chapter 13
nature’s tranquility
Chip and Sara arrived back at the campground. It had become busier while they were away. Campers filled the front end of the park. Visitors grilled hot dogs and hamburgers, and the air smelled of campfire and charcoal. Several children played catch, and dogs happily trotted about.
As Chip followed the gravel road to the back of the park, he thought about Sara’s mood swings and intense emotions. He wished he could take away her pain and erase the scars and hurt of the past.
They soon arrived at the privacy of their campsite. Chip led Sara to a wooden park bench, and they sat down. He watched Sara intently as she took in a deep breath of air. Her shoulders seemed to relax a little. He could tell she was looking forward to spending the afternoon with him. And there was no place else he’d rather be. In the short time they had known each other, Chip had fallen head over heels in love with her. He just wished he could get through to her and convince her that his beliefs were not crazy, but in fact the truth. Maybe the more time she spent with him, the more she would realize how much more there was to life than she had ever known. Sara needed that assurance. She needed hope. She also deserved to enjoy herself, and Chip was determined to help her have a good time. He had a wonderful day planned out for them, full of peaceful activities that would help Sara connect to nature and to him.
First, he picked out a nice, quiet spot along the back edge of one of Herrick Recreation Area’s three fishing ponds. He thought Sara might enjoy fishing with him. A few scattered tents stood in the area, but there wasn’t much activity. The two of them were mostly alone, nestled comfortably amid nature’s tranquility. Many tall oak, maple, and fir trees surrounded the pond and offered a screen of privacy. Birds coasted by and musically called overhead, and they could occasionally hear the faint rustle of tiny nearby rabbits and squirrels scurrying about. It was a serene and peaceful setting—the perfect escape for Sara’s troubled mind.
As they began their fishing excursion, Chip was surprised that Sara was actually quite good at it. She easily caught several species of fish, including largemouth bass, yellow perch, northern pike, and rainbow trout. Somehow she could sense where the fish would be before she cast her fly, and she caught way more fish than Chip did. He enjoyed watching her face light up every time she felt a pull on her rod. There was definitely a big change in Sara as she immersed herself in the beauty of her natural surroundings. It was as if a quiet veil of peace and stillness had fallen over her, protecting her from the darkness that so often invaded her soul. Chip was certain he was seeing the real Sara, a gentle, kindhearted woman with a great capacity for love and a quiet strength that could easily transform the world around her.
A child’s laugh brought their attention away from the pond and the fish that Sara had just reeled in. She smiled affectionately as a small boy and his father approached them. “Fishy,” the boy said, pointing excitedly. Then he bolted away from his dad and dove right into Sara’s arms. He reached out and gently pet the fish.
“I’m sorry,” the father said, embarrassed, trying to lift the child off of Sara. “He’s usually not like this. He’s very shy and cautious around strangers. I really don’t know what got into him.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine,” Sara said calmly. She patted the child on the top of his floppy brown hair. “What’s your name?”
“Boone. Did you catch that fish all by yourself?”
“Well, hello, Boone,” she said sweetly. “Yes, I did. Pretty cool, huh? This is my boyfriend, Chip. And my name is Sara.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw you last night. In my dream. You save people.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised. “You must be mistaken. I don’t save people. But you’re too cute.”
“You saved my daddy.” His big brown eyes looked at her admiringly, and he seemed very confident that Sara had saved his father. Chip found it rather unusual but quite entertaining.
“No, Boone. I don’t even know your daddy,” Sara insisted. “I’m quite sure you must have dreamed about someone else.”
“Nope,” he insisted, shaking his head. “It was you. I saw you. I know I did.”
“He likes superheroes,” his father explained with a chuckle. “Must think you’re Wonder Woman or Supergirl or something. I’m Max, by the way.”
Max warmly extended his hand, and both Sara and Chip shook it. Max appeared to be in his midthirties, with the same floppy brown hair as his son. It was slightly long in the back, and the man wore a Detroit Tigers baseball cap, faded Levi jeans, and a navy-blue T-shirt. He was friendly, but much more serious than his playful, curious son.
“Why do you want to die?” Boone asked sadly, looking right at Sara.
“Boone. That’s enough. Why would you say something like that?” Max scolded.
Chip glanced at Sara as she uncomfortably shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her face was pale and expressionless. Chip was certain this little boy must have some psychic ability. How else would he know that Sara was suicidal?
“Sorry, Daddy,” Boone said.
“It’s okay, son,” Max said, patting his son’s shoulder. “But we don’t says things like that to people, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sara was still quiet. She seemed stunned by the little boy’s words.
“Well, we better go now,” said Max. “It was nice meeting you two. Enjoy yourselves.”
“Thanks. You too,” Chip answered for both of them. He put his arm around Sara, and she managed a weak smile.
“Bye, Sara. I like well-woh ribbons,” Boone announced. He leaned over and gave her a big hug. He then skipped off and waved as he followed his father.
Yellow ribbons? Chip thought. Where did that come from? He pondered the ribbon Connor had placed in his hand and was more certain than ever that it meant he had to save Sara from an untimely demise. At least she was safe here with him. Being in nature was good for her body, mind, and soul.
“He was cute,” Chip said. He took Sara’s hand in his and admired the large supply of fish his girlfriend had caught.
“Yes,” Sara agreed, her face brightening slightly.
“He seemed very intelligent and insightful,” Chip added. “That was odd about the yellow ribbons, too.”
“Yes, it was,” said Sara, looking uneasy.
“So are you ready to pack up our fishing gear? I think I’d like to take a walk with you.”
“Okay,” Sara said. She still seemed bothered, but Chip didn’t want to further upset her by asking too many questions. He decided it was best to just go about their day for now. Later, when Sara felt more comfortable, he could bring up the subject.
They gathered their supplies and then headed back to Chip’s car at their campsite. Once the gear was loaded into the back of Chip’s blue Ford F-150, he took Sara’s hand, and they headed for the trails.
Their walk was a refreshing mix of contradictions—energizing yet calming, quiet yet full of life. Minutes turned into hours, and Chip couldn’t believe how quickly time passed while relishing Sara’s company.
They shared stories of childhood and young ambitions. Little by little, Sara began to let down her guard again and open up to him. She seemed really interested in hearing all about his paranormal experiences. Chip told Sara more about his early visits with his guardian angel, Connor. She looked especially mesmerized as Chip described his trips to Heaven in his dreams. He spoke of a world with unimaginable beauty, vivid colors, and universal love. He reluctantly admitted that Connor had been the one to teach him how to fish, hoping to persuade Sara of the truth of an afterlife. But instead of looking intrigued, Sara scrunched up her face in puzzlement.
“That’s odd,” she said. “How can a dead person teach you to fish? You must have seen how to do it on television or something.”
“Nope,” Chip insisted. “Connor was right there in my dream, providing lots of instruction. It felt so real. Even my mom was shocked when she saw how well I could fish aft
erward. Connor is an excellent teacher. He’s always taught me well.”
“If you say so,” said Sara with a shrug.
“I know you don’t believe this, Sara,” he said. “But it’s the truth. The dead aren’t really dead at all, and they have a lot to teach us.”
Sara’s calm demeanor vanished. Her face turned red, and she stomped her foot like a disappointed child. “Then why hasn’t my mother taught me anything?” she snapped. “She described a world just like the one you speak of. She told me she could communicate with spirits—and yet she’s done nothing to teach me how to do it or convince me of an afterlife.”
“She’s done more than you know,” Chip protested. “You’re just too stubborn and angry to see it. Open your eyes, Sara. Or better yet, open your heart. It’s all there right in front of you.”
“I’m not angry,” Sara protested.
“You can’t fool me, Sara,” he said. “I’m a therapist, remember? You’re angry your mother left you. You’re angry about the disturbing visions. I get that. What I don’t understand is why you want to kill yourself. You’re smart, beautiful, and kind. And now you have me. You could turn your life around if you only gave yourself a chance.”
“I never said I wanted to kill myself.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said. “It’s written all over your face. I can see your pain. I can see your fear. I can see your struggles. It’s so obvious that even that little boy could see it. It doesn’t have to be this way, Sara. Dammit, let me help you.”
Sara looked away, shifting her gaze to the trees that surrounded their path. “You do help me,” she said softly, stopping to face him. She seemed much calmer and more composed now. She gently brushed her hand against his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. Chip felt a wave of love and compassion come over him.
“When I’m with you, I feel safe,” she continued. “I even allow myself to believe that maybe I have a chance at a better life, a happier life.”
“You do, Sara.”
He stroked her hair and leaned in to kiss her. Sara melted in his arms. For a moment, time stood still. All that mattered was the present. They continued to kiss until Sara pulled away from him.
Her face turned serious and solemn again. Chip hated when she looked like that. She took a deep breath and sighed.
“It’s so frustrating,” she said. “Just when everything seems okay, death sinks its claws into me again. It pulls me with an overwhelming force that’s impossible to resist. The pain I feel is so excruciating… so unbearable… that nothing and no one can seem to penetrate it. I can’t live with that, Chip.”
“Then don’t,” he said. “Let it go. You’re stronger than it is.”
“Nothing is stronger than death,” insisted Sara.
“Love is,” he replied.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He wasn’t about to let her go. “I love you, Sara. The only question you have to ask yourself is how much do you love me? Are you willing to risk everything to escape your pain? Do you want to give up your chance at happiness and love? Is killing yourself worth that?”
“I can’t love you the way you want me to, Chip,” she admitted. “That would mean surrendering myself to the unknown.”
“And killing yourself isn’t?”
“What’s so unknown about death? When you’re dead, you’re gone. All of the pain dies along with you. It’s over. No more suffering. No more anything.”
“Well, if you believe that, Sara, then that would mean our love would die, too.”
“No, that’s different,” she said. “Love doesn’t just die. You can’t make that go away. Even after someone is gone. It doesn’t just vanish into thin air.”
“Then love is eternal?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, not eternal. Nothing’s eternal. Love is just always there, whether the person is or not.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Sara,” he said. “If love is always there and never dies, then it is indeed eternal. And if love is eternal, then why not us? Why not life?”
“Stop it. You’re confusing me.”
“Sorry, I’m not trying to confuse you,” Chip apologized. “Just trying to get you to see the bigger picture.”
“But what if there is no bigger picture?” Sara asked. “What if this life is all there is?”
“All the more reason to make the most of it and live life to the fullest,” he answered. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Just you and me. Let’s focus on the here and now for a while. C’mon. Let’s walk some more.”
They continued to trek through the trails, enjoying the coolness of the shade from the large oak and pine trees and the magical flickering of the sun’s late-day rays filtering through the leaves. Sara was very quiet now, and Chip knew he had gotten her thinking. Maybe a small part of what he had said was finally getting through to her. Tonight he would continue the lessons. He would teach her all about the bridge of illumination, the gateway to the afterlife. Once Sara was able to cross that bridge and see the beauty of the world beyond for herself, she would know without a doubt that the afterlife existed.
Chip felt a rumble in his stomach. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
“Let’s go back to the campsite and cook up some fish. The sun will be setting soon, and I want to be sitting on the beach with you when it does.”
“Sounds great,” she agreed. “I wish life could always be this way, so simple and carefree.”
“Remember, don’t focus on what comes next,” Chip said. “Just concentrate on the present moment. Live for now, Sara. Savor it all.”
She gave him a uncertain look. “You make it sound so easy.”
“What’s so hard about enjoying yourself? You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” She smiled warmly. “How could I not enjoy myself when I’m with you?”
“Well, that’s a start,” he said. “Now whatever you do, don’t think. Just feel. Observe. Take everything in.”
Sara closed her eyes for a moment and took in a big, deep breath of the fresh summer air. “That’s it,” said Chip approvingly. “Just breathe. Just be. There’s nothing else you need to do.”
He put his arm around her, and they strolled hand in hand back to their campsite for dinner.
***
The fish was delicious, and Chip couldn’t believe he had made it himself. He remembered when he visited the spirit world in his dreams. Connor had cooked some tasty fish. They sat together with Connor’s golden retriever, Buddy, and just enjoyed Heaven’s unspoiled beauty. Connor had taught him a lot about love, life, and nature. In some ways, Chip was very much like him. Except for one thing: he would never let Sara walk away from him. He would never move halfway across the world without her, like Connor had done to Celeste. Connor really screwed up on that one. Chip couldn’t imagine a life away from Sara. Now that he had found her, he wasn’t about to let her get away.
The sun dimmed and slowly sunk into the horizon. The orangey-golden glow cast captivating shadows on the world beneath it.
“Ready to go to the beach?” he asked.
“I would love to.”
They walked hand in hand toward the water. The evening air was refreshing, and in the lingering light from the sunset, Sara was more beautiful and radiant than ever.
Chip sat down in the soft sand and helped Sara into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled his face into the side of her neck. He planted gentle kisses on her neck and breathed in her essence. They sat together in silence, watching the sun go down until it disappeared and left behind a quiet veil of darkness. All that remained was a comforting calmness and stillness.
“Let’s go start the campfire,” Chip suggested.
“Sounds good. I am getting a little chilly,” Sara admitted.
“Well, we can’t have that,” Chip said, winking. “Gotta warm you up.”
They rose from the spot they had been sitting
in and headed back. Chip gathered sticks and carefully arranged them. He then built a large, roaring campfire and grabbed a bag of marshmallows and two sticks. He and Sara sat together as they roasted their marshmallows and took turns kissing each other to remove the traces of stickiness on their lips. Sara giggled. She seemed happy and at ease. Chip was relieved. There was no sign of the dark cloud that often overshadowed her.
“I have a ghost story,” she said mysteriously in a creepy voice.
“I’m listening.”
“Early one dark morning, a little boy awoke with a feeling of doom. The house was quiet, and he could not find his mother anywhere. He woke up his dad, and they searched the house together. His mother was nowhere to be found. Deep in his heart, the little boy knew that his mother was dead.”
Chip felt a shiver run down his spine. He sat entranced by both Sara and the roaring campfire. The flames danced around erratically, as if responding to the story. Sara continued with a serious look on her face. Chip wondered if this was going where he thought it was.
“The house was so quiet,” she continued. “And the father was trying to reassure the boy that his mom was fine, although he was becoming very alarmed himself. And then… then… in the stillness of that dark morning… the doorbell rang.”
“Go on,” Chip said, tears forming in his eyes. Sara didn’t seem to notice.
“There on their doorstep was a police officer. He had come to deliver the sad news of the mother’s death. He said she had been run down by a madman. The father and son cried. They were devastated by their loss. They didn’t know what they would do without her. But the mother wasn’t really gone. The little boy could feel her. Her love for him was all around. And as he looked up into the sky, he saw—”
“Northern lights,” Chip interrupted.
“Hey, how did you know what I was going to say?”
“That’s no ghost story, Sara.”
“Yes, it is. I just made it up.”
“No, Sara, you didn’t,” he insisted. “That’s my story. That’s the story of my life. I’m the little boy.”
Sara's Soul Page 14
