The boy’s hand came up to wave back and with eyes wide, he dumped his bike right at the end of her driveway. She raced to his side.
Before she could reach down to help him, he scrambled to his feet and pointed at her. “You waved to me,” he accused.
“Yes, was I not supposed to?” Mortals had so many rules.
“And now you’re talking to me.”
“Sorry. I had no idea there was a rule against speaking to children.”
Ben took her uncertainty for anger.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but if you tell me your name, we’ll be friends?”
“Adriel. And yours?” The boy was charming and naive.
“I’m Ben. You got a funny name,” he observed.
“Why thank you.” She injected a bit of sarcasm into her voice; charming only went so far.
“Sorry, Miss Adriel. Mom used to say I had the manners of a goat.” His cheeky grin was tinged with a sadness that puzzled Adriel almost as much as his suggestion that goats were unmannered creatures, when she had always found them to be quite civilized.
“Would you like to tell me about your family?” The grin he flashed only quivered a little around the edges.
“My mom and dad were really nice. They read me stories and tucked me in at night. Mom never made me eat all my carrots.” A tear trembled on his bottom lash. “Then one day I was riding my bike and something bad happened. I saw this really, really bright light. I was scared of the light, so I went home. Everyone was crying, but nobody would tell me why. I must have been a very bad boy because Mommy stopped reading me stories, and no one ever tucked me in again.”
The truth hit Adriel like a wrecking ball.
“Oh Ben, you must have been so frightened.” It was now up to Adriel to explain a very complicated concept to this young boy. “Can you tell me what you remember about the bad thing that happened?”
He seemed so small, so fragile, all she wanted to do was pull him into a hug; something she could easily have done in her full angel form, but probably not in her present state.
“I was riding my bike right over there,” he pointed toward the road between the cabin and Lydia’s house. “A car pulled up behind me, so I moved over like Daddy showed me. Then I got a headache and I didn’t feel so good. After a little while, I saw the bright light, and then I went home.”
Ben’s next sentence put the final twist on Adriel’s heart.
“Now, new people live in my house and I can’t find my mom and dad. I think something funny happened, because the last time I saw them, they looked different. You know—with gray hair and stuff. I can’t go home anymore, so I just ride my bike every day. No one ever talks to me. Well, until you.”
How was she supposed to explain to this bright-eyed child he was a spirit who should have crossed over a long time ago?
“Ben, do you know what it means when something dies?”
“I’m not a baby. I’ve seen plenty of dead animals in the road, and my grandma died when her heart attacked her.”
Kid logic.
“When a person dies, the angel who comes to help them cross over sometimes looks like a bright light.”
“Does that mean,” Ben’s mouth fell open, “I’m dead?”
“Yes. I’m afraid it does.”
“I’m a ghost. Like Casper. That’s why no one would talk to me. Because I’m invisible. That’s so cool.”
Expecting tears, Adriel was taken aback by the boy’s awed tone. Maybe he was just relieved at finally knowing what had happened to him.
“Can you tell me more about the day you saw the light?”
Ben sighed.
“I was riding my bike; I got a headache; I saw the light. That’s all I remember.”
“Think back; did you hear anything?”
“Already told you. There was a car coming, so I moved over into the grass on the side of the road. Then, I got the headache, saw the light, pushed my bike out of the ditch, and went home.”
Gently, Adriel suggested, “I think the car must have hit you.”
Ben closed his eyes, his face screwed into a thoughtful expression. He nodded a couple times while it all fell into place. His eyes popped wide open.
“You’re right; I remember now. I heard the car coming up fast, so I moved over into the grass and pedaled real slow. The engine got louder, so I turned around and saw this big round headlight right before I flew into the ditch.”
“Did you see what kind of car it was? Or the driver?”
“Just the big round headlight and a shiny bumper. Adriel, can I ask you a question?” At her nod, Ben asked, “Do you think my mom and dad died and went into the light? You know, because they’re not here anymore.”
Based on what he had told her earlier, it was a possibility.
“I’ll tell you what: you tell me your last name, and I’ll see if I can find out for you. I’m new in town, so I don’t know all the families here yet.”
Before he answered, Ben had one more question of his own. “Can I still go there? Into the light, I mean. If my parents are in there, I could see them again,” his voice sounded so plaintive Adriel’s heart hurt for him.
His question was more complicated than he knew, for reasons she could not share.
“I think so, but it might take a little time to arrange the details. I’ll do everything I can to help you.”
“Okay, my last name is Allen.”
A name Adriel did recognize. She should have put it together the minute she realized Ben was dead. She had just spent half an hour chatting with Pam’s long lost brother, and now he was looking up at her with no idea of the thoughts racing through her mind or that she now faced the dilemma of what to tell his older sister.
Why
