My image was clear in the reflecting surface. Huge brown eyes in a pale heart-shaped face stared back at me. The mouth drooped a little at the corners, and I wondered if a short rocket ride out to the farm might perk me up a bit and ignite my brain cells. It was worth a try as I’d had no luck in dreaming up a worthy plan to send Lilith on her way.
Seven days.
Not much time. After that, Saint Pete would pull the plug.
That sobering thought sent me shooting through the roof and into the night sky. I headed south to my parent’s farm on the outskirts of town. As I passed quiet streets and dark houses, I focused my thoughts on all the past Sunday school lessons I’d learned through my childhood. Surely there had to be a nugget of gold hidden somewhere in the thousands of hours of Bible study that I could use against Lilith.
Yet I could think of nothing but the beauty of the South Georgia autumn countryside bathed in the glorious light of the moon.
On the outskirts of town, I followed pasturelands and fields of beans and turnips and carrots. The scent of freshly turned dirt mingled with cow patties and pig farms to remind me of my childhood spent out here on the peanut farm. At the General Store, I turned eastward and followed the highway until I saw the flashing intersection light. At the light, I turned left onto Nelms Road and made a sharp right on See More Lane.
Several miles more and I would be home. When I streaked into the dirt driveway, a lone light shone in the kitchen window like a welcoming beacon. In the distance, I heard a train whistle and closer, the faint stirring of oak leaves rattling in the rising breeze. Warm and comfortable in my red flannel shirt and jeans, I circled the house with caution—not wanting to stir up the barn cats. If they sensed my presence, they’d set up a holler, and if my parents were home, I didn’t want to disturb their rest with my arrival.
Being careful not to break any of the rules, Saint Pete had put forth, I floated to the front porch and paused just outside the front door. Silence, but for the usual snorts and pawing sounds from the barn, wrapped around me, and I drifted inside. In the foyer, I gazed lovingly at the family photos lining the wallpapered walls. Mama and Daddy’s wedding photo taken in the old white clapboard church down the road. Billie Jo holding Lynette with Roddy beaming by her side. Deena and her two children, Bo and Summer. Me and Becky. Becky and Jacob. Hannah. 4-H photos. Fair Queen. Pecan pie contest. Harvest balls. Weddings. Birthdays. Graduations. They were all there. Each one in their special place on the wall. And in the middle—Grandpa and Grandma Tucker.
So many wonderful memories of my family. A stab of fear replaced the fuzzy, warm feeling, and I drifted over to the recent group photo my sisters, and I had gifted to our parents. If I failed my given task, I would never again interact with them. Never feel their arms around me. Or hear their laughter or wipe away their tears. I would never play with my granddaughter, Hannah.
So many what if’s and what-could-have-been’s. So many lost opportunities allowed to slip away. So much wasted time. So many lost chances at love. Bradford came to mind, and I brushed away a tear. He was my greatest loss of all.
From the kitchen, I heard the soft murmur of Daddy’s voice, and I approached with extreme caution to see him sitting in his usual spot at the corner table with his Bible opened before him. He didn’t lift his head as I wafted closer but continued murmuring in an urgent voice. I heard my name burst out in a painful whisper, and I realized he was praying for my recovery.
Tears dripped from his face to land on the crinkled pages spread before him. Before I could check my reaction, I reached out to comfort him and laid my hand upon his head. He stilled under my touch and released a tired sigh.
“Ah, Jolene honey, I don’t know what to do. The doctors will only give you a few more days before they make us take you off life support or move you to another facility. Preston recommended a Dr. Peter O’Brien for a second opinion. If he can’t help you, your momma and I are thinking of bringing you home here to the farm to care for you ourselves. If you can hear me, please come back to us, honey. I called Becky, and she and Jacob are catching the next flight home. I need you to hang on, baby. Give us a little more time to figure this out.”
Tears began to flow again, and I felt another pang of remorse, knowing I had made a big mistake in coming here. Waves of crushing emotion poured over me as his sobs filled the kitchen. Feeling my spirits plunge, I drifted out of the kitchen and down the hall to my parent’s bedroom. One last look at Mama and I’d be on my way back to the salon to wake Scarlett for an all-night planning session. She could catch up on beauty sleep after I was back on terra firma and among the living. We had a succubus to round up and escort out of town. Pronto!
Thankfully, Mama was asleep—albeit a restless slumber. Satisfied that all was well with my parents, I shot through the ceiling and headed back to Dixieland Salon at top speed. I was dropping through the roof of the facial room when a strong pull on my silver lifeline had me whirling backward through the night sky until I crashed back into my room in the ICU.
Dizzy from the wild ride, I gripped the sidebars of the hospital bed until my eyes settled back in my head.
“My, my, my. How the mighty have fallen.”
Shock stole my voice as I turned to face my enemy. Lilith had shed her human form, and the Beast of the facial room rose from her crouched position to stretch long, leathery wings. Her lips stretched open, and her jagged teeth clicked and gnashed as she hissed a sulfurous giggle. “I told you not to fuck with me.” The tip of her wing drew across my physical body in a long caress.
My heart rate skyrocketed. The heart monitor connected to my body let out a warning shrill, and seconds later, a male nurse rushed through the door and stopped cold. He wrinkled his nose as if he could smell the foul breath of my visitor, and seeing nothing, rushed over to my bed.
“What brings you here?” I finally asked in a hushed voice. For the life of me, I couldn’t shake off the fear gripping me at the slimy creature’s blatant appearance in my hospital room. The heart monitor continued to squeal out a warning.
Lilith’s eyes were so red they glowed. “To admire my handiwork.”
“Okay, so now that you have, you can leave and never return.”
“I’m going, but not before I enlighten you to my next target of interest.”
I fought nausea. “Another target? I thought you wanted only me.”
Lilith laughed puffs of nasty red and yellow stinky smoke. “Ah, Jolene, you’ve been such a delightful playmate. It’s a shame I must move on, but someone else has captured my eye.”
The nurse lifted his head and sniffed the air. He looked around, frowned, and then scurried from the room.
“So you’re leaving Whiskey Creek?” A ray of hope laced my voice.
“As soon as I’ve enticed my target of interest to come with me.”
“So you no longer have any interest in my mother?”
“I never had any interest in Annie Mae.” Leathery wings beat against the glass walls making a soft whooshing sound. “Besides, I’ve found a more interesting plaything,” she purred as the slimy creature began a slow transformation back into human form. “I’ve become attached to a man, Jolene. An extremely handsome man. One I want to play with. And, funny thing, I believe he’s attracted to me.” The transformation was complete, and her stunning amethyst eyes glittered with triumph.
“Roddy,” I replied flatly, numb with fear. “Dear God, you’re after Billie Jo’s husband.” I couldn’t stop the tears from coming to my eyes.
Lilith caressed her breasts and sides with manicured hands. “Yes, my dear, Jolene. Soon he and I will taste the forbidden fruit, and he’ll be lost to Billie Jo. Once I have a man, he’s mine forever.” She walked over to the ventilator machine. “Don’t be a fool, Jolene. I know what you’re thinking. You can’t stop me, but I can stop you. Time for you to dance with the devil.” With those words, she pressed a button, and another shrill alarm sounded as the ventilator shut down.
****
Evidently, Heaven was a gated community, and I was reminded of the Westgate Country Club off Old Dalton Road back home in Whiskey Creek. Admittance to the ritzy social establishment was strictly monitored, and only the city’s elite crossed those restricted doors. Did the same rules apply here? If so, I was positively out.
Feeling a tad warm in the brilliant sunshine, I glanced down at my jeans and flannel shirt and snake boots. Definitely inappropriate attire up here. I waved my hands in front of my face to create a breeze and climbed the steps to the top. Through the gates, I glimpsed a golden cobblestone road which meandered through the meadow of wildflowers toward the towering green mountains. I tested the gate and found it unlocked. The heavy gate squealed a protest as I pushed it open and stood on the threshold, uncertain of what lay ahead and if I should enter therein.
Surely, this wasn’t the main entrance into the Golden City in the sky? Not an angel or celestial citizen within sight, and I’d always been led to believe that our deceased loved ones would be waiting at the gates to welcome us in.
No one waited for me. Nada. Not even Grandpa and Granny Tucker who I was most anxious to see.
Which led me to believe that I wasn’t expected.
I could follow the cobblestone road.
It was, after all, the only way to find someone to give me directions back to the living. I had to get home and save Roddy from Lilith’s seducing demonic wiles. Billie Jo’s marriage depended on me finding my way back to Whiskey Creek, and for that, I would need the help of the supernatural kind.
Saint Pete was in there—somewhere just over the mountain peaks awash with golden light and smelling of the Texas Bluebonnets in spring. I hurried forward even though I had no clue what to expect of this adventure, and didn't even know if I was on the right path.
A light sweat peppered my upper lip and forehead by the time I reached the edge of the meadow, and I stopped to roll up my sleeves and remove the cumbersome snake boots. I wasn’t completely barefoot, so I trekked on in my green plaid winter socks. A little farther down the road, I came upon a bubbling brook, with crystal clear spring water, lined by tall Birch trees filled with chirping songbirds. I quenched my thirst and pressed onward.
Ahead of me, nestled in a field of golden oats, I spied a pretty white horse. It lifted its head as I approached, nicked a soft greeting and trotted over to the edge of the field as I stumbled to a halt.
FYI: I’m not a fan of horses, and growing up on a farm with the temperamental steeds hadn’t changed my mind one iota. They bite and kick and smell funny. And buck you off at the slightest inclination. No manners at all. I gave up the country life a long time ago for the creature comforts of the city, and I had no interest in reacquainting myself with farm animals. Even a heavenly pony with friendly, brown eyes.
The horse and I eyed one another. He lowered his head for me to pet, but I backed up a step and lifted my hands in self-defense. “Nothing personal, Mister Horse, but I’m in a hurry if you’ll excuse me.” I tried to step around him, but he blocked my way.
I put up hands of caution. “Stay back.” I made a dismissive wave. “Go on, fly away like a good horse. Shoo, horse, shoo.”
The damn horse actually smiled, then stamped a hoof as if he were trying to tell me something. It was then I noticed he was bridled and saddled for riding.
“Forget it, Mister Horse,” I said as I backtracked several steps. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need a ride. I can find my own way, thank you very much.”
The horse wouldn’t let me pass down the golden cobblestone road. Finally, in desperation, I swung a leg over his back and settled into the saddle. Once my heart rate slowed, I took the reins in hand as I’d once done as a child and pressed my legs against his sides. “Giddy-up.”
The horse clamped the bridle bit into his mouth and shot into the air. I let out a scream and clung to the saddle horn as we sped through the countryside in the direction of the mountains. With a mighty stride, the horse galloped over the crags and cloud tops until the last valley came into view. There, in the midst, sat the Golden City like a king’s crown on a green velvet pillow.
I screamed my indignation and tightened my hold as the horse dove downward toward the golden streets intersecting in many directions. Startled celestial citizens gaped up at me as the horse’s hooves came down on the golden avenue in a hasty landing. His hooves clattered to a stop in front of a white-columned brick mansion. The sign on the fence read: Supervisor of Foreign Affairs.
I scrambled out of the saddle. As my feet touched the cobblestones, the white horse trotted off in the opposite direction leaving the bridle and saddle, along with my snake boots, resting at my feet. Not confident I was in the right place, I glanced up and down the golden street for a better option. Seeing none, I left them there, unlatched the gate and went up the steps to the front door and rang the bell. The Southern rock music I’d heard earlier had dissipated over the mountains. Here, in the Golden City, the background noise mixed with the murmur of conversation and the harmony of laughter against the backdrop of angelic singing. Scarlett had mentioned the Hallelujah Choir in her threats. Must be them. Nice.
The door swung open and Saint Pete stood on the threshold. “Good gracious, what are you doing here?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” I rubbed my sore backside and pushed past him without an invitation. “You’re supposed to be on top of these things,” I accused in a gruff voice. “I told you I needed one of those damn flaming swords.”
He closed the door behind me. “Watch your language, young lady. You’re on hallowed ground.”
I glanced at the richly paneled walls and plush Turkish carpet under my stocking feet. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, casting soft light over the foyer. “This is a nice place, Pete. Do you suppose I could have a glass of iced sweet tea with a lemon wedge? And, I hate to ask, but can I have another change of clothes? It’s hot up here, and I had to hitch a ride on a horse.”
He led me into a quaint French country kitchen. “Have a seat, young lady while I prepare a cool beverage.” He snapped his fingers, and the jeans and flannel shirt were replaced with a knee-length navy blue sheath with matching pumps and a string of pearls.
“Thank you, much better,” I said, and sat down at the glass-topped table in the breakfast nook. My surroundings were comfy and luxurious I noted, while I waited for him to join me which wasn’t long.
Saint Pete set a glass of amber liquid on the table in front of me. “Now, if you would please explain the circumstances which caused you to be here. I didn’t authorize your release.”
I sipped the tea. “Lilith ambushed me and shut off the ventilator.”
He shook his head in dismay. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Where’s your sidekick, Scarlett?
“Getting her beauty sleep, I suppose. I took off on my own.”
“Which is why you ended up in trouble.”
I shrugged. “So send me back.”
“Sorry, but you entered the Pearly Gates of your own accord, and there is nothing to be done. I’m not in the position to reverse your decision.”
“Wrong,” I corrected him. “I entered wrought iron gates. And I thought you were the Boss? Isn’t your word law here?”
He frowned. “Those gates are supposed to be locked.” He got up from the ta
ble and crossed the kitchen where a red telephone rested on the bar. He pressed a large silver button.
“How may I help you, Saint Peter?” a voice echoed from the speaker.
“Send a messenger to Dixieland Salon ASAP. I want Scarlett Cantrell back here. Pronto. And see if you can locate Sonya. She has some explaining to do. Death Angel, indeed.”
“Yes, sir. Dwayne is available for immediate dispatch, and Sonya is back at Hit Squad headquarters.”
Saint Pete turned to gaze at me with kindness. “You have my profound apology, Jolene. This incident is entirely my fault. I should’ve realized you and Scarlett weren’t equipped to take on Lilith. She’s too powerful for human spirits. She requires my best warrior angels. I see that now. She was even able to pull the wool over Sonya’s eyes. I believe it’s time for her to retire. She’s earned it, and there’s a new guy that’s perfect for the position.” He smacked his hand against the marble-topped bar. “However, the bucks stops here, and because of my mistake, I will see that you’re promoted to a bigger and better mansion in the best neighborhood in the northern quadrant of Paradise. After your trial, that is.”
I squared my shoulders and gave him a determined smile. “I don’t want a mansion in the sky. I want to go home to my red-brick house on Pinecone Lane.”
“Impossible. I told you that.”
“And you admitted you’re responsible for my death,” I reasoned. “The least you can do is give my life back.”
“It would take an act of God to achieve such a request.”
“Well, this is Heaven, isn’t it? I assume He’s here?”
His eyes bugged. “Young lady! One doesn’t approach the throne with such a flippant attitude.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean me. This is your mistake to fix.” I drank the tea and set the glass on the table. “It’s the right thing to do. I’m sure you don’t want a scandal like this to get out? What would the Headmaster say to that?”
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