Chapter 8 #3
I took a long, shaky breath and let it out slowly.
“I’ve been praying hard enough for all four of us for years,” I said, mostly to myself.
“Ever since I met you all… loved you all. And I’ve worried deep down about what it means to love people who aren’t believers.
But now with Alice’s diagnosis, it suddenly feels so real.
Our deaths aren’t an abstract thought anymore.
It’s going to happen. Maybe not now, but someday we’re all going to die.
And it just scares me so much not knowing what my afterlife is going to be without you all. What if they don’t let you in?”
Marge snorted. “Come on, Doris. You know us. First off, I do think you’re going to drag us to Heaven with you, but if for some reason you don’t, you really think a little pearly white gate is gonna keep us away from you?
Nah. We’ll pound on that thing day and night until we annoy them enough to open it up and let us join you in the good place. ”
I chuckled despite my enormous and complicated feelings. “I can see you doing that.”
“God is going to let us in because you’re you and you’re good and you’re wonderful,” Sylvie said. “But Marge is right. If He doesn’t, He’ll let us in because we don’t take no for an answer and we’ll annoy Him to let us come play with you until He agrees.”
I laughed, which surprised me. Then I laughed a little more. I found my travel pack of tissues in my cardigan pocket and blew my nose.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That was a lot. I’ve never said any of that out loud before.”
“Don’t apologize,” Sylvie said. “I hate that you’ve been worried about this all alone and never shared it with us, but it also goes to show, once again, what a good person you are.
You’re not just worried for your soul; you’re worried for ours.
And Marge is right: If there is a God, and He’s half as good as you say He is, He won’t make you spend eternity without your best friends. ”
I blinked, looking up through watery eyes at the three faces of the women I couldn’t imagine living without.
“I think you’re so good,” Marge said, “that God is going to look at your record and say, ‘Fine, Doris. You can bring those three delinquent misfits with you. Just keep them away from the kangaroos.’”
I let out a shaky, wet laugh.
Alice laughed too. “They’re right. You’re our savior, Doris. You always have been. I don’t see why that would change just because we stopped breathing. You’ll save us. I know you will.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t have a big religious breakthrough,” Sylvie said. “But it just doesn’t work that way. And God should understand that He made us the way He made us, and it turns out He made us skeptics. Now, can He really fault us for that when the time comes to join you in the clouds?”
I wiped my face with a tissue. “I guess not. He did make you the way He made you, so maybe He understands why it’s so hard for you to have faith like I do. You’re just not built that way.”
“Exactly.” Marge pointed a finger at her. “You can’t fault your creations for behaving how you created them.”
“You really think He’d have a system in place for people like me? Who just happen to love people who can’t find their way on their own?”
“Doris, you’re our ‘get into Heaven free’ card,” Marge joked. “And thank God for that, because now I feel like I can do all sorts of shady crap and I’ll still get into the good place.”
“Marge! You wouldn’t!” I swatted at her, and the movement made my Viking hat fall over my eyes.
Marge lifted it back up and put it in place. “Serial killer? Nah. Too gruesome. Bank robber? Eh, I’m rich now. Oh! I know… I could be an art thief! Mission Impossible style!” She started pretending to creep around on a mission, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Marge, stop! Just because you think I’m your ‘get into Heaven free’ card doesn’t mean you can start being bad! Maybe God will let you in if you don’t believe as long as you’re good humans. So you’d better be good, because I’m already praying hard enough for the four of us!”
She laughed, then shrugged. “Fine. No jewelry heists. Partly because just pretending I was doing a jewelry heist hurt my knee. Cripes, we’re getting old!”
Everyone laughed, the mood lightening.
Alice slipped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “Thank you for worrying so much about us, Doris. I have no doubt you’ll be the one who saves me. Both from this cancer so I can stick around down here a bit longer and have fun with you girls and my soul so I can join you later too.”
The weight lifted, as if God himself had plucked it from my shoulders.
God, please let them be right. Let you be so merciful that you’ll gift them each to me. I promise I’ll be good enough for the four of us. I’ll believe hard enough for everyone. Just… don’t ever take them from me. Please.
A ray of sunshine peeked out from behind the clouds, and like a beacon from above, it shined right on us.
I clutched my chest as it filled instantly with hope, replacing the dread that had resided there. Tears prickled in my eyes as I choked down my sob.
“You okay, Doris?” Sylvie asked, her face illuminated from the sun.
“I am now.” My gaze moved to the sky as I pulled out my rosary and clutched it tight.
I got your sign, God. Thank you. Thank you so much. You won’t regret letting them in. You’ll see.
I tucked my rosary back into my shirt and straightened up.
“Well,” I said, smoothing my cardigan, “I suppose I owe you some camels and a petting zoo.”
“NOW we’re talking.” Marge stood up immediately.
“And just so you know.” I pointed at each of them. “You don’t have to believe. But you have to behave. Because I can only get you in on good behavior. I may have some pull, but I’m not a miracle worker.”
“Noted,” Sylvie said.
“We’ll behave,” Alice agreed solemnly.
Marge put an arm around me. “Well, we can’t behave too much, though, can we? I mean, what fun would that be? We only get one ride in these skins, so wouldn’t God want us to make the most of them?”
I heard her words, and as simple as they were, they struck a chord with me. She was right. God had put us here not just to pray and wait for our turn to pass through the pearly white gates, but to live… to really live.
I’d spent so much time on my knees the first part of my life that I hadn’t done much more than be a good wife, raise my kids, and go to church.
And I had been happy that way. Fulfilled.
But after they’d gone, in this new chapter of my life, I was seeing things I’d never dreamed of.
Going to places I hadn’t even known God had created.
And it was happening because of the three widows who caused me so much stress worrying about their troublesome souls.
Then, like the epiphany I’d hoped would hit them when they walked into the Ark, a bolt of lightning hit me.
God had sent them to me.
Maybe not just for me to save them, but for them to save me. To give me a second shot at living a life as large and loud as He hoped for me. To take risks. Have fun. See his world. Meet his creations.
Something bloomed inside my chest, expanding it for the warmth filling me inside.
They were my gift from Him. A reward for a life devoted to His love and light. And I was their gift, the one who would make sure to save their souls, because each one deserved their place at His side whether or not they knew it.
From now on, I would try to listen to His silent message. He’d sent them to me to live a bigger life, so I would push myself out of my comfort zone to live as big and bold as I could until He was ready to welcome me home.
I walked out of the gift shop into the sunshine, my widows around me, my rosary around my neck, feeling lighter than I had when I’d walked in.
Maybe God hadn’t sent me to Noah’s Ark to convert them.
Maybe He’d sent me here to get the comfort I needed that He would take care of me always, and that meant taking care of them.
As I walked out of the gift shop, I no longer felt I had to carry the weight of their souls all by myself.
God knew who they were and would protect them too.
They were impossible to miss, of course.
They were the loud ones rolling across the country in a big, noisy RV, making His little Doris laugh and smile harder than she’d ever done in her whole life.