Just Like Heaven (10 page)

“Have you ever loved anyone? Do you know what it feels like to lose someone you care about?”

The
image
of a wake appear
ed on the
screen
: Nick, wearing a black suit and red tie, walked up to a mahogany podium. Beautiful flowers filled two enormous vases on either side of him on a beig
e carpeted stage. A statue of Jesus crucified on a cross hung behind him. Nick
looked out at over one hundred guests seated
on hard wooden benches inside a
church. Then he lowered his head. “My father was not a perfect man. He made mistakes.
But he tried. He never stopped trying to be a good father.
My mother…” His voice cracked. He cl
eared his throat, hardening his expression. “
She loved more than she was loved. It isn’t fair. But
then
life isn’t fair, now is it?
”

Nick grasped hold of the podium, once more lowering his head. He took a few deep breaths then looked up again at the crowd. “The man that took their lives was drunk. And he decided to get in his car and go for a ride. He killed my parents. But I don’t blame him.” He
scowl
ed as he lifted his head to the ceiling: above him
, in an ornate mural,
angels floated through
puffy clouds in a blue sky
. “I blame you. You le
t that man get in his car and cr
ash into them.
You killed my parents.
If you’re so powerful, you could have stopped him.
But you let it happen anyway.
Do you hear me
up there
? I blame you.”

The picture paused on the image of Nick glaring skyward.

“
So when you’re not questioning God,
” Roland said,
“
you’re blaming Him. But I have to ask: if you don’t believe in Him, why do you blame Him? If He doesn’t exist, are you just using the Lord as a scapegoat?”

Nick didn’t have an answer for that. It had never really occurred to him to ask that question. At the podium, he just needed to rage at someone, and standing in a house of worship, it seemed natural to accuse God of allowing his parents to die.

“
And who did you blame for this?” Roland asked, gesturing toward the screen.

Nick staggered
as he
picked up a landline phone at a party and
dialed
.
“Hey, bro,” he said slurring those two simple words.
“
I’m totally trashed. Could you pick me up?”

“Again?”
asked
the voice on the other end. “How many times
is this?
Twenty? Thirty? I
miss Mom, too, but you don’t see me getting shitfaced all the time, do you?”

“Of c
ourse not. Not the good brother. Not the perfect son
.”

Harold
sighed into the phone. “Where are you?”

Nick relayed the address. “
That’s a good brother,” he said
in
a condescending tone.
He hung up and veer
ed
through a large family room
toward the few dozen people dancing
to the beat-thumping rap song,
“The Way I Am” by Eminem.

He raised his hands above his head, shaking his body to the beat and joining a few girls who danced together, oblivious
to their disgusted expressions.
“Come on, ladies. Shake it. Ha-ha.”

They disbanded, leaving Nick alo
ne and looking for
a dancing partner
. He wandered between couples
, found a beer bottle, shook it and smiled. He pressed it to his lips and gulped it down. Then he tossed the bottle on a sofa beside two girls making out, who shouted curse words at him as he walked away.

The scene fast-forwarded
,
showing Nick doing a few more shots,
and
hitting on girls who winced each time he
approached them. Then he
made his way out of the house and down the
porch
ste
ps and
into t
he night. W
isps
of cold air
escaped his mouth as he
watched Harold’
s
r
ed Ford Mustang pull to a stop in the middle of the street.

The passenger door opened. His brother
leaned over the other seat, waving at him.

“There’s my little brother, always doing the right thing.” Nick
hobbled over
,
threw himself into the car
, and
slammed the door. “Hey, bro. Thanks for coming.”

With th
ick, disheveled blond hair, his seventeen-year old
brother tightened his
pale
lips to keep from speaking.
The circles around Harold’s
eyes revealed that he had jumped out of bed to pick up his brother.

“What’s a matter?
” Nick asked.
“
I
’m thanking you.
”

“You’re welcome.
”

“My brother,
Mr. Perfect
–
coming to the aid of his screwed up older brother. I bet you’ve inspired countless Hallmark cards.”

“Knock it off. You’re acting like a jackass.
You’re better than this.”

“I don’t even have to look at you to know you’re lying. What I don’t get is why you care.”

“I don’t either.”

Nick’s smile widened. “See? Honesty. Hallelujah.”

His brother turned and grinned. Then bright
lights shin
ed through the windshield. A second later, a truck slammed head-on right into them.
Through the smoke and
blinking interior lights of the Mustang, both N
ick and his brother sat
unconscious.

The scene fast-forwarded then stopped as Nick
jerked awake.
He sucked in a
heap of oxygen and
opened his eyes, but
the headlights blazing through the cracked but intact windshield made
him squint. He pressed a palm to his head, wincing and groaning in pai
n. He rolled to his left to check on Harold. Both of his eyes were closed and he slumped
forward,
his
face bu
ried in
a deployed air bag. Nick
reached out with his left hand and patted his brother’s shoulder.

When
Harold
didn’t stir, Nick nudged him a little harder. “Wake up. We got into an accident.” He cringed with worry, his breath coming thick and heavy. “Ha
rold, come on.” He unbuckled his
seat belt and pressed a finger to his brother’s neck.
“What the hell!
” He shifted in his seat and inspected the other side of his brother’
s throat
.

Harold’s neck flopped to the side
and sagged onto his shoulder, a sign that his neck
was broken.
 

Nick snapped back. “
Jesus Christ! Oh, God!” He grabbed hold of Harold’s shirt. “Harold?”
Tears glistened in Nick’s eyes. He shook his brother
. “Harold? Wake up. Come on, wake up
!
”

A man wearing a cowboy hat appeared beside Nick’s window. “Are you all…Is he okay?”

Nick spun around, slinging tears across his cheeks. “Get an am
bulance, you asshole.” He whirl
ed back to his brother. “Harold? You can’t leave
me. Harold, don’t leave me
.”

The screen turned black. Lights came to life above them.

Nick stared at the blank screen, riveted by what he’d just experienced.
He could still feel the agony of losing his last remaining family member. He felt numb and lifeless, as though he’d stepped outside of his body.

Roland looked at him, waiting for a response.

“Stop looking at me.”

“I’ve got to look somewhere. Besides, you’re the reason I’m here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You ch
ose me for this assignment, Nicholas
. You wanted me to look after you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“To oversee your life. You selected me as your spirit guide.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” he said through barred teeth, his tone both tight and harsh.

“
To help you navigate your life. Through all your ups and downs.”

Nick faced him, pointing a finger in his face. Chords of muscles stood out on his neck. “A lot of good
that did
. You saw what happened. Where were you when my brother died? Or my parents? What about them? Why didn’t you help them?”

“I’m
not their
spirit guide.
I’m yours. They had their own guides.
”

“
So why didn’t they help them
? Why did they let them die?”

“I can’
t answer that. Only your parents and brother can
.”

“Well, they’re not alive anymore, so they can’t answer anything.”

“
Don’t you have any compassion?
Don’t you have any feelings?”
He headed for the door.

“As I re
call, one of the ladies you
romanc
ed asked the same of you.
So do you? Have any feelings?
”

Nick stopped at the door and turned to Roland. “Of course. You’re the one who doesn’t have any feelings, Colonel. You’re the one who watched my brother die, and you didn’t even get rattled. You’re the one without a soul.”

“Oh, so you believe you have a soul.”

“Of course, I do.”

“
Hm
mm. Then where
did you get your soul – if you don’t believe in God?
”

“
That’s not—”

“Yet
upon finding your brother
had passed on
, you called upon God
and Jesus. If you didn’t believe in them, why would you say their names at such a time?”

“I was out of
my mind. I didn’t know what I
w
as
saying.”

Roland walked up to him in powerful strides, face impenetrable. “
I disagree
. You called upon them. There’s a difference. Your voice cracked in agony. You called out for them because you needed their strength to help you endure one of the life’s mos
t painful experiences: losing your
loved one
s
.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve never prayed a day in my life. I never went to church. Everyone says if you d
on’t believe in God or Jesus, you do
n’t
go
to heaven.
So if this is heaven, how can I be here?
How is that possible? Is it a mistake? Is that why I can’t taste a burger? Is that why I can’t smell anything? Is that why I can’t breathe in this place?”

“He wanted you to be here because that’s what you both decided upon. And the reason you don’t taste anything is because, in heaven, you don’t need food. You don’t need
a sense of
smell. And you don’t need to breathe. You’re thinking in terms the human form understands. Do me a favor. Poke yourself.”

“What?”

“Go ahead: poke yourself.
You’d rather not?
Fine. Allow me.” He reached out and jabbed a finger into
Nick’s chest
, but Roland’s
finger
bent into his chest, almost
making his form shimmer.

Nick stood firm, rearing back a fist. “Hey, buddy you better watch it.”

“Did you feel that? The force with which I pushed you would have made you take a step back
– if you were in corporeal form
. But
that didn’t happen. Because that isn’t your human body. That’s down on
e
arth
right now. While your soul
is here with me.”

“In heaven.”

“Indeed. Why would you need to eat or sleep? Heaven is the most perfect place in existence because Go
d made it so. He wanted all of H
is children to return home to a place of beauty and wonder, after having experienced so
many challenges
on
e
arth
.”

Nick had to admit that
e
arth
was not
the
nicest place to live. So that part, about God wanting to make heaven a place of contentment, rang true to him
–
if there was a God
. Come to think of it,
Nick hadn’t felt hunger pains in some time
. So the logic of not needing to eat or sleep made sense. If his spirit, not his body, traveled to heaven, why would he need to eat or sleep? It would be unnecess
ary. After all, humans only eat food
to
use those vitamins, minerals, protein, etc. to use in th
e form of energy. And they sleep
in order to restore bodily functions. If he didn’t exist in human form, he wouldn’t need to eat or sleep.