“So—you’re saying that back home, back on the earth plane, me, and Ever, and Buttercup—got in the way?” Instantly ashamed by the way my voice suddenly cracked, but still, the whole idea of it made my insides go all weird again.
But Aurora just smiled, as did everyone else, nodding toward Celia who said, “Of course not.”
“Your parents and grandparents love you, and they wouldn’t change a thing!” Samson nodded.
“But Here, you have your own guide, which frees your family up to live out their destinies. It doesn’t all end with death, you know. We have tasks, things to accomplish, learning to do. Your parents have found their place, and now you’ve found yours. All is as it should be,” Royce said, pressing his hands together and bowing toward me.
“But—what about my house? And—and my dog—” I shook my head, unable to finish, unable to understand how it got to this point. At first I was so excited, sure I’d won the afterlife lottery by getting to go back, only to have it all ripped out from under me as everything familiar slipped away too.
“You’re free to come back and visit between assignments,” Aurora said, glowing in the most beautiful, mesmerizing way. “And Buttercup,” she smiled, “is free to travel alongside you.”
“Really?” I cocked my head to the side, wondering how Buttercup might feel about that. “Does he have a destiny to fulfill too?” I asked.
Only to be met by the sound of Royce’s deep, hearty laugh when he shook his head and said, “Dogs are a gift to mankind. They are happy and joyful and loyal by nature. They are pure, positive energy and teach by example. That is all that’s required of them.”
I nodded, doing my best to take it all in. It may not have been what I’d first thought, or even what I’d hoped for, but still, it could’ve been a lot worse.
My thoughts interrupted by Aurora when she said, “Riley, how about we let go of your past and look instead toward your future. What do you say? Are you ready to make that leap?”
And before I could answer, before I could do much of anything, Buttercup ran out from behind the red velvet curtain, tail wagging like mad, licking my face, and knocking me down in the way that always made me laugh. And by the time I finally got him to calm down, everyone was gone.
Not even waiting long enough for me to respond.
And that’s when I realized
the question had been rhetorical.
My place had been determined.
Whether I liked it or not.
9
I stood outside with Buttercup beside me, both of us on high alert, waiting for some kind of sign.
Both of us equally clueless with absolutely no idea where to go, which way to turn, or what to do next.
And while it may seem weird for a person to look to their dog for guidance, the thing was, Buttercup’s the one that led my family to the bridge. He’s the one that leaped across first. So, with that in mind, I figured he might have some kind of unique, canine ability, some kind of yellow Lab instinct. Like a dog-only radar for these kinds of things.
But nope, he just sat there with his big brown eyes and pink nose, blinking at me as I gazed all around, thinking how a little instruction, a little guidance of some sort would’ve been nice.
But nooo.
The Council just vanished, just completely disappeared.
Who even knew where they went?
All I knew was that between me and Buttercup we hadn’t a clue how we were supposed to get from Here to There.
Was I supposed to just wish it—just desire it like everything else in this place? Or was there some kind of regularly scheduled transportation, like a bus, or a train, or even some kind of wings we could rent?
All I knew for sure was that the bridge I had crossed over to make the trip Here was strictly a one-way-only kind of thing. And I know this because I happened to look back the second I’d made it to the other side.
I wasn’t nearly as committed to the crossing as I’d pretended to be.
Only it was too late.
It’d completely vanished from sight.