Don didn’t turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the ice-blue lake that glistened like diamonds underneath the golden sky. With an indifferent shrug, he acknowledged his presence. William sat down beside him. For awhile, they watched the elegant white swans glide across the water in a slow, graceful dance. After a time he nodded at the birds that had settled near the grassy shore with their necks entwined.
“Funny, isn’t it? Even the birds have a special someone. They’re so engrossed in each other they haven’t even noticed we’re here.”
William understood his feelings of resentment. He had them himself a short while ago. Not that reminding him of that detail would bring his friend the comfort he needed. If he said such a thing, Donnie would bring up his recent success with Katie. In turn, his bitterness would increase by leaps and bounds if it hadn’t already. William understood this. How many times had he witnessed the success of others without having any of his own? Perhaps if he tried a different tactic?
“You know Don, you shouldn’t give up hope so soon. All things considered, you haven’t been here nearly as long as some who are still searching. Your companion is out there. You know this just as well as all of us do. You’ve seen it time and again. Sometimes discovering who that person is takes more time and effort than we might otherwise desire. Look at Bartholomew. He died during the Revolutionary War and he’s still search—”
“I’m way past the discovery stage, Sarge,” Don cut in. “I’ve never said this to anyone else, so I would appreciate if you didn’t either. I know who she is. You see, some of us don’t get the chance at a happily ever after like you do with your Katie, even if so decreed by Heaven. Maybe if you take a good look around, you’d notice it.”
The confession surprised William. “You know who she is?”
Don firmed his jaw. “Yep, and without any doubt whatsoever. I’ve known that cold, hard fact since my junior year in high school. What do you think of that little tidbit?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t.” Don vaulted to his feet and strode toward the strand without giving him a backward glance.
Despite the obvious dismissal, William followed him anyway. “I know it’s none of my business, but I’d like to understand whatever it is you’re going through. Perhaps I could find a way to help you.”
Don scoffed. “There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. Don’t you get it? We’re all free to choose, isn’t that right? Even if some of us make the wrong choices?”
“Yes, I can agree with that.”
Don nodded. “Now don’t get me wrong. You don’t know how happy I am you and Katie are finally together. I’m happy she can both see and hear you now. Since you’ve overcome that final obstacle, I wish you every joy and happiness. Believe me when I say your triumph is the one bright spot in my existence right now. That being said, what will you do if somewhere along the way she rejects you? She’s still young, isn’t she? What if she decides your ghostly form isn’t enough for her? Given enough time, Katie might love you more than she could ever love anyone else. But what if she settles for someone with a warm, tangible body she can feel, embrace, and cuddle up with at night instead? She might want someone she can have children with, you know. Most women want a family, don’t they? Sometimes people just settle for—and are content with—second-best.”
Not that those thoughts hadn’t crossed William’s mind more often than he could count, but— “Is that what happened to you?”
“After a fashion.”
“What do you mean?”
A faraway look entered his eye. “We were happy once, Rachel and I. In those days we were the envy of every kid and couple our age in the whole entire town. ‘Look,’ people would say. ‘There goes Donnie Martin and Rachel Jameson. Did you ever see anyone more perfect for each other than what they are? They look so happy, so in love with each other.’ Then the blasted Vietnam War began and wouldn’t you know? During the first wave I got my draft notice. In the weeks that followed, Rachel spent more than one evening crying in my arms. Before I left for boot camp, I asked her to marry me. I’ll never forget that night. We stood underneath this big, old, moss-covered oak tree in her front yard. A full Texas moon bathed her face with radiant light. I’d never seen her look so beautiful. With tears shining in her lovely doe brown eyes and a smile on her face, she said yes. I put a ring on her finger—a brilliant diamond that I’d worked and saved for well over a year to buy her. Why did I do that? Because she deserved such a ring. When we parted at the bus station, she said she’d write every day. For a while she did. Once I got overseas, but for one lousy letter, they all stopped.”
Don shook his head. “Like an idiot, I kept writing though, you know? I thought maybe her letters to me had gotten lost as I moved around from place to place. After a while—a long while—the excuse didn’t hold water anymore. After all, the other men received their forwarded mail just fine. I finally faced the fact she’d ended our relationship in the way that suited her best. The pain of that knowledge never went away, but I learned to accept it. I figured after the war ended I would come home and knock on her door. I’d ask her why she didn’t write because she owed me that much. She should’ve told me if she had found someone else or if she simply changed her mind for one reason or another. I wanted to tell her a letter would’ve been far kinder than silence. But—I never got the chance.”
“I’m so sorry, Don.” His chaotic thoughts raced far ahead of what he said aloud. “I guess you must not know where she is right now either, do you?”
“Nah, I haven’t looked. Why should I? Given her age, she’s probably still alive. If some horrid disease or accident took her early, I haven’t run into her. I think that’s for the best. As my daddy always used to say, let sleeping dogs lie or you might get bit. Besides, I don’t think I could take the pain of seeing her with a husband she loves, their children—maybe even their grandchildren—at her side.”
Long after they parted company, the conversation he had with Don weighed heavy on his mind. He worried something like this might happen after the gathering at his home. Richard had been partially right. His success had given renewed hope to the soldiers who had found their soul mates within the earthly realm and hadn’t yet gotten through to them. They were now more determined than ever to break through the barrier. But Don had fallen deeper into despair. He couldn’t have excluded him though because sooner or later he would’ve found out about him and Katie anyway. Better he found out surrounded by his friends. Right?
Still, something about his story didn’t add up. Most women didn’t have any qualms at all about writing a Dear John to a soldier. He’d seen plenty of examples of that once he enlisted in the army. The letter ended the relationship without the need for a face-to-face confrontation. With pen and paper, the girl could avoid all evidence as to the pain she inflicted upon the man who received it. In turn, that would lessen her guilt.
Yet if Rachel had accepted his ring, would she really have ended their relationship without returning it or at least offering to return it given its value? Would Don have fallen in love with someone that cold-hearted? If loneliness drove her into the arms of some fool, did she later regret it? He thought of Katie and Chad. She had been so young when she married the man. In fact, too young to make the decision she did. It didn’t take her very long to wish she hadn’t. Could something like that have happened to Rachel Jameson? Did she still love Don and mourn his loss every bit as much as he mourned her? Could she have met an untimely death as well? Did the possibility exist that she sat somewhere in the farthest corner of heaven crying her eyes out? What if he could somehow find out?
The voice at the back of his mind said it wasn’t any of his business—that no one assigned him the job of matchmaker. He knew that, but at the same time he couldn’t leave Don in such pain either. Not if he could find a way to help. If he failed in his quest, if he found she preferred another, Don need never know he tried, right? At once he dismissed the i
dea as ridiculous. He didn’t have a clue as to what the woman looked like. How would he ever find her?
No, wait a minute.
Katie had found his photograph, she said, simply by looking for it on the internet. In the same way, could she find a picture of Rachel Jameson? Would there be a record of her whereabouts if she still lived? A record would also exist if she had died, wouldn’t it? Perhaps he could even find out more than that. For Donnie’s sake, he would at least explore the possibility. Without any doubt whatsoever, he knew Katie would help him in his cause. His sweet, precious Katie.
She had never strayed far from his mind even while fully occupied with the newest arrivals under his care. He missed her more than he thought possible. He’d fix that problem right now.
William found her in the middle of the floor of her small living room. She had spruced it all up in the country colors and style she loved and Chad abhorred. All evidence of her time with the man had disappeared. That suited him fine. What’s more, it suited her as well. She looked happier and more radiant than he had seen her in a long while.
Right now “Unchained Melody” held her captive. With her eyes closed, she danced to the slow, easy rhythm of the music. He smiled at the scene she presented. As he positioned himself behind her, he gathered her into his arms and followed her steps—what there were of them anyway.
She gasped and all but stumbled as she whirled around to face him. The smile in her eyes matched the one on her face. “William!”
“No need to stop on my account.” With a bit of gentle pressure on her waist, he swept her back into the dance. She didn’t quite know what to do with her hands it seemed, but other than that she kept up well enough. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to dance with you over the years.”
Her eyes widened as she gaped at him. “You did?”
“Yep. Since I couldn’t, I took my pleasure in watching you move. You dance better than anyone I have ever seen.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” The compliment brought a blush to her cheeks. “You like to dance?”
“Love it—at least I did. I haven’t taken the opportunity where I find myself now.” He twirled her around as the song ended. “One of these days you’ll have to play some Sinatra, Crosby, or even Benny Goodman for me. If you do that, I’ll teach you the Jitterbug.”
“You’ll teach me the what?”
William chuckled. “The Jitterbug—it’s a fabulous dance from back in my day. I think you’d enjoy it though. Especially with me as your dance partner.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is that right? Well who on earth could resist that offer? I’ll try and have some good ol’ Sinatra ready for you next time you visit. I think my mom has an old CD or two buried in a deep, dark, and dank corner somewhere. If not mistaken, they used to belong to my grandmother, or was it my great-grandmother?”
“Come on now, CDs aren’t that old and neither am I.”
“Oh, yes you are. In case you’ve lost track, you were born over a century ago.” She plopped down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. “Now, come sit down beside me and tell me what you’ve been up to.”
She looked a bit mystified as he crossed the space between them and sat down.
“What?”
“I just can’t figure out how you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look, well—alive. I mean, you’re not anything I ever expected to see in a dead person.”
Once again it took everything he had not to laugh. Somehow he kept the grin at bay as well. “Really? Exactly what did you expect to see in a dead person, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“You’re laughing at me.” She leaned away from him.
“No, I’m not. I swear.”
“Oh, yes you are. I can see it written all over your face.” A bit of suspicion and a whole lot of recrimination filled her beautiful eyes. “I thought angelic beings always told the truth and here you are telling a bald-faced lie.”
“Angelic beings do tell the truth. However, I, my precious darling, am not an angel. Far from it, actually. Even so—as I said—I’m not laughing. I’m merely amused. There’s a difference you know.”
She shook her head as she placed a hand against her temple. “I don’t think I’ll ever figure this whole ghost thing out.”
The grin emerged despite all will against it. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to. At least not yet.”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “Whatever—and you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“How you move, look, and speak like any mortal being on this earth. I mean, I always thought if ghosts did exist—and if I actually saw one—I’d see right through him or her. I certainly didn’t expect the entity to walk, much less dance. I thought they’d glide along the floor or hover with scary faces, rattle rusty chains, or do something else icky. You know, like they portray them in the movies and television shows?”
“I suppose you could encounter a few disembodied beings who might present themselves in such a foul manner and for whatever twisted their reasons. Best you can do with that kind is to ignore them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“As far as projecting myself so you can see me as I was and in all reality, still am? It comes from the desire to master the skill, combined with a whole lot of practice. The fact you didn’t close your mind off to the possibility is also a factor.”
“Oh. I see—I think.”
“Good. Anything else?”
“Yes. How is it I can feel it when you touch me, but I can’t touch you without going straight through your body?”
He lifted a shoulder. “What can I say? Because I have a gifted spiritual body that can do these miraculous things, while you have an ordinary mortal body that can’t?”
“Oh, that’s brilliant.”
“I do have my moments of genius.” He squeezed her hand and then let it go. “Come on now, there’s no need to get all huffy on me. I’m just teasing. In all honesty, I think the problem lies in the human condition.”
“Explain that, please.”
“Well, the mortal body is one that is tangible—made of solid mass like flesh and bone, right? So when mortals touch each other, they encounter the physical elements of that body. In a natural way, they simply stop moving forward without giving the process any thought whatsoever. Once one leaves their physical body behind, they find their spiritual form is also tangible. It’s just made of a different composition than the mortal frame they were accustomed to. You see, spirits don’t have any problem interacting with each other in the same ways mortals do. We feel the surface of our spiritual body in the same way we did our mortal one. On the other hand, when a mortal and spirit encounter each other, the mortal—knowing only the more tangible frame—has difficulty perceiving the barriers of the spiritual form. Does that, in any way, make sense?”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” Katie first studied his face and then gazed at his hands. “Do you think that’s something I could overcome?”
He swung his head to the side. “I don’t know, but I’d sure love to see you try.”
Katie’s quiet laughter settled into an enchanting smile. “Okay then, I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Now, do you have any other vexing questions you’d like to ask while on the subject?”
“Actually, I do have one that’s related. I—uh—just wanted—can you tell me about those newest soldiers of yours, or is it not the business of a mere mortal that hasn’t a clue about how things work in your realm?”
****
Katie waited for what seemed like forever for his answer. He didn’t seem unwilling, just hesitant. Maybe even a little sad, and that sadness touched the deepest part of her heart. She shouldn’t have asked.
“A few of my boys are having a harder time than most. I have one that died in Afghanistan just as you and I parted company—a roadside bomb—he didn’t know what hit him.
He didn’t realize death had claimed him either. His confusion took a while to sort through. He told me many times over he had a lot to live for and he didn’t want to die. More than once he asked if he could return. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that option.”
“Are you saying some of them do?”
He nodded. “Every now and then that choice is open. Some take it, some don’t. In this case, he didn’t have that option.”
“Then what you’re telling me is that near-death experiences aren’t hallucinations after all,” she murmured. “Did you have the option?”
“No, no, I didn’t.” William cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Now what?”
“Nothing, it’s just—can you tell me about your experience, or is it too painful a subject?”
“What would you like to know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Everything, I guess.” She paused. “Did you die instantly—like they say I did after the lightning strike?”
“No. I made it as far as the hospital ship.”
Katie gulped. “Were you in a lot of pain?”
“No, not really.”
“That’s good. I would’ve hated it if you suffered.” She dropped her gaze for a moment. “I don’t know quite how to phrase this, but since I stepped into that realm myself, if only for a few minutes, I’ve often wondered what happens when you die. I mean, what is it like?”
William picked up her hand again and this time he held on to it. “I’d say very much like the stories your mom has shared with your family over the years. While the medics worked over my body, I stepped into the infamous all encompassing tunnel of unearthly darkness. For whatever the reason, I didn’t fear the gloom of misty shadows, though. Once deep inside it, I no longer heard the voices of the medics or the sounds of the battle. Everything outside my physical body disappeared, and that’s when the review began.”
“The review?”
“Yep, the story of my entire life laid out before me in panoramic, high definition color. I saw my moments of sorrow, joy, and rip-roaring fun.” A far-away look entered his eyes. “You know, I had completely forgotten most of those memories, so I found the whole thing kind of entertaining. At least I did until I relived the crossing of the English Channel. After all, the memory wasn’t all that old and I think I could have done without it.”
Love Letters from Heaven Page 8