Agnes moved closer to him and gently placed her arm around him. At least one of us can give him a hug, Grace thought. The two women looked at each other as though trying to decide which should take the lead.
Finally, with a nod from Agnes, Grace said, “You know, sometimes the person we need to forgive is ourself, and for many people, that can be the toughest forgiveness of all.”
Thomas looked up at her through his tear-soaked eyes. “But I was a coward. I ran from battle. How do you forgive such an act? I mean, it wasn’t my first battle — not by a long shot. I’d been in close to a dozen others, some of them just skirmishes, but several full-blown offensives. But none of them had been like the one at Bull Run. I’d never seen so much killing on both sides. I just...” He couldn’t finish, the emotions taking over once more.
The two women sat with him for several minutes as he cried uncontrollably. When he’d finally calmed down a bit, Grace said, “There are two things I’ve learned about people over my fifty-plus years of life. One is that we are all complex beings with a whole set of characteristics within us that run the gamut. We can all love, and we can all hate. We can be magnanimous as well as petty. We all have the power within us to be courageous as well as cowardly. The other thing I’ve learned is that we all have a breaking point — a time when, no matter how much we’ve loved, it can turn to hate. During those times, being magnanimous can devolve to pettiness, and our courage isn’t enough to sustain us through one more battle. In those moments, we become a coward, at least for a time.”
Thomas slowly nodded, as he dried his eyes on his sleeve. “So how does this help me to forgive myself and move on?”
Agnes stepped in to answer his question. “I think what Grace is saying is that you simply failed to realize that your actions were consistent with being a human being. We all make mistakes, some that have dire consequences. In this case, your actions cost you your life. Don’t you think you’ve suffered enough without adding to the burden an afterlife of eternal guilt?”
Thomas nodded again. “Well, when you put it that way, it makes a lot of sense. I’m still not proud of what I did, but I guess I’ve paid my debt, so it’s time to move on.”
“That’s right,” Grace replied. “Remember, forgiveness doesn’t mean you condone what happened — either what someone else did to you or what you did yourself. It just means you’re willing to acknowledge it, so you can release it and move on.”
EVEN as she spoke, she noticed Thomas becoming more transparent than he had been just moments before. “Is it happening?” he asked, turning to Agnes.
“Yes, it is, Thomas. Say hi to Paulie-girl if you run into her.”
Thomas’ face broke out into a large smile that remained long after the rest of him had disappeared.
“He looked a bit like the Cheshire Cat there at the end,” Grace said, after the grin had finally evaporated.
“Hmmm?” Agnes asked.
“Oh nothing, just remembering one of my favorite children’s stories.”
The two women sat across from each other on the gazebo for several minutes, both lost in their thoughts. Finally, Agnes stood up. “Well, that was an extraordinary day's work,” she said. “You and I make a good team. I can’t remember ever helping two souls get on with their journey on the same day.”
Grace found the comment confusing and was about to ask Agnes about it, but the old woman was already walking away. “See you when I do,” Agnes said, over her shoulder.
Grace opened her mouth to ask her to stay just a minute longer, but before she could get the words out, she heard the phone ringing. That may be Albert, she thought, as she rushed to catch the phone before the answering machine picked up. Sure enough, it was the attorney’s mellow voice on the line.
“What a pleasant surprise hearing from one of my favorite people,” Albert said. Grace could see him in her mind’s eye, smiling from ear to ear as he often did. Albert seemed to have a knack for making everyone he came in contact with feel special. It had been instrumental in his growing one of the most successful law practices in the area. “What’s up? Did you inherit a fortune and need someone to manage the trust you want to set up?”
“Sorry, nothing quite so wonderful and profitable for you, I’m afraid.” Grace explained her situation, ending with, “...and she’s planning to have the gazebo moved off my property before the end of the week. I didn’t know what else to do but to call you.”
She felt the sting of tears building in her eyes. “This is the last straw, Albert. This place has had it in for me since I moved here over fifteen years ago. They’ve never understood me or what I do. I mean, I can stand being called a New Ager, even a witch, but now it’s become clear to me that they won’t stop until they drive me away...so maybe that’s just what I should do.”
“What’s that?” Albert asked. “Move away? Ridiculous. This is your home. It’s where you belong. It’s where you’ve made such a difference with so many people. Besides, I’m not sure this is a ‘them or those’ type of issue. I’m not saying that there’s not a strong contingent of, shall we call them, conservative Christian folks in the area, and yes, they can make it difficult for people like you, who dance to their own drummer, but this sounds more like a Magina thing. Tell you what, let me do some checking around. You just hold tight for a day or two. I’ll be back in touch. Okay?”
Grace nodded, then, realizing she was talking on the phone, replied, “Yes, that’s very kind of you, Albert. Thanks.” As she hung up the phone, she stood in the kitchen and reflected on what Albert had said. She had made a real difference with the people of Foster Flat — at least those who were willing to think outside-the-box of conventionality. Why, just this morning, she’d helped two restless souls find peace and forgiveness so they could move on. And despite her troubles, she fully intended to help Agnes do the same, and that would have to happen before the end of the week...before they came and took the gazebo away. “Tomorrow is your day, Agnes,” she muttered to herself, as she walked over to the sink to clean up her dishes.
BUT IT WASN’T UNTIL Thursday that Agnes reappeared. Grace was standing at her kitchen sink washing a few dishes left over from her evening meal the night before when she saw some movement around the gazebo out of the corner of her eye. Sure enough, Agnes had returned. Grace dried her hands on an old dish towel, prepared herself a cup of tea and strolled out to the gazebo.
“Good morning, Miss Agnes,” Grace said, as she neared the gazebo.
“Yes, it is,” Agnes replied. “Good morning to you, too.”
The two women sat across from each other on the gazebo for several minutes, both lost in their thoughts. Finally, Grace took a sip of her tea and cleared her throat. Since she couldn’t think of any tactful way to approach the subject, she decided the direct approach would have to do. Besides, she imagined Agnes would prefer directness.
“Agnes, mind if we talk about your situation?”
“Pardon?” the old lady asked, with a confused look on her face.
“Well, let’s face it. You’ve been ‘hanging out’ around the gazebo for quite a while. You said it yourself just the other day.”
“Yes?” Agnes replied, with the same look of confusion.
“Well, that must mean you’ve been hanging on to something for some time yourself. I’m here to help you move on.”
Agnes smiled at the comment, began to chuckle, then escalated to a laugh that continued to swell to the point it looked like the old lady might fall over in an uncontrollable fit of hilarity.
“What’s so funny? Grace asked, when the laughter finally quieted down to a few last giggles.
“Oh, nothing. What you said was just so sweet,” Agnes said, “and so utterly wrong. You see, I’m the custodian of this particular resting spot. I did all my completion and forgiveness work decades ago, though you’re right, I had my share to work through. After I finally crossed over, I was eventually invited to come back as a custodian. I’ve been manning this post ever since.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” Grace replied, her face growing a little red from embarrassment.
“Of course you didn’t. How could you? No, I’m here to help you.”
GRACE sat with a stunned look on her face for several seconds as Agnes’s proclamation slowly sank in. Finally she asked, “Me? You’re here to help me? But I’m not ready to cross over. I’m healthy as a horse.”
Agnes chuckled again, as she wiped the tears from her eyes left over from her laughing fit. “No, no, don’t get me wrong. As far as I know, you have years to go before you’ll be taking that journey. No, sometimes we’re sent to help not only lost or restless spirits who are trying to cross over, but those who also need some help before their time.”
“And that would be me?” Grace asked.
“That would be you,” Agnes replied, nodding.
“But I don’t have anything in particular that I need to forgive,” Grace started, but even as she said it, she suspected it wasn’t entirely true. “Well, at least I’m not sure what is so heavy-duty that it would require a visitation from the beyond.” She smiled at Agnes.
“Really?” Agnes asked, smiling back.
“Yes, really,” Grace replied, with a bit of irritation. “I’m fine, really. I haven’t a lot of friends, that’s true, but I’m okay with that. In fact, I kinda like it that way. So, there’s nothing much I need help with.”
The two women sat across from each other as Grace concentrated on her tea. Finally, Agnes cleared her throat before asking, “So when are you planning to move?”
“What? How? Have you been eavesdropping on my phone conversations?” Grace felt her face turning red, as much from anger at her privacy being invaded as from embarrassment that Agnes knew her secret plans to leave Foster Flat.
“Let’s just say we spirits have our ways of knowing things. Of course, how I know isn’t the issue, is it? The fact that you’re considering tucking your tail and running away from the town that has been your home for over fifteen years, even though you don’t want to move again, is. Could it be that there’s something there that you’re incomplete about?”
Grace stared down into her cup of tea, unsure how to answer the question. When she didn’t answer, Agnes continued, “Can I tell you a little story?”
Grace nodded. “I guess.”
“Once there was an old man who maintained a coffee shop on the edge of a small town. He was often the first person a newcomer would see as they looked around the town.
One day, a young man came into the coffee shop and struck up a conversation with the proprietor. “I’m thinking of moving to this area, and I’m wondering what the people are like here.”
To which the man asked in return, “Well, sonny, tell me what the people are like where you’re living now.”
“Oh, they’re quite nice, overall. Friendly and neighborly.”
“Well, I think you’ll find our villagers to be just as nice and friendly,” the old man replied.
A few days later, another newcomer walked into his coffee shop. After placing her order, she asked a similar question, “What are the people around here like?”
“What are the people like where you’re living now?” he asked.
“Oh, they’re mean and hateful. They’ll hardly give you the time of day. That’s why I’m thinking of moving.”
“Well, I suspect you’ll find the folks in this area to be much the same,” the old man replied.
Grace took a sip from her teacup before placing it on the bench next to her. “So, you’re saying it’s my fault that the people in this area are treating me so mean?”
“No, not your fault, just your perception...one that’s built up over time,” Agnes replied. “Oh, I’m not saying some people haven’t treated you unfairly, even hatefully in a few instances. That’s part of human nature. I am suggesting that when we don’t regularly do our completion and forgiveness work, those issues build up over time and begin to color our view of the world in general.”
“So, you don’t think I should move?” Grace asked.
“It’s not about whether you move or not. I’m not a real estate agent, nor do I represent any visitor’s center,” Agnes replied. “I’m here to help you be complete with the past, so moving or not moving becomes a true choice you can make freely, rather than a decision that you may regret for years to come.”
Grace turned to look at Agnes, who promptly disappeared from view. She turned back and stared at her teacup, and Agnes reappeared in her peripheral vision. “I don’t understand. What’s the difference?”
Agnes continued to smile. “Ever stop to think about where the word, ‘decide’ comes from?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Think about other words that are similar — words like homicide, suicide, genocide. What meaning do they have in common?”
A look of recognition grew on Grace’s face. “Oh, I get it. They’re all about death.”
“Right,” Agnes replied. So, when you make a decision, you do so by ‘killing off’ the other options first, which is what you’ve done with your plans to move away.”
“Yeah, move away before they kill me off,” Grace quipped.
Agnes chuckled. “So, who’s to say it won’t be the same the next place you move to?”
Grace thought about the question. “Well, if there’s any truth to your story, if I don’t let go of what’s happened here, that’s exactly what will happen. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Pretty much.”
“But, if I go ahead and get complete with my past here, then that will pave the way for me to make a true choice, rather than a decision?”
“You’ve got it,” Agnes replied.
“But how do I do that?”
Agnes stood up as though she were about to leave, but then turned back to Grace. “You might start by forgiving Magina for all her transgressions. Then, stand up to Magina, and then take a stand to keep what’s rightfully yours.” And with that, Agnes faded from view.
THAT evening Grace sat down and wrote out all the “transgressions” she could remember that Magina had done to her. As she did so, she recalled a number of times she’d behaved badly in an effort to get back at Magina. The two lists were long, well over a page each. She also noticed that her second list, the one with her retaliations, was nearly as long as the first.
Well, she thought, it’s quite obvious from this that Magina and I have been waging a cold war pretty much since I first moved here. Interesting.
After completing the lists, she lit a candle and sat down on her meditation cushion. Closing her eyes, she slowly guided herself through a forgiveness exercise that she’d used with several of her clients through the years. Item-by-item, step-by-step, she forgave Magina and herself for everything on the lists, then added a couple others that she’d just remembered. When she was done, she slowly opened her eyes and took a couple cleansing breaths.
She picked up the two lists and placed a corner of each of them into the candle flame. When they both caught fire, she tossed them in the empty metal trash can she’d placed beside her for this purpose.
She closed her eyes again and said a silent prayer, asking for forgiveness for Magina as well as for herself. As she finished the prayer, she felt a heavy burden lift from her heart, and the tears flowed freely from her eyes.
As she opened her eyes, she remembered Agnes’s final words to her. It was now time to take a stand for what was rightfully hers.
THE next morning dawned bright, brisk and beautiful. “Just another beautiful day in paradise,” Grace said, as she finished washing up the morning dishes.
She walked into her office to finish typing up the invoice she’d been preparing. After printing it out, she folded it and placed it in her purse, called the cab company, then walked into her bedroom to dress for her trip to town.
As she finished dressing, she reached into her drawer where she kept her collection of scarves and placed her favorite purple one around her
neck. For some reason, this particular scarf always gave her a shot of confidence, and even though she felt energetic and more like herself than she had in years, she figured every little bit would help.
Hearing the beep of the cab’s horn, she took one final indirect look at herself in the mirror, liked what she could see of herself in her acutely developed peripheral vision, then strolled out the door, purse in hand.
Freddy, the cab driver, waited for her next to the opened door. Since she didn’t drive anymore, she had to call upon the cab company fairly often and always made it a point to ask for Freddy.
“Good morning, Miss Grace. My, don’t you look nice this fine day,” Freddy said, as he waved his arm towards the cab with a flourish that reminded Grace of a knight bowing to his lady-in-waiting.
“Why, thank you, Freddy. That’s very nice of you. I’m feeling quite fine as well,” she replied, as she climbed into the cab’s back seat.
“And where will it be to today?” Freddy asked, after he took his place behind the wheel.
“To City Hall,” Grace replied.
Freddy turned in his seat to look at her. “Did you say City Hall?” he asked, with a confused look on his face.
“That’s right — City Hall. I have an account to settle.”
Arriving at the modest government building, Grace paid for her fare, leaving Freddie an even more generous tip than usual, then strolled into the newly renovated structure and down the hall to the town Council’s office. Without bothering to knock, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and entered.
“I’m here to see Council member Magina Jackson,” she announced to the receptionist.
“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked back without looking up from the work she was doing.
Grace knew exactly which office was Magina's, so without bothering to answer the question, she walked briskly to the door and had it opened before the receptionist realized what she was doing.
Fantastic Fables of Foster Flat Page 13
