Where These Souls Go

Chapter 7

Everybody knew Beck. That's, at least, what Cara told me.  Among other things.

She was an aspiring actress, trying to make it big by taking a role in a huge production. That's when one of the stage crew members messed up. Apparently, One of the light fixtures above the stage wasn't secured on quite right. One of the stage crew members attempted to fix the problem in the middle of the play, accidentally dropping a bigger piece. It hit Cara just right, and just like that, she was out. It had been six months.

She asked about me, and how I got to where I was. And, the contrary to earlier, it was now as clear as day to me. I explained about the call, and then the crash, and sliding into the bone chilling water. I even felt myself shivering as I told my story. Cara listened, nodding silently as we walked, and I noted how great a listener she was. Everyone here was talkative, but when it boils down to it, they had ears like an elephant.

And memories, I soon realized, as Cara told me just about everything she learned about everyone here. She told me about Philip, a quiet man who plays the cello and works as a sale rep at a well-known business. He has a daughter named Juliet, and a son named Michael. He got into a car crash like me. He's been out for two years.

Then there was Samantha, a young waitress in a popular joint, where is she slipped on some water and hit her head. She was only 17. She had planned to go to some big fancy college in California, to chase her dream of becoming an actress. That was before her accident eight months ago.

Then there is DeAndre, a man shy of 30 who is fairly active and loves to live. He was out skiing when his accident happened. He had a girlfriend who he wanted to propose to. Her name was Heather.  They had been together for year and three months. He had been here for only three weeks.

I listened patiently, and she told me of all the stories. Time seemed to pass slowly, but then again, who was I to tell?

After what seemed like hours, I felt like I knew everyone here. I knew their names, their stories, and why they were here.

It made me so comfortable knowing that I was not alone. I made a note to thank Cara for that later. She was a better guide than Beck, that's for sure.

Beck. That's right. I wanted to find him.

I turned to ask Cara, when she suddenly stopped walking and gave a slight nod forward. I followed her gaze to the top of a mountain. There, standing with his back to us, was the one and only Beck. His tall, slender silhouette contrasted the bold, bright, red sky that he was staring out into, his arms crossed in front of him and -- I imagine -- a focused expression set on his face. I mumbled a quick "thank you" to Cara, as I silently headed over to Beck, careful not to startle him. As I made my way over, I kept in mind everything Cara told me about him.

"Beck is different from the rest," she had told me, "he's lost so much, and we all know so little about it."

"How do you mean?"

"He's the type to keep to himself. He learns everyone else's stories so that he can help them along the way. Like how he did for you--"

"--but," I interrupted, "he told me it was never his intention. He told me he was walking on the beach when he saw me,"

She had shaken her head, smiling a little as she looked down at the floor. When she looked back at me, her eyes glistened.

"He's too proud to admit anything," she laughed, crossing her arms and kicking a stone, "no, of course that's not the truth. Beck is special you see, he's been here the longest of anyone I've spoken to. He developed a system so that all the newcomers are welcomed and calmed down when they first get here. He's got the ability to sense when somebody new is going to arrive. Beck..." she sighed, "Beck knows everything about this place. Got me wondering just how long he's actually been here," she shrugged, "yeah, Beck is stubborn, but he's got heart. And, as far as I know, pain harboring inside him,"