Heaven's Missing Person

by Nell Weaver Lyford

  The door burst open. At first, I thought it was the wind, but then I saw Hannah. “Have you seen Tif?”

  I felt a sudden stab. “Tiffany? She’s with you.”

  “No, she’s gone!”

  Whatever it was, it had begun.

  Suddenly, we were pulling on our coats, boots, hats and gloves in record speed and talking even faster.

  “Where did you last see her?” Columba said.

  “Behind the woodshed. It was her time to hide, and then we were coming in.”

  “How long did you count?” I was trying to get a sense of how far she might have gone.

  We were outside by then. The wind was picking up and getting brutal.

  “To thirty. I wanted to go to ten, but Tif talked me into thirty so she could find a really good spot.”

  Joe, Laurence and I exchanged a quick look.

  “Tell us where to go.” Laurence said.

  “I’ll take the west side.” Columba said. “Come with me. The rest of you pair up with Aidan, Juniper, Cuthbert, and Brigid. Cuthbert, you know the north. Others, please fill in.”

  “I only know the east side,” Brigid said. ”So Claire, come with me.”

  Everyone tramped off. Brigid and I turned to the east, the most developed side of the cloud.

  “We’ll start at the southern tip, just before the building.”

  Slowly, Brigid and I walked up the east side of the monastery, past the dining room, main entrance, chapel, and lower bedrooms. We ran our gloved fingers along the stone walls, the little insets and carved crosses. The snow was banked fairly high against the building, and so far, it didn’t look like anyone had been walking on it. But given the wind, tracks could drift over fairly quickly. And we didn’t know if Tiffany had used her wings.

  Our calls for Tiffany matched those we heard from other parts of the cloud. Apparently, no answer anywhere. My stomach was in my throat. I felt so responsible for her and now this!

  After about thirty minutes of walking, looking, shouting, and hoping, we heard Columba’s voice. “Enough! Inside!”

  We barely remembered to stomp the snow off our boots. Joe looked miserable, Laurence much worse. Hannah was trying not to cry, but I could see tears forming in her eyes. Our hosts were clearly just as anxious.

  “I know now where we must go,” Columba said. “Claire, come with me.”

  “We’ll go, too.” Joe said.

  “Yes, please let us join you to wherever.” Laurence said.

  Columba held up his hand to silence them.

  “I can only take one, and I feel Claire is the obvious choice. I’m afraid I don’t have time to explain my reasoning.”

  Brigid sighed and pulled off her wool cap. “No need. You’re going there?”

  Columba looked at her and the monks. It was as if they all knew, or at least dreaded, where Tiffany was.

  “Where are we going, Columba?” I said, though I already thought I knew the answer.

  “Why, the South West Gate, the Wicked Way.”

  Joe and Laurence let out a moan in unison.

  “That can’t be right,” said Joe.

  “Let’s take a moment to consider this.” Laurence said.

  “No, we’re losing time,” Columba said. “Claire, are you ready?”

  I pulled my gloves and hat back on. Hannah hugged me and held on tight.

  “Don’t go, Claire, don’t go.” she said. “I . . . remember.”

  I gently pulled her rigid arms off my shoulders. “Hannah, if Tiffany is there, this may be our only chance. I really have to.”

  “But you don’t have the magic boots and gloves!”

  She was referring to the special prayer-filled clothing we had been given a year ago when we left the monastery for the South West Gate to look for her wing.

  Columba stooped down to get on her level. “We won’t be needing special equipment because we aren’t going on the actual evil path.”

  Then he spoke to the little circle around him.

  “I know you’re concerned, but I have no intention of going past the gate. Trust me, I’ve done this before.”

  “Very wise, very good.” Aidan said to the murmurs of agreement by his fellow monks and nun.

  “I’ll hold you to that, then.” Laurence said and hugged him, and then, me.

  Like Hannah, Joe’s eyes were tearing up. I knew they wouldn’t cry, because crying was not customary here. But still, his emotions were being pushed.

  Joe reached out his arms and I walked into them. He held me for a few moments and then let me go.

  “Wait.” he said. “What about wing wax?”

  “Ideally, we would do that, but there’s no time.” Columba strode toward the door. “Shall we?”

  “Yes.” I said, trying to speak clearly as if I were calm.

  I fell in behind him, and we were outside before anyone could say anything else in protest.

  “Godspeed!” Cuthbert said as Columba closed the door.

  We flew steadily for about thirty minutes. The sky was completely dark, with no precipitation—just a frigid black sky. Clearly, Columba knew a shortcut because suddenly, the ominous black gate and its huge gray stones faced us. A swarm of bats flew out. We hovered in front of it. I could already feel its strange draw, but this time I knew what it was and was able to resist it.

  “Whatever you do, don’t take more than two steps in.” Columba said. “She’ll greet us, but we don’t want to go down to her territory.”

  “Okay, but aren’t we in her place once we open the gate?”

  Columba stared at me much as he might look at a small child. “Her powers increase with the depth.”

  I nodded. I thought I would never see her again, and yet, here I was.

  “I’m going to knock to alert her. Follow me.”

  We stepped onto the icy spot in front of the menacing grillwork. There was a huge knocker shaped like a serpent. I shivered. Columba grabbed it forcefully with both hands and slammed it down three times. He shot his right arm out and pushed me back as the gate swung open. Frigid vapors hit our faces. A heavy smell of decay enveloped us. I felt a wave of nausea roll through me.

  “My dears,” a condescending female voice called up to us. “By all means, do come in. We’ve missed you, Claire.”

  Columba held my hand and we stepped inside the entrance. One step, then two. The pull to go deeper was very strong, but I focused on Columba and held my position. We stood at the top of a vast cavern, divided into perhaps three or four chambers. But it was dimly lit, and we squinted to look down in the direction of the voice.

  Then boom, boom, bang! Each chamber was suddenly illuminated in wild electric colors of blinking pink, green, and blue. Just as our eyes were acclimating, the colors switched to throbbing gray, black and brown. Icy stalactites and stalagmites grew in vast numbers. Bats clung to the ceiling and pulsated with the lights. The strong stench and frigid air seemed to press on our faces like a vise.

  A woman dressed in a long, much too tight red gown, her white face framed by a wild mass of black hair, stood below us. It was definitely the same woman I had met last year.

  “There, that’s much better.” Angelica peered up and her head rotated 180 degrees, like an owl’s. “So, Claire. What could possibly bring you back? And I believe that’s the much esteemed and very important Saint Columba with you. My, aren’t we honored.”

  She slowly bent her grotesque, heavily veined alabaster head and neck down in mock reverence. Then she snapped it up so forcefully, I thought it might break. She pursed her lips and began to drum her fingers on the nearest ice wall.

  “Why are you here, chums? Much as I’d like to believe it, I know you’re not just checking up on me for old times’ sake.”

  “We’ve come for the little one.” Columba said. “You’ve no right to
her, so release her immediately.”

  Angelica looked up, placed her hands on her hips and slowly smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I started to move toward her, but Columba shot his arm across my waist to stop me.

  “Where is she?” I said in a loud voice that echoed around the cavern.

  Angelica pulled out an emery board. She held up her hand as if to study her nails and then began filing, one finger at a time. Then she said . . . something. It didn’t quite sound like gibberish, but wasn’t any language I recognized.

  “Speak in English, please, Angelica.” Columba said.

  She said something else in the same language, never taking her eyes off her nails.

  “For Claire’s sake.”

  “But I’m giving you clues, darlings. It’s all so obvious, and this is all so boring.”

  Columba paused. “If you’re lying, I’ll be back. And you know what will come of that.”

  “Ooooooooh, I’m so afraid.” With that she waved us away with the nail file, turned, and began stomping up another ramp.

  “Come, we must leave.” Columba said and pulled me to the open gate. “Quickly!”

  We sped through the gate and heard it clang heavily behind us. After we had flown fast for ten minutes, Columba motioned to me to slow down.

  It was the first chance I got to talk to him. “What was all that about?”

  “I know where she is. We’re not going back to the monastery.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To a cloud very near.”

  “And you trust Angelica?”

  “No. But even the most evil beings can sometimes be used for good. That’s how good and evil work.”

  “So what were the clues? And what was that language she was using?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. She was speaking Mandarin.”

  Columba’s wings beat in quick rhythm as we continued to fly east. Suddenly, he stopped and pointed down. “There, see that cloud?”

  At first all I could see was a huge Cumulonimbus cloud forming a semi-circle, but then, I peered through it and saw a blue mist with a tall cross rising out of it.

  “What’s that?” I said.

  We hovered above it, and a small stone structure came into view. The cross jutted out of the ground from the middle of the building. There was no roof.

  “This is our original monastery site. It was started and then forsaken—we felt we had to be closer to the South West Gate. We thought perhaps another group of monks or nuns would eventually travel here and build it to completion, but alas, that hasn’t happened.”

  “You think Tiffany is down there?”

  “I have every expectation that she is.”

  “Because Angelica spoke Mandarin?” “It will make sense in a moment. Let’s go.” He turned and headed to the building. I quickly followed.

  We landed on a crust of snow. The site looked deserted, something I had never yet seen in Heaven. An open spot where a front door should have been gaped before us. Long icicles dripped from open windows. There was nothing here but cold and darkness.

  “But, no one is here.” I said.

  “We don’t know that yet, follow me.”

  He stepped over the glazed-over stone threshold and held out his hand to help me. We were in a ruin, as far as I was concerned. This seemed hopeless.

  “There’s nothing.” I said. “Let’s go back.”

  Columba motioned for me to be quiet. He pulled a small torch out of his pocket and quickly lit it with a flint and steel. “Liu An? It’s Columba.”

  Silence. Columba led me farther into the maze of rooms. Stars twinkled above our heads and a light snow fell on our wool hats and shoulders. His torch gave off a warm, comforting glow that danced off the stone walls.

  “Liu An?”

  We turned and in a corner we could make out a small room covered with a metal roof. Columba lifted the torch ahead of us. We stepped inside and saw a bedroll, a low table, and two floor cushions. More than a hundred books were scattered on the wooden floor. A parchment scroll and a big inkwell lay by the table.

  Columba walked over to the table and picked up a small painting. He stared at it for a few moments, then carefully rolled it up and placed it inside his coat.

  “We should go,” he said. “They may have gone to the monastery.”

  “What is this place? Do they have Tiffany?”

  “Not they. He. This place is the sometime home of Liu An, a Chinese Tao scholar and ruler. I believe he saw Tiffany flying toward the gate and stopped her. From that point, I cannot say what happened.”

  For the first time since we left the monastery, I noticed that his face was sad and his shoulders drooped. I hugged him.

  “We’ll find her.” I said. “I’ll bet he’s taken her back to the monastery.”

  “That is my hope. Let’s go.”

  We flew in silence through the night sky. I touched down first in front of the brightly lit building. It would appear that everyone had stayed up through the night to greet us.

  Their faces dropped when they saw we didn’t have Tiffany. Our own faces had been downcast since the old monastery. After our brief description of Liu An’s hide-away, I could see Joe, Laurence, and Hannah were just as mystified as I had initially been.

  “But where is she?” Hannah said. “You went to the gate and then to this other place—what was that place?”

  “Yes, who is this man and why did you think he would have Tif?” Joe said.

  Columba shook his head. Cuthbert decided to speak for him.

  “On Earth, he was a learned scholar and king, long before our Lord came down to Earth,” he said. “An lives all over Heaven, and this is one of his stopping places. We met him about six months ago. He visited us to explain who he was and why he was taking up residence in the old monastery walls.”

  Laurence had been nodding. I didn’t realize he knew so much about ancient Chinese history, but I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “He’s a good man,” Brigid said, “one of the best I’ve ever met. He means no harm to Tiffany.”

  “But why do you think he has her?” Laurence said.

  Columba’s eyes were droopy. “Could we all sit down? And could Claire and I have something to drink?”

  Everyone moved to the cozy common room. Low candles supplemented the soft oil lamps. I sank down by Joe on one of the sofas. He squeezed my hand.

  Aidan brought out a huge platter of ale and lemonade. We all grabbed a glass. I drank my ale quickly—it felt good going down.

  “Perhaps some biscuits as well?” Columba said.

  Brigid soon arrived with a plate full of chocolate and lemon cookies. Hannah grabbed one as she went by.

  “Now that we’re situated,” Columba said, “I need Juniper, is he here?”

  ”Aye, in the chapel working through the notes of a Sanctus that was giving him problems.” Cuthbert said. “I’ll go get him.”

  Soon Juniper stood in front of us. Columba pulled the little painting out of his pocket and handed it to Juniper. “What do you think?”

  And then, to my great surprise, Juniper said something in what sounded like Mandarin.

  And to my greater surprise, so did Laurence.

  “We didn’t realize you spoke Mandarin.” Columba said.

  “Yeah, that’s very impressive, Laurence,” I said.

  He waved it away. “I had to learn a lot of languages when I was working on the border. Sometimes when I hear one of the more popular ones, it begins to come back.”

  “Interesting.” said Aidan.

  “Yes, well, unless the rest of you could follow it, I stand by my comment that we should have this discussion in English.”

  “Of course, Juniper and I weren’t thinking.” said Columba. “
What do you think, brother?”

  Juniper studied the painting more closely. “The colors are the key. A white tiger and a green dragon. He’s signaling yin and yang. The dragon represents the spirit; the tiger, the physical world.”

  “But where have they gone?” Columba said.

  “What day is tomorrow?” Juniper said.

  “Why, June 21st,” Joe said. “The longest day of the year for the Northern Hemisphere.”

  Juniper looked at Columba. “Exactly. The Summer Solstice.”

  “The peak of Yang,” Columba said. “This is a magical time to seek protection from evil and disease.”

  “Liu An believes Yang is found most in the head and heart.” Juniper said. “I think Tiffany must have been off-balance and unhappy in some way when he rescued her. He found her troubled and is taking advantage of the solstice to help heal her.”

  I leaned forward. “Do you think perhaps Tif did make it to the South West Gate?”

  Columba shook his head. “I don’t think so. But she may have gotten dangerously close to the evil that is there.”

  We all nodded.

  “There’s one place Liu An loves more than any other, and it is the perfect place from which to view the longest day.” Juniper said.

  Laurence held Hannah’s hand. “Where on earth is it?”

  “It is on Earth, my brothers and sisters,” Juniper said. “The Shibaozhai Temple, the Precious Stone Fortress. A temple built against rock that is 164 feet tall.”

  “But exactly where?” said Joe.

  “On the Yangtze River,” said Columba. “We must go there immediately.”

  All of us began to talk at once.

  “Quiet, please.” said Cuthbert. “Columba, could you take charge of this mission? You and Juniper know more about Liu An than any of us.”

  We turned toward Columba. He slowly stood and his immense size seemed to gather strength from Cuthbert’s words.

  “First, I need some of our guests to go home.” he said. “Just as there is a good chance he has taken her to Earth, so is it equally possible that they are returning to Zion. Someone should be there to meet them.”