Heaven's Missing Person

by Nell Weaver Lyford

Joe looked straight ahead, stole a glance at me, then averted his eyes. “I’m fine, just want them on. No worries.”

  “Okay, okay.” I sat back down.

  Joe put the glass down. He started rubbing his hands together and looking from side to side. “Okay, look, I’ve got a problem. I’m a little sick and, uh, I’ve also got, uh, a problem.”

  “What do you mean, sick?” I said. “How do you feel?”

  “A bit dizzy, nauseated. Parched.”

  “Joe,” Laurence said. “Take off the mittens.”

  “Claire, please don’t freak out.” He slowly pulled off his left glove. We saw five fingers consisting only of white, skeletal bone.

  I gasped and stood up. “What happened?”

  “Is the other hand much like this one?” Laurence said.

  “Worse.”

  “Show us.”

  His bony fingers slowly pulled off the right mitten. There was only the palm, no fingers, just holes where they should be.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I felt faint and fell back into a chair.

  “It’s what I suspected.” said Laurence.

  “What?” Joe and I both said.

  “Earth sickness.”

  “So what do we do now?” Joe said. “Surely there’s something?”

  “I don’t know, I think so, but I need to talk to some archangels.” said Laurence. “How long have they been like this?”

  “It started early this morning. They kept disappearing, but as soon as I got back to the South East Gate, they sort of froze and haven’t changed any more.”

  I still felt like I was going to pass out, but I knew I needed to rally. “Laurence, this is horrible! I’ve never seen anything like this. We’ve got to find a cure, surely there is something—there must be.”

  Laurence slowly shook his head. “I’ve heard of this for years, but never seen it. I think the best thing for you now is rest. Rest and drink water for your thirst. Let me work on this.”

  Joe used his left hand to pull the puffy gloves back on. “Right. Counting on you, friend.”

  “Excuse me, a rather tall monk approaches.” Cloud said.

  Laurence and I looked at each other? A monk? Could it be?

  The door disappeared. A giant of a man, red-headed, with a glowing, bushy beard, stooped to enter. He pushed back his cowl. He had a huge grin on his face and his arms opened wide for a hug.

  Columba!

  I sank into his huge, warm hug. Then he looked over my shoulder at Joe. It took him all of about five seconds.

  “And how long have you been ill, my son?”

  Joe squirmed a bit at the direct gaze. “Oh, just a bit weak, I suppose. . .maybe half a day, not really sure.”

  “But any illness is unnatural on this side. You’ve been to Earth.”

  Joe looked at me, then at Laurence. I could tell he was struggling with how much he should share. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look so vulnerable, so scared.

  Laurence gestured to Columba. “You’re lucky, Joe. Columba has more knowledge of this condition than I could ever have. You’d best tell him everything.”

  Joe sagged. The gig was up. “Okay, okay. Sorry, I know I’ve been foolish. I stayed there longer than 24 hours. Big mistake.” He held up his hidden “What can I do to reverse this?” hands.

  Columba moved to the sofa and sat down. Joe had to scrunch up his legs to make room for his massive frame. “Tell me your problems.”

  Joe looked confused. “Problems?”

  “I think he means symptoms.” I said.

  Columba turned to me and nodded. “Yes, symptoms. We’ll deal with the problems later.”

  Joe straightened up a bit. “Well, headaches, dizziness, heart-pounding—anxiety, I guess.”

  Columba continued to stare into his eyes. “Anxiety.”

  Laurence interpreted. “Nervousness. Fear. A skittish disposition.”

  “Ah, yes, well, that would be common.”

  None of us said anything for a long minute or so. Then Columba looked at Joe’s covered hands. “I think you should show me those, my friend.”

  Joe silently removed his ski gloves and held his hands up for inspection.

  “Yes, it is as I thought. Pray, do not touch me or anyone with those. You may cover them again, please.”

  Joe seemed confused as he pulled the puffy gloves back on. “What do you think? What’s happened to me?”

  Columba stood up and paced back and forth a few times. Then he turned around to face us. “Is Hannah present?”

  “No, she’s spending the day at a friend’s house.” I said. “Then her friend will return to stay with us for two weeks. I expect them home before dark.”

  “Then we must not waste time.”

  “But is it Earth sickness?” I said.

  “Yes, of course, the fever, Earth fever.”

  “I thought so.” said Laurence. “But I was uncertain about the cure.”

  “To understand the cure, we must understand the disease.” Columba said as he sat down beside me. “You have something similar to this on Earth, I believe. You call it mountain fever.”

  “Altitude sickness? “ I said. “Yeah, Joe and I both have had this. But we drank lots of water, took a medicine our doctor prescribed, and it all went away.”

  “But what is the very best cure for the mountain ailment?” Columba said.

  We were stumped. Then, it came to me. “Why, you go down. Down to a lower altitude.”

  “And what is the final result for those who continue in this disease—if their symptoms persist and they don’t go down to a lower height?”

  Nobody wanted to answer. Then Laurence took the plunge. “A person would die, of course, if the disease played out in the worst way.”

  “Yes, but Joe can’t die.” said Columba.

  We all stared at Joe. And his hands.

  “He could . . . disappear?” I said.

  “He can become a specter, a ghost, if you will.” Columba said. “An angel feared on Earth and pitied in Heaven.”

  There was absolute silence. There was nothing to say—none of us had ever imagined such a thing was possible. Finally Joe said in a loud, desperate voice, “You mean, you mean, I’m going to disappear? Become a real ghost? Are you serious?”

  “No, my friend, you are not going to transform into a ghost because you came up, the opposite of what you must do with severe mountain fever. “

  “Thank God,” Joe said.

  Columba crossed himself.

  “Yes, of course, we must thank Him.” I said. “We are more than lucky that Columba came to us when he did. What do we have to do?”

  “We need oil from Joe’s Awakening day, Mary Magdelene’s oil that our Lord anointed him with.”

  “I’ll get it.” Laurence said. ”It’s probably in the meditation room.”

  Joe and I looked at each other. His chest sagged with disappointment. “No, no, not there.”

  “Then, where is it?” said Laurence.

  “It’s, it’s—there were just a few drops left, and when Claire and I moved, well, well, I, I—“

  “He spilled it while flying over here.” I said.

  Laurence and Columba said nothing for what seemed like a long time. Laurence kept staring at Joe’s hands. Then Columba roused himself. “No matter. We must use oil from a blood relative. A parent or child, for example. Surely you have these angels here?”

  Joe pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to tell Mom and Dad.”

  “Oh, Joe, that’s ridiculous,” I said. “They would want to help. I’ll call them and I’m sure they’ll bring—.”

  “—No! We’re not going to involve them. Don’t want them to see me like this.”

  “Then, who?” I said. “What about Regina?” Jo
e’s sister adored him. I knew she would help.

  “Yes!” Joe said. “No, wait, she’s gone off today to visit the European sector. She and her friends have been planning this for weeks. I saw her yesterday.”

  “It’ll have to be Jamie, then.” I said.

  “Is this a daughter?” Columba said.

  “No, our son.” Joe said.

  “I apologize. I’m still baffled by 20th century names, but—ah, I see, short for James. Your version of Jacobus.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be going to Jamie’s now.” Laurence said.

  “Shouldn’t I call him first?” I said.

  Laurence was already at the door. “No, if he’s not there, his cloud will know how to reach him. The sooner I get him back with his oil, the better.”

  He stepped outside, tapped his heart, and shot up. I thought it was probably the fastest takeoff I’d ever seen.

  “Claire, is this your feebleminded son—pardon me, I mean your son who was disabled on Earth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then the oil will be very powerful, indeed.”

  It seemed Laurence had been gone for hours, though it had only been a few minutes. I was . . . unsettled, and not only because I was worried about Joe. These types of things weren’t supposed to happen. I mean, yes, we sometimes had to suffer hardship in order to grow deeper in compassion and understanding. But now I was facing the possibility of losing someone I loved and thought I’d be with forever. Heaven had become a confusing place.

  Columba interrupted my musing. “Joe is naturally quite cold, may I build a fire, Claire?”

  Joe squirmed on the couch and pulled the afghan a bit higher.

  “Why, Cloud will be happy to do it.”

  There was an immediate, roaring fire in the fireplace. I could tell Columba was startled. I’d forgotten the monastery didn’t really use its cloud’s capacities. For them, work was prayer, as it always had been.

  “Thank you, Cloud.” I said.

  “Will there be anything else, Madam? A warm beverage for Mr. Joe and St. Columba?”

  “Saint?” said Joe.

  Columba waved a hand. “Not something I brandish about.”

  “Hannah did a paper on her 12th Year Mission, and since it involved you, Aidan, Cuthbert and Brigid, she did quite a bit of research.” I said. “That’s when I was reminded you and the others had been canonized.”

  Joe managed a slight smile and Columba blushed. “Yes, we tell our brother, Juniper, that he’s much more well known, a character in popular literature. What is your name for this? Ah, a cartoon . . . ribbon, a comic—”

  Joe and I looked at each other. We spoke at the same time.

  “—strip, Brother Juniper!”

  Columba nodded.

  Hot chocolates with whipped cream toppings plopped down beside each of us. Cloud must have sensed that, given the gravity of the situation, he needed to take some basics into his own hands.

  “Goodness, your cloud is quite good.”

  “Yes, he’s amazing. Thank you, Cloud.” I said.

  “It is my honor, Madam.”

  We all stared at each other and somehow managed to smile again. Columba stood up and stretched. “I’ve had a long journey. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to lie down for a few moments until Laurence returns with your son.”

  “Why, of course, let me show you the nearest bedroom.” I led him into Laurence’s room. Joe was staring into the fire when I returned. I sat beside him on the nearest ottoman. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. Columba knows what to do.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Can I get you anything? Water? Maybe some crackers for your tummy?”

  “No, no thanks.” He turned to me, and his covered hands clumsily attempted to grip mine. “Claire, I’ve been such a fool.”

  “What? No, wait, you just stayed too long, it’s going to be okay.”

  He held his hands up. “I’m not talking about this.”

  “What, then?”

  “Us, about us.”

  I sighed. “Oh, Joe, I know. We don’t really talk anymore. Last year you got here and everything was wonderful. We all moved in together and you seemed happy. But lately, I don’t know. . .what’s bothering you?”

  “I feel, I feel a bit, well. . .confused. Sometimes I think I don’t know how to act here.”

  “To act?”

  “Well, it’s Heaven, isn’t it? I thought it would be eternal bliss, basking in the presence of God. And instead, I sometimes feel like it’s work. And then I feel like I’m doing it wrong. Am I making any sense?”

  “I think so. Would you be happier if we lived by ourselves? Maybe we should leave Laurence, at least for a while. . . and now we have two cupids—that’s a lot, I know. Laurence and I have talked about this.”

  “No, no, no, I like Laurence and I’m happy here. That’s not it. All I’m asking is for you to be patient with me. I guess I’m still getting used to being here.”

  I reached out and hugged him. “But I’m so happy you are. And so relieved you don’t want to move.”

  He smiled just a little. At least he could still smile. “Moving in Heaven is just as much of a hassle as moving on Earth, even with Cloud’s help. Let’s stay put. Just know that I love you, even if I don’t always show it.”

  I gently put my hands on top of his. “I love you, dear one. We just need to—“

  “Are they back?” Columba stood in the doorway.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Shall I tell you a story, Joe?” Columba said. “Just to pass the time until Laurence and your son return?”

  “Yes, of course.” Joe seemed heartened by Columba’s calm demeanor. Now it was my time to be confused, as I considered what Joe had said. Perhaps Columba could calm both of us.

  Columba sank to the floor next to the couch, to bring himself to Joe’s eye level. “As you might imagine, we live a simple life at the monastery—there are five of us in residence there. Our mission is also simple: To assist any angels who may have wandered too close to the South West Gate and likewise, to work with any who may have escaped from the clutches of that evil place.”

  I sipped my hot chocolate and nodded for Columba to go on.

  “We have few visitors, as the way is long to our door. Persistence and inner strength are required to reach it. Therefore, we’ve had only two cupids visit in our hundreds of years there.”

  “Hannah was one of those.” Joe said.

  “She was the second. The first came during the late 19th Century. He was on his 12th Year Mission and was required to fly back and forth between us and the South East entrance. He did, and returned to his home. But Hannah. . .”

  “Yes, Columba?” I couldn’t work out where he was going.

  He cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. “Gabriel had visited us, not long before she arrived. Not unusual, but he always had a reason. He explained the stolen wing and that we were called on to assist.

  “Claire, we were dumbfounded when we heard this. It was as if we knew in advance that she would be challenged much more than any cupid had ever been— much more. We were worried, and yet, we wanted to help.”

  I stood up. So did Columba. We hugged. My eyes started watering. Suddenly, all the events of the previous year came rushing back to me—the search for the wing, the hideous experience in the South West Gate, Joe’s Awakening. Then I saw Joe was crying, too.

  I moved to the couch, and now it was Joe’s time for another hug. He held me for a long time. I pulled back once, but he wouldn’t let me leave his side. I decided to squeeze in on the sofa with him.

  Columba held his cup up in a toast. “But the miraculous thing is that the wee one and Claire went in, came out, and brought home the wing, Deo gratias.”

  We toasted with him, althou
gh Joe could barely hold the cup. I gently took it from him.

  “We couldn’t have done any of that without your help.” I said. “We’re indebted to you.”

  “Balderdash. It took the entire community, yourself included, working as one. Just like we teach in our monasteries.”

  I glanced up at the clock. It had been about half an hour since Laurence left.

  “Madam, someone is approaching.” said Cloud, as if on schedule.

  Finally—Laurence and Jamie!

  “The cupids, Tiffany and Hannah, are just outside—“

  Boom! The door slammed open. Hannah and Tiffany walked in and started toward Hannah’s room at the back. Then Hannah froze.

  “Columba!”

  Columba picked her up, swung her around and knelt down to look into her eyes. “And how is my Hannah?”

  “Awesome, now that you’re here! Are you spending the night?”

  Columba, Joe and I looked at each other.

  “Why, we haven’t discussed that.” I said. “We’ve been so busy catching up. But, of course, you must stay with us.”

  “I’ll do as you wish, Claire. For now, I think I’ll let Hannah and her friend—“

  “Columba, this is Tiffany. Tiffany, Columba.” Hannah said.

  Tiffany seemed shocked by the gigantic monk’s long brown robe, hood, and rope sandals. “How do you do?” she said with a little curtsey.

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Columba, I’ll show you my room and the rest of the cloud.”

  She pulled him by the arm, and the three of them quickly disappeared. Rose came in and lay down beside Joe, lifting her head a bit as if to check him out.

  As soon as he knew it was just Rose and me in the room, Joe turned to me. “I’m worried. Where are they?”

  “Try not to fret. You know Laurence will find him. He just may have to look a bit.”

  Joe turned away and stared into the fire. “I’m not so much worried about his finding him. But, we’re just getting to know Jamie again. What if he hesitates, or doesn’t want to come? I really feel the need to see him, Claire. I guess this whole experience has shaken me up—if I were a sailing man, I’d say I feel unmoored.”

  We waited. Columba rejoined us after another 15 or so minutes.