I
couldn’t believe I’d slept so long. My eyes popped open when I heard the rush
of wind and felt the brilliant sunshine through the window. I dragged my feet
over the side of the bed and was pleasantly surprised that my chest didn’t hurt.
Not like it had yesterday. As I sat rubbing the sleep out of my eyes the bed
became hard, like wood, and when I looked I was sitting on a bench.
I
shaded my eyes when I heard her voice. A pretty woman with chestnut curls
walked towards me. She seemed to be in a state of happy excitement. I smiled.
“Hi,”
she said. “Are you in line?”
“Uh,
no,” I said, trying to figure out what she meant.
“There’s
always a line here on Hurricane Day.”
“Hurricane
Day?”
“Yeah,
and this one’s a CAT5. The whole beach is buzzing about it.”
I
stood up. What in the world? Where was I?
The
woman laughed. “C’mon. I’ll help you pick out a board.”
She
took my hand and pulled me towards the big glass doors. Buddy Jones Surf Boards
was scrawled across a piece of driftwood placed just so on a huge rock right outside
the entrance. We walked in and were greeted heartily by a tall man with a
dimple in his chin deep as the Grand Canyon.
“You
two have just beat the crowd,” he said with a laugh, oddly familiar.
“I’ll
have a Silverado 700, and she’ll have a Turquoise Tortoise.”
We
walked out into the wind hanging onto our boards for dear life. The howling had
intensifying to an astounding degree and before I’d blinked twice we were at
the water’s edge. I knew I should feel terrified, but I didn’t. I could hear
the wind and see it whipping up the water, but otherwise the woman and I were
unaffected. She squeezed my hand.
“Ready?”
I
nodded. I couldn’t believe it, but I nodded. And then we were flying over the
water, our toes at the edge of our boards, sea foam bubbling up and over. Salt
spray in my face. I’d never felt so alive in my life. Why wasn’t I afraid? How
could this be a hurricane? I’d barely had time to form the question in my mind
when the board dropped away beneath me.
I
felt the leathery skin of the whale brush my thigh, but I didn’t scream. The
sensation was quite pleasant. And then – the whale laughed. Great bubbles
tumbled from his gargantuan mouth, and that’s when I noticed we were underwater.
Incredibly blue green water. And I wasn’t drowning. I was breathing.
Underwater.
As
the whale swam past me I grabbed onto the last bit of him. Maybe I shouldn’t
have, because one flip of his mighty tail, and he was rid of me. The next thing
I knew I was sitting on the beach. My clothes were dry, my hair was wet and the
young woman, who I’d lost track of out on the water, plopped herself down
beside me and asked if I wanted a S’more.
I
sure did! I was hungry as all get out.
Just
then I saw my Aunt Marie, her red hair glinting in the light from the fire pit.
She was playing a guitar and sitting
next to the guy from the surf board place who looked over at me and winked.
“Hello,
Susie Q.” His eyes were a surreal shade of blue.
The
pretty woman was back beside me with a S’more in her hand, and that’s when I recognized
her. Mom. The way she must have looked at eighteen or some other age I couldn’t
quite determine, but beautiful and full of life.
“Look
over there,” she said, touching my cheek so I would. She pointed to a spot just
beyond the sand dunes where a silvery pink brilliance shown in the sky.
“What
is it?” I asked.
“They’re
getting ready for you.”
The
air crackled with some kind of energy, like thousands of birds in flight.
“He
told me He could only imagine what you’d be like and . . ” Here she hesitated. “I
think He’s a little nervous.”
Suddenly
the air went out of me. I was going to meet Him.
“I
want to tell you a few things before that happens,” she said. “Heaven is never
dull. It has no bounds, and you will always feel His love. It takes forever to
explore, but you’re going to love it.”
“Why
. . . wh . . why would He be nervous about meeting me?”
“I
think He wasn’t sure when He called your name that you’d come. But here you
are. Yay!”
Mom
and her sister, Marie, laughed. And so did Dad. I think his dimple even danced.
Note:
Heaven will not be what we expect – at all. Hope to see you there.
Image:
www.freedigitalphotos.net
I'll look for you, you look for me.
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