It was quiet. The beeping from the equipment and the soft padded footfalls of the nurses were all that human ears could perceive. But Daria perceived so much more. Two floors below, a baby was being born. It cried, a testimony to its existence, its own announcement of need and being to any that would hear. Three floors down, emergency doctors were wheeling a man to surgery. He was slipping from them. They hurried on out of practiced urgency, daring little hope. Daria could hear the wheels of the car. He was gone, like that; so much quieter than when he had come into the world.
Daria heard voices like a roar of an ocean, full of feelings of despair, joy, fatigue, hope, desperation, and promise. She closed Darlene's eyes, closed her own mind to all but the cares of those in that room. There were two there, two dear to one part of her, and as always, both a desperate enigma to that other. Her two halves, so different, she wove together like a badly stitched quilt, hoping to cover, comfort, and warm those chilled with dread and fear. Seraph eyes borrowed her human heart to feel, while human hands reached out with an elohite radiance, to bring peace and grace to mere humans, but humans of her heart.
Charlotte had fallen asleep, her face streaked where her mascara had run in black rivulets, dried testament to the flood of tears. Her soft breath shuddered as she dreamed. Her breathing, like her sleep was shallow. Only fatigue had finally let her drift off.
"Hello, darling."
Greg's voice was weak. Darlene looked over at her husband, reaching through the sidebars of the hospital bed to grasp his hand. His skin was yellowed and blotchy, only a gossamer of thin skin over his bones. She did not have to ask him if it hurt. She stood up and put her hand on his chest, taking his pain. His breathing eased, his starved lungs filled with sweet air, and he sighed. He sighed like a baby, content and tired. She kissed his forehead.
"Where's Charlotte?"
"She's there, sleeping. Do you want me to wake her?"
"No, let her sleep. How long have I been out?"
"A while."
"Good of you to stay," he smiled. Another wave of pain started but Daria took that too.
He relaxed. Looking up at her, he commented, "Hospital light suits you."
"Why do you say that?"
"The light. You look great. It's almost like you are the light."
He blinked and reached out for her. He touched a wing, brushing her feathers softly.
"Man, these are great drugs they give you. Not worth it, I know, but you'd never guess what I'm hallucinating now."
"I might," she smiled.
He stopped touching her wing. He took her hand and squeezed it as much as he could. There was no strength but he wanted her to feel him, feel that touch. His touch said, I can do this, I am still here. He did not speak for a long time.
"Have you thought of what you're going to do?" He swallowed. He was afraid. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"I thought I'd go to California. There's a place out there I've been meaning to visit."
"Yeah, I kind of suspected you might."
"Charlotte's going to college. There won't be anything to keep me."
"Who's out there? You never want to talk about it."
"I have family out there."
"Really? I thought all your family was in Florida. Live with a woman, and you think you know her," he chuckled. "What's it like out there, where your family lives?"
"The ocean is a lovely place. There are blues there you could never imagine. It's like the sky soaks into the water and stays there. It's the kind of place that takes your thoughts and reflects them back up to you, only with more clarity. The music of the waters is as pure as when they were first made."
She stroked his head. "I'm sorry you won't be there with me."
"Yeah, me too." Greg winked at her. He looked down towards his feet.
"Don't be frightened," she whispered, reading his thought.
"Can't help it. I know I've had all this time to get used to it. But, I just can't..."
"You want to know something?" Daria brushed the tears from his eyes, her fingers like feathers.
Greg looked into her eyes with those deep sunken sockets. A brightness emerged from the darkness that said nothing of fear. Sucking in a breath, he nodded.
"I know what's waiting for you."
"What, Heaven? You on about that again? You know I'm not religious, Darlene. I'd be a hypocrite now, if I was to start."
"I'm not either, Greg. You're a good man. That's all that counts in the end."
Darlene eased the sideguard down on her side. She slipped into bed with him effortlessly, pulling his head to rest on her chest. She whispered to him.
"First, you will go to Shamayim. You first come into Shamayim from Purgatory. You will only pass through that place. Then you will walk into the sky from Purgatory's mountain. You'll walk in the sky, like it was land. There in the clouds is a great tall gate, taller than any gate you've ever seen. There are no walls leading up to the gate, just the gate itself. You will come up to the gate that you will have to pass to enter. Shamayim is so beautiful, like all the beautiful places of this world together, green and verdant. For you, it will look like rolling hills of evergreen grass, dotted by blue lakes with white-capped snowy mountains. You will have to climb down those mountains after you pass through the gate, sure footed, no cold, seeing the land fall into place beneath you."
"Saint Peter?"
"No," she laughed. "An angel is there, reading a book. Cherubs guard the gate on either side. In Heaven, the cherubim appear in their true form, terrible winged beasts, great and mighty. But you will not fear them. In that book are the names of all the souls who will enter Heaven. If you lived a good life and are ready for your journey, your name is written into that book when your day is at hand. Yours is there."
"How do you know?"
"I've seen it there. I checked this morning for you. You are so lucky, Greg. Some souls have to come back to try again; some have to do penance in Purgatory. Some are sent to the Pit. You, you made it."
"Crock of bullshit, but I like to hear your voice." His protest was for show. He was listening intently to what she told him, his hopes rising with each word.
"They will check your name, and see that it's there. If it wasn't, no force known to Man or elohim would open that gate for you. With your name in the book though, you just open the gate and through you will go. An angel will appear to guide you through the next part of your journey."
Greg's eyes stared into the distance, trying to see past the acoustic tiles to this place that Daria placed in his mind.
"Next, you will to into Raquia. Raquia is a dark place where the souls of the wicked are taken. You will have to see it but you'll pass quickly through. Just remain with your guide. Then you are in Shehaqim. That's your home, Greg. You'll stay there, along with the souls of the saints and philosophers, family and friends. Paradise is in Shehaqim. And Paradise you bring with you. All your secret dreams, all your fancies of flight and comfort and discovery, all are there for you to discover and rediscover. And you can stay there as long as you want, until you are ready for the final journey."
"Sounds like this, um, what Shekim?"
"Shehaqim."
"Sounds good to me. Why would I want to leave?"
"Your soul will get tired of perfection. Your destiny lies in a place beyond the Heavens, maybe by God's side, maybe not. I don't know what happens to humans' souls once they decide to travel on. No elohim knows."
"But I get to stay in Paradise, as long as I want?"
"As long as you want."
"Sounds good. And I'll see you and Charlotte there someday?"
"Yes, if you haven't travelled on by then, I'll come to visit you once the War is over. Charlotte, her story is still being written. I can't see yet which way she will go. But I will help guide her, as much as I'm allowed."
Greg started to laugh. "Darlene, ole gal, you read some strange books." He laughed some more. He didn't seem to realize that he wasn't afraid any more. But his laughter turned to coughing. Daria massaged his chest and he was able to breathe again.
"Darlene, maybe you'd better wake Charlotte."
story by Solanio