One of the hardest things to get used to in the spirit world is the sense that time has little meaning. After Rhys had brought me to my new home by the river, I had decided to explore the land around my cottage. As I traipsed up and down the countryside, and climbed to the tops of some surrounding hills, I kept expecting the daylight to fade into the warmth of a summer evening. Even though Rhys had told me that the sunshine was unending in the middle and upper realms, I found myself hoping that a sunset would sneak its way over the mountains and surprise me.

My confusion about time was heightened by my lack of hunger. My New Yorker’s stomach was used to a strict regimen of morning donuts, pizza slices and gourmet dinners at seven, with the dinners washed down with a good red wine. Not knowing what time it was presented an interesting dilemma. When was dinner?

Suddenly feeling a bit guilty, I stopped clambering over some boulders and looked down at my companion.

“What about you, Rembrandt?” I asked. “When do you eat?”

I could have sworn he smiled, which for a white Labrador isn’t that difficult. He looked up at me, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and lifted his paw expectantly. Then, to my surprise, he turned and barked in the direction of our cottage.

I turned too, and gazed down a long valley lined with magnificent oaks and white birch trees. The cottage was at least five miles away, yet I was amazed that I could see it clearly. One of the green shutters around the living room window had a mockingbird perched on its edge, hanging precariously by one claw. Even though the distance was very great, the details of the cottage were as sharp as if I had been standing right in front of it.

“Look, Rembrandt!” I pointed at the chimney, from which a thin wisp of smoke was rising. Rembrandt barked again, and whined, looking back and forth from me to the cottage, as if to inquire why I was still standing there. I breathed deeply, wondering if Rhys had come back, for I hadn’t made a fire in the fireplace.

Rembrandt brushed against my leg impatiently, eager to run. I rubbed his cheek and smiled, wondering how we should proceed. I wanted to get back to the cottage quickly, but I still had no confidence to fly. I wasn’t sure if Rembrandt could fly anyway. I laughed out loud at the thought. Could animals fly in the spirit world? I had also traveled with Rhys through the power of thought, instantaneously moving from place to place, but I had no idea how to do it by myself. Shaking my head in vexation, I wrapped my hand in the fur of Rembrandt’s neck and proceeded to climb down the rocks to the valley below.

When one is in a hurry to get somewhere, why is it that time moves more slowly? It seemed to me that our journey to the cottage was almost as slow as driving on 34th Street across Manhattan at rush hour. My previous lack of hunger had been replaced by a very hollow feeling in my stomach, and my saliva glands seemed to be the only rapidly moving part of my body. I was making a note to myself that this was definitely a discussion I had to have with Rhys when I rounded a bend in the river and found myself in front of the cottage.

My life as a stockbroker had never included much time for art, but I have to admit that the scene in front of me was thrilling indeed. The cottage was surrounded by a grove of trees, with flowers growing more plentifully than the grass. The river flowed past the front door and my friend the great blue heron was standing in the rushing water, looking at me with his head cocked to one side. What filled me with awe and surprise, however, was that the tree line behind the cottage had turned a deep ruby red with the reflection of a sunset. I felt confused, because the sky behind me was still bright and sunny. As I watched, with Rembrandt panting at my side, the sunset deepened in color and the light around the cottage faded until it was completely dark. As the darkness swept through the yard, the lights in the cottage came on, casting a warm glow across the sunflowers outside the front windows.

It seemed that the laws of nature and physics were quite different here, for the flowers didn’t fold up and tuck themselves into bed, but continued to stand straight up and sing. I rubbed my eyes and then my ears, because I could hardly believe that it was the flowers that I heard. I turned and looked back toward the mountains behind me and saw that the evening darkness was mine alone. It extended about a mile up the valley, where it seemed to weave itself into the daylight as if it had stopped for a chat with the sunshine on the other side.

I walked dreamily toward the cottage, with Rembrandt at my side. I could smell the odor of cooking, and the Labrador could smell it too, because he wagged his tail vigorously, and then bounded against the door and opened it.

The living room was filled with the warmth and crackle of the fireplace. When I had left the cottage before our trek up the valley, it had been daylight, and the room, although comfortable, had been silent and a bit on the lonely side. Now, it was filled with music and the smell of what could only be a feast. Much to my surprise there was a very large television screen on one wall of the cottage. I didn’t remember seeing it earlier in the day. As I approached the center of the room, the screen turned on, and then stretched and filled the entire wall from floor to ceiling. As the screen came into focus, I saw Rhys and Isobel seated in their kitchen. The image was three dimensional and completely lifelike. It looked as if there was no screen at all – simply an open wall into another room.

My face must have been very amusing, because they both laughed and Isobel blew me a kiss. She was even more ravishingly statuesque than the last time I saw her, and I have to admit that I felt a pang of envy toward Rhys. She looked at me with a delightful smile, and said, “Edward, don’t worry. You’ll have a wife someday.”

I blushed furiously as Rhys grinned at me. I had no idea that they could read my thoughts through a television screen. Rhys kept grinning as he said, “Well, Edward, do you like your cottage?”

I felt overwhelmed as I slumped into a huge easy chair in front of the television, although I doubted I could call it a simple TV.

Rhys was enjoying himself immensely as he responded to my thoughts. “And you thought we didn’t have TV in the spirit world!”

I nodded, not knowing quite what to say.

“Where do you think that the television started, anyway?” he asked. “We had it here long before it got to earth. Although our programming is much better, as you’ll see.”

“It’s also very convenient for communication, don’t you think, Edward?” Isobel asked.

“It makes our television look like an etch-a-sketch,” I replied.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Rhys said.

As he said that, he and Isobel stood up and to my astonishment stepped through the opening into my living room. After they did so, the image of their kitchen faded away, and the television shrank back to its original width. I jumped up as they walked toward me, just in time for both of them to give me a hug, and kiss me on both cheeks.

Holding my hands in theirs, they looked me up and down and smiled.

“Did you enjoy your walk?” Isobel asked.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied. I waved at the television. “How did it get here? I didn’t see it earlier.”

“Rhys arranged it for you,” Isobel said. “You’ll be able to use it to learn about all kinds of things.”

Rhys grinned again. “When you want to turn it on, just think or say ‘on’.” He picked up a device that looked remarkably like a remote control. “Or use this. You can also use it to browse our channels.” He punched a few buttons and the screen turned on again, to a talk show, with an announcer interviewing a group of people seated around a circular table. I watched for a few moments in fascination, as I saw their names flash on the screen as they talked. I looked at Rhys and Isobel and was opening my mouth to speak as Rhys interrupted me.

“Yes, that’s Benjamin Franklin on the left, sitting next to Golda Meir, Albert Einstein and the Sufi poet Hafiz. It’s a forum about the Middle East. The threat of nuclear terrorism on earth has all of us quite worried these days.”

“They look so young,” I rather stupidly said.

“Of course,” Rhys replied. He flicked off the television and took me by the arm. “Let’s go sit at your dining room table and have dinner. Isobel has prepared a wonderful meal for you. I know you’re hungry.”

We walked into the dining room, followed by an eager Rembrandt. The plain wooden table was set for three, with a multitude of dishes in the center. Isobel took my hand and led me to the head of the table, and then she and Rhys sat down on either side. The dog took a position by my chair and waited, as dogs tend to do when they expect table scraps. I sat for a moment, overwhelmed by a feeling of gratitude. I hadn’t had many friends in my life on earth and I wondered how I could possibly deserve such treatment. Rhys and Isobel looked at me kindly as I tried to compose myself. Finally Rhys broke the silence.

“May I offer grace, Edward?”

At my nod, he bowed his head and said a simple prayer of thanks for our friendship and the chance to dine together. When he was done, he smiled broadly and pointed to the center of the table.

“Isobel prepared lobster, Edward. I hope you like it!”

“Like it!” I replied. With that, we all proceeded to eat and talk and then eat some more. In between a mouthful of lobster and Korean bulgogi, I asked them the question I had been thinking about all day.

“How is Molly?”

I blushed as they both laughed and Rhys nudged Isobel. “Told you, Isobel,” he said.

Isobel patted my arm as she answered. “Don’t mind Rhys, Edward. He’s incorrigible. Molly rested for quite awhile, and then asked a million questions and then went swimming in the ocean. She never learned how to swim back in the 1600s, and was thrilled when we showed her how. Rhys thought that she needed to get outdoors under the open sky. She was imprisoned in that tavern for a very long time.”

“Is she not at your home?” I asked.

Isobel shook her head. “Yumiko offered to show her how to dive for pearls.” She looked at Rhys. “Where do you think they are now, darling?”

Rhys rubbed his nose for a moment, and said, “Let me ask Yumiko.” He paused for a brief moment, and said, “She took Molly to the island where Yumiko lives, to the beach where we go swimming.” He laughed suddenly. “Yumiko says that Molly can’t believe that you don’t have to hold your breath under water.” He winked at Edward. “She also says that Molly says hello to you, Edward.”

“Please say hello back,” I said, hoping that they couldn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest. Rhys smiled and must have communicated my response, for he laughed again. Looking at Isobel, he asked, “Shall we take Edward to the island for a swim?”

Isobel clapped her hands and nodded. “Yes! Let’s. I think he’ll love it.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Why not?” Rhys said. With that, we all stood up. As I was wondering what to do about the dirty dishes, Isobel waved her hand and they all simply disappeared, leaving the table empty, except for a large vase of flowers.

“That was easy!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” she said. “We use the power of thought for everything here. Making dinner took me a few minutes, because I had to think about what you liked, but after that was settled, the meal was ready the moment we got the message that you were hungry.”

“Got the message?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“We are linked to you, Edward, in our minds. Whenever you call us, we’ll either come immediately, or we’ll send you a message that we’re busy for a while. Because you’re new here, we’ve been monitoring you, in order to help you. We knew you went out on a walk, and when you asked Rembrandt about dinner, we heard your question.”

As we walked back out to the living room, I asked, “What about privacy? Not that I want to hide,” I added hastily.

Rhys pointed to the television. “Like the way that just popped up and you saw us, when you came in?”

I nodded.

“Privacy in the middle and upper realms is a curious mix,” he said. “It’s very sacred, especially when communicating by thought. Yet, as a person becomes more unselfish and loving, one has less to hide, because one’s dark areas grow smaller. So one doesn’t feel the need to hide oneself from others. In fact, we can’t hide our hearts and personalities from each other in these realms. Our natures are to be sensitive to each other. However, we always respect others if they want privacy and time to be alone.”

He continued as we walked toward the front door. “We wanted to surprise you, today, but normally, the television will chime if someone wants to call you. If someone wishes to speak with you telepathically, you’ll feel their presence and identity nudging against your mind, almost like a knock on the door. From now on, you’ll have to allow us, or anyone else, into your mind if you want to communicate via thought.”

I was satisfied with their answers, as we left the cottage together, with Rembrandt in tow. When we stepped outside, I looked up and saw stars for the first time since I had arrived in the spirit world. Yet, when I turned my head, I saw the daylight circling around my little dome of nighttime sky. Looking at Rhys and Isobel, I pointed at the stars.

“I’m quite confused by this,” I said. “Why did nightfall come just to my cottage? And if we’re not on earth, what are those stars?”

“Did you not yearn for a sunset and the evening to come?” Isobel asked.

“Yes, I did,” I replied.

“God gave you a gift,” she said. “The stars are real stars that exist in the spirit world, just as the mountains do, and just as the river flows in front of your door. Space tends to bend and stretch here, like time does, and our geography is much more complicated than a simple system of stars and planets. Because we’re not ruled by the need to sleep, or even eat, we tend to like long periods of daylight. Thus, we don’t need to follow twenty-four hour days. But, if you want to see the stars at night around your cottage, simply ask. Your merit allows you that privilege.”

As she finished speaking, we watched as the sunlight moved swiftly toward the cottage from all sides, until it met in the middle of the front lawn and created a fountain of light that shot upwards, revealing a beautiful blue sky. Daylight had arrived, and I had to admit that I liked it. I didn’t feel tired at all, and was eager to arrive at the island that Rhys had mentioned. Answering my thoughts, he and Isobel took my hands, while Rhys grabbed Rembrandt’s furry neck with his other hand. Before I could take a breath, my cottage disappeared, and I found myself standing with them on a long and beautiful beach.

 

• • •

 

“You have to teach me how to do that,” I said.

“We will,” Rhys answered.

The beach was magnificent and very wide, with clear, tropical water stretching off to the horizon on one side, and dunes and tall grass on the other. The grass extended inland to a forest and a mountain range beyond. We were alone on our section of the beach although I could see a few people down at the far end around a mile away.

“Where are Yumiko and Molly?” I asked.

Rhys and Isobel pointed at the water, and as we watched, Yumiko and Molly walked out of the ocean. Their heads appeared above the waves and then their upper bodies and finally, as the water became shallow, their legs and feet. As Rhys had mentioned, they must not have needed to hold their breaths under water, because they had no scuba gear of any kind. In fact, to my consternation, but I admit, not my displeasure, they had nothing on at all. Isobel squeezed my arm, so that I tore my eyes away from the approaching women and looked at her and Rhys. They were both smiling in a teasing way at my befuddlement.

“We don’t wear clothes while we swim. Why should we?” Isobel said. As she spoke, the clothing that she and Rhys had been wearing disappeared, and they ran forward to greet Yumiko and Molly.

Rhys turned back toward me for a moment, and said, “Just imagine that your clothes are gone, and it will be so.”

I looked at Rembrandt, who looked up at me, loyally sitting with me in my predicament. He wasn’t much help, but his presence was comforting. I gazed at my four friends at the water’s edge as I gathered my courage. Molly was excitedly telling Rhys and Isobel about her adventures under the water. She had a large white pearl the size of a tennis ball in her hand and they were all examining it with admiration.

I didn’t feel prudish about their nudity. It was simply that I wasn’t used to it. They were a beautiful sight, standing there by the water’s edge. There wasn’t an inch of cellulite to be seen, which I had been told was one of the great advantages of the spirit world. One’s body reflected one’s spirit and love and quality of life. Thus, if one was even reasonably good-hearted, age and disease fell away upon one’s arrival in the afterlife, leaving behind a youthful appearance and healthy vigor. As people advanced in their quality of love, they became increasingly handsome or beautiful, and gained a unique appearance of both physical youth and spiritual age.

Rhys, who had been in the spirit world the longest of our little group, seemed to me to be a very amazing person. As I watched him laughing with Isobel, I was in awe of what I can only describe as his spiritual atmosphere and magnetism. His body was lithe and powerful, and would have been a good model for Michelangelo. The women were themselves incredibly beautiful to me, and all quite different. Isobel’s thick red hair reached to her waist, offsetting her flawless skin. Yumiko was not as tall as Isobel, but was very fit and sparkled like a bird. They both had eyes that were kind and warm, giving them so much authority that I found myself admiring their naked bodies with automatic respect, as great works of art. Naturalness and poise emanated from them, banishing my latent traces of embarrassment.

As I glanced at Molly, I blushed, for I had begun to realize that I was falling in love with her. Yet, I had no idea how I could proceed along that track in the spirit world, because I instinctively realized that certain barriers existed that I didn’t yet comprehend. I noticed as I watched her laughing with the others that her face still bore traces of weariness. Her long battle with alcohol had drained her, and her spirit was not as bright as the others. Yet, her face and body looked younger than when I had first met her in the tavern in the lower realms, and the dark circles under her eyes were gone. Her long black hair was shining in the sun, as it fell across her breasts and stomach. As I gazed at her, she glanced up and called out to me with a smile.

“Edward, are you not coming swimming?”

“Yes, I’m coming!” I answered. I looked at Rembrandt again, and whispered, “This is it buddy boy.” I looked at my dark blue velvet trousers and my linen shirt, that Rhys had given me, and thought, “Gone!” Without even a pop, they vanished, and I was standing on the beach in my birthday suit.

My shyness didn’t last long, as I ran to the water’s edge and greeted Yumiko and Molly, and examined Molly’s giant pearl with delight. We spent what I thought were hours on the beach, swimming, diving into the ocean, flying high into the sky and diving again, and finally collapsing on the sand and letting the warmth of the day enter our bones and skin and souls. I thought that it was the happiest day of my life.

After a long time, Rhys sat up and said, “It’s time now to talk about our next mission.”

We sat up, with a reluctant sigh on my part, and stared at Rhys. He made a motion with his hand and a small table appeared on the sand between us. It was the low type of table that one finds in Japanese restaurants, just a foot or so off the ground. On top of the table, a tray of cool drinks shimmered into view, and as Isobel passed them to everyone, a series of holographic images appeared in the middle of the table.

I watched in fascination as a tableau spread out in front of us. We saw beautiful green hills and a river running through the countryside. A legion of Roman soldiers was encamped at the river’s edge. We heard the sound of horses and workmen as a fort was erected before our eyes.

“You are looking at the construction of the fort Isca Augusta, in what is now known as Caerleon, in the south east section of Wales,” Rhys said. “It is the year A.D. 75, and the Second Augustan Legion has arrived under the command of Sextus Julius Frontinus. His mission is to subjugate the early Welsh tribe known as the Silures.”

As we gazed at the scene, the images sped up, and we saw the fort completed. We watched as groups of soldiers marched out of the fort and engaged in skirmishes with the Silures. Suddenly the holograph shifted and we saw a single legionnaire by the river, a few miles from the fort. He was walking along a path toward the river’s edge, whistling as he walked.

Rhys tone was grim as he spoke. “This is a Roman soldier by the name of Manius Livius Tuscus. He is a miltes gregarius, the Roman equivalent of a private soldier. He is walking along the River Usk, and he is about to commit a great sin. At this time in his life, he was an extremely brutal man, although you might not think it from his appearance.”

The images on the table enlarged until they filled a virtual dome above our table about three feet high. Molly was sitting in between Isobel and Yumiko, across from Rhys and me. I could tell that she was in as much awe as I was at the reality of the scene in front of us. Neither one of us suspected what would happen next.

Livius Tuskus’ face could be clearly seen as he pushed his way through some bushes at the edge of the river. He wasn’t an ugly man, and didn’t look like a brutal person, which must have made many of his victims all the more unsuspecting. As he arrived at the water, his whistle cut off in mid-note. There in front of him was a beautiful young woman and a small girl of about ten. They were washing themselves in the river, and didn’t notice Tuskus as he approached.

“These are sisters,” Rhys said. “Members of the Silure tribe, as you can see from their dark complexions and curly hair. The Silures had a connection to tribes in Iberia, now known as Spain. The little girl is named Heulwen, which means ‘sunshine’ in the Welsh language. The young woman is Rhiannon, Welsh for ‘pure maiden and goddess and nymph’. I tell you their names in such detail because it is relevant to our mission, and because they are descendants of mine. As you know I was born in that region long before the Romans came.”

Isobel quietly stood up and came around the table and sat down next to Rhys and put her arm around him. I could see that Rhys was becoming visibly upset as we watched the scene in front of us. As the Roman strode into the water toward the girls, they turned and saw him. Heulwen screamed loudly as he approached. She was a few feet closer to the shore and as Tuskus came up to her, he drew his short sword and pierced her through the stomach. She coughed violently and then fell back, where she lay floating, dead upon the water.

Rhiannon was standing, immobilized with shock, for the murder had happened so quickly that she hadn’t had time to move. As the legionnaire continued toward her, she screamed with an unspeakable keening, so loudly that we all winced around the table. All of us were crying as we watched, because we realized that this was a true depiction of what had actually happened. Molly was clutching Yumiko’s hand, her eyes dark with horror.

Rhiannon screamed again as Tuskus reached her and grabbed her by her hair. She had no weapon, for she was naked from her bathing. Still, she struggled wildly, scratching and punching the Roman until he hit her on the side of her head with the hilt of his sword. She continued to fight, although weakly, as he carried her to the shore and flung her on the ground. Taking out his knife, he held it to her throat as he spread her legs and proceeded to rape her.

We all wanted to look away, but Rhys commanded us, saying, “Wait! Something important is going to happen.”

Tuskus was grunting so loudly that he didn’t notice a woman running along the river’s edge toward him. The woman was tall, with long black hair that flowed behind her as she ran. She seemed to have great strength as she bounded silently across the rocks. She was barefoot, and was holding her dress up with one hand while she clutched a dagger in the other.

“That is Margred,” said Rhys. “The elder sister of Rhiannon and Heulwen.”

We watched as Margred reached the Roman and hurled herself upon his back, stabbing her blade into his body again and again. The force of her attack pushed him down onto Rhiannon, for he had been caught entirely by surprise. With a grunt of rage, he rolled off Rhianon’s body, desperately reaching for his sword. Margred’s dagger had pierced an artery in his neck and it was clear to us that he was dying. As he rolled, Margred rolled with him, continuing to stab him as he grasped his sword. With the strength that sometimes comes to dying men, Tuskus plunged his sword deep into her belly and ripped the blade sideways as he fell back, choking on his own blood.

Margred had been flung away from him with the strength of his blow, stumbling to her left and falling to her knees in front of Rhiannon. Molly started to sob loudly as we watched Margred sink down over the prostrate body of her sister. Margred had not known that Tuskus was holding a blade to her sister’s throat as he raped her. It had been Margred’s own weight upon the legionnaire’s back that had forced his knife into Rhiannon’s throat. In the final moments of Margred’s battle with Tuskus, unbeknownst to Margred, Rhiannon had bled to death.

Margred was groaning loudly as she stared in horror at her sister on the ground, and her younger sister floating at the water’s edge. Her hands were soaked in her own blood as she scrabbled at the sword in her belly, and her face was spattered with the blood of the Roman soldier. It was her eyes that were horrible to see as we watched her curl in agony upon her sister’s naked body. Her final glance before she died was toward Manius Livius Tuskus. Her eyes and face were frightful, filled with an implacable hatred toward the dead legionnaire. When her eyes finally closed, we all sat in shock at what we had seen, unable to speak for many moments.

Rhys broke the silence first. His face was dark with pain as he stared at all of us.

“I’m sorry that you had to see that. I truly am. It was necessary, however. If we are to rescue Margred we must understand her suffering.”

Molly was weeping as she asked, “What of Rhiannon and Heulwen?”

Rhys motioned to the holographic image again. “You can see where they are now. They died in a terrible way, but somehow they found the ability to forgive the Roman. It took them a long time, but they liberated themselves when they removed their anger against him. As you can see, they are fundamentally happy now, except for their grief over Margred.”

We leaned forward to peer into the hologram once again. The scene had changed, and we now saw a sunny hillside with a group of people sitting on the grass listening to a concert. The music swept from the center of the hologram, bathing us, comforting us in our own grief at what we had just seen. It was unlike any music I had ever heard; ethereal and transcendent in its tone. As we watched, a column of magnificent colors appeared over the musicians’ heads, spreading outward like peacock feathers, caressing the audience, and then streaming out of the hologram to each of us. We all cried again, but this time because we felt an indescribable atmosphere of love.

As the music ended, the image zoomed closer to the audience and we saw Rhiannon, and a young woman that must have been Heulwen grown up, sitting in the front row. Their faces were shining, while tears ran down their cheeks. It was truly comforting to see that their agony was past, and that they still lived on.

Then the hologram faded from the tabletop, and we looked around the beach and realized that the day was still filled with beauty and sunshine. The sand was still warm, and Rembrandt lay sleeping at our side. We looked at Rhys with expectation, because we knew that we had to do something for Margred. We were eager to begin.

Isobel had both arms around Rhys, comforting him, placing her cheek against his. With her face pressed against Rhys, she smiled at us, and said, “Rhys had to work hard to remove his anger against the Roman. There is still more to do on that score, and for that he needs your help.”

She looked at Molly, and said, “Molly, are you not curious why Rhys didn’t tell us what Margred’s name means? He made such a point to explain her sisters’ names.”

Molly nodded. “I hadn’t thought about it, but yes, what does her name mean?”

Isobel smiled at Yumiko and said, “It was not a coincidence that we asked you to take Molly to the ocean to dive for pearls. May I see the giant pearl that Molly found?”

Yumiko nodded and looked at Molly, who reached down and carefully picked up the pearl that lay on the sand next to her. She placed it on the table where we all stared at it with renewed interest. It was shimmering in the sunlight and was perfectly round, and was almost exactly the size of a tennis ball. Never having seen a pearl of that size, I was amazed that it even existed.

Rhys gently picked it up and held it in his hand, turning it over and over. With a smile, he handed it back to Molly and said, “Thank you, dear. Please keep it safe. We’ll need it soon, for Margred’s name means ‘pearl’. I asked Yumiko to help you find a pearl like this, because I’m hoping that you can help us resurrect her heart.”

With a wave of his hand, the table disappeared and he motioned for us all to stand. He glanced at us with a commanding expression and as he did so, we looked down and saw that he had not restored our former clothes, but instead had dressed us in what must have been the attire of the early Welsh tribes. As we were admiring his handiwork, we heard a “hello!”, and turned to see Scatman and Lucio stepping out of the flying vehicle that we had used to rescue Molly. They ran across the sand to greet us, exchanging hugs with all of us. I was glad to see them, and had been wondering where they were. They explained that they had been meeting with Dr. Schweitzer, and had been making preparations for the journey. We boarded the craft and watched as the beach receded in the distance. Rhys nodded and smiled when I asked if we could come back to the beach again soon.

 

• • •

 

After we had traveled a short distance, Rhys touched a control panel in the vehicle and Dr. Albert Schweitzer’s kindly face appeared on a screen in the front of the cabin. He looked at me and smiled, and said, “How are you, Edward?”

“Fine, sir. I’m really grateful to have found such good friends.”

He laughed and said, “And they are happy to know you, my boy.” He paused and then said, “Edward, when this mission is over, we must talk about your parents and your relatives back on earth.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I was silent, because I realized that I had not thought about my parents and relatives since I had arrived in the spirit world. My father had been a difficult person to get to know, and had passed away many years before. I felt very conscious stricken, because I had no idea where he was in the spirit world. My mother was still alive, but I hadn’t seen her in three years. She had divorced my father and then married a much younger and richer man from Buenos Aires, and moved with him to Argentina. I wondered if she had heard of my death. I had no brothers and sisters, having been an only child. I had a few distant relatives scattered around whom I barely knew.

Dr. Schweitzer must have read my thoughts, for he said, “Your mother knows about your death and has been grieving. Your father also knows, but has been reluctant to approach you, because he is ashamed of the pain he caused you. You will have to go and visit him.”

I nodded. “I understand, sir.”

“Good,” he said.

Dr. Schweitzer then looked at Molly, and said, “Hello my dear. Rhys has informed me that you have agreed to join our team of rescuers. Do you feel more rested now?”

Molly was shy as she responded. “Yes, sir. Isobel and Rhys told me that it was you that sent Edward and everyone to help me. Thank you, sir!”

He waved his hand deprecatingly. “My dear, it was a joy to see you leave that horrible place. Do you feel up to this adventure?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “How can we rescue Margred?”

“I’ll let the others answer that,” he replied. “My prayers are with you!” With another smile and wave, the screen went blank and we continued on our journey. As we traveled downward, we passed the level that I lived in.

Rhys looked at me, and then at Rembrandt, and said, “I’d like to send your puppy back to your house. Is that OK with you?”

I kissed Rembrandt’s muzzle and nodded. As he wagged his tail and barked, his image faded and he was gone. I thought I heard him bark as he arrived at my cottage, but I wasn’t sure.

As we had done when we rescued Molly, our flying craft descended through many levels of the spirit world, traveling into darker and darker realms until it seemed pitch black through the large windows of the vehicle. After a time, the craft set down without a sound. I looked at Molly and smiled, a bit weakly. Neither one of us knew what to expect, and I could tell she was as nervous as I was. Isobel saw our trepidation and walked over to us and put her arms around us and hugged us hard. There was something about Isobel that made one feel that all of one’s troubles were gone. I sighed and put my head on her shoulder for a moment. With our courage restored, we followed Rhys out the door.

• • •

 

Our vehicle had landed on a small island about the size of a football field. It was completely flat, and covered with thick vines and brambles; the kind that were impossible to walk through without bleeding and cursing. It seemed completely dark at first and bitterly cold. The sea around the island was crashing against the slime covered rocks at the water’s edge, and the wind was blowing so hard that I had to catch Molly as she climbed down the steps, to prevent her from falling over. We stood there and stared, straining to see what kind of hell we had visited. Molly shuddered and drew her cloak about her tightly.

Isobel and Yumiko and Lucio followed us down the steps, leaving Scatman in the craft. As the door shut behind us, closing off the warmth and light of the vehicle, our eyes started to adjust slowly to the dim surroundings. Rhys leaned closer to us and shouted above the wind, “Remember, think loving thoughts always, and you will stay warm.”

He then handed each one of us long wooden staffs fixed with lanterns at the top that had brilliant spheres of light glowing inside them. Lucio took my arm and Yumiko grasped Molly’s hand, and then, as we held the lanterns aloft so we could see through the gloom, we all floated up into the air above the bramble bushes. As we moved across the island I wondered for a moment why the wind didn’t push us off our course. Lucio heard my thoughts and pointed at Rhys and Isobel in front of us.

“It is their will power and ours too, that keep us from harm.” His words entered my mind telepathically, because the wind was howling so loudly that normal speech had become impossible.

The ground beneath us was hard and rocky and seemed lifeless except for the brambles. I wondered how anyone could survive in such a place. As we reached the end of the island, we saw a figure fighting its way through the vines. It was Manius Livius Tuskus, but he was almost unrecognizable. His uniform was ripped and filthy and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen. We floated down to the ground and stood around him in a circle, with our lanterns held high against the shadows. He cowered on the rocks, throwing his arm across his eyes to shield them from our lights. Rhys and Isobel went up to him and greeted him, but he cowered more and said something that was snatched away by the wind.

As we stood there, we heard a shriek that made the Roman soldier tremble even more. Bursting through our circle, Margred ran to Tuskus and kicked him, screaming obscenities all the while. I heard Rhys speaking in our minds as we watched her persecute the legionnaire.

“She has no idea that she has been here on this island almost two thousand years. Her rage has blinded her, and removed all sense of time. All she knows is that she hates Livius Tuskus. She imagines that her sisters are dead and gone and that somehow she and the Roman have survived here. She doesn’t know that she’s in the spirit world. She doesn’t know how she got here, and doesn’t care, because she is bent only on revenge.”

Isobel’s quiet voice sounded clearly in my mind. “Rhys, I think Manius is ready to change, don’t you? He is no longer fighting her as he used to.”

Lucio looked at me, and explained, “Rhys and Isobel have come here many times through the years and have spoken to both the Roman and Margred. For hundreds of years, neither of them would even acknowledge their visitors. Then, when they did respond, Rhys and Isobel were often rejected violently. They shed more tears than they want to remember, over these two.”

He shook his head. “I admire Rhys for overcoming his anger toward the Roman. It was hard for him, but can you imagine how difficult it is to love such a criminal?” I stared at Livius Tuskus as Margred’s kicks grew weaker. They both seemed to be completely exhausted.

After a moment, Lucio continued. “When Yumiko and Scatman and I joined Rhys and Isobel, we visited here too, but we have only recently felt hope that we could reach them. They have been arguing with us less. The last time we came, we were very close to success. We have been asking the Roman to humble himself to Margred, and on our last visit he almost did so.”

“Why are they here together?” asked Molly.

Rhys had been listening quietly to Lucio’s explanation. He gazed at the Roman sadly, and said, “This environment is a reflection of the hatred and evil that Tuskus allowed to grow in his mind. One is never condemned to this kind of hell. This was created in his mind while he was alive, like dark weeds wrapped around his heart. When his physical body died, this was what was left. His life was truly terrible. He killed many, many innocent people, ignoring the suffering he brought to others. When he died, he found himself here, with no one on the island except Margred.”

“She should not have been here,” said Isobel. “Like her sisters, she had a chance to forgive him, and live in the realm that you saw them in. But she couldn’t relinquish her hatred. Her rage bound her to him. We hope that your gift will make a difference, Molly.”

Margred had finally stopped kicking the Roman, and had slumped on the rocks next to him, with her head down, shivering in the cold. Tuskus looked at her warily, and crawled a few feet away.

“I think they might listen today!” Yumiko said. “Shall we try now?”

Rhys nodded, and motioned Lucio and Yumiko forward. They went to the Roman and leaned down and took his hands in theirs. They spoke to him, and he replied in what must have been ancient Latin. I was astonished that I could understand what he said. I heard and felt the meaning of his thoughts as he spoke the words.

He said that he was very cold and muttered that he had had enough. Yumiko took his hand and caressed his cheek, and as she did so, his mouth trembled. She and Lucio lifted him up and walked him over to Margred. Standing in front of her, his knees started to buckle, but Lucio whispered in his ear. Slowly, Livius Tuskus straightened, and stood at attention in front of his tormentor. Margred looked up dully as he did so, with her hand straying toward her dirk.

Lucio and Yumiko released him and stepped back. With a great effort, Tuskus lifted his arm in a Roman salute and then knelt in front of Margred, placing his forehead against her foot like a slave. Almost inaudibly, we heard him whisper, “Domina.”

Margred was startled by his obeisance, and withdrew her foot quickly. She seemed confused, and sat there, staring at him. Tuskus stayed where he was, perhaps out of repentance, perhaps because he was too tired to move. Even without a sense of time, two thousand years is a very long time to be kicked.

Isobel turned to Molly, and said, “Come with me, dear.”

Taking Molly’s hand, she walked over to Margred and sat down with Molly.

“Hello, Margred,” Isobel murmured.

Margred lifted her head slightly to look at Isobel, and then pointed at Molly. “Who is she?”

“This is Molly, and she has brought you a gift,” said Isobel. “She has news of your sisters, Heulwen and Rhiannon.”

Margred looked at Isobel with a tired frown. “I told you before, they are dead.”

“And I have told you, they are not.” Isobel took Margred’s hands in hers. “Do you remember what your sisters look like?”

Margred frowned again. “Of course I do,” she scoffed. Then she seemed puzzled, and said, “I think so.”

“Do you remember what their names mean?”

“Yes!” Margred glowered at Tuskus, who shifted uneasily. “I told that man many times! He killed them! Sunshine and Pure Maiden. She is not pure any more because of him!”

Isobel took Margred’s chin in her hand and turned the woman’s face back to hers, away from Tuskus. “You have been angry a long time, my dear. Are you not tired?”

Margred stared at Isobel for a moment, and then lowered her head. “Yes.”

Isobel reached forward and hugged Margred gently. Margred didn’t resist, and I could tell that Isobel was having the same effect on Margred that she had had on Molly and me. I reminded myself to ask Isobel about her history. I was convinced that she was the noblest woman that I had ever met.

After a few minutes, Isobel released Margred and asked, “Do you remember what your name means, Margred?”

Margred lowered her gaze, and said, “It means pearl.”

Isobel turned to Molly, and said, “Molly, it’s time.”

Molly reached into a pocket of her cloak and held her hand out to Margred. The pearl in her hand shimmered brilliantly against the light of our lanterns. Margred stared at the pearl with confusion, mixed with a faint, very tiny smile that appeared for the briefest of moments. Isobel took Margred’s hand and opened it, palm upward, and motioned for Molly to place the pearl in Margred’s hand.

Margred seemed mesmerized by the pearl. Its simple beauty was a startling contrast to the ugliness of the island.

Isobel smiled at her, and asked, “Would you like to see Rhiannon and Heulwen now?”

Before Margred could answer, the shimmering light around the pearl expanded and created a dome of light above Margred’s hand. She would have dropped the pearl if Isobel had not supported her hand with her own. Inside the dome a moving image appeared, and even from where we stood I could see the details clearly. It was a cottage not unlike my own, surrounded by sunny gardens. Walking through the gardens were Margred’s two sisters. They were not aware of our gaze, but all of us, including Margred, could see their faces clearly. They were holding hands as they walked, stopping for a moment here and there to inspect a flower. Their faces were beautiful and very happy.

The hardness in Margred’s face softened as she watched them. Looking up at Isobel, she whispered, “They are alive?”

“Yes, my dear,” said Isobel. “They died, and you died too, but only your earthly bodies were lost. You are in the land of the dead, but the afterlife is not all terrible. Would you like to go and visit your sisters?”

Margred stared at the image for a long time, and then, as the image faded, she exclaimed, “My sisters are alive!”

Isobel brought out a velvet pouch on a long cord from underneath her cloak and placed the pearl into it. With a kiss on Margred’s cheek, she placed the pouch around the woman’s neck and said, “There is just one more thing, Margred.”

Margred clutched the pouch in her hand as if she was afraid that it would disappear. Isobel pointed at Livius Tuskus, who was still crouched on the ground, at Margred’s feet. He looked quite pathetic and was shivering uncontrollably.

“He has repented for his crime, Margred,” Isobel said. “Do you wish him to stay in this place and suffer more?”

Margred stared at Tuskus. At first her face flashed with pain and a moment of rage, but then, as she felt the pearl in the pouch around her neck, her face grew softer. With an effort, she looked at Isobel, and said, “No. It is horrible here, but my sisters are alive. Where should he go?”

Isobel nodded at Rhys and Lucio, who came forward and lifted Tuskus up. He was frightened, not knowing where he would be taken. Molly and Isobel stood up also, and helped Margred to her feet. For a brief moment, Margred and the Roman stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Then, to prevent any further incident, Rhys and Lucio took the soldier by the arms and lifted him into the air and moved rapidly back to the ship. Isobel and Molly took Margred with them to the vehicle, while Yumiko and I followed behind.

As we entered behind the others, Yumiko and I saw Livius Tuskus and Margred seated at opposite ends of the craft, squinting against the light. Rhys and Lucio were holding the soldier tightly, for he was trembling in fear. Margred was grasping the pouch around her neck, mouthing what must have been an ancient Welsh prayer.

With a nod from Rhys, Scatman lifted the craft from the ground and we sped upwards at a tremendous speed. As we flew higher, leaving the dark realms behind, dim light began to come through the windows. We saw brief images of the different realms that we traveled through, all too fast to take in. After awhile the craft slowed and stopped with a gentle swish.

Rhys stood Livius Tuskus up and walked with him to the door. Looking at all of us with great fondness, he said, “I will meet you all later, after I take Tuskus to his new home. Thank you all for your help!” He smiled at Margred, and said, “My dear Margred, I never told you, but I am your relative. I am very happy that you came with us.”

Margred’s eye’s widened, and she sat up a little straighter. Tuskus bowed to her slightly before he turned and went down the steps. Her acknowledgment was cursory, but her rage at the soldier seemed to be gone.

Molly and I stood at the window and watched as Rhys and Tuskus walked away. We had come to rest in a land that was quite barren and dimly lit, but it looked warm compared to the island that we had left. The two men were walking toward a long building that was nestled against an outcrop of rock, with one lone tree standing next to the building. A man came out of the building and greeted Rhys warmly. He nodded to Tuskus, and ushered them both into the building. As our craft lifted off again, I turned to Isobel and asked, “What place was that?”

Isobel smiled, and patted Margred’s hand. “That is a kind of Brotherhood, where volunteers take care of people like Livius Tuskus, and help them understand the new world that they are in. Rhys went with him because he had originally been quite angry at Tuskus for what he had done, and he feels very sorry that he wasn’t able to assist Tuskus and Margred sooner. He will stay with Tuskus for a time and support him in his efforts to learn. It will help Rhys forgive Tuskus more completely.”

Margred looked stricken, and turned to Isobel. “Should I not go there also?”

“No, no, Margred,” Isobel said. “You have been a prisoner of your hatred, but Manius Livius Tuskus committed many evil deeds for which he still has to repent. Without knowing it, you helped him, because he was very arrogant when he died. The centuries that he suffered under your hand on the island have chastened him. He will grow under the Brotherhood’s care, and by helping others, he will gradually raise himself. If you wish, you can meet him again and help him directly.”

She looked at Margred seriously. “But now we have to bring you to your sisters for a brief visit. You will not be able to stay with them right away, because your own heart is very clouded still and you have many layers of resentment that you have to clear away. But you will do so, and your sisters will help you and visit you often, until the time when you can live together with them.”

Margred was silent as we sped upwards. I felt tremendous sympathy for her, for all the pain that she had suffered. I didn’t know what I would have done in her place.

Finally, the craft halted, and we walked down the steps of our vehicle to the cottage where her sisters lived. Their reunion was a wonderful thing to see. When I looked at Isobel and Molly and the other members of our team I could tell that this event was a healing process for us all. The memory of the awful images we had seen in the hologram on the beach faded as we watched the three sisters talking and laughing merrily. Rhiannon and Heulwen had known about Margred’s existence on the island, and had even gone with Rhys and Isobel to visit her. Believing that they were dead, and consumed with her own rage, she had not recognized them. Isobel whispered to us that it was their prayers for Margred, as much as anything, that had finally helped liberate Margred from her prison.

Margred wept when we told her that we had to depart, and clung to her sisters and wailed. Isobel comforted her, hugging her, and told her that she would see them again very soon. Very reluctantly, Margred followed us into our craft. Heulwen and Rhiannon were crying too, and waved until we were out of sight.

This time, we traveled downward, through a number of realms, but not as far down as the dim realm where we had left Livius Tuskus. We disembarked next to a slightly scruffy building that looked like a convent. As we touched down on the front lawn, a group of young women wearing threadbare yellow dresses came up to the craft and greeted us. Isobel and Molly and Yumiko gave Margred a long hug, while Lucio and I shook hands with her a bit more shyly. Scatman tisked at our reticence and enveloped Margred in a brotherly bear hug.

He looked her up and down and said, “Margred, don’t worry a bit. We didn’t leave you on that island, and we’re not going to leave you here. This is just a place where you can rest up and find your way again.”

Margred smiled at him, and thanked us all. She looked very exhausted, but her eyes were flickering with hope again. Clutching her pearl in its pouch around her neck, she followed the young women into the building. At the door, she turned and waved, and suddenly blew us a kiss.

We laughed and blew her kisses back to her as she entered the building.

 

• • •

Isobel was quiet as our craft ascended once more. I sensed that she missed her husband, Rhys, even though it was only a short time that they would be separated. She was gracious and warm however, as we arrived at their home. We walked into her living room and flung ourselves on her couches, feeling exhausted from our mission but overjoyed with the result. She served us tea, and we talked, in a desultory fashion, all the while thinking about the events that had taken place.

Finally, Yumiko and Lucio and Scatman stood up, signaling to Molly and I to do the same. Isobel kissed us all as we thanked her and prepared to travel to our respective homes. Yumiko and Lucio and Scatman all lived in the same realm that Rhys and Isobel inhabited, but at a great distance from each other. Since distance didn’t mean much in the spirit world, it wasn’t inconvenient. It was simply that they liked different types of terrain and surroundings. Yumiko had decided to live on the same island where we had gone swimming, for she reveled in the beauty of the sea. Lucio was an artist and a sportsman, and lived in a community of people who spent much of their time engaged in what could only be described as very extreme sports. He had casually mentioned to me that he had recently gone diving from the top of a mountain into a lake thousands of feet below. On the way down, he had composed a poem about the bird that flew down with him. Since one’s spirit body was indestructible, fear of death was no longer a deterrent for sports enthusiasts.

Scatman couldn’t live far away from other musicians, since the sound of the early Harlem jazz scene was part of his soul. He lived in the city that I had visited with Rhys when I first came to the spirit world. Being a generous soul, he spent a great deal of his time giving concerts with his buddies in the park that ran through the city.

As we walked out to the lawn in front of Rhys and Isobel’s house, I turned to them and asked, “Where does Molly live now?”

Scatman laughed and slapped me on the back. “About fifty miles from you, my boy!”

“In the same realm of the spirit world?” I asked. “We can visit each other?”

As Molly blushed furiously, Scatman and Lucio and Yumiko grinned, with their eyes twinkling merrily.

“You can have lunch together anytime,” Lucio said. “As long as it’s Italian food.”

Yumiko took pity on us, and said, “Scat, why don’t you and Lucio go home and I’ll take Edward to Molly’s house, and show them the countryside.”

They both agreed, and with a wave and a smile they were gone.

Yumiko looked at Molly and me and said, “Take my hands, both of you.”

We did so, and suddenly were standing in front of Molly’s cottage. It was very pretty, and according to Yumiko, stood on the bank of the same river that ran past my home. Still holding our hands, Yumiko lifted us high into the sky, far above Molly’s cottage, and then stopped in midair. The three of us floated there, as Yumiko pointed out different aspects of the countryside. My cottage was up river quite a distance, but we could see it clearly. In between our two cottages was a charming little village. In my previous travels, I had hiked in the opposite direction, toward the mountains, and had not noticed the village at all.

Yumiko pointed at the people walking around the village, and said, “These are people that can be your friends, too. We all live in the realm that fits our hearts. As we grow, we can move to a higher level. You can’t visit a higher realm without the assistance of someone who lives there, or lives in a realm even higher still. But we can come and see you at any time. Just remember that growing your love for others is everything. You may get distracted, because life is so pleasant here. Remember to walk the path of love.”

She was gazing at us seriously as she spoke, and we felt humbled all of a sudden. Then, with a tinkling little laugh, she flew with us down to the ground and proceeded to teach us how to fly, and how to move from place to place with the power of thought.

After a vigorous and successful workout, we started to laugh in a very silly way, and stretched out on the grass in front of Molly’s cottage. Lying on our backs as we watched the birds fly across the sky, Molly asked Yumiko about nighttime and the stars. Before I could open my mouth and say, “I know about that! Pick me! Pick me!”, Yumiko smiled, and brought her arms together, pointed at the sky. As she did so, a dome of darkness encircled the cottage, and the stars and then the moon shimmered into view. Molly squealed with delight and clapped her hands.

As we lay on the grass and felt the warm wind blowing across our cheeks, I sighed, for the joy I felt to be with friends was immense. I started to express how grateful I was, when suddenly Yumiko stood up and looked at us with a huge smile.

Pointing at the moon, she asked, “Molly dear! Edward! Would you like to go there?”

Without waiting for us to even gasp in delight, she grabbed our hands and quite literally jumped toward the moon. We flew through the soft womb of space and had a wonderful time exploring the moon, and then the planets, and finally the stars.

But that is another story.

 

---

Author's Note: These stories are entirely fictional (at least I think they are :-). Is the spirit world as I have described? I believe that it may be similar, but since one cannot prove something like this, we'll all have to wait until we get there to find out. I have based the environment and attributes of the spirit world on many books that I have read, combined with my own personal beliefs. I particularly recommend two books that purport to be true accounts. The first is "Life in the World Unseen", by Anthony Borgia, and the second is "A Wanderer in the Spirit Lands", by Franchezzo.