Beyond Heaven and Earth

by Steven H. Propp

  “Shall we go into the sitting room, then?” They both nodded, and she added softly, “We will be leaving the strict bounds of the physical world and making contact with the etheric world; but we will be as safe and secure there as we are in this room, in this configuration. The One Eternal Light is ever-present with us.” And she led them into the next room, where there were already three chairs arranged in a triangle facing inward, but set far enough apart so that they could not have touched each other even if they had wanted to. Candara waved her palm over some sort of sensor next to her chair, and the lights dimmed, so that the room was very dark. She held up her hand, indicating the need for absolute silence, and placed Sophia’s locket in her lap, then she began some sort of breathing exercise, with her breath slowing down further, and further…

  Jobran was afraid to move, but he guessed that something like ten minutes had passed in complete silence, when he began to hear Candara’s lips moving, intoning something almost soundlessly that sounded like “d” and “y” sounds; he guessed she was talking with her Spirit Guide Djónè.

  Suddenly, Candara spoke in a loud voice, tonelessly, and said, “There is someone here—a female—who wants very badly to speak with someone. She is repeating something over and over; it sounds like ‘jaw…jaw…jaw’…I don’t understand; what is…wait…it’s…wait, it’s either a nickname, or…it’s not their actual name. Do you understand this?” she asked intently.

  Jobran realized, dumbfounded, that Sophia always called him ‘JAW’—his initials—during their early dating years, when he had given her the locket. Is it possible that this is really working, and that Sophia is actually forwarding information to him through Candara?

  “Yes…yes; Sophia always used to call me ‘JAW’ when we first met,” Jobran answered, in a hoarse voice. “Those are my initials.” But how can I be sure that it’s her? he wondered, agonizingly.

  “Yes…yes, the contact is growing stronger now…the locket is helping,” Candara said, in a more expressive voice. “Yes, she is here…Sophia is here, Jobran…and she knows that you are here, also…she wants to know who your companion is…”

  Before Ted could state his name, Candara answered the question herself, and said, “He is a Jewish rabbi, Sophia, and a good friend of Jobran’s, who has been helping him look for you…”

  Immediately, both Ted’s and Jobran’s eyes flashed wide open, and they looked directly at each other. She thought that Ted was Abraham! Jobran could see that Ted was about to (loudly) reveal his true identity, but Jobran quickly shook his head for Ted to remain quiet. That could have been an honest mistake, Jobran thought. When I made the appointment, I told the woman on the phone that I wanted to bring my friend the rabbi along; I didn’t call back after Abraham had to cancel, and explain that I was bringing a substitute. With a gnawing feeling of doubt beginning to erode his confidence in her, he thought, Still, it’s curious that someone who supposedly is ‘clairsentient’ wouldn’t have realized who he is, or at least isn’t—not to mention the fact that he is a complete skeptic about the supernatural, and isn’t sober, as he claimed to be.

  Candara, whose eyes were tightly closed, appeared not to have noticed anything unusual about Jobran’s or Ted’s behavior, and continued speaking, “Jobran…Sophia wants to tell you how much she misses you, and how much she loves you…”

  The very words he had wanted to hear for so long…and yet Jobran found himself plagued with doubts. Weakly, he asked, “Candara, ask her how she is; where is she? Is she well?”

  There was a slight delay, while Candara’s lips moved noiselessly, until she said, “She…she is very happy…but she can’t wait until you are reunited with her…she loves you so much…”

  “Candara, ask her whether she is in Heaven? Or some other place?”

  “She says…doesn’t know the name…but it is very beautiful where she is…it is some place beyond Heaven and Earth….”

  “Candara, ask her…” Jobran began, but Candara interrupted, and said, “Ask her yourself; she can hear you!” Jobran’s heart leapt with hope, in spite of himself, yet his rational mind was still screaming, A way! There must be some way to test this, to make sure…Suddenly, Jobran found himself saying, “Sophia, are your parents there with you?”

  A moment’s pause, and then Candara said, “Oh yes, Jobran; she says that they are here with her; they are all here, just waiting for you….”

  Jobran felt a surge of hatred rush through his blood, as he thought, You god-dam liar—Sophia’s parents aren’t dead! They’re as alive as I am!

  Trying to keep his voice even, Jobran asked casually, “Sophia, do you remember your doctor’s name?”

  Candara frowned, and said, “I can’t hear her response clearly; it sounds like an ‘m,’ or an ‘e’…”

  Hell, that’s nothing more a generalized guess; half the names out there have an ‘m’ or an ‘e’ in them. He asked again, his voice a little louder, “Sophia, do you remember what we planned to name our child, if it was a boy?”

  Candara’s face grew cloudy, and she said, “Sophia is…she is getting upset; she wants to know why you are asking all of these questions. It would break her heart if you doubted her…?”

  Passionately, Jobran said, “Sophia, you are the one person in the entire universe that I believe and trust with absolute confidence—I trust you more than I trust God! But I have to know that this is really you!”

  A tremor in her voice, Candara said, “Sophia is…she is so sad, so saddened by your lack of belief in her; it’s…it’s breaking her heart…she only wants to hear about you, and how you are doing…won’t you just…”

  Jobran interrupted, sharply, and said, “Sophia, if it’s really you, I’m going to ask you something that only the two of us know—and which I’m certain you would not have told anyone else: What very unusual event occurred while we were in bed on our wedding night?”

  Candara’s face became even more troubled, and she said, “She…she is so confused; there were so many things happening on your wedding night…”

  Jobran cut her off brusquely, saying, “Yes, but there is only one event that would have stood out clearly in anyone’s mind about that night—over and above any other events that might have occurred. If you are truly Sophia, and were truly there in that bedroom with me, then you should know what that event was…!”

  Candara was now frowning, and shook her head, and said, “No, the veil is closing now…she seems…she is angry, and hurt…she can’t recall earthly events clearly now…things are so different in the spirit world….” Suddenly, Candara shook her head violently, and seemed disoriented. She blinked and looked around the room for a moment, then announced in a flat voice, “That is all; the connection has been ended.”

  Enraged now, Jobran said, “What ‘connection’? That wasn’t my wife’s words you were speaking; either they were those of an imposter, or—more likely—they were words that you were making up!”

  Candara shook her head sadly, and said, “Jobran, you must understand that when a person passes through the veil between life and death, much of their previous memories are erased; they often can’t recall exactly details of…”

  Jobran cut her off with a gesture, and said coldly, “Sophia would not have forgotten that something from our wedding dinner had given me a sudden case of diarrhea, and I…soiled the bed while we were making love for the first time!” Even in the dim light, Jobran could tell that Candara’s face suddenly turned bright red, and he added with a sarcastic tone, “If she can remember her nickname for me that she only used for a year or two while we were dating, she certainly can remember that!”

  Candara attempted to recover herself, and said to Jobran in an accusatory tone, “I don’t understand why you would put your own wife—whom you claim to love so much—to the test, like this. Think how you must have made her feel, to have made the journey to talk with
you, and to have your first words to her be not words of love, but words of doubt, and accusation?”

  “Oh, by the way,” Jobran snarled, “Sophia’s parents are still alive; so they couldn’t have been there with her.”

  Ted could contain himself no longer, and laughed loudly. Candara turned toward him, her eyes flashing, and hissed, “You certainly have a peculiar attitude; as a rabbi, you should be a man in tune with the spiritual world.”

  Ted’s eyes flashed with pleasure at her repeated misidentification of him, and he said, in a deadpan voice, “So you think that I should be more ‘spiritual,’ huh?”

  Candara paused a moment, before saying in a low voice, “The spirits told me about you; they said that even certain members of your congregation feel that you are a carnal, rather than a spiritual man, and it was wrong for them to have appointed you.”

  His face alive with triumph, Ted pronounced loudly, “Honey, the only one that is wrong around here is you, since you’re obviously suffering from a terminal case of mistaken identity—because I’m not a rabbi!”

  Suddenly, Candara looked confused and frightened, and stammered, “You’re not? Then who…”

  Finishing her statement for her, Ted said, “I’m Ted Thornock; professor of philosophy at the local university—and I’m also president of the local Skeptic’s Club.” He stood up, and gave a mocking bow in her direction. “You’ve obviously confused me with Abraham Kaplan, who is a rabbi—and just happens to look a hell of a lot like me—who usually accompanies my friend on these little fishing expeditions! And on this particular expedition, we just happened to catch ourselves a whopper!”

  Candara looked at Jobran furiously, and practically screamed, “Why would you bring such a person here? I trusted you!”

  “I trusted you!” Jobran shot back.

  Making an effort to regain her composure, Candara said, “I told you that you must not harbor any doubts or unbelief, or else the session would not work.”

  Ted was completely in his element now, and was practically dancing around the room in joy, as he said, “Lady, if the session wouldn’t work, then you should have been unable to contact Sophia; you would have said something like, ‘I don’t understand; some darkness or veil is clouding the view.’ But that’s not the case: you told us that you could see and hear Sophia perfectly well, until we proved that you’re a damn liar!” Candara’s eyes were filled with raw hatred for Ted, and Jobran could see her hands trembling, as she gripped the arms of her chair more tightly.

  Suddenly, the door opened, and the young woman at the reception desk rushed in, her face beset with anxiety.

  Candara just shook her head, looked at Jobran and Ted, and pointed fiercely to the open door. “You will leave—immediately.” She quickly handed Jobran back Sophia’s locket.

  “Now suppose that you give my friend back his money, too, sweetheart?” Ted said, sarcastically.

  Jobran waved it off, and said, “Don’t bother about that; we have taken up her time, in any case.” He grabbed Ted’s arm, and started to drag him towards the door. Ted reached in his pocket, and brought out a small flash camera, and while aiming it at Candara’s enraged face, said, “These should be great for the headline article of our next Skeptic’s Newsletter,” and he took two quick flash photos. The woman receptionist ran at them, but Jobran got Ted through the door, and slammed it shut after them. “Let’s get the hell out of here, before they call the cops and report us for trespassing,” Jobran hissed, dragging Ted out the front door in a hurry, as Ted continued to try and take photos.

  After they had made it halfway down the block without further incident, Ted stopped, pulled the hip flask from his pocket, and drank from it until it was empty, its burning liquid along with his pent-up enthusiasm causing him to yell, “Wooo-hooo!” when he had finished, and he raised both hands in triumph, as if he were an athlete that had just won a difficult race.

  “See?” he said to Jobran, triumphantly. “I told you the whole thing was bullshit!”

  Jobran nodded his agreement, and looked at his watch, and grabbed Ted’s shoulder again, saying, “Come on; we don’t want to miss our bus to meet up with Abraham.”

  * * *

  Jobran, Ted and Abraham met at a 24-hour coffee shop, and were eager to begin discussing the matter. There was a carafe of wine on the table, Abraham and Ted both having glasses in front of them, as Ted tried to persuade Jobran to have a glass himself.

  “Oh, come on, Jobe, this is a celebration! You can have one little glass of wine; it won’t kill you.” A thought occurring to him, he added, “Even Jesus drank wine.”

  Reluctantly, Jobran allowed Ted to pour him a glass, and he sipped it carefully, making a face afterward. “Actually, I’d forgotten how bitter wine tastes.” He replaced the glass on the table, and added, “It’s really not something that a person would ever drink, if it weren’t for the alcohol in it.”

  Draining his own glass in three large gulps, Ted replied, “Ah, but blessed be, there is that wonderful alcohol in it.” He belched, then said, “Besides, it’s not half as bitter as the wine we made ol’ Candara drink tonight!” To Abraham, he said, “It’s too bad that you couldn’t have been there; I would have loved to have you as a witness, and to have seen my own personal prejudices ratified and confirmed so thoroughly.” He poured himself another glass.

  In an objective tone, Abraham replied, “Well, in fairness to her, you weren’t exactly forthright in telling her who you were.”

  Ted pointed his finger at Abraham, and said, “Hey, why should I tell her anything? She’s the one that’s supposed to be the goddam psychic! Besides, if I’d told her who I was, it would have given her a built-in excuse to explain her inability to conjure up the real Sophia. And besides again, she’s the one who said that her connection was successful.” He poured himself another glass of wine, and said, “These supposed psychics are all full of crap; they’re never willing to engage in a real scientifically verifiable test of their supposed ‘powers.’”

  Jobran looked guilty and depressed, and said, “I have to admit that I really should have given her a fairer test—at least the first time. I didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt.” He took a larger sip of his wine, and said, “I did that much for the Calvinists, the Mormons, and the Jehovah’s Witnesses; so I at least should have done the same for her.”

  Ted shook his head, and said, “Excuses, excuses. The whole thing is just crap, like I told you.” He drank almost his entire glass of wine in two huge gulps.

  Abraham was a little tired of Ted’s continuous skeptical refrain, and asked, “But how do you know the whole thing is ‘crap’? Have you really investigated the field? Aren’t you supposed to take a ‘scientific,’ empirical, not to mention philosophical attitude towards such things?”

  Ted’s face was starting to look a little flushed—both from his excitement level, and from the alcohol—and he replied, “Well, let me ask you something, Mr. Jewish Rabbi: If these supposed psychics can see events before they occur, why don’t they tell us about significant world events in advance? Why didn’t they predict the September 11th terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, and the subsequent wars in the Middle East? Or if they can really conjure up departed spirits, why do they only bring up people of ordinary intelligence? Why don’t they bring back some brilliant scientists such as Newton, or Einstein, and tell us about the brilliant new insights into reality that they now have, as eternal spirits? Surely they would have something interesting to say, given their new knowledge about the ultimate nature of reality.”

  Abraham shook his head, and said, “You could hardly expect an ordinary medium to be able to communicate deep scientific insights; they’re not trained in the sciences.”

  Ted replied sharply, “But I’m not asking the medium to come up with the insights—I’m only asking them to communicate the insights that are being gi
ven to them by others, who are themselves the brilliant scientists! Granted, scientists have a specialized vocabulary, but can’t the mediums ask the supposedly departed scientist to tell them what to say?” He looked as if he were lecturing in his classroom, and continued, “I’m not asking the medium to come up with a scientific explanation on his or her own; I’m just telling them to ask Dr. Einstein for the explanation, and then all the medium needs to do is simply report back to us what Dr. Einstein says. And hell—Einstein knew how to explain things in plain language; he wrote books on Relativity for lay people, after all.” He gestured widely with his hands, and said, “It’s sort of like how you don’t need to understand something in order to be able to translate it into another language at the United Nations, or at a scientific conference. Besides, how hard can it be to say, ‘E=MC2 ‘?”

  Abraham nodded, then said, “That’s a good point.” After taking a reflective sip of his wine, he added, “Of course, Judaism and Christianity both condemn ‘Spiritism’ as heretical and/or sinful, so it’s nothing that I feel compelled to defend.”

  “The whole thing is indefensible crap,” Ted said, wholly convinced, and loving the sound of his own convinced voice. “I’ve read some of the sayings of these supposed spirits, and I’d like to know why they only talk about trivial things? Or things that can’t be verified? And why do the psychics themselves seemingly fail to predict in advance the events of their own lives? As Shakespeare said, ‘Physician, heal thyself!’” He drank the rest of his glass of wine, then signaled the waitress for another bottle. “They’ve got this whole shtick down: By attributing everything they’re told to a ‘Spirit guide,’ they automatically absolve themselves if something goes wrong; ‘I’m just telling you what my guide told me,’ they whine. And even what they do supposedly come up with, is nothing more than chance and guesswork. They say things like, ‘It could be an “A,” or maybe it’s an “E,”‘ then they wait for you to agree with some aspect of what they said. Whenever they’re proven wrong, they can always claim that ‘The problem was in my interpretation, not in the spirit communication itself’; so no matter what happens, they’re got a built-in excuse.”