Flying

The sparkle of the stars shone in the twinkling midnight sky, accompanied by the glow from the moon that hung in the sky like a painting. The glow from the moon spread its light like a wax coating on the snow below. The snow covered Zippidy Park in a magical blanket of imagination that no human could ever make. The two figures walked mitten in mitten, as the slush of their snow boots left a trail of footprints behind them. The semi-cold breeze tapped on the couple’s pom-poms that were on their hats that stuck on their heads like a popsicle. The two were captured in an already perfect setting, as the florescent colors from the male’s ski jacket added even a bit more brightness to the picture. The girl wore a jacket as blue as the sky on a clear sunny day. The couple stopped and looked at a snowman that some kids had built earlier that day.
Ian turned his face towards Heather’s. Love circulated in his blood as he looked at her. He had meet Heather only three months ago at Our Fathers Table, the soup kitchen at St. Mark’s church. Her jet-black hair matched with her deep blue eyes took Ian out with a hard punch to his heart, when she first walked into his vision. During that first meeting, while he poured hot tomato soup into brown colored soup bowls, he tried to strike up a conversation with the 5 foot 4 inch tall Heather, as she handed out blood red apples to the patrons who were partaking in the generosity of the servants of the Lord, trying to feed their beloved master in the form of those who were hungry. The conversation ignited with a bright spark, as Heather reciprocated the conversation with such stamina that her outward beauty seemed to glow even brighter in light of her personality.
Heather returned Ian’s look with an even more astonished look of overwhelming love. She glanced into his deep dark brown eyes. It wasn’t hard as he stood at exactly the same height as she did. His hat covered up his beautiful blond curly hair. She had meet several new friends over the past year, but never before in her young life had she actually been what has been described as, ‘being in love’. After only serving with Ian three times at the shelter, he had asked her out on a date. An offer she politely refused. She liked Ian, but wanted things to remain at a friendship level, for fear of what might happen. Not long after this the two found themselves attaining the same bible study. Between the soup kitchen, the bible study, and the nightly visits afterwards to the Beer Works, a local restaurant within walking distance of the rectory in which their bible study was held, Ian and Heather began to develop a more personal bound. But it was still only at a casual friendship level.
But this was only a temporary situation. One night pressed for lack of finding one of his friends to hang out with, Ian drove to the mall. He was bored and restless. He was also in some emotional and spiritual pain. Spiritual issues began to parade around his mind like an angry mob. He needed a quiet place to pray and thing. The only place that he knew that would provide this solitude was the Carmelite Chapel located in the Mall. He descended into the lower levels of the mall leaving behind the noisy world of shoppers up above. He knelled as he walked in the entranceway, blessing himself as he went down with a genuflection before Christ in the tabernacle. The chapel was empty. Just Ian and Jesus.
He sat down in one of the pews and began to be absorbed with the quietness that surrounded him like a heavy fog. Ian knew that it was usually in quietness that God speaks to his people. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his rosary beads. It was a cheap pair of blue colored rosary beads he had bought at the Chapel bookstore a few days ago. He seemed to buy himself a new pair about every two weeks, due to the fact that he always seemed to lose them. As he went to bless himself with the small blue plastic crucifix, a voice shattered the silence with a calm beautiful voice that did not take away the peace from the atmosphere around him.
“Mind if I join you?”, the voice said. It was Heather’s. Surprised to see her there, but delighted none the less, Ian invited her to join him in prayer. Heather often came by the chapel to pray, and just happen to find Ian there that particular night. It is always customary to end any activity, including religious activates with fellowship. Fellowship means food. A Friendly’s restaurant, which was located right across the upper entranceway to the downstairs leading to the chapel, served as their place of fellowship and food. It also served as an entranceway into a deeper level of friendship. Rosary‘s and ice cream began to become a regular occurrence to the them. It soon expanded to roller skating, bowling and movies. After about 3 movies, Ian reached out to Heather to grasp onto a deeper relationship. He seemed to drop some popcorn in Heather‘s seat during a screening of the latest Tom Hanks movie. He reached his hand over to find the popcorn, only to find it in Heather‘s hand. He tried to grab his piece of popcorn but managed to grab Heather‘s whole hand instead. She seemed to grasp her hand around his as well. For the rest of the movie it stayed that way.
Three months later, she found herself still hand in hand with the most wonderful man outside of her father, her brothers and certain priests, she had ever known. Could she really love Ian? Was she capable of doing so? She had never given herself the chance to really fall in love someone, save Jesus. Her whole life, she had always settled for something lower then love for the sake of what she thought was happiness. But that happiness was instead, a delusion on her part; a delusion that turned her life into a living death filled with painful pleasure.
“There is something I want to share with you.”, she said hastily.
“Don’t we share everything?”, Ian replied with a calm smile. “ I want to know all about you Heather.”
“This is difficult to share. I do trust you enough to tell you though.”
“What’s the matter?”, he asked as she seemed to look away into the nighttime sky. “Is it very terrible?”
“No. Yes! It starts off bad, very bad! But ends up good, very good.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The story may be a little hard to swallow.”
“Go for it’
It started a little over a year ago. I remember. I remember the smell of the little room on floor 57, of Nathan's luxurious hotel paradise, stunk of booze, pot and cheap sex. I usually looked forward to my evenings, cause it was then that best sex any woman could ever have was given to her by the man who knew just how to hit the right pleasure spots.
“Come on, baby, let me stick my magic wand into you.”, the bundle of overaggressive hormones said. He started to unbutton my shirt with ease as he had so many times before. I can remember the first time a boy touched my upper chest. It had been in the back seat of Larry Walton’s 1989 Toyota station wagon, the night after the school dance. My heart and emotions started to fly, as his hands went where no male had ever gone before. I can remember as a little girl being pushed in my tire swing, lying down in the tire with my arms spread out, pretending I was flying. I loved that swing, cause it let me fly. Ever since watching Dumbo, I have had a fantasy of being able to fly. I used to draw pictures of me flying. When he touched my chest, it made me feel as if I had just taken off into the clouds.
It felt so good that I let him continue it, date after date. I knew from my upbringing that it was wrong. That it was sin. I didn’t care. I loved the pleasure. I loved the attention. I loved being loved. I could provide pleasure for boys, and it gave me such satisfaction to know that I could do something to please people. Who was I harming? Nobody. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was harming somebody. I was harming many people. I was in reality stabbing my dignity and self-respect with a huge butcher knife and I was by my actions telling others they had a green light to go ahead and do it also.
Then one day I throw a grenade at my soul and it exploded. I decided that I had waited long enough and let Billy Reardon have his way with me. I was 17 1/2. My spirit throw up inside. It puked out guilt and shame. It hadn’t been as glamorous as I thought it was going to be. Why were all these negative emotions encircling my heart? I was supposed to feel joyful and giddy. I KNEW even though I slept though Sunday School, I KNEW even thought I had ignored what was going on in Mass, I KNEW even though I avoided like the plague, the bunch of Jesus Freaks at Youth group, I KNEW that I had sinned. But the pleasure was so good, it let me fly. I couldn’t give up my pleasure; I couldn’t clip my wings. I told my conscience to go to hell, and in doing that I went there. Why should I confirm my body to a religion that loved to oppress others good times?
It wasn’t long after this first taste of pleasure that I wanted more. It was Gary who helped me increase my pleasure with pot. I got high even before I got drunk. Even though I would get drunk many times in the coming years, I never enjoyed it as much as getting high. The first time I got high was the best night of sex I had ever had. In the back of my mind, a voice kept crying for me to clip off my wings, least I be burned by the sun. Greater flights of love were waiting for me. I would have to make sacrifices in order to get there, sacrifices that involved giving up pleasure and facing the reality of how I was leading my life. But I couldn’t face my face in the mirror of truth. Instead I increased my bodily pleasure with more and more sex and more and more drugs. I continued to glide in the cloud of denial.

At 18 1/2, just after graduating from high school, I moved out of my house. My house as I saw it was run by a police state. After catching me in bed, in my parent’s bed of all ironic places, with Steve, with Cocaine spread across the room, my parents ripped my head off with a lecture geared to make me see the errors of my ways. The last bit of my conscience that was struggling to come back into my heart but instead it was thrust out the door and shoved into a deep ditch. They didn’t yell, but pleaded with me, begged me, tried to reason with me to come back from the dead. Back to the simplicity and innocence of my childhood days. They went on and on with touchy Hallmark sentiments that caused my heart to weaken until they brought up the word that made my heart fall asleep with utmost distain. Jesus. I told them what they could do with all their religious bull crap. This loving God wanted to take away my wings and oppress me. I would fly, and flew out of my parent’s living room and into another world, I would never have dreamed of soaring into. That was the last I was to see of them for about a year.
It’s always nice if someone can get paid doing what they love. I decided to go into business for myself. Doing what I knew I could do best. Doing what I knew would make money. Doing what I knew would make enough money to make me fly high. Making men happy. Giving men pleasure. That made me happy. I believed that prostitutes had been given a bum rap. They had been pictured as creatures more worthless then pond mud. But so many people turned to them for happiness and fun. Actors, politicians, and even religious men of God invested in their services. It seemed hookers were more worthy of praise and honor then most in society, if you measured them by the clientele, both the famous and non-famous, who came to them like starving children looking for food. And I wanted to help feed these hungry souls. I wanted to feed them with the same bull crap that I was feeding myself. I held to the conviction that the bull crap was a gourmet meal. False beliefs lead one to digest a poisoned reality.
I became a hooker and I was proud of it. People caught in the midst of sin usually become inflated with pride. I became known as the best hooker in town. If people wanted a good time they went somewhere else, if they wanted a FANTASTIC night they would never forget, they came to me. One night, one of my customers was so impressed with my performance; he offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse. His name was Sam. He worked for Nathan Primrose, the biggest pimp in the city. Nathan turned me from a small time hooker, to the biggest prostitute in his little empire of sin and pleasure. He also turned me into his number #1 girl. I felt no guilt and shame. They had died long ago.
The love and security of a safe and loving environment had been given up for hard drugs and loose sex. Coke and pot made me feel like I was floating in heaven. I was flying like a bird when that little powder went up my nose. When this combined with the nuclear explosions of screwing men, I could soar higher than any person could ever dream of. I loved to fly. Until that day!
I was so frustrated and confused, and also uncontrollably angry, from what I had seen that day. Also frighten. I had seen two things. One of them was part of a past I thought had just disappeared; the other was part of a present I could not ignore. Both the present and the past started me thinking about what I wanted to do with my future. These events exposed my heart to the light of day, or what was left of it. The heart I thought I had was not really one at all. It was a dark cloud that poured out acid into my blood stream.
My conscience that I had thought was dead, gone and buried was resurrected that one day. It was brought back to me by a group of three individuals I didn’t even know existed. I happen to be walking by the very park we are walking in now. I usually didn’t walk in the park, but just happen to be passing that way. I hadn’t taken a walk for a long time and thought I needed it. No real reason. I looked over at the swings and flashbacks of my childhood days started to come back to me. The love and security of my father’s strong arms pushing me on the swing caused a small ripple in my heart. A flashback of soaring through the air caused my emotions to fly. They started to fly higher then they had ever flown before. They flew higher then any drug or any sex could ever give me. It was the flight of innocence and peace. Peace? Until this time I realized that I had not in all my years of giving pleasure to men, have any peace.
“Come on Heather; don’t look at this scene. It’s all a lie.”, a voice whispered into my ear. “There is a bundle full of love, waiting for you back at Nathan's.” Love. For the first time since I had lived at home, I also felt the absence of love. I loved the pleasure. But that hadn’t been love. Nathan loved me. Or did he. Didn’t he just love what pleasure I could give him? Didn’t all the men love me for that?
Surly it was not wrong to give people pleasure. God created pleasure didn’t he. Didn’t he want us to enjoy pleasure? Of course he did. He created the human body to enjoy others bodies. It was at that moment that the voice that had been whispering to me started to chant more rapidly about pleasure. The prompting if I had not been mistaken seemed to be leading me away from the thought of God.
Usually I tended to push away any thoughts of God that crossed the path of my mind, if I didn‘t I might go crazy from guilt or boredom. I was always more interested in toys, or books, or movies, or shopping, or boys, especially boys, then God. God was boring. Jesus was boring. Sunday school was wicked boring and so was Mass. My parents seemed board whenever they mentioned Him. I thought my parents talked about Him a little too much, but the truth was that it was very little and the little was quite enough for me to hear about Him.
Be nice to people. Love one another. Be Pure. You didn’t need to go to Sunday school to learn that. My parents tried to rear me in this philosophy, probably while I was still in diapers. They didn’t often connect this wisdom from the source from which it came; that being Jesus. Why bring up God, if you can be good without Him? The only time they seemed talk about Him and the only time they prayed is when we eat dinner together. The only other time they would bring Him up is whenever I would misbehave. We went to Mass together as a family, sometimes. Sometimes it was more important to go to a baseball game or a dance recital. It was good to go to Mass because you did God a favor, but if that favor conflicted with your personal enjoyment of life, God could wait another week.
When my siblings and I were all kids our loving parents shared some bible stories with us, usually on Easter and Christmas. They seemed to avoid any mention of Him the rest of the year. My parents seemed to believe that we got all the religious instruction we needed at Sunday school and youth group, so there was no need to talk about it at home. Whenever any one of us did happen to bring up some religious questions they seemed to shrug me off with a yawn. God seemed more boring to them then exciting. He didn’t seem real to them, only a concept. A nice concept that made you look a little more well off because good people seemed to believe in God. But the kids, who believed in God, lived no better then the kids who did not. In fact some non-church goers seemed to be more loving and kind then those who went to church. What difference did God make? Not much. Thus I was never really interested in God. I would always turn Him off. But not this time.
The more I thought about justifying casual sex, the more I thought about God. “If God gave us the gift of sexual pleasure, why didn't’ he let us use it with out guilt or shame.” Thoughts that I had fought off hard to oppress began to buzz around my head like a bunch of flies. “If God is so good, the pleasure must have come from Him. And if so, doesn’t he have the right to regulate how and when we use that gift?” My hand went into my pocket as spiritual conviction started to drench into my burnt out soul, which was flickering just a tiny bit. My shacking hand touched a rolled joint. I snatched it out of my pocket and stuck it in my mouth. I tried to find a match to light it up. A little trip up high would make me forget, what I hoped was a temporary case of insanity.
I found my matches, and pulled them out of my pocket in such a hurry that they flew up in the air and landed 3 feet in front of me. I bent down to pick them up. When I raised my head, I saw three children on the swings. They were all around 2 or 3 years of age. I found that funny, as I had not seen them come up past me or around me. I had not heard them before now either. Where were their parents? Usually kids that age had parents around. I had always loved children. I even hoped to have some of my own someday. “My body was made to have children,“ I thought. Again my mind began to slip back to thoughts of God. I shook my head slightly, trying to shake these thoughts away. I put the matches and the joint back into my coat pocket. As much as I loved getting high, I knew it would be wrong to do it in front of children. It was the first time in awhile that I had given up pleasure for the sake of someone else.
I walked towards the children with a sense of concern of where their parents were and with a sense of wonder I could not explain.
“Hello!”, I said. The kids on the swing saw me and beamed with smiles. The kids then did something so unexpected, that it caused me to blister with chills, like I had never known before nor since. They got off the swing and ran over to me and hugged me. All three of them at once.
“It’s so good to see you,“ one little boy said.
“Oh yes indeed it is. “, said the little girl next to him.
“My joy is being tossed around like a dancing king.”, said the second little boy.“
“David right?”, inquired the other little boy.
“Yes indeed.”, he replied.
Uneasiness crippled me like someone blown up by a landmine. I had never felt so perplexed in all my life. My instinct was to let go and face these unknown children, but their arms held on tight to me, not even giving me the option of letting go. No arms around me had ever felt this good. Not all the sex or drugs in the world could equal the love I felt in the arms of these little ones. One grip held on with that in mind. The other held on with a sense of familiarity never known. I knew these children, but had never met them. It was such an oxymoron. I wondered if I hadn’t smoked a joint before this happen. The kids let go. They looked at each other.
“Don’t worry Heather, you’re not high.“, the little girl said to her.
“I’m glad to know that.”, I reported back. The view from their tiny faces was so pleasant that the remark from the little girl had passed right over my head.
“Want to swing with us?“, inquired the little boy?
“Yes Roger, I will.” Why did I call him Roger?
“ That’s what you would have named me, so that’s my name.“ The other little boy started to hum the theme to the twilight zone.
“That’s what you feel like is happening now to you, don’t you Heather? Let me assure you, this is real. This is really happening..“
I started to look very pale. I began to feel very faint. I wondered how Pete cold read my thoughts. I then wondered how I knew his name was Pete.
“Come on Heather, come swing with Leslie first. She misses you the most.” She hugged her two brothers with a passionate hug and a heartfelt kiss.
“You two are always trying to out love me. We all miss you the same. They love to give me the first in everything.“ I then found myself on the swings with Leslie. For the next 1/2 hour I played with these mysterious children. We went on the monkey bars, the slide, the jungle jim, and the other amusements in the park. We took a walk and went to feed the ducks. The ducks actually swarmed around us. Ever since I was young, I have loved ducks. I had even once written a paper about them in school. When I was real young. When I was innocent and could still think that a duck held wonders. For the first time in my life I was able to pet a real live duck. The duck actually sat in my lap as if it were a cat. I was for too overjoyed to realize what was happening didn't’ co-exist with the normal laws of everyday living.
“Leslie, Pete, & Roger!“, came a calm sweet voice that although was not shouted, was loud enough to be heard, “It‘s time to come home now.“ A woman dressed in blue jeans with a blue long sleeve shirt, and a blue veil around her head came over to us.
“Hi!“ I said in a friendly greeting. “Hi yeah, I was just playing with your kids.”
“Yes I know. I hoped you enjoyed playing with them. They had been looking forward to it for a long time.” “Questions began to flitter around in my mind, as all the children ran over to me and hugged and kissed me.
“Bye!”, they all shouted. “We love you!”
“I love you too.”; I heard my self-say. It was along time since I had uttered those words. Of all the man I had slept with, I had never uttered those words, not even to Nathan. I got up and looked at the woman in blue. Peace radiated from her face like a nuclear explosion.
“Wh.... Wh.... Why did you leave......”, I started to say.
“I wanted to give you a chance to play with your kids. This is the request that my Son has granted for you and for them. It has come from them as well as a number of others, who love you very much. “
My kids??? “I’m sorry miss, but I don’t have any kids.” I began to swell with chills and goose pimples.”
“My daughter.”, said the woman in blue. “Soon and very soon you will understand what has happen here to day and the choice that has now been reawaken for you. Listen to the graces that have been poured out for your soul. Do not resist them any more. Call on Him and he will release you. Many are praying for you my daughter, but it is up to you to accept or reject my son. Remember that He as well as I love you very much.”
“As do we,” echoed the children. This was getting to be too much for me. I wanted to run away, but fund my legs glued to the ground.
“Bye Mommy. We love you.” A dam that had been built tight inside of me burst into tiny pieces. The reality of my situation hit me harder then a sledgehammer, causing an ocean size flood of tears to flow out of my eyes. Mommy? I had never had any children. All that sex and never the natural consequences of it. More memories came flooding into my mind, seeping into my heart.
“It’s a child, not a choice. “, came the voice of an anti-choice zealot as I walked into the Repro clinic for the first time. “I was given a pamphlet, trying to take away my choice. I took it just to shut the kook up. “Do you know if it’s a girl or boy, Mom?” He had called me Mom. Mom of a piece of tissue. I looked at the literature, basically because it was in my hand. I saw the picture of that piece of tissue at four weeks. Funny, it really didn’t look like a piece of tissue. It looked more like a creature. What I wasn’t sure. It looked a little bit human. I didn't have long to look at it before the guard took the literature away from me. “I was looking at it.”, I thought to herself. “Maybe it’s better that I don’t.”, I said as thoughts that what I was doing might actually be wrong. It’s my body. It’s my choose. I made two other choices to the one I was making now.
‘It’s a child, not a choice.’ That phrase came back into my mind. I looked up to see my children. My Children? Is it possible? But the children were gone. The woman was gone. Who was that woman? Was it a dream? I tried to shake off the whole experience. The joint was still in my pocket. I wasn’t high.
“Heather!” The woman called.. “I am sending a sign your way. She will remind you, of the truths you have seen here today. “
“Sign? What Sigh?”
“Are you all right?”, a voice said from behind me. A fourteen-year-old girl stood erect over me.
“Yeah. I’m just looking for a coin I lost.”, I said tears still dripping out of my eye sockets. “And I’m darn upset about it too. Just can’t have enough money in case you want to buy a soda or something.” I was babbling nonsense in order to not tell her all the many different emotions that possessed me.
“Yeah.” , she replied with nervousness in her own voice. She didn’t seem too convinced that I was not ok, but was too concerned in her own pain to care about mine. “Your Heather aren’t you? Nathan's girl.”
“Yeah. How do you know Nathan? I said with curiosity. My tears started to stop as my mind frame started to evolve into a different emotional state. What the girl told me next over the next half hour shocked me to the core. It also reminded me about what I had experienced that afternoon had been indeed real. I now knew what I needed to do. The choice of my lifetime had been given to me. I’m not sure if I was ready to reform my whole life, but was ready reform at least one part of it. I knew what I had to do even if I didn’t know how I was going to do it or how it was going to come out. I actually had faith that I would be lead in the right direction. With my body partially turned I started walking slowly in the pitch-blackness of my life towards a faint small light glimmering not to far away.
The person I thought was God was really a demon from hell. This truth had been jogging around in my head for the past 6 hours since I left the park with that girl. I thought and thought about what I was going to do. I couldn’t seem to comprehend what I could do. It’s hard to rip your heart and lungs out of your body. I started by telling Nathan Primrose that I didn't’ want to screw him anymore. Hearing this was like listening to Hitler say he really loved the Jews. Nathan not believing me, stuck his big powerful, dirty hands on my soft tender breasts and started to remove the piece of cloth that was strung there. “Oh, Nathan.”, I said with the enthusiasm of a voice that was experiencing utmost joy in my body, while sticking my hands down to a familiar object he loved in cherished more then anything else in the world.
“Hey, that’s the babe I know and love!” , he stated as he was fully turned on. I reached toward the mouth that I had tasted many times with my now rough angry lips. Just when he thought passion was going to set in, with all my might I pressed down with my teeth on his lips causing sounds of pain and pools of blood to pour out of his mouth. My hands that had been smoothly caressing his pleasure center, suddenly, with my long sharp red fingernails, dug deep into its skin with fierce intensity. After I was finished, my hands unleashed him and my legs led him to the floor with a swift kick to the stomach. I stood over him shocked that I had actually done it. I had never before nor since ever acted with violence towards anyone. I had planed on leaving Nathan’s world quietly, but the look of that 14 year old girl combined with the look of Pete, Leslie, and Roger and the look of the woman and the look of..... my parents caused my emotions to leak out into the actions I had just taken. As Nathan howled in pain trying to hold both his mouth and his balls, I expressed with whole-hearted emotion,
“I’M SICK OF YOU AND EVERYTHING THAT YOU DO!” He just stood still, trying to pick himself up while looking very perplexed.
“Heather, you, you’. Yo..... should not have done this.”
“BUSINESS WAS NEVER AS GOOD UNTIL I CAME ALONG. I HELPED MAKE YOUR LITTLE BUSINESS BOOM.”
“I could throw you out right now and you would be nothing!”
“I COULD WALK OUT THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW AND YOU WOULD BE NOTHING. I’M SURE THAT PEOPLE WOULD RATHER PAY TO WATCH LITTLE KIDS SCREWING ADULTS THAT HAVE THEM SCREW ME. You bastard! They’re little freaking children!” Nathan didn’t know how she knew, but didn't’ like the fact that he knew his little secret.
“I’m going back into business for myself!” I stated enthusiastically. Whether I was actually going to do so or if I was only saying it to make him jealous and angry I didn‘t know. All I knew was I wanted to hurt his pride. “I will not be part of demoralizing little children into letting you stick your so-called magic wand into them.” At this point he picked himself up all the way, still gasping with aches of pain. “Does the big rich bastard not have enough whores to turn him on, that he has to look in kindergarten for it?” How did she know? One of the little brats had squalled. “ By the way. Congrates on being a dad.” An anger and fear pulsated through his body. “I won’t let you kill her child, like you had mine killed.” In all the time he had been using women’s bodies, no matter what age, he had never fathered a child. He had made sure of that. Of the few he had accidentally impregnated, he had made sure that they had abortions. Heather was one of them. He didn’t know and Heather didn’t tell him about his latest child that was growing inside of that 14 year old’s body. It would be his first child born into the world. Heather would see to that. Heather would not let her make the same mistake that she had made.
“You had a child? How could you? I never kn....”
“You’ll never get your hands on them, or on any other children. They’re in heaven with... With.... Jesus and Mary.“ He looked into my eyes with a deep puzzlement. He probably began to wonder if I was on some new drug he hadn’t heard about. I wondered the same thing, as the statement that I uttered was the talk of a crazy person. But how could insanity give me such peace that I could then see the light of truth rising in the distance and sanity such turmoil that it had covered my life with the darkness of lies. I looked back into his eyes. I saw a little boy that was scared that his toys were about to be plundered from him.
“You’re a perverted sick man.”, I whispered.
“You know you’re right!” , he responded with a very big smile, while putting on his coat. “Poor little children. I must be a very wicked man. You know what they say. You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. And once in a while some good eggs become bad, and must be thrown away into the garbage disposal.”
Then it happen! He submerged his hand into his slick expensive coat, and pulled out a sub-atomic machine gun. My heart had never beat so fast in my life. The sweat gushed from every pore of my body, a miniature raging flood. He was actually going to kill me, his prized slut. The little balls of metal sprang from the barrel and pounded into the glass like a diver into a pool. Screams that I could not hear darted out through my air passage as the glass shattered. When he was done, he stood like a statue and looked at me with pure hate in his angry bloodshot eyes. I stood wondering why I had not been blown up. I started to think that the shots had been a warning for me not to interfere in his business. It was then the body that I had caressed and loved...(loved???) lusted for, grabbed my frigid body and put it above his head.
“So you want to mess with me, you little bitch?” His hands strung around my veins with fierce intensity. My arms started to turn pale as I felt the blood in my body bash into the enclosed area where the pressure was being produced. The cold wind bit my body like a rabid dog, which fused fear onto my skin.
The prayers for my life poured out of my mouth like a raging fire. The words went straight to hell. I figure that I would soon enough join them. His mouth moved sternly, his chapped lips enumerated each angry syllable.
“You took the short way up to the top, and you’re going to take the long way down. Join your little bastard’s in heaven.” He paused.
“Oh that’s right. Heaven’s up and your going down. Say hi to my buddy Satan would ya. Bye Bye Bitch”!
He then pushed my body forward like a basketball through the broken window. The unrealized pressure of my arms felt a raging flow of blood flow back into my fingertips as the screams now came out at full force, but they were as inaudible as if someone suddenly killed the volume on their TV set. My body left the security of semi-stable ground and hit with force the freedom of the open air. The broken window started to fade as the gravity of the earth sucked me towards it. I was so panic stricken, I never noticed the cold trickles of red pouring out of the unseen freshly opened areas on my body. The accompanying glass stuck inside my wounds like cement on a wall. The world was silent, save the thoughts forming in my head. Hours of visions flashed by my mind all within seconds. All the drugs I had shoved down my throat and all the man I had screwed, SCREWED, not Made Love to, SCREWED, SCREWED. And most of all the wonderful caring family who had given me so much to hold unto, that my heart refused to grasp it.
The memory of my Sunday school classes, that had once bored me to tears, actually produced some.
“What was it, that they said?”, Jesus loves me. He would forgive me? HE DIED FOR ME!” These were some questions that ran through my mind faster then the rate I was falling. The fear had stared to engulf my spirit like a raging cancer. The ground started to look more and more familiar to me. The thought of Leslie, Roger and Pete entered my mind, and I swore I could hear their pleading voices urging to me to grasp the lifeline that was being handed to me. The woman with the mention of her son skidded to a halt in front of my thoughts. Her son? Does she mean Jesus? Which would make her.... Isn’t that what I told Nathan? The God I ignored as a child was the main focal point my attention was focused on. Did I actually believe in God? Boring God. I didn’t know whether I believed in God or not, but Superman was not going to fly by and save me. With that thought in mind, I forced energy deep with inside me heart I had never known before. Then with all my heart, mind, body and soul, I blurted out the words like a raging foghorn that shattered the huge silence of the empty world around me.
“JESUS HAVE MERCY ON ME!!!!”
As soon as those words were said, a thought poked into my head like a needle, pricking it to the point where it hurt. With ten stories left to go I immediately obeyed the command and stuck out my arms out like a bird and directed my body weight upwards. Like a fighter jet, I soared up and up, breaking through the strong barricade of the buffeting wind.
I was going back the way I came. The shine of the glass sparkled with a silverfish type of color as I went upwards. Within seconds, the broken window came back into view. I looked quickly and noticed that there were more men, and some were dressed in bright colored blue. The vision lasted but a moment as I continued to climb upwards towards the clouds. The tops of buildings and the streets far below resembled a huge model that could be knocked over with one swoop of my hand. The rate of speed continued as I rushed into the clouds with all my might, popping out of them like a scuba diver popping out of the sea.
As I broke through the soft cotton balls, I let out a new scream. Unstoppable laughter and tears pored out from inner reaches of my once cold and darken heart. My sounds of happiness were so incredibly loud, I’m sure that all the people in the gleaming lights below had no trouble hearing me. My unconscious mind told me that the juice of life was draining into the air. The physical wounds that I had never known, along with the spiritual ones that I have known too well, continued to drop like a boulder, after I had been untied to the rope holding me to it.
After circling about for a few minutes I realize just what I was doing. I was doing something I had only done in my dreams and something that most people only dream about. Instead of actually dreaming it, I was doing it. The pressure of excitement pushed my face as wide as a canyon. The coldness of the wind warmed my body with tingles of tickling chills that went about my spine like a racing car. Without drugs, money, or sex, I hot high!
I WAS FLYING
The next fifteen minutes were the best that I have ever known. I moved my body, bouncing from cloud to cloud. There was nothing holding me up, there was me and then there was the air. With the touch of a button, my thoughts moved me through open space. I dove in and out of the clouds like a young bird at play. I did not know where I was going, nor did I care. Someone was planting instructions into my brain, leading me somewhere safe.
My speed continued to move me swiftly through the air. The beauty of the starry moonlit sky started to fade as I approached a more warm and familiar sight. This old reality, which had only been a shadow of light earlier, began to shine bright in the nighttime sky. It was the flight back into innocence. Relief approached to meet me as I realized I would have a second chance to receive and this time give love; (I was going home). The ability of my flight enabled me to sore, past my troubles and fears.
I began to wonder how could I have done this? How could I have flown? I than felt a brushing of soft cuddling feathers flow smoothly against my cheeks. As I looked to my right, my jaw felt out of place, my mouth opened as wide as it could. I saw the biggest wing I had ever seen in my life. The other wing faded into the light as well. I suddenly felt a presence under me. And as I looked the figure looked back, with the most peaceful smile that I have ever seen. I hugged the figure tight with all my might, crying like a baby. A valve of love drowned me with tears as I realized the wonders of the world around me. The light that was showing in my heart came into the material world. My vision caught sight of a light in a building. I flew down towards the light. As I slid into view of the house, a man stood on a balcony smoking a cigar. He was dressed in black and had a white collar on. As he puffed away on his cigar. I stood there floating in front of the balcony. He stood there looking at me, wondering if I was real. I floated unto the balcony. I stood there looking at him for a moment. Never in my wildest imagination could I ever see my self-overwrought with joy at seeing a priest
“Father.” I said, as the priest stood there frozen with awe. “No I’m not an angel. There is one with me. He has brought me to you.”, I stated with my feet firmly on the ground. I then put aside all the marvelous phenomenon that had happen to me to pick, so I could experience something entirely more amazing. Something that really needed to be done.
“Ok,” he said. He checked his head. With a smile full of tears I uttered.
“Faith may I..... May I.....” I began to weep buckets again. His face changed from concern and puzzlement to that look of concern that earns him the name Father. “It’s been long time since I’ve been to confession.” I stood there on the balcony, my face full of tears. He took me into his arms and held me. Like before in the park with the children I wept and wept and wept. He just held me for a few minutes like my father had many years before. Never in a long while had any man held me with such love. No lust. No wanting to engage in sensual pleasure. He released me and then said,
“Come with me into my study. “ For the next 8 hours I poured out the dirt from my soul and had the grace of God poured in. After performing surgery on my soul, he gave me some healing medicine. Jesus in the Eucharist. He gave me his life and I gave him mine. In the words of the many non-Catholics, ‘I was born-again.’ Or as Father Luke had told me, ’Reborn Again.’ I had been given the life of Christ at baptism but had it slowly taken away from me long ago by my refusal to maintain that life.
Father Luke took me to the Little Sisters of St. Claire convent where I was refreshed in mind, soul and body. These good nuns helped restore me back to health. Women who had given over their entire bodies to God. I was in awe and amazement that anybody could give up this pleasure for a lifetime, but after all that I had been through I thought they had been saved a ocean full of regret and shame.
I pondered many days the event that had saved me. The ability of being able to fly. Even though I had been granted a gift, I did not deserve, a gift that enabled me to do what no human can do, it was not the miracle. The miracle was that I had been raised from being as dead as a corpse too as alive as I was after I was baptized as an infant. The God I had never known was now as familiar to me as oxygen is to my lungs. I had been grafted back into God‘s family. But the journey wasn’t over.

6 hours I sat on the bus wondering what I was going to say. I walked 3 miles from the dusty little bus stop to the quiet little neighborhood in which I had grown up. I looked at the small little one story house that seemed to be miles away, even though it was twelve feet in front of me. I sat there for five minutes wondering if I could bring myself to ring the doorbell. But something in me helped me to pick up the heavy weight of courage and my finger touched the doorbell and pressed.
The sound of the dong seemed to ring out in the air around me. The sound of the TV hummed in the background, and seemed to mix with the sound of the dong. The door creaked opened. The man I hadn’t scene or talked to for almost a year stood there in his bathrobe. The look on his face was of complete surprise. We stood there looking at each other for what seemed like hours. It was like we were standing in the middle of a photograph, we were so still. My emotions began to make my body tremble, but not with fear, for that had continued to fall when I was pushed out of the window, but with deep sorrow. For the forth time, (or was it the fifth time, I had lost count,) in the past few days, tears started to drip from my eyes. “Daddy!” I said in a child like voice.
BOOM, my father’s arms were around me faster then the speed of light. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”; I said crying as equally hard as I had earlier. “Lori!!”, he called. “Lori, our lost sheep has wondered home.“; he said crying as much, if not more then I was. My mother and my two brothers and my one sister at the time were just finishing the last decade of the Rosary. The mystery of the mediation was ‘The finding of Jesus in the Temple‘. My whole family had never started to take God seriously until I had left home. The only consolation to their grief was Jesus. And now after months of heavy praying, God had answered their prayers. My whole life had been one constant marathon away from Jesus, but I like the prodigal son, had finally decided after I had almost lost the race, to walk back along the road I had made. I like him had traveled back home.
“Believe what you want, but that really happed!” Ian stood in front of her and gazed deep into her beautiful blue eyes. He seemed to drown in them as his heart was hypnotized by the intense beauty of the spirit within. His lips were drawn directly into hers. It was the first time that Ian and Heather had kissed. They fused together for 30 seconds of the best kiss either of them ever had or ever will have. The blood in Heather’s body seemed to boil with overwhelming excitement, as a new emotion was involved with the small but everlasting moment of exchanging one breath with another person that had not been present in the past. Slowly the mouths parted from one another as they clutched each other in a secure hug of passion and romance, as streams of joy poured out of their eyes and froze on their faces. She hadn’t had a romantic kiss in quite a while. And the difference with this one as oppressed to any other kiss, is this one was done with love and commitment. In the past the kiss would have been followed with sex. But that was a desire of a different woman. A woman that died a year ago. As the never-ending bundle of love kept laughing and crying, two drawings of snow angels lay nearby. They were untouched by footprints. Ian and Heather never saw the two pair of wings of their creations gently move their wings up and down.
@ Copyright 2001 Fom4life Mark Wilson