“Sarah, this is Henry Schuyler, the one I told you about.”
Sarah nodded and listened as he introduced each to her. An overwhelming uneasiness came over her. If she were dead, they certainly wouldn’t be able to see her, would they?
“Where’s John?”
“Probably back at his house. Anne had another little one.”
“Another?”
“That makes three now.”
“And Ma?”
“She’d back at the house.” Henry looked at him strangely. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“You’re Pa’ll be glad to see you.” The one called Tom said.
“Pa? My father…He died over twelve years ago…I was barely over ten.”
They were all staring at him as if they couldn’t believe his awe.
Henry shook his head. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”
“It’s the devil’s curse,” someone else said.
Not even paying attention, Nathan took off on a dead run.
“Nathan—“ Henry called to deaf ears. “You’d do best to keep out of town!”
Sarah blindly went after him. She didn’t bother calling him because she knew he wasn’t listening. Instead she followed him at breakneck speed.
He ran to a group of small cabins which were somewhat like the one Nathan had built. It looked like the backdrop of a Norman Rockwell painting. Sheep and cows roamed the pasture side. To the left of the cabin, a thatch of cattails grew on the shore beside a small pond.
A man was working in one of the fields. Sarah had never witnessed anyone using a horse-drawn plow. The sight was almost surreal.
Nathan ran to him. The man was Nathan’s size in height and strength, but Nathan picked him up as if he were made of feathers. He spun the man around, and they both dropped to the ground laughing and hugging.
The man was Nathan’s father. Sarah knew it, felt it down to her toes. Nathan’s father had died when he was a boy, and now he was here. Living, breathing. Alive.
But there was no way he could be.
Bile rose in her throat. Nathan’s father was dead, which meant she did not go back in time. She was dead too.
“Oh, God!”
Sarah whirled in the direction of the voice. A woman stood in the doorway of the cabin. Stocky, mid-fifties, she was dressed in a long skirt and linen top. Her hair was braided down her back.
“You’re Nathan’s mission.” She stared at her with Nathan’s striking blue eyes.
“Excuse me?”
She woman brought her fist to her mouth as if she were fighting the urge to cry. “I-I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.”
“Why have you come? You weren’t supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean? Where am I supposed to be?”
“Did you stay out of town?”
“Why is everyone afraid of town?” Sarah raised her voice, trying hard to fight her own panic.
“Has Father James seen you?”
“No,” Nathan answered. He was walking toward them, his arm around his father. “Should he?”
His mother seemed genuinely scared. “I’m sure he knows you’re here already.”
* * *
Diane Green held her head in her hands. The migraine meds weren’t working, neither was the fourth cup of coffee. Her brain was a rabbit stuck on the train track, and the CSX was headed right for her.
Downing another MAOI with cold coffee, she listened to the whishing sounds made by the life support machine, watched it inflate her daughter’s lungs. Hating it. Thanking God for it because it was the only thing keeping Sarah alive.
She would stay positive. For now, Sarah was alive. Stan was in good hands with Therman, who everyday surprised her with his kindness. Little things like being there when she had explained to Stan about Sarah being sick. Making sure that she eat something, a sweet roll from the vending machine or more coffee. Bringing flowers to Sarah’s room. Little things were important right now, and she would focus on them. It was all she had.
“How long is she going to be like this?”
Diane looked up at her ex-husband. She wondered when his hair had become peppered with gray. They were old, the both of them, and it wasn’t fair. Sarah was only thirty. She had her whole future ahead of her.
“The doctors don’t know,” she answered at last, but it fell on deaf ears. Sam Green had already stormed out of the room.
She stared at her daughter, lovingly pushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Her baby. Sarah had never given her any trouble as a child. Even her labor was easy.
There were so many goddamned tubes sticking out of her mouth and nose. It wasn’t fair.
Exactly one month ago today, a hiker had found Sarah unconscious atop French Mountain. Diane had no idea why she’d ever be on a mountain. Sarah wasn’t a climber. She didn’t have time, what with running a business. One minute she had been leaving to have lunch with a friend, now she couldn’t breathe on her own.
Her scan was wrong. That was all there was to it. There was no aneurysm. Sarah had been stressed and overworked. This was just an effect of that. Once it worked through her system, she would wake up. Everything would be fine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nathan knocked on the heavy oak door. He listened for a reply from deep within the sanctuary, and when none came, he let himself inside.
The scent of aged books and burning candles filled his nostrils. A feeling of familiarity hit him. This little church had been built the year he went to war. He and John, under Ma’s persistence, had helped construct the slate roof. He remembered every account of. Jane had first approached him that day. She’d brought him and John mugs of cider. She’d asked John to move her wagon, and when he’d left, she had told Nathan that she fancied him. Outright and outspoken, leaving no question to her intentions. Typical Jane.
He looked around the simple white-washed walls and rough hewn pews. It didn’t look any different now than when he had left. Only this wasn’t White Creek. This was heaven. He knew that because his family was here.
He was dead, but he’d never felt more alive. Or more confused. On his way over here, he’d discovered that his powers were gone. He’d tried to transport himself to the church, but he was unable to do it. In a desperate test, he’d tried to walk through Tom Hanson’s barn, but it had been solid as a rock.
If anyone could give him some answers, he supposed, it was Father James. Nathan had never been close to the preacher, and Ma had begged him not to come here. Word was out that he was being blamed for his misconduct, that he’d been placed on assignment and hadn’t carried it out. Nathan knew nothing about assignments or of what was going on. But he intended to find out.
He removed his hat and slowly approached the altar. It was nothing more than a pulpit made of birch wood. He’d never heard Father James preach here. Oh, he’d been to church when he was little, when Ma had dragged him, but to go on his own. It just wasn’t in him.
Father James came out of the little room just behind the pulpit.
“Nathan.”
The preacher hadn’t changed a bit since Nathan had left for war. He still wore the vest and breeches that looked handed down and too large for him. His hair hadn’t thinned anymore than it already was. His expression was still stern, as if he knew everything about a person, even those who never attended church.
“Father.”
“I wondered when you’d come see me.” He closed the book he was reading. “Or if you would at all.”
“Why would you say that?” Nathan asked, but realized he already knew the answer. Nathan had never been a church goer. Sunday services were a waste of time which could much better be spent fishing or working.
If anyone at all should be exiled from the afterlife or whatever this place was, Nathan suddenly realized, it should be him. But he must be in heaven or some form of it because Father James was here. If anyone deserved a place in eternity, the preacher surely did.
“Father, I’m ve
ry confused.”
“And rightly so, I suppose. Do you want to go upstairs?”
Nathan shook his head. Father James lived in the little loft above the church. Nathan suddenly didn’t want to be anywhere else. So many things seemed wrong, but here…here it was right.
“Am I in heaven?”
“Being surrounded by those you love for an eternity, wouldn’t you say it was?”
Nathan would. Not that he’d thought much about heaven in life, but he’d always pictured it with angels sitting on fluffy clouds. Not a replica of his life on Earth.
“If this is heaven, where is God?”
“He’s all around.” Father spread out his arms. “Do you not sense His presence?”
Nathan sensed something. Questions…too many to ever be answered.
“What about those things…the griffins?”
“They are the guards, the portals, you might say,” Father answered. “You are in a place where danger and troubles do not come. I lived life as a mortal. I walked the best path I knew. I do not know all the answers. I am not meant to know.”
“So you accept that?”
“It is enough.”
“Then why was I sent to Earth?”
Father sighed. “I expected I would be the one to have to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“The Elders felt it was time to prove yourself.”
“Who are the Elders?”
Father James shifted in his seat. Seemingly from out of nowhere, a man appeared near the altar.
Apprehension replaced any form of peace Nathan had been feeling. The man must have stood over seven feet tall. Dressed in a long white robe, his hair was like snow falling over his shoulders.
The man…or whatever he was… slowly walked to their pew, his movements slow and fluid, as if perhaps he wasn’t really walking at all. Nathan thought the man might actually be floating.
He stood across from Nathan.
“Nathan, this is Michael,” Father James introduced. “He is one of the Elders.”
“Assistant Prayer Coordinator, to be exact.” Michael extended his hand to Nathan. It was warm, filling Nathan with an unexpected calmness. “I’m pleased to see you again.”
“We’ve met before?” Confusion interrupted any peace Nathan hoped to regain. “I don’t remember you from White Creek.”
“Your memory will return,” Michael assured. “I never lived on Earth. Elders are never mortal. It’s one of the rules, Book Twelve, Section 515a, Revision five.”
A book suddenly appeared out of thin air and into Michael’s open hands. “Let me see…You died in…1747. Yes, it’s right here on file.”
“I have a file?”
“All mortals have to be sent on assignment. Your brother had his, oh…” Another book appeared in Michael’s hand. “In 1865. A very tough assignment. He had to help that surgeon at Andersonville who almost committed the worst act.”
“What?”
“Suicide.”
John’s file disappeared. Michael went back to Nathan’s file. “Yours was Sarah Price.”
Sarah. The mention of her name left Nathan with a sense of dread. He’d left her with his family, so he wasn’t worried about her there. It was her future he was unsure about.
He didn’t want to ask, but there was no way he could not ask. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s destined to die.”
Nathan wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “She can’t die.”
“You can’t remember, can you? Here.” Michael waved his hand in front of him. “I thought it would have worn off by now.”
Nathan felt his head clear. Not just clear but renew itself in a way he’d never before experienced. Suddenly, he knew everything. He remembered Michael giving him his assignment, remembered sitting here in this church and seeing a picture of Sarah appear from thin air.
He knew why he’d come to Earth.
“Cole—“
“Don’t say that name here.” Michael’s voice pounded off the church walls. “I won’t hear of it. He put a spell on you, yes. A particularly strong spell for the state he’s in, I must say.”
The messenger to the dark side, Cole was in a state of exile, Nathan suddenly knew. Foiling Nathan’s mission would have won him back in favor with the Dark One. Cole wanted Sarah’s soul, but he didn’t get it. Not yet anyway.
Sarah was destined to die. He saw it in his mind’s eye. Saw the aneurysm she carried deep in her cerebrum.
“I was to escort her here,” Nathan whispered. A lump formed in his throat. No matter how hard he tried to swallow it down, it wouldn’t go away.
“Sarah’s name is written in the Book of Life.” Michael showed her the page.
“Then I was successful. I brought her here.”
“It isn’t that simple, Nathan. Sarah lives in 2005. Her heaven would be that of her world, filled with people she’s known and loved.”
“Like her daughter.”
“Precisely.”
“But I love her.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
Nathan couldn’t believe this was happening. The irony of it all hit him full force. Bitterness washed over him. He wasn’t going to listen to this.
“Nathan—“
“You’re wrong. Sarah’s here with me.”
“Which is a problem. This has never happened before. She has not died yet, when you brought her here. You used your powers to bring a mortal to heaven and there are consequences to pay for that.”
“What consequences?”
“That is up to the Elders to decide.”
Anger filled him. “Let me get this straight. I was just sent to do this important job with no knowledge, I get a spell put on me, through no fault of my own, and now you tell me I didn’t do it correctly so I’m being punished.”
“There were mistakes made,” Michael said. “An exiled demon cast a spell on you and you forgot your mission, but your faith, I’m afraid, was weak.”
“Are you telling me I didn’t lead a good life?” Anger made Nathan’s temple throb. “I’m only human.”
“And what did you do for the good of mankind?”
“I went to war. I lost my life for it!”
“And what was your motivation?” Michael asked. “To win the heart of a girl’s father.”
Nathan had nothing to say. He didn’t think he’d ever felt greater disappointment. He’d led a good life. He’d never killed anyone in cold blood. Just because he never went to church every Sunday was no reason to cast him off. Heaven blamed him for allowing Cole’s spell to take on him.
Michael released a long, pent up sigh. He grasped Nathan’s shoulder, but Nathan shrugged it off. “The bottom line is you failed at your mission because you didn’t have enough faith.”
“I’m not going to listen to this. You’re crazy. Dead or not, Sarah’s staying with me.”
“She can’t.”
“Then I’ll take her somewhere else.”
“You can no longer do that.” Michael stepped toward him. “What you don’t seem to realize is that you have no choice. You must go along with us.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m afraid it will be worse consequences.”
* * *
Sarah sat at the end of the large plank table which was covered with flour, bread dough, and various meats and vegetables. She watched Nathan’s mother and sister-in-law, Anne, work. Each were baking machines with a system that was like an assembly worker’s. One mixed and kneaded the bread while the other placed it into the brick oven which was part of a huge colonial-style fireplace.
Every so often, the two women would glance over at her. When Nathan had first introduced her, they had welcomed her but stared at her with questioning glances as if they wanted to ask her something or they were afraid of her. She wasn’t sure which. Now with Nathan gone, they would answer none of her questions. She was tired of asking, so she said nothing and prayed Nathan would be back sh
ortly.
One of the children, Sarah had forgotten his name, there were so many, approached her side of the table. He looked to be about five years old.
He tugged on her shirt, and Sarah smiled at him.
“I can do this.” He curled his lip over his teeth and they stuck there. Then he laughed uncontrollably.
“Tommy, stop it!” Anne glared at him.
“Oh, it’s all right.” Sarah ruffled the boy’s hair. “I don’t mind.”
Glaring at her all the while, Anne grabbed her son by the shoulders and quickly ushered him outside.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Nathan’s mother didn’t answer. Without a word, she went back to baking.
“Is that little boy dead too?” she asked.
When she didn’t answer, she pressed. “I lost a child…Michaela. Is she here somewhere?”
“You shouldn’t ask such things.”
“Well, you certainly haven’t told me anything. How am I to know if I don’t ask?”
Anger began to build. She wasn’t going to sit here and be treated like she didn’t exist. She wasn’t here by her own choice.
She was about to explode, when a woman entered the cabin. Dressed in the same manner as Anne and Nathan’s mother, she had two young children with her.
“Jane.” Nathan’s mother said.
Jane. Nathan’s fiancé.
Jane stared at Sarah, then back at Nathan’s mother with large, questioning eyes.
She turned back to Sarah. “Who are you?”
“Sarah.”
“Nathan’s mission?”
“He returned with her,” Nathan’s mother informed. Her tone was mocking and cruel. “He takes claim to her.”
Sarah headed toward the door. She didn’t want to be around these people. She didn’t want to know anything about them or to be treated so coldly by them. All she wanted from this place was to find Michaela, and it was obvious she wasn’t going to find her here.
She opened the door and came face to face with Nathan. “You’re back.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I—“
Nathan was staring over her shoulder at Jane.
Ghost Of A Chance Page 17
