The Body Departed (Page 33)

He scrunched up his little face as he thought back. “There were two of them,” he said, and now that he was being prodded, his memory was coming back to him in bits and pieces. Pauline watched us silently, listening, tears in her eyes.

“Yes, two of them,” I said. This was going to be harder than I had thought it would be, but I forced myself onward. “Jacob, I was one of those boys.”

He looked sharply at me. “I don’t understand.”

“Jacob, I was one of the two boys who pulled you up to the rafters. I was the one who hung you over it. I was the one who accidentally dropped you.”

“But I don’t under—”

“Jacob, I killed you. It was me. I dropped you. I caused you to fall and hit your head. It was me who killed you.”

The nave was empty. Outside, in the adjoining halls and rooms, I could hear a vacuum running and the murmur of voices. The main church itself was empty, except for the four of us—two humans and two ghosts.

Jacob said nothing at first. He stared up at me with his head tilted slightly, his little knees pressed together. I couldn’t help but notice the ethereal blood from his wound was everywhere: over his collar, down his shirt, even up along his sleeves.

“I’m sorry, Jacob,” I said. “I’m so very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to kill you. I didn’t mean to drop you. I was just trying to scare you, I was just trying to find my wallet, but you had no idea what I was talking about, and you were scared, you were so very scared, but I didn’t believe you…”

I broke down completely, weeping into my hands, unable to speak, unable to think, unable to focus, unable to live, unable to die, unable to do anything.

I felt another presence next to me.

It was Jacob, and he had wrapped his arms tightly around me.

54

I was standing with Pauline off to the side of the sanctuary, near the piano, while Jacob and Eli sat together on the stage’s top step. Pauline was holding my hand.

“Jacob forgives you, James.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself.”

“I know.”

Jacob was jabbering away nonstop to his brother. Eli gave no indication of hearing him, but if this bothered Jacob, he didn’t show it. As I listened in now, Jacob was busy telling Eli about what had happened to him in school on some unknown day in some unknown year. Whether or not the boy had been dead or alive on this school day, I didn’t know, and I didn’t think Jacob knew, either.

Amazingly, no one had yet stepped inside the church, and I wondered if Pauline’s big private eye guarding the outside foyer had anything to do with that.

“Either that or divine intervention,” said Pauline, reading my thoughts.

“You think?” I asked.

She grinned. “Nah. Just dumb luck.”

I thought of my daughter growing up without me. I thought of my wife moving on without me. I thought of the world spinning around without me. I really was dead. I really was moving on.

“You can always come back, you know,” said Pauline.

“From the dead? I thought that only happened in horror movies.”

“Hey, sitting in a creepy old church with a serial killer and two ghosts is a horror movie,” she said. “For some people.”

“But not you,” I said. “You’re a brave girl.”

“Or a stupid girl,” she said.

I looked at her. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Pauline. Thank you.”

“What’s a medium to do?”

Pauline and I were quiet some more. Jacob kept talking; he hadn’t stopped or slowed down. Eli, for his part, sat still and seemed to revel in the presence of his twin brother.

“When you said I could come back, what did you mean?”

“Reincarnation,” she said. “That is, if you choose to come back. Or you can come back in other ways, too. In spirit, in dreams, in thoughts. Not to mention every time your daughter thinks of you or speaks your name or asks for your help, you can instantly be by her side.”

“How is that even possible?” I asked, amazed and thrilled by the prospect of seeing my daughter again.

“My dear, there are far greater things in heaven than on earth. You’ll just have to ask around up there.”

As if on cue, a glow appeared from above. The tunnel had returned.

55

And it was closer and brighter than ever.

From it poured a multitude of friendly, smiling spirits, filling the church sanctuary. Some I thought I recognized, but I couldn’t remember them.

Pauline’s eyes widened. “Looks like they brought the whole welcoming committee this time.”

I nodded nervously. I still hadn’t completely wrapped my head around the fact that I was leaving, nor had I entirely escaped the old fears and doubts.

Be strong, James. Be strong.

Eli came over and stood with Pauline, completely unaware that a portal to the heavens had opened above him. Jacob stayed behind on the step, staring wide-eyed at the outpouring of spiritual activity around him. I recalled the boy hiding in fear while Mrs. Randolph was shown the way to the tunnel. This time, Jacob did not run or hide.

There is strength in numbers.

I had learned that lesson from the red-eyed sentries. The boy had been alone before; now he was not.

Jacob looked at me, grinning from ear to ear. “Look at all the angels!” he said, clapping.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” I said.

“So beautiful!”

I turned to Pauline. Eli was still standing next to her. I could tell he knew something was going on, that a shift had occurred, that there was something in the air. Boy, was there something in the air.

I said to Pauline, “Tell Eli that I’m so very sorry for killing his brother.”

As she did so, Eli turned and looked directly into my eyes. “I’m sorry for killing you, James. I’m sorry for shooting you in your sleep. That was cowardly and wrong, and now I’m going to pay for it.”

I told him I forgave him. I told him that he needed to forgive himself, too—words I knew were easier said than done.

Pauline relayed all of this to Eli, who nodded solemnly. She then led him over to his brother, who was now playing catch with a beautiful raven-haired woman, using a glowing orb that looked remarkably like a little sun. I knew this woman. I knew her deeply and passionately and knew I had known her since the dawn of time. She was my soul mate, my passion, my love. I just couldn’t remember who the hell she was.