Almost Heaven

by Chris Fabry

  I told her. “But she’s not my girlfriend or anything. She’s in another league.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Billy Allman. You belong in any league you choose, you hear?”

  “Then can I be in the league with the Gospel Bluegrass Boys?”

  She started to cry. Finally she said, “Letting go is always hard. I thought it was hard with your daddy and with Harless, but it’s even harder with you.”

  “Does that mean I can be part of the group?”

  “It means you can think about it. I’m not giving my blessing yet, but you can think about it.”

  I hugged her so tight she came up off the floor and dripped hot water on my shirt. “Don’t worry; maybe the guys won’t like me,” I said.

  “There’s not a chance of that,” she said. “Get washed up for supper.”

  We ate together and watched TV all evening. I was only half-there because I wondered what the group thought of me. I rehearsed what I was going to say to Pastor Turley if he called. That night I dreamed I was onstage at the Grand Ole Opry and Ernest Tubb introduced our group, only it wasn’t the Gospel Bluegrass Boys taking the stage; it was Billy’s Gospel Bluegrass Band. The crowd went wild as we stepped up to the microphones, and by the time I was finished, smoke was coming off my fingers and the crowd loved every song. It was a nice dream.

  Of course, it didn’t work out that way. Life generally doesn’t. I wish it would have, but I guess God had a different plan. What he was thinking and doing about that time of my life, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever know. And part of me doesn’t even want to know.

  7

  I observed many subtle personality shifts in Billy during high school. His interaction with peers was not affected as much as their interaction with him. They presented a limited acceptance that surprised me. Among these was his interaction with “the girl.” And he developed a deepening disdain for bullies who tread upon lower life forms.

  All of this fascinated me because I knew the truth. There was something different about him, something the Almighty would use, but his classmates could not get past their makeup and fleeting athletic prowess. Their crowns and achievements were meager, but they clung to trophies and memories as if they were truly an eternal weight of glory. This is the malady of the humans, that they can hold on to that which is fleeting and of little consequence and call it everlasting. They focus on awards, achievements, and what can be done in their own strength while the Almighty desires to work through their weakness. Very few humans, from what I have observed, ever realize how weak they really are, let alone surrender their limited abilities to the power of the One who can transform that weakness into spiritual strength that can alter the world. Billy was such a man, though from an earthly perspective, he did not have much to show for his submission.

  I also observed Billy’s growing fascination with music and performance. The pastor who befriended him allowed Billy to practice, travel, and play with their group, but there was something about him that troubled me. In the small settings of mold-ridden sanctuaries, Billy used his gift to praise the One who had given it. His shell began to break a little more each time he stepped to the microphone. Still, I wondered if this was the best use of his talent.

  About this time I was called away to another assignment. A battle that had continued for many seasons had intensified. I was summoned, given orders, and dismissed. But my questions surprised my commander.

  “I thought you would be glad to be released from your charge, if only for a season,” he said. “You have grown fond of this young man?”

  “I have grown to understand him and his motivations. And I have become fascinated with all aspects of the human experience.”

  “You want to see how the story progresses.”

  “I want to protect him. I’m not in this simply for discovery.”

  “Of course not, but part of your fascination has to do with the way each life moves forward and interconnects with others. Observing how his friendships change in high school. His romantic relationships when he is young become much more complicated. The relationship with his mother. The political and social upheavals pressing in. The speed with which all of this happens, without those on the human plane being aware, is astounding, I would think.”

  “You speak as if you have been given a like assignment,” I said.

  He smiled. “When I was given a charge during the events surrounding the glorious life and work of our Creator, I was even more convinced than you that a mistake had been made. I was built for battle. I was created for warfare, not protection. I did not want to become a human babysitter. Particularly in a place like Tarsus.”

  “Paul,” I said.

  “Yes! Saul of Tarsus, who later became Paul. Being sent to him meant that I missed much of the earthly life and ministry of our Lord. I longed to observe the life of Christ, but there I was, watching this young Jewish boy at his lessons day after day, protecting him from an errant horse-drawn cart while the whole world was turned upside down. I could see no rhyme or reason in the assignment.

  “And then, after the Death and Resurrection—I only heard of these things; I didn’t see them firsthand as you probably did—my charge became vehement in his opposition to those who followed the Way. I had been protecting someone who was actually against the very One I had sworn myself to serve. It made less than no sense, but I was stuck.”

  He turned and stared into space. I could sense emotion welling up.

  “You questioned your assignment?”

  “I did, and in doing so, I doubted more than my assignment. I doubted the One who had given it to me. But I faithfully protected him, though at the time there was little opposition. This man was doing the bidding of the evil one without the encouragement of demonic forces. But as soon as he met Jesus on that road, all the forces of hell were unleashed. I had my hands full from then on. He endured imprisonment and false accusation and shipwreck—what a storm that was—and discouragement and strife among his brethren, arguments and false teaching. I was equally as dismayed when he was in chains, thinking that I had failed somehow. I did not see that a greater good was coming from this isolation. Now, I understand.”

  He paused, sensing some concern of mine. When he asked about this, I replied, “If I were beating back the forces of the enemy each day as you did, I would be less concerned. However, he hasn’t needed my protection and watchcare either from physical or demonic forces.”

  “You are restless, then.”

  “I am eager to fulfill my role.”

  “So was I with Paul. I saw no rhyme or reason for my presence in his life before his conversion, and then afterward, the years of imprisonment . . . it made little sense to me.”

  “And you stayed with him to the end?”

  He nodded. “His last moments were . . . memorable. And though there was great pain, in the midst of that was a hint of a smile at his final breath.”

  “Is it difficult to watch the demise of a charge? For you, was it something you had to turn away from?”

  He tilted his head. “You are becoming attached to this charge, are you not?”

  “Billy is compelling. There is no arrogance or pride in him, I don’t think. Even animals sense his gentle spirit and are attracted to him. Perhaps one who has seen such difficulty and loss is better suited to humility. But I’ve often wondered about his future. If there were some way to encourage him about what will be. How he will be used. I feel like there is something ahead for him.”

  “And if you leave him now, the plans for your charge will be thwarted?”

  “I know that is fallacious thinking. The Most High is sovereign over the affairs of all mankind. And I know that though my time away from him may bring trouble, nothing is outside the realm or influence of the One who loved him enough to die for him.”

  “Precisely. He knows the beginning from the end, every hair of every head, every sparrow that falls. You and I know this intuitively since we have chosen to follow. Humans le
arn this experientially, which is what your charge will now need to learn more fully.”

  “So he is going to go through more difficulty?”

  “I have yet to see a charge who finds smooth sailing through life. In fact, the ones He seems to use and love most must go through deep valleys. The Sovereign loves them infinitely but allows them to pass through trouble. This keeps them from complacency.”

  “How long must I be away?” I said.

  “That, too, is not known. Any more than I could tell you how long you would be with your charge to begin. But let me give you ample warning.” My superior stared at me with what seemed pity and a bit of emotion I could not understand. “When you return to him, things may be . . . different. Do not blame yourself. These events to come must occur, though we do not know what they are or how they will affect your charge. Do you understand?”

  “No. How can you tell me of future things when you say you can’t even tell me how long I am to be away?”

  “Because I have been instructed by One who holds the future in His nail-scarred hands.”

  His words troubled me, but I left and traveled to my post, carrying out my duties as a warrior in the army of the Lord. I had no trouble transitioning to the battle and leading our forces against the enemy. But in certain moments I could not help thinking of Billy.

  I had no idea a life could change so quickly.

  8

  The orders came for me to return to Billy when the battle concluded. A long assignment had led to another that spread to wider regions. The more I was given to do, the more evil was unleashed, the more content and focused I became. It may seem strange that I would use warfare as my praise to the Almighty, but that is my specialty and I work tirelessly.

  Still, though I was glad to return to those hills, part of me felt estranged. I felt I had missed great chunks of Billy’s life, though in his time and space it was only a few years. When I finally settled into my routine of observance, I discovered Billy was in his own battle.

  Early on in Billy’s life he was forced to become a man, a provider, and he rose to those responsibilities. But he always retained a childlike quality. Not all humans have the ability to live in such a way. There was something about Billy’s imagination, the way he stopped and noticed small things, the extent to which he would go to help a friend or a stranger, the simple way he would return a shopping cart to the front of the grocery.

  There was a wonder to his life, and I could not tell if this childlike quality was a product of Billy’s upbringing, if it was endemic to his personality, if something spiritual led him on this path to a more simple way, or if there was some point in Billy’s life where he had become “stuck.” This quality could be deemed a two-edged sword because it made him a wonderful human being, but it also left him quite vulnerable. My experience has been that innocence does not fare well when pitted against evil.

  Not long after high school, the girl from the bus came back into his life. I assume humans considered her beautiful based on the way they deferred to her and doted, from teachers and administrators to members of the community. This beautiful one returned to that small community about the time Billy was studying at a nearby technical school. It was much less expensive than college and more practical. The truth was, Billy knew more than most teachers at the school, but he dutifully attended classes.

  The girl was enrolled in a beauty school (which seemed entirely appropriate to me), and since she had no automobile, Billy offered her a ride. Upon a cursory investigation of her home situation, I learned that her family was punishing her for some unseen infraction. She had studied at a prestigious university in the east and squandered her opportunity or money (or both) and was now paying the consequences. She was learning a trade, hairdressing, and worked odd jobs in the evening. Billy never learned how “odd” these jobs were.

  Every month or two, Billy would go to her home for a haircut. The first few were ghastly, but he always acted pleased. He would put on his baseball cap and then tip her more money than he would have paid in a salon.

  There were days when Billy did not have classes, but he would drive her anyway and wait at the nearby library until she was finished. Other times he would work overnight at the radio station where he was newly employed and make it back to her home just in time to pick her up, drive her all the way back to the school, and then drive to his own home for sleep, setting his alarm to pick her up again.

  On more than one occasion, the girl would come from the building laughing and joking with new friends, telling Billy that she wouldn’t be needing a ride that day. She was headed to a movie or dinner or a bar. Billy was always gracious.

  I had heard from others of my kind about this type of relationship. In the lull of battle they would regale us with stories of strong Christians who were enticed and drawn away by the love of a beautiful woman or, more often, the strength and danger of a handsome, rugged man. Foolishly, they believed they could reform this person and somehow cause them to believe. Sometimes, in a few isolated instances, that occurred. But more often, the enemy uses this passion and desire for the forbidden to draw the Christian from the deep water of faith into the shallow end of the pool.

  I feared for Billy because it was clear the girl had no inclination toward the spiritual. I thought of ways I could thwart him in his pursuit of her, believing that since I was sent to protect, this would be approved. A flat tire here, an injured dog there, a stranger broken down on the side of the road—all of these things would have diverted him, but only temporarily. I did not come in contact with the enemy in relation to the girl. She was already being pulled away by her own passions—I assume that is why the enemy left her alone. When an auto is in neutral and rolling down a hill, one does not need to shift into gear and push the accelerator.

  But Billy did not see. His heart was romantically intertwined. He had never so much as held her hand, other than to help her up when she was in a drunken stupor. His lips had never touched hers. She had shown him no encouragement, which is commendable, I suppose, though she did rely on him for encouragement in her dark times. He even loaned her money, if you can fathom that. Billy, without so much as a dime to his family name, loaned her the money to continue schooling. He was, in my estimation, the only person on the horizon of her life that she could truly count on for stability. The phone would ring early in the morning and Billy would rouse from his slumber and retrieve her from whatever party she had attended the night before. More than once he was summoned to the county jail.

  Call it what you wish, infatuation or wishful thinking, but the unrequited love of a beautiful woman is exhausting.

  Finally Billy somehow dug inside and had the nerve to tell her how he felt. The revelation was met with a cool response. I looked over his shoulder and read the letter she sent.

  I sensed that you felt more for me than I did for you. I love you as a friend, Billy. A very good friend who would go out of his way to help. And I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. But I just don’t feel the same way, and for that I am sorry.

  Billy wept as he read. But he still drove her to the school until her training was complete. As a graduation present, he bought her, with his own savings, a used car to drive to work. He even paid for her first six months of insurance, which she couldn’t afford. I suppose it saved him having to drive her, but I did not see the reason he would spend so much money without hope of a return on his investment. Perhaps he believed he could still win her heart. This is the way of humans, to hope in something out of reach. That hope was dashed the day his mother sat him down and told him the news that the girl was getting married.

  The most heartbreaking scene I can relate came in a park, on a summer Saturday. Billy parked far from the venue, near the tennis courts on the other side of the hill. He walked the long way around and finally stopped at a spot overlooking the garden, which was almost in full bloom. The afternoon sun warmed the ground, the scent of roses filled the air, and Billy sat in an area s
cattered with pine needles and tall grass. Here he was unseen.

  Everyone was dressed nicely, and folding chairs had been arrayed. A flower girl spread rose petals on the walkway between rows as a string quartet played the familiar strains of Beethoven and Pachelbel.

  The music lifted above the valley floor, but when it reached him, I was sure it sounded more like a dirge. The groom and best man appeared in their finery. From the back came the bride with a brilliant white dress, which I was sure she did not deserve. She took her place beside the groom and they both said their vows, which they had written themselves, amplified by the small, tinny sound system.

  “I promise to cherish and care for you as long as we both shall love.”

  Billy shook his head. He stayed on the hill, engulfed by the green trees, leaves, and pines, even after the service ended. A dog came near, sniffing at him, off the leash and wandering. Billy called the dog over with a wave, and the dog let him scratch its ear. The couple who owned it called, and the dog seemed reluctant to leave but obeyed after licking Billy’s hand.