and it is presumed it was your wife."
"How can you be sure?"
"Do you really think that most people would believe the tale of a man caring about his wife's mother?"
Shane gave the clerk a look of bewildered disgust. "Oh, right. I forgot. Every man on Earth must hate his mother-in-law."
"Here are your papers for check-out. We will contact you if we need anything else. I have called a cab to take you straight to the airport. It should be here shortly."
As before, Shane didn't wait for the end. He was halfway through the revolving doors when the taxi pulled up. The driver had just turned around to greet him when he was already in the seat, closing the door.
"Good afternoon, sir. Where—?"
"Airport, please. Hurry, please."
Shane was in such a frantic state that he could not even take in the sights of Loss Angeles. This was his first time here, and he really wanted to see the place during his downtime. Now he realized, under the current circumstances, he had only been in town less than two hours. He didn’t know when, if ever at all, he’d get the chance to return. A part of him was mentally hallucinating. He thought the crow might have followed him cross-country to continue his string of evil luck.
Shane was so nervous on the return flight home to his town in New York that he couldn’t even stay awake. He used the six-hour jaunt to get in some extra rest. It was more or less a fitful sleep.
His mind was still racing, expecting the worst. He didn’t remember talking to the local officials at the police station, or even the hospital. When he fully came to his senses, the most prominent thing he was aware of was a morgue. It had a familiar, yet unmistakably disquieting feeling. He was led down a small corridor, entered through two cold, steel doors. Then another corridor, and then yet another.
Before he knew it he was in a small room, where everything looked white, the way he could imagine what Heaven must be like. The head coroner and a policeman walked him over to a wall made of large, metal drawers, resembling a huge filing cabinet. The coroner pulled on the handle of one and slowly drew back the table within, holding a female body. As if from rote memorization, he asked Shane, “Sir, is this your wife?”
Shane stepped back, aghast, about to faint, if not for the policeman’s quick catch. He knew what to expect. But nothing could prepare him for the moment. “Yes…yes, it is.”
Shane replied quickly, so as not to lose his breath, but it was too late. All he could feel in his lungs was cold, misty air. It was as if the smoke from the drawer had replaced his breath. Cold as it was, Shane forced himself to hold his wife’s clammy hand. He wanted to feel her skin once more, even in the grip of Death. He reached up and stroked her hair.
“Ruth…oh, Ruth,” his voice quivering, with tears in his eyes that he intentionally did not wipe away. “I only knew and spent a year’s time with you. Nowhere near the amount of time for it to be fair.”
Ruth had told him of several instances in her years growing up when life was not perfect. Her parents dying when she was just a child. Not feeling close to her foster families. The physical hole in her heart that never quite healed right. The friends she chased after and never quite caught.
“This world sometimes didn’t treat you very well, did it? And this is the cruelest cut of all. But you gave it all the love you had. It is your mark you left. And I am only one of many who will never forget. You are in a better place now. Goodbye, Ruth dear. I’ll see you again one day. Goodbye for now. I love you. I love you.” The last affirmation was made as a whisper.
The last thing Shane remembered before he left was to discreetly remove the gold bracelet from her right forearm. He tossed it in his shirt pocket, to be tucked safely away later. It was the very first gift he gave to her, and he told himself he’ll be damned if he’s going to let anyone take it away, even in Heaven.
Chapter 2 -- A New Start
Shane nearly had a row with his boss, Mr. Sachs, over his absence and neglect of work for the last two days, despite the tragedy befallen him. “Look,” he scolded Shane, “I’m sorry and I know you’re hurting over losing your wife. I suppose I would have the same feeling if I had ever been married—but there is work to be done around here. You missed the conference in L.A. entirely, and didn’t even acquire any notes. And now I hear you want the rest of the week off? For what? So you can wallow at home in your grief? I know what happened is a bad thing, but it’s time to grow up, son. You need to move on.”
How can this man be so unfeeling, thought Shane? He remembered this is not the first time his boss had come across with such a harsh demeanor.
And Shane was not the only one to be on the receiving end of the man’s wrath. His best friend in the workplace, Dave, a senior office manager, was once chewed out for forgetting to refill paper in the copier. It wasn’t even his job. At one point, Mr. Sachs jokingly threatened that if he made a careless mistake like that again, he was going to have company security escort Dave down to the basement. He would have him suspended from the ceiling above a vat of boiling oil, in which lived otherworldly demons who liked to have little boys for dinner.
Though at times it seemed Shane got it worst and most often, perhaps because he was one of the younger rookies. But also maybe because Mr. Sachs knew Shane was a newlywed with a new home, and took pleasure in making his life difficult, lest he quit or got fired. Sometimes it appeared the man was inhuman; he truly was the boss from hell.
“I’m sorry,” said Shane. “I can’t stay here and listen to your yapping. I’ve got to go.” And with that, Shane started for the door.
“Hey! Hey, Carver! Where are you going? There’s a lot of work to finish here. What about those shipping orders and reports from last week? I never got ’em."
“I’ll send you an email."
“Mister, don’t you walk away from me! Get back in here!”
Shane had his hand on the door handle.
“Carver…you leave outta here, don’t think about comin’ back!”
The door was ajar.
“Carver, you hear me? Carver!”
Shane was already halfway out the door. Before he disappeared from sight, he flipped the middle finger of his left hand in his former employer’s direction, which he was certain was clearly seen.
Shane wished the bird was a crow.
Shane moped around the house in a daze, waiting for the love of his life to walk through the front door, when he knows she never will. It was not something Shane was accustomed to, and he doubted he ever would become so. The house was modest at about 1200 square feet, but with Ruth gone, it felt like an endless mansion.
The nights were the very worst of all. Shane had to endure one round after another of quiet darkness. He lay in the bed restlessly, holding onto the mass of pillows that provided the only comfort of thinking Ruth was still with him.
At one point, he could have sworn he felt the soft touch of a hand run through his hair. But it was just one more hallucination…or was it a dream? Nevertheless, Shane felt it was real enough to shock him awake. He awoke in a cold sweat and hit his head on the backboard. Wincing in pain for just a split-second, he was knocked out and fell forward onto the pillows.
When he regained consciousness about an hour later, the hallucination continued, albeit pleasantly. He was confronted by an image of Ruth standing at the foot of the bed. Shane sat up, got to his knees. He was tangled up in the sheets, and it nearly pulled him back. He was afraid he’d hit his head again, and Ruth would be gone, as if the backboard was a toggle switch.
He violently threw the sheets and pillows onto the floor, and then once again gathered on his hands and knees to be next to her. He scrambled to be within an inch of her face. He longed so much to kiss her lips…just once more…to run his fingers through her hair…to feel the touch of her hand. He reached out to hold her, but missed. His hand went right through her.
"Ruth…"
“Shane,” she spoke in a voice that was more misty than corporal, “I’m not really here, but I will always be in your heart. I live in a different place now; a different kind of existence.”
“Please…come back. You can come back to me. We can be together again.”
“No. Shane, listen to me. I love you with all my heart, and because of that, I need you to be happy, here on Earth."
“Wha—?”
“I want you to find someone to spend your life with. I don’t want you to be lonely.”
“No, I can’t. I only want you.”
“I am sorry. You cannot. Not until your time comes and you can be like me and join me. It is time for you to move on. Find someone to share your life with.”
“No. I refuse to look for anyone else.”
“You must. If you don’t, you will die inside while you are still alive.”
“So be it. Without you, I feel like I’m already dead.”
“Goodbye, Shane. Remember what I said. Be happy here on Earth.”
And with that, the hologram that was Ruth dissipated into the air.
“No! Ruth, don’t go!” Shane shouted into an empty room. As he reached out to grab her, he fell off the bed and onto the floor. He got to his knees and continued to try and grab hold of her, but he was clutching nothing. A moment later, his fists drenched, he realized he was clutching his own fallen tears.
Then he woke up, this time for real, and found himself still holding onto a mass of pillows. But the words Ruth had spoken didn’t leave his mind. And at that moment, he vowed to himself never to forget them. Not so much to remember the message, but simply to remember her voice.
The weeks dragged on, followed by the months. Shane worked occasionally at temporary jobs, but was in no mood to concentrate on anything long-term again. Good thing he had a $20,000 savings cushion to help him when needed. Mostly he was just going through the motions of life, but without really living.
He still remained friends with Dave, the guy from his former job. Dave had mentioned to Shane, several times, that he needed to get back into the swing of things if he were to have any hope at all of regaining the joy of life. But the absence of Ruth seemed to be overwhelming. If the obstacle was this insurmountable, Dave could only imagine what it would take for Shane to love again. But it was still worth a shot. It would be a crime against humanity if Shane wound up living the rest of his life in this state. It turns out that Ruth spoke wise words in Shane’s dream.
The rest of his friends and everyone else who knew him agreed that he should work past his grief, move on and find another companion. And they also agreed that Dave should be the one to help him with this, if necessary. He just didn’t know how.
But fate had other plans. It was on his next job assignment that he met her. She was a client (and a bit of a demanding one at that) that Shane was ordered to assist in a home remodel, when he landed a position at an architectural design firm. There were many business lunches and dinners to attend, both with her alone and with other colleagues.
The difficulty arose from her needing to have things just right, and she changed her mind often, when something wasn’t perfect. The carpet or wallpaper color had to match exactly with the main décor of the room, or a window was placed too high or low for her tastes. But Shane had to hold his tongue and keep his opinions to himself, for she was, after all, a client.
Eventually, she began to ease up on her pickiness, when she realized she would rather have the job completed, period, rather than have no mistakes made. Also, the prolonged time to finish the job was taking a toll on her house, with papers and other materials scattered throughout the place. It was putting too much strain on her orderly, cleanliness-centered lifestyle, and the mess was irritating her. She discussed this briefly with Shane during one of their meetings.
The amount of time Shane was spending with her very much surprised him, but only when he stopped to think about it. He apparently was so involved in the work that many days he literally forgot about the misery that was taking up most of his personal life. And the more this melancholy slowly disappeared, the more he started to see her as possibly more than just a business client. He thought, perhaps one day, she might be the answer to what I am supposed to be looking for.
Her name was Myra. She was attractive, with dark hair and eyes, but not a classic beauty like Ruth was. Not that Shane forgot about Ruth. No, he never would.
During one of their appointments together, the conversation slowly turned more personal than expected. She was not married; did not have anyone in her life at the moment. Went through a bitter divorce with an abusive man about a year ago. Moved into her current abode shortly after. Was relatively well off, financially. No kids; didn’t want any. Said they got in the way of work.
A blow to Shane’s dreams. He wanted a family; a large one. And was about to start that endeavor with Ruth when he lost her. Upon further reflection, it came through a revelation that that was one of the major causes of the pain of missing her. His dreams of having a family had vanished in the haze, or so he thought. He didn’t think he could find another person in the world who would love him and take care of him and a family the way Ruth promised to. So Myra doesn’t want children, Shane thought. S’alright, I’m sure I can change her mind or work something out. But I don’t even have her yet. She’s just a business client.
Unless I can change that.
After the home remodeling project was completed, Myra came to the conclusion that the place was just too small for her (and someone else who may come into her life at some point). Shane’s depression over losing Ruth had completely disappeared. The more time he spent with Myra, the more he got close to her as a romantic interest. And this was confirmed one particular night with the help of alcoholic beverages and a period of getting lost in passion. In time, their business relationship faded in favor of a more personal one, though she still maintained ties with the company. But this was going to prove very difficult to juggle.
On one particularly stormy afternoon at the beach, Shane and Myra got caught up in a seaside squall. They were hiding underneath the posts of a dock not far from the café where they had their first date. They were very much taken by surprise, considering there was a cloudless sky when they started.
It was then and there that they were overcome with emotion. They were sure they would lose their balance and tumble down the sandy embankment to the shore below. The waves would crash around them, locking them in an embrace, recreating a classic scene in From Here to Eternity. But Shane wouldn’t let that happen. Ruth was the only woman he swore he would get involved with nautically—or naughtily. He only regrets that he never got the chance to do so, in either case.
And another thing which was tearing him up inside was realizing that he was spending time with another woman, while Ruth was lost in Heaven. Not to mention that he wondered if she had found someone else, as well, frolicking in paradise.
“Your house is finished, you know,” he spoke. “There is no more work to be done. I did everything you wanted.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied. The rain continued to wash down their faces, drench their clothing. She alternately pulled away from him at the same time that she wanted to be close. Their faces stood mere inches from each other.
“It’s just that…now it seems so small…for two or more…”
“What more? You said you don’t have a family; didn’t want one.”
“Yes, I know,” she repeated. “But I’ve been rethinking that lately. I don’t want to be in such a cramped abode the rest of my days, by myself. What if someone doesn’t come along?”
Shane took a step back, looked at her for a moment, and just blinked.
Myra continued, “I mean, someone that I know is right for me, and believes in all the same things I do. Someone who shares all my same hopes and dreams.”
“And I want it, too. Since I lost Ruth, I don’t have very much in my life anymore."
The wooden planks of the dock began to snap and collapse under the weight of the water. Shane and Myra escaped for cover to the safety of a nearby cave in a bluff, just as the entire dock gave way. The crash made Myra wince and turn. She buried her head in Shane’s shoulder. When she looked up, their lips barely touched.
Shane and Myra were married two months later. This was to both the pride and relief of Dave and all the rest of Shane’s friends. They were wondering when he was going to see in Myra what they saw.
They both concluded that Myra’s house was indeed too small. Barely enough for the two of them; crowded for even a family of three. It was not a consideration for them to occupy his home. Too many bad memories from the first union. Not in a million years was Shane about to let another woman sleep next to him in the same bed he shared with Ruth.
So a decision was made that Shane and Myra sell their respective houses, and they would use the money to help buy “a little place all their own.” Strangely, Shane thought that’s what he had with Ruth. Now, however, looking back, perhaps the place was too large—much in the same way Myra’s place was too small.
The first few weeks of married life were filled with all the special little moments of a new life together, and getting to know one another better. Although, Shane was raised to believe that should come before the marriage part. In his first try, he courted Ruth for a year before walking down the aisle with her.
Myra’s need to have things a certain way extended into married life. Cooking receptacles, dishes and utensils were to be placed in a particular way in a particular spot. Items of furniture were placed an exact distance from the wall and from each other. She even retired and arose at precisely the same time each night and day.
But perhaps her strongest rule of thumb revolved around the concept of cleanliness. Myra was the type of person who silently cursed the dishwasher or soap manufacturer if a spot was left on her glasses. Not that she did anything about it. It was enough for her to send a spell through the air. She couldn’t just wash dishes by hand in the sink. She demanded an appliance do what was expected of it.
She had a tiff if someone put a single fingerprint smudge on a window. Heaven help them if they carelessly left behind a streak of dust or a crumb of food on furniture when cleaning up after themselves. And eating was to be done only in the kitchen, dining room or patio. No taking food elsewhere in the house. Bringing a late night snack to bed was to invite the fury which hell hath wrought of a famous scorned feline.
Needless to say, the newlywed couple had few friends or neighbors visit.
Shane told himself that because he bought Myra a home, she should be entitled to keep her things her way. He also told himself that these were just early marriage eccentricities; symptoms of anxiety of a life with someone new. He hoped that, in time, the day-to-day rituals would fall away, and Myra’s neuroses would sail away into the sunset in favor of a life filled with ease.
Easier said than done.
One evening, shortly after the two-month probationary period of their wedded bliss, Shane came home ten minutes late. He told Myra he wanted to have “a night out with the boys.” He said he’d be home by midnight. He waltzed in the door at 12:10. He came in the front door, and stood there swaying for a moment. He was not drunk. He was trying to adjust his eyes to the light. Myra had all the lights on in the living room. She was standing by the fireplace, tapping her foot, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. She looked like a teapot about to boil over, with steam coming out the sides.
“Where the hell were you?” Myra asked calmly. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little after twelve. I told you earlier, I spent the night out with some friends. You look mad. Did I forget to do a chore, or something?”
“You forgot something, alright. You forgot to check your watch.” Shane felt like a youngster being scolded for missing a curfew.
“Look,” he affirmed, “I said I’d be home at midnight, and it’s…it’s a little past midnight.” Shane’s eyes lit up as a revelation hit him. “I don’t believe this! You’re upset over a measly ten minutes?”
“Twelve does not mean 12:10!”
“Are you so critical that you can’t allow a leeway of just a few minutes? Just because you’re so perfect doesn’t mean everyone else has to bow down to your demands.”
Shane regretted those words the moment he said them. He walked toward her with open arms.
“Oh…oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I…”
But it was too late. The teapot had blown its top, and was spewing hot water and steam all over the kitchen counters and floor. Myra turned and stormed toward the master bedroom.
“Oh!” she screamed.
Shane chased after her, but she slammed the door in his face. “Since you like that living room couch in front of the television so much, you can have them both tonight!”
And that was the start of trouble in paradise.
Chapter 3 – Finding Answers
It turns out that Myra’s demanding ways were not a phase; not the growing pains of a new partner. They were part of her character; a reflection of her makeup. He didn’t know if he could live with a person like that for the rest of his life.
All of the memories of the pain of missing Ruth came flooding back. He missed her and wanted her back now more than ever.
In time, he learned to make up excuses to not be home with Myra all the time when he didn’t have to. He lied when he said he was being made to stay late at work. He made it a point to make more friends, just so he could be with them more than her, such as having more nights out with the boys—although, he henceforth made sure to avoid his ‘curfew’ mistake.
On the rare occasion when he did make a mistake—which meant a mistake to Myra—he quickly and profusely apologized, for he did not want his own world to come crashing down, for one night anyway.
He had to remember not to leave a single item of clothing lying carelessly about. “Worn and dirty clothing must be placed in the hamper at once. We don’t want germs crawling around in my house.”
My house. Rules Abound. And Shane knew what that spelt. Trouble.
In hindsight, Shane knew he should have learned all he could about this woman before committing to a life with her. Her demands when having her smaller house built should have been a clear clue. But Ruth’s request for Shane to find someone to be with, combined with his desire to get over her clouded the picture. He rushed into this union, in haste, unlike with Ruth.
He knew he should be the man in this thing, but in time, it seemed more and more like Myra was taking over the relationship, smothering him like a praying mantis, and setting him up for the end all. He probably has had his head bitten off more times than he can remember, only to have it spit back out and fitted on again for the next hunt.
Before too long, it felt like he was walking on eggshells around her, afraid to utter a word or commit a deed. It might be the next big mistake. Eventually things got to a point where they were barely speaking. He called her hypercritical; she said he was too immature and overly sensitive.
Shane wondered some nights, lying awake in bed, if it were better to seek a divorce, chalk this one up to a lesson learned, and begin looking for that someone new Ruth mentioned all over again, this time with better forethought.
One Saturday, Myra asked Shane to go to a store to pick up a special bottle of wine, and packages of crackers and cheeses. She was going to entertain some friends the next day. It was such a nice day out, that Shane decided not to return home right away. That amounted to a cardinal sin, but he didn’t care.
The place she sent him to was a bit out of the way, and on his drive home, he passed what appeared to be an amusement carnival or fair. It was an event he hadn’t partaken of since a young child, and he concluded that he deserved to enjoy an occasional diversion of joy in his life. The wine would stay safe in the car, and would be refrigerated at once upon returning home.
Shane passed by an exhibit manned by a gentleman in an outfit somewhat resembling a court jester’s costume. It came complete with striped parachute pants and a pointy top hat and cloak, adorned with images of moons and stars.
He noticed a small crowd gathered around the booth, being amused with tricks performed by the clown. After the crowd thinned away, he walked up to the man and asked him if he was a real magician. The guy said that yes, he was.
“I am a sorcerer,” was the explanation he gave. “I know long-forgotten secrets of the masters, taught by my father, that were taught by his father, and so on. You are new to me, so you get one wish. You should make it worth your while, and tell me before sundown. What is your wish, my good man? Do you need some time to think it over?”
“Perhaps…” Shane’s mind raced for a moment, and then he changed his stance. “No, wait, I do know what I want. I now know for sure.”
“Come this way, sir, while we chat in private,” he told Shane as he led him into a tent. The rest of the fair was going on its normal, merry way, without so much as an eyebrow raised. Shane did not want anyone to see him going into the tent, lest they think he was one more ruse of a charlatan.
Shane knew he had nothing to lose, for the worst that could happen was…nothing.
The man directed Shane to sit across from him at a small table inside. It was covered with a tablecloth that had the same celestial gems as the man’s hat and cloak. There was a crystal ball in the middle of the table. It had been placed on a pedestal, and Shane suddenly got the feeling he was about to get his fortune read…for a fortune.
The gentleman slid the ball off to the side as if he was passing it off as a worthless tool. Instead, he took hold of Shane‘s hands in his, and he looked into his eyes. “I can tell there is something deeply troubling you, my young man,” he said. “Something has gone very wrong in a close relationship, and you are very unhappy.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Shane. “How did you know that? How can you tell? We just met…”
“Don‘t worry,” the man said. “The old and the wise know much. I can feel your life force. I can tell you have had someone new come into your life, which you are not happy with. You know not how to deal with it, and it is not easy to get rid of. I also know you have lost someone very close to you that you wish to have back. Do I speak the truth, thus far?”
“Exactly. Can you—”
“What is this wish you desire me to grant unto you? You said you knew what you wanted.”
“Can you make someone change their ways? Can you change someone to be a different person?” Shane asked.
“It may…just may be possible. But it is extremely difficult. One cannot simply go in and change a person. Especially without their knowledge or consent. What is it exactly you would have me do? Tell me why you are so unhappy.”
Shane started to pour his heart out to the old man. At one point he even started to cry, which he knew he should not do, being a man. But he did not care who knew; his soul was hurting. He spilled everything in detail, from the beginning, up to the point where he started finding excuses to not spend time with Myra in an effort to avoid her.
The marriage had turned into a union only in substance, and not in form. There was no love or passion anymore. They were staying together just to have a place for each of them to live. And the time was slowly but surely coming that each of them would have to admit that it was over. Each partner would go their separate ways and admit defeat.
“I am sorry,” the magician said, “but I cannot repair a broken union. It takes two persons to make, and it is difficult enough trying to change one person. Two is like changing the universe.”
One last tear ran down Shane’s cheek as he realized that this was the second marriage of his that would have to end.
“Is there anything else I may do for you? Anything at all?”
“No…not really,” Shane said, as he started to get up and head for the door. “Not unless you can bring my first wife back from the dead. That would completely erase my unhappiness.”
“I am sorry,” the man said. “I may be able to do many things, but even I am not the Grand Creator. There are some things that are beyond even my abilities.” The gentleman began tidying up a bit around his tent as Shane started for the exit. The old man, in straightening up knick-knacks on a low table, caught sight of a small box. He had not had anything to do with in a very long time; indeed, he thought he had lost it. A broad smile crossed his heart inside, as he instantly recalled what it was. Inside was a tool that allowed entrance to the afterlife. He did not want Shane to get away.
“Young man, wait!” he called out. “Stop! Please come back.”
Shane stopped short in his tracks so abruptly he thought his heart would stop from the shock. He turned and saw the old man leaning forward, complete with his long, gray, scraggily beard, and motioning with his arm for Shane to return. Shane looked into the old man’s eyes and thought he saw himself as a young boy. It must be a trick, he mused.
“What is it, wise one? Can you help me, after all?”
“Perhaps. Come in, my son, come in.”
Shane sauntered into the space, wary of coming away empty-handed again.
The old man held the box gently but firmly as he looked into Shane’s eyes. “I cannot change the ways that a person is. But maybe I can bring back a lost someone.”
“You can bring back my wife?! I would be forever grateful—”
“Shh! Shhhh…not so loud!” the man whispered. “We don’t want word to get out. I am not supposed to tell this, and I don’t even know if it will work.”
“I’ll pay anything,” said Shane, jumping up and down inside like a child eager to open a Christmas present. “What’s in the box? What’cha got?”
The man set the box on the table and slowly opened it up to reveal a shiny, yellow crystal. Shane thought it was going to blind him. “This is Heaven’s Tear. Be very, very careful with it, as it is very, very powerful.”
“What does it do? Where did you get it?”
“I cannot tell where it is from, but I will tell you what you do with it. This allows you to enter Heaven—for just a little while, maybe fifteen or thirty minutes—find someone that you want to take away, and bring them back to Earth.”
“You mean I can take my wife back? You better not be joking with me, old man.”
“This is no joke. It works. You can do this. There is only one catch.”
“I knew it. I knew there was something to this.”
“The heavens know how many angels they have. You must find someone to put in her place.”
Shane immediately thought of his boss, and then changed his mind in favor of Myra. He was disgusted with himself. Love her or not, she was still his wife, and should not wish her dead. But still, the love was hardly there in a marriage practically nonexistent. And oftentimes, Myra did not behave like an equal, loving partner in a blissful relationship. He decided to bring up the subject, merely out of curiosity.
“Suppose I find someone to put in another’s place in Heaven. Then what? How am I to convince them to be a martyr and die for this cause, selfish as it may be?”
“You don’t have to do any convincing. I will teach you all you need to know.”
“How am I ever going to repay you? What do you want out of this?”
“I don’t want anything for this deed. But there is a secret I wish you to keep for me.”
“I am good at keeping secrets.”
“Do you know my name?”
Shane thought about this for a moment. “No…no, I don’t.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Chapter 4 – Trapped in Paradise
Shane walked in the door about six o’clock. Myra was reading in the living room. She got up from her chair. “I was wondering when you’d decide to return. Did you get my wine?”
“I have it right here.” Not much of the chill had faded. “It can stay nice and cold in the fridge until tomorrow night.” Your majesty, he added, to himself.
“Well, thank you for the favor. I’m tired and thinking of going to bed early tonight. Your dinner is in the oven.”
Myra isn’t tired, Shane thought. She’s just irritated that I came home late. She’s resorting to one of her moods to voice her displeasure. Shane put the bottle of wine upright on the top shelf of the refrigerator. It was merely an attempt to convince Myra that he cared enough to take care of her prized possession. He placed it prominently where she could easily see it.
He then opened up the door to the oven and found a TV dinner, still wrapped in the foil. She couldn’t even place it on a glass plate; she has to treat me like a child.
Shane ate his dinner of cold meat loaf and mashed potatoes with a carefully determined focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the old man at the fair and the crystal in his jacket pocket. After finishing his supper, and washing and drying his hands, he fingered it for a few moments, letting it roll around his hand. He then took it out and studied it more closely. He expected to find an engraving that read Made in China on the underside. But it was perfectly clear, without so much as a nick or scratch. He wondered how this simple thing could bring someone back from the other side. It must have magical properties, or something, he thought.
Shane climbed into bed at eight, but couldn’t sleep a wink for hours. He was contemplating whether to try the trick that night, or if he should wait. If he waited too long, he feared the crystal would lose its luster. He thought there was a certain amount of magic inside that had to be used quickly. Also, there was a chance he could lose the thing if he held onto it for too long. And worst of all, Myra might find it, consider it one of his useless toys, and discard it.
At exactly midnight, Shane was still wide-awake. Myra was fast asleep next to him. Shane sat up on his elbows and looked to his right to do a quick double-check. It’s now or never, he thought. Following the instructions explicitly from his sorcerer friend, he took the crystal from his pajama top’s shirt pocket. He held it from the cord running through the hole in the top. He stood by the edge of the bed where Myra slept and dangled it over her head. It swayed gently in the breeze coming through the window.
Myra stirred gently, as if she was about to awaken, but Shane was told this was to be expected. Myra stayed asleep. Suddenly, her eyes popped open. Myra was still fast asleep, but Shane didn’t know this. He wasn’t told about this part.
“Myra, are you awake? I…I’m sorry, dear. I can explain.”
The crystal began to glow, slowly at first. Shane was sure everything was working just as it was supposed to. Before he knew it, the immediate environment around Shane and Myra was completely different. Everything was cloudy and surreal. Shane knew he had made it; he was in Heaven with her. Now all he had to do was find Ruth and leave out of there before the crystal’s magic wore out.
“Shane…what’s going on?” asked Myra. “Where are we?”
“It’s all right. You’re dreaming.”
“This is all a dream?”
“Yes, honey. C’mon, let’s take a walk.”
“You wanna go for a walk?”
“Yes,” affirmed Shane. “We’ve been going through some tough times lately, and I don’t want this to be the end. The end of us.”
“Yes, I agree. We need to talk some things over.”
Myra saw the crystal in Shane’s hand. “What’s that?” she asked.
He looked down. “Oh, just a little trinket I had in my pocket.”
That was a little too close for comfort. Shane had to look for something—quick—to distract Myra, while he looked for Ruth. And there, right in front of him, he stumbled upon a garden.
“Hey, I know you like flowers,” he called to her as he trounced ahead. “You’re into roses, right?”
“Oh, you know me. Roses are so common. I’m more of a daisy kind of gal.”
Shane went right to work picking daisies that appeared before him, as if Myra’s wish made them materialize. He gathered about a dozen, which he brought to her. Myra admired and got to know each one, like she had a dozen children at her beck and call.
With Myra kept busy for the moment, Shane gazed into the crystal. “Come on, Ruth! Where are you?” he cried. The crystal appeared cloudy. He thought all hope was lost. Then the cloud began to disappear in favor of a clearer image. It was a human form, but Shane couldn’t yet make out what it was.
Then he saw her, clear as day. It was Ruth. He knew she had to be somewhere nearby. He saw a shadowy form out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, and she was right there. She was by the roses. Maybe Shane mentioned roses earlier because he thought all women liked them. Then again, he saw Ruth in everyone. Except for Myra.
“Ruth. Oh, Ruth…”
“Shane,” she said. “How did you…what are you doing here?”
“Shh,” he said. “I honestly thought I’d never see you again. You look just the same as I remembered.”
“Shane, you didn’t…die…did you?”
“No, nothing like that.” He made a show of twirling the crystal around his hands.
“What’s going on?”
“I summoned you here. I’ve come to take you back.”
“Take me back? What do you mean? How can you—?”
“Shh,” Shane said again. “Don’t ask questions. You’re going to have to trust me on this one. I think I can do it.”
“Shane?” called out Myra’s voice. “Who are you talking to?”
Shane felt the panic rise in his throat. “Myra…this is Ruth. You remember me telling you about her, right?” Myra’s eyes went icy cold for a moment.
“Hello,” Ruth greeted Myra. “And who might you be?”
“I’m his wife, honey.”
Myra pulled Shane off to the side for a moment. “What’s she doing in my dream?” she whispered loudly to him.
“I have no idea. Pretty wild, huh?”
“Can you get rid of her?”
“Okay, look, can I please just go and talk to my friend for a few minutes? Please? And I’ll come right back to you. I swear that nothing is going on with me and her—in make believe or in real life.”
Myra threw her hands up. “Oh, alright. Go have fun with your friend for awhile, then come right back. I’ll busy myself somehow.”
Shane went back again to where Ruth was standing by the roses. “Ruth…Ruth, dear,” he said. “I need you to listen to me. We don’t have much time.”
“Shane, I’m scared. I don’t like this. What are you doing?”
“Ruth, just trust me. Hold on to me. Put your arms around me.”
Ruth interlocked her arms tightly around Shane’s neck. With one arm around her waist, Shane dangled the crystal over Ruth’s head, just as he had done to Myra. And he dreamed of home. Before he knew it, he was back in his home. In his bedroom. Alive on Earth.
Ruth released her grip. “What happened? Where am I?” she asked. She then noticed something exhilaratingly different. She went to a mirror on a far wall. Ruth saw herself complete as ever. “Oh…oh, my…my God, I don’t believe this.” She felt her stomach; her thighs. “It’s me! I’m whole again! I’m alive!”
Ruth threw her arms around Shane in a tight bear hug. “Oh, you did it, baby! I don’t know how, but you did it. I’m alive on Earth again. Thank you, thank you! Now we can be together again.”
“Yes, we’re together again! I told you I’d do it!” Shane exclaimed joyfully. “Now we can live the rest of our lives as we were meant to be.”
Ruth smiled at her former long-lost husband. She looked around. “Shane, where are we? Whose home is this? Is this…hers? Where is she, Shane?”
Shane was so lost in the ecstasy of having Ruth back that he completely forgot about Myra. He held up the crystal. “She’s in here.”
“She’s WHAT? You killed someone else to have me back?”
“You have to understand, honey. It was the only way. I needed to have you back in my life. I told you that in my dream. And you told me to look for someone else, remember? And I really tried. But life with her was very stressful. I missed you so much, and the magician who gave me the gift said this was the only way. You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No. No, not at all. I’m glad I’m back.” She hugged him once again. “But what will become of her? Will she linger in Heaven for all eternity?”
“Not if I can help it. It’s only temporary. Sure, she was a handful to deal with at times, but she didn’t have to die for it. As soon as I find someone else who is more deserving, I will bring her back.”
“Does she know where she is?”
“I don’t think so. I told her she’s having a dream.”
“She must be told, Shane. You owe her that much. Sooner or later she will find out the truth when she doesn’t awaken.”
“Oh, okay, I suppose you’re right. She has to know.”
Shane walked to the bedroom window and looked outside at the world. He realized it was unfair that he was viewing the world as part of the living, when Myra was caught in another world entirely.
He held up the crystal and called out to Myra. Myra was having fun in the garden playing 'fetch the acorn' with a squirrel. But, of course, the acorn never came back. She expected to rejoin Shane on their walk any minute now, after he was finished talking with Ruth. She heard her name being called—as an echo, from all around. She looked up and realized something was terribly wrong. She called out to Shane.
“Shane? Shane, where are you? Come back, please.”
“Myra, listen to me.” The voice boomed down from the heavens—literally. “Listen—you aren’t dreaming. You are in Heaven. I put you there. I had to in order to take back Ruth. And you have to stay there for awhile.”
“Shane? Shane, don’t do this to me! I don’t deserve this! I’m sorry. What did I do to you?”
“I’m sorry, too, Myra. I couldn’t take my life with you the way it was. And I missed Ruth so much. I just had to have her back.”
“NO, please! I’m sorry! I’ll change my ways. Things will be different.”
“I have to go, Myra. I will try to find someone to take your place. It won’t be long.”
“Shane, no! Take me back, please. Don’t leave me here to die. Take me back!”
Shane waltzed into his old job an hour late. This was the fourth time this month. Since getting Ruth back, he vowed to spend as much time with her as possible. Even if it meant jeopardizing his employment again. He sat down at his desk and looked over the mounds of paperwork he could never seem to finish working on, for Mr. Sachs kept piling it on each day.
“So nice of you to decide to finally join us today, Mr. Carver,” Mr. Sachs retorted sarcastically. “Have you been spending time again with your reincarnated wife? I would love to meet her one of these days. Maybe she can charm us with one of her freaky ghost stories from Heaven.” Lawrence Sachs chuckled to himself as he passed by Shane’s cubicle.
Shane was getting tired of these snide remarks from his superior. But ultimately, he knew he would have to hold his tongue and practice tolerance, lest he needed to look for other work again. And that was not so easy the first time around after Ruth had died. But one of these days, Shane thought to himself, the man is going to go too far, and I refuse to be responsible for my actions.
The very next week, at the Christmas office party, Mr. Sachs wasted no time in belittling Shane for all his small mistakes. Honest errors that could have been anyone’s; some no fault of his own. Missing a meeting with a client because of a misplaced request form. Being accused of payroll fraud when the mistake was later found to be with the payroll department itself.
“Why do you insist on making a fool of yourself like this in front of everyone?” Shane asked Lawrence in the presence of the crowd.
“It’s just so easy…and fun,” he answered. “But if it’s not to your liking, you are always free to leave the job. Nothing is keeping you here.”
You’re right, Shane thought. Nothing is keeping me here…except the fact that I have to make a living. Just as you do…for a company studying Life and Death.
Shane appeared to be Lawrence’s favorite target, coming across as more like a bully than anything else. Perhaps Lawrence thought Shane had nothing to fight back with. But he would soon find out that he’d be wrong. Dead wrong.
Shane didn’t say a word in response to Mr. Sach’s rants. Didn’t have to. He knew exactly what he had to do in order to end his problem.
Shane eyed his boss up and down with a sinister smile on his face. In his pocket, he gently rolled a small, yellow object between his fingers.
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© 2010, by Scott Gould
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(C) 2012, by Scott Gould. All rights reserved.
A tale of love after death.
A man discovers the power to reach into Heaven and steal back his lost wife.
Chapter 1 -- Saying Goodbye
"Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
"I'll be fine. Now will you please stop worrying? I'll call you just as soon as I get there. I'll probably stay for the weekend."
Shane knew, deep inside, he was being overly worrisome. Still, on the surface, he couldn't shake this feeling that a bad omen was taking up residence in the cloud over his head. It was just a weekend trip to her mother's, but it was almost a hundred miles away. And there was a storm a-brewin'.
"Well, okay, if you're sure about this. And you call me anytime, day or night, if you need anything at all. You know my cell number, right? I'll be at the company conference, though I would much rather stay with you. And give Mom my best."
"I will, honey. I know your number. You just try and enjoy the time with your boss and colleagues. I'll be thinking of you a lot. And don't worry, nothin's gonna happen."
"I love you, Ruth," he said, as he planted a kiss on her cheek. "Take care of yourself."
"I know," she replied. "I love you, too."
Shane and Ruth Carver were newlyweds, married just two months. But it felt to Shane like two years as well as two days. He searched for a true love all his twenty-four years, and now that he had found it, he had become obsessed with keeping it safe and close to his heart. He always placed a stranglehold on the most important things in his life. Ruth might have thought she was being smothered by him doing this, but she reasoned it was because their life together had just begun. She was sure it would fade with time. She hoped so.
Ruth pulled away from the curb of the house and started down the long, country lane that served as the driveway. Just before she faded from view, Shane could have sworn he saw a crow—the bird of Death—swoop down and rest for a second on the hood of the car. Common sense told him he was being ridiculous in his anxieties; it was just a random moment. Still, he couldn't shake this foreboding that an omen had been aroused.
He turned back to the house and began making final preparations to leave for the weekend-long series of lectures focusing on the improving technologies of his employer. This firm was a paranormal studies research group. It was their job to use the laws of science and the unknown to delve into the fine line between this world and the next. They hoped to gain greater understanding and, perhaps—do they dare even think it—find a way to close the door.
"Let those who have already crossed over remain in their eternity, but we want to figure out a way to keep from joining them." Lawrence Sachs, the founding director of Project Lifestay, was often known to have quoted this in one form or another.
Shane gathered the last of his things and jumped in the cab for the airport. The flight was uneventful, and he knew that Fate was just setting him up for a letdown later. He exited the aircraft on the runway and walked toward the terminal. That same crow landed on a luggage dolly, stared right into his face, and let out a loud, Caw, Caw!
Shane knew the crow was saying, "I'm coming for you, buddy! I'm coming and the angels won't save you this time, for I locked them all up in Rapunzel's tower!"
Shane vigorously shook his head, and banished the banter from his memory. This is just an ordinary day, he told himself. You are fretting over nothing. Everything will be fine.
But he hadn't been in his hotel room for more than ten minutes when the call came in. "Mr. Carver," spoke the voice on the other end of the line, "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. It's your wife…there's been an accident."
It took what felt like an eternity for the words to register. Shane gasped for a breath, but none came. He just stared straight ahead at the blackness of the television screen. But hearing the news is not what placed him in shock. What did it was the sound of the voice on the phone: it was familiar, with a raven-like quality.
"Wh-what did you say?" Shane stammered. "What about my wife?"
"Mr. Carver, you need to get back home right away. There's been a horrific accident. The police and coroner's office wish to speak with you."
Shane could have sworn he continued to hear the cackling of several blackbirds in the background. He hoped he wasn't hallucinating after taking a few aspirins earlier in the day to help calm his nerves. He remembered he has sensitivity to any medication, with unpredictable results. When he was twelve, he had an episode of sleepwalking after downing some cough syrup.
"Who is this…really?"
"I told you, sir. This is the hotel manager. I'm calling from the front desk. Caw, Caw! Please pack your things back up and come down to the lobby to check out. I know you had an important meeting to attend, but it will have to wait. And, of course, there will be no charge for your stay. You have been here for less than a half-hour, and due to the tragic situation—"
Shane didn't even wait for the man to finish. He threw the phone down—which, oddly enough, landed in its correct position in its cradle—and grabbed his weekend bag. He hadn't even opened it yet. He bolted out the door and down the hall. He had no patience to wait for an elevator, so he took the stairs. All twenty flights of it. With adrenaline pumping, he surely had the energy.
Shane's mind was racing. When he was a young child, he'd heard stories about how Death makes its ominous presence known by the appearance of a crow. Nature has a strange way of paying tribute to Edgar Allan Poe, he thought. He didn't place much faith in those tales, however, passing them off as mystical phooey. Naivety teaches a harsh lesson, even if it takes a long time for the teacher to appear. "You didn't listen when you were younger, Shane baby. Now you must pay the price for being a non-believer!"
"What's this about my wife? You summoned me down here?"
"Mr. Carver?"
"Yes."
"I'm very sorry, but we've just received a message that your wife and mother-in-law have been in a terrible accident. The authorities say one of the women was killed, and it is presumed it was your wife."
"How can you be sure?"
"Do you really think that most people would believe the tale of a man caring about his wife's mother?"
Shane gave the clerk a look of bewildered disgust. "Oh, right. I forgot. Every man on Earth must hate his mother-in-law."
"Here are your papers for check-out. We will contact you if we need anything else. I have called a cab to take you straight to the airport. It should be here shortly."
As before, Shane didn't wait for the end. He was halfway through the revolving doors when the taxi pulled up. The driver had just turned around to greet him when he was already in the seat, closing the door.
"Good afternoon, sir. Where—?"
"Airport, please. Hurry, please."
Shane was in such a frantic state that he could not even take in the sights of Loss Angeles. This was his first time here, and he really wanted to see the place during his downtime. Now he realized, under the current circumstances, he had only been in town less than two hours. He didn’t know when, if ever at all, he’d get the chance to return. A part of him was mentally hallucinating. He thought the crow might have followed him cross-country to continue his string of evil luck.
Shane was so nervous on the return flight home to his town in New York that he couldn’t even stay awake. He used the six-hour jaunt to get in some extra rest. It was more or less a fitful sleep.
His mind was still racing, expecting the worst. He didn’t remember talking to the local officials at the police station, or even the hospital. When he fully came to his senses, the most prominent thing he was aware of was a morgue. It had a familiar, yet unmistakably disquieting feeling. He was led down a small corridor, entered through two cold, steel doors. Then another corridor, and then yet another.
Before he knew it he was in a small room, where everything looked white, the way he could imagine what Heaven must be like. The head coroner and a policeman walked him over to a wall made of large, metal drawers, resembling a huge filing cabinet. The coroner pulled on the handle of one and slowly drew back the table within, holding a female body. As if from rote memorization, he asked Shane, “Sir, is this your wife?”
Shane stepped back, aghast, about to faint, if not for the policeman’s quick catch. He knew what to expect. But nothing could prepare him for the moment. “Yes…yes, it is.”
Shane replied quickly, so as not to lose his breath, but it was too late. All he could feel in his lungs was cold, misty air. It was as if the smoke from the drawer had replaced his breath. Cold as it was, Shane forced himself to hold his wife’s clammy hand. He wanted to feel her skin once more, even in the grip of Death. He reached up and stroked her hair.
“Ruth…oh, Ruth,” his voice quivering, with tears in his eyes that he intentionally did not wipe away. “I only knew and spent a year’s time with you. Nowhere near the amount of time for it to be fair.”
Ruth had told him of several instances in her years growing up when life was not perfect. Her parents dying when she was just a child. Not feeling close to her foster families. The physical hole in her heart that never quite healed right. The friends she chased after and never quite caught.
“This world sometimes didn’t treat you very well, did it? And this is the cruelest cut of all. But you gave it all the love you had. It is your mark you left. And I am only one of many who will never forget. You are in a better place now. Goodbye, Ruth dear. I’ll see you again one day. Goodbye for now. I love you. I love you.” The last affirmation was made as a whisper.
The last thing Shane remembered before he left was to discreetly remove the gold bracelet from her right forearm. He tossed it in his shirt pocket, to be tucked safely away later. It was the very first gift he gave to her, and he told himself he’ll be damned if he’s going to let anyone take it away, even in Heaven.
Chapter 2 -- A New Start
Shane nearly had a row with his boss, Mr. Sachs, over his absence and neglect of work for the last two days, despite the tragedy befallen him. “Look,” he scolded Shane, “I’m sorry and I know you’re hurting over losing your wife. I suppose I would have the same feeling if I had ever been married—but there is work to be done around here. You missed the conference in L.A. entirely, and didn’t even acquire any notes. And now I hear you want the rest of the week off? For what? So you can wallow at home in your grief? I know what happened is a bad thing, but it’s time to grow up, son. You need to move on.”
How can this man be so unfeeling, thought Shane? He remembered this is not the first time his boss had come across with such a harsh demeanor.
And Shane was not the only one to be on the receiving end of the man’s wrath. His best friend in the workplace, Dave, a senior office manager, was once chewed out for forgetting to refill paper in the copier. It wasn’t even his job. At one point, Mr. Sachs jokingly threatened that if he made a careless mistake like that again, he was going to have company security escort Dave down to the basement. He would have him suspended from the ceiling above a vat of boiling oil, in which lived otherworldly demons who liked to have little boys for dinner.
Though at times it seemed Shane got it worst and most often, perhaps because he was one of the younger rookies. But also maybe because Mr. Sachs knew Shane was a newlywed with a new home, and took pleasure in making his life difficult, lest he quit or got fired. Sometimes it appeared the man was inhuman; he truly was the boss from hell.
“I’m sorry,” said Shane. “I can’t stay here and listen to your yapping. I’ve got to go.” And with that, Shane started for the door.
“Hey! Hey, Carver! Where are you going? There’s a lot of work to finish here. What about those shipping orders and reports from last week? I never got ’em."
“I’ll send you an email."
“Mister, don’t you walk away from me! Get back in here!”
Shane had his hand on the door handle.
“Carver…you leave outta here, don’t think about comin’ back!”
The door was ajar.
“Carver, you hear me? Carver!”
Shane was already halfway out the door. Before he disappeared from sight, he flipped the middle finger of his left hand in his former employer’s direction, which he was certain was clearly seen.
Shane wished the bird was a crow.
Shane moped around the house in a daze, waiting for the love of his life to walk through the front door, when he knows she never will. It was not something Shane was accustomed to, and he doubted he ever would become so. The house was modest at about 1200 square feet, but with Ruth gone, it felt like an endless mansion.
The nights were the very worst of all. Shane had to endure one round after another of quiet darkness. He lay in the bed restlessly, holding onto the mass of pillows that provided the only comfort of thinking Ruth was still with him.
At one point, he could have sworn he felt the soft touch of a hand run through his hair. But it was just one more hallucination…or was it a dream? Nevertheless, Shane felt it was real enough to shock him awake. He awoke in a cold sweat and hit his head on the backboard. Wincing in pain for just a split-second, he was knocked out and fell forward onto the pillows.
When he regained consciousness about an hour later, the hallucination continued, albeit pleasantly. He was confronted by an image of Ruth standing at the foot of the bed. Shane sat up, got to his knees. He was tangled up in the sheets, and it nearly pulled him back. He was afraid he’d hit his head again, and Ruth would be gone, as if the backboard was a toggle switch.
He violently threw the sheets and pillows onto the floor, and then once again gathered on his hands and knees to be next to her. He scrambled to be within an inch of her face. He longed so much to kiss her lips…just once more…to run his fingers through her hair…to feel the touch of her hand. He reached out to hold her, but missed. His hand went right through her.
"Ruth…"
“Shane,” she spoke in a voice that was more misty than corporal, “I’m not really here, but I will always be in your heart. I live in a different place now; a different kind of existence.”
“Please…come back. You can come back to me. We can be together again.”
“No. Shane, listen to me. I love you with all my heart, and because of that, I need you to be happy, here on Earth."
“Wha—?”
“I want you to find someone to spend your life with. I don’t want you to be lonely.”
“No, I can’t. I only want you.”
“I am sorry. You cannot. Not until your time comes and you can be like me and join me. It is time for you to move on. Find someone to share your life with.”
“No. I refuse to look for anyone else.”
“You must. If you don’t, you will die inside while you are still alive.”
“So be it. Without you, I feel like I’m already dead.”
“Goodbye, Shane. Remember what I said. Be happy here on Earth.”
And with that, the hologram that was Ruth dissipated into the air.
“No! Ruth, don’t go!” Shane shouted into an empty room. As he reached out to grab her, he fell off the bed and onto the floor. He got to his knees and continued to try and grab hold of her, but he was clutching nothing. A moment later, his fists drenched, he realized he was clutching his own fallen tears.
Then he woke up, this time for real, and found himself still holding onto a mass of pillows. But the words Ruth had spoken didn’t leave his mind. And at that moment, he vowed to himself never to forget them. Not so much to remember the message, but simply to remember her voice.
The weeks dragged on, followed by the months. Shane worked occasionally at temporary jobs, but was in no mood to concentrate on anything long-term again. Good thing he had a $20,000 savings cushion to help him when needed. Mostly he was just going through the motions of life, but without really living.
He still remained friends with Dave, the guy from his former job. Dave had mentioned to Shane, several times, that he needed to get back into the swing of things if he were to have any hope at all of regaining the joy of life. But the absence of Ruth seemed to be overwhelming. If the obstacle was this insurmountable, Dave could only imagine what it would take for Shane to love again. But it was still worth a shot. It would be a crime against humanity if Shane wound up living the rest of his life in this state. It turns out that Ruth spoke wise words in Shane’s dream.
The rest of his friends and everyone else who knew him agreed that he should work past his grief, move on and find another companion. And they also agreed that Dave should be the one to help him with this, if necessary. He just didn’t know how.
But fate had other plans. It was on his next job assignment that he met her. She was a client (and a bit of a demanding one at that) that Shane was ordered to assist in a home remodel, when he landed a position at an architectural design firm. There were many business lunches and dinners to attend, both with her alone and with other colleagues.
The difficulty arose from her needing to have things just right, and she changed her mind often, when something wasn’t perfect. The carpet or wallpaper color had to match exactly with the main décor of the room, or a window was placed too high or low for her tastes. But Shane had to hold his tongue and keep his opinions to himself, for she was, after all, a client.
Eventually, she began to ease up on her pickiness, when she realized she would rather have the job completed, period, rather than have no mistakes made. Also, the prolonged time to finish the job was taking a toll on her house, with papers and other materials scattered throughout the place. It was putting too much strain on her orderly, cleanliness-centered lifestyle, and the mess was irritating her. She discussed this briefly with Shane during one of their meetings.
The amount of time Shane was spending with her very much surprised him, but only when he stopped to think about it. He apparently was so involved in the work that many days he literally forgot about the misery that was taking up most of his personal life. And the more this melancholy slowly disappeared, the more he started to see her as possibly more than just a business client. He thought, perhaps one day, she might be the answer to what I am supposed to be looking for.
Her name was Myra. She was attractive, with dark hair and eyes, but not a classic beauty like Ruth was. Not that Shane forgot about Ruth. No, he never would.
During one of their appointments together, the conversation slowly turned more personal than expected. She was not married; did not have anyone in her life at the moment. Went through a bitter divorce with an abusive man about a year ago. Moved into her current abode shortly after. Was relatively well off, financially. No kids; didn’t want any. Said they got in the way of work.
A blow to Shane’s dreams. He wanted a family; a large one. And was about to start that endeavor with Ruth when he lost her. Upon further reflection, it came through a revelation that that was one of the major causes of the pain of missing her. His dreams of having a family had vanished in the haze, or so he thought. He didn’t think he could find another person in the world who would love him and take care of him and a family the way Ruth promised to. So Myra doesn’t want children, Shane thought. S’alright, I’m sure I can change her mind or work something out. But I don’t even have her yet. She’s just a business client.
Unless I can change that.
After the home remodeling project was completed, Myra came to the conclusion that the place was just too small for her (and someone else who may come into her life at some point). Shane’s depression over losing Ruth had completely disappeared. The more time he spent with Myra, the more he got close to her as a romantic interest. And this was confirmed one particular night with the help of alcoholic beverages and a period of getting lost in passion. In time, their business relationship faded in favor of a more personal one, though she still maintained ties with the company. But this was going to prove very difficult to juggle.
On one particularly stormy afternoon at the beach, Shane and Myra got caught up in a seaside squall. They were hiding underneath the posts of a dock not far from the café where they had their first date. They were very much taken by surprise, considering there was a cloudless sky when they started.
It was then and there that they were overcome with emotion. They were sure they would lose their balance and tumble down the sandy embankment to the shore below. The waves would crash around them, locking them in an embrace, recreating a classic scene in From Here to Eternity. But Shane wouldn’t let that happen. Ruth was the only woman he swore he would get involved with nautically—or naughtily. He only regrets that he never got the chance to do so, in either case.
And another thing which was tearing him up inside was realizing that he was spending time with another woman, while Ruth was lost in Heaven. Not to mention that he wondered if she had found someone else, as well, frolicking in paradise.
“Your house is finished, you know,” he spoke. “There is no more work to be done. I did everything you wanted.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied. The rain continued to wash down their faces, drench their clothing. She alternately pulled away from him at the same time that she wanted to be close. Their faces stood mere inches from each other.
“It’s just that…now it seems so small…for two or more…”
“What more? You said you don’t have a family; didn’t want one.”
“Yes, I know,” she repeated. “But I’ve been rethinking that lately. I don’t want to be in such a cramped abode the rest of my days, by myself. What if someone doesn’t come along?”
Shane took a step back, looked at her for a moment, and just blinked.
Myra continued, “I mean, someone that I know is right for me, and believes in all the same things I do. Someone who shares all my same hopes and dreams.”
“And I want it, too. Since I lost Ruth, I don’t have very much in my life anymore."
The wooden planks of the dock began to snap and collapse under the weight of the water. Shane and Myra escaped for cover to the safety of a nearby cave in a bluff, just as the entire dock gave way. The crash made Myra wince and turn. She buried her head in Shane’s shoulder. When she looked up, their lips barely touched.
Shane and Myra were married two months later. This was to both the pride and relief of Dave and all the rest of Shane’s friends. They were wondering when he was going to see in Myra what they saw.
They both concluded that Myra’s house was indeed too small. Barely enough for the two of them; crowded for even a family of three. It was not a consideration for them to occupy his home. Too many bad memories from the first union. Not in a million years was Shane about to let another woman sleep next to him in the same bed he shared with Ruth.
So a decision was made that Shane and Myra sell their respective houses, and they would use the money to help buy “a little place all their own.” Strangely, Shane thought that’s what he had with Ruth. Now, however, looking back, perhaps the place was too large—much in the same way Myra’s place was too small.
The first few weeks of married life were filled with all the special little moments of a new life together, and getting to know one another better. Although, Shane was raised to believe that should come before the marriage part. In his first try, he courted Ruth for a year before walking down the aisle with her.
Myra’s need to have things a certain way extended into married life. Cooking receptacles, dishes and utensils were to be placed in a particular way in a particular spot. Items of furniture were placed an exact distance from the wall and from each other. She even retired and arose at precisely the same time each night and day.
But perhaps her strongest rule of thumb revolved around the concept of cleanliness. Myra was the type of person who silently cursed the dishwasher or soap manufacturer if a spot was left on her glasses. Not that she did anything about it. It was enough for her to send a spell through the air. She couldn’t just wash dishes by hand in the sink. She demanded an appliance do what was expected of it.
She had a tiff if someone put a single fingerprint smudge on a window. Heaven help them if they carelessly left behind a streak of dust or a crumb of food on furniture when cleaning up after themselves. And eating was to be done only in the kitchen, dining room or patio. No taking food elsewhere in the house. Bringing a late night snack to bed was to invite the fury which hell hath wrought of a famous scorned feline.
Needless to say, the newlywed couple had few friends or neighbors visit.
Shane told himself that because he bought Myra a home, she should be entitled to keep her things her way. He also told himself that these were just early marriage eccentricities; symptoms of anxiety of a life with someone new. He hoped that, in time, the day-to-day rituals would fall away, and Myra’s neuroses would sail away into the sunset in favor of a life filled with ease.
Easier said than done.
One evening, shortly after the two-month probationary period of their wedded bliss, Shane came home ten minutes late. He told Myra he wanted to have “a night out with the boys.” He said he’d be home by midnight. He waltzed in the door at 12:10. He came in the front door, and stood there swaying for a moment. He was not drunk. He was trying to adjust his eyes to the light. Myra had all the lights on in the living room. She was standing by the fireplace, tapping her foot, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. She looked like a teapot about to boil over, with steam coming out the sides.
“Where the hell were you?” Myra asked calmly. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little after twelve. I told you earlier, I spent the night out with some friends. You look mad. Did I forget to do a chore, or something?”
“You forgot something, alright. You forgot to check your watch.” Shane felt like a youngster being scolded for missing a curfew.
“Look,” he affirmed, “I said I’d be home at midnight, and it’s…it’s a little past midnight.” Shane’s eyes lit up as a revelation hit him. “I don’t believe this! You’re upset over a measly ten minutes?”
“Twelve does not mean 12:10!”
“Are you so critical that you can’t allow a leeway of just a few minutes? Just because you’re so perfect doesn’t mean everyone else has to bow down to your demands.”
Shane regretted those words the moment he said them. He walked toward her with open arms.
“Oh…oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I…”
But it was too late. The teapot had blown its top, and was spewing hot water and steam all over the kitchen counters and floor. Myra turned and stormed toward the master bedroom.
“Oh!” she screamed.
Shane chased after her, but she slammed the door in his face. “Since you like that living room couch in front of the television so much, you can have them both tonight!”
And that was the start of trouble in paradise.
Chapter 3 – Finding Answers
It turns out that Myra’s demanding ways were not a phase; not the growing pains of a new partner. They were part of her character; a reflection of her makeup. He didn’t know if he could live with a person like that for the rest of his life.
All of the memories of the pain of missing Ruth came flooding back. He missed her and wanted her back now more than ever.
In time, he learned to make up excuses to not be home with Myra all the time when he didn’t have to. He lied when he said he was being made to stay late at work. He made it a point to make more friends, just so he could be with them more than her, such as having more nights out with the boys—although, he henceforth made sure to avoid his ‘curfew’ mistake.
On the rare occasion when he did make a mistake—which meant a mistake to Myra—he quickly and profusely apologized, for he did not want his own world to come crashing down, for one night anyway.
He had to remember not to leave a single item of clothing lying carelessly about. “Worn and dirty clothing must be placed in the hamper at once. We don’t want germs crawling around in my house.”
My house. Rules Abound. And Shane knew what that spelt. Trouble.
In hindsight, Shane knew he should have learned all he could about this woman before committing to a life with her. Her demands when having her smaller house built should have been a clear clue. But Ruth’s request for Shane to find someone to be with, combined with his desire to get over her clouded the picture. He rushed into this union, in haste, unlike with Ruth.
He knew he should be the man in this thing, but in time, it seemed more and more like Myra was taking over the relationship, smothering him like a praying mantis, and setting him up for the end all. He probably has had his head bitten off more times than he can remember, only to have it spit back out and fitted on again for the next hunt.
Before too long, it felt like he was walking on eggshells around her, afraid to utter a word or commit a deed. It might be the next big mistake. Eventually things got to a point where they were barely speaking. He called her hypercritical; she said he was too immature and overly sensitive.
Shane wondered some nights, lying awake in bed, if it were better to seek a divorce, chalk this one up to a lesson learned, and begin looking for that someone new Ruth mentioned all over again, this time with better forethought.
One Saturday, Myra asked Shane to go to a store to pick up a special bottle of wine, and packages of crackers and cheeses. She was going to entertain some friends the next day. It was such a nice day out, that Shane decided not to return home right away. That amounted to a cardinal sin, but he didn’t care.
The place she sent him to was a bit out of the way, and on his drive home, he passed what appeared to be an amusement carnival or fair. It was an event he hadn’t partaken of since a young child, and he concluded that he deserved to enjoy an occasional diversion of joy in his life. The wine would stay safe in the car, and would be refrigerated at once upon returning home.
Shane passed by an exhibit manned by a gentleman in an outfit somewhat resembling a court jester’s costume. It came complete with striped parachute pants and a pointy top hat and cloak, adorned with images of moons and stars.
He noticed a small crowd gathered around the booth, being amused with tricks performed by the clown. After the crowd thinned away, he walked up to the man and asked him if he was a real magician. The guy said that yes, he was.
“I am a sorcerer,” was the explanation he gave. “I know long-forgotten secrets of the masters, taught by my father, that were taught by his father, and so on. You are new to me, so you get one wish. You should make it worth your while, and tell me before sundown. What is your wish, my good man? Do you need some time to think it over?”
“Perhaps…” Shane’s mind raced for a moment, and then he changed his stance. “No, wait, I do know what I want. I now know for sure.”
“Come this way, sir, while we chat in private,” he told Shane as he led him into a tent. The rest of the fair was going on its normal, merry way, without so much as an eyebrow raised. Shane did not want anyone to see him going into the tent, lest they think he was one more ruse of a charlatan.
Shane knew he had nothing to lose, for the worst that could happen was…nothing.
The man directed Shane to sit across from him at a small table inside. It was covered with a tablecloth that had the same celestial gems as the man’s hat and cloak. There was a crystal ball in the middle of the table. It had been placed on a pedestal, and Shane suddenly got the feeling he was about to get his fortune read…for a fortune.
The gentleman slid the ball off to the side as if he was passing it off as a worthless tool. Instead, he took hold of Shane‘s hands in his, and he looked into his eyes. “I can tell there is something deeply troubling you, my young man,” he said. “Something has gone very wrong in a close relationship, and you are very unhappy.”
“Yes!” exclaimed Shane. “How did you know that? How can you tell? We just met…”
“Don‘t worry,” the man said. “The old and the wise know much. I can feel your life force. I can tell you have had someone new come into your life, which you are not happy with. You know not how to deal with it, and it is not easy to get rid of. I also know you have lost someone very close to you that you wish to have back. Do I speak the truth, thus far?”
“Exactly. Can you—”
“What is this wish you desire me to grant unto you? You said you knew what you wanted.”
“Can you make someone change their ways? Can you change someone to be a different person?” Shane asked.
“It may…just may be possible. But it is extremely difficult. One cannot simply go in and change a person. Especially without their knowledge or consent. What is it exactly you would have me do? Tell me why you are so unhappy.”
Shane started to pour his heart out to the old man. At one point he even started to cry, which he knew he should not do, being a man. But he did not care who knew; his soul was hurting. He spilled everything in detail, from the beginning, up to the point where he started finding excuses to not spend time with Myra in an effort to avoid her.
The marriage had turned into a union only in substance, and not in form. There was no love or passion anymore. They were staying together just to have a place for each of them to live. And the time was slowly but surely coming that each of them would have to admit that it was over. Each partner would go their separate ways and admit defeat.
“I am sorry,” the magician said, “but I cannot repair a broken union. It takes two persons to make, and it is difficult enough trying to change one person. Two is like changing the universe.”
One last tear ran down Shane’s cheek as he realized that this was the second marriage of his that would have to end.
“Is there anything else I may do for you? Anything at all?”
“No…not really,” Shane said, as he started to get up and head for the door. “Not unless you can bring my first wife back from the dead. That would completely erase my unhappiness.”
“I am sorry,” the man said. “I may be able to do many things, but even I am not the Grand Creator. There are some things that are beyond even my abilities.” The gentleman began tidying up a bit around his tent as Shane started for the exit. The old man, in straightening up knick-knacks on a low table, caught sight of a small box. He had not had anything to do with in a very long time; indeed, he thought he had lost it. A broad smile crossed his heart inside, as he instantly recalled what it was. Inside was a tool that allowed entrance to the afterlife. He did not want Shane to get away.
“Young man, wait!” he called out. “Stop! Please come back.”
Shane stopped short in his tracks so abruptly he thought his heart would stop from the shock. He turned and saw the old man leaning forward, complete with his long, gray, scraggily beard, and motioning with his arm for Shane to return. Shane looked into the old man’s eyes and thought he saw himself as a young boy. It must be a trick, he mused.
“What is it, wise one? Can you help me, after all?”
“Perhaps. Come in, my son, come in.”
Shane sauntered into the space, wary of coming away empty-handed again.
The old man held the box gently but firmly as he looked into Shane’s eyes. “I cannot change the ways that a person is. But maybe I can bring back a lost someone.”
“You can bring back my wife?! I would be forever grateful—”
“Shh! Shhhh…not so loud!” the man whispered. “We don’t want word to get out. I am not supposed to tell this, and I don’t even know if it will work.”
“I’ll pay anything,” said Shane, jumping up and down inside like a child eager to open a Christmas present. “What’s in the box? What’cha got?”
The man set the box on the table and slowly opened it up to reveal a shiny, yellow crystal. Shane thought it was going to blind him. “This is Heaven’s Tear. Be very, very careful with it, as it is very, very powerful.”
“What does it do? Where did you get it?”
“I cannot tell where it is from, but I will tell you what you do with it. This allows you to enter Heaven—for just a little while, maybe fifteen or thirty minutes—find someone that you want to take away, and bring them back to Earth.”
“You mean I can take my wife back? You better not be joking with me, old man.”
“This is no joke. It works. You can do this. There is only one catch.”
“I knew it. I knew there was something to this.”
“The heavens know how many angels they have. You must find someone to put in her place.”
Shane immediately thought of his boss, and then changed his mind in favor of Myra. He was disgusted with himself. Love her or not, she was still his wife, and should not wish her dead. But still, the love was hardly there in a marriage practically nonexistent. And oftentimes, Myra did not behave like an equal, loving partner in a blissful relationship. He decided to bring up the subject, merely out of curiosity.
“Suppose I find someone to put in another’s place in Heaven. Then what? How am I to convince them to be a martyr and die for this cause, selfish as it may be?”
“You don’t have to do any convincing. I will teach you all you need to know.”
“How am I ever going to repay you? What do you want out of this?”
“I don’t want anything for this deed. But there is a secret I wish you to keep for me.”
“I am good at keeping secrets.”
“Do you know my name?”
Shane thought about this for a moment. “No…no, I don’t.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Chapter 4 – Trapped in Paradise
Shane walked in the door about six o’clock. Myra was reading in the living room. She got up from her chair. “I was wondering when you’d decide to return. Did you get my wine?”
“I have it right here.” Not much of the chill had faded. “It can stay nice and cold in the fridge until tomorrow night.” Your majesty, he added, to himself.
“Well, thank you for the favor. I’m tired and thinking of going to bed early tonight. Your dinner is in the oven.”
Myra isn’t tired, Shane thought. She’s just irritated that I came home late. She’s resorting to one of her moods to voice her displeasure. Shane put the bottle of wine upright on the top shelf of the refrigerator. It was merely an attempt to convince Myra that he cared enough to take care of her prized possession. He placed it prominently where she could easily see it.
He then opened up the door to the oven and found a TV dinner, still wrapped in the foil. She couldn’t even place it on a glass plate; she has to treat me like a child.
Shane ate his dinner of cold meat loaf and mashed potatoes with a carefully determined focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the old man at the fair and the crystal in his jacket pocket. After finishing his supper, and washing and drying his hands, he fingered it for a few moments, letting it roll around his hand. He then took it out and studied it more closely. He expected to find an engraving that read Made in China on the underside. But it was perfectly clear, without so much as a nick or scratch. He wondered how this simple thing could bring someone back from the other side. It must have magical properties, or something, he thought.
Shane climbed into bed at eight, but couldn’t sleep a wink for hours. He was contemplating whether to try the trick that night, or if he should wait. If he waited too long, he feared the crystal would lose its luster. He thought there was a certain amount of magic inside that had to be used quickly. Also, there was a chance he could lose the thing if he held onto it for too long. And worst of all, Myra might find it, consider it one of his useless toys, and discard it.
At exactly midnight, Shane was still wide-awake. Myra was fast asleep next to him. Shane sat up on his elbows and looked to his right to do a quick double-check. It’s now or never, he thought. Following the instructions explicitly from his sorcerer friend, he took the crystal from his pajama top’s shirt pocket. He held it from the cord running through the hole in the top. He stood by the edge of the bed where Myra slept and dangled it over her head. It swayed gently in the breeze coming through the window.
Myra stirred gently, as if she was about to awaken, but Shane was told this was to be expected. Myra stayed asleep. Suddenly, her eyes popped open. Myra was still fast asleep, but Shane didn’t know this. He wasn’t told about this part.
“Myra, are you awake? I…I’m sorry, dear. I can explain.”
The crystal began to glow, slowly at first. Shane was sure everything was working just as it was supposed to. Before he knew it, the immediate environment around Shane and Myra was completely different. Everything was cloudy and surreal. Shane knew he had made it; he was in Heaven with her. Now all he had to do was find Ruth and leave out of there before the crystal’s magic wore out.
“Shane…what’s going on?” asked Myra. “Where are we?”
“It’s all right. You’re dreaming.”
“This is all a dream?”
“Yes, honey. C’mon, let’s take a walk.”
“You wanna go for a walk?”
“Yes,” affirmed Shane. “We’ve been going through some tough times lately, and I don’t want this to be the end. The end of us.”
“Yes, I agree. We need to talk some things over.”
Myra saw the crystal in Shane’s hand. “What’s that?” she asked.
He looked down. “Oh, just a little trinket I had in my pocket.”
That was a little too close for comfort. Shane had to look for something—quick—to distract Myra, while he looked for Ruth. And there, right in front of him, he stumbled upon a garden.
“Hey, I know you like flowers,” he called to her as he trounced ahead. “You’re into roses, right?”
“Oh, you know me. Roses are so common. I’m more of a daisy kind of gal.”
Shane went right to work picking daisies that appeared before him, as if Myra’s wish made them materialize. He gathered about a dozen, which he brought to her. Myra admired and got to know each one, like she had a dozen children at her beck and call.
With Myra kept busy for the moment, Shane gazed into the crystal. “Come on, Ruth! Where are you?” he cried. The crystal appeared cloudy. He thought all hope was lost. Then the cloud began to disappear in favor of a clearer image. It was a human form, but Shane couldn’t yet make out what it was.
Then he saw her, clear as day. It was Ruth. He knew she had to be somewhere nearby. He saw a shadowy form out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, and she was right there. She was by the roses. Maybe Shane mentioned roses earlier because he thought all women liked them. Then again, he saw Ruth in everyone. Except for Myra.
“Ruth. Oh, Ruth…”
“Shane,” she said. “How did you…what are you doing here?”
“Shh,” he said. “I honestly thought I’d never see you again. You look just the same as I remembered.”
“Shane, you didn’t…die…did you?”
“No, nothing like that.” He made a show of twirling the crystal around his hands.
“What’s going on?”
“I summoned you here. I’ve come to take you back.”
“Take me back? What do you mean? How can you—?”
“Shh,” Shane said again. “Don’t ask questions. You’re going to have to trust me on this one. I think I can do it.”
“Shane?” called out Myra’s voice. “Who are you talking to?”
Shane felt the panic rise in his throat. “Myra…this is Ruth. You remember me telling you about her, right?” Myra’s eyes went icy cold for a moment.
“Hello,” Ruth greeted Myra. “And who might you be?”
“I’m his wife, honey.”
Myra pulled Shane off to the side for a moment. “What’s she doing in my dream?” she whispered loudly to him.
“I have no idea. Pretty wild, huh?”
“Can you get rid of her?”
“Okay, look, can I please just go and talk to my friend for a few minutes? Please? And I’ll come right back to you. I swear that nothing is going on with me and her—in make believe or in real life.”
Myra threw her hands up. “Oh, alright. Go have fun with your friend for awhile, then come right back. I’ll busy myself somehow.”
Shane went back again to where Ruth was standing by the roses. “Ruth…Ruth, dear,” he said. “I need you to listen to me. We don’t have much time.”
“Shane, I’m scared. I don’t like this. What are you doing?”
“Ruth, just trust me. Hold on to me. Put your arms around me.”
Ruth interlocked her arms tightly around Shane’s neck. With one arm around her waist, Shane dangled the crystal over Ruth’s head, just as he had done to Myra. And he dreamed of home. Before he knew it, he was back in his home. In his bedroom. Alive on Earth.
Ruth released her grip. “What happened? Where am I?” she asked. She then noticed something exhilaratingly different. She went to a mirror on a far wall. Ruth saw herself complete as ever. “Oh…oh, my…my God, I don’t believe this.” She felt her stomach; her thighs. “It’s me! I’m whole again! I’m alive!”
Ruth threw her arms around Shane in a tight bear hug. “Oh, you did it, baby! I don’t know how, but you did it. I’m alive on Earth again. Thank you, thank you! Now we can be together again.”
“Yes, we’re together again! I told you I’d do it!” Shane exclaimed joyfully. “Now we can live the rest of our lives as we were meant to be.”
Ruth smiled at her former long-lost husband. She looked around. “Shane, where are we? Whose home is this? Is this…hers? Where is she, Shane?”
Shane was so lost in the ecstasy of having Ruth back that he completely forgot about Myra. He held up the crystal. “She’s in here.”
“She’s WHAT? You killed someone else to have me back?”
“You have to understand, honey. It was the only way. I needed to have you back in my life. I told you that in my dream. And you told me to look for someone else, remember? And I really tried. But life with her was very stressful. I missed you so much, and the magician who gave me the gift said this was the only way. You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No. No, not at all. I’m glad I’m back.” She hugged him once again. “But what will become of her? Will she linger in Heaven for all eternity?”
“Not if I can help it. It’s only temporary. Sure, she was a handful to deal with at times, but she didn’t have to die for it. As soon as I find someone else who is more deserving, I will bring her back.”
“Does she know where she is?”
“I don’t think so. I told her she’s having a dream.”
“She must be told, Shane. You owe her that much. Sooner or later she will find out the truth when she doesn’t awaken.”
“Oh, okay, I suppose you’re right. She has to know.”
Shane walked to the bedroom window and looked outside at the world. He realized it was unfair that he was viewing the world as part of the living, when Myra was caught in another world entirely.
He held up the crystal and called out to Myra. Myra was having fun in the garden playing 'fetch the acorn' with a squirrel. But, of course, the acorn never came back. She expected to rejoin Shane on their walk any minute now, after he was finished talking with Ruth. She heard her name being called—as an echo, from all around. She looked up and realized something was terribly wrong. She called out to Shane.
“Shane? Shane, where are you? Come back, please.”
“Myra, listen to me.” The voice boomed down from the heavens—literally. “Listen—you aren’t dreaming. You are in Heaven. I put you there. I had to in order to take back Ruth. And you have to stay there for awhile.”
“Shane? Shane, don’t do this to me! I don’t deserve this! I’m sorry. What did I do to you?”
“I’m sorry, too, Myra. I couldn’t take my life with you the way it was. And I missed Ruth so much. I just had to have her back.”
“NO, please! I’m sorry! I’ll change my ways. Things will be different.”
“I have to go, Myra. I will try to find someone to take your place. It won’t be long.”
“Shane, no! Take me back, please. Don’t leave me here to die. Take me back!”
Shane waltzed into his old job an hour late. This was the fourth time this month. Since getting Ruth back, he vowed to spend as much time with her as possible. Even if it meant jeopardizing his employment again. He sat down at his desk and looked over the mounds of paperwork he could never seem to finish working on, for Mr. Sachs kept piling it on each day.
“So nice of you to decide to finally join us today, Mr. Carver,” Mr. Sachs retorted sarcastically. “Have you been spending time again with your reincarnated wife? I would love to meet her one of these days. Maybe she can charm us with one of her freaky ghost stories from Heaven.” Lawrence Sachs chuckled to himself as he passed by Shane’s cubicle.
Shane was getting tired of these snide remarks from his superior. But ultimately, he knew he would have to hold his tongue and practice tolerance, lest he needed to look for other work again. And that was not so easy the first time around after Ruth had died. But one of these days, Shane thought to himself, the man is going to go too far, and I refuse to be responsible for my actions.
The very next week, at the Christmas office party, Mr. Sachs wasted no time in belittling Shane for all his small mistakes. Honest errors that could have been anyone’s; some no fault of his own. Missing a meeting with a client because of a misplaced request form. Being accused of payroll fraud when the mistake was later found to be with the payroll department itself.
“Why do you insist on making a fool of yourself like this in front of everyone?” Shane asked Lawrence in the presence of the crowd.
“It’s just so easy…and fun,” he answered. “But if it’s not to your liking, you are always free to leave the job. Nothing is keeping you here.”
You’re right, Shane thought. Nothing is keeping me here…except the fact that I have to make a living. Just as you do…for a company studying Life and Death.
Shane appeared to be Lawrence’s favorite target, coming across as more like a bully than anything else. Perhaps Lawrence thought Shane had nothing to fight back with. But he would soon find out that he’d be wrong. Dead wrong.
Shane didn’t say a word in response to Mr. Sach’s rants. Didn’t have to. He knew exactly what he had to do in order to end his problem.
Shane eyed his boss up and down with a sinister smile on his face. In his pocket, he gently rolled a small, yellow object between his fingers.
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© 2010, by Scott Gould
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