Richard eased himself into the old, battered easy chair in the corner of his living room. The evening sky outside was darkening from lighter to dark blue, but still there was only one light on in the little room, the reading lamp beside the chair. He sat, as he always did, in that small pool of light, and as he always did stared out the window at nothing in particular, ruminating on the day. It had been a good one, the first good one perhaps in a long time, and he was tired, achy, and breathing was a little harder than it usually was, but still he felt...not good maybe, but better.
He thought he heard a knock on the door, cocked his head; but no, he never had visitors, and dismissed it as a trick of the wind. A moment later he thought he heard another knock, louder. Confused, he painfully hoisted himself out of the chair and, going to the front door, opened it.
"Monica." He said in surprise, and flipped on the porch light. "What are you - "
He stopped as someone else stepped out from behind Monica, a young woman he instantly recognized. He knew it was Beth Perkins, but didn't say her name, couldn't, just stood and stared at her. She looked scared, unsure, and didn't say anything either at first either, but after a strengthening look from Monica Beth stammered, "Hello, Mr. Paxton. Remember me?"
Richard blinked, nodded dumbly, still too shocked to utter a word. He stood back, stumbling just a bit, and let the two women into the living room.
Beth looked at a square parcel she clutched in her hands. "Um..I've kind of never done this before, so I'm probably not real good at it, but...Monica told me it would be a good idea if we - if we talked about...things, you know." She stopped and heaved a sigh, and now lifted her head and looked at Richard. "I just wanted to say, I've been thinking a lot lately, and - "Heaving another sigh - "And I know everybody around here's been giving you the cold shoulder, and I know how alone you've been because, because I've been alone too, and I know how it feels when something you've been through drags on you like that..."
Richard was shaking his head. "You should never have gone through that. It was all my fault." Beth pushed forward. "I - I know, and for a long time I hated you, and I blamed you for what happened here, but - tonight I kind of asked for some help in getting over it and - and I'm not too sure how the whole thing works, but if it'll help you maybe then - then I want say that ...I forgive you for what happened that night."
She finished the sentence uncertainly, and keeping her head down looked at Richard as if unsure of her words. He stood there, unmoving, not uttering a sound.
"Um - " She cast a quick glance at Monica, "I thought - Monica told me you really didn't have anything on your walls, so I brought this with me. I kind of paint some." She looked at the parcel, then awkwardly thrust it toward him. "Here."
Richard blinked at the parcel, took it as if he was sleepwalking. Trembling, he unwrapped the brown paper. It was a small painting, a silvery-white dove fluttering against a bright blue sky, a wispy green olive branch held in its beak.
Richard gazed at it in awe. "It's beautiful." He said quietly.
"I thought you might like it," Beth said quickly, "It's - a peace offering I guess. Here - "
She walked over to the easy chair in the pool of light, and placed her hand on the black-bordered picture that hung behind the chair. Taking it from its nail, she looked at it sadly.
"I can't lie to you, Mr. Paxton," Beth said in a tremulous voice as she studied those young faces, "What happened back then still really hurts. I really miss my friends. But you know what? I don't think they want us to mourn for them anymore. I think maybe they want us to be happy again. I know Eddie does. I think he's - " She gently placed the photograph on the seat of the chair. "I think they're all waiting to meet us, at the church... and at the record store, and the candy store...they're waiting for us in tomorrow. And that's where I want to be from now on. Don't you?"
Swallowing hard, Richard approached Beth and handed her the painting. She accepted it and placed it on the nail. They looked at each other, two silhouetted figures in that pool of light, then Beth reached out and gave Richard a gentle hug, which he returned.
Monica, who had lingered behind in the shadows, smiled at the scene before her and quietly slipped out the front door. Once outside, she spied Tess standing beneath the trees and approached her, beaming.
"I think Beth and Richard are going to be just fine," She sighed happily, "I think they've taken the first step."
"And just in time," Tess intoned knowingly. "If Beth had waited till tomorrow, she would have been too late."
Monica gave her a surprised, then dismayed look, then turned her head back to the door. Through it she could see Beth and Richard talking, the light from the lamp surrounding them, and, she knew, another light surrounding them as well. She couldn't see it but she could definitely feel it.
A thought occurred. Monica turned to Tess once more. "Have you heard from Andrew?"
Tess nodded. "I think he's taking care of some unfinished business in the cemetery..."
From his place on the shore of the small lake in the cemetery, Andrew watched the last glimmering of the setting sun. It was nighttime now; the stars began to glint in the cobalt sky, twinkling through the tree branches as they sighed in the warm breeze. Slowly Andrew stood and put his hands in his pockets, staring silently at the gently rippling water. Then he turned his eyes Heavenward, to the shimmering stars and the blue-white clouds that veiled them in misty auras of light.
God, he prayed silently, I need to ask for Your forgiveness. I've been having trouble accepting Your purpose. I thought - I thought I could make Cory understand how much you loved him, but when it wasn't happening I...I lost patience. I let You down. You know how much I've hurt since then, but...I need to feel the peace of Your forgiveness now. I know I asked for it before, but I guess I just wasn't ready to accept it and now..." Andrew sighed and looked over the cemetery, the lights of the town beyond, the stars. "Now I think I am. Because it's time, It's time to move on. So, if You can find it in Your heart, please forgive Your faltering servant. And God, help me when it's time to take Richard Paxton home. I need to forgive him, God, but it's so hard. Help me see him as You do, one of Your children whom You love as much as you do the most perfect saint. Where there is pain and sorrow in my heart, replace it with joy that I might bring him to Your presence with gladness. Release me from the past, that I may show him Your triumphant eternity. Amen.
Sighing softly, Andrew lifted his head. The sun was completely set now; the cemetery was bathed in brilliant starlight, casting a luminous blue glow over the lake. As he studied it, Andrew saw Tess and Monica approaching him.
Monica reached him first. He smiled a little and held his hand out to her, which she took with a reassuring squeeze. Tess came up behind Monica and said softly. "You know you got a job to do, Angel-boy."
Andrew looked out onto the lake again and nodded. "Yes, I know."
Monica noticed Andrew's tone was lighter, not full of despair as before. She said, "Are you feeling better?"
"With God's help," Andrew admitted, turning towards his friends. "And yours. You helped me see that I didn't have to hang onto this forever. Maybe it's time to let it go. Move on. And maybe someday I'll be able to accept what happened to Cory without too much pain."
Monica smiled sympathetically and squeezed Andrew's hand again. "And what about Richard?"
Andrew looked down. "If Richard Paxton has asked for forgiveness from his heart, God has given it. And if He gives it, I will lead Richard to God's presence."
Monica cocked her head. "But have you forgiven him?"
Andrew looked at her, and even in the dim light she could see a trace of sadness. Andrew looked at her, looked at Tess, and said quietly, "With God's help, I guess anything is possible. Now if you'll excuse me, I... have a job to do."
With that, Andrew dropped Monica's hand and, giving them both a farewell nod, walked quickly out of the cemetery and beyond their view.
Monica watched him go, shaking her head in confusion. "I must confess, Tess, that sometimes I just don't understand God's ways. I mean, Andrew isn't the only angel of death. It seems cruel to make him lead Richard home, and put him through so much pain, if there's nothing to be gained by it."
"Don't you go questioning God's judgment," Tess admonished, kindly but sternly, "If He wants Angel-boy to be the one, there's got to be a reason for it. We'll just have to wait and find out what it is."
Nodding, but still confused, Monica bit her lip and looked out on the quiet water.
Richard eased back in the big, ratty old easy chair and once again picked Beth's painting up and admired it. He just couldn't leave it on the nail behind the chair; he had taken it off, and propped it up on the little table by the chair, picking it up now and again to study it. The beauty of it made him forget somewhat the strange dizziness he'd felt all day, the pain in his chest. He hadn't said anything about it but...he set the painting down again and gazed at it thoughtfully.
After a while he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he noticed someone else was in the room, standing in the corner in the shadows. He didn't move, and barely blinked until the figure strode forward. Then his jaw dropped open and he said, "You!"
Andrew worked hard against the pain he still felt in his heart at seeing Richard again, as close to him as he was the night of the accident. Praying as hard as he ever had, Andrew bit his lip as the golden glow encircled him and said, "Mr. Paxton - "
Before he could get out another word, Richard lurched out the chair and dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together fervently, and cried, "Please forgive me!"
Andrew sighed inwardly. This wasn't going to be easy. "Mr. Paxton, I'm not God. My name is Andrew, and I'm - "
"I know who you are," Richard said quickly, cutting Andrew off.
Andrew blinked, a bit surprised. "You do?"
Richard nodded. "You're an angel, right?"
A little thrown, Andrew paused, nodded, then continued, "If you seek forgiveness from God, you'll have to ask Him yourself. I can't grant it. I'm a messenger, sent from God to take you into His presence."
Richard didn't seem to be listening. "I know you're not God. I asked for God's forgiveness a long time ago, well, I don't know if He ever did hear me or not. But right now it's not His forgiveness I want. It's yours."
Andrew's head began to hurt. Intrigued though, he asked, "Why mine?"
Richard sat back on his knees and looked at Andrew sadly. "I must have seen you in the church a dozen times, I didn't know what you were. I thought you were a Sunday School teacher. I saw you with the kids, how good you were with them. I should have guessed."
Andrew felt himself growing impatient. Usually the trip to Heaven would be over by now. "Mr. Paxton - "
"Please hear me out." The old man begged. "You see, those kids died because I was careless. I never thought anything I ever did mattered to anybody. Reckless, I guess. Even in church, I never gave any money, I never helped out because I thought nobody would notice that I didn't care. Because nobody got hurt, right? And then that night..." Richard lowered his head and shook it ruefully. "I still wasn't paying attention..."
He's rambling, Andrew thought. Why now? "Mr. Paxton, it's time to go."
"No, please, just let me finish. I didn't know who you were until I saw you at the accident. I don't know why I saw you - I don't think anyone else did. You were glowing, just like you are now, and you were holding that one kid's jacket in your hands. I saw this look on your face, like somebody had hurt you so bad..."
The old anguish returned, threatened briefly to flood over the angel. God help me, he prayed, and it diminished.
Richard lowered his head again, and there was a repressed sob in his voice. "Later on I saw you again. You were taking one of the kids to Heaven, a girl. She looked so - so scared, and I saw you comforting her, and - you were so kind and loving to her, even though I could tell you were still hurting yourself, you still hanged tough and did your job and - and I was so ashamed." Richard ran a hand through his hair. "Because even though I'd hurt you, you still showed love to us."
"It wasn't me," Andrew said tightly, his mouth dry, "It was God in me. His love always shines through."
Richard nodded numbly. "I know. I know God was there that night, and when I saw you taking that girl, holding that jacket with that look of - later on I thought maybe I looked like that when I saw the train and hit the brakes. I knew I'd done something awful, but I couldn't change it. Even right before the bus hit the train I thought, God, please don't make this happen! But it did, and I couldn't do anything about it, and I've felt horrible about it ever since. Horrible!" Richard stared at the floor. "I guess angels don't know anything about that sort of thing..."
Andrew felt as if he had lost his voice. "You might be surprised, Mr. Paxton." He said simply, "Are you ready to - "
Richard suddenly lifted his head. "Do you want to know what happened to him?"
Andrew blinked, shook his head. "Who?"
"The kid who owned the jacket. Cory. Oh - well, you probably already know, being an angel."
Andrew's eyes widened; he suddenly felt numb, as if something was hanging unsaid in the air, something he needed to know. Had to know...
"Pretend I don't." He said, even more tightly.
Richard scratched his head. "Well, I found him on the bus right after we got to the concert. He was real mad at you and God, was all set to run off. But after the other kids got off the bus we got to talking." Richard looked right into Andrew's eyes. "He really looked up to you, you know? He said nobody else listened to him like you did. He told me he felt bad for swearing at you, I guess you kind of overwhelmed him when you said you'd follow him to his new home. I think he was scared to believe that you cared that much. But after we talked some more he said he wanted to go back to the church and tell you he was sorry. And he was, real sorry."
Andrew could scarcely believe what he was hearing. "Did he say anything about God?"
"God? Yeah, he asked me if I believed in God, and I said, yeah, sure. Then he asked me if he told God he was sorry, if God would forgive him. I said try it and find out. You know," Richard said wistfully, "That was the last sight I had of that kid, hunched in the back of the school bus with his eyes closed and his hands folded. Didn't think about him any more until after the accident..." Richard bent his head and shook it again, sorrowfully.
Andrew felt as if an electric shock had gone through him. Cory had accepted God. He'd gone to Heaven after all. The burden of doubt and self-recrimination that had lain on Andrew's shoulders for fifteen years suddenly lifted as if with a shout of joy, and he stared in wonder at the humble human who was kneeling before him, who had freed him so unknowingly.
Richard seemed unaware of Andrew's unabashed wonder, and lifted his head slowly. "Well, all I wanted was your forgiveness for what I did to you that night. Whatever that boy meant to you, I took it away. Just tell me you forgive me and...well, I guess the demons can come and take me away."
"Mr. Paxton - " Andrew almost gasped, so great was his relief and joy. He smiled, a genuine, broad, heartfelt smile that seemed to add to the glow around him and increase it a hundredfold, "Mr. Paxton, I do forgive you." And he meant it. "And - it's not up to me whether you get into Heaven, but if you've confessed your errors to God, and meant it, then I can promise you His forgiveness as well."
Richard looked puzzled, doubting. "You can? But I killed all those kids..."
"God knows, and He's heard your prayers of repentance. He's felt your sorrow, and he know you've been seeking forgiveness all these years. He's heard you, Mr. Paxton."
Richard didn't seem to believe it. "But how? How can He forgive me? I don't understand."
Andrew smiled again, and knew there were tears in his eyes but didn't care. He was too happy. "Mr. Paxton, believe me, the grace of God passes all human - "Andrew checked himself. " - actually, it passes ALL understanding. We all make mistakes. but God's mercy is that they can be wiped away forever and replaced with new life and everlasting peace." He looked down at his human charge and said quietly, gently, "And now, Mr. Paxton, I need to ask your forgiveness. I - judged you wrongly, blamed you for something I shouldn't have. Can you forgive me?"
Still on his knees, Richard stared at Andrew and said, "Forgive you? Yes, sure."
Andrew leaned back a little and smiled even wider, feeling suddenly light and buoyant. He tilted his head to Heaven for a moment, then looked at Richard and said, "Come on, Richard. It's time to go."
Obviously still somewhat dumbfounded, Richard staggered to his knees. He took a few faltering steps toward the dazzling angel, then stopped. Andrew held his hand out, but Richard was looking at the angel's shimmering white suit, the flaming blond hair. He touched his own grubby jeans, the ragged shirt, and shook his head.
"I still don't get it. Do you think God would want a dirty sinner like me in Heaven?"
Andrew shook his head in gentle reproach, but his smile still beamed. "Oh, Mr. Paxton, you should never call what God has cleansed unclean. Come on."
Hesitantly, Richard came close enough for Andrew to take him by the arm. As he studied the angel closely Richard's eyes widened.
"That light around you is the warmest thing I've felt in fifteen years." He remarked.
"Just you wait, Mr. Paxton," Andrew replied, all the happiness and exultation of Heaven singing in his heart as he led Richard into the light, "You ain't seen nothing yet."
A few days later Tess stood on the lawn of the newly refurbished church and watched Monica come walking across the street. Richard's funeral had been just a few hours earlier, held in the quiet morning hours of what promised to be a beautiful, warm spring day. As Monica neared, she smoothed the folds of the simple black dress she was wearing and smiled sadly at her supervisor. She had tears in her eyes.
"You all right, baby?" Tess asked.
Monica nodded, "It's just so sad. I don't suppose I should have expected a crowd at Richard's funeral, but it was really just me and a few others." Monica shook her head and gazed at the church lawn. "Oh, Tess, I hope we did some good here."
"You need convincing?" Tess said indignantly. "Look around you. This church is shining again, and if I know God He won't stop at just fixing up the outside."
"I hope you're right," Monica sighed. "I do know that all Richard wanted to do was make up for what he did. He wanted the town to know hope again, to live like it should. Maybe now that the church is renewed that can happen."
"With God's help anything is possible." Tess postulated. "Was Beth at the funeral?"
Monica nodded, her eyes far away. "She said she wanted to be alone for a while. I told her I'd come back and say goodbye."
Tess smiled warmly and put her arm around her protégé and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "You did a good job with her, Miss Wings. I'm proud of you. And God is too."
In the cemetery, Beth, in her best black dress, stood at Richard's grave quietly, thinking. After a moment she looked up and saw,walking towards her, someone she instantly recognized.
She waited until he had reached the point where she stood. Then she smiled at the glimmering figure and said, "I know you. The Sunday School teacher. The gorgeous guy in the beige suit."
Andrew smiled faintly. "Hello, Beth."
Beth looked at the grave, fresh earth mounded neatly. "You take him to Heaven?"
Andrew looked at the grave also. "I took him into God's presence. "
Beth shook her head. "It's so weird. I used to pray to God every day that Richard Paxton would die and burn in Hell. And now that I've forgiven him...I don't feel like that anymore."
Andrew smiled to himself. "God's grace can heal you in ways you never thought possible. I know. He healed me."
Beth looked at him, puzzled. "Angels need healing too?"
Andrew drew in a breath, sighed, and said, "Yes. Beth, God sent me to tell you it's time for what you're planning. He wants you to know He's behind you all the way."
Beth looked at him with purpose and nodded, then asked, "Can you help me with something?"
As Monica smiled back at Tess she heard a voice across the street call her name and looked. Mildred Cooper was bustling her way across the street, smiling and waving. Monica saw Mrs. Stratford too, but that woman was staying on the other side of the street, her arms folded, looking at the church with a disapproving expression.
"Mrs. Cooper," Monica acknowledged as the woman approached.
Mildred gave them both a friendly grin. "I just wanted to stop by and tell you both what a wonderful job you've done with the church yard. I know I said it before, but now that it's done it just looks - well, heavenly!"
"Thank you," Tess responded politely, "But it was really Richard Paxton that did all the work."
"Oh, yes," Mildred said, apparently saddened, "I heard he'd passed on. I wish he hadn't..."
Monica was surprised. "Why do you say that?"
Mildred looked around, obviously uncomfortable. "Well, I...Monica, can I speak to you alone for a moment?"
"Don't mind me," Tess said importantly, turning away, "I'll just go check the other side of the building."
After Tess had left, Mildred gave Monica a shamefaced look and said, "Well, you know the other day when we were all standing out here and you said I should be nice to Richard? Well, I thought about that and - and you know, the more I thought about the more I thought, well, why not. But of course, that was before...I almost offered him one of those doughnuts, but I didn't. Now I kind of wish I had. I guess - " Mildred laughed self-consciously. "I guess I'm kind of ashamed of myself."
Monica smiled. "Do you feel better now?"
Mildred thought about it, shrugged amiably. "A little, I guess. Nothing I can do about it now."
"Oh, but there is." Monica said reassuringly. "Richard's last hope was that the church be looked after, that it grow again and give back to the community what the accident took away. It's really all he wanted. Now we'll be leaving soon, but somebody needs to take care of it and make sure it's tended and not forgotten. Do you think you know of anyone who could take on such a responsibility?"
Mildred's eyes got big, then smaller again. "Are you asking me? Well, I don't know... funny, you know while my Robert was alive he was the groundskeeper here, so I do know a thing or two about it..." She seemed to mull this over, and finally smiled. "I guess I can think about it. Who do I contact?"
Monica's eyes twinkled. "Just pray, Mrs. Cooper. You'll reach the right parties."
Mildred smiled and nodded, as if she understood. Monica wasn't sure if she really did understand, but that was alright. Monica knew God understood, and that was all that mattered.
Tess reappeared from around the building and said, "Well, everything's in place. I guess it's time to - "
Mildred suddenly pointed into the sky and said, "Look at that!"
Monica looked. There, floating above the old gabled roofs of the downtown, were a number of brightly colored helium balloons. One by one they were drifting skyward, up into the high morning clouds.
A few passing pedestrians had noticed them too, and commented among themselves.
"That's coming from the cemetery," Monica realized, and together they all walked across the street toward that place.
As they neared the large iron gates, Monica saw Beth, dressed in black, standing on a small hill just outside the cemetery, a cluster of rainbow-hued balloons in her hand. Standing next to her, looking heavenward, was Andrew. He looked over and saw the small group of townspeople approach. He gave Beth a smile and walked off the hill. Monica and Tess met him at the base and he took their hands in his.
"Andrew," Monica said. She had not seen him since the night before. "Are you all right now?"
Andrew gave her a dazzling smile by way of answer. "Better than all right. Monica, Tess, God has reminded me again how incredibly great His love and forgiveness is. I - " He shook his head, gave up, shrugged his shoulders. "I have no words. Thank you for helping me."
"Our pleasure, baby," Tess smiled, and reached up to pat his cheek. "Anything to see that handsome face laugh again."
Andrew blushed a bit, looked down, then up at Beth as she spoke to the little group that had clustered at the base of the hill.
"I know you all probably think I'm crazy," She smiled as she pulled another balloon from the bunch and held it in one hand. "But maybe you won't when I tell you what I'm doing. I'm sending a promise to Heaven. These balloons are for my friends in Heaven..." Her voice caught a little, and she let the balloon go. "I thought maybe they'd want to know how I'm doing, so I attached a little note to each one. It says I'm okay now. I wasn't," She paused to look over the crowd, which was growing. "Not for a long time. I don't think any of us were. For a real long time I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I guess I didn't want to stop living with those great memories of what this place was like, before. But last night I kind of figured out that my friends don't want us to be there anymore. So I'm sending these," She pulled out another balloon, let it go. "To tell them goodbye, or I guess, until we meet again. And I'm also sending them a promise, because I want to get the town back, and I know with God's help we can do it."
The crowd murmured a little, shook their heads in confusion.
Beth smiled and looked at Monica. "I know, you think it sounds crazy. But I have it on very good authority that we can do it, and I want to start by finding a new pastor for our church, maybe paint some new murals on the walls and reopen it, so we can all start living again, with God's help. I know some of you think I shouldn't have gone to Richard Paxton's funeral this morning, but I'm glad I did. Because it was really hard, forgiving him for what he did, but once I did - "She happily pulled out another balloon and let it go. "- I felt just like one of these balloons, I felt light and free, as if a shroud had been taken off. I want us all to feel like that again, don't you? Don't you want to feel hope, and joy, and like tomorrow's going to be better instead of just the same? Please, for Eddie, for Lisa, for - for your nephew, Tommy - " Beth looked at Mrs. Stratford, who jolted as if struck and stared back, "For everybody. They don't want us to mourn them anymore. They want us to live. And - and now so do I."
Smiling, tears in her eyes, Beth pulled out another balloon. She looked away to release it - and felt a tug at the bunch in her hands. Turning quickly, she saw Mildred Cooper standing next to her, pulling at the strings. The woman gave her a smile.
"What the heck," She said, "Looks like fun. And it's about time." So saying, she yanked out a balloon and let it go.
As Monica, Tess, and Andrew watched, several of the other townspeople, uncertainly, hesitantly, approached Beth and took balloons. Then they let them go, wavering, not with Beth's certain faith but with a faltering kind of hope that what she was saying might come true. Monica saw Mildred bring a balloon to Mrs. Stratford, but the old woman still stood there, arms folded, resisting Mildred's insistent gaze. Finally she gave the bright sphere a bewildered, almost angry look and turning on her heel strode through the crowd and out of the area.
Monica moved quickly to Mildred's side as the woman sadly watched her friend leave. "Don't worry," Monica soothed, putting an arm around her shoulder. "She's just not ready yet. Hopefully one day she will be."
Mildred gave Monica a grateful smile and said, "I hope so. Cause this does feel good!" and released the balloon.
Finally the group melted away, talking amongst themselves and leaving Beth standing alone on the hill, holding one white balloon. She looked at it a moment, then down at the three angels at the base of the little hill. Andrew left his friends and went to stand by Beth, looking down at her with happy, rejoicing eyes.
Beth smiled at him and held out the balloon. "I was saving this last one for Richard."
Andrew nodded and took hold of the string. As Monica and Tess watched, Beth and Andrew released the balloon together, and it floated up, past the whispering trees of the cemetery, past the tarred roofs of main street, finally past the gleaming steeple of the church and up into the morning sun, until finally it found its way into the brilliant whiteness of the clouds, and somewhere in them, became a perfect dove and flew away to Heaven.
