Thief (43 page)

The memory of her, brought the pain back, as he thought of being without her for eternity. Her face was fresh in his mind as he lay there, the tears she had cried as he died in front of her. He would have given anything to dry those tears, to bring back the smile and the joy. Instead he wept his own.

It was finally too late.

A sound drew him out of his thoughts, and brought him back to this new world. Yet he really didn’t want to pay it any mind. He just wanted to grieve for so much that had been lost. But something within him made him respond, made him sit up and take heed. With so much of his heart and soul in chaos, the thief had returned bringing him back to awareness. It alone of all of him would struggle on no matter how badly the rest of him was hurt. At least he finally knew that the thief was a part of him. The thief was his will. Disciplined, emotionless, logical and above all stubborn, the thief was what ran him beyond his limits, beyond his pain, beyond all understanding. The thief alone kept him from breaking down, kept him moving. Doing what had to be done.

Was this Heaven he wondered? Or something beyond what man had imagined? It didn’t really matter. It seemed wonderful, and surely wasn’t hell. He would survive. The thief at least would live. But what of Sherial? What of those he supported? A great sadness filled him. This might be heaven, but he wasn’t ready for it. The irony was that it was only now that he was dead that he understood how much he wanted to live.

What else was there to do? Only the thief could find an answer. Or at least something to do. Look around. The thief broke free of his malaise, long enough to look for the source of the sound that had disturbed him. He didn’t have to look far.

Maybe thirty feet away, a gardener was cultivating a rose border, his claw breaking and loosening the soil so the plants could extend their roots to the richer soils far below. He was a young man, perhaps in his mid twenties, but for all that a true gardener. He looked at home among the plants, the claw a natural extension of his hand, which he used with a deft action that spoke of much practice. His face showed great peace and satisfaction as he worked. His garden was blooming.

It could have been any gardener and any garden, but considering where he surely was, Mikel had a horrible feeling he knew who the gardener must be. It scared him as nothing else could. But it also amazed him and gave him hope.

Eventually he gathered enough of his wits about him to realize he should visit the gardener. How else would he know what he was supposed to do here? Besides he was absolutely certain he was expected to. Why else would he be here?

“Umm, ahh Hello?” The words just died on his tongue as he tried to think of something, anything to say. But what do you say at times like these? He didn’t have a clue. He knew what he wanted, and he guessed that they were within the bounds of the gardener, but he didn’t have a clue how to ask. It didn’t matter either. He somehow gathered that there was nothing at all he could say that would matter at all in this place.

The gardener looked up at him from his work, and smiled. A smile that spoke of galaxies spinning slowly, of endless time and space, of infinite patience and wisdom, and above all else of love. He knew of Mikel’s pain, he knew everything, and there was in his eyes something that said it would be okay. But he said nothing, just nodded to a hoe beside him and indicated that Mikel join him.

Obediently Mikel picked up the hoe, surprised at the solid feel of the implement. Somehow he had expected it to be more gossamer like in this fairy garden. Instead it was exactly like the garden tools Cedric and he used in his home. Well worn, wooden handled and well looked after. He held it before him in appreciation, feeling the quality flowing through his hands, and then approached the rose border, drinking in its beauty. Flowers of the deepest hues, leaves glowing with vitality, and air laden with the heady scents of roses assailed him. This garden truly was paradise.

What was there for him to do here? It was perfection already.

He noticed a number of small weeds creeping their way in to the rich soil and placed the hoe against them to dig them out. But even as the edge of the hoe hit the rich earth he cried out in sudden shock. For the earth, the weeds weren’t that at all. They were people. Not even one or two people, but millions upon millions of souls, all crying out to him. The force of their cry was terrible. It ripped through him like the loudest opera he’d ever heard, laying him open for the world to see.

He jumped backwards instinctively, and then stared at the garden, barely understanding what it actually was, but utterly certain of one thing. His unworthiness to tend it. For this garden was in some strange and terrible way the universe. It made no sense and yet it was true. He gaped at it for the longest time, unsure of anything else he had ever known, but knowing that one thing.

Gingerly, Mikel laid down the hoe on the grass beside the garden, unsure whether it too might be alive. He understood little of what had just happened, and that little was far more than he had ever anticipated, and far more than he could stand. For if he knew anything at all, it was that he would never tend that garden. How could he pull out weeds when they were in fact millions of lost souls? How could he even trim dead leaves or anything else for that matter?

This was not a job any man could ever be worthy of. Least of all him. And yet it didn’t bother him that he could not ever have done this work; it was simply not part of who and what he was. This was not work for mere mortals to engage in, not even megalomaniacs. It wasn’t even work for angels or titans. There could ever only be one gardener.

“I am sorry”. And even as he said it he was unsure whether he was sorry that he could not help in this work, or in that he had failed the Lord with so much of his life. Perhaps they were the same thing. He bowed his head in shame, but somehow he also knew the gardener had not expected him to be able to help. For Mikel too was but a single cell in one of those plants. His purpose had been to teach him, not to use his services. And the lesson was simple. He could not judge what was completely beyond his comprehension.

Looking around he understood that these gardens, these grassy hills and whatever lay on the other sides of them, were in some way the universe. And it was beautiful.

There were lovely flower gardens festooning the hillsides, great stands of trees, and shrubbery’s without number. It was well tended and well laid out in a seemingly random pattern that somehow had an order too it. It was a place where lovers might come to enjoy a picnic, where birds and small animals would play, where children would come and pick flowers for their hair. And it was a garden that was still growing. He saw that clearly. It was far from finished. Over time the plantings would change, the layout might move, and the trees already tall would become massive. It was still a young garden with endless possibilities before it.

Above all it was a credit to the gardener, and he gave thanks for being allowed to visit it, as well as to be a part of it. He knew he was never going to be able to tend it, but he could at least appreciate its splendour. Which he understood, was the reason he was being shown it. To know that there was a purpose, a destination, for himself, for all life. He might not understand it, no mortal could. But it was there. He gave thanks again.

“Mikel”.

He turned quickly, knowing with sudden blossoming joy who had spoken even though she had never uttered a word. Sherial was with him in the garden, in all her glory. The instant he felt her, he reached for her with his all and they quickly became one again. She was with him again in his heart and soul. Her wings shone in the sunshine, her halo extended around her like a super nova, and her love overpowered him. Moreover he dimly understood Sherial was speaking in the same way she always had, but now he was finally communicating with her fully. He understood everything she said, everything she meant, everything she felt and was. As Sherial understood him. It was a gift.

“Sherial”, he screamed her name and ran to her, overjoyed to know the wonder of her again as he crushed her in his arms. The feel of her soft skin, the smell of her infinitely sweet perfume, the touch of her cheek against his. Her warmth against his flesh. It was a miracle beyond his understanding. He had almost accepted that his life, this after life would be a barren desert, lived without her, and now here she was and he knew there was no way he could ever live apart. It was almost too much to bear, yet he would not let go.

“Thank God!” and then as he held her he realized what he’d said. “Thank you Lord.” He should have realized that an angel could go where a mortal couldn’t, even to the lands of the dead. Tears of joy ran uncontrollably down his cheeks and he gave not a toss as he kissed her endlessly. Vaguely he wondered how he could possibly be doing this when he was certain he had no physical body left, but it was irrelevant in the wonder that was. Nothing else could ever matter.

“I thought I’d lost you.” And as he spoke the words he knew again how much he’d nearly lost. And how much Sherial must have nearly lost too. For he finally understood they were joined. He had lost his heart and soul to her; she in turn had given hers to him. Neither could ever live as an entire person alone again, but together they were greater than the sum of their parts.

Mikel squeezed her tight, wanting with all his being to have her inside him forever. Sherial held him with every bit as much passion. He wanted to tell her everything that had been, to share his wonder and understanding with her, but words became unimportant in their need to be together. To be one again, body and soul. Together they felt the first stirrings of physical desire, which quickly became rivers raging through them, then torrential floods, sweeping aside everything before them.

In seconds they were tearing at each other’s clothes, a barrier between them and paradise, and he was laying her gently down on the soft grass, nothing else important. All he could think about was making love to her, here in the Lord’s sight, so he could give them his blessing. Or then again was that Sherial’s thought? It became so hard to tell where one began and the other ended. That was a large part of the joy.

“I love you.” Neither was sure who had spoken if either had, but both agreed completely. Bodies and souls joined in an exquisite dance of love, while all around them the garden sang of its own love, supporting them, encouraging them, adding its own joy. As he moved inside her, Mikel felt her moving inside him, until it became unclear who was who. It was also unimportant. Dimly he or she realized that this was completely impossible, that they couldn’t be making love without flesh and blood, but then again obviously they could.

The moment came and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced. For instead of a physical thing, or even a closeness of their hearts and minds, together they shared the wonder of the universe as it streamed through them both. For a brief moment Mikel and Sherial together understood everything there was to know. The meaning of life, the questions of life before and after death, and the origin of the universe, and yet none of it mattered by comparison with the glory in their arms.

The knowledge vanished like water through a sieve but the love remained.

Afterwards as they lay in each other’s arms in heaven all he could think was that he could never be happier than right at this moment. Nor could he ever stand to be apart from her. Mikel wasn’t alone in that either. It was going to be difficult he guessed when Sherial had to return to the Earth to carry out her duties while he remained here in the lands of the dead. And what he wondered would he do here? What would he do alone? Though it was selfish, he suddenly knew he didn’t want her to leave, ever.

“You’re not dead.” Her thoughts confused him, but not as much as what lay behind them. “You’re just on the edge, awaiting a decision.” For the first time there was another feeling in this paradise, an emotion he almost didn’t recognize, worry. For the first time ever, Sherial was worried.

At first he didn’t understand, the concept meaning nothing at all too him. Then he did and her words, her thoughts suddenly terrified him, for what lay behind them was too horrible to contemplate. If he wasn’t all the way dead then there was still a chance he could lose her when he passed the rest of the way through. More than a chance he realized, Sherial was sure. All the warmth of what had been vanished in a single instant as terror took him by the throat. It took them both, as they discovered a fear shared could be a fear multiplied. All reason fled as suddenly neither knew what to do.

“Lord.” In an instant he was begging, knowing that to lose her now would be hell in truth. And yet he knew there was nothing he could do. His body was destroyed, no doubt rotting by that lovely pool, but hopefully in time giving up its nutrients to sustain other creatures. He didn’t miss it except for the fact that he couldn’t live with Sherial without it. More importantly, Sherial might not live without him. He had to be somewhere for her to be with him.