A Symphony Of Cicadas Part 14

"Are you sure?" she asked. I glanced one last time at John who was now in deep conversation with Hannah, Sam at his side as they chatted as casual as long-time friends among the bright lights and loud music. I smiled.

"I really am," I told her. I could hear the songs of Heaven flirting with the sounds of the carnival. I was being overwhelmed with a sense that this world was no longer mine, that I didn't belong here, that I didn't even want to belong here. It was like all of the past was one sweet memory of a more naive time, and I was about to go home.

Before I could take one last look, say a final goodbye, or even breathe in a final whiff of the world around me, Aunt Rose and I were whisked through the air at a speed I had never experienced. We broke through the atmosphere of earth, plummeted through s.p.a.ce like shooting stars, and whipped by the silent planet giants in the sky like pa.s.sing mile markers on a highway. The air around me tasted like a copper penny, though sweet in the strangest way. And I kept my eyes open so I wouldn't miss anything.

We reached the barrier in what felt like moments, slowing to a stop right in front of the glowing wall. I could see the swirling wind storming on the outside of the border of our galaxy, and I reached forward to touch the wall and feel the vibration of its movement. The wall glowed brighter under my touch, and then moved aside to create a vacant doorway of s.p.a.ce that created a safe pa.s.sage through the swirling tornado to the other side of our galaxy. I peered through and could see a whole universe of beauty, lands farther than the eye could see or imagine, showing all the parts of earth I had loved in my life that now existed in Heaven. Streams flowed into lakes, the fields of lush green expanded to the horizon, and deer grazed on leafy bushes. A mountain towered over a lake, a waterfall streaming down its side and creating a luscious fog that misted over a garden holding every flower I had ever seen in my life.

And this was just what I could see from where we hovered on our side of the galaxy.

I wanted to see more. Still clutching Aunt Rose's hand, I moved forward. She began to loosen her grip, startling me from continuing through. Confused, I looked back at her.

"This is as far as I go," she apologized. She smiled at me with kind eyes, her comfortable beauty radiating in the glow of barrier. I embraced her, though I felt no sadness. I pulled back and looked into her eyes, the silky blue I alone hadn't inherited. If I looked deep enough, I could catch glimpses of her thoughts, her life, and the very parts of her that made her who she was. And within it all, I felt her yearning to join me and leave the sadness and heartache behind.

"Come with me," I said to her, but she pulled back at the suggestion. She looked back in Earth's direction, even though it was far too distant to see.

"I can't," she said, but her tone was unconvincing.

"Yes, you can," I a.s.sured her. "Leave all that behind. Let's move on together. Let me be your final traveler to Heaven."

"But what about Sara?" Aunt Rose asked. "Who will guide her when it's her time?"

"Sara will be fine," I promised her. "There is always someone for those who cross over. You told me that. But it's your time now to move beyond this divide. Let's cross over together." I took her hand in mine. She hesitated for only a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out as she weighed the decision. She looked through the doorway, peering at the worlds that were waiting for us to explore. The look in her eyes went from fearful and unsure to longing and determined antic.i.p.ation.

"Let's go," she whispered, her hushed voice filled with giddiness, her smile that of a child, and we walked through. And the songs of the angels cascaded over us, reminiscent of the cicadas' song in a forest a long, long time ago.

The end.

Acknowledgements.

This book was born from a bad dream I had while planning my own wedding. With my wedding so close, I kept worrying that the worst would happen before I married my best friend. The dream was so haunting, I knew I needed to get it down in a book. And while the story is a work of fiction, I was able to draw from the experience of being a stepmom and starting a new family.

This was the very first book I ever had the courage to follow through and publish, and there are many people I want to thank who supported me in this journey.

First and foremost is my wonderful editor, Carol Weber, who took the story and made my words sing. Carol, you saw my vision for this book and made sure everyone else could, too. And I'd like to thank the wonderful people at NaNoWriMo.org, who told me I could write a whole book every November.

I want to thank my kids Summer, Lucas, and Andrew who tried not to need me too much while I typed away at the novel, and who I hope will forgive me when being a writer and a good mom and stepmom didn't go hand in hand. I'd like to thank my mother, Nancy McLerran, who took the first stab at editing my book and couldn't quite look me in the eye for weeks after reading Chapter 19, and who also didn't shy away from telling me when certain facts didn't match up.

And for all my friends and family who have encouraged me along the way, I couldn't have done it without your support! My sisters Melissa Moreno and Heather McLerran, my dad Gary McLerran, my Grandma Elsie Chretien, my fabulous in-laws Joan and Dave O'Conner, my honorary brother Brian Moreno, my sisters in crime Anne Schmidbauer and Pam Enquist, and my friends Wendy Dunnagan, Kristin Meyer, Alberto Melendez, Katie Talbot, the homegroup homies, the Girl Talk gals (your support means the world to me!), my friends and family at New Life, and everyone who stood behind me at The Press Democrat.

And I couldn't have done this without my husband, Shawn Langwell. Darling, you encouraged me from day one, read my horrible, awful first draft and still believed in me. Now if that isn't love, I don't know what is! Thank you for your patience when I chose to go to bed with the computer much to your dismay. With this book, I give you back your wife. I love you!

About the Author.

Crissi Langwell is a writer in Northern California. When not writing fiction, Crissi writes for her local newspaper, the Press Democrat, and maintains several of the newspaper's websites. She lives with her husband, three children, and a couple of very needy cats. This is her first novel.

Please visit her website at crissilangwell.com.

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