9. Heaven
941 Words
Hours later that same day, in the bedroom in Girls’ Dorm she shares with Ash, Bessie sits up in her twin bed, intertwining her fingers this way and that. Staring up at the wall clock, she sees it is 3:30 a.m. She glances over at her best friend, who is sound asleep with an open copy of Angel magazine on her lap.
Angel Bessie tiptoes over, whispering, “Wake up, Ash. Ash.” She shakes her shoulder. “Ash.”
Ash bolts upright, scattering her magazine. “Awake. I’m awake.”
“You still game?” Bessie grins.
“Like I’m gonna let you have all the fun,” Ash retorts.
Shoes in hand, they scamper out their bedroom door, past the dozing angel at the front desk.
A while later they’re back in their favorite hiding place: the bushes outside Heaven Interportal Airport. Peering out, they observe the last of the reincarnating souls lining up to remove their gowns before handing over their old bodysuits to the Soulslady. Efficiently, the Soulslady drops the images onto hangers, snapping them into place on her wardrobe rack.
“That one over there. Is he really Ernest Hemingway?” Ash pokes Bessie.
“The author of my favorite novel A Moveable Feast? Where?” Bessie looks around.
A Moveable Feast“Right in front of Miss Snippy Pants,” Ash says. “Too late. You missed it. He’s undressed already. Off to a new life.”
A glowing aura shuffles back into the lineup where envelopes are being handed out. The humming jet-cloud hovers over the rear of the airport. The crystal door slowly swings wide to open the sacred gateway between dimensions. The staircase unfolds to await the boarding passengers.
“Get ready,” Bessie whispers.
The bell tolls: one, two, three. The infant-sized auras swiftly drift through the flowered arch, across the platform, out the Sacred Portal, and up the staircase.
“Wait for it, wait for it,” Bessie cautions. Every muscle in her body tightens like a cat.
“But Bess, how are we gonna get—?” Ash whines.
“Go!” Bessie springs to her feet and takes off in full gallop, Ash close behind. The staircase is folding up into the plane. They tear across the platform; a blur of astonished angel faces spin around to look.
Bessie runs through the Sacred Portal, accompanied by a whooshing sound. She grabs the edge of the bottom rung, swinging herself neatly up moments before the staircase begins to disappear into the plane. “Come on, come on!” she yells behind her.
whooshingAsh whooshes through the portal, reaching up for the edge of the rung. She almost gets it, but stumbles at the last minute. As she jumps again, she loses her new scarlet sandal. Turning away, she leans down to grab it. Too late she realizes her mistake. The staircase folds back into place with a snap, and the door of the plane swings closed with Bessie inside.
whooshesBack on the ground, a frantic Ash glares up at the plane, her shoe in hand, before catching sight of three Air Heaven personnel marching swiftly towards her. Just in time, she makes it back to the shelter of the hedge and flops onto the grass. Tossing her footwear aside, she stares longingly after the plane as it vanishes into the night sky like a mirage.
* * *
By a huge stroke of luck, in the chaos of boarding auras jamming the aisles, Bessie manages to stuff herself into a near-empty cupboard in the midsection of the plane. She squishes herself amongst the dishes, glasses, and napkins. Soon she can hear the muffled voices of two flight attendants outside her hiding place, chatting while they arrange drinks on trays.
“Big crowd today, Gloria,” one of the attendants says. “Must be repopulating after that tsunami. Who’s got the NecNac Snaks?”
“Think I saw Tom carrying them,” another says.
“Tom with the magnificent butt?” The first one giggles.
“That would be the one,” her companion agrees.
Inside the cupboard, Bessie makes herself as comfortable as she can. Her breathing finally returns to normal.
From beyond the door, a voice pipes up, “Where are those extra cups? In here?”
In a panic, Bessie crams herself as far left as she possibly can while the door partially opens. A searching, well-manicured hand reaches around.
The other voice replies, “No, think they’re under the sink.”
The hand leaves, the door shuts, and Bessie lets out a huge breath. For now, she appears to be safe from detection. A murmur of chirpy voices reaches her, offering passengers NecNac Snaks, Hector’s Nectar, and words of encouragement to the reincarnating passengers. Eventually, she drifts off to sleep in her tiny hiding place.
It could have been minutes or hours later when Bessie awakens to more clattering of dishes and utensils. Two voices, one now familiar, and a new one with mellow male tones, begin a conversation outside the cupboard.
“So, you working the return flight?” inquires the male politely.
“The Newly Dead? Yeah. You?” responds the female.
“Yep, that’s mine. When does it leave again?” he asks her.
“4:20 a.m. Tom, you want to grab a nectar tea after we land?” Her voice is coy.
“Sure, why not? We’ve got time,” Tom says.
Inside the cupboard, Bessie grows alarmed, pushing the button on her watch to light up the face, mumbling, “4:20? I’ve only got twenty minutes?”
- Writer
