DOES IT HAPPEN, that after a while one has a curiosity about the afterworld?
Maybe some people have the curiosity, and since the blessing of my airplane crash it’s been floating around, just out of touch.
“Out of touch,” he said, “since you’re not caring enough, right now, to know.”
It was a guardian spirit. A handsome male angel. I’ve seen a number of guardian angels for the last year and a half. Maybe not seen, but talked with. I know they can do all sorts of things for mortals. To understate a bit: they’re our friends.
“I know that I’m pretending to be a mortal just now,” I said.
“Well said. ‘Pretending to be.’”
It was somehow all right to ask. “I talk more easily with female spirit guides. Would you mind…?”
He didn’t blink. “Stand by,”
They can shift — could I shift, if I were an angel, or a guide? Well, I could get someone to change places if I weren’t the right one.
“Hi. How can I help you?” What a sweet face. No wings, but so dear. As though I knew her.
“I want to know about afterlives.”
“Of course,” she said. “What do you need to know?”
“I was there not long ago,” I said. “In one of them.” After the crash.
“Afterlives. So you know, don’t you? You know there’s more than one heaven.”
“I thought there might be more than one. Because, well…how could everyone go to one afterworld? All those radical different beliefs?”
“Good!” She was pleased. “Our heaven is matched to our sense of Love. How long did it take you, how long to consider, that there might be more?”
I couldn’t lie. “Seventy-some years,” I whispered.
“You probably had lots of other things to learn.”
“Airplanes,” I said. “Can I ask a question?” She had long hair, a long dark pony-tail. I knew she lived in an alternate heaven.
“How many, do you think…”
She made it my question. “How many afterworlds are there, Richard, would you say? How many heavens?”
Instead of telling her, I have no idea, I told her my guess. “An infinite number.”
“We like to say there’s an indefinite number, but you’d probably agree.”
I smiled. “More than anyone can count.” I got it right.
“And that’s because…?” she said.
What’s a because answer? “Because everyone has a belief of what it could be for them, and they create it, same as we create our beliefs on earth.” Interesting, I thought, the hereafter, it’s our belief, too!
“What if they don’t believe in an afterlife?” she said. “It’s just blank for them? Everything’s dark, forever and forever?”
“Maybe for a while it is. And then someone like you, some one they love, might mention that if they moved a little toward the light…”
“But it was dark.”
“Because they couldn’t see without a suggestion. Soon as she said, ‘Toward the light,’ they’d see it.”
“Good.” How could I be good, when the guy said I didn’t do any homework? I prefer women angels.
“So there are hereafters that are hell,” I said, “and some that are heaven?”
“Whatever we truly believe, that presents itself as true for us.”
“So what’s real? Is everything beliefs on beliefs?”
“Oh. You know that.” What a smile!
“Are angels always beautiful?”
“Thank you,” she said. “We are, in your heaven. The higher you rise, the beautifuller are the scenes, and the angels, too.” She repeated herself. “What’s real?”
“All the worlds, they’re beliefs.” But I knew, or at least I was convinced, “Love’s real,” I said.
“You don’t say God?”
“Time for you to wake,” she said. “What a pleasure, to meet you!” She smiled, as though she had talked with me for a thousand dreams.