Heaven and Hell (31 page)

“But not about this. Never about this,” deduced Elizabeth. “Why is that?”

This time, Chris didn’t reply.

“Had you considered that God himself was communicating something to thee through these dreams?”

“No,” objected Chris, who definitely wanted out of this conversation at this point. “Why would He do that? I think it was a fragment of a memory, one that I shouldn’t have had, but did. I was holding on to something, someone, who I shouldn’t have been hanging on to. They were a part of my life on Earth, but not here. My mother told me that this happens sometimes. When I was finally willing to let go, I was freed of it. Now, finally, I am at peace.”

Elizabeth motioned to Chris to sit once more. He hesitated, then complied.

“My brother, listen to yourself for a moment. What you have said makes no sense. Everything happens for a purpose, both on Earth and in Heaven. I know that there are memories from our earthly existence that have been lost to us. Believe me when I tell thee that these things have been done for our benefit. God, in His wisdom, spares us the pain of living through eternity with the knowledge of tragedies for which we can not change the outcomes.”

“I know,” interjected Chris, “like lost ones that we will never see again because they’ve been sentenced to Hell.”

“Among other things,” confirmed Elizabeth. “But allow me to continue. We do not serve a God of confusion. If you had a fragment of a memory, it wasn’t an oversight on God’s part. It is in God’s plan that it was so. Your mother was right; such things do happen, but you have not dealt with this thing as you should. You have set it aside rather than deal with it.”

If Chris wasn’t confused before, he was now. He thought that the entire matter had been solved months ago, but apparently it had not. “OK, so what do I do now?”

“I think you know the answer to that question.”

“Ask God?”

Elizabeth nodded. “All things begin and end with Him. God holds thy answers. Perhaps this memory has been left with you to see if you will bring it before the Father. He has been waiting for you to bring it before Him personally.”

That possibility had never crossed his mind. “You’re saying it’s a test?”

“No,” was the reply. “I tell thee that it might be a test. I know not the mind of God. Take this problem to Him—His answer, and His answer alone, will be the right one.”

“Thank you,” said Chris, rising once more and pulling from Elizabeth’s grasp. “I know your advice is sound.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Gain wisdom from the road that stretches before you, my dear brother.”

“Thank you. It’s really been nice meeting you…talking with you, but I’ve gotta be going.”

Again Elizabeth nodded, but said no more.

Chris turned and quickly headed for the door. For a time, Elizabeth’s eyes followed him; then they returned to the book of poetry.

Chris glanced back as he left the reading gallery of the library. Elizabeth’s words had troubled him. He had been doing so well these past three months, and now this. Right now, he wished that he had never had the dreams at all. Perhaps it was better not to know who this woman was. Everyone else in Heaven seemed to have a perfect peace that still eluded him. As he reached the steps of the library, he faced a decision. There were solutions to this problem.

Chris considered returning to the Hall of Records. Yes, the answers to his questions would most assuredly be found in his own book. He hadn’t been to the Hall of Records since that first time with his mother. He’d promised her that he would not go in alone, that he would not return there unless she was with him, to guide him. During these past months the desire to go there had evaporated. His life was here, not back on Earth. Now the desire to seek out the truth was stronger than ever.

But there was another solution, wasn’t there. Perhaps he should go to the most holy place, go there right now. He should speak to God personally. No, he had already prayed about this matter; there was no point in troubling God with this issue. But if not that, what should he do? He couldn’t keep going on like this.

Chris headed down to the river banks where he walked amid the splendid beauty for hours. He looked toward the most holy place, beyond the far bank. Even from here, he could hear the praises of God’s children, rising like a beautiful melody, flowing through the city like a cool, refreshing breeze.

He came to a decision. He would head home, speak to his mother first. Then he would return to Zion to speak to God tomorrow. He and his mother would come here together. Yes, that is what he would do. He turned for home, yet his heart was still troubled.

It was over dinner when Chris told his mother of the strange events that had happened at the library. She listened without comment as Chris went on about it. After Chris had related the entire story, Jennifer had a lot to think about.

“I don’t really know this Elizabeth you met at the library,” she began. “You haven’t had too much exposure to the saints who have been in Heaven as long as Elizabeth has.” Jennifer paused before continuing. “God continues to refine us, and with time we become more and more like His son. Chris, it doesn’t surprise me that she could read you so well; think of how well Jesus read people. Remember the story of the woman at the well? Jesus knew all about her questionable past, her many husbands. He saw right into her heart and told her all about what she had done. Then he told her what she needed to know to bring her heart peace and her spirit salvation. Well, saints who have been here for hundreds or even thousands of years get sort of like that. They are not infallible, but sometimes they see right into our hearts.”

“Then what should I do, Mom,” asked Chris.

“Well, I think her advice was sound, don’t you?”

“Well, yes.”

“You don’t sound very convinced,” Jennifer said. “You’ve been avoiding this subject for months. You haven’t even told God about it, have you?”

“In my prayer that night,” objected Chris.

“But not face to face,” countered Jennifer, “not in the holiest of holy places. You know, God could speak to us anytime, anywhere; nothing is stopping Him. He knows all that we do and think; but for our sake, He chooses to allow us to select the time when we wish to speak to Him. That is why that holiest of holy places exists. Are you afraid of what you might find, what He might say?”

Mom had come right to the point, hadn’t she? Chris had never been able to hide anything from her as he was growing up. He might just as well have been as transparent as glass. “I’m very afraid. I have a bad feeling, a real bad feeling about it. I’m afraid that what I find out is going to hurt.”

Jennifer saw tears forming in her son’s eyes. She rose from her chair and rushed to her son, they embraced. “You’re not going to go through this alone. I’ll go to Zion with you tomorrow. We can go right now if you like. But I want to be with you when you meet with God.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’d really like for you to be with me. We will go tomorrow; my mind is made up.”

“Good,” Jennifer said, holding her son all the more tightly. “I know it might be rough, dear, but the sooner we find out what’s going on, the sooner the healing process can get started. You know God. He would never do anything to hurt you, never. And remember, I’m here for you too, dear. I always will be. We’ll get through this, you and I.”

After dinner, Chris and Jennifer took a walk around the grounds beneath a myriad of stars. Jennifer didn’t speak of it, but she was deeply concerned. She, like her son, had assumed that the problem had been resolved months ago. Apparently, she had been mistaken. Tomorrow would bring some sort of resolution to this issue, of that she was certain. As to what form that resolution would take, remained a mystery. She only hoped that her son would find the peace that he so desperately sought.

In the midst of dreams, turbulent and confusing, Chris found himself surrounded by a myriad of shooting stars streaming out of a black sky. No, not shooting stars, snowflakes falling swiftly from the night sky, illuminated by the headlights of a car, his car. He felt an arm on his shoulder. He turned to see the woman from his dreams at his side. She wasn’t nameless, not now, her name was Serena. He knew her; she was his wife. His mind was full of images of a courtship, a wedding, a rock house in which they lived, so much happiness.

Then, he felt the car begin to slide on the icy road. He had taken the turn too quickly, hadn’t noticed the patch of ice. There were headlights bearing down upon them. He tried to regain control of the car, but his efforts were for naught. There was a violent impact and a terrible scream. The world spun wildly around him, even as the gaps in his memory were swiftly filled with lost images and sensations. He hadn’t been wearing his seat belt, and neither had she. They didn’t have air bags. The steering wheel had hit him solidly in the chest. Yet, that was only the first impact; there was a second, and then a third. The snowy landscape beyond the windshield spun around, and then upside down. Then it righted itself once more. When the world of his dreams stopped gyrating, when the sound of the grinding of metal against metal had faded away, he was faced with a final earthly reality. He turned to behold his love. A terrible laceration stretched from her forehead to her cheek. It was bleeding profusely. She had hit the windshield and then the ceiling of the passenger compartment during the tumble.

Now she sat in such an unnatural position, her glassy unseeing eyes stared into his. The light of her life had been extinguished.

Chris let out a cry of despair that penetrated the veil of sleep and erupted into waking reality. The image of his lost love vanished. He opened his eyes to see his bedroom in the mansion, illuminated only in starlight. His heart was racing, his face full of tears, and his mind full of new memories. He was crying bitterly. He would never be the same again.

Ebbie was sitting at his side, having been aroused from a sound sleep. She was looking at her best friend with sympathetic yellow eyes that glistened, even in the semidarkness.

“Oh, God! What has happened to me?”

The overhead light came on abruptly as his mother burst into the room, barefoot and still dressed in her nightgown. “Chris, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Mom,” Chris gasped, yet said no more; he couldn’t.

Jennifer was at her son’s bedside now as he struggled to sit up. “I heard you crying from my room. You’ve had another one of those dreams, haven’t you?”

“Mom, I remember,” said Chris breathlessly. “I remember everything, every detail. Oh God, it was my fault!”

Jennifer hugged her trembling son. “Chris, calm down, you’ve had a bad dream. I don’t know how that’s possible, but that’s all it is. You’re all right; you’re home. It wasn’t real.”

“No, it wasn’t a dream, Mom. It was my memory. Mom, I know who that woman in my dreams is, the one I couldn’t remember. Mom, she’s my wife, her name is Serena.”

“You were married?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “She was the love of my life, so beautiful, so wonderful, so loving. I remember it all, now. She worked at a health food store, that’s where I met her. I remember our wonderful times together, our marriage in the park, everything.”

Chris swung his legs over the bed.

“But why now?” asked Jennifer.

“I don’t know. Why didn’t I remember her?” Chris paused; he might have the answer to that question. Why would a resident of Heaven not remember a loved one on Earth? To his way of thinking, there was only one reason. But why did he remember her now? This sort of thing didn’t happen.