Page 57 of The Next Person You Meet in Heaven
“I worked here my whole life,” Eddie yelled from their midst. “Keeping rides safe meant keeping kids safe. And because they were safe, they grew up and had kids of their own. And their kids had kids, and their kids will have kids.”
He motioned to the sea of young faces. “My heaven lets me see them all.”
Annie’s cart lowered to the platform.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I’m not sure,” Annie replied.
Eddie turned away.
“Because I saved you, as tough as those years were for you, as bad as it was with your hand, you got to grow up, too. And because you got to grow up...”
When he turned back, Annie froze. Eddie was holding a baby boy, with a small blue cap on his head.
“Laurence?” Annie whispered.
Eddie stepped forward and placed her son in her trembling arms. Instantly, Annie was whole again, her body complete. She cradled the infant against her chest, a motherly cradle that filled her with the purest feeling. She smiled and she wept and she could not stop weeping.
“My baby,” she gushed. “Oh, my baby, my baby...”
She wiggled his toes. She tickled his little fingers. Hertears dripped onto his tiny forehead and he swatted them away, eyes dancing with alertness. It was clear that somehow, he knew Annie, as Annie knew him back. Her son existed. He was safe here in heaven. Annie felt a serenity that mortal life had never allowed.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Eddie.
Before he could reply, she was whisked into the sky, away from the amusement park and past the single bright star of Tala, into the dead, black vacuum of another universe. When Annie looked down, she saw her arms were empty, and she howled in anguish, feeling utterly full and utterly vacant, which is what having and losing a child is like.
SUNDAY,3:07P.M.
As the police car approached the hospital, Tolbert looked out the window at the long streaks of clouds. He said a silent prayer. This, he knew, would be the last moment hope could overshadow fact. Once he got inside, whatever he saw would be undeniable.
The car stopped. He took a deep breath, then opened the door, tugged on his jacket, stepped out quickly, and walked beside the policeman. Neither man spoke.
They entered through the emergency entrance. As they approached the desk, Tolbert spotted, through a side curtain, his assistant, Teddy, sitting on the edge of a gurney, with his head down and his hands over his ears.
For an instant, Tolbert felt relief.He’s alive. Thank God.Then came rage. He stormed through the opening.
“Whoa, hey—” the officer said. But Tolbert grabbed Teddy by the shoulders and yelled, “What the hell, Teddy? What the hell?”
Teddy’s mouth was an oval. His body trembled.
“Wind,” he muttered. “An electrical line. I tried to avoid—”
“Did you check the damn weather?”
“I—”
“Did you check the damn weather?”
“It was—”
“Why did you go up? Who were these people? What the hell, Teddy?”
The police officer pulled Tolbert back, saying, “Easy, pal, easy.” Gasping for breath, Teddy pulled a business card from his shirt pocket.
“They said theyknewyou,” he croaked.
Tolbert froze. The card was frayed, as if it had been rained on. Tolbert’s name was handwritten on the back.
