Heaven and Back
A short story I wrote for my short story class in college.
I felt the edge of my bed sink and heard the box spring creek with the weight of whatever had decided to land there. I sprung awake frightened, only to see the shadow of my Grandfather perched at the end of my bed looking at me. His features outlined in the darkness. Parkinson’s disease had plagued him for the past eight years now, so his once 250 pound husky build had deteriorated to a fragile 115.
“Hi Emmy.” He rasped. “I’m sorry to have scared you.”
“That’s okay Gramp!” I replied groggily, even though I was extremely confused as to how he had gotten into my room, let alone why he was sitting on the edge of my bed at 1AM.
“I want you to come somewhere with me, I have something to show you”
I couldn’t wrap my head around the reasoning of my Grandfather showing up in my bedroom so late at night, but I’d go to the end of the earth with him if he asked me to, so of course I jumped at the second he said he had something to show me. Generally it was something he had made out of scrap wood or something cool he had found at a yard sale, so I knew whatever it was would not disappoint me.
“Take my hand, close your eyes, and count to 5” were his instructions.
I thought it was weird, but obliged to his requests and did as I was told. When I opened my eyes back up, we were sitting in a red four-door Chevy truck, engine revving and George Strait coming out of the radio. The smell of lemon drops wafted in the air bringing me to a familiar place of childhood rides in my Gramps truck, but when I looked at my surroundings I couldn’t recognize where we were. My Grandfather’s appearance had also changed to a much younger, healthier version of himself. The one I remembered from my childhood lifting me up onto a horse, or carrying hay bales to the barn.
The truck idled outside of a diner, and I noticed an old run down gas station across the street. The small-town feel felt much like Orrington where I had grown up, but the dirt roads made me feel like I was in an old Western.
I thought we might be going into the diner for some food, but he shifted into drive and started down the road, passing a barber shop and a Mom and Pop store on the way. As we drove out of town he began to speak.
“I can’t wait to show you what we’ve built; you’re going to love it.” His crystal blue eyes looked excited as he glanced at me through his glasses. Something that had been passed down and was a Cox trait I was so proud to have inherited.
We took a left at a flashing yellow light and he informed me that we were getting closer to our destination, just a straight shot down the road another mile or so. The bumpy roads made me feel like a kid again, when he used to take us on rides through his pasture on the big trailer that attached to his John Deere tractor. All of us grandkids would pile in, racing for the best seat by the edge so we could try and catch the long grass that brushed up against the sides as we went.
I came back from my daydream when I realized that the truck had come to a halt.
We had stopped in front of a long gravel driveway, whose end disappeared into the woods. I was wondering why we had stopped, when my Gramp rolled down his window to get the mail. He reached into the mailbox and pulled out a large envelope that didn’t have a return address on it.
“Yes! They finally came. Now I have things to decorate the living room with.” He pulled out dozens of pictures, ranging from photos of my dad at the age of 20 in his Air Force blues, to my cousins and me playing dress up, to his cat, Abby. I was a little confused, but didn’t really think much of it as we started up the winding driveway. Pine trees encompassed the vehicle as we ventured deeper and deeper into the woods. We whipped around a final curve to a clearing that opened up to the most wonderful sight I had seen in awhile.
A big log cabin surrounded by a beautifully constructed rock wall stood before me, its walls reaching three stories high and made from the richest tree trunks. The fountains that flowed in the front yard circulated the most pristine water that it could have been the very H20 that Jesus walked on. It was a flawless piece of land and nothing less than what I expected.
“Well what do you think, chicken!?” A name that he often called me.
“It’s breathtaking.” Was all I could answer. And it was.
“Just wait until you see what’s around back!” He replied with a smile.
We hopped out of the truck and he took my hand, leading me down a rock-paved path. It was then that it dawned on me that this was an exact replica of his farm that he had years before when I was a young girl. I knew exactly where we were headed. To his beloved barn.
It wasn’t a surprise to me that when we walked our way down the pathway I could see horses roaming the pasture. There were also some goats I could see in a pen off to the left, head butting each other in a playful manner. As we emerged from the path the glorious barn appeared, more magnificent than the house that had taken my breath just moments before. My Grandfather’s face lit up with enjoyment and I could tell that he took pride in the property that he was able to call his.
We wandered to the door of the barn when a figure appeared from behind the hay bales that were stacked neatly in the back corner. I knew from the moment that I saw his stalky build that it was my Uncle Steve. It had been 16 years since I had seen him, but there’s no mistaking a Cox when you see one. The physical features and the way Cox’s carry themselves is very distinct. The bellowing belly laugh that filled the room was also a tell-tale sign that it was my Dad’s brother whom we had tragically lost so many years previous.
“Hello, Emmy” He said to me.
I wasn’t quite sure what to think as I was just a young girl, maybe 5, when he passed so I hadn’t had a long relationship with him. I found my eyes welling up due to the fact that I knew that so many people missed him and loved him and here I was standing right in front of him. We had a brief conversation and he went back to work, putting finishing touches on the vacant horse stall.
Just as I was turning to walk out of the barn a dog ran in from outside, nearly knocking me to the ground. I couldn’t believe my eyes, which were now definitely filled with tears that had started to leak from my tear ducts. It was Barney my childhood dog, and he was acting spunkier than ever. My first best friend, my companion, and the one who could always make me feel better was here within my reach. I crumbled to the ground and let myself be wallowed in puppy-dog slobbers.
As I sat there being drowned in dog drool, it hit me. Is this what heaven was like? I began to ask questions, and my Gramp gave me answers. He told me my mom’s parents and my Grandfather Washburn were down at the race track getting ready for another weekend of horse races and my Grampy Ward was going to make his famous macaroni and cheese with ham for dinner. I wanted to go and see them, but he said that I didn’t have much time left before I had to go home. Go home!? I said to him. What did he mean go home? This seemed like the most perfect place. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and my most beloved family members were here. Why in the world would I want to leave?
“I just wanted to get a squeeze from you Emmy, and to let you know that I’m fine. I want you to graduate college and be the best teacher that I know you can be. I miss you already, but you don’t need to miss me, because I’m there with you every step of the way. When you are in your darkest moments and think you are alone, I am right beside you to help guide you and support you along the way. Don’t forget that. I love you.”
His voice began to fade with every word, and before I knew it I could hear nothing but a low mumble. I heard the sound of what I thought to be sirens, only to realize that it was just my alarm waking me up to begin my day. There I was cocooned in my blankets, warm and safe in my bed. Had I been there all night? It all just seemed so real. The house, the barn, my Gramps comforting voice. Had it all really just been a dream? I climbed out of bed placing both feet on the floor, knowing that my Grandfather was safe and so was I.
