Fields of Heaven

Butterflies

Madison

          Andrew began to teach me how to channel my anger in order to physically move things and be heard by the living.  By the time I was able to successfully pull it off on my own, I aged four more earth years.  My body began to fill out; my hips were wider, my hair, longer, and I had urges that I couldn’t understand. 

        I noticed my attraction to Andrew almost instantly.  I began to do things to impress him—he was always so patient with me.  The night that I found my mother huddled over the bathroom sink, after taking too many prescription drugs, he hide the drugs because I was too weak and in shock to face her.  She wasn’t aging gracefully.  Her once smooth skin was infested with wrinkles and she continued to drink more and more wine.  Daddy still didn’t come home.  It hadn’t occurred to me before, but I realized that maybe Daddy and mama finally split after my death.  Mama was all alone, depressed and ready to pass into the in-between like Andrew and I.

“Tonight’s the night, Madison.  Are you ready?”

“I don’t know.  What if she has a heart attack?”  I was too afraid of communicating with my mother; she wasn’t the young, radiant mama I had left—she was now angry, bitter and wanting to die.

“She’ll be fine.  She needs to know that everything is okay.”

“I trust you.”  I smiled and he returned the favor before turning away from me nervously.  He set up a stack of plates on the table top and gave me the signal.

“Go!”

I thought about everything.  I thought about mama and daddy fighting the night before my death—I thought about hanging upside down with blood filling my mouth.  I thought about Tito Jackson, my puppy that I never got to see again.  Amongst all the sadness, I realized that I was angry and not at my parents, not at myself, but the cruelty and devastation that weaved its way into the beauty of life.

I ran straight at the table, picking up dish by dish and throwing them against the wall, “Andrew, look, I’m stronger!”

He chuckled, “yes, Maddie, you are!”

“My daddy used to call me that.” I didn’t think that it was possible and in the circumstance that we were both dead, I never entertained the idea, but I was falling in love with Andrew.

“Who is there?! Get out of my house!” Mama ran into the kitchen.

“Here’s your chance.  Think, solid.” Andrew pushed me closer to mama, and I thought, solid.

“Mama?”  My mama looked around, terror in her eyes.

“Get out of my house, whatever you are!”

Andrew whispered to me, “You have to want to show yourself to her.”

I knew that there were things that I wanted to say to her—things that I needed to say to her, so I mustered up all the left over human emotion in me and I spoke again. “Mama, it’s me, Madison.”

She fell to the floor.  As I walked towards her she scooted on her bottom until her back hit the cabinet door.  “My daughter is dead!  She died as a little girl! You devil, get out of my house!!”

And that is when I realized that she wasn’t looking through me, but right into my eyes.  “Mama! You can see me?”

“Stop calling me, Mama, I am not your mother!”

“Andrew, what do I do?” I looked back at him and he sighed heavily.

“Tell her the truth.”

  Mama had her knees tucked into her chest and she rocked back and forth.  She began to say the Lord’s Prayer and I knelt beside her.

“Mama, remember the time when I skinned my knees when I fell off of the chair that I climbed on to?  You told me that I couldn’t have animal crackers until after dinner.  I was so determined that I pushed the chair right up to the counter and climbed it so I could reach the crackers on the top shelf of the cupboard—tears stained her cheeks the more I spoke—and remember the first day of kindergarten when you brushed my hair into neat pigtails, but I came home with a giants bird’s nest?”

A long silence passed before she spoke; Andrew observed quietly but I knew that he hadn’t left me.  “How can you be my daughter? She died nine years ago, she was a little girl.”

“I’m still your little girl mama, apparently death is just as complicated as living.”

Mama chuckled between the deep sobs, “I’m so sorry baby. I’m so sorry for taking you that night and driving—I was angry and drunk and your daddy and I was going through so much. I’m so sorry!”

I went to touch her but I couldn’t quite feel her warmth beneath my translucent finger tips, “Mama, I need you to forgive yourself.  I can’t rest in peace until you forgive yourself.  My life has been everything that it was meant to be…I had a destiny that needed to be fulfilled—I looked back at Andrew, who finally revealed himself to mama; she looked at me, confused—God had plans for me.”

“I don’t understand, Madison. I just don’t understand—who is he? 

“That’s Andrew, my guardian angel.” I looked at Andrew and winked at him; if he had a heart beating blood through his veins, I’m sure I would have seen him blush.

“What about your daddy, have you seen him? I haven’t spoken to him in years…”

“Mama, I don’t know where daddy is.  I was lead here and this is obviously where I’m needed the most.” 

She reached out, trying to touch my face, “you’re so beautiful, baby. I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too mama, now take care of yourself and know that none of this was your fault.”

She began to cry again, “Don’t leave me again…I need you!”

“Mama, I’ll always be with you…in your heart and all around you.”

With that, Andrew grabbed my hand and we thought real hard: Heaven.