Beyond the Fog

Dying felt cold, which totally sucked. I had never thought about what I hoped death would feel like, but I could now say with quite a bit of certainty that I had hoped it would be warm. Or warmer. This feeling was like the crisp morning of a spring day except without the promise of afternoon warmth. The sight of my dead body on the side of the road wasn’t great either, a little morbid if I’m being honest. At least they had covered me up already.

The other driver was sitting inside the ambulance, with an empty, dead expression on his face as the paramedics prepared to take him to the hospital. I frowned, feeling heavy in my heart for the man. It hadn’t been his fault, a January snow in western Colorado meant the roads were treacherous. I had been going too fast, and when he had started sliding himself, I had overcorrected to miss him and plowed my car into a tree on the side of the road.

After the firefighters had gotten my door open with the jaws, paramedics rushed in and I heard phrases like “blunt force trauma” and “no saving.” I walked over to the ambulance, and stepped up inside settling myself next to the man. He wasn’t majorly injured, a cut to the forehead and bruised ribs. Tears still streamed silently down his cheeks, and I felt my own eyes water. I don’t know how though, since I was dead. I wasn’t sure if it would do anything, but I settled my hand on his arm. I just wanted to offer him comfort and let him know somehow that it was okay. That I was okay. At first I couldn’t see a difference, but after a few moments, he seemed to sigh and his shoulders sagged. I watched him take a deep, shuddering breath with his eyes closed and knew that at least he had a little peace.

The paramedics were about to shut the doors, so I patted the man on his arm and jumped out, my shoes making no sound on the pavement. I didn’t know what came next, so I plopped down on the pavement and just watched. It didn’t take long for the coroner van to show up, for the police officers to finish looking at things and open the lane back up. I overheard that a tow truck would be coming to retrieve the cars involved later this afternoon. But I continued to sit on the shoulder, an uneasy feeling starting to creep in. Was I stuck in this dead/undead limbo forever? Could I go somewhere, or was I forever trapped in the place I had died? I had gotten up and started to pace back and forth, making sure to steer clear of the bloodstain a few feet from me on the asphalt. While I was pacing, I looked up and saw a shadowy figure coming towards me. The whole world around me was foggy, so I couldn’t see the person very well until all of a sudden, I could. It was a little boy, maybe about 10 or 11 years old with dark honey hair and brown eyes.

“Hello Katie.” He said, his voice gentle.

“H-hi.” I replied, stammering. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the boy seemed familiar to me. Like I had seen him before but not known him. I shook my head, puzzled with the feeling. “Have we met before? Who are you?”

The boy smiled kindly, “I’m just here to help you move forward.”

“Um. Okay.” I didn’t miss that he didn’t exactly answer my question.

“Walk with me?” He asked, extending his small hand out to me.

I hesitantly took it and was surprised when it was warm and soft. It instantly eased my anxiety, and we started walking away from the scene of my death. As it was about to disappear, I looked behind us catching one last glimpse of my car and the spot on the asphalt.

“Where are we going?” I questioned tentatively.

“To the next place.”

“Like, THE next place?”

His laugh sounded like bright wind chimes. “No, just a transition place.”

“Huh” Was all I could manage, and I remained quiet as we walked. I couldn’t see anything, but felt a strong trust in the boy I couldn’t explain. After what felt like a long time, and also no time at all the fog cleared into a scenic lake surrounded by green grasses and purple irises.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, because I knew the place. It was a lake in Missouri my family had spent many summers at when I was a kid. I looked around, and there was the tire swing and the picnic tables to my right tucked under huge cottonwood trees.

“I know this place!” I said excitedly.

The boy smiled again and led us to a picnic table.

“How did you know?” I asked as we sat down on the smooth wood seats.

“I didn’t, but you did. I only guide, and you decide.” He responded cryptically.

I shivered and rubbed my arms, “could you do something about the cold? I shouldn’t have to be cold and dead.”

He laughed again and I found that I enjoyed making him laugh. He stayed silent so I ventured, “so, what’s next?”

“You will reflect and decide.”

“Decide what?”

“What is next.”

My brows crinkled in confusion, “what does that mean?”

The boy shrugged and smiled again, and then pointed off to the right of our table. A light had appeared near the trunk of the nearest tree, next to the tire swing. I couldn’t pinpoint what color it was, it seemed to change. One moment it looked white, like I would have expected but then it would change to a light pink or blue.

I glanced back at the boy, who was watching me. “So I go in there?”

He nodded and placed his hand on top of mine on the table. “It’s what’s next.”

Again, I trusted him. So I stood slowly and walked to the light inspecting it as I get closer. Warmth was emanating from it, so I was excited about that. It also felt good, like home. I could tell that it was beckoning me forward, but I turned to look at the boy before I took any more steps forward. I tried again with my previous questions.

“Who are you? Have we met before?”

He smiled again, a broad, knowing smile. He made a pushing gesture with his hand, encouraging me to go further and I felt my body move forward. A warmth I have never felt surrounded me, and a peace I had never known infused into my soul. I could feel my body becoming lighter, and I breathed in the sensation deeply. But the questions still nagged at me, so I looked back. The boy smiled and waved and said four words. “Myname is Jonathan.”

I gasped despite the floating feeling in my head and limbs. Jonathan. That was the name I had always wanted to give to my son. The last thing I saw were his brown eyes. MY brown eyes I realized. Before I could reach back, the light hugged me and swallowed me until I was nothing but a soul floating to the next place. Jonathan.