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studeclunker
Posted : 12/1/2011 11:25:57 PM
I lay on my bed wracked with pain. Each breath was an exquisite pain. Yet my body demanded and screamed for each laboured breath. I could hear the doctor talking to my children telling them it wouldn#%92t be long now. The continuous cacophony of beeps and tones coming from the various machines in the Hospital room was so annoying. Someone was softly sobbing. All I wanted was for everyone to leave and shut all the buggery machines off on their way out. I felt really drowsy and began to slide into the blissful unconsciousness of sleep. Someone was whispering in my ear, “You know it#%92s all bunk. What proof is there of the existence of anything you can#%92t see, touch, or smell?” “GET AWAY FROM ME LIAR!” I screamed. Or did I? Nothing seemed to have form or the familiar solidity. Then I felt a kind of familiar rocking and jingling sound. Was this a faint memory of my cradle just before the end? Someone was gently shaking my shoulders. There was something heavy in my hands. “Wake up, you must wake up!” He demanded, “The horses are beginning to wander and the coach is tipping dangerously!” My eyes snapped open. The confusion of my change in location muddled my mind. There was a holly whip in my right hand, and what a whip! It was finished in some kind of varnish that seemed to have an inner glow to it. The handle was the purest gold I#%92d ever seen. It seemed to be almost clear, it was so pure. The lash looked like it was light itself! In my left hand were reins for a four-in-hand and an extra pair (red in colour) in the centre. I was sitting on the box seat, in the driver#%92s seat as a matter of fact, on a huge and yet indescribably beautiful coach. The fellow sitting next to me gave my shoulders another playful shake and laughed. “The horses, silly, see to the horses,” he chided me, “those leaders are really losing altitude, pull back on the red reins to gain more!” I reached in with my right hand and did as my companion directed me. The leaders rose up ahead of the team and I noticed for the first time that the whole team had wings! My God, they had wings! Looking at my companion on the box revealed that he did too. He was a beautiful creature, not a Man, but with a Man#%92s form (well, also with the folded wings). He laughed at my patently obvious surprise. “Keep them steady, I#%92ll be right back,” he said and then dove off the side of the coach, both sets of his wings shooting out like a huge, feathered, parachute. It occurred to me that there was singing, laughing, and animated chattering going on inside the coach, and on the seats behind me. I wanted to look around but had to keep my attention on those most beautiful of horses. I was able to keep them steady with ease. They required the least of effort, their mouths like butter, as old Lionel used to say. Poor Lionel, would I ever see him again? Right about then my companion appeared carrying another passenger. The individual was unconscious, though glowing every bit as brightly as the angel carrying him. It finally dawned on me that the person I had been sitting with and lately departed from the coach, now returning to his place on the box, was an Angel! My erstwhile companion gently deposited his charge inside the coach and rejoined me on the box. He grinned at me whilst he did so, “Well, you seem to be a bit more aware now,” he remarked. All I could do was stare at him open-mouthed. “Hey,” I exclaimed, “I must be dead to see an angel…” then all the joy of the moment drained out of me replaced by fear and I felt chilled to the roots of my soul, “and this must be the Death Coach,” I whispered and almost dropped the reins and whip. “Steady there,” he cautioned me, “you#%92re not on that coach, we call this one the Victory Coach,” He reassured me and went on, “Well, the first is not quite correct, and the second is,” he replied smiling to my earlier comment, his eyes twinkling. “It#%92s not requisite to be dead in seeing an Angel. As for the Death Coach, yes this is one of them at least.” At the mention of the other Coach, the light in his eyes seemed to dim with sorrow and pain. Then he smiled wryly and the light returned to his eyes, “This one#%92s not much like the Coach in Darby O#%92Gill, is it?” he quipped. “Obviously, Disney and the author of the story didn#%92t get it right,” I returned grinning. Then I saw the same shadow pass over the features of the brilliant creature next to me. “Oh, he got it right, my friend…” he said sadly, “yes, sadly, Walt got it right.” “So that#%92s what the other Coach you mentioned looks like?” I asked with a shudder. Then something occurred to me, “Waitaminit, Angels go to the movies???” “Go to the movies?” he asked laughing, “Well sometimes, however often we actually get to see them made too!” He got a rather dangerous look to his face whilst he fingered the hilt of a sword at his belt, “You wouldn#%92t believe the battles fought at those places. It#%92s a pity that He who must not be spoken with wins most of those nowadays.” “Well that#%92s a big surprise seeing what comes out of Hollywood any more,” I replied without thinking, and then quickly continued with, “But he loses in the end anyway, so why the worry?” “Because people#%92s souls are lost in those battles, that#%92s why,” he growled fiercely. Then his countenance brightened again, “but you#%92re here on the Victory Coach with me, so why look at what#%92s so gloomy? Give those red reins a good hard pull and let#%92s get going,” he ordered with a huge grin. I did as I was told and found the horses respond instantly with a huge pull of their wings. The Coach rose sharply and it seemed as though we were rising through a cloud cover. Then we passed through a lawn onto level ground. The horses were bowling along at a slapping rate toward the most beautiful of fortified cities I#%92d ever seen, the brilliantly green lawn washing up to the base of the walls like a sea. I noticed with surprise that the red reins were gone. “Yes, they do that when the coach is up here," my companion remarked, guessing at my surprise. "It#%92s not till it leaves again that they reappear,” the angel explained. “Just pull it up at the gate. You#%92ll need to be welcomed by the keeper of the gate and there are some others waiting to greet you.” I kept bumping my right elbow against a horn basket attached to the driver#%92s seat rail. I glanced at it and beheld a gorgeous horn with a wonderfully inscribed bell. However, not much more than a quick glance could be spared as we were approaching that gate rapidly and the horses needed my attention. As we got closer I noticed at the gate stood a slightly portly man with a big bald head. He had a beatific expression on his face, which kind of reminded one of a genial old uncle who had been greatly anticipating one#%92s arrival. He waved as we approached and I noticed an Old English sheepdog gambolling around him and the gate. We pulled up with the coach and the angel turned toward me and smiled again. “Well done,” he complimented me, “they told me you were a coachman. When you get down, say hello to the near-leader, he#%92s been waiting a long time for you.” With that strange comment and no explanation, he jumped over the side again and proceeded to help the people out of the inside of the coach and down from the top seats. The Gate Keeper approached the Angel, who bowed his head slightly in respect, and I heard him say, “Well done Gabriel, I was concerned for that one.” He nodded his head upward and glanced in my direction, winking. “That#%92s all right sir, our prayer cover was there even in the hospital room itself, “ Gabriel replied. I just sat there dumbfounded at what I was seeing. The beautiful horses, the gorgeous surroundings and Coach, and all the young beautiful passengers (every one of them dressed in snow-white) and the silly Sheepdog gambolling about and barking, licking anyone she could. Then the near-lead horse turned his head right around and whinnied at me. “Oh don#%92t worry about the horses,” the angel assured me laughing. “they#%92re quite capable of taking care of themselves, no fear there!” I almost didn#%92t hear what he said as the shock of recognizing my now long dead horse was the near leader! Throwing down the reins and leaping from the seat as the angel had done, I hit the ground and rolled over twice, then scrambled to my feet. The Angel, laughing, helped me to my feet and I threw myself onto Rocky#%92s neck, weeping with joy. The dog was jumping up and licking both my face and Rocky#%92s as well. Then I recognized her as my beloved Nana! Looking around I saw my parents, wife, and son running out the gates of the city. My mother looked as I had only seen her in pictures, when she was a girl. She embraced me, with tears in her eyes and said, “I wish you could stay.” “What do you mean,” I asked, a cold dread building in my heart. I almost expected to turn and see that dreadful other coach waiting for me. But that couldn#%92t be the case… could it? But no, the Angel was standing behind her shaking his head and smiling. It was the Gate Keeper who spoke though, “Ah, so little faith that you might think that coach might be waiting for you,” he said, revealing that he knew, or guessed, my thoughts, “no, it#%92s not quite time for you yet. However, we had Gabriel pick you up as the one who is not mentioned was attempting to steal you away before your time.” I noticed that the Gate Keeper had a circlet of gold, with an inlaid band of silver and diamonds on his head. He was crowned as if a king. Then I noticed that my beloved were also all crowned with those circlets as well. But the Gate Keeper was speaking again, “You should be going back momentarily and likely won#%92t remember much, if anything, of this. However if you do remember it, do so as a gift and bolster for your faith, as it was wavering a bit.” As he said this, I began to hear a lot of other voices, softly at first, then growing as if a volume control was slowly being turned up. “But I don#%92t want to be there, I want to be here with you,” I begged him. “All in His good time, my lad,” Paul assured me. His eyes showed pity as he looked at me and faded from my sight. “No, no, I want to stay!” I shouted as they and the beautiful city faded away. I heard Paul#%92s gravelly voice faintly call back, “All those whom are his will return. Rest in the fact that no-one can drag you away from him as you belong to him alone!” “I have a stable heartbeat.” A calm voice remarked. “He appears to be coming around.” Someone replied to the first. “Sponge please.” A female voice said, and then I felt something cool on my forehead. “You can disconnect those contacts and attach them to the monitor.” The second voice remarked. A hospital room swam into fuzzy view. “How are we feeling Mr. Smith?” The nurse asked leaning into my field of vision. “I told you no heroic measures!” I weakly grumbled back at her. “Sorry Mr. Smith, we#%92re required to administer at least minimal CPR,” she explained. “I#%92d rather go home,” I replied softly. “Mr. Smith, there#%92s no question of that,” the Doctor said severely. “Someone in your condition needs the professional care of this facility.” “I wasn#%92t talking about the Lodge Doctor,” I told him testily. The Nurse and Doctor exchanged a confused glance.
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