Shimmer

brothers, a former slave whom I recognized from that sadistic bowling game of Rebecca’s father’s, placed his hand on my arm, and when our eyes met, what I saw practically brought me to my knees.

And I watched in amazement as he took my place, knelt down to the ground, and attempted to lift the bubble right onto his back.

At first I didn’t understand the gesture. Didn’t understand why he’d chose to burden himself like that. But then, when all of the other slaves joined in, it suddenly began to make sense.

They had forgiven her.

They had released themselves not just from her manifested world but also from their centuries-long connection to her.

By holding on to their anger, hatred, and calls for revenge, they’d remained enslaved well past the time of their deaths.

Their true liberation, their true path to freedom, lay in their ability to forgive.

A forgiveness that didn’t absolve Rebecca or her father of the horrible things they had done, but rather freed the slaves of their connection to those horrible things, as well as their connection to those who’d committed them, allowing them to finally move on.

Then, just when I was sure I’d seen it all, Prince Kanta shocked me even more when he said, “Allow me.”

And a moment later, he’d manifested a beautiful, luxurious litter—like the kind Cleopatra rode—and together, they placed the globe upon it, immune to the sight of Rebecca kicking and screaming and sending great plumes of ash all around. As a whole group of former slaves stepped forward to grab hold of the shiny, golden rail that ran along its sides, as Bodhi and I joined hands, closed our eyes, and manifested that soft, golden light that leads to Summerland.

The two of us standing back in awe, watching as the very people who were enslaved by Rebecca and her father carried her right through that veil in what I will forever carry in my head as the ultimate picture of forgiveness.

23

When we got to Summerland, they lowered the litter onto that vibrant, buoyant grass. Each of the slaves taking a moment to place their hands on the glass and leave her with a blessing of peace, before Prince Kanta stepped forward to say, “You have liberated my brothers and sisters. Because of you, Miss Riley Bloom, they are now freed not only from their physical enslavement but, more importantly, from the enslavement of their own minds. I speak on behalf of all of us when I say that we are eternally grateful to you for showing the way.”

I quickly shook my head, fought to work past that choked-up feeling in my throat, and glanced down the long line of them as I said, “I only introduced them to that glimmer of silence. They grew it from there.”

Even though I meant it, even though I knew they’d truly done the hardest work of all—quieting their minds of all the anger and hatred and judging and chaos, along with their very justified rage regarding their own horrific pasts—I still couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of myself.

I also couldn’t wait to get in front of a mirror to see how an act like that might’ve affected my glow.

But that would have to wait till later. Much later. At that point, I still had a whole lot of souls to cross over.

So when Prince Kanta peered from me to the bridge—a rather ancient, rickety-looking, splintered-wood-and- rope contraption—I just nodded and said, “Yep, that’s it. Paradise awaits you on the other side. Only they don’t call it paradise, they call it the Here & Now—but, anyway, you’ll learn about all that soon enough.”

“And Rebecca?” he asked, turning back toward the globe. “Will she ever find the peace to free herself?”

But I just shrugged. I had no answer for that. It was pretty much anyone’s guess.

He motioned for the group to go before him, and after shaking my and Bodhi’s hands, after kneeling down to pat Buttercup and Shucky on their heads, they squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, straightened their backs, and made for the bridge in what looked to be a seemingly endless procession.

And even though I knew there would be plenty more souls to catch in the future, even though I knew I’d soon rack up all kinds of interesting assignments, in possibly even more exotic locations than St. John in the Virgin Islands, somehow I knew that this would always stand out in my mind.

Not because I’d insisted on exercising my free will and going it alone.

Not because I’d had no idea how it would go over with Aurora and Royce and the rest of the Council (something I hadn’t really stopped worrying about despite the success of my mission).

But because there was a really good chance I might never again witness something as powerful.

And as they continued their march, the bridge swaying and dipping but still strong enough to hold them all, making their way past the heavily fogged and shrouded halfway mark, this particular part of Summerland, an area that was always wet and misty and shrouded in haze, became as bright and warm as any spring day back home on the earth plane.

It actually began to glow.

I turned to the prince, seeing him hesitate, gazing at Rebecca with great concern as she continued to scream and rant and rave. And what bothered me most about seeing her carrying on like that was I knew it made the prince feel like he’d failed.

“This is not good,” I whispered to Bodhi. “I really thought she might come around once she saw this place, but, apparently, she’s more far gone than I thought.”

But Bodhi just looked at me, straw bobbing up and down in his mouth as he mumbled, “Maybe.”

I squinted, having no idea what that was supposed to mean.

“It means, we’ll see.” He shrugged, clearly taking advantage of the fact that his thoughts were completely unavailable to me.

I focused back on the former slaves, and as soon as the last one had crossed, I watched in complete and total astonishment as Bodhi reached toward the former Snarly Yow/Black Shuck/Phantom Dog/Galleytrot/Shug Monkey/Hateful Thing/Hell Beast-turned-tiny-yippy-breed-of-indeterminate-mix, grabbed the ball that lay at his feet, and aimed it straight toward the bridge. Smiling in triumph as it pierced through the haze that obscured the middle and little Shucky went yapping and yipping, and chasing right after it.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” I cried, gaping at him in complete disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that—I can’t believe you forced him like that.”

But Bodhi just looked at me, shaking his head as he said, “No one forced anyone. That dog acted upon his own free will. He chose to go after that ball, just like you chose to exercise your free will when you chose to go after him.” He bobbed his straw at me. “Free will is a powerful thing, Riley. Sometimes it’s the only way to realize your true destiny, though it does require a fair bit of trust—in yourself, in the universe—as I’m sure you now know.”

I nodded, carefully collecting his words and storing them away for later. Knowing I’d want to go over them, review them, but at that moment, all of my attention was claimed by Rebecca.

Claimed by the way her jaw dropped, the way her eyes went impossibly wide, the way her face wore an expression of both outrage and surprise as she watched her dog happily sprint to the other side.

“Where’d he go?” she asked, her anger edged out by wonder.

“He went home,” I said quietly, looking right at her. “And you’re welcome to join him if you want. The choice is yours.”

She glanced between us, and the way she looked at that moment, well, all I can say is I was filled with hope for her for the first time that day.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, she still looked a little red around the cheeks, a little grim around the lips, but still, it was pretty clear that the fight was beginning to leak right out of her.

She stood facing us, locked inside a world she’d already spent far too much time in. Her fingers beginning to unclench, her hands to uncurl, as she stared into the glowing golden promise of light and whispered, “Oh my goodness … It’s all true!”

I admit, I totally misread that at first.