Letting Go

by Carrie Lange

  Rale’s lips trembled slightly and turned up in a tiny smile. “No. I would never hurt you.”

  “Then what? What would have happened?”

  “You would have remembered.”

  “Remembered what?”

  Rale shook his head and receded back into the darkness. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re leaving and where you’re going there are no more questions. Everything will be revealed.”

  “It matters to me now. What would you have shown me?” Dan took a step toward Rale, heart pounding, ears ringing.

  Rale cocked his head to one side. “I would have shown you what Tar saw when he first met you.”

  “How do you know what he saw?”

  “Because I saw the same thing.”

  Dan didn’t say anything, but neither would he drop his gaze. Slowly, he saw the hardness in Rale’s face soften, his eyes relaxed, he sighed.

  “Tar and I weren’t drawn to you by sheer luck. Did you think we were?” he said.

  Dan furrowed his eyebrows. “Tar said he heard me calling out for help.”

  Rale nodded. “True. He’s heard a lot of those cries over the years. They wake him up. But, it was more than just that with you.”

  Dan held his hand out toward Rale and took another step closer, backing Rale into the corner. “Show me what you saw.”

  Rale looked at Anne for a moment, and then back at Dan as if deciding something. “All right.” He reached forward and wrapped his hands around Dan’s forehead.

  A black veil dropped over Dan’s vision and he was momentarily dizzy, not sure which way was up or down. Warmth flowed over his head and trickled down his body like a hot shower. He inhaled the moist heat and opened his eyes.

  Dan’s hand was still outstretched, but it looked different now. It was small like a child’s hand and dark brown. He pointed to a boy who was running away. Dan cried. Another boy ran up beside him and put his arms around him.

  “It’s okay,” the boy said. “Desi will come back.”

  As the shower of heat moved down Dan’s body, it washed him away, nestling him in a recessed corner of a forgotten dream.

  As though rising from a pool, Angelica broke the surface with a shimmering ripple and rose up. The memory clear, the black veil lifted. She looked at her hands. The hands of a woman.

  The veil before her eyes was white, as was the gown she wore. Her wedding gown. Her groom stood before her and she smiled. “Amadeo.”

  Rale shook his head, his eyes grew misty. “No.”

  Angelica lifted the veil over her head. Then she took Rale’s hands in her own. “Yes. I remember. You are my Amadeo. It is time for you to come home.”

  Rale blinked and tears fell from his eyes. “It’s my fault you died.”

  Angelica reached up and wiped the tears from his face. “I forgive you.”

  “My brother …”

  Angelica smiled. “You don’t need his forgiveness. Forgive yourself and let go of him.”

  She lifted herself up on tip toes, wrapped her arms around Rale’s neck, and pulling him down, kissed him. “Weep not, my husband, for I have been to the white shores. There we will be reunited. It will be but a moment, and all of eternity will lie before us. I came back to find you, and here you are. Come home. I forgive you.”

  Rale gave a choking sigh and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Angelica felt Rale moving away from her, felt a tightness around her forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

  A cool breeze moved over her skin, and as if waking from a deep sleep, she felt a distant sensation of awareness creeping through her mind. Dizziness pulled her body to the left as she faded away into a haze of forgotten memory.

  Dan opened his eyes and blinked. Rale took his hands off Dan’s head and looked away.

  For several moments Dan was disoriented. He was himself again, yet all of his past life as Angelica lay before him now. Her childhood, love, grief, betrayal, death. He looked into the eyes of the man she had loved.

  Dan took a step back, his legs weak. Holding his hands up in front of him, he examined them. They looked like his own hands again. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The memories, which at first seemed so real, were now fading into a dream-like, gauzy shadow. Yet the understanding remained.

  “Rale,” he said, his voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I mean, why attach yourself to Anne? It’s like you wanted her to die. I thought you loved her, wanted her to die so she would be with you.”

  Rale sighed. “I knew Tar didn’t want you to remember. He’s afraid. And it’s not that I wanted Anne to die, but I thought if she did, you would let go of her and this life. I thought maybe you would remember me in that one instant. I…I’m sorry.”

  “I…don’t know what to say.” Dan looked down at his hands, his real hands now. These were the hands that had so many times rubbed his eyes and his face in a feeble attempt to rub away the tension, fear, unrelenting anxiety. At times, he had wanted to rub away his face, his very existence.

  What existence was there left of him now?

  A tiny voice broke the silence. “Hi Dan.” Alexandra sat up in the bed, looking at him.

  Dan smiled. “Hi Alexandra.”

  She crawled to the end of the bed and looked over toward Rale. “I know you.”

  Rale inhaled sharply and then went over to her and kneeled beside her, tears welling in his eyes and spilling over. “You do?”

  Alexandra cocked her head to one side, a puzzled look on her face. “Why you cry? You hurt?”

  Rale clenched the down comforter in his hands. “I-I-”

  Alexandra put her hands over his. “You’re a good boy, Amadeo. You go home now.”

  Rale let out a trembling sigh and bowed his head. Alexandra patted him on the head as he faded away into coiling darkness.

  She giggled as she watched the shadow slip away. Then she looked up at Dan, eyes sparkling with joy. “You going home, too, Dan? You saying bye now?”

  Dan sat beside her on the end of the bed and nodded. “I didn’t want to leave you and your mother before. But I think I’m ready now. I’m sorry that I died, Alexandra. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dan.” Alexandra turned to look at Anne for a moment and then back at Dan. “Mama be okay now. Last time, we bof died, and she never got to grow up, poor baby. But I’ll take care of her real good this time.”

  Dan hugged her, burying his face in her soft, downy hair. Breathing in the smell of her. “I know you will, sweetie.”

  Anne’s sleepy voice called out. “Hey baby, what’cha doing down there? Come back up here before you fall off the bed.”

  Alexandra leaned up and kissed Dan’s cheek and whispered, “Bye bye Dan.”

  Chapter 59

  Anne leaned down, picked up her sleepy daughter, and laid her down beside her in the bed. “Who were you talking to, sweetie?”

  Alexandra’s eyes sparkled. “Dan! You was right, Mama, he’s dead. Now he’s leaving. I said it was okay. That’s okay, right Mama?”

  A sharp pain zinged through Anne’s chest and her eyes darted around the dark room. He’s leaving? No! Wait! Dan, are you here? Don’t leave me!

  “Mama?”

  Anne squeezed Alexandra and smiled. “Yes, baby. Of course that’s all right. Dan’s in Heaven and that’s a good place. He’ll be just fine there.”

  As Alexandra drifted back to sleep, Anne’s thoughts raced. She suddenly felt like she was suffocating. Was Dan really leaving? Had he really been with her the whole time? Or did Alexandra just have an overly active imagination?

  And she wondered if it even mattered if he were there or not.

  Real, or illusion?

  Life, or death?

  Dan, or Alexandra?

  The memory of her fleeting passion for life faded from her. It wouldn’t be that easy, she realized, but maybe she had taken her first step. Perhaps she could try living without Dan after all.

  Her eyes fluttered and drooped as th
e velvety darkness of night drew her down into its depth.

  “Anne.” Rale’s soft voice startled her.

  More illusion?

  “Anne,” he whispered again. “I’m here.”

  Anne breathed a sigh of relief, and turning her head slightly, she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. “There you are. I thought maybe I had imagined you.”

  He smiled softly and said, “Maybe you have imagined me the whole time.”

  Anne’s eyes narrowed and her heart fluttered. A sinking feeling tugged at her abdominal cavity. “You’re leaving me too, aren’t you? Now that I’m getting better, my sanity is returning, isn’t it?”

  He reached out and touched her face with the back of his hand. The coolness of his touch traced down her cheek and neck. He followed it with his gaze and then looked up into her eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

  As Anne looked from him to the sleeping form of her daughter, she realized that she could no longer hold onto both of them. Whatever Rale was, it was no more than the memory of a dead man. And no matter how hard she had tried, there was nothing of that memory to hold onto.

  She had groped in the dark for so long that the darkness had almost consumed her. “You promised not to leave me unless I asked you to go.”

  Rale’s searching gaze froze. “Anne––”

  She shook her head and put a finger to his lips. “Rale, it’s time for you to go. In a strange kind of way I love you. But I don’t need you anymore. I belong here, but you don’t. I understand that now.”

  Rale bowed his head and grasped her hands in his own. “You’re such a young spirit, Anne. You have so much living left to do.”

  “Are you taking Dan with you?”

  Rale shook his head. “He’s the one taking me with him. He saved me, Anne. I wanted you to know that.”

  Anne smiled. “Are you going to be happy now, Rale? Are you going to Heaven?”

  Rale nodded. “I think so.”

  Chapter 60

  O Lord! Ooh, you are so big! So absolutely huge. Gosh, we’re all really impressed down here, I can tell you.

  ~ Monty Pyhon, The Meaning of Life

  ~~~~~

  Dan led Rale back to the edge of the lake, for he remembered the way as if he had traveled it many times before. This time it didn’t take as long to get there.

  When they stopped beside the water Dan said, “What now, Rale? Jump in?”

  Rale shook his head and pointed to the woods off to the right. “No. We need to go in there.”

  Dan turned and began walking toward the trees. “Okay, what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” After a few steps he stopped and turned to Rale, who hadn’t moved. “What is it?”

  Rale hesitated before answering. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  As they approached the forest, Dan saw that what had appeared as tumbling fireflies before was actually a golden light twinkling from behind the trees. The light seemed to dance as the branches and leaves fluttered before it in a warm, gingery breeze.

  The smell of fresh baked sweet potatoes caressed his senses and wrapped his spirit in a blanket of warmth. This is what Heaven smells like? How perfect.

  At the edge of the forest, the narrow shore of land cradled an edge of frothy, white waves which stretched out into a wide sea of blue. Dan ran his eyes along the rocky shore and out toward the calm, azure waters. In the distance, the golden light of a swollen, heavy sun set over gleaming white shores.

  Dan inhaled sharply and turned away, fearful of the light. He shielded his eyes with one hand and looked at Rale. “Is that real Heaven?”

  Rale looked at his feet and nodded. The darkness which seemed always to cling to him was illuminated. Glimmering shadows curled and wrapped closer around him.

  Dan squinted at the coalescing fog which rose up from Rale like steam off hot pavement. Even as it rose up, it seemed to try in vain to reach back down, toward him. But the radiant, golden light was stronger, and bit by shadowy bit, the darkness seared away. Rale stood, with his head bowed, body hunched over slightly, his arms wrapped protectively around him.

  Dan touched his shoulder. “Rale, what are you afraid of here?”

  Rale lifted his eyes. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough. Of all the things I did, the worst of me was here, at the end. With you. I lied. I wanted her to die, Dan. I wanted her to kill herself. It’s all I was striving for, and I hated you for it. And most of all, I hated myself for it.”

  His chin trembled and he took a deep breath. “And now, we’re going to go in there together, and Angelica will see all of me.”

  Dan smiled. “It’s okay, Rale and I’ll tell you why. It’s okay, because the truth is, I wanted her to die too. Even at the time, I knew it was wrong, but that didn’t matter. I wanted to be with her so badly, that I longed for her to just do it. But now, I forgive myself. And I’m not Angelica, I’m Dan. Right here and right now, that’s who I am. Just plain Dan. I forgive you, Rale. And we are not going to go in there together. You’re going alone. I’m not quite finished here yet.”

  Rale blinked his watery eyes, and nodded. His body relaxed, his arms fell down to his side, and he stood up straight. Closing his eyes, he began walking toward the water. With only the slightest hesitation, he waded out up to his knees. The silvery sheen of the water seemed to caress him and coalesce around him.

  He turned back to Dan, all the shadows fell away, and the radiant spirit shone forth at last. He smiled. “I hope you bring Desi back with you. Tell him I forgive him.”

  With no more hesitation, he slipped down under the water and was gone.

  Dan watched the water silently for a moment, and then he began to feel as though someone was watching him as well. Turning around, he was not surprised to see Tar in the distance.

  As he walked over to him, he thought back to that time which now seemed so long ago, when he first met Tar. He had thought Tar an angel, maybe even God. Thought him wise and powerful and perfect.

  And he realized now that it was because Tar was not those things, that he loved him all the more.

  As Dan approached, Tar chuckled, “I see you finally got that little blighter to go.”

  Dan nodded. “Yes, and I think it’s time for you to go as well. Don’t you?”

  Tar shrugged and sighed. “Perhaps.”

  Silence, the muffled kind which drapes a blanket around all a person’s senses, surrounded Dan. It was a heavy silence, weighted down with the burden of loneliness and grief.

  Tar would never leave this place.

  “Tar, Rale wanted me to tell you that he forgives you, and…he showed me…well, he showed me who I was before. I remember Angelica now. He touched me, and I remembered. She forgave Rale. If you want, I could––”

  He reached out toward Tar, but Tar stepped away.

  “No,” Tar said, shaking his head, terror in his eyes. “Leave me alone.”

  And with no theatrics at all, he vanished into thin air.

  Chapter 61

  Don’t let go too soon and don’t hang on too long.

  ~ Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

  ~~~~~

  A few days had passed since September 11th. The stories of victim’s heroic struggles for life against impossible odds fueled Anne’s feelings of shame over her wanton disregard for her own life.

  It’s not that she was cured of her grief, or even her desire for death, but she was ashamed of it. Ashamed that she would so willingly give in to that grief, abandon her daughter just like Dan had abandoned her.

  Watching the video of helpless victims forced at flames edge to jump from hundreds of feet up, for a last few, fleeting moments of glorious life made her realize just how precious and fragile life really was. Those people did not want to die. They were pushed from those ledges of scorching metal and now instead of wishing she could join them, what Anne desperately wished, was that she could have caught them.

  She imagined the cruel hand of fate, grasping her daughter in its clutche
s, from the other side of a wall of flame. As Anne tried to reach through the fire, fate reached out and shoved her. Instead of release, she felt anger. And instead of an overwhelming desire for sleep, she felt an increasing need to talk to Chris.

  His words echoed in her mind over and over. “I don’t want to die anymore. I want to live. And I want you to live too.”

  It was time for her to make that choice, to ask for help or walk out the door. Dan chose the door, and she hated him for it. And at the same time, she now understood, because she had experienced the same things he had experienced.

  He had been unable to see past his depression. He had thought he was doing her a favor, thought she would be better off without him. He had no idea what kind of effect his death would have on her.

  Maybe she could try to forgive him now. More than that, maybe she could try to forgive herself.

  “Dan,” she said to her empty apartment, “I don’t know if you can hear me or not. I would have done anything for you. I’m sorry you didn’t know that. There were a lot of things that I missed, a lot of things that I did wrong. I’m sorry that I messed up so many things. I’m sorry you died. But, it wasn’t my fault. I know I probably won’t believe that tomorrow, but right now, right this second, I know it’s true. You left me. You walked out the door. There were a lot of things that you missed too, Dan. But I forgive you. I still love you, and I know I’ll always miss you. But I’m going to try and let you go now.”

  It had been almost four months since Dan died. Maybe long enough to try and start a life over again.

  When she called Chris that night, she had a smile on her face, and for the first time since Dan’s death, hope in her heart.

  Part 5

  Letting go.

  Tar told me I had to do it the first time I ever met him.

  Only, it really wasn’t the first time, was it?

  When I think of Angelica now, I remember her, but it’s like remembering a dream. At first, it was clear, and it was real. Now, it feels like a million miles away. I suppose I let go of her, and I wonder why Tar won’t.