Just Like Heaven

by Steven Slavick

  Noticing her, he let out a cry of sorrow, and the gun slipped from his grasp. He talked about how guilty he felt that she had died, about his failure to prevent her death, about how he couldn’t see past this mistake and forgive himself. Throughout it all, Nina listened and nodded with understanding and compassion. And just before he exited that dream for another, without saying one word, she smiled at him to let him know that she felt at peace, that she didn’t blame him for her death, and that she wanted him to live a long happy life.

  Even now, Nina didn’t know what part Aurelius had played in her death or how she’d passed away, but she remained with his guide a little longer to discover that Aurelius had gained strength from her visit and that, with time and deep introspection, he’d come to forgive himself and move on with his life.

  So Nina was convinced that each time Harold entered Nick’s dreams, he did so to alleviate his brother’s pain and to express that he was happy. But she couldn’t tell Nick all of this because he wouldn’t believe her. It made her feel useless.

  “Harold!” Nick shouted, looking distressed as he moved around the couples waltzing, passing those doing the Macarena and stopping on the fringes of those doing the Electric Slide. “Harold!” He yelled, his voice cracking in pain.

  Nick’s voice had broken through the private songs playing for every couple on the dance floor; people stopped dancing and turned to stare at Nick with quizzical looks. They traded glances with their partners and exchanged a few words, which Nina couldn’t decipher, since so many individuals spoke at the same time.

  Throughout the dance club, people came to a halt and pressed forward to gaze at Nick with questionable expressions: while most looked crestfallen, others appeared down, either unwilling or unable to bear the confusion and anguish that penetrated Nick’s soul. Still, they drew closer in silent but tentative steps. Within moments, they had created a circle around both of them.

  “What’s going on?” Nick shouted. He curled his own around her, shielding her from the assemblage of people who stared at him. “Why are you all looking at me?”

  Nina didn’t have the heart to tell him that they were fascinated by him: enthralled by his conflicting emotions and negative energy while also glum that he experienced such discomfort. After all, they inhabited a place where happiness reigned and no one felt uncertain or unloved. Nick reminded them of their own past incarnations on earth, reminded them of the hardships they had endured, reminded them of the fear and rejection and unhappiness that had consumed so much thought and energy..

  “What have you done with my brother?”

  “They’ve done nothing with him,” said Roland, stepping out of the crowd and walking toward Nick and Nina. “How could they? This is your dream, isn’t it? You’ve created this existence. Not them. If anyone made your brother disappear, you only have yourself to blame.” He stopped only a few inches away from him.

  “You’re lying,” Nick said, tone faltering. “You’re tricking me.” He scanned the faces around him. “You’re all crazy. Leave me alone.” He released Nina’s arms and placed his palms to his temples, bending over, shrinking as though thousands of voices had entered his mind without the capacity to banish them. “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone.”

  Roland stepped forward and extended his hand, about to take Nick and disappear, stranding Nina among a group of disheartened souls.

  But if they retreated elsewhere, Nina didn’t know when she’d see him again. Surely, Roland had plans for him, and she got the impression that Roland wanted him to spend as little time as possible with her, so she reacted quickly by taking Nick’s hand and wishing herself elsewhere. Within an instant, they vanished.

  *

  “What are we doing here?” Nick asked, standing on a cliff overlooking an ocean of waves that crashed against the rocks below. The water looked so far down that he could barely see the blue surf. Nearing the edge, he spun back to her. “Why did you take us here?”

  Nina reached out towards him, but her feet locked in place as though glued to the rocky terrain. She waved her arms in the air with desperation. “Come back.”

  “What’s the big deal?” he asked, pivoting around again and approaching the ledge. He peered down. “Damn that’s far down. It’s got to be thousands of feet…no, way more than that. From this distance, it looks like the water is miles away.”

  “Don’t go any further…please.”

  The rocks under his shoes felt unsteady and Nick wavered, arms waving in windmill fashion. A shot of distress shot through him. “Whoa.”

  Nina screamed.

  He regained his balance and put a hand to his chest. “I’m breathing so heavy.” He laughed and adopted Roland’s accent: “Is that air you think you’re breathing?” Chuckling, he said, “If it’s really like that in heaven, I bet smokers will be pretty pissed off.”

  “It’s not funny.” Trembling, Nina glanced down, afraid to look over the edge.

  “Hey,” he said, approaching her. “What’s wrong?” He slipped his arms around her waist, feeling that strange gelatin sensation overtake him. But a moment later, the warmth of Nina’s essence seeped into his pores. He felt a strange mixture of emotions: uncertainty and fragility, strength of character, faith in others and in herself, a peaceful spirit…

  Startled by the connection, he pulled away, but separating from Nina felt like loneliness lashed at his soul. “What was that?”

  Nina staggered from the disjoining and almost fell to her knees. She recovered and put a hand to her forehead, wincing in pain.

  “We held each other before…in the dance club. But just now it felt different. Why did it change? Why did I feel…you?”

  She straightened her knees and met his gaze, still suffering from the aftereffects of their parting. “When we were dancing, we were content, but we didn’t embrace like we did a moment ago. This time…our feelings changed. We care about each other. And that’s why we were able to feel each other.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” he said, pacing back and forth.

  “You don’t have feelings for me?”

  He met her gaze. “I didn’t say that.” Then he looked away. “I just…I just…”

  “You what? Say it.”

  “This is all make believe. I don’t even know you. You’re not even real. You’re in my imagination. I made you up. When I saw you in the diner, I couldn’t get over how fun you seemed…and I decided to turn you into something I could care about. You’re not this great in real life. How could you be? I’ve twisted my dream to the way I want things to work out between us.”

  Nina lowered her gaze. Once more, she concentrated on the rocks under her feet, as though expecting to slip and fall at any moment. “So I’m fake? I don’t even exist?”

  “You don’t understand.” He extended his arms wide. “All of this is not real. In real life, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. And since this is my dream, I’ve made you into someone…special.”

  “You keep saying that. When you say ‘special,’ what do you mean?”

  Nick opened his mouth to speak then snapped it shut.

  “If this is all a fairy tale, why won’t you just say how you feel?”

  “Because saying it makes it real.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what you want?”

  “No, I don’t want it. Because I don’t believe in it.”

  “You don’t believe in love?”

  “I do. I just don’t believe that love…ends in happiness.”

  “Because of your parents. Because of your brother.”

  Nick hated hearing the truth. He could think it. No harm could come from that. But hearing it made it more authentic. “You know what,” he said, anger fueling an energy boost. “I’m going to prove it.” He pointed to the edge of the cliff. “I’m jumping.” When he fell off that balcony with Roland, he discovered that they hadn’t hit the ground. Now that he was alone, Nick wanted to find out if he would crash to the ground and�
�wake up.

  “No,” she said, lurching toward him. But she stopped after only one step.

  “If you die in your dream you die in your bed, right? Well, I’m testing that theory.” He turned his back on her and ran toward the ledge. He spun back to her. You’re not real. And here’s proof.” He turned around and jumped.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “That’s a long way down,” Mei Lee said, appearing at the edge of the cliff the moment after Nick took the leap. She looked down the mountain. “I can’t even see him. I wonder where he went.” She turned to Nina. “Any ideas? Oh, but you wouldn’t know, would you? Cliff-diving was never your thing, was it Roxy?”

  Nina glared at her. She now remembered why others called her Roxy. She refused to jump off the cliff. (They couldn’t call her “Cliff,” now could they?) She didn’t have a fear of heights. She hadn’t skydived or bungee-jumped in her latest incarnation, but she had no qualms about walking around along the top of the Empire State Building or boarding an airplane. But for reasons she couldn’t identify, this cliff frightened her more than anything in her history of existence. In heaven, where no one could perish because no one maintained corporeal form, you could not “die.”

  Therefore, jumping from a cliff couldn’t harm you. Those who stood at the precipice never hesitated to take the plunge. Except Nina. She’d heard countless others say how wonderful it felt to let their souls fall through the air. But each time she neared the edge, a fear that gripped her with steadfast resolve made it impossible for her to jump. She always froze.

  But fear didn’t exist in heaven. Yet it persisted each time she stood on the rocky terrain, and she rarely had the compunction to peer down. A paralysis that she couldn’t shake possessed her until one of her friends eventually arrived to help her vacate the area.

  “Why are you so afraid?” Mei Lee asked. “What about this cliff scares you so much?” She started toward Nina. “I’ve read through each one of your lifetimes: yes, all one hundred and thirty four of them. And you know what I found out? Nothing. So why do you find this cliff so imposing?”

  Nina didn’t meet her stare. If it confounded Mei Lee, an individual who knew her better than anyone, she would be shocked to learn that Nina simply didn’t have an explanation. Which brought about a different question that hadn’t occurred to her until now: why had she brought Nick here?

  “For now,” Mei Lee said, “I’m granting you a reprieve. We still have to revisit your most recent existence on earth. And you’ve resisted long enough – with all of your visiting restaurants and dance clubs. ” She reached out and clasped Nina’s upper arm. They disappeared.

  Standing beside Nina in a darkened room while facing a white screen, Mei Lee clapped her hands and said, “Let the show begin.”

  The screen flickered to life. Five girls about eight years old wearing pajamas and standing in a horizontal line holding hair brushes below their mouths as if they were microphones came into focus. Nina, in pigtails and without socks, stood at the end of the row, holding her brush with both hands, smiling. Her four friends all turned their heads to her as one, revealing uplifting grins.

  Staring at herself almost twenty years in the past, Nina felt a smile emerge. She and her friends gathered every weekend at a different friend’s home and impersonated their favorite singers: Madonna, Gloria Estefan, Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson, and Nina’s favorite, Whitney Houston. They set up two boom boxes: one that would play their preferred songs and another boom box, set closer to the “Galaxy Girls” as they dubbed themselves during these performances, which would record their production. This night, the girls had gathered at Nina’s house.

  “Come on, Nina,” said one of her friends. “You’re on your home turf. Belt it out.”

  A drum beat followed by keyboards from Whitney Houston’s song, “How Will I Know” started on the stereo. And just before Whitney started singing, Nina stepped forward, leaving her friends behind, who clapped their hands to the beat and danced in place as backup singers. She unleashed a powerful melodic voice that left Whitney in the background. Nina wailed into her hairbrush while dancing in front of both open windows from her second story bedroom that let in a pleasant breeze.

  On the darkened street below, a Pontiac Grand Prix raced down the road, and an elderly lady stood on the sidewalk, waiting as her poodle relieved herself. Hearing Nina’s voice, she lifted her head to the window. She couldn’t see the child through the window, and even though her dog had finished and attempted to walk back home, the elderly lady remained in place and closed her eyes, a beaming smile on her face as she listened to the voice bursting from the second story window.

  The screen froze on the woman’s grin.

  “You never saw that, did you?” Mei Lee asked.

  Nina shook her head. “It was too dark. I saw her down there, but I didn’t see her face. I didn’t see her smile. It would have helped me face…what happened next.”

  The screen returned to life as the camera centered on Nina as she hit the last note.

  “—stop that racket,” her father’s voice boomed from down the hall as the music faded.

  The four girls, squirming as they exchanged disappointed glances with one another, didn’t dare look at Nina, who was red-faced with embarrassment.

  The door burst open. With a conservative haircut and a vibrant sweater that would have made even Cliff Huxtable from the Cosby Show shudder in revulsion, her father appeared in the threshold with a stern expression, his dark eyes blazing with anger. “Your mother and I have been shouting at you for over twenty minutes.”

  Nina ran over to the stereo, knelt down, and stopped the tape, while a friend turned off the other boom box.

  Her father, who had founded a PTA program for her middle school while his wife took part in their daughter’s school bake sales, glared at her friends. “I want you all to go home and think about that filthy music you’ve been playing up here: talk of ‘Nasty’ boys and being ‘Like a Virgin.’ You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Such dirty, filthy talk has no place in this house. The Lord doesn’t condone such behavior. And neither do I. My wife has called each of your parents to come pick you up. And you can be assured that I’m going to explain how you’re putting on too much make-up and strutting around like little sluts.”

  As her friends gathered their pillows and knapsacks and other belongings, one of Nina’s friends said, “Papa Don’t Preach” before exiting the room with the others.

  Humiliated by her father’s disruption, Nina expected to start crying. Instead, she dealt with the tension by breaking into a fit of laughter.

  “Oh, this is funny? You’re grounded. For ignoring us, for shaming our Lord, and for that little act of rebellion.”

  “What?” Nina asked. Moisture built in her eyes. “I laughed. That’s all. I—”

  “Two months.”

  “But I—”

  “Now it’s three. You want to go for four? Open your mouth again. Go ahead. Make it four.”

  Tears spilled down Nina’s cheeks as she shook her head at her father.

  “All summer long, you’ll be in this house. No television. No filthy music. If you want entertainment, you can read. We have plenty of books downstairs.” He stood there, waiting for Nina to object.

  But she stood there, in the center of her room, her head lowered. A tear dropped onto her left foot.

  “Good night.” He swung the door shut.

  The image on the screen paused on Nina as she hung her head low.

  And even now, almost twenty years removed from the incident that played out before her, Nina imitated her younger self: she stared down at her feet. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mei Lee watching her, but she remained silent. A new image appeared on the screen, drawing Nina’s attention.

  A big-boned redhead wearing a drab brown dress stood on a stage. Ceiling lights shined down on her, and she looked out at the few hundreds guests sitting on the gymnasium floor spread out before her. She spoke into a microphone: �
��And for our final performance tonight, we have Nina Gilford. She will be performing her favorite Whitney Houston song. Let’s please give her a warm welcome.” She clapped a hand against her wrist.

  Grandparents, parents, teenagers, and children followed suit.

  Behind a giant red curtain, a fifteen-year old Nina stepped onto the stage. She flinched from the blinding lights as she approached her music teacher. Nina reached out for the microphone with quivering fingers.

  Her teacher handed it to her, and crouched to speak into her ear: “Let them hear that beautiful voice, Nina…Let it free. Let them feel it.”

  She nodded. The microphone slipped from her sweaty hands. It slammed against the ground, and the clatter persuaded many in the audience put their hands over their ears.

  A few kids in the crowd chuckled at her.

  After retrieving it, Nina held a trembling hand above her eyes to look for her parents. A few seconds passed. Then a few more. Not seeing them in attendance, she let out a deep sigh.

  The audience waited.

  Nina raised the microphone to her mouth, her head down. “If I,” she said, whispering into the microphone, “should…”

  “Hear you,” said Ryan Hartley, the most popular guy in her class, and the only boy she’d ever had a crush on until this point in her life. Laughing, he gave his buddy a high-five.

  Behind him, a number of parents shushed the interruption.

  But thinking that they were booing her inability to start off the song smoothly, Nina’s face scrunched tight and a light squeal exited her mouth. She looked out at the crowd from left to right. Every muscle in her body locked up. Rather than clutching the microphone tight, it once more slipped from her slick grasp. It crashed to the ground, and the clatter sent an echo through the auditorium.

  Nina put a hand to her mouth, turned, and ran toward the curtain until she burst through it.

  The picture on the screen stopped on the image of the microphone lying on the stage.