by B. N. Toler
When I finally gathered myself and got my thoughts in order, I began telling Axel my story, starting with the accident that took his life and left me able to see the dead. I told Axel about my recovery after the accident, the gift I woke up with, and what happened in the years that followed. Ike helped explain how we’d met, and the dynamics involving George, neither of them seeming to notice when I began to choke up at the mention of George. I left out the part about me almost jumping off a bridge to end my life. I was ashamed of it and didn’t want Axel to know. Thankfully, Ike didn’t mention it either. I wasn’t sure how I could feel so jubilant in reuniting with these two men I loved dearly, yet feel so sorrowful realizing I’d left George, and the people I cared about, behind. My emotions were vacillating so quickly I could barely keep up with them.
“So…you’re married to his brother?” Axel asked quizzically, his mouth quirked up on one side showcasing his dimple. There was a trace of humor in his tone only I could detect. He was my brother. I knew his laugh, the way he sounded when he was being sarcastic, how he’d blink rapidly when he was angry about something. To Axel’s credit, he was handling it quite well, better than I expected given the insanity of it all.
“George,” I reminded him, my own tone warning him not to laugh at me, even if the whole falling-in-love-with-twin-brothers-one-of-which-was-dead bit did sound ridiculous. My chest tightened as I said George’s name. It felt like it had only been a few hours since the two of us were tangled up in bed together. People always say you never know when it’s going to be your last day, and it’s the truth. I would’ve never imagined when George kissed me goodbye, it would be the last time I’d see him. If a heart could actually produce a sound of grief and agony, mine would’ve been howling as I soaked in that thought. That was the last time he’d have seen me alive.
Please let him be okay.
As I silently mourned, a short zip rushed through me, making me halt. Ike and Axel stopped with me, both turning to me.
Music.
I heard music.
“Do you hear that?” I asked them. They glanced around then at each other, shaking their heads. “You don’t hear that? The music?”
“I don’t hear any music,” Ike said.
“Piano.” I blinked, a heaviness settled so deep in my heart it felt like it was pulling me to the ground and crushing me beneath it. Why did I feel so heart broken? The composition was familiar… “Beethoven,” I mumbled, then added, “You really don’t hear that?” Both of them shook their heads again.
Why was I the only one hearing it? More importantly, why did it make me feel so sad?
“You okay?” Axel asked, his forehead wrinkled with concern.
I shook my head, unable to answer. My mind had caught the scent of something, and now it had its nose to the ground, determined to find the trail. There was something important about this, but what was it?
“Charlotte?” Ike tried when I didn’t respond to Axel.
I couldn’t answer him either. A sensation whisked through me, hooking my body, clutching me, attempting to pull me backward. My limbs were heavy and my head spun with dizziness. I shuffled to catch my balance, fighting the nausea building in my belly. Ike and Axel flanked me, both holding one side of me, keeping me on my feet. “Do you guys feel that?” I darted my eyes in every direction, hoping I’d identify what was making me experience this, but all I saw was Ike, Axel, and beauty. “Something is…pulling at me.”
Ike and Axel glanced at each other before turning their perplexed stares back to me. “I don’t feel anything,” Ike answered. After a moment, the odd feelings subsided, and I blinked a few times, confused.
“It’s gone,” I said, still perplexed by what I’d just experienced. Was it my grief at the thought of George? My mind raced toward that conclusion. “I’m okay,” I assured them as I pushed away from them to get my bearings.
“You’re looking a little glum, sis. I think you might need cheering up.” There was an odd note to Axel’s voice and when I looked at him, his head was dipped slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration.
The imagery around us slowly changed, yet somehow quickly, too. Axel lifted his head and began walking forward, and without realizing it, I followed. Before I knew it, we were approaching what appeared to be a farm with layered hills and round hay bales scattered about the swells of land. It reminded me of Warm Springs a little. The view alone was so beautiful it made a strong argument for this being the heaven my mother spoke about in her Sunday School lessons.
“Where are we?” Ike asked quietly.
I couldn’t answer him; this place wasn’t familiar to me. I tore my gaze from all the splendor to ask my brother why he brought us here, but something about the expression on his face kept the words from forming. His hands were still in his pockets and he was smiling softly as he stared ahead. His features lit up, peaceful contentment radiated from him. Curious, I followed his line of sight, and when I saw what he’d been staring at, my mouth fell open.
Pain and joy rolled through me, freezing me in place. Axel wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me to his side, his voice barely audible when he spoke, “Before I died, when I questioned whether there was really more; whether there really were angels, or even a God, I ultimately believed because of her. She was the most selfless and loving person I’d ever known, and I just knew there had to be a heaven because she deserved it. Someone that good couldn’t just cease to exist.”
I nodded as I swallowed the giant lump of emotion in my throat and let out a long breath.
“She’ll be so happy to see you, Char.”
Grams.
My Grams.
She was here and I was about to see her again.
Her quaint house, the one she’d lived in with my grandfather until the day she left us, sat centered atop the beautiful landscape.
“This is where she picked to live in the afterlife?”
Axel snorted a quiet laugh. “She kept her tiny house and ancient things, but changed the view.” That sounded like Grams. She was never materialistic. You can’t take it with you, she’d always said. As I thought about seeing her again, something rushed through me, almost like an adrenaline spike but without the amped up feeling. It was as if all the worries I’d been carrying since I woke up on this side were suddenly leaving me, spiraling down my body and draining out of me. My Grams was here. I was here. I was going to get to see and hug my most favorite person ever.
“Go on, sis,” Axel urged, giving me a gentle push. “I think I smell homemade bread. She probably just pulled it out of the oven. I bet she’ll cut you a slice.” I wasn’t hungry, but the mention of Grams’s infamous bread made my mouth water. I didn’t want to eat at that moment, but I craved the familiarity, the nostalgia. Grams always had a way of making you feel loved without words. It was in the comfort of things like a warm meal, an ice-cold glass of tea, and the outdated green china she always used. These things were cherished because they were consistent, they were part of a steady stream of love I could always count on. They were home. Grams was home.
I wasn’t sure if my brother had made it happen, or if my memory created it, but I swore the aroma of fresh baked bread wafted through the air. “I smell it,” I said in wonder.
“Go, Char,” Axel coaxed. “What are you waiting for?”
I took off, moving swiftly, my feet barely touching the ground until I felt the hard, aged wood of her porch steps beneath them, exactly how I remembered them as a child, when we’d run around barefoot on summer days playing outside while Grams sipped iced tea and watched us from the porch swing.
I’d just reached the porch when her front door opened. A woman with auburn hair pinned up and lips painted red stared back at me. She wore a floral dress straight from the fifties, complete with contrasting collar and full skirt. Who in the heck was this lady?
Her mouth turned up, her eyes lit up with mirth. “Charlotte Anne?” she gasped through her grin.
I narrowed my gaze at h
er, scanning her face. This could not be my grandmother. But she’d called me Charlotte Anne, just like Grams did. Scanning her face, I searched for a trace of something I might recognize, but the moment I met her gaze, I knew. “It’s really you,” I breathed as I flew into her arms.
“Yes, sug. It’s me,” she whispered into my hair as she held me close. After a few moments she stepped back, her hands resting softly on my shoulders as she took in my expression. “You look fit to be tied, child,” she said in her perfect southern drawl, her mouth quirking into a smile.
“You…this,” I waved my hand at her, “isn’t what I expected is all,” I explained.
She touched primly at her hair. “You can understand why I didn’t want to spend all eternity as a wrinkled old granny now, can’t ya, sug?” she asked, her tone laced with humor.
Scanning her face again, I realized what she was saying. This was Grams as she was in her prime—the way she wanted to exist in eternity. I grinned, unable to argue the point despite her appearance being different than what I’d expected. She was a stunner, no doubt about it, even when she’d been a ‘wrinkled old granny.’ I’d thought the seasoned version of her was beautiful, and that version of her was what I had expected to see.
“Grams, you’re a fox,” I beamed.
“Charlotte Anne,” she beamed back, pulling me back into her arms for another embrace. I clung to her, letting my body relax against her. The feel of her was different, but the love and the warmth she’d always radiated was exactly the same. It was exactly what I needed.
Ike
I drifted into the background while Charlotte caught up with her brother and grandmother, but I never took my eyes off of her. The smile on her face was its own little piece of heaven for me. Seeing her smile was all I’d ever wanted.
Grams fed us fresh baked bread and homemade cookies, and reminisced about Charlotte’s grandfather, who was still alive. A part of me felt like I should leave, but then another part of me said hell no to that. I’d just found her. I wasn’t letting her out of my sight.
“Do you remember me saying goodbye to you, Grams?” Charlotte asked. “You didn’t open your eyes, but I swear I felt you squeeze my hand.”
“I heard you, sug. Every word. I was just so sick, and so tired, I couldn’t open my eyes.”
Charlotte teared up. “I always wondered about that.”
Grams forced a smile, her eyes growing glossy. “And when I finally passed and my spirit left my body, I saw all of you.” She glanced back and forth between Charlotte and Axel. “I saw my family stand around my bed and pray. It gave me such peace.”
“You were able to see yourself…and us…just after you passed?” Charlotte asked, sounding confused.
Grams nodded. “Yes, briefly.”
“Huh,” Charlotte huffed. “I know Axel was in limbo for a short period of time, but he had unfinished business. As soon as he knew I would be okay, he crossed over.”
Grams frowned not understanding what she was getting at. “What’s the matter, Charlotte Anne?”
“I didn’t see my body. I can’t even remember how I died,” she said, bewildered.
“Your memory will come back to you,” I offered, hoping to reassure her.
Charlotte glanced over at me. “Did you see yourself, your body I mean, after you passed?”
Lightning fast images snapped through my head, but not of my body after my death. They were memories of the devastation my death caused my family as I had to stand by helpless and watch. “I didn’t see my body. Just everything else.”
“So you were all in limbo, at least for a brief time,” she confirmed, looking at each of us.
She was obviously distraught about this, but I couldn’t understand why. “I’m sure you’ll remember soon,” I reiterated when no one else spoke.
Charlotte nodded a few times before taking a sip from her glass of iced tea. Her features were tight, doing little to hide the confusion she was feeling. Grams, just like Axel and I, sensed Charlotte was worried, and since Charlotte wasn’t articulating exactly why she was upset, we decided to redirect the conversation.
“Well, Charlotte love,” Grams sighed. “Why don’t you and your young man here go for a walk.” She cast a knowing look my way. I guess it was obvious I was eager to have Charlotte to myself for a bit. Charlotte glanced at me, the corners of her mouth turning up as our eyes met.
“I think I’d like that Grams,” Charlotte agreed. “Ike…would you like to show me around?”
“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” I told her, the enthusiasm in my voice not difficult to miss.
“Well I’m going to head off myself,” Axel announced as he rubbed his stomach. “Maybe we can have a little us time later,” he not-so-subtly suggested, his gaze meeting mine before shifting it to Charlotte. He definitely wanted to be with Charlotte alone, without me. Message received—loud and clear.
Charlotte hugged him and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Grams hugged me warmly, and I shook hands with Axel, then Charlotte and I went outside. As we stepped off the last porch step, the house disappeared. Stopping, she turned and stared back at the vacant area, a smile drifting across her lips. “Did you do that?”
“No,” I chuckled. “It’s just how things are here. When you want to go somewhere…you’re there, and when you leave…it leaves.” I shook my head. “That probably doesn’t make any sense.”
She sighed, “This is surreal.”
“You being here is surreal.”
Her soft gaze fixed on me before she slipped her dainty hand in mine and threaded our fingers. I stared at our hold, happiness surging through me. “I still just can’t—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “I’m still reeling a bit.”
Nodding, I squeezed her hand gently and we began walking.
“Take me somewhere beautiful. Somewhere that you like.”
“There are so many places I love here, but you know my favorite place will always be our place, Charlotte. That last day we spent together there…it was everything.”
She lowered her head as if in thought. “And that was only us daydreaming,” she mused. I detected the flicker of humor in her tone. She was flirting…subtly. I doubted she even realized she was doing it. The last day we were together we’d spent hours by the water, fantasizing about the life we’d have shared together if we could have…if I had still been alive when we met.
“You carved our initials in the tree.”
She turned her head to look at me, a happy-surprised expression on her face. “You saw it?”
“Just before I left…before I came here. You have no idea what that meant to me.”
Her eyes teared up. “I wasn’t sure I’d survive it, Ike,” she admitted. “You leaving. It was—”
“I know, baby girl. I know.”
Looking ahead again, her steps slowed as her mouth gaped slightly. “Where are we?”
The glow of the setting sun reflected in her eyes as she gazed over the mountains. “Everest,” I told her.
She inhaled a shaky breath, her lower lip trembling. “It’s beautiful.” She let out a strangled sob before covering her mouth with her hand. Her tear-filled eyes met mine. “It’s hard to absorb it all. There’s just too much beauty to take in.”
I’d felt the same way when I arrived. I’d seen many awe-inspiring places in my life, but none of them held a candle to here, to this side; everything was clearer and sharper, colors were more vibrant. All of your senses were taken to the extreme. You weren’t just seeing mountains, you were experiencing them. The magnitude of it all was incredibly overwhelming, but in a good way.
As Charlotte stared at the scenery, I stared at her. Her dark hair was curled, draping over her shoulders and down her back, the sunlight hitting it just so, making it glimmer as the light breeze gently whisked it away from her face. There had been times while I was stuck in limbo, when I’d questioned things. Wondered why it was happening to me; wonde
ring if I was being punished for having done something so terrible I deserved to watch my family suffer and not be able to do anything to help them. Then Charlotte came along and I’d felt hope; only to have the questions return when I’d fallen in love with her.
But now, watching her, feeling her hand in mine…none of that mattered. I’d finally reached it. Heaven. We were together. All of the suffering I’d been through was but a wisp in my memories.
“Let’s climb up on that rock and sit,” I pointed. “We’ll have a better view from up there.”
I stepped up first, then reached down to help her climb, but as soon as she lifted her hand to take mine, she paused and stumbled back, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Are you okay?” I asked, bending to jump down and help her.
Shaking her head she lifted her hand to stop me. “I’m fine. Something just felt weird for a second. That same feeling I had earlier. Like something was pulling at me.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
She took a deep breath and pressed on a smile as she climbed the rock. “Yes, I’m fine,” she assured me. When we sat down, she scooted close and rested her head on my shoulder. “I feel…happy.”
I smiled faintly. “I’m glad,” I told her, resting my cheek against her head.
“But I feel sad, too.”
My heart squeezed with her words. I knew she was sad and I knew why. George. My brother. Her husband. “I know, baby girl,” I murmured.
“I wonder if he’s okay…” she started apprehensively, as if she felt bad for bringing it up.
“It’s okay to talk about him,” I said as memories of my brother surfaced. “He’s been good, though? I feel like when I’ve thought of him…I’ve felt serenity.”
“He’s been good, staying diligent with his recovery. I don’t know how…” she trailed off, then laughed bitterly, “God knows being married to me, with all my craziness, would drive anyone to bad vices. But he’s been strong…for both of us. I don’t know how I would’ve gone on without him,” she finished shakily, sorrow lacing her voice. As much as it hurt me to hear it, I understood her sadness.