Summer's Path

by Scott Blum

  “There’s nothing morbid about death. It’s as natural as breathing. But what’s sad is that Sarah doesn’t know she’s no longer living on this plane. She’s still here, and she’s confused. I suppose I should help—we don’t have much time left tonight, but I did take the oath.”

  “What oath?”

  “The Oath of the Psychopomp,” Robert said matter-of-factly.

  “Psychopomp? What’s a psychopomp?”

  “It’s someone who helps souls transition to the other side after they have died. It’s a tradition that used to be very common, but over time the funeral ritual has all but destroyed it in Western cultures.”

  “I thought that’s what a funeral was for.”

  “No, a funeral is for the living only. But the deceased are the ones who really need the help— especially if they die suddenly in an accident, like Sarah here.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to perform a short ritual. If you were still in human form, I’d ask you to do the posture with me, but you can still join me in the soundings.”

  “Soundings? But my voice isn’t—”

  “It’s okay,” Robert interrupted. “Your voice will be fine. Just listen to me, and mimic what I’m doing the best you can. It’s not the sound itself, but the intent. What we’re going to do is open a path to the afterlife that will be easy for Sarah to follow. Are you ready?”

  “I guess so.”

  Robert carefully aligned himself so the memorial was between him and the full moon above. His feet were spaced about six inches apart, and he deliberately brought his hands to the sides of his head and placed them gently above his ears with his palms covering his temples. His arms were bowed out on either side to make the shape of a large circle. Slowly he hinged his neck back as far as it would go and opened his mouth wide. He stayed still in that posture for several seconds and, without warning, began to let out a strange, eerie sound.

  “Ahhhhhhh …” he started quietly and carried the sound for nearly fifteen seconds before stopping. The canyon walls echoed his voice ominously like a huge outdoor cathedral for nearly as long as it had taken him to utter the first verse. Robert then took a deep breath and repeated louder: “Ahhhhhhh …”

  Robert and the canyon continued their duet for several minutes before Don was ready to join in. Ever since he had first tried to speak in the garage, Don had felt self-conscious about his new voice and had spent most of his time as a puppy in silence. At first he tried to mimic Robert, but all that came out was a squeaky whimper. He then remembered what Robert had said about intent and decided to try making a sound while filling his heart with the word go.

  Go, he thought over and over. Go. He then opened his puppy mouth wide, and out came a loud, high-pitched howl unlike any sound he had ever made before. It was simultaneously piercing and soulful and made him feel powerful and confident.

  Don’s howl entwined with Robert’s voice perfectly, and the canyon joined in by echoing their two voices. They continued ahhing and howling, with both the intensity and volume compounding with every verse. After the fifth time, Don thought he could see a faint glow coming out of his mouth whenever he began to howl. It looked as if the mist from his mouth was reflecting the moonbeams; however, it wasn’t cold enough outside for his breath to mist. He thought he was imagining it at first, until he looked over to Robert and saw that he, too, had a faint glow coming out of his mouth. The glow seemed to get brighter and more pronounced with every howl, and it began to travel through the night sky toward a shining star that appeared to simultaneously draw closer to Earth.

  After several minutes of howling, the light beam remained fully illuminated and seemed to connect the cliff they were standing on to the star above, which by then appeared nearly close enough to touch. Robert gestured with his hand to be silent, and they both stood perfectly still as they let the echoes of their voices wash over the canyon walls. Don watched the light beam sparkle and dance as if it was alive and waiting for someone to join its graceful path.

  As soon as the echoes fell to silence nearly a full minute later, Don instinctively inhaled a huge breath and let out the loudest, most piercing howl he could muster. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” they howled together, and almost immediately, Don could see the soul of the young girl float slowly toward the light beam. The vaguely humanlike shape had an amorphous borealis-like glow that shimmered with an otherworldly quality that was undeniably … alive.

  As soon as she connected to the glimmering light, a brilliant flash traveled quickly and deliberately up the beam and to the star above. The entire sky flashed white, as if a massive lightbulb had been switched on, and just as quickly was gone. The light beam and the star overhead had disappeared in an instant, and the night returned to darkness. And although the full moon was still present, it appeared remarkably dim compared to the brilliant star that was no longer around.

  Don fell to the ground and closed his eyes while panting loudly.

  “That was intense,” he said after he caught his breath. “Is she gone now?”

  “Yes, she’s finally where she needs to be.”

  “Do you do that a lot?”

  “Not so much anymore,” Robert laughed. “I used to, but now I try to avoid situations where unexpected deaths are a certainty.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once I spent an entire lifetime helping thousands of people who didn’t know they were dead transition to the other side.” His tone became very serious. “You have never seen so much confusion and angst in all of your life—it was utterly horrendous. I never want to see that again.”

  “Where was that?”

  Robert remained silent for several seconds. In the moonlight, Don could see a look of complete and absolute horror overtake his face.

  “Hiroshima,” Robert finally said in a quiet, shaky voice. “1945.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes, and Don began to feel sorry for Robert. He couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to see thousands of disembodied souls that didn’t understand why they were instantly killed. War was the worst thing he could imagine, but he had never thought about what happened to the souls after they died.

  Ever since Don had met Robert, his perspective on how he viewed himself and others had changed dramatically. Before, he believed that he and his body were one and the same. But now he was living inside the body of a dog, and his new friend was living inside the body he used to call his own. It was all very confusing, and he began to wish for a simpler time when dead people were dead and living people were living, and never the two should meet.

  “Okay, enough of this sad talk.” Robert laughed and stood up while brushing the dust from his pants. “Come on now, we have a death to fake.”

  Robert hopped over the stone wall and disappeared into the darkness. Don could hear his friend rummaging through the brush, and in less than a minute, Robert reappeared with two medium-sized twisted branches. Don recognized the smooth red bark of the manzanita bush, which was one of his favorites.

  “What are you going to do with those?” he asked.

  Robert ignored the question and deliberately walked to the car and tossed the branches onto the passenger seat. Don followed him and watched while he started up the Land Cruiser and slowly backed it into the middle of the road. After it was positioned, Robert switched the lights on, which shone brightly onto the rock wall that divided the road from the canyon below.

  He then got out and used the first branch to depress the clutch, and kept it in place by positioning the other end against the ripped vinyl seat. He climbed back in and shifted the transmission into the lowest gear. After getting out, he deliberately positioned the second branch against the gas pedal, which instantly revved the engine to a high-pitched whine.

  When Don finally realized what was happening, he ran up to Robert and instinctively tugged his pant leg with his puppy teeth. “What are you doing to my car?! Isn’t there another way?”

  “Get out of the
way,” yelled Robert over the loud engine. “You don’t need this car anymore, and this is the perfect way for Suzanne to get closure. Don’t be selfish—it’s not about you.”

  These words hit Don hard. He ran through the different options in his mind and couldn’t think of anything better. As he was reflecting on Suzanne, he saw Robert empty his pockets and throw Don’s wallet onto the front seat before dramatically pulling away the branch that was depressing the clutch. The Land Cruiser surged into gear and sped toward the rock wall.

  Through Don’s eyes, everything appeared in slow motion as the large tires of the four-wheel-drive automobile connected with the hand-laid masonry. He thought he saw the vehicle bounce back for an instant, and then it heaved forward as the deep tread gripped the top of the barrier and pulled the front wheels up and over the wall.

  At that moment, everything sped back into real time, and the back wheels effortlessly scaled the wall and the car appeared to glide down the cliff and into the canyon below. About halfway down, it flipped over and continued to cartwheel down the massive boulders until it plunged into the river with a huge splash. The engine was instantly silenced, and other than the sound of rocks and pebbles sliding down the mountain, the air in the majestic canyon was calm once again.

  “There,” Robert said dryly. “You’re dead. Let’s get going before someone comes to find out what just happened.”

  Don was stunned as he watched the Land Cruiser being swallowed by the water below. When the last wheel sank out of sight, his mind turned to Suzanne, and he realized he would never see her again. He was intensely disappointed in himself that he had been the one to leave her. His entire life was filled with the pain and suffering from his parents’ leaving him at such an early age. And he had ended up abandoning the only person he’d ever loved. He had always felt that Suzanne was going to eventually leave him, but in the end he left her—and he could never forgive himself for doing so.

  But even more disturbing was how out of control he felt. Robert had completely taken over his life, and it didn’t seem to matter what he wanted anymore. Don wondered if he had made the right decision and started to regret not killing himself when he had the opportunity. It was probably still possible to commit suicide as a dog, but he didn’t know how to do it.

  “Come on,” urged Robert. “Let’s go.”

  Don begrudgingly followed Robert after looking at his car once more. He saw the last part of the bumper sticking out of the water and the moon reflecting on the river as if nothing had happened.

  The two of them walked in silence along the winding forest road, illuminated by the moonbeams filtered through the tall conifers. After walking nearly two hours without a word, they came to a long, narrow wood building with striped canvas drapes pulled along its entire length. Scattered throughout the yard were various pieces of furniture, including a large, overstuffed love seat. They instinctively drifted through the split-rail fence and stood in front of the love seat. Reflected in the moonlight at the top of the building was a hand-painted sign that read: MAXIMUM STAY IN THIS REST AREA 18 HOURS.

  “Not a problem.” Robert chuckled softly as he collapsed into the chair, stirring up a cloud of dust. Don jumped into his lap, and they both fell asleep instantly—exhausted from their long and event-fulnight.

  CHAPTER TEN

  In the morning, Suzanne was awakened by a loud knock at the front door. She was alone, since her husband once again hadn’t come to bed. She thought that he had likely fallen asleep in the garage, as he had a habit of doing lately. The knocking continued, this time louder and more insistent.

  “I’m coming,” Suzanne said as she fumbled to find her robe. “I’ll be right there.”

  Bleary-eyed, she opened the door to reveal two police officers standing on her doorstep. They both looked identical except that the female one had slightly longer hair.

  “Can I help you?” asked Suzanne.

  “Mrs. Newport?” replied the female cop in a plaintive voice.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but your husband’s vehicle was involved in an accident last night.”

  “That’s impossible,” Suzanne replied. “His car is right …” Her words trailed off as she pointed to the street where the Land Cruiser had been parked for the past several weeks. However, the police car was in its place. “Oh my god,” she gasped.

  Suzanne left the officers on the front porch as she rushed into the garage, shouting her husband’s name repeatedly. “Don!” she called out as she hurried from one room to the next. “This isn’t funny! Where are you?”

  After exploring every room of their small house three times, she returned to the porch, where the officers were patiently waiting. She was out of breath and visibly distraught.

  “Where is he?” she asked. “Where is he now?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re not exactly sure at the moment.”

  “What do you mean you aren’t exactly sure?! You said you found his car. What’s going on here?” Suzanne began to hyperventilate. “Tell me what’s going on!”

  “Please calm down, ma’am. We want to tell you what we know.”

  Suzanne saw Don’s wallet in the male officer’s hand, and she instinctively grabbed for it. He handed her the damp leather wallet and spoke for the first time: “The vehicle was found at the bottom of a steep ravine, where it was submerged in water. This wallet washed up on the shore about a quarter mile downriver. We’re still looking for your husband, but he would have found himself in some of the most treacherous waters in all of the Rogue River. ”

  Suzanne grew dizzy, and the light began to dim. She grabbed on to the doorjamb, trying to steady herself, before collapsing to the floor. Seated in the doorway, she thumbed through the wallet and found Don’s driver’s license. The photo was from several years ago when he still looked like he had when they’d first met. It was long before the cancer or financial problems, when life was much easier. There was also a photo of them together, which separated from its sodden backing as she removed it from the wallet.

  “Are you sure?” Suzanne asked as she looked up to the officers.

  “I’m afraid so, ma’am,” the female cop replied. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What do I do now?”

  “There’s nothing you can do at the moment. We’re attempting to remove the vehicle from the river as soon as possible, and we’ve already started a full-scale search and rescue to retrieve him. It’s possible that your husband is still alive, and we’re going to do everything we can to find him.”

  “It’s ‘possible’ that he’s still alive?” Uncharacter-istically, Suzanne raised her voice. “Possible?!”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We’re going to do everything we can to find him.”

  “You already said that.” Suzanne was getting annoyed with their by-the-book answers.

  “I apologize, ma’am. I understand this is a very difficult situation for you.”

  “Did you see the car?”

  The male cop nodded. “We just drove from the scene directly here,” he said, averting his eyes. “Is there someone we can call for you, ma’am?”

  Suzanne shook her head as the cops began to fade out of focus.

  “It’s helpful if a friend or family member can be with you right now.”

  “No.” Suzanne continued to shake her head. “I want to be alone.”

  Apparently on cue, both officers handed Suzanne their business cards and said in unison, “These are our numbers.”

  The female added, “Call if you have any questions or if there’s anything we can do to help. I’ve also written the number of Social Services on the back of my card. Give them a call if you need someone to talk to.”

  Suzanne pulled herself back up to a standing position and took the cards. “Okay, thank you,” she said in a scratchy voice and mindlessly shut the door in their faces.

  “Oh my god,” she said as she stumbled toward the kitchen. “Oh my god.”

  As she came to her y
ellow desk, she noticed an envelope on her chair that was inscribed with the words Dearest Suzanne. She immediately picked it up and ripped it open to reveal a letter that was written in her husband’s handwriting:

  Dearest Suzanne,

  I’m so sorry to leave you. You are the love of my life, and I am forever indebted to you for all you have done for me. But I can no longer go on. The pain, the money, the stress … it’s just not worth it. I was going to be gone anyway before the end of the year. Please don’t be mad at me for leaving on my own terms.

  Don’t grieve for me, and do whatever you need to do without me. Your happiness is all that matters.

  Thank you for a beautiful life.

  Your husband, Don

  Suzanne’s tears began to dot the letter she was holding as her hands shook uncontrollably. Her stomach wrenched in knots, and she could barely catch her breath before she let out a piercing scream that rattled the glassware.

  “Damn you!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “You selfish brat—damn you! How could you do this to me?”

  Suzanne ripped the letter in half. And then she ripped it in half again. She kept tearing it into smaller and smaller pieces until the letter was an unrecognizable pile of confetti. She then shoved the handful of tiny papers into her mouth and began chewing. She nearly gagged when she tried to swallow the pulpy mess. “Damn you!” she screamed again, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she fell to the floor and lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I wonder if the puppy comes with this chair,” joked Peter.

  “Yeah, and we could use an extra hippie around the house.” Miranda giggled.

  Don opened his eyes and saw two figures standing in front of the rising sun: a tall, balding man with thick glasses next to a short, curly-haired redheaded woman wearing a bright yellow sundress. The corners of their eyes and mouths proudly displayed many years of deep lines and wrinkles, revealing that they both laughed easily.