Leap - chapter six

                                                      6


          Grace marched back to the Family House with the start of a killer headache, the result of letting that old guy get under her skin.  His absolute conviction was a growing source of irritation, like having a speck of dust in her eye that she couldn’t flush out.  He had no right to be so sure of himself, so confident of his beliefs.  Worse than his blind faith and self-assurance was the way he made her contemplate the fate of her family. She had worked so hard to keep their absence from tearing her apart that she had not given any thought to where, let alone if, they were. 

         No God, meant no heaven.  No beautiful eternity.
She could not convince herself that there existed somewhere a Father God who loved His children and wanted what was best for them, not after what had happened to her family.  But if there was no loving Father God then could there be a place like heaven.  And if heaven did not exist, then what was the alternative.  The idea of her entire family dropping out of existence in the blink of an eye was more than she could deal with, but what else was there?  There had to be more, death could not be the end.  She knew this in her soul.

          The whole vicious circle of conflicting thoughts made her head pound and left her emotionally exhausted and confused.  When she returned to the Family House, she lay listless on the couch and turned the television on.  She did not bother to find something interesting, her mind wouldn’t focus anyway, so she just put it on Nickelodeon and stared blankly at the screen, waiting for sleep to come.

          But, when it finally came, sleep offered no peace from the turmoil of her thoughts and emotions. 



          She is at the scene of the accident that ripped her family from her life.  She knows this without being told.  It is dark and drizzling, and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow in the moisture that clings to everything.  She runs from person to person - police officers, firemen, EMTs, even civilian witnesses - asking the same question of each person, “Why?  Why did this happen?”  They are able to tell when, and how it happened, but no one can tell her why.  There is no answer to Why.

          Grace moaned in her sleep and rolled over, leaving that frustrating scene behind her.  Out of the dark of her sleeping mind, a new scene unfolded.

          She is walking through a peaceful wilderness; a desert place, beautiful in its barrenness and solitude.  There is a man walking beside her and there is something familiar and disturbing about this place and this man.  “Do I know you?” she asks her voice sounding thunderous in the silence.

          “Not yet Grace, but you will.”  Although his answer is cryptic, it satisfies her and they walk on in companionable silence.  They reach the top of a rocky hill and a city opens up below them.  It is not a city that Grace is familiar with, no steel and glass towers reaching to the heavens, no haze of pollution hanging on the horizon.  It is an ancient city of simple dwellings with a crumbling wall around its perimeter.

          “I think I know this place” She whispers.  “Didn’t something terrible happen here?”

          “It depends on how you look at it.”  She looks to him for clarification but his expression gives no clue to his meaning and as she looks into the depths of his eyes, she forgets her question.  It does not matter. 

          They walk on and as they draw nearer to the city, she sees a small crowd gathered outside the wall at the base of a low hill.  Her heart quickens.  “Yes, I’m sure of it.  Something awful is going to happen here and I don’t want to see it.”  She stops and tries to turn back but the man puts his arm around her shoulders and gently leads her forward.

          “I am with you Grace and you have nothing to fear.  If you let me, I will show you the beauty of what takes place here.”  His voice is reassuring, and she trusts him completely, but she still feels a mild panic forming in her gut.

          As they approach the crowd she hears the raised voices of many people all shouting at the same time.  She is able to make out only bits and pieces of what they are saying, “If you are a king then where is your army?  Why don’t they rescue you?”  Bursts of laughter ring out and their insults are lost to her and she is thankful.

          Then she sees the crosses, three of them erected at the top of the hill.  She tries to pull away but the man holds her closer and points to the crosses.  She slowly lifts her gaze and is stunned by what she sees.  Suspended from the center cross, covered in gore and blood, his face so swollen that she barely recognizes him, is the man that is holding her.  Understanding finally dawns, “But isn’t that . . .”

          “Yes Grace it is.”

          “Are you . . .”

          “Yes Grace.”

          “But how . . . Why . . .”

          “I wanted you to see.  I wanted you to see and to know.  I died for you.”
         



          Grace bolted straight up on the couch, the theme to The Cosby Show coming from the television.

          “They died for you Grace.”

          “I died for you.”