A Long Way Up, Part Two
A teenage girl finds herself in the Afterlife following a tragic accident involving her and her twin sister. When her Afterlife guide uncovers a terrible mistake, the girl must make an impossible decision. Did you miss Part One? Read it here.
Brenda pops up beside me, and I almost fall out of my chair.
“Hello again, Miss Peterson! I hope you’ve made a lovely adjustment to your cottage in The Garden.”
I consider telling her about this nagging feeling that I don’t belong here. “Oh, yeah, I guess. I mean, I know about the levels now. But—”
“Wonderful! That means you’ve had a successful introduction, and it’s time for AL2.” She extends her hand and waggles her fingers for me to come with her, and we leave the cottage and walk back through The Garden. Just past the gazebo, Brenda pulls back some vines, and the elevator from before appears. She ushers me on but does not follow. “See you soon!” She waves and the doors close before I can ask any questions.
This elevator ride is much like the first – it seems to go on forever. I thought I was just going up one level, but instead I’m standing here wondering how much time is being wasted here in this no-button elevator. When it stops and the doors open, Brenda greets me.
“Yoo-hoo! Told you I’d see you soon,” she croons. “Welcome to The Island,” and again she’s a gameshow hostess, spreading her arms with a flourish to present the prize laid out before me. This time it’s a pink-sand beach, gorgeous cerulean waves gently kissing the shore. Starfish and conch shells and brilliantly colored cone shells speckle the perfect sand in perfect patterns. The soft sun is like a blanket wrapped around me, and I look at my bare arms and see that I am now in a swimsuit, and my bare feet are sinking into the silky sand.
Brenda motions for me to follow her, and we come to a bright pink umbrella table with two comfy lounge chairs. On the table are two tall glasses of lemonade with a spear of pineapple and maraschino cherry. We sit and sip for a moment, enjoying the calm of the ocean, the seagulls’ cries carried on the wind.
Then Brenda asks, “Do you know why you’re here?”
I’m confused by the question. “Because I died?”
“Yes, but why here specifically?”
“Isn’t The Island the second stage of the afterlife?”
“The Island is the second stage of the afterlife for you, Miss Peterson.”
I process that statement. “You mean, the afterlife stages are different for each person?”
Brenda nods and smiles. “So, why are you… here?”
I look around me. It’s beautiful, there’s no doubt about that, but I can’t think of any specific reason why I’m here as opposed to, say, a beauty parlor or shopping mall.
“So, that’s what you need to think about, dear,” Brenda says, and she gets up, finishes off her lemonade, and walks away. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait! Brenda, I—” but she’s gone again.
I make my way to the water, sparkling in the sun. As the waves rush over my toes, a memory washes over me. Me and Amber at a beach, splashing in the water, giggling and squealing. Mom and Dad lying on towels under the shade of an umbrella. Where were we? I can’t remember, but it was one of the few times we’d been to the ocean. We live by a lake and go boating all the time. I love the lake, its calm, peaceful waters that smell of crawdads and toads and algae. But Amber loves the ocean, with its salty, sun-drenched scents. She always said it made her feel free. “I wish we could stay here forever!” she’d said that day.
Maybe that’s why I’m here. To remember Amber and our good times together. To see that even though we’re twins, we’re two very different people. And that Amber, even though she is a bit of a rebel, is so full of heart, so loving.
Or maybe it’s to remind me that I should have stopped her from taking the boat out that night of the storm. She’s the risky one; I’m the reasonable one. I should have said no. She would have listened to me. Instead, I was too intent on seeing Matt, too intent on, I don’t know, proving myself? Proving that I could be fun too. I could be a daredevil like Amber. But the one time I chose to not be a stick in the mud, I died, apparently. And left Amber all alone. It’s my fault.
At that thought, Brenda appears beside me, startling me, even though I should be used to it by now.
“I see you’ve been reflecting on your purpose here, Miss Peterson,” she says, “And you’re right. That’s exactly why you’re here.”
I’m not sure which reason she means – my first idea or the second. But Brenda turns and pulls me up the beach.
Then we’re at the elevator again and I’m on a long ride upward. When the doors open, Brenda says, “Welcome Home, Miss Peterson.”
She steps aside, and I’m home.
Check back soon for Part 3!