by Mary Ramsey
“Uh, yeah,” I said with a forced smile. This was not normal. Was this even Nate? “I’m just going to say goodbye to Bobby first.”
“Oh, ok. I’ll meet you in the car, or by the car anyway.”
I nodded, trying to remain calm. As soon as Nate was out the door, I ran to Bobby. Although no longer by the carts, Bobby wasn’t hard to find. “What’s happening where are we?”
Bobby had been standing at the register, collecting unwanted items to put on the shelf. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been here forever, but I know we haven’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair. We started to walk towards a wall of DVDs. “I don’t think anything here is real.”
As he started to place a few movies back into their alphabetical locations, I couldn’t help but notice the titles. They all looked like actual movies but with one major change; Harry Potter was a Hispanic female, James Bond was a cartoon with a talking cat, among others.
I found them uniquely intriguing in their own ways. “Well, what’s real anyway?” I said with a forced smile. “Are you happy here?”
Bobby glanced at me with a chuckle. “Did you seriously ask if I was happy stocking shelves at a Walmart?”
“How about ‘content’? Are you content?”
“I’m not depressed or suicidal if that’s what you’re asking.” With the DVDs completed, Bobby started to walk towards the women’s clothing department. “It’s not a horrible existence, especially for Hell.”
“Why do you think this is hell?” I asked, looking at the display of summer clothing.
“Because we’re dead. We fought so hard, only for our shitty lives to be yanked away, like some kind of trap door.” He put a shirt back on a hanger and folded a pair of jeans before turning to me. “And now this is our prize; our eternity. At least you have Nate. That’s what you always wanted.”
“But what do you want?”
Bobby sighed. “It’s difficult to want for anything when you never had anything. I never had a family or true love, or anything that I would run headfirst into the fires of Hell for.”
“Ok.” I really wished he wasn’t so confident about this place being the actual ‘fire-and-brimstone’ Hell.
Bobby took out the next items, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap. “Plus you only get to choose for yourself. My spirit has free will, so if you see a new cart-guy next time you come here, that’s why.” He headed towards the health and beauty section, which luckily took us back in the direction of the entrance.
“I understand, but if this is a choice, what’s option B?”
“I think the way all this works is you need to completely say no to option A before you get to see option B.” He finished his basket of items and walked me to the door.
I honestly hoped he was wrong. “I’m not ready to do that.”
“I know. But I think I am.” Bobby looked up at the sunny sky. “You’ve had a family, love, peace, even happiness. You’re in more of a position to know what you truly want.” He placed his hand upon my shoulder. “You should get going.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I looked at the truck. I couldn’t see Nate from where I stood.
“Ask Nate to drive you to the beach.”
“The beach, in Mississippi?” Mississippi had some decent beaches but nothing special, as far as I could remember. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot: this isn’t the real Mississippi, this is the underworld.
“I’ve never seen the ocean here, but I kinda want to go.” With a comforting half-hug, Bobby turned around, back into the store.
As I made my way to the truck, I couldn’t help but think about his final words. Bobby was going to leave, that much was certain. I truly hoped he found his ocean.
“I’m ready,” I said, looking around. I was expecting to have to help Nate put his chair in the truck bed. But somehow, he had done it all on his own.
“Where to, babe?” Nate asked from the driver’s seat.
“Can we hit the beach?” I put my feet up as he drove.
“Sounds good.”
We passed miles of dead, desolate farmland and boarded-up houses. The world seemed to be empty, abandoned. It was creepy, but it was all ours. I reached for my phone, taking photo after photo. The bizarre scenery evolved to a rocky coastline until we reached the beach.
“How’s this spot?” he asked, pulling into a parking space.
The world seemed to move in slow-motion, my vision flickering in and out of focus. “It’s beautiful.” The beach itself was too rocky to set foot on, but the view was to die for. I scooted from my seat onto my husband’s lap. “Say selfie!” I lifted my phone and snapped a pic.
“You’re such a dork.” Nate lifted the phone, taking a second pic as he kissed me. “That’s what I love about you.”
As I sat with Nate looking out at the beach, my mind started to drift. “Do you know Annie Sugarland?”
“The terrorist?” Nate replied.
I was not expecting such a direct answer. “Um, yeah, I guess so.”
“Last I heard she fled to Venezuela.”
“Heard from who?” Becca? Did he have military connections?
“The story was on ‘America’s Most Wanted’ a few weeks back. They did a special on how she was the first female ever to grace the FBI’s most-wanted list.”
“Oh.” My voice went silent. While I was grateful my brother Bobby was content, it seemed like Annie was in actual Hell.
“I think she’s kind of a bad-ass.”
“Really?”
“I mean, I would if she didn’t go out of her way to target American military installations. Those places are full of cocky fucks with their collective heads up their asses, but there’s always the issue of collateral damage; some innocent kid fresh out of high school, just trying to get some money for college.”
“Oh, I totally agree. There are good and bad people in all walks of life. So, when it comes to acts of political terrorism, the end doesn’t always justify the means. But since Annie Sugarland is in Venezuela, that means she’s retired, right?”
“Far as I know. There’s a reason why it’s a non-extradition country. We have no strong hold over there.”
“Yeah.” The idea made me smile. Maybe she was sitting on a beach somewhere looking at the same blue sky. “Do you think she’s happy?”
“Probably, Venezuela’s a beautiful place. Not that I’ve ever been there,” Nate said with a sexy smirk.
“You’ve been to Venezuela?”
“No, of course not. I’ve never went on a spring-break drinking binge in a place with the hottest women in the world. I’m a good Christian boy.” Nate pressed his palms together, pretending to be an angel.
I gave Nate a playful shove. But I knew he was right. If Annie existed in this world, she would have found a way to be happy. I smiled as I looked out at the ocean. I could feel Nate holding my hand.
This caused my mind to drift to another place; what about Lola? Was my daughter alive? No, in this world she wasn’t my daughter. “Nate?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“What ever happened to your ex-wife?”
Nate’s smile faded. “I stalked her online for a while. Last I read, she got married to the guy she cheated with.”
“The doctor from the veterans’ hospital?”
Nate nodded. “I heard they moved to Austin, and she had a baby girl. Good for her, I guess.” He softly squeezed my hand.
“Do you want kids?”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, you know that.”
I rested in Nate’s arms, feeling the warmth of his body, the strength of his heart. “How far back does the seat go?”
“You’re serious?”
“Always.” With his shirt already open, I kissed his slender collarbone.
Nate reached for my hand, sucking my fingers before cupping my face. It was then I realized how little I’d been wearing. It almost made me embarrassed for having gone out in public wearing just an oversized sleep shirt.
We made lo
ve for what was only the second time, in my memory. But this was so different. There was no fear, no pain. Nate moved his warm hands under my shirt, caressing my skin. “Could you be happy here?”
I said the only thing I could. “Yes.” Looking into his dark blue eyes, the world froze. “I-I want to be here. I want to be with you.”
The world went black, as if someone had just turned off the sun. I nervously looked at Nate. He opened the door, and with us both adjusting our clothes we took our first steps into the newly formed night sky.
“Yes! Score one for Lilith!” said a female voice. It was so far away I could barely hear it.
But once I turned, it was clear. Becca, in her young, beautiful form, was standing with Leo. Under the light of the moon, the ocean looked like a stage. And the way they were posed reminded me of the ending of a late-nineties fighting game. Becca was gleefully happy, confident, while Leo was simply turned away.
I was suddenly scared. Had I made the wrong choice? I kissed Nate’s cheek, searching his eyes for comfort.
Nate patted my back, nervously rubbing my shoulder. “It’s going to be alright. You just have to believe that.”
“Ok.” I closed my eyes to focus my mind in prayer. I needed advice; I needed answers. “Leo? Are you there?”
I felt a rush of cold. “Please, I’m so sorry.”
I felt a hand lift my face. The fingers were long, elegant. I wanted so badly for it to be Leo, but I would not have been surprised if it was Becca. “Leo, is that you?”
I opened my eyes to see, well, nothing. What?
Then I felt the source of the cold. Leo took a single step in my direction. His massive wings flapped a single time, like curtains on a massive stage.
I blinked the wind from my eyes, rubbing them. “Ow!” When I opened my eyes, Leo was standing right in front of me.
He tilted his head like an owl, staring at me with intensity. Leo looked pissed.
“Did I choose poorly?” I was mentally preparing myself to get struck by lightning.
Leo sighed. “You chose what was in your heart. God gave all creatures free will; it’s not my place to hand down judgment.”
“So, you are disappointed.”
Leo pressed his finger to his chin in thought. “I’m disappointed you didn’t even want to see what I had to show you.”
Now I really felt bad. “Can you at least give me a hint?”
Leo laughed. “Not really.” He paused, pursing his lips in deep thought. “But it would have been different.”
Nate reached out and shook Leo’s hand. “Hey, man.” Their friendliness seemed a little bit creepy, but that was not where my mind was primarily focused. Nate still had a visible chemo port, but his body looked stronger. He was no longer emaciated, and he even seemed a little taller.
Wait a second, this feels a little too familiar.
Leo smiled. “Hey yourself. You’re looking good, Adam.”
What in the holy name of fuck—? I turned to the man I had been making love to just moments before. “Are you Nate or Adam?”
Leo placed his hand upon my shoulder. “Nate Greyson and Adam Severgine are one and the same.”
“Um, no. I don’t think so.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t be serious. I mean, unless they’re from alternate realities.” Actually, considering everything I’d been through, that sounded pretty accurate.
“Nate, Adam, your father, and thousands of others all share the same fractured soul,” Leo explained. “It’s all we can do as angels to try to pick up the pieces.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The man that you have pledged your love to is...”
“Nate?” The word slipped out of my mouth before I realized how dumb I sounded.
“Incomplete.”
That I understood.
Becca appeared at Leo’s side with the grace and confidence of a comic-book villain. “Too bad, so sad.” With her high-school girl voice, she reminded me of a flower-child Marilyn Monroe, crossed with Harley Quinn, the infamous DC Comics character.
Leo chuckled and rolled his eyes. “The rivalry between angels and witches has been going on for centuries. Sometimes we win, sometimes you win; history has it all written down.”
“Yeah,” Becca said with a smirk. “We’re going to keep playing this game until the earth gets swallowed up by the sun.” She twirled a lock of her hair like a beauty queen or a Barbie doll. “Then we’re going to start a new religion to fight over the souls of aliens and zombies.”
Leo turned to her, his hair shimmering like ocean waves. “But zombie don’t have souls.”
“Ok, fine, we can fight over the souls of the rock-people who became animated after the nuclear apocalypse.” Becca boosted herself up, taking a seat in the bed of our truck. She was now looking down on all of us. ”But thanks to you, the soul of the original Adam is a little closer to becoming whole.”
“Becoming whole,” I repeated. I understood. I was a witch. I was a daughter of Lilith. This place was my Heaven.
Leo approached Becca and shook her hand. “I’ll see you at the next one.”
“You bet your ass, you will.”
Leo turned to Adam/Nate, giving him a half hug, sandwiching me in the middle. “I don’t have any answers for you, no happily ever after. You’ll still have to write your own stories here. I believe in both of you.” Leo took a step backward, then another, his wings flapping in the wind.
I fully expected him to fly away like a stereotypical angel, but instead, he teleported, vanishing into a dot of light.
Becca jumped down from the truck. “Well, you two have fun.”
“Thanks.” I guess.
Was this the end? The end of one story is the beginning of another.
That’s just how the universe works, right?
Epilogue, Alternate Realit
With trembling hands, I picked up the phone the same as I always did. “Barbara-Ann Mercer for Master Sergeant Kent Mercer.”
“Relation to the patient?”
“Wife,” I replied in my sweetest tone.
I walked past the nurse’s station, straight to my husband’s room, making sure to slam the door.
On the flight over, I read the unclassified summary of the events. Apparently, a bomb that went off next to where my husband’s squadron was camped. In an act of heroism, he took a majority of the blow. He now had a chunk of metal in his brain and would likely never walk again. (That’s what it said anyway.) From his classified place of injury, he’d been airlifted to the American Army base in Landstuhl. This was standard for all critically injured deployed personnel. Since there was little chance of survival, I was flown on the government’s dime. Little did they know. It had now been over six months, and he was still alive.
“Barbie girl?” My big, strong master sergeant broke his neck just below the base of his skull. He lost all feeling below the clavicle, including the use of his chest muscles, making breathing difficult. He wasn’t even supposed to be able to speak. He turned his head, smiling with his dreamy blue eyes. “Earth to Miss Barbara-Ann? You zoned out again?”
“I’m just lost in thought. How are you doing today?”
His hands trembled. Fingers that were supposed to be completely paralyzed were reaching for me. Maybe that was the power of love; for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. “I could use some of your special attention.”
My husband had a feeding tube in his stomach, but he insisted on not getting a catheter or a colostomy. If I was willing to take on the responsibility of cleaning him up (and sign an affidavit to that effect), the staff would allow him the freedom and mobility of pissing and shitting in an adult diaper.
The first time I had to get him out of bed for a shower I had been genuinely nervous. He had a wheelchair that could transition to a shower seat; I just needed to move his 5’10” frame. I’d expected his body to behave like a limp sack of flour or perhaps clay. But that was not the case; his arms could hold his weight. Ther
e was no doubt his body was in horrific pain. But somehow, his muscles were strong.
I lowered the bed and then the railing. My husband placed his hand on the side of the bed as if he was already preparing to lower himself into his chair. “I need to get you cleaned up first.”
He groaned, leaning his head back. “But I’ve been dreaming about you all day.”
“What’d you dream about?”
“You in just a pair of black heels.” In the nude, he maneuvered himself off the bed, into his chair. His breathing was labored, but as soon as I reconnected the oxygen to a mobile tank, he seemed stable enough. He couldn’t move the wheelchair on his own since it had no mechanical components.
I rolled him to the bathroom. I turned on the water, making sure it was a suitable temperature before moving his chair into place. I had the blessing of his medical team to engage in sexual touch. It worked so well, in fact, I was currently three months pregnant with our first child.
Avoiding the water proved futile, so I leaned back, letting the shower soak my hair. We made love, and with every thrust, every movement, I felt human; it was the same passion, emotion. At the peak of my climax, I could feel his hand on my thigh. His fingers were moving, gripping with a noticeable amount of pressure. I couldn’t help but laugh. They were wrong; the doctors, the medics, even those up his chain of command, they were wrong about my husband, and somehow, we’d prove it.
I could feel his every muscle tense. My husband’s body was so tight, strong. His heart was pounding as he gasped for breath. I could feel the raw energy of his very soul. Kent had lost weight and was often very sick, but he was still here, and he was all mine.
At the end of the day, I went home to my base-hotel room. I would have loved to stay with my husband, sleeping on a cot or even a chair. But I was always told no since he wasn’t a minor; hospital policy or whatever. The hospital was a home away from home, as long as he held on.
The next day I awoke at my usual time and made my usual walk to the hospital. The moment I touched the doors, my stomach sank. It was like my soul could feel the negative energy. I ran past the elevator, up the stairs to the ward.
I entered the room to an empty bed. My heart nearly stopped. I cupped my hands over my face as I fell to my knees. I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was large, male, and wore a rubber glove.
