by Laury Falter
In the afterlife, as on earth, much of the time I spent alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. On both planes, I watched people move about their business, holding conversations and interacting with others, while I handled my own duties and never really connected with them. Eran’s simple touch had emphasized the void in me that I didn’t know had been created.
We moved through several worlds until reaching a street on Knob Hill in San Francisco. Judging from the style of cars meandering down the hill through the fog and rain, it was sometime in the 1940s.
Tipper McNeal lived well in her chosen paradise - inside a large brownstone home decorated elaborately with artwork that rotated from one famous painting to another, disappearing instantly as another appeared in its place. She had a butler open the door for us. He disappeared after escorting us into the sitting room where we found an old woman, draped with a plush blanket, holding a cup of tea.
She motioned for us to sit and we did. Without speaking, she drew a circle on the coffee table between us and it was instantly filled with a tray holding tea cups in matching saucers and long, round cookies. Eran and I politely shook our heads as she offered them to us, so she drifted her hand over the tea set and it faded away.
“How can I help you, dear?” Her voice was soft and melodic, but jolted me. Not because I was surprised at the beauty of it but because I heard her words inside the back of my ears, like Battersbee’s had been. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. I couldn’t hear in my last life and when I came here I felt most comfortable using this way of speaking.”
I replied but not with spoken words. “That’s alright. I’ve done this once before.” I then smiled at her to show I was no longer startled. “I have a message for you…from your daughter.”
Tipper immediately sat up, eagerly asking, “How is she?”
“She seems to be doing well. In fact, she’s pregnant.”
Tipper drew in a breath and slowly placed a hand to her chest in surprise.
“She says she’s going to name her baby after you – Tipper - and that she misses you.”
Tears suddenly began to well up at the corner of her eyes but she blinked them back. “I was hoping so…I was hoping…”
I looked at Eran who was now glancing between Tipper and me, curiously. From his expression I judged that he knew something was going on but didn’t know exactly what. I’d fill him in later.
“Will you tell her that…” she placed a hand to her chest and breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, as emotion overwhelmed her. “Please tell her that nothing could have made me happier.”
“I will. And just so that she knows…believes that the message was delivered…could you provide some proof? Some piece of information that only she would know?”
Tipper thought for a moment, a smile stretching across her face. “Tell her that I hope she kept those stories she wrote as a child…the ones she secretly hid behind her bed.”
I made a mental note and said, “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
Her eyes widened. “I should be thanking you, dear. It was truly a wonderful surprise…and to be told by someone so important,” she said. Although I didn’t hear it, I saw her shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.
The last part of her sentence left me slightly confused and I didn’t want to leave her misguided, so I explained, “I think you have me confused with someone else.”
Tipper tilted her head to the side, puzzled. “Aren’t you the messenger?”
“I’m the one who delivers messages to those who have passed on…” I said slowly enunciating each word in my mind, wondering how she could mistake me for someone important.
“I thought so. I’ve heard about you before.”
“You’ve heard about me?” I asked, stunned.
“Of course.”
“From who?”
“Oh, well, several others. You seem surprised,” she noted.
“I am.” I had no idea.
“You have a special gift, even when compared to what we can do here,” she replied, moving her hand over her blanket and watching it change to a quilt.
“I guess everyone has special abilities,” I said, noticing that even the lint left by her previous blanket vanished from the couch.
“Some more special than others,” she replied, looking pensively at me.
A moment passed when neither of us spoke but simply stared at each other, she in a motherly way and me in uncomfortable shock.
Finally able to think straight again, I said, “I appreciate you telling me. No one ever has.”
“It was only a matter of time before someone did,” Tipper replied, smiling warmly.
When I stood, Eran followed.
“It was a pleasure to meet you both,” Tipper said, though this time she spoke out loud for Eran’s benefit. “You and your gentleman friend are welcome back any time.”
We thanked her and stepped outside the door, finding the rain had stopped. The sky was clear blue and the trees lining the street, which had been bare before, were now blossoming into thick bouquets of color.
“I’m not sure what was said in there,” Eran mentioned, confirming that the conversation had been a private one by Tipper’s choice, “but whatever it was, I think you made her more content.” He motioned to the now bloom-filled trees.
Pausing to watch them, I noted their beauty and glanced up to find Eran staring down at me in awe. I swelled with pride at that moment, knowing that I had impressed him – finally.
Basking in his admiration but not wanting to be obvious, I stated, “We should deliver the rest.”
He softly but firmly took hold of my elbow and escorted me a few steps. The city around us disappeared and was replaced with the Hall of Records.
“That was far faster than usual,” I muttered, already looking for the next scroll.
“What’s the usual?”
“Running…” I said, moving along the wall to the Q’s. “I can’t float but I have incredible strength so running is how I travel here.”
“It’s settled then,” he firmly stated. “I’ll stick around and help you with the rest of your deliveries.”
I was facing away from him so I allowed myself the freedom to smile at his decision. He cleared his throat awkwardly, as if he knew he’d made me happy, and launched into his new chore, asking for details about the next delivery.
We repeated the same process until all the messages were delivered: the two of us racing each other to the next scroll; Eran following me and helping to deliver the message; and Eran escorting me back to retrieve the next scroll. I had never had so much fun.
After delivering the last message, we stood anxiously in the middle of the hall, both knowing it was time for the last scroll…mine.
It was quiet as usual but this time I actually felt the breeze, flowing constantly through the hall, as the temperature dropped. As it continued to cool some, I wondered if Eran had done this purposely. If so, I was thankful, because it helped me overcome a sudden bout of nausea. How could anyone feel faint in the afterlife? I wondered. But there I stood, holding on to Eran’s stable, solid arm, not allowing myself to let go because I didn’t trust myself not to collapse.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked, watching me with a concerned expression.
“I-I think so.”
I drew in a deep breath and turned toward the wall. This time, there was no racing up it. I moved slowly, deliberately, as he floated beside me, still watching, still looking concerned.
And then he stopped.
We were in the B section, I noticed. He reached out and pulled a scroll from its pocket.
Billings, Montana.
“You’re a long way from home,” he stated, insinuating the distance from Louisiana to Montana.
“I never even knew I’d been there.”
He noticed I was trembling and asked dubiously, “Would you like me to do the honors?”
I stared at the scroll for a moment but reached out to take it.
> Then my hand slipped, and suddenly, I was falling.
The cool wind raced by me, the shelves becoming a blur.
All of a sudden, I felt Eran’s arms wrapping tightly around me, holding me securely to him. I felt our bodies intrinsically intertwining; my legs seemed to fuse with his and my chest pressed comfortably up against him. I enjoyed the warmth and safety his firm body offered.
A moment later – far too soon – he was whispering in my ear.
“We’re on the ground now.” He smirked down at me, knowing I had been focused on…other things.
“Thanks,” I said, stepping back away. “I’ve fallen before. It doesn’t hurt.”
“I see. I’m still learning your limitations here.”
We stood in uncomfortable silence until I realized I still held the scroll. I loosened my grip on it, allowing it to unravel, coming to rest some ten feet away.
I drew in a shaky breath, closing my eyes for a moment, and said, “Magdalene Tanner.” I instantly glanced up at Eran to make sure this was correct – after all, my name could have changed between this life and the last. But the scroll began to move.
It ended up toward the bottom of the list. My eyes traced the names down until they landed on my past lives.
Previously Magdalene Tanner – Died Billings, Montana, October 12, 1990
Previously Margaret Talor – Died Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, July 3, 1863
Previously Marie Lafayette – Died Paris, France, July 14, 1789
Previously Anna Willowsby – Died London, England, April 13, 1665
Previously Friedricha Schaffhausen – Died Muehlhausen, Germany, June, 5, 1525
I felt my eyebrows raise together as a sense of confusion came over me. The dates and places looked so familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“Notice anything?” Eran asked.
“The dates…and the…” I replied, shaking my head.
And then it hit me.
“The dates and places are the same as yours…” I looked up at him. “Is that odd?”
He laughed to himself, taking a seat on the stone bench. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Then I wouldn’t need to explain. But I should have known you’d see it. You’re too observant for your own good, Magdalene.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, still standing where he’d left me, too frightened to move.
Why was he so reticent?
He put his face in his hands, rubbing exasperatedly, and then sat up quickly, as if he’d made a firm decision to be straight forward with me. This was good. I needed to fully understand what was going on because that woozy feeling was coming back again. Advisedly, he began to speak.
“It’s not that you went to earth at the same time I did. It’s the opposite. I followed you. I followed you because you’re a messenger and I am a guardian – your guardian. It wasn’t me who chose to return to earth during volatile times, Magdalene. You chose it. You understand that people need your service most during turbulence, chaos, and so you go. I follow to protect you. It was only this last time that I didn’t trail you, thinking I’d be more capable of keeping you safe in this form than in any other.”
“I chose?”
He nodded. “It’s always been your choice.”
And then he snickered to himself. “I couldn’t understand why you didn’t recognize me that first time I saved you in the street…when the Ford Mustang was chasing you down. To be honest, I was hurt about it until I realized the reason. You had returned to earth as a reborn. Reborn’s don’t begin again with a memory. Doing so only impedes their progress in the next life.”
“We’ve known each other before?” I asked, barely above a whisper because that was all the energy I could muster, the rest of it was focusing on my shock.
“Oh, yes.”
“For how long?”
“Lifetimes, Magdalene.”
I moved to the bench, uncertain my legs would endure much more of this news before collapsing. “Lifetimes…” I whispered, indulging in the impossibility of it. “You’ve followed me for lifetimes…”
“I have,” he admitted, though he didn’t seem as inhibited about it as I would have thought.
I stopped in front of him. “Were we friends?” I inquired, knowing the opposite could have been true too.
He confirmed my fear. “Not always.” But then he chuckled and I felt slightly placated. “Would you like to hear our story?”
I had a difficult time suppressing the exhilaration rushing through me, as I noted the last two words he’d used. We had a story together. It seems implausible that this man, the embodiment of perfection, and I have been so connected throughout time.
“Undeniably…yes!”
“Sit, and I’ll tell you,” he said, patting the seat beside him.
As I did, our legs touched, creating a warm, firm pressure, from hip to knee. He drew in a quick breath, responding to our contact, and I glanced at him, wondering if he did have some hidden attraction toward me. The thought of it made me dizzy, even though he quickly recovered.
Eran drew in a breath and began then. “The very first time I set eyes on you was almost five hundred years ago. Our families shared a property line and despite the Germanic Wars taking place around us and the feud between our two families…well, it certainly took precedence.”
“Our families were fighting?”
“Every chance we got. But the women were kept well away from the conflict. We lived less than a mile away from each other, never knowing the other existed until one night. I caught you walking through our property, cloaked because it had been raining. I thought that you were a boy up to no good. When I stopped and demanded that you show yourself, you…” He paused, laughing at the image playing in his mind.
“What? I what?” I persisted.
“You fought me.” Despite his words, he was smiling in amusement. “Very well, too. You are excellent with the sword.”
“I am?” I asked. Surrounded by disbelief, I thought back to fencing class and my pathetic attempts at wielding the weapon.
“When you’re reborn, it takes time to remember these things. It’ll come back to you,” he assured me.
“So…” I said hesitant of what his answer might be to my next question. “Did I hurt you?”
This time he rolled his head back and roared with laughter. After recovering, he continued, “Nothing that left me debilitated.”
I sighed with relief. “Good.”
“But you wanted to…and fought hard at it. Eventually, you ended up pinned to a tree where I was able to get a good look at you and found that you were a girl.”
“Were you surprised?” I asked, intrigued.
“Very much.”
“So, were we friends after that?” I ventured, hopeful.
“Not friends, business partners. You were on your way to deliver messages for the rich and I came along…as your guard.”
My mouth fell open. “Is that how we started? How you became my guardian?”
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “If we aren’t putting too fine a point on the moment in time…yes. I met you every fortnight from then on to walk with you, protecting you against whatever miserable characters you might come across.”
“What did our families think of it? Our partnership?”
“They never learned of us. I made certain of it.”
“So, is that how we’ve been every lifetime? Partners?”
A nostalgic smile moved across his face before answering cautiously, “In one form or another.”
I decided against pressing him for a clearer answer, feeling that my effort would be in vain. Instead, I opted to ask another question, one that piqued my curiosity. “What were we like back then?”
“Well…” He shrugged. “Very much the way we are now. You were stubborn…” He paused to grin at me. “Courageous. Caring. You have an instinct to help others so you’ve followed that path throughout your lives.”
Our eyes locked
and I couldn’t explain it but I suddenly felt an intense urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him. It took every bit of my effort to resist that urge. I literally had to fold my hands into fists and refocus my attention. A moment later, we both looked away, heaving a sigh. Right then I realized he had to fight off the same urge I had. Disappointment overwhelmed me. We hadn’t acted on it, and I was uncertain now of how to behave. So I asked the first question that came to mind.
“Was I-Was I always like you describe me? In every life?”
“Yes…You are who you are and that is carried with you…regardless.”
“So if you knew me for so long, why didn’t you want to tell me who I was? You seemed so hesitant.”
