Dream Angel : Heaven Waits

by Patricia Garber

  “To whom should I send my thanks?” He gathered my hands inside his two.

  “God,” I said, enjoying the softening of his expression.

  “Is that so?”

  We both laughed.

  “Yes sir.” I was chuckling and then crying. My father's face darkened with worry, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “What’s wrong, baby girl, why the tears?”

  I’d had the whole drive to think about what I wanted to say to my father, where I wanted to go from here. And though I’d been taught at an early age to keep God close, I often chose my own path. Sadly, I could have been the poster child for a life run amuck. It was time to let go of the reigns, but I just didn’t know where to start.

  “I-I’ve come from the cabin—” I started but daddy didn't let me finish.

  “You went to the lake, why?” He sat up straighter.

  “I needed to think, and—”

  “What’s wrong, are you sick?” My father’s eyes locked on to me in that way parents do when they’re trying to read their children’s minds.

  “I-I don’t know.” I gave a standard adolescent response, immediately wishing I could take it back.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” he growled.

  Lord, help me! I was sinking fast.

  “It’s probably nothing, but I’ve had some headaches recently and,” — I purposely left out mood swings and erratic behavior — “and I fear it might be related to my accident.”

  “When did all this happen?” He scooted back a tad.

  “Memphis or a little before, I-I didn’t mention it, because I wasn’t sure myself, and I didn’t want to worry you.” I quickly took his hands, and squeezed them tight inside my own, hoping to calm the fear I could see escalating in his eyes.

  “You haven’t been going to your check up’s, have you?” He pushed back his hair with both of his hands. “I knew I should have taken you. That’s what your mother would have done.”

  “Daddy, please, really I’m ok.” I struggled. “I’m sure it’s just part of the healing process, but I will go back to the doctor as soon as possible. I promise.”

  At first he said nothing. He just kept looking at me with that inspecting gaze of his. I longed to tell him about Steve. I really did want to talk, and unload my sorrow, but I didn’t have the stomach to share what I knew would hurt him. Instead, my shields went up. And while he watched me closely, I tugged on my shirt sleeves, desperate to hide the bruises I’d seen in the shower that morning.

  “What can I do to help?” He asked gently.

  “Actually, I’d rather help you, if that’s ok?” I waited, and his stunned silence suggested I should continue. “I’d like to come here and help.”

  “You want to help here… at the church?” His eyes widened in a surprise that made me openly laugh.

  “Yes, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not, but I have to ask what's motivated this sudden decision?”

  “Daddy, you know I’ve been stumbling down a rocky path since mother passed. You’re always preaching that God is grooming us for his purpose, and I’d like to try to find out what mine is.” I smiled big, remembering what Elvis had told me back in Tupelo.

  My father smiled tenderly. “Baby girl, you may not discover that overnight. God has his own timing.”

  “I know, but I have to start somewhere.”

  “Alright,” he nodded, and then drew me back into his arms, “and if it makes you happy my dear, you can start as early as tomorrow.”

  He held me tight, and I wanted to stay in his protective embrace forever, content to be his little girl.

  “Would you mind, daddy, if I stayed for awhile today… to sit in the sanctuary. I can lock up if you need to leave.”

  My father’s expression lifted with a look that suggested my upbringing may have finally kicked in after all.

  “You may.” He stood up, straightened his tie and grabbed his coat, “I’ll leave you to God. Oh, and use the phone on my desk to call your doctor before you leave. That’s top priority now Samantha, ya hear? And call your work.”

  I smiled at how easily he transitioned back to my commanding father, ordering me around even as he was hugging me goodbye. He was a good father, and an even better example of a God fearing man, a hero to so many in the community. Though I’d heard so many say how special he was over the years, sadly, I’d only recently come to realize the truth.

  “I love you, baby girl” He uttered in my hair.

  “I love you to daddy. Tell mama hello for me when you see her in your dreams tonight.” I couldn’t resist teasing him, and the sight of him blushing like a school boy made me smile.

  He shook his head at my silliness as he left. One day I’d tell him my secret, I thought. One day.

  ***

  When the office door shut behind my father, the room went still. Maybe it was nothing more than left over jitters, but the silence felt thick like a presence. So much so, I imagined I could hear it breathe. It was time to leave. I needed some peace, and I knew where to find it.

  From the time of my birth to the age of eighteen, I had spent every Sunday inside the old sanctuary. Long before the add-ons and additional parking, this church had been as much a part of my childhood as swing sets and ice cream. I grew up here. I’d kissed my first boy at the age of fourteen in the back pews, and later shed a tear over that same boy as we parted ways one summer, to long ago to remember the actual date.

  After I exited the office that day, I followed a long carpeted hallway and a moment later arrived at the front lobby. The sight of those weathered double doors sparked yet another memory. I was small for my age, a spitfire, and I could still see myself grunting and tugging on those sanctuary doors, refusing to accept help from the passing adults. I laughed, remembering how once the seemingly impenetrable fortress was conquered, I raced to my allotted seat down front, triumphant and contented. It seemed stubbornness was an issue even then, I thought while straightening the flower arrangements on the podium near the entrance.

  Lingering, I noticed last Sunday’s leaflets stacked neat in a pile, and I picked one up to consider it. “Hungering and thirsting for God, reminds us that only devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ satisfies our soul,” it said.

  Daddy sure has a way with words, I nodded to myself as I leaned back against the tiny welcome desk, eager to read further, and I got as far as the Bible verse of the day when a piano from inside the sanctuary began to play. My eyes stalled mid sentence. It was in the natural, informal, way in which the pianist played that evoked my immediate smile. There was no question; God was the only tutor this composer had ever needed.

  My heart leapt with anticipation as I grasped those big doors, and this time, swung them open with ease. The music gushed from the room, rushing over me in a wave that left me tingling from my ears down to my toes. At first, I made no move to enter. I simply lingered at the threshold, overwhelmed by the aroma of cedar and a lingering mix of colognes from past congregations. The unusual scent stirred fond memories of what I considered to be homespun elegance at its best. And when an “off” note echoed from the stage, my focus shifted to the pulpit and to Elvis, who looked comfortable in his rightful spot.

  Dressed in a white suit with a sky blue tie, he coordinated beautifully with the baby grand piano he sat behind. And though he would have said he was just fooling around, he played wonderfully. The music was gentle, and I took my time to approach the stage, savoring the view. Who could blame me? It had been a whole twelve hours since I’d seen him last, and with his dark brown locks, he looked just as natural as God had made him. Even more beautiful than before, if that was even possible.

  Now this was my angel, I thought as I drew closer. This was the angelic force I remembered so well, straight from my dreams. Sure, that jet-black look of his was excitingly dangerous, but “this” shy young man from Mississippi was extra special. In fact his features were so radiant, he all but glowed. And as I walked towards him
, purposely taking my time, he was right away smirking at me. I could only laugh at how he knew me so well.

  “Decided to go natural, did we?” The music stopped when I stepped up to the stage.

  “I figured you were ready for the real me,” he said and flashed me that lopsided grin.

  “Is it me, or have you always had a knack for dramatic entrances’?” I asked, and he answered back with a note that sounded a bit off key.

  “I try my best, honey.” He said with a glint in his eye.

  As I circled around to the bench by his side, his eyes were fixed on me while his hands continued to play. He was humming a tune that I was not familiar with, but I wasn’t surprised. Even alive his knowledge for hymnals was vast, and as an angel, I imagined it to be unlimited.

  “How’s our friend?” I laid my head to his shoulder.

  “Dealt with,” he said in between humming.

  As I leaned against him in quiet reflection, a flood of emotions rushed to the surface. The knowledge that I may not have been alive to see another day, if not for him, inspired a gratefulness that was too much to contain.

  “After how I treated you, I’m surprised you came back for me.” My words quivered. “I’ll be forever grateful.”

  The music suddenly stopped.

  “I’d never leave you in danger, you know that,” he said, and as he turned, he gathered my hands and lifted them to his lips for a tender kiss.

  I was already nodding in agreement, but my lip quivered as I tried to contain my tears. It seemed I was always crying in his presence.

  “I never meant a word of it, I swear. I’m just so jumbled up inside, everything I do turns into a disaster.”

  He smiled softly. “Yes ma’am I’ve noticed,” he said, still holding my hands, and managing to stroke my cheek with the back of his own.

  “I’m sick in the head.” I moaned, and it wasn’t until Elvis chuckled that I even realized how horrible that sounded.

  “You might be a bit touched, baby,” he laughed harder, “but I think you’ll be fine.

  As we continued to chuckle, he went back to the piano, his fingers rolling over the ivory keys in a swaying melody.

  “I don’t suppose you could tell me what God wants me to do now?” I was shaking my head, already guessing his answer.

  “It doesn’t work that way, honey.”

  “Then how does it work, please tell me.”

  “You practice patience and you wait. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

  I scowled at him.

  “Hey, I just work here!” He was laughing again, only this time I didn’t laugh a long.

  He cleared his throat and quickly turned serious.

  “Baby girl, I know you want me to make it easy for you, but really, I don’t know everything. And what I do know, I can’t share.”

  “Why? You knew I’d ask you to leave, and you shared that with me.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Course that’s not how I’d plan to ask you, all hateful and nasty and such, but… well, you knew.”

  A sensuous smirk crept across his face.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Exodus: 20-5.” Elvis said suddenly.

  I squinted at him, normally well versed, but needing a moment to shuffle through years of bible camp memorization.

  “Our God is a jealous God?” My mind was working the puzzle even as I heard myself utter the verse.

  “Is he ever,” Elvis whistled, punctuating the statement.

  “Are you saying you wanted me to choose? Why, does God think I love you more than him?”

  “No. I’m saying you did.”

  His words stunned me into silence. I just stared at him, the truth inducing new tears. They rolled hot down my cheek. And as I began to cry, he let out an exasperated sigh as if to say — here we go again.

  “Samantha, you have the heart of a servant, but you’ve been too distracted with me to see what’s being offered right in front of you.” He drew me deeper into his arms. “Do you think God would allow you to go through all this for nothing? He wants to use you, honey, but he can’t if I’m always in the middle.”

  I’d never considered that God, the creator of the universe, would want to use someone like me for his good. I was clearly unworthy. But after all that had happened, Elvis’ words made sense. I had to consider that had Elvis stayed away, I would have awakened in the hospital on that fateful day and believed it all to be a dream. The fact that he returned suggested a bigger plan had been in place the whole time.

  “I-I’m no good, I’m a mess… weak.”

  “He’ll make you strong.”

  Me, be a servant of God? My father yes, but I’ve always lacked the obedience and discipline it required.

  “I-I don’t see how I can help.”

  “He’ll tell you when it’s time.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll hear him, honey, if you’re listening.”

  Why me? I was not the faithful Abraham whom God had spoken to, requesting the sacrifice of his only son. I would have failed that test, never to have heard God’s reprieve, ‘Lay not your hand on the boy’!

  “Is this what angels do?” I sat up away from his arms, whipping away my tears. “Ya’ll come down here and lead hard headed people to their Godly purpose?”

  “It’s a tough way to make a living, boy, I tell you.”

  As I laughed at his quick witted humor, he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

  “So, if all of this was preplanned, what was Steve’s part?” His name almost made me retch, but there was still so much to understand.

  “Steve’s the reason I’m here, honey. He was a loose end the Devil himself was desperate to tie and you were in no condition to handle him yourself.”

  The irony that we were right back to that timeless battle didn’t escape me, and I no more understood it now than a few days ago.

  “The battle continues?”

  “Every day.” He nodded.

  My head floated back to rest on his shoulder. As he went back to tinkering lightly on the keys, I let out a relieving sigh while tilting my chin upward to look at him, examining his profile. I felt my heart stir with love once again. I know God never makes mistakes, but it seemed to me he could have sent anyone to take me down this road. Why send the one person he had to have known I would fall madly and helplessly in love with?

  “Go ahead, Samantha, ask.” He smiled without looking at me.

  I groaned, and briefly considered another round of mathematics. Where did I leave off, the nine-sees? I wondered while next to me Elvis scowled. Never mind.

  “Why you?”

  He ran a hand pensively across his chin. “I believe God counted on a love that I never fully understood, but one that continues to benefit his greater plan even today.”

  My soul stirred. I had never considered the genius behind the design. It was only in this hindsight that God’s full intentions for Elvis’ life could be appreciated. He had lived a life full of great blessings, but it was not a life of his own. He was required to share it with the world. He’d suffered to be Elvis Presley. Now over thirty years later, God had himself an angel who was loved the world over. In fact, I’d bet only Jesus himself was more recognizable. He could send Elvis anywhere to preach, as he’d always wanted to do, for God’s purpose. Who wouldn’t listen? It was beyond brilliant, it was devout. And I had to admit I wondered what God could do with me, if I was only willing.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get on without you,” I muttered and fell back into his arms.

  When Elvis chuckled, his humor bounced my head, now at rest on his chest. My nose was running from all the tears, and he’s laughing? I didn’t see any humor in this “letting go” business. I hate goodbyes.

  “Now what’s so funny?” I sniveled.

  “You, honey, still thinking you’re in control.” He laughed even harder, and I playfully slapped his arm in reply.

  “Look at me when I say this,” He lifted my c
hin so that I had to look at him, “I’m your angel until God says I’m not, understand?”

  Those baby blues were so intense I pulled back, but only an inch.

  “Yes sir.” I sniffed.

  “You stay focused on what’s important and don’t worry about me. Can you do that for me, Sam?”

  “Yes sir, I-I’ll try.”

  “Good girl,” he placed a finger to my nose. “I’ll be watching so be sure you do.”

  He was smiling, but I knew he was serious. He had given me an order, spoken with a snicker and a smirk, but an order just the same. He expected me to do as he asked. Now, I just had to keep my word.

  Chapter 23

  Outside the sun’s rays warmed the city. Steam rose up from every sidewalk, as if it were the burning of Atlanta all over again. Only in the South could the weather change so drastically, I thought. And as I stood in the church parking lot, my gaze lifted to the heavens, and I thanked God for the uplifting sight of the sun. My day was by far not over, but I could feel the Lord by my side, and that made everything easier.

  What now? Do I go home or to the police, I asked myself. Part of me was waiting for God to tell me what to do, while the other half doubted I’d even hear him if he did. My track record was admittedly bad. Besides, reporting Steve seemed futile. I trusted what Elvis had told me, he wasn’t coming back. And as I considered all my options, only one allowed me any comfort — home. I could always go home.

  Once again, I urged my car into the hustle and the bustle of the city. I was headed for small town suburbia. And after yesterday, I didn’t know what I’d find upon my arrival, but when I turned that last corner, and saw Heather’s car in my drive, my smile couldn’t have been any wider. Clearly our friendship had been given a pardon. And now more than ever, I needed my friend.

  I glided my car into my drive and shut off the engine. My stomach bounced as I glanced up the road to my right. Not a soul stirred. The neighborhood was quiet. Maybe I could just stay here, I thought and then laughed. I knew it was silly to be this apprehensive, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for — someone to yell “all clear” maybe? But after a few more counted minutes, I knew it was time to be a big girl.