The Bessie Series - Books 1-3

2. Heaven

Bessie and Ash stand outside a modern glass and steel structure known as the Seventh Heaven Mall, which is sprawled in a field surrounded by a parking lot. Vehicles come and go in all shapes and sizes, similar to the Earth dimension, but with one major difference: no engines, and no fuel. There is no need for such things, as the vehicles run on universal energy.

The girls head towards the far end of the mall, where the Past Lives Movie Theater is located. Looking up at the marquee, they see what is currently playing: “Arthur Bester, Accountant With a Secret File”. The next one: “Arazadin Vellani: Terrorist or Philosopher?” And finally: “Maria Helena: From Castle to Crackhead”.

“Did you see that one about Princess Maria Helena?” Bessie comments, “She had seventeen lovers, some of them priests, even, before she was run over by a donkey cart.”

“I know, that was wild. Loved that one,” Ash agrees.

They turn to walk back to the central mall entrance. Inside, hallways travel in each direction, filled with shops boasting Heaven-ware fashions and accessories, the latest footgear, bags, reincarnation bookstores, cosmetics, and small eateries. In other words, it is a mall that’s an awful lot like malls on Earth.

Ash starts walking left. “Shall we, my dear?” she asks in an exaggerated British accent. Snickering, they soon enter the tiny, crowded shop called Bodysuits Boutique.

A nervous-Nellie angel peers out at them over her glasses from behind the counter. She stands all of four-foot-seven. On her flowered dress, the word “Soulslady” is elaborately lettered on a ceramic rectangle. At the sight of the girls, she pushes her glasses up her nose and squares her scrawny shoulders.

All around them hang neat rows of bodysuits: the outer identities of souls in Heaven who have decided to reincarnate and no longer need them; they will be getting new ones upon their return to the Earth dimension. The bodysuits seem to float on hangers like mystical Halloween costumes. There must be thousands of them, all organized beneath various signs like: “Slightly Used”; “Go Retro”; “What’s Your Favorite Century?” And, “Just in: The New Summer Collection”.

An elderly gent lifts down the bodysuit of the legendary balladeer of the sixties, Johnny Horton. Pretending to play a drum, he marches like a soldier singing Horton’s classic hit, “Sink the Bismarck”. At the top of his lungs, he bellows, “We"ll find the German battleship that"s makin" such a fuss; we gotta sink the Bismarck "cause the world depends on us.” Still strumming his drum, he marches into the change room as Bessie and Ash smile.

We"ll find the German battleship that"s makin" such a fuss; we gotta sink the Bismarck "cause the world depends on us“Anything in particular today, ladies?” the Soulslady asks, spitting out every syllable.

Ash smiles warmly and insincerely. “Just browsing.”

The Soulslady sniffs as she turns to walk away. “As per the usual.”

Ash mimics the woman under her breath, “As per the usual.”

The store clerk stops for a moment before being distracted by a young nerdy type making a mess out of the Go Retro selections.

Ash and Bessie eavesdrop as the nerd asks politely, “Got Jim Morrison?”

The Soulslady points him to a crowded rack. “Used & Abused. But it’s probably out. Everybody wants to wear Jim Morrison, for some weird reason.”

The girls smile at Nerd Boy as they finger walk through the hangers in the Slightly Used section. Bessie pulls out the John F. Kennedy shell to hold it up to her. “I remember I was watching cartoons on TV when my mom came in and switched the channel. Her face was chalk white and she was trembling.”

Soon Ash is standing beside her, holding up the bodysuit of John’s brother, Robert. They check themselves in the full-length mirror. “Both assassinated in their prime,” Ash adds.

“A true American tragedy,” Bessie murmurs.

Sensing the Soulslady’s glare, the girls smile brightly, hanging up the shells in the wrong places. The angel stomps over in her quick little annoying steps, just as Ash and Bessie rush over to the “Used & Abused” section and yank out the bodysuits of Janis Joplin and Dinah Washington. Smirking, they rush into the change room before the clerk can catch them.

Lifting the bodysuits from their hangers, they tug them over their heads, smoothing them down around themselves, admiring each other for a moment. The images of Ash and Bessie are nowhere to be seen; only those of Janis and Dinah. It’s a game they never tire of in the endless time of Heaven. “Janis” (Ash) pulls back the changing room curtain, dancing out into the tiny shop, pulling “Dinah” (Bessie) by her hand. The Queen of the Blues Dinah belts out, “You’re Nobody ‘til Somebody Loves You” while Janis intertwines with a rousing version of “Me and Bobby McGee”.

Other customers join in, clapping their hands and singing along.

“O-kay, ladies, that’s it. Quite enough fun for one day,” the Soulslady commands. Furiously, she drags them by their arms towards the change room. “Good-bye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, bye-bye.”

* * *

Back outside in the parking lot, Ash and Bessie notice a guy on a spindly ladder who is painstakingly changing the names of the movies on the Past Lives marquee, letter by letter. Down come the names of Maria Helena, Arthur, and Arazadin. Up go this week’s first offering: “Edna Snerd: The Tale of a Small Town Nurse with a Twist”. Then, “Chelsea Bunn: A Baker with a Sense of Humor”.

“Wish they’d have a movie star for a change,” Ash complains. As more letters go up, her face breaks into a smile. The man climbs down his ladder while the girls gaze up in awe to see: “Marilyn Monroe: From Hollywood to Heavenwood”.

.“Marilyn was so beautiful and talented. Tragically she died way too soon,” Ash sighs deeply. “Just like us.”

“And just like Marilyn, someday we’ll be bodysuits hanging up, after we reincarnate, that is,” Bessie muses. “What category will we be in, I wonder?”

Ash stops to brush a speck of dust from the toe of her purple stiletto. Her voice is tinged with sadness. “Slightly Used. What else?”

“Hey, wait up!” Bessie breaks into a run towards a rather tall, older woman who is busy jabbing at the kickstand of a rickety bicycle with her toe. As Bessie gets closer, she sees the bike’s basket is overflowing with cleaning supplies: polishes and soaps, a replacement mop head, dust rags, and a new whisk. “Grandma, wait up!”

The older woman turns, flicking a gray ponytail over her shoulder before kicking the stand back down and holding out strong arms.

As Ash wobbles across the parking lot, Bessie is swallowed into her grandmother’s warm, hearty hug before the older woman pulls back to take a good look at her. As always, her grandma is sporting a shapeless floral dress. On the left side of her chest, a gaudy green 4-leaf clover brooch perches haphazardly. Her skin is bronzed and freckled from so much time outdoors. When she speaks, her voice is thick with Irish lilting. “Well, how in the blazes are you two rascals? Heard you played hooky and went to the airport again.” She winks at Bessie, her rough hands on the younger woman’s shoulders. “Good for you, sugar plum. Good for you.”

“How’s Grandpa?” Bessie manages to ask before Ash dives in for her hug.

“Well, hello, Ashley dear,” the older woman says kindly. “Still working on that still in the orchard, bless his old heart. Making hooch out of nectarines this time. Pretty good batch, I must say.”

“Need to talk to you about something, Gran.” Bessie pokes around in the basket. “Hey, how come you bought all this cleaning stuff, anyways? Expecting company?”

Grandma Millie shoos Bessie’s hands away. “None of your beeswax, missy. Not yet anyway. Well …” Her eyes fill with kindness. She asks, “So, what’s on your mind? Trouble in paradise?”

Ash pipes up, “We saw Jason yesterday.”

“Just arrived on the nine o’clock flight,” Bessie fills in, her fingers rubbing her scar.

“You sure it was him?” her grandmother asks, touching Bessie’s chin with her fingertips to tilt her face towards her. “Positive? Lots of skinny lads crashing up their cars on the Earth roads these days. God only knows.”

“Oh, it was him alright, Millie. I’d swear it was him,” Ash confirms, putting her hands on her hips in a cover girl pose.

Millie glances back and forth between them before she speaks. “Well, in that case, you both better come and visit soon. We’ll have a nice long chat and decide what to do. Bessie?” Old blue eyes pour love into young blue ones. “You’ll come soon?”

“Sure, Gran.” Bessie smiles. “It’s not as if we’re going to school or anything.”

“That’s my girl.” Millie kisses the top of her granddaughter’s head. Turning away, she grabs hold of her handlebars, kicking up the stand before climbing onto her bike. “Can’t leave the old fart alone too long. You know how he is.” She mimes pouring and tossing back a generous slug of whiskey.

Riding off down the road, Millie yells back over her shoulder. “Soon, then, come and visit very soon. Now you two keep in trouble, you hear?” Her giggle fades as she gets further and further from sight.

“Wanna go watch the cows recycle?” Ash suggests, sticking a pink jawbreaker into her mouth and chewing vigorously for a moment. Blowing out a huge bubble, she sucks the air back in, expertly popping it with a loud smack.

“No can do,” Bessie replies. Her fingers are back on her scar again.