Chloe

by McLeish, Cleveland

  The next day, Cleopatra is wielded into the hospital by Maud. Patrick is close behind, pleading with the woman not to go through with this. Maud does not listen to him. She is given a stack of papers. She looks them over and begins signing them.

  In the lobby, a news report is on television. An anchor recounts the story of how James Jones shot his father, who was abusing his wife, a Pastor Kathleen Jones. James is in custody and awaiting trial.

  All Patrick can do is watch as Cleopatra is admitted. She shows no emotions as Maud kisses her and leaves, passing him without a word. Before Patrick can bid her goodbye, a nurse rounds the corner and takes her down the long hallway. By the time Patrick finds his voice, they are too far away. He is escorted off the premises by a security guard.

  Chapter 19

  What was Kathleen’s church sits in ruin, unattended at the intersection. The doors, chained together by heavy metal links and a monstrous padlock, are closed permanently. A sign is posted on the door reading “For Sale!”

  People pass, whether by car or on foot, milling about their daily lives with no appreciation for the travesty. Some of them gaze at the building and reminisce. Some of them don’t even notice. The lawn is ill tended and the garden is overgrown.

  And the importance of this building will stray from all memory when it is converted into a thrift shop and convenience store.

  Somewhere in the Caribbean, Kathleen Jones moves in with her ex-husband… Greg. He swears he is turning over a new leaf, but Kathleen knows he will never truly change. But she had no choice. She was the proponent of a dead church, and the savior of no one. In order to thrive, she must be able to reach people.

  Jamaica could use her, right?

  They hug, intending to renew their marriage vows at the earliest convenience. James, wearing his usual permascowl, wanders in after her, lugging their bags with him. His father is in tears. His mother watches them warily; half tempted to take another step back. She does not know how they will react to one another. James has no fond memories of his father. Greg ambles over and hugs his son awkwardly.

  Greg will fall into his old way as the years pass, teaching James day after day how to make an irreparable mess out of life.

  Back in town, in the most popular movie theater, the audience is watching the latest summer blockbuster—a star studded action film. The seats are filled with the same crowd. The same young man sits in his seat, tearing his movie ticket into pieces within the confines of the pocket of his hoodie. No Chloe, or James. No tears, no convictions. No marriage proposal at the end of the film.

  No Chloe to reach out to him as he crosses the parking lot.

  That night, the same young man looks up into a tree he climbed often in his childhood. It is fitting that he should climb the same tree in his final moments as a teenager. He ties a knot in the rope he is carrying, strings it up on a branch, and puts it around his neck. He climbs up into the tree, jumps from the branch, and hangs himself.

  His parents find him the following morning, a picture of despair, and wallow in their grief for the remainder of their marriage together and their lives apart.

  Maud sits in prison alone after murdering Cleopatra’s father. No family. No friends. No visitors. No hope. Cleopatra has already been checked into the mental hospital. She has no one to share her season of peace with. And she starts to wonder if it was worth it.

  A few years later, James sits in prison too—isolated, angry, and bitter. The fight with his father landed the man in the hospital where he eventually succumbed to the gunshot wound and died. Kathleen was too shaken to calm him down and James had no friends to contact, no Chloe to call.

  Empty seats in churches across the world that would have been filled by all the people saved through Chloe’s writings remain empty. A ripple effect of epic proportions leaves thousands stranded at the merciless hands of an existence without hope.

  All those lives, affected by a single choice made out of selfishness and desperation—a moment of sheer panic and a need for freedom, for absolution from a passionate mistake. But that mistake would have changed the lives of millions, as Cleopatra witnessed firsthand. Chloe would have echoes across the years as a catalyst for the Christian community… and so much more.

  •

  Patrick is holding Cleopatra tightly to his chest. She weeps uncontrollably and unreservedly against him, too heartbroken to stop. They are old tears, the kind that are heartbreaking to hear and impossible to digest.

  “Chloe would have changed the world,” she sobs, knowing that for a fact.

  Patrick clutches her close, wanting above all to let her know she is safe. “God has forgiven you. I have forgiven you. You need to forgive yourself.”

  Cleopatra shakes her head adamantly. Patrick knows what she is going to say before she says it. “I don’t deserve forgiveness for what I have done.”

  Is that why Cleopatra’s mind so cleverly conjured Patrick’s death? So that Cleopatra would see Chloe’s birth as a sacrifice on her part? Something to justify having that abortion in the first place? If she had the abortion, and the baby was never born, and Patrick would not have died. Is this a way to absolve her subconscious guilt?

  But in reality, she did have the abortion and from where she stands, she can find no reason to justify it.

  She needed a reason, so her mind selected the thing most dear to her and ripped it away, as though she was living the life of a martyr in order to support Chloe. As though she was blameless and never at fault…

  Chloe could have been dear to her too. Patrick is alive. They could have been a family—the three of them.

  “Forgiveness is not something that is deserved,” he explains gently. “It is a gift freely given. You’ve carried this burden long enough. It is time to be free.”

  Free.

  The word resonates with her, casting ugly shadows on a time when she thought her baby, her Chloe, would be a cage. She lived an entire life, imaginary or not, searching for freedom. How ironic is it that real freedom should come after the realization that she already went down the path to reach it… and failed?

  She had an abortion to be free from the responsibilities of a parent, to live the life she dreamed and fulfill all her own desires. Instead, she lived in a dream, a nightmare… a cage for twenty five years.

  Patrick tries to dry her tears, but the dam has burst and there is no stopping them.

  •

  “What are you thinking about?” Patrick asks Cleopatra, ladling a hefty helping of spaghetti onto his plate.

  They sit together at the dining room table. Patrick has a much smaller apartment now, unable to keep the house his parents left him. Then again, the walls are still unpainted and there are still unopened cans in the closet. It is a smaller, shabbier shadow of the home she remembers. All that aside, her home is where ever Patrick is.

  Cleopatra scratches at her arm mindlessly—a nervous habit she developed at the ward. “I am still trying to figure out what is real, and what I imagined. It feels like something has been taken from me. It feels like I have lived for twenty three years in another world, in another body. But here, it is meaningless.”

  “I do not think it was meaningless,” Patrick negates, twirling noodles around his fork. “I think you learned a lot. You touched a lot of people as Chloe. You saw yourself in a different light too.”

  “I saw the ugliness in ma’self,” she grimaces lowly. “I never want to be like that.”

  “You would rather be like Chloe?” Patrick infers. Cleopatra nods. They eat in companionable silence for a few moments until Cleopatra sets her fork down and wipes her cheeks. Patrick realizes she is crying. He makes to get up to go to her, but she raises her hand. He settles back into his seat.

  “I need to say something,” she chokes out hoarsely. She straightens and squares her slender, boney shoulders. “I am so sorry for everything I put you through. I am so sorry for going to the clinic when you did not want me to, and for killing our baby. I am sorry I didn’t believ
e you. I am sorry you have had to spend the last two decades watching me rot away, because I was unable to cope with ma’ bad choices.” Her voice breaks.

  This time, Patrick does find his feet. He goes to her and envelopes her in his arms, lifting her frail form from the chair so suddenly that he upends it. She clings to him with all the meager strength in her hands, weeping into his shirt.

  “I love you, Cleo. I promised I would never leave you and that we would do this together. You were sick. It’s alright.” Cleopatra’s sobs taper off, leaving her body exhausted and limp. She nestles her head into the crook of his neck. Patrick smiles affectionately. “Hey. I know it’s been twenty three years, but I was still wondering… Will you go to service with me this Sunday?” Cleopatra smiles too.

  •

  A few days later, Patrick takes Cleopatra into another church across town.

  They take their seats close to the front, sitting side by side. Cleopatra’s eyes are still swollen from crying. She rarely stops. So many tears have been shed over this issue, this decision both prior to and after making it. She knows now that it was not worth it, that she could have achieved the same freedom by trusting in Patrick and having the baby.

  A young man, a new pastor in the church, is delivering the word to the congregation. She listens in silence. Patrick casts fleeting glances at her from time to time, wanting to make sure she is alright. Cleopatra highly doubts that she will ever be alright again. Near the end of the sermon, the pastor enters into his closing speech.

  “We’ve all been to that place,” he proclaims stridently. “Messed up. Cast down. Choices we have made have caused us great pain. But God wants to turn that pain into promise and joy. He wants to turn that mess into a message. We don’t always have to understand why we go through the things we do. And we won’t always understand, because we are not God. We walk by faith and not by sight. We just believe. God wants to use your pain to save others from it. Sometimes, one has to fall to stop a hundred from falling. And God will help that one to their feet once more.”

  The young man opens up his bible on the podium. He reads, “God said, “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope.” He closes the bible and steps down from the platform. “God knew you would be here today—each and every one of you. Open your heart to him. Get up and come. Declare today that you will no longer walk in darkness, but in light.”

  Cleopatra is on her feet in a flash with tears spilling down her cheeks. She knows the man is speaking to her, beset by the strangest sense of déjà vu. Patrick stands with her. He takes her hand and they walk to the altar. The young pastor meets them there. The church is suddenly on their feet.

  “All things work together for good to those who love the Lord,” the young man tells Cleopatra. “God already knows what you have done yesterday, and all the days before that. He’s more concerned with what you will do today, and henceforth.” The young man rests his hand on.” Cleopatra’s shoulder. “God saw you coming and he celebrates your arrival. We all do. He told me to tell you to let it go. You have held it for too long. Today is your day of deliverance.” The congregation applauds.

  •

  Cleopatra and Patrick sit on the front bench in silence. Cleopatra seems at peace, or more so than she was when she arrived. Members are still filing out of the building. Some of them pause to smile at her, or wish her well. She keeps their words of encouragement in the safest pocket of her heart.

  “This is ma’ first time in church,” she says with her hands folded in her lap, staring vacantly ahead. An enormous burden has been lifted from her. She has carried it so long that she does not know what to do with the freedom the lightness brings. “Still, I get the feeling God was expecting me. Back then I would have thought that guy was full of anything but the truth. Didn’t think God could talk to anyone. Didn’t think he cared about me.”

  Patrick reaches out and lays his hand on hers. And he moves closer, sitting on the edge of his seat… as though he thinks it will help his cause. “He really does care about us Cleo.”

  Cleopatra adopts a wry smile as she shakes her head. She turns her hand over, the one nestled under Patrick’s grasp, to squeeze his hand too. “Always saw you people as fanatics and church just a preferred drug.”

  Patrick manages a smile too, very much akin to the dazzling grin he used to give her. She notices that he still regards her as though she is the only woman in the world. “Guess now you’re one of us fanatics,” he supplies good naturedly.

  Cleopatra’s eyes fall to the floor. She recounts her dream life one last time. “Chloe really had an impact on me. And it wasn’t even real.”

  “Maybe it was,” Patrick offers, trying to catch her eyes.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, lifting her chin to study him.

  Patrick sets his lips into a thoughtful line, his eyes drifting aside as he considers the best way to say, “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Nobody knows her story like you do, Cleo. Maybe it needs to be told.” They meet eyes.

  Cleopatra frowns pensively as if the thought has never occurred to her, but she is not averse or opposed to it. Could she do that? Well, Chloe wrote a story. She would write a story too, couldn’t she? In fact, she could write Chloe’s story. The world would know that she lived, or lived in a sense. Would this absolve her of her sin? Could she finally forgive herself if Chloe’s life was publicized and her pains and joys made known?

  “If you don’t mind the support,” he adds, ripping her from her moment of reflection. “I would love to be there.”

  Fresh tears spring to Cleopatra’s eyes. Even if she does somehow surpass the guilt about the abortion, she will need to face the guilt about putting Patrick through such an awful ordeal—watching her waste away in a ward, never knowing if she will come out of it. He stayed with her, just as he promised, through the prime of his life.

  “You’ve always been there,” she tells him honestly.

  “Not as a friend.” At that moment, Patrick produces an engagement ring. Cleopatra is overwhelmed, in complete and utter shock. He slides off of his chair, lowers himself to kneel before her, and presents her with the ring.

  “Cleopatra, jewel of my life, my one and only, will you marry me?” She throws her arms around him, clinging on for dear life, immensely grateful and completely broken. She lifts her eyes to heaven and mouths “thank you”. Because without Patrick, and without God, Cleopatra would never survive this life. She wonders if that is the same for everyone else. It must be.

  •

  A year passes. It is a wonderful year. Back at their house, the same little place Patrick owned in their teenage years, Patrick is asleep in bed. He spent every penny he had and every penny he earned on Cleopatra’s health care, and therefore could never afford a better place for himself.

  Cleopatra sits in front of a laptop and a blank screen with an oddly familiar blinking cursor. She looks at a picture on the table of her and Patrick on their wedding day. She smiles and begins typing.

  •

  Somewhere far above, in a dimension beyond human conception, Chloe stands gazing into time. Sands and streams float and swirl before her. Any blemishes and imperfections in her human body have been burnt away by holy fire. In the vast expanse beyond, she can see images of her mother and father and a battle half shrouded in mystery. Two lives, intertwined by a series of choices, mistakes, and victories, are woven together in the ribbons of light. Changing. Evolving.

  She sees beyond the physical barrier of her world into a hidden world, and a world significantly different from hers, but familiar all the same… as though she has been there before.

  As though she lived there during a time long ago… in a dream.

  The shifting winds toy with her golden hair, hanging loose and cascading down her back. Her white gown sparkles under a light more magnificent than the sun. A radiant smirk lingers on her equally radiant face—a perfect body in a perfect place. She abides here. She has, t
o her knowledge, always abided here. Free of sorrow and pain, she dines with the divine, existing in a constant state of celebration and thankfulness. She fords silver streams and travels streets of gold. Around her, heavenly choirs rejoice in a ceaseless chorus. The living kingdom practically oozes music—angels and ancients singing praises for God’s glory.

  In the center of this crystalline kingdom is the enormous Tree of Life, constantly growing and under construction, representing every new believer in and out of the world. From this tree flows the River of Life, running in rivets throughout the city. This is a place of light and never darkness where the light of the Lord shines at all times. Here, it is neither day nor night. And there is no need to rest, as there is no weariness or burden here. No illness. No sin.

  Behind her loom great castles forged from precious stones, housing riches in sums unimaginable to the human mind. And in the largest palace, the Living God, Jesus Christ, sits on His throne, watching over His beloved world below. Standing beside Chloe is a four legged beast. It could be mistaken for a giant tiger had it not been covered with an innumerable amount of eyes. For this is God’s creature, and God sees everything. The beast turns its head to behold her adoringly. It beckons her back. It beckons her home.

  She smiles. “I’ll see you soon, mom and dad. We’re all waiting.” Chloe turns with the beast and strolls off down a golden path towards the city of treasure. The rolling fields that frame the road are magnificently decorated with soaring trees, scenting the air with blossoms and ornamented with thick, heavy fruits. The grass is impossibly green, soft, plush, and palpable. This is a place like Earth, but completely different. Better. Peerless.

  Perfect.

  The pinnacle, the epitome, of freedom.

  You will always have a choice.

  Just make the right one.

  I sincerely hope that you have found my book thought-provoking and helpful in your Christian journey. If you enjoyed reading this book, please consider helping more people find it by leaving a review on Amazon.com or recommending it to others.