Book of Life (13 page)

I began to feel frantic. Had I missed Max’s return to the river bank? Had days passed already?

Eliza took my hand. “Calm down. Allow me to relax your worries by saying that I would never allow you to miss your meeting with Max. It’s only been a few hours.” She giggled. “Your relationship with him has become a source of much entertainment for me. I wouldn’t want to miss a moment for myself.”

“Glad you view us like a soap opera,” I mumbled.

Eliza seemed confused. “Soap opera? What is that?”

I had forgotten about the time in which she’d come from. “Don’t worry. You’re not missing much.” I thought again on the subject of time and space here. Those few hours could have easily felt like days. I suppose if I really looked into the things we’d done I’d see that there was no way a cup of tea alone could last days, but then again could it? “How do you keep track of time?”

Eliza looked up at the sky. “Takes experience to get used to it, and of course my clairvoyance and foresight help considerably. Stick with me and I will be your clock.” She dropped her gaze and latched her arm with mine in a sisterly way.

“I’d like to see my father again. Do you know where he lives?” I couldn’t help but wonder why my father hadn’t come back to find me, but then perhaps he did and I was too lost in myself to see that.

“John Taylor, right?”

I nodded.

“I see him a lot around the temple.”

I felt nervous. “Is he trying to forget and go back?”

She pressed her lips together. “Not that I know of. More or less I think he likes to go there to feel a part of something. I believe that’s his life purpose, to be a part of a group or organization.”

“He was a priory member in his life on Earth. I know that much.” I’d had to learn that the hard way, but the truth was now out. My whole family was a part of the magickal world, except for my human mother, but she’d known all along. She knew what my father was, for all I know she probably knew how or why he died, she just never told us—perhaps, in her hopes, she was trying to protect us.

Eliza looked interested. “I’ve never talked with your father.” The way she said it seemed loaded, like she was surprised he hadn’t because everyone did.

“What difference does it make if he’s talked to you or not?”

“Oh look, we’re here.” Eliza changed the subject.

I was frustrated and confused, but that frustration was quickly forgotten as I looked in the direction she was. The buildings had ended, opening to a large area of green. It was just like how I envisioned Central Park to be in New York, a place I’d never been but had always longed to go—a patch of green among a sea of grey stone.

A small blonde boy in striped overalls rode along the sidewalk on a tricycle. He looked up at us and smiled. His gaze lingered on Eliza. “Hello, Elly!” He cried happily, waving with one hand as the front wheel of his tricycle wobbled.

She waved back with a small, sweet smile.

I looked at Eliza. “A friend of yours?”

She nodded fondly.

“Are you a teacher?” I guessed.

Eliza giggled uncontrollably. “Me? A teacher?”

I shrugged and stood tall again, not seeing what was so funny about it. “You’re doing a good job teaching me,” I offered.

She controlled her laughter, one hand on her stomach. “But I’m not the type of teacher you have your mind set on. I’m not a kindergarten or school type teacher. Besides, I look too young for that. I doubt they’d take me seriously in that role.”

We were still standing on the sidewalk opposite the park. “Then what kind of teacher are you?”

Eliza stepped off the curb. “You’ll see!” she griped.
“No patience . . .”
she mumbled under her breath.

I followed her across the cobbled road. For all the roads here, I sure hadn’t seen many cars. I didn’t know why, and I wasn’t about to speculate. I was finding that it was far simpler to accept things for what they were. Still, I could not accept the mystery of what it was Eliza did.

We walked into the park that was gated all around as far as I could see. The gate was at least twice my height and made of black iron. Each iron bar was topped with sharp, ominous arrows and the sections were divided by vertical grey stone obelisks. Trees, simple and large, loomed over us. The leaves were a surreal green and shaped like tear drops, waxy as they reflected the sunlight. Below our feet was a cobbled path, perfectly patterned without a single weed growing between the stones. Despite their tidiness, it was obvious that they were still well worn, walked over time and time again by many people, coming and going.

We walked leisurely along the gently arching path that soon led to a small lake. Here, the water was alive with life both animal and otherwise. Toy boats navigated miniature waves, chased along the shore by groups of small children, all seemly unsupervised. A splash sent a group of girls into a fit of laughter. I looked for the source of their amusement, amazed when an otter popped its head above the water, grasping one of the toy boats and floating it on its tummy.
Where were their parents?

“Some are far older than you. They may look like children and act like children, but as far as their knowledge and age goes they are no different than me—smart beyond their physical years. For many, they choose to remain childish. I, on the other hand, have chosen to grow up. I was never really a child anyway. In short, they don’t require parents, and what are parents but a life lived alongside our own? You and your father are no more related than you and I are. It’s all a matter of who you’re born to in your next life. You’ve had other parents, you just don’t remember them.”

I was blown away by the concept. My father was not really my father at all, but more like a companion and guide—probably one of many at that. Looking away from the children, I finally saw a few adults strolling along the outskirts. They walked alone, in pairs, or groups deeply lost in conversation. They discussed what seemed serious subjects, but their voices were too low to key in. Looking at Eliza, however, I saw that she knew. There was a smile on her face.

“Where’s the temple?” All this beauty but I had yet to see a temple of any kind.

Eliza lifted her hand and led me to the right. She didn’t answer my question as we went on, rather inviting me to enjoy the surroundings in silence. I bit my lip, too anxious to do as she wanted, too excited to see this place that so far felt like the center of this world. We rounded the lake and I watched a pair of swans paddle to and fro along beside us. They seemed to watch Eliza with adoration.

Finally, we arrived at another open gate. It arched gently, inviting us in. Just inside the gate I saw why—it was designed to. An overwhelming sense of arrival prevailed over me, my eyes almost squinting against the bright joy of this place. The entire area was shaped in a large circle. Stairs, about fifteen, stepped up to a center area I could not yet see. I was filled with hope, happiness, and a general feeling of euphoria. On the steps people sat talking and smiling. Again, some were deep in serious conversation, but some not.

We approached the stone steps and began to climb. Quickly, what was above came into view with each step. At first I didn’t understand just what it was I was seeing. There was a lot of gold organic movement—it confused me. Quickly, however, the gold above funneled and spun downward and I began to make sense of the reaching forms and solid base—it was a giant tree.

From our place at the top of the steps the tree was still quite a ways away. It sat toward the center of the large circle, between us acres of perfectly kempt green lawn. People lounged and picnicked and I began to get a feel for this place, and why a community man like my father would like it so much.

A cobblestone path cut through the lawn between us and the tree. We walked on down it, people looking up and smiling at us as we passed, many tipping their heads at Eliza. As we drew closer to the tree I saw that there were two more paths running away from it at a ninety degree angle to our own. I assumed four paths lead to the center, each like the arms of a compass—North, East, South and West.

Despite all this, it was the trunk of the tree that captured most of my attention, gently twisting upward into the sky like a well-spun basket. It was large like the empire state building, but perhaps not quite that tall. The branches themselves should have cast us into shadow, but the tree seemed to let out its own kind of light. This light felt even warmer than the sunlight itself.

We approached the trunk where the large, fat roots dove proudly into the ground. Grass grew freely around its base, unkempt unlike the rest of the large lawn. Out of the wild grass the occasional wildflower grew childishly large in shape, adding color. As we neared the base, a natural arch appeared, formed by the reaching arms of the roots, lifting at the base of the tree like hands.

“Are we going under that?” I whispered to Eliza. I wasn’t sure why I’d whispered, perhaps it was the ethereal feeling of this place.

Eliza laughed a little. “Of course. You don’t have to be afraid.”

What else should I be if not afraid? I wasn’t prepared to be reborn, therefore I wasn’t prepared to get this close to the source of it. What if entering this place meant I had to, or what if it made me forget everything of my previous life?

“You won’t forget, and it doesn’t work like that. We’re not here to trick you.”

“We?”

Again, Eliza didn’t answer me, but I was beginning to get the feeling that her job had something to do with this place.

Once under the tree, the inside was much larger than I anticipated. I hadn’t expected that the ceiling reached so far above—to what I suspected the top of the tree—but from where I stood it felt like there was no end. Glittering light poured down from this imaginary ceiling above us. The air twisted and danced as though alive, whirling ever so gently into space.

“Is
that
. . .” I pointed up.

Eliza stood beside me, looking where I was. “Yes. That is the way back. That is another life waiting for you.”

I looked down at her, gulping dramatically.

She went on, “It is thought that we all see something different. For me, what I see still scares me, but for some I believe they see a more inviting light. Those are the ones that are ready to move on, even if they don’t think so when they come here.”

I looked back at the light with trepidation. To me, it felt inviting.

I knew Eliza heard my every thought on the subject. I was thankful she kept her thoughts to herself.

I forced myself to look away, not wanting to admit that somewhere deep inside I did feel ready. A part of me was beginning to think that forgetting it all and starting over was the only answer—the freeing answer. Everything about my life thus far weighed on me. Could I ever forget and heal? Would I ever be able to love Max the way I wanted to?

Just the thought of Max stopped me. I thought of his face and his sweet touch. I thought about all he’d done to find me, all the pain he’d felt. Indulging this desire to be reborn meant spitting on his every effort. And what if the next life I went into was full of challenge as Eliza’s had been—as mine had been before? And what if Max did find me, would he love me the same way he does now? His long life won’t let him forget. I’d be struggling to compete with myself like a jealous girlfriend.

I tried to think about something else. “So, who is this person that everyone comes here to see?”

Eliza tilted her head, eyes glowing blue. “It’s me.” She smiled as though to say ‘surprise!’

For a moment I felt disappointed, but then intrigue and understanding took its place. Of course. She was so knowledgeable, so experienced in this world. “You?”

She nodded.

I guess I had expected more. Eliza was sweet and amazing, but so small and riddled with her own troubles. I had pictured a divine being that was at peace with everything in all the worlds—Eliza was anything but. I tried to keep this thought to myself, but the failing smile on Eliza’s face told me that wasn’t working.

I looked around the rest of the space, trying to focus on something else but there was nothing but the inner walls of the tree staring back at me, golden and gleaming. I was forced to elaborate. “So, that’s what you do.” I tried to sound positive. “You pick up souls by the edge of the river and bring their glimmers here to be reborn?”

I was surprised when she shook her head. “No, most find their way on their own.” She couldn’t hide her continued disappointment with me.

“I’m sorry. I can’t always control my thoughts. You just took me off guard, is all.”

She laughed uneasily. “It’s alright. I see your point. I guess when I think about it I had the same thought once, too—I expected a lot more.”

“So, if you didn’t come to the river to get me and bring me here, why did you come for me at all?” There had to be a reason beyond her fascination with my love life.

She began to cheer up again. “Because there aren’t many Seoul’s left. Not many beings are brought back to life by angels. In recent years it’s been seen as taboo. Most angels simply do as they’re designed—deliver the souls here—but Max, he’d fallen in love.” She touched my arm. “I’ve always had a fondness for the mind of a Seoul. They are so incredibly reflective. I don’t think there’s a thing about your life you haven’t considered and relived over and over again in your minds. Seoul’s have lived life to the fullest—no regrets. You see, those regrets you think you have aren’t your regrets. Those regrets are other’s regrets that you’ve chosen to carry as your own in order to help, but it hurts instead. If those you love can’t face the mistakes they’ve made, life here in the Ever After will only be as confusing as it is for me. You have to let them deal with their own problems, like your sister.”