Chapter Thirty Two

At the moment that I told Louis to let go, I was remembering something important. It was what happened when the tornado sucked me up....And when I fell out of the building...And when I crashed in the airplane. I remembered feathers. White feathers.

Louis was sweating buckets. The water below was boiling from the effects of the earthquake. I was singing a song by Loudon Wainwright III.

"There'll be lots of drinking in heaven
Smoking and eating and sex
What you didn't do in this life, bad for you
Will be totally cool in the next

and the Angels have ashtrays in heaven
St. Peter puffs on a cigar
Yes smoking's allowed, it's what makes all the clouds
and you don't have to sit at the bar

In heaven there'll be beer for breakfast
At lunch its Tequila and Wine
The soup served with dinner is made with paint thinner
and the morning hereafter is fine"

By this time, everyone in my group had made their way to the edge of the bridge.

"Johnny Touga is DEAD!" Shouted Bob.

"Let go Louis....It's time." I looked straight in his eyes. "Time to let me go."

His face glowed with amazement and his invisible hand released my wrist. He could no longer see the dangers below me. All he could see was feathers. A vast weave of long white feathers below me and enveloping me. Thousands of angels, pressed together in a rippling quilt took me on their collective backs. Amidst the waves of wings, if you stared intently, you could catch the faces of cherubs with large black eyes and a toothless grin. Their breathing made a song and the tune was unknown but familiar.

Soon I could no longer be seen by my friends on the bridge, and the ones that were real I wouldn't see again for weeks. The ones that I had created in my head I won't see again until I die.

Louis and Lisa became very close after this day. Someday they will marry and live happily ever after. Good for Louis. Good for Lisa.

I floated on the heavenly carpet in the path of the river. The song of the wing died to a whisper and they lay me down on the floor of a little row boat. It was used and the white paint on the sides had grayed and chipped. The boat had a name that was stenciled crudely on the bow. It said "Marty."

I took the oars and started powering the boat purposely forward. The water was now smooth and glassy and I began making good time. The trees that adorned the shores were lush and green. The angels were so far away and separated that from my vantage point they began looking like sparrows.

I could see a figure standing on the shore beneath an approaching bridge. It was a woman and she was waving her arms gently, asking me to come her way. I pointed the bow towards her head and rowed steadily in that direction.

There was a new song coming from the trees that draped the shore beneath the span. It wasn't like the song of the angels. It was even more familiar. It was "Louie Louie."