The Other Side of Heaven by Jacqueline Druga Page A

holidays were forth coming. It just so happened the
day of my brief death that I had a hair appointment for color, cut and
highlights. It was a morning appointment, so I was hopeful that I had time.
When my sister heard I wasn’t cancelling the appointment, I joked that if I was
gonna meet our brother and maybe even our maker, at least my roots wouldn’t be
bad. She retorted that our brother Jimmy probably would comment on them.
    He would.
    Brad, the young man sent to be
the escort for my ethereal journey, seemed somewhat amused by my need to keep
my hair appointment. I did tell him, “I know your instructions are to call 911
as soon as I drop, but don’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “For starters, it’s all supposed
to last for three minutes on this side, right? I don’t think the emergency
responders will be here from the time I drop to when I return. If I don’t
revive, well then, it was either my choice or my time. Right?’
    “Right, but …”
    “No buts. Plus, my insurance
doesn’t cover ambulance service and at this point I don’t need another bill.
Promise me you won’t call.”
    Brad groaned, then reluctantly
said, “I promise.”
    “Besides, more than likely we’ll
be in my living room.”
    I couldn’t have been more wrong.
    The hair shop was buzzing and
filled with people. As a regular, everyone knew me and they asked who Brad was.
    I explained he was much too young
to be my boyfriend and stated with a joking manner that he was there for when I
briefly died to make sure everything went well.
    As I sat in the chair getting the
last of my highlights on, it was a joke of the whole salon.
    “She doesn’t want an ambulance,”
Ricardo said. “I don’t either. Those highlights will make her bald if they
don’t get rinsed.”
    No one took me serious and I
suppose my joking was a way to cover my anxiety.
    After they finished with my color
and highlights, I was put in the chair and under a dryer to process for thirty
minutes. Ricardo was still one of the people who used dryers. Brad never was
far from sight, and I leaned back and closed my eyes. The hum of the dryer and
the warmth was soothing and usually I dozed off. As I thought I had at that
moment, when I heard laughter. Male laughter. I opened my eyes to see what
Ricardo found so funny and I was no longer in the salon.
    I stood in the hallway outside my
Brother Jimmy’s apartment.
    I was there, I had left. No
flashes of light, no big hurrah, just from spot to another. Was I dreaming? No,
I wasn’t. I was certain.
    I reached up to see if the foil
in my hair followed me to the afterlife. It didn’t. In fact I was shocked to
feel how short it was, then I remembered, I had short hair when Jimmy died.
    The laughter flowed from my
brother’s apartment along with soft playing music. I felt nervous and excited.
But why there?
    “That’s cool, Jim.” The one voice
said.
    Freddy. Jimmy’s best friend.
    Wait… I thought. Was it the night
of his death.
    “Hey, dude,” Freddy said. “Did
you pop the one in the chamber?”
    “Uh, yeah.” Jimmy replied.
    Oh, God. No he didn’t. He didn’t
pop the one in the chamber, that was what killed him.
    Instantaneously it hit me? Was I
in heaven or did I time travel. Maybe my gift or quest was to stop it.
    I grabbed for the doorknob and
barged it, trying to cut off the fateful bang of a gun.
    The apartment was empty. I felt
my soul sink.
    “Barb?”
    Gasping out I spun to the voice
of my brother. Jimmy looked amazing, perfect, just as he was the last time I
saw him. Healthy and handsome. I rushed into his arms, embracing him
wholeheartedly.
    I didn’t want him to let go. Then
it hit me. Perhaps he wasn’t even aware.
    “It’s good to see you too. Really
it is.” Jimmy pulled gently from our reunion. “Have to tell you, when I was
told one of my siblings was coming to resolve my death, I thought for sure it
would be Peter.”
    Our brother Peter took Jimmy’s
death so hard.
    “It’s me.