Being whisked away so abruptly by Gregory was like being caught up in Dorothy's tornado. But where Gregory led Artie - through all the spooky and the lovely - was the beginning of a revelation.
They stopped - Gregory & Artie - on a blossom heavy pathway that seemed to lead to perhaps a large expanse of more blossoms, sparkling light and warmth. As they - Gregory and Artie - proceeded toward the archway that surely was the portal to something - Artie noticed that Gregory began to transform back into his familiar physical self. Artie had the sense that the same thing was happening to him as well. Not a word was spoken but Artie felt safe with Gregory. No longer did he feel Greg was a threat. Monster Greg was no more.
They passed through the archway into an indescribable garden. Warmth and light abounded. Artie never felt so safe and good. Artie felt so very good. He felt Gregory's hand on his shoulder. Artie filled with love for Gregory.
Gregory spoke, "Well, Artie, we made it. I wasn't sure we would. But here we are."
"Its beautiful - beyond beautiful. Where are we, Greg?"
"Home", said Greg simply.
"Yes, I'm home. I am home." Greg wept with profound understanding.
"Sorry about scaring you like that. I had to pretend to be an impostor to save you from the demons." Greg explained.
"I didn't deserve to be saved after what I did," Artie said remorsefully.
"When someone commits suicide, Artie, the demons rush in to claim the soul. We fight for your salvation. In a way, this battle for your soul is your punishment for throwing your precious life away. We don't always win the battle. There has to be good souls here that want your salvation enough to put their own salvation in jeopardy. " Gregory explained.
"I knew you were my best friend." Artie said with a universe full of love toward Gregory.
"I thought that was Clifford," Greg teased, "Oh, and Jill, too."
"I love you all equally and differently," Artie jumped in eager to have Greg understand.
Gregory laughed, "Oh Artie, I know. We all know."
Jill, Clifford, Mom and Dad and Norma suddenly appeared. Artie was overwhelmed with emotion. They just all stood there shimmering - Artie, too. In this shimmer, understanding came to Artie in all its fullness. He understood that this was the first time he was seeing his family and friends. He understood that what appeared to him earlier were impostors - demons. He knew, now. He remembered his suicide. It all was revealed in this shimmer. He also understood with great relief that he was forgiven. However, he knew he would have to atone. The impostors were right about one thing. Everyone must atone. The imposters were bitter souls who refused atonement. For them no one would risk their immortality to save them. They eventually become demons hell bent on recruiting "soldiers" to fight the "atoners". Thanks to Gregory, Artie escaped an eternity of evil warfare. Artie was filled with gratitude. He wanted eagerly to atone. He couldn't wait. And, finally, Artie understood that his salvation came with the help and intervention of Gregory. This was Gregory's atonement.
"Thank you dear dear Gregory," said Artie.
"No, thank you, dear dear Artie for giving my atonement purpose. I am now a pure spirit. There is nothing more perfect then that - to be a pure spirit. I am so happy."
At that, Artie was surrounded by his friends and family. As they hugged and chatted and shimmered Artie knew this reunion was temporary. His atonement would delay their permanent joy. It didn't worry him for he knew - just like Gregory - he would return with a pure soul.
CODA
It was a cold damp morning. It had stopped raining but the dampness and grayness influenced the mood of the early hours. Melba entered the apartment as she did three days a week every week for several years. How many years was it she had been cleaning Artie's apartment. Was it seven - seven years - yes. It was Melba's favorite gig. She was certain Artie cleaned his place the night before she was to come. It was their joke. What a nice guy he was. And generous. Christmas bonuses were rather inappropriate given the light cleaning she was hired to do. Melba even balked a few times but Artie insisted saying she underestimated her worth. Case closed.
Oh, Artie was the best. He really was. Although he had seemed distracted of late and rather morose. But Melba was sure he'd snap out of it eventually. A guy like Artie has so much to live for. Aware of his sadness, Melba brought him a tin of Russian tea cakes - his favorite - she had baked precisely for him the night before. He needed cheering up she thought. And did Artie love her cookies. Oh my God, he seemed to love them more than life.
Melba went into the kitchen to place the tin on the counter with a note that said "Happy Monday, Boss!" She delighted in the fact that Artie would discover them at some point when he returned from work.
Melba left the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom where she always began her chores - making the bed etc. She entered the bedroom and sighed, "That Artie - he went ahead and made his bed. What does he need me for - sometimes I feel like I'm getting charity instead of a paycheck." She dusted a little and made her way toward his "den of inequity" as he jokingly called his home office.
Melba entered the den and saw immediately the spilled wine on the beige rug, the wine glass on the floor and slumped over the desk with his head on the computer keyboard was Artie. Melba rushed to Artie. She tapped his back, "Artie, Artie" One more rather strong back tap and Artie fell to the floor face up and apparently - most apparently dead.
Melba screamed!
THE END
Grief is a funny thing. It is experienced in many different ways. It must be. I don't find myself not eating or crying all the time or obsessing about the past. I know that is how some people grieve.
I have discovered something recently. I am a griever like everybody else. However, I do not seem to grieve like everybody else. For me it comes in waves - sometimes in moments - sometimes a prick of a sensation - an essence - and I am filled up with a presence - other times a longing - a yearning - a strange feeling of suspense as if something is about to happen - to be revealed - to change everything And the grief will turn into relief. There are those episodes where I feel like I am dreaming knowing full well I am wide awake and functioning. I think, as fleeting as these experiences are for me, grief does not come and go. Grief comes and stays. It rises to the surface - submerges - reappears as if to be fed - rests and then a while later wakes up inside of me. All the time lurking - watching - waiting to surface - not going away - like a retro virus.
How do you manage grief? You just deal. You control it rather than it controlling you. You acknowledge it - feel it - and lay it to rest. Grief will obey. This routine will keep you sane. It will even comfort you. In time, grief will become your friend. It will keep the object of your grief close to you proving that no one really dies. You won't be able to explain why this is so but you will know deep in your heart of hearts that it is true. Your well managed grief will serve as a tribute to the one for whom you grieve.
My grief is good. My grief is necessary. My grief is solace.
Episode 10 - The Truth About Artie? Gregory?
Artie spun into unconsciousness. It was some time before he came to. When he opened his eyes he was seated slumped in a large arm chair. It looked very comfortable. It wasn't. He found himself in the middle of a large space facing a tribunal. Well, that is what it looked like. In front of Artie was a very long table that stretched out forever. Seated along the expanse from left to right until he could not see beyond the limitless linear gathering were people he felt he had known in varying degrees - from very well to a slight brush. Siting in the center of this foodless banquet was Gregory. He didn't look like Greg but Artie knew it was Greg just as he recognized Jill and Jill he.
Artie was extremely scared. He had the feeling that this moment was his last. Gregory sat ominously still. The others sat still as well but with a more anticipatory air about them. They were all slightly turned inward eyeing Gregory.
As Artie perused the crowd he saw his parents, Norma, Clifford - all looking like themselves as did the others.
Artie thinks:
There's George the bartender that was always so funny at that bar on third Avenue that closed soon after George died. And I see Miss Titus my sweet high school Algebra teacher. And Lance my first boyfriend. Gosh, how long ago was that? Donny my first bully. Why does he look so kind, now? Grandma - both of them - the good one and the mean one. Was that my Grandpas next to them? I never knew them. Never even saw photographs of either grandfathers. They both passed long before I was born. It seems everyone I ever came in contact is here. But where's Jill? Shouldn't she be here as well?
Jill's absence was like a loud siren. It almost seemed on purpose - something Artie was supposed to notice - be aware of - and figure out.
And still no one spoke. Artie assumed that would be Gregory's job. After all it was obvious Greg was in charge. What was odd, however, in fact very odd, was with all these familiar faces many of whom were people he had loved, Artie did not feel safe or in any way protected. Why aren't his parents or Norma rushing to his side. Not a peep from Clifford. Boy could he use a chilled glass of Chianti right now.
And like magic his hand suddenly held a goblet of chilled Chianti. Artie just stared at the glass trembling with a new fear. He was certain they - all of the gathered ghosts were tuning in - hearing his every thought - all his thoughts - not just the appropriate ones as Jill mentioned. This group heard it all - heard the fear. He was doomed.
"Well, drink it, Artie." Gregory slithered.
Artie caught off guard by Gregory dropped the glass of wine but it did not shatter and splatter. It just disappeared. It was immediately replaced with another full goblet.
"I SAID DRINK IT!" Gregory boomed.
It would seem that Artie would drop the goblet again but fear reversed itself and Artie's grip tightened on the Goblet. Suddenly Gregory was airborne and shot out from the table directly to Artie. He was instantly in his face almost engulfing him with his evil presence........
"DRINK!!"
Artie did as he was told. It was the worst tasting Chianti he had ever had.
The room filled with laughter of a sort one hopes they will never experience. It was ugly, dirty - reeking with sin. Even his parents, Norma and Clifford were screaming this mirthless cackle. All Artie could do was sit there stunned. He then realized something else. He was crying. In fact he had been crying long before he knew it. He was crying. they were laughing and his world had disappeared forever.
Artie would never have the satisfied feeling he had been experiencing these past few years. That feeling that despite everything, he had a good life. He loved his work - his friends - his city. Life had been good. Yes, he had been losing loved ones and that was getting him depressed. But Artie was strong and he knew how to handle grief - setbacks - bad turns. These things weren't new to him. But above all else Artie was resilient and resourceful. But now it was over . The end has come. His life challenges were done. It was done He was done.
The laughter turned into a chant "Drink drink drink drink drink................"
It was unbearable. Suddenly all the seated ghosts flew from the table and filled the room like a swarm of killer bees. They buzzed around attacking Artie within an inch of his body. Flying in circles around him chanting "drink". These familiar entities began to change. They no longer looked as they did. His parents, Norma, Clifford and the rest were no longer recognizable. Swarming around Artie was a flock of hideous monsters. They were dripping and oozing. He had never seen beings such as these. Were they the demons Jill spoke of - the impostors?
Artie heard himself screaming - a shameless scream - what did he care anymore - he never lost his cool - well, that wasn't necessary anymore - it almost felt good to scream - it was his only defense - so scream he did - like a banshee - "Why Gregory - why are you with these demons? "
In the chaos -in the wild flurry of out of control demons, Gregory grabbed Artie and in one giant swoop they - Gregory with Artie flew out of sight.
Artie thinks:
So Gregory is a villain. One of my best friends is my enemy. How can this be? I believe Jill. She's the first person I've met here in Google land that I feel entirely certain about. But what about everybody else? These impostors. Who are they? Why are they?
"They are demons" interjected Jill.
"Oh no, Jill - you too? You are hearing my thoughts?
"I only hear what is appropriate. I promise. I cannot hear what you wouldn't want me or anyone else for that matter to hear. Its just a short cut rather than speaking. You, too, have this ability."
"I do? Well. how do I turn it on?"
"Just decide. Go ahead do it."
"OK. .....nothing.....well, think.......ask me a question........think something."
Jill laughed then gathered a thought for Artie.
Artie laughed as he caught Jill's thought. "No, Jill, I never had a romantic feeling for you. That would have been like incest." They both laughed. "Oh my lord, I just read your mind!"
"See. And I continued to think things that you should not hear and you didn't - right?" Jill said.
"No, I didn't." a relieved Artie answered. "Hey, what didn't you want me to hear?"
"Never mind, kiddo." Jill teased.
Just then a booming wicked voice said "You two make me want to vomit!" It was Gregory.
"Why have you turned on me, Greg? We were best buds you and I" said a frightened Artie.
"Were! WERE!! That's the key, Art." Then a sound at a decibel unimagined, Gregory bellowed, "WERE!!!!!!!!!!!!"
It was like the universe was exploding. Artie's vision became blurred. His balance from floating along pleasantly with Jill became a whirl of motion. It was as if he were a pinwheel caught in a monsoon. He tried to see Gregory but could not. Only the booming voice was all that Artie experienced. He, then, attempted to read Gregory's mind but all he heard was laughter - a guttural joyless laughter - a hateful sound that just wouldn't stop. Artie tuned Gregory out somehow knowing he would hear nothing else from his former friend - former friend.
And Jill. Where was Jill? He tried reading her mind. What he heard was a faint murmur - a fading away - a drowning out. Jill was gone. He felt it as he spun violently. Jill, oh Jill.............
To bring things to a brighter mood, I dedicate this montage to my dear opinionated readers aka kindred spirits...................and now, just for fun...a non-sequitur montage.
Is George Zimmerman a racist?
Was Trayvon Martin up to no good?
Was the jury's decision based on racism?
Answers to these questions are what is driving America crazy. People are accusing, assuming and being downright ugly. Many plead for a gentler society yet act out in less than gentle ways. No one is happy - even those who agree with the verdict or at least understand why the jury came to its disturbing conclusion. We are all so conflicted.
Why?
Lets face it, this case has pushed every button on the dashboard. No one is exempt and I believe every one cares. Now, that is where I see great hope for us all. A national dialogue is happening. Although some of it is nasty - as seen even on this blog - it is still a very good sign that we as a people are moving forward - attempting to figure it all out. Unfortunately, a young life was sacrificed for this privilege.
The raised voices seem to be insisting that America is a racist nation. Well, America has that history. But I believe we must stop referring to ourselves this way. You are what you believe you are and, thus, hang on to that identity to some degree. I, for one, would rather believe America used to be a nation of racist but now is a nation struggling very willingly to change. Rather, America is a diverse nation of many stripes. Racists still are out there - absolutely. But then there are a hell of a lot of people like you and me. I believe this wholeheartedly. And you know what else - there are loads of people who are racist and don't even know it. They are so sure how they think - how they act is correct. They even use the Bible to back them up. These are the folks we should be concerned about.
A diverse nation also means levels of intelligence, sanity and ignorance. This will always be. The human animal will never evolve away from this.
So, we do the best we can. We MUST make sure we do the best we can. We allow ourselves to recognize our own racism - work on deleting it - and, above all, do not act on it. Keep it your dirty little secret and fix it. A prevailing sense of bigotry can no longer be tolerated. Fix it.
FIX IT!
