Heaven On Hold

By Richard Cacioppe

Ted Watkins never had much use for sentimentality in his own life or in others. The tough, hard-bitten businessman had long ago buried his feelings about the tragedies which had afflicted him in his childhood and marriage. The death and destruction he saw in Vietnam as a young Marine officer had only served to confirm and harden his cynicism.
A series of events begin to soften Ted’s cynicism. A chance meeting with Father Mike Kelly, also a Vietnam veteran, and other events start to chip away at Ted’s flinty exterior. An emotional experience at a fellow veteran’s funeral results in an epiphany that seems destined to change his life. However, before Ted can act on his plan to remake his life, fate intervenes.
Ted suffers a massive stroke that leaves him near death. Ted’s incapacitation allows his unscrupulous nephew, Theodore, to begin the devious plan he has been plotting to seize control of Ted’s company. Ted’s docile and long suffering wife, Eleanor, tries to thwart him, but she is no match for Theodore’s heavy handed machinations. Ted, had for many years ridiculed and excluded Eleanor from any decision making. Now she was the only one who could prevent her evil nephew form succeeding in his sinister plot.
While Ted clings tenuously to life in a coma, a seemingly unrelated tragedy takes place. A seven week old girl, Kelly Rose, dies for no apparent reason. Because they could find no evidence of disease or any other cause which could explain the tragedy, the doctors and the coroner listed the cause of death as SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. SIDS is the medical profession’s default diagnosis for the mysterious death of over 7,000 babies a year.
When Ted miraculously awakens from his coma several weeks later he reveals an incredible story. He relates in intricate detail the story of his time in heaven where he encountered two angels, Maximus and Optimus who help him to review his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781483578729

Book preview

chair."

Amicus opened the large oak doors and slipped quietly into the interior of the dimly lit church. Once inside, he held his body against the huge panels to ensure the doors closed as silently as possible.

He tip-toed softly to a rear pew, barely lifting his feet as he made his way down the shiny marble aisle. He gently pulled a kneeler down and settled on it with a barely audible contented sigh.

Only when he was finally settled did he dare to look around. There were only a few other individuals scattered around the huge main floor of the church. Amicus knew there were many other places of worship in the area, most with many more worshipers. He was grateful that this one seemed not to attract as many people as the others. He loved the feeling of solitude and peacefulness that this enormous tabernacle provided for him.

He had been coming to this church ever since he had discovered it some 300 years earlier. He finished his prayers and sat back quietly in the pew taking in again the beauty of the church. The heavy stone walls, soaring arched ceiling and the beautiful stained glass windows reminded him so much of the church he had grown up in in his native Kiev.

He could feel the anxiety he had when he came into the church slowly leave him. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow the vastness of the church seemed to embrace him and pull and absorb the tensions from his body. For him, the church was not a cold edifice of stone. It was a living entity that seemed to understand his problems, his joys and his sadness. He leaned back against the pew, took a deep breath and mentally reviewed again the source of his unhappiness.

It’s not easy is it Amicus?, a gentle voice spoke softly behind him.

Startled, Amicus turned. Maximus, I didn’t even hear you come in, he said in a voice louder than he intended.

Well, you know me, Maximus said with a chuckle, I try to make my entries as surprising as I can. He sat on the edge of the pew behind Amicus and leaned forward as he spoke. I know you like your private, quiet time and I didn’t want to disturb you. However, I also know your heart is troubled and I know you need to discuss the problem. I’ve allowed you to try to work it out in your own way for nearly 50 years. I realize 50 years isn’t very much time, but as your supervisor I believe we need to work this out together. Things are, shall we say, percolating with Ted. It’s time you and I guide him to a soft landing. Lord knows he hasn’t had many of those in his life, Maximus chuckled again.

Ted is a tough case Maximus. I didn’t have any problems with any of the other people I managed. I just can’t seem to get through to him. I’ve tried all the techniques that worked in my other assignments. Nothing seems to work on Ted.

How long have you been in guardian angel training Amicus? Maximus asked.

About 700 years. Amicus was taken aback by the question.

I’m surprised that you haven’t figured out that Ted represents the beginning of the second phase of your training. Up until now you had pretty easy assignments. You’ve done very well with them so we figured you were ready for the next level, a hard case. Say hello to Ted the hard case. You were maybe expecting Mother Theresa?

Maximus said with a broad smile.

Amicus smiled. Well Mother Theresa would certainly have been easier to manage than Ted.

Let’s go sit in the courtyard and work on this together," Maximus said as he abruptly left the pew.

Amicus followed him quietly. Once outside, Maximus moved around the church to a stone bench in a secluded area formed by the two wings of the church. In all his previous visits, Amicus had not noticed this semi hidden garden. The fragrant scent of the exquisite flowers, the barely audible gentle hum of the insects and the soft songs of the birds, relaxed him further.

This place is wonderful. I feel better already. I’ve been coming to this church for a long time. I never realized this wonderful garden was here, Amicus said taking in the sights sounds and smells of his surroundings.

In a way this place is a good metaphor for your dilemma with Ted. Sometimes we go to familiar places and rehash the same ideas to solve our problems when there is a better solution right under our noses. We just have to keep our eyes and minds open to the possibilities, Maximus said beckoning Amicus to sit beside him on the bench.

You’re probably right Maximus, But I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to get to him. Ever since his mother died when he was 12, he shut out me and everyone else who loved him. It happened instantly and irrevocably. I tried many times to reach him using all of the powers that had worked with my other clients. None of them worked with Ted.

None of your earlier clients had the iron will or the deep hurt that Ted has. In all fairness to you, Ted probably couldn’t be reached before now. However, he’s getting to a point where he’s finally being forced to confront his own immortality. I believe we’ll see some changes now. The big question is whether he’ll have his epiphany before or after he comes here. Maximus put his hand gently on Amicus‘ shoulder.

I tried to reach him over and over. I thought I almost got through several times. Amicus looked off in the distance and paused for a moment. Once when he was in Vietnam I felt he was lowering his guard and was open to my call. Most of the time it seemed that Ted could create static and resist my messages. But once in Vietnam he was at the end of his emotional capacity. I knew that it was times like that when humans feel deep despair that they’re open to contact from us. For a minute it looked like I was going to reach Ted, but his anger and hurt returned blocking all of my attempts. Amicus sighed and looked down at his clenched hands.

Well, let’s take a look at what you’re talking about, Maximus said cheerily trying to lighten the mood. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a device slightly larger that a cell phone. You haven’t been given a portable life screen yet have you Optimus?

No sir. I’m thinking I’ll get one in a few hundred more years. It’s OK though there are plenty of screens I can check right now for the information I need.

What was the date of that event in Vietnam? Maximum turned the device so they could both see it.

February 14, 1968, Amicus answered.

Maximus entered the data into the device. The screen flickered revealing a scene of desolation and destruction. The trees and bushes of the jungle had been denuded. Smoke and small smoldering fires obscured some of the picture. Broken and bloody bodies lay scattered about. Low moaning could be heard in the background. A steady drizzle added to the misery of the men still alive on the battlefield.

Ted sat among the carnage cradling the head of an injured marine in his lap. You’re going to be alright Bill. Hold on, you have to hold on, he said gently.

Amicus and Maximus could see the young Lieutenant looking up intently into his commander’s eyes as if trying to assess the veracity of Ted’s confidence in his recovery. Skipper tell my wife I love her, he said in a raspy voice.

Both men watching the image could see the wounded man release his grip on Ted’s hand. They saw the horror in Ted’s face as he watched the young man’s eyes roll back in his head and become still. Ted let out an involuntary sob. He turned his mud streaked face skyward, tears mixing with the rain. He cried out in anguish. Why God, why?

Maximus and Amicus could both see that in an instant Ted’s face hardened. He gently removed the man’s head from his lap and stood. "Where the hell are those medevac choppers?, he yelled angrily.

In bound now sir, ETA in about 10 minutes, a marine near him answered.

Well quit standing around feeling sorry for yourselves. Redistribute the ammo from the dead and wounded and fill in the gaps in the perimeter. The NVA will be back as soon as they lick their wounds. Ted moved among the survivors lashing out at anyone not moving quickly enough.

A young marine sat holding an obviously dead man’s hand. His quiet sobbing was barely audible, but his shaking shoulders betrayed his true emotional state. Ted crouched down beside the distraught youngster. Snap out of it private. This is what war is. No one is going to take care of us except us. They’re likely to be back very soon. We need every able bodied man to do his duty. Remember that you’re a United States Marine. Ted handed him his helmet and rifle and moved quickly around the perimeter issuing orders.

Maximus turned off the device and the screen went blank. Well it wasn’t much of an opening and I’m sure you did everything you could under the circumstances Amicus, he said gently.

You know I thought I would be able to reach him then. I have personal experience with the heartbreak and despair of battle. I think I understand what Ted was feeling then, but he wouldn’t let me reach him.

That’s right. Now I remember. That’s how you got here, in some kind of a cavalry charge as I recall. Actually, that’s one of the reasons we assigned you to Ted. We thought your own experience would help you to understand him better, Maximus said. "Tell me more about what happened to you.

Amicus sat up straighter. I was born and raised just outside of Kiev in the Ukraine. My father was a minor Prince and a colonel in a Ukrainian cavalry regiment. My brothers and I joined his unit as soon as we could. I was a little over 16 when I joined. We had beautiful uniforms and we all loved the pageantry of the cavalry. We fought a few skirmishes before we were involved in a major battle against an invading Turkish army.

He looked off into the distance again. He lowered his voice as he continued. It was in one of those interminable wars we seemed to have in Russia in the 15th century. I’m not even sure the war had a name. Anyhow, our regiment was ordered to attack the flank of the Turkish army. For a moment it was glorious, bugles blowing and pennants flying. Then we clashed with the Turks and it was mayhem. I was un horsed by a lance thrust to my chest early in the battle. My older brother dismounted to protect me while the carnage swirled around us. He cradled my head much the same way Ted did for his marine in Vietnam. The last thing I saw was my brother’s tear streaked face,Amicus paused and then looked back at Maximus, this time there was a light in his eyes. My next memory was of seeing you and this wonderful place, he spread his arms expansively.

I knew that story, but I always like to hear the first hand account., Maximus clapped his friend on the shoulder. We knew because of your own experience you would have some personal insight into the emotional toll of war on humans. As long as you’re in the Human Division, we’ll probably take advantage of that experience in future cases. In a thousand years or so when we move you to another division it won’t be such a pertinent experience.

Maximus stood suddenly. Let’s go back into the church. Jeannette is about to sing. She sings so beautifully, I love to hear her. Plus I have to discuss a new assignment with her. He strode quickly toward the church entrance.

As they opened the massive doors, they could hear beautiful music emanating from the front of the church. The melodious voice of a young woman singing in French stopped them as soon as they were inside. Neither man wanted to make a sound that would in any way interfere with the beautiful music that seemed to wash over them. They stood silently until the singing ended, then moved to a pew in the front of the church.

That’s Jeannette. She was a favorite singer in the court of Louis XIV, Maximus said as they settled in the pew.

As soon as she saw them, Jeannette left the altar and moved quickly toward them.

I hope we didn’t interfere with your program, Maximus said apologetically as he rose to greet her.

Jeannette reached out and grasped his hands. Not at all Maximus. I just come here to sing sometimes. This church reminds me so much of the church I attended in Rouen.

Oh this is Amicus. He’s one of my guardians, Maximus said stepping aside so that the younger man could be seen. He’s about 200 years older than you Jeannette. He and I are working on some interesting cases.

Jeannette reached into the pew and shook Amicus’ hand. I received your message that you might have an assignment for me,she said turning to Maximus.

Yes I do. It will be a short assignment, about seven weeks. I need you to be a bridge between two wonderful but hostile families.

Of course. I’ve had several assignments like that. The last one was about 100 years ago. It’s always so interesting to follow the results of my visits after I return here, Jeannette said enthusiastically.

Well come see me tomorrow and I’ll give you the information about the families and your departure date. Right now Amicus and I would love to hear more of your singing.

Jeannette smiled, nodded to them both and returned to the front of the church. In a moment, the church was filled once more with the beautiful sounds of an ancient French ballad.

Both men sat back, almost totally absorbed by the beautiful music. Yet, in the back of their minds they also both knew that events were unfolding that would soon require their attention.

With a sigh, Father Mike Kelly settled into his chair. The rhythmic, soft breathing of his 12 year old golden retriever, Murphy was the only sound in the rectory at this late hour. The traffic outside his window on the normally busy street was greatly reduced with the occasional car passing almost reverently past the church.

He loved the way the soft leather of the chair molded itself around his body. As always, he felt guilty about how much he enjoyed it. It was undoubtedly the most luxurious piece of furniture in the otherwise sparsely and practically furnished rectory.

Mike would have settled for a duplicate of his now discarded, more modest chair. When the old one had completely worn out, Isabel O’Malley, his housekeeper, had taken matters into her own hands and ordered this new one. He knew Isabel observed as with increasing frequency, he would rise painfully from his chair after long hours of working at his desk. He knew the constant aching in his back stemmed from his days as a young chaplain with the 173rd Airborne Brigade. Back then, he had insisted on making parachute jumps with the troops whenever they jumped. He knew hitting the ground repeatedly at almost thirty miles an hour couldn’t be good for a spinal column. Thirty years later, he was clearly feeling the cumulative effects of those multiple jarrings.

So, when he returned to his office one day and found the luxurious new chair, he didn’t resist for two reasons. His back felt better the instant he sat in the it. And, he recognized, as did everyone else, that on all matters concerning comfort, health, and order in the rectory, Isabel was the undisputed decision-maker and final authority.

The only living thing that seemed oblivious to Isabel’s exercise of her absolute power over life in the rectory was Murphy. From the moment he brought Murph into the rectory as a puppy, the dog and the housekeeper had maintained a mutually respectful truce. Isabel’s rigid house rules and management style seemed to collapse when confronted by Murphy’s tail wagging, smiley-faced, ‘nothing’s that important,’ golden retriever attitude.

Mike always enjoyed these quiet times in his office. He loved the thought of being with his favorite books which were displayed on the shelves around him. The small size of the office enhanced the closeness he felt to those volumes. Even the smell of those books that he had owned for many years was comforting to him. It almost seemed that he was being embraced by the wisdom of the brilliant authors whose works were arrayed around him. The muted hum of the traffic outside his window was also soothing, a familiar part of the ambience he so loved.

Earlier in the day he had conducted a funeral mass for a young woman killed in an automobile crash. He had said during the eulogy that it was impossible for mortals to understand God’s will in situations like this. It seemed to be the only thing to say to the grieving parents trying to cope with the inexplicable loss of their young daughter. But, was that enough? Was it even the truth? As learned men of God couldn’t they do better than telling parents that the loving and kind Supreme Being they worshiped permitted this kind of senseless tragedy to occur and that they shouldn’t question it since no one could understand God’s will?

It was at moments exactly like this that Father Mike felt again most intensely the gnawing conflict between his formal engineering education and his faith. As a young priest, faith had easily overwhelmed his inclination to seek evidence to satisfy the doubts and questions he had had in similar situations. As he had grown older, his faith had grown stronger, but it just wasn’t enough anymore to explain why things like this happened, at least not to his satisfaction.

He longed for the serenity and peace of those earlier days when his faith had been enough to suppress his doubts and the questions whenever they had arisen. As hard as he had tried, he had never been able to regain the clarity and peace he had felt before Vietnam. He knew without doubt it was his inability to reconcile the fickleness and arbitrariness of war and its victims with any coherent understanding of God’s will that was the root cause of his changing attitude.

The randomness of death in battle offended his sense of an orderly universe managed by an all knowing, powerful and loving God. Of course, he had told a number of shaken survivors or grieving friends and families, exactly what he had told the parents at the funeral.

We can’t understand God’s will. We will drive ourselves crazy if we try to look for some sense in this tragedy. We must rely on our faith to help us deal with that which we can’t comprehend.

They wanted so badly to understand why things happened the way they did. He could tell by the looks in their eyes that what he told them wasn’t enough. He hoped then that when he had more time he could research the great church philosophers to see how they dealt with these questions. He knew that for more than two thousand years, most of the great minds of the Christian world had committed themselves to questions of faith. Certainly, the church had been scarred by the Inquisition and other zealots, but there were still plenty of enlightened thinkers to study.

But, it wouldn’t be books that would help Mike answer the question. It would be this incredible story. Mike at that moment had no idea that he would soon be called upon to witness events that would both challenge and enrich his faith.

Paul Coletti, Director of Manufacturing, at Watkins Enterprises, hurried down the hall. The vice president of the company, Fred Malone following close behind him. The rapid staccato sound of their shoes on the marble floor reverberated in the hallway. People threw themselves against the wall in an effort to get out of their way.

What is it this time? Fred asked, his voice quavering.

The same thing it’s been for the last month, Paul answered, the Georgia plant.

Oh, no. Fred’s groan was audible. Paul, I thought he was going to give us until the end of the year.

That was the agreement. However, Theodore’s back in town, I’ll bet anything he has something to do with this.

Heads peeked tentatively out of the offices that lined the hallways as they swept by. Paul wished he could be in one of those offices concerned only with paying vendors and making collection calls or any of the other routine tasks performed in there. Right now he’d gladly trade his salary to have the serenity and monotony of one of those jobs.

Okay, but, take a deep breath. We’re almost there, he said as much to reassure himself as to encourage Fred. We’re right in this, no matter what happens. Ted agreed to the end of the year, he can’t change just like that.

Wanna bet?

The uncertainty in Fred’s voice was unsettling to Paul. It looked like he’d be fighting this one alone again. He sighed. Fred was a good man. He knew his stuff, but around Ted he was almost incoherent. Kryptonite couldn’t disable Superman as quickly or completely as Ted could reduce Fred to a quivering and shaking shell. For that reason Paul had tried to keep Fred out of the meetings with Ted. However, Ted always insisted that Fred be present when they discussed the Georgia plant. He seemed to take pleasure in watching Fred crumble.

I think I know how the Christians must have felt right before they opened the gates and let the lions into the arena.

Fred, this is no time to get dramatic. We’re going to see my uncle, to talk about closing a plant in Georgia not the Emperor of Rome. Don’t let him get you rattled. The moment he said it, Paul regretted his words. His admonition had only made Fred more nervous. It’s going to be okay but, only if you and I hang together on this, he said almost apologetically, hoping to calm his companion.

The hall ended in a large, well lit reception area. Large floor to ceiling windows looked out on the well manicured grounds and a small pond. A variety of plants scattered around the room gave it a compatibility with the outdoors that made it seem almost an extension of the scenery beyond the windows.

An attractive middle-aged woman rose from behind a large desk positioned in the center of the room.

Hi, Paul, Fred, she greeted them with a broad smile. Paul, your uncle’s on the phone right now. That’ll give me a quick minute to fill you in on what’s going on.

Thanks , Sherry. I thought we had a reprieve on this whole issue until the first of the year.

Well, I thought you did also, but your brother just got back from what he calls a fact-finding mission to the Georgia plant. He just gave Ted his report and that’s what set your uncle off.

A fact-finding mission? Who sent him? Paul asked his voice rising.

No one. He said he dropped in on his way back from his Florida vacation, Sherry said, rolling her eyes.

That asshole….. um, sorry, Sherry.

Sherry, are they here yet? Ted’s voice seemed to fill the room.

Good luck. Remember, a lot of people think you’re right. Sherry squeezed his arm. Yes, Ted. They’re here., she answered.

Well, tell them to get their dead asses in here, Ted ordered.

Fred took an involuntary step backward.

It’s okay. Just remember we’re the good guys and a lot of people are counting on us. Paul took Fred’s arm and pushed him toward the office.

The dim light in the office was such a stark contrast to the brightness of the anteroom that it took a moment for Paul’s eyes to adjust so he could see