Page 24 of The Next Person You Meet in Heaven
The Second Person Annie Meets in Heaven
Over the centuries, man has created countless depictions of the hereafter; few, if any, show the departed soul alone. Despite the ways we isolate ourselves on earth, in our final bliss, we are always with someone: the Lord, Jesus, saints, angels, loved ones. A solitary afterlife seems unimaginably grim.
Perhaps this is why Annie chased the dog pack through heaven, without knowing where it might take her. She followed the animals up a sharp incline, over a ridge, and down into a valley. The sky above her shifted again, from mustard to plum to forest green. These colors, and all the firmament’s colors since her arrival, reflected the emotions of her life on earth, replaying as that life was replayed. But Annie could not know this.
Instead, she continued her pursuit until the dogs broke from their pack and spread like spokes of a wheel. The ground split into a checkerboard of small green lawns, each with a door of various design, wood, metal, painted, stained, some modern, some ancient, some rectangular, some rounded at the top. The dogs sat obediently, one outside each entrance, as if waiting for someone to come through.
“Annie,” a breathy voice said. “At last.”
Annie spun to see an elegant old woman. She looked to be in her eighties or nineties, with thick silver hair, a sloped nose, a tucked chin, and large, sad eyes. She wore a knee-length fur coat and a necklace dotted with colorful stones.
“Who areyou?” Annie said.
The woman seemed disappointed.
“You don’t remember?”
Annie studied her smiling face, the skin wrinkled and sagging.
“Are you...”
The woman cocked her head.
“... my second person?”
“Yes.”
Annie sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you, either.”
“Well, you were having a tough time when we met.”
“When was that? What were we doing? If you were in my life, why does none of this make sense to me?”
“Hmm.”
The old woman paced, as if thinking of options. Then she stopped and pointed to the blue horizon, where a car was heading towards them.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
***
Instantly, Annie was in the passenger seat. She was alone. No one was driving. The car sped through cottony clouds and glaring sunshine. The old woman ran alongside the vehicle, peering through the window.
“Don’t you want to get in?” Annie yelled.
“No, it’s fine!” the woman yelled back.
Eventually (although Annie could not measure time in heaven—it felt like everything was happening quickly yet taking forever) the car stopped. Annie got out. The old woman stood beside her, breathing heavily. There was a one-story structure by a dirt parking lot. A blue-and-white sign readPETUMAH COUNTY ANIMAL RESCUE SHELTER.
“I remember this building,” Annie whispered. “This is where we got my dog.”
“That’s right,” the woman said.
“Cleo.”
“Uh-huh.”
“This was your place?”
