I slip my arm through hers, ready to go, but there is one last knock on the door. Bobby.
“It would seem you are, in fact, taking your leave of us,” he says after we’ve invited him in.
“Seems that way.” Hannah marvels at her ticket like she still can’t believe it’s real. “I never really thought I’d get one of these,” she tells him.
“And yet all your hard work has paid off. You have excellent friends, you know.”
“I do,” she says.
“As Carl Sagan once said, ‘For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love.’ I am certain you shall have many loving relatives waiting for you on the other side, much as you’ve had loving friends here at Atman.”
“Thank you, Bobby,” Hannah says, clearly touched by his words.
“Might I be so bold as to walk you to the elevator?” A small bit of pink sprouts up in his cheeks.
“I’d be honored,” she says.
With that, the four of us leave the room, Hannah for the last time.
“Farewell,” Bobby tells her with a wave as he presses the down button for us. He walks away, leaving the three of us to take the final plunge.
“Ready?” Charlie asks.
With a sniffle and a nod, we’re on our way.
It’s here. Like it or not, Hannah is moments from leaving us.
It’s a busy, noisy place. Train whistles blow, staff members bark out orders, and nervous passengers shuffle in all directions. The platform is crowded with the anxious faces of the newly dead, along with a few afterlife veterans like Hannah. It’s easy to tell them apart. They all look nervous, but Hannah and a select few others are missing that additional look of shock and confusion.
A small man with a big voice in a sky-blue uniform leans out of the train at Platform B and announces, “Now boarding train twelve. Train twelve passengers, step forward for immediate boarding.”
“I guess this is it,” Hannah says. “You two take care of each other, okay?”
“We will,” I say. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll keep Charlie in line.” I throw my arms around her. The selfish part of me that doesn’t ever want to let go is outvoted by the reasonable side of me that is excited for her.
Charlie steps up to give Hannah a final hug. “And I’ll keep kicking her butt in foosball.”
I elbow Charlie. “In your dreams, Weimann.”
“Train twelve,” the conductor shouts again. “All passengers please proceed to the boarding stations.”
“Go,” I say. “I’ll see you soon.”
She turns and walks to the train without looking back.
Charlie holds me steady, and we wait as the final passengers scurry on board. With the slam of a few doors and a chuff of the engine, the train begins its slow departure. It terrified me so much a week ago, but now it only makes me sad as it takes my first friend from Atman off to a waiting eternity.
Charlie pulls me into a warm and steadying embrace and kisses me like we’ll never see each other again.
“Come on, Alice,” he says with a smile. “Let’s go find that rabbit.”
AUTHOR ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Wisps of an afterlife station first entered my mind on the soft chords and melancholy of a song I love during a flight to Los Angeles in 2006. That my words have found their way to printed page is the result of the work, support, dedication, and love of so many.
I must first thank Georgia McBride who, based on a clumsy pitch, gave me a chance and fell in love with the potential she found in the pages of Life, A.D. Your support and expertise have been incredible and inspiring. Thank you for taking a chance on an unpublished, unagented writer. I am honored to be part of the Month9Books family.
Courtney Koschel believed in my story from the first submission, offering praise and, ultimately, an offer of publication. Thank you for being a champion of Dez and her adventures.
I am blessed with an amazing, talented editor, Hallie Tibbetts. You have talked me down from fits of insecurity; inspired me to make my writing better, always better; you have endured countless emails; and, with a deft hand, crafted my story and my words into something so much stronger. Hopefully you’ll edit this, too, because that last sentence is pretty long.
It takes so many to make a book a reality. Each member of the Month9Books team has been a joy to work with. Thank you for putting your time and your talent into this book.
I would be remiss not to mention my fellow Month9Books authors. It is a privilege to be part of such a supportive group.
Dr. Laura McCullough at the University of Wisconsin–Stout generously offered her time so I could be certain the physics of Dez’s crash were correct. The accident scene reconstruction on your desk with the Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch cars I fished from my purse will always stick with me. Poor Big Bird.
The science mentioned in Life, A.D. is something I will, admittedly, never fully understand. Dr. Todd Zimmerman, also of the University of Wisconsin–Stout, patiently explained some of the basics to me so that I might try to wrap my mind around Bobby. Any errors in application or fact are my own.
Jennifer Wade, you are the queen of all things contractual and legal. Thank you for helping me through the complexities with a minimum of brain strain, and for your enthusiastic support.
Thank you to Dr. Michael Levy, again of University of Wisconsin–Stout (home of the author-helping trio!) for your advice and encouragement. You gave me the nudge I needed to brave the waters of the publishing world.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for raising a kid just weird enough to come up with this story. Mom, thank you for not thinking I was crazy to try. Dad, I wish you were here to see me published; the first copy is for you.
I am so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read my developing story along the way, and to my family and friends for your support. Special thanks to two of my beta readers, Ríoghnach Robinson and Crystal Waters. You gave me honest, thoughtful feedback that helped get my story in shape for submission. Ríoghnach, you are brilliant, intuitive, and an incredible talent. Crystal, you are fiercely wise, you are my first reader, you have supported me from the beginning, and you always speak from a place of love for both my characters and me. This never would have happened without you both.
I save my biggest thanks for my husband, John. Your unwavering support and belief in me have helped me find capability and strength I’d never dreamed possible. With you, I am brave. And thanks to the band for the song.
Michelle E. Reed
Michelle was born in a small Midwestern town, to which she has returned to raise her own family. Her imagination and love of literature were fueled by a childhood of late nights hiding under the covers and reading by flashlight. She is a passionate adoption advocate who lives in Wisconsin with her husband, son, and their yellow lab, Sully.
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Life, A.D. Page 25
