Called To Serve Again
By
Jeffrey Olsen
This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Olsen, Jeffrey, 1969-
Called To Serve Again / by Jeffrey Olsen.
Summary: When Bill Hughes is tragically killed in a car accident, he reluctantly learns that there was a special reason for his death and he accepts an assignment to serve as a special ‘guardian angel’ for his younger brother, Jacob, who is struggling with his decision whether to serve a mission for the LDS Church.
ISBN 978-0-61555-557-7
LCCN: 2011918783
Called To Serve Again
Published by Shoeshine Boy Publishing
West Jordan, Utah 84081
Cover art copyright © 2011 by Jeffrey Olsen
Cover design copyright © 2011 by Jeffrey Olsen
Copyright © 2011 Jeffrey Olsen
ISBN 13: 978-0615555577
ISBN-10: 0615555578
Smashwords Edition, November 2011
This book is available in print at most online retailers.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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To Dawn, my loving wife,
and Erin, Alex, Drew, and Ashley.
CONTENTS
Chapter 7: The End of A Long Hard Day
Chapter 13: The Birthday Party
Chapter 22: The Baptismal Service
Chapter 25: Well Done, Thou Good and Faithful Servant
It has been eight years since my sister-in-law passed away during childbirth, leaving behind five children and a loving husband. Her unexpected death stunned the entire family, and left me with many questions. Why would the Lord take a loving mother, a returned missionary with a valiant testimony of the gospel, away from her family? What would she be doing now, and how would this be more important than raising her children?
In my search for answers, I came up with the idea for this book. To any readers who might be interested in learning more about the Spirit World and the after-life, I would wholly recommend two books that I relied upon heavily and am grateful for their teachings: The Life Beyond, by Robert L. Millet and Joseph Fielding McConkie. Bookcraft, Salt Lake City, Utah, 1986; and The Promise of Discipleship, by Neal A. Maxwell. Deseret Book Co., Salt Lake City, Utah, 2001 (see especially Chapter 9, “The Spirit World”).
I would like to thank the members of both of my reading groups in West Jordan who graciously gave me encouragement and feedback on the various revisions of my manuscript: Wendy Elliott, Janice Sperry, Paulette Inman, Daron Fraley, Robbie and Kaycee McCleve, and Debi Rasmussen. I am also grateful to Christy Hardy for her comments and suggestions. My wife, Dawn, daughter, Erin, my sister, Amy Bone, and my mother, Judy Olsen, all gave me excellent ideas and suggestions that were invaluable during the revision process. Lastly, I want to thank my family and extended family who helped make this book possible, even if it was through nothing more than your example in the days following the passing of our dear sister, wife, mother, daughter, and sister-in-law: Margaret Evans Langford.
The drone of the evening janitor’s vacuum was an obvious clue that he should have left work already, but Bill Hughes was too consumed with the data on his computer monitor to take notice.
Bill’s Uncle Roy had helped him to get his first job after graduating from college, and now, eight months later, he was on track to be promoted to a salaried position faster than any other associate in the firm’s history. But after hitting a home run with each of his first three projects, this most recent assignment was not going as planned.
On Bill’s myopic radar screen, he was preoccupied with a few things that he thought were quite important. First, he knew his boss, Mr. Withers, expected great things from the newest associate in the firm—he was Roy Hughes’ nephew after all. Second, he had no idea what had gone wrong with the calculations for the roadway design, and he knew it was nowhere near ready to present to the senior partners by the scheduled deadline in three days. Lastly, since he had worked straight through lunchtime, his stomach was growling and he had an enormous headache that was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the video display before his eyes.
However, there was one thing that Bill did not realize. From the nearest corner of the darkened office suite, Bill was being watched very closely, and it wasn’t the janitor.
Although an inner voice was nagging him that he was forgetting something very important, his frustration was at the boiling point as he continued to wrestle with the computer mouse. He scrolled the cursor across the screen, searching the numerous functions linking the multiple data points, completely unaware of anyone or anything else in the suite at this late hour.
As he sat pondering what else he could try to rectify the fractured figures before him, the phone rang out sharply against the distant hum of the vacuum. Bill jumped in his chair as the clanging bell broke his concentration. He studied the telephone for a moment before it registered that the call must be for him, and he picked it up on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” his wife asked.
“I’m still at work. Where else would I be?”
“Well, I thought you would be on your way home,” Julie’s voice was sharp and filled with disappointment. “Don’t you remember I asked you to come home early tonight so that I could go to my Relief Society meeting?”
Bill tipped his head back. “No, I didn’t remember.”
“Can’t you just take the kids over to Mom’s house?” Bill asked. “She loves to watch them.”
“Bill, we’re at your mother’s home right now, but you know she can’t watch Hannah and Sarah tonight,” Julie said. “Your parents have their bowling league on Tuesdays, and you know how your mother looks forward to her ‘therapy’ each week.”
“Well, what about Jake?”
“Your little brother?” Julie asked. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, he could watch them for a little while ... maybe.”
“Come on, Bill, he couldn’t change a diaper if his life depended on it.”
“But, Julie, my project’s not ready, and I have to present it before the partners this Friday.”
“Ever since you took this job, there has always been some deadline, or some other meeting or assignment to tend to rather than you spending time with your family,” Julie said. “I have tried my best to support you and your new job, trying to take care of the girls without placing demands on your time, but I really wanted to go to Relief Society tonight.”
“What for? Are they going to show you how to can peaches? Or maybe a new recipe for pot stickers or egg rolls or something?” He would ordinarily have laughed at his own joke—Julie hated Chinese food—but he was in too foul a mood.
Julie sighed. “It doesn’t matter what they are doing tonight—I just needed a break, Bill. I haven’t been to a Relief Society meeting since before Sarah was born. Even still, I just wanted to see some of my friends, maybe even have an adult conversation and talk about something besides nursery rhymes or cartoons.”
Bill glanced over at the calendar on the wall, which boldly listed all of his deadlines at work, and there in big red letters was another reminder of his yet-to-be-finished project.
“Well, Julie, do you want me to lose my job? Mr. Withers is expecting great things, and if I let him down, there’s no way I will be promoted to junior partner anytime soon. In fact, if I blow this presentation, well, I don’t think I’ll be able to find another job that pays as well as this one.”
“Of course I don’t want you to lose your job, Bill, but all the money in the world isn’t worth this.”
“I know, I know, Julie, but I just can’t get these figures to balance...” Bill said. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples to try to abate his raging headache.
Julie sighed again. “Fine, Bill, I didn’t realize you still had so much to do to get your project ready. I’m sorry for disturbing you. The girls and I will see you later tonight.”
“Julie, wait...” Bill looked to the edge of his desk where an 8x10 picture sat of Julie and their two small daughters, five-month-old Sarah and three-year-old Hannah. He was fighting a losing battle with his spreadsheet tonight, anyway, and he knew that now it would be even harder to concentrate on his work because the smiling picture on the corner of his desk would prick his conscience more and more with each passing moment. He resigned himself to returning early the next morning to start piecing together his presentation.
“I’m coming home; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Are you sure?” Julie asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, the girls haven’t had anything to eat yet. Would you mind grabbing some hamburgers on your way home so I can get ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, Bill. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
As he hung up the phone, the familiar knot in his stomach tightened a little more, and he shook his head as he wondered how he was ever going to salvage his report in less than two days. Maybe Julie was right—no amount of money was worth this much pressure and stress.
When he reached under his desk to pull out his briefcase, Bill stopped suddenly as he heard a sound just behind him—not the clamor of the night janitor’s vacuum, but a different, more subtle reverberation. He stood quickly to peer over his cubicle walls and scan the darkened office, but he could see no obvious source of the faint sound.
“Must be your mind playing tricks on you,” Bill said. “You really have been working too hard when you start hearing things and talking to yourself.”
With that, Bill threw on his old, gray overcoat, grabbed his tattered briefcase, and headed out of his cubicle towards the elevator door. Just before he pushed the down arrow, he paused with his hand in midair as he heard the sound again. He quickly turned his head and nervously scanned the office, but it was still just as empty as a few moments ago. He shook his head as he turned and punched the elevator call button.
* * * * * *
“Do you think he heard us?” Elder Riley watched as Bill punched the elevator call button.
“Even if he did, he would not be allowed to see us.”
The elevator doors opened, and they followed closely behind Bill as he stepped inside. Bill pushed the button for the ground floor and the elevator started to descend.
“Are you sure he is the one?” Elder Riley asked.
“Yes.”
“But Elder Dixon, he is so caught up in the temporal things of the world right now. His priorities are all messed up. How can he possibly help us?”
“I don’t know for sure, Elder, but remember, we do not see what the Lord sees, because while we look on the outward appearance, the Lord looketh on the heart.”
“Well, the Lord must see a lot more in Bill Hughes than I do.”
“You will see.” The elevator doors opened to reveal the ground floor lobby and they continued behind Bill as he hurried toward the exit leading to the parking terrace.
* * * * * *
“Bill’s on his way.” Julie said to her mother-in-law as she hung up her cell phone and slipped it back into the diaper bag.
“Thank heavens!” Donna said. “I sure didn’t want to miss our bowling night, and especially tonight when Easter hams are on the line.” Julie’s mother-in-law sat on the couch holding Sarah in her arms while Hannah sat on the floor coloring. Julie started gathering up Sarah’s toys and packing them back into the diaper bag.
“That was so nice of you to offer to watch the girls,” Julie said. “But, Bill has worked late every night for the past three weeks. He can watch the girls one night, or else if this keeps up, they will forget what he looks like.”
“Are things going better for him at work?” Donna asked. “It seems he has been working an awful lot of late nights.”
“I’m not sure. He is supposed to complete some huge project he is working on by the end of the week, and it’s not ready yet. He worries a lot about losing his job; he thinks he will never find another job like this one.”
“I think he worries too much,” Donna said. “He is a smart boy, and he will do just fine.”
“He has so far,” Julie said as she held up a pink jacket. “Come on, Hannah, time to go.”
“No, Mom, I need to finish coloring this picture.”
“Why don’t you just take that coloring book with you and finish your picture at home?” Donna offered.
“Really, Grandma?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind, Donna?”
“I don’t mind one bit. You are doing such a wonderful job, Hannah.”
“What do you tell Grandma?” Julie said.
“Thanks, Grandma.” Hannah jumped up to her feet and carefully closed the coloring book so as not to bend the pages. As Julie reached down to help Hannah get her jacket on, she heard the back door open from the kitchen.
“Is that you, Jake?” Donna called out.
Her question was answered by the sound of the refrigerator door opening.
“Jake, do you have to work tonight?”
Jake, who was nearly seven years younger than Bill, still lived in his parent’s basement.
“No, Mom …” Jake hollered as he rounded the corner into the living room holding a can of soda pop and a bag of chips. “Oh… hi, Julie.”
“Hi, Jake,” Julie smiled at the startled look on Jake’s face, and he quickly changed his demeanor to a more respectful tone.
“I’m going over to Dave’s,” Jake said.
“On a Wednesday night?” Donna asked. “Dave isn’t having one his parties, is he?”
“Come on, Mom – can’t we have some friends over without calling it a party?” Jake rolled his eyes and started heading back toward the kitchen. “We’re just gonna play some video games. Daniel goes into the Navy next week, so this might be our last big gaming get-together for a while.”
“Please don’t stay out late,” Donna called after him.
Jake yelled back, “I’m not a kid anymore, Mom. I don’t have to be to work until noon tomorrow, so it’s not like I have to be in bed early.”
“I wish you wouldn’t stay up so late. You should take better care of yourself.”
“Sure thing, Mom,” Jake opened the door, “See you later. Bye, Julie,” Jake walked out quickly and shut the door behind him.
“I’m so worried about him,” Donna said.
“Shouldn’t Jake be leaving on his own mission soon?”
“That’s just it—he isn’t sure about going on a mission. He says he is still trying to make up his mind,” Donna explained.
“Really? I always thought he was planning on a mission, just like Bill did.”
Donna shook her head, “Maybe when he was younger, but now he’s dragging his feet and not so sure.”
“I had no idea.” The thought of Jake not going on a mission made Julie sick. She had just assumed that Jake was just going to leave when he turned nineteen.
“Ted and I have been trying everything we can to encourage Jake, but we’re not really sure what his concerns are about a mission. He won’t say. Lately, he has been spending much of his time playing video games over at Dave’s apartment.” Donna shook her head, “I really don’t like that Dave.”
“I don’t believe I’ve seen him come around here much.”
“No, I suspect Dave knows how we feel about him,” Donna frowned. “I think lately even Ted is worrying too.”
Julie stopped fast when she heard that Jake’s father, Ted, was also worried. Ted was usually a fairly good judge of character, and if he felt something was not right, then it probably wasn’t.
Donna continued, “Jake says I worry too much, but I wouldn’t worry so much if he had better friends around to influence him. Unfortunately, all of his good friends have already left on their own missions.”
“There is no way you could ever worry too much about your children,” Julie said. She leaned forward and put her arm around Donna’ shoulders as she tried to reassure her. “I never knew I could worry so much until Hannah came along. I can only imagine how hard it will be when she is a teenager! I am sure I will just be a basket case.”
“Well, it seems the more I worry, the more Jake resists,” Donna said.
“When does Jake turn nineteen?” Julie asked.
“Next month.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll make the right decision. There’s still time.”
Donna hesitated. “I don’t know...”
* * * * * *
Bill darted in and out of the freeway traffic, driving as fast as he dare while trying to get through the tail-end of the rush-hour commute. About one mile before his exit, he came upon two large semitrailer trucks driving side-by-side in the two outside lanes. They were both traveling well below the posted speed limit, so Bill quickly darted to the inside lane, sped past the two semis, and then hurriedly pulled all the way back into the right lane as he was nearly to his exit. One of the truckers blew his horn at Bill because of how close Bill had swerved to his truck.
Elder Riley turned back to look at the diesel behind them and marveled how truly close Bill’s car had come to clipping the front bumper of the large truck.
“He’s going to get himself killed.” Elder Riley shook his head in disbelief.
“No, it’s not time just yet.” Elder Dixon said.
Bill reluctantly slowed to a stop as he came to a red light at the bottom of the off-ramp.
“Come on… come on…,” he was nervously tapping the steering wheel with his hands.
When the light finally changed, Bill punched the accelerator and squealed the tires slightly. He glanced nervously in the rearview mirror to make sure there were no police cars around. Although he was trying to hurry home so Julie could get to her meeting on time, he figured his dear wife would be much more upset if he ended up with a speeding ticket.
“Well, with driving skills like these, maybe they can assign him to public transit.”
“Rest assured, Elder Riley, he is not being recruited for his driving skills.”
As he approached the next intersection, he stopped for yet another red light. “Dang these red lights,” Bill said to himself. “Sorry Julie, I’m hurrying as fast as I can.”
“Is it time, Elder Dixon?”
“Almost… I can take it from here, Elder Riley. You had better get back to your assignment.”
“You’re right. Thanks for letting me tag along this afternoon.”
“No problem. We’ll see you again tomorrow.”
Elder Riley looked one more time at Bill, who had picked one of his reports out of his briefcase and was scanning down the figures on the page while he waited at the light. Elder Riley hopped out, but before leaving, he leaned back into the car through the rear window.
“You know, Elder, I’ll bet in his haste to get home, he probably forgot about the hamburgers.”
“I think you’re right, Elder Riley. I better remind him.”
As Elder Riley turned and walked away, Elder Dixon leaned forward from the backseat and spoke softly, but resolutely, into Bill’s ear.
“Don’t forget the hamburgers, Bill. Julie asked you to stop and get some dinner for you and the girls. Remember? You need to turn here for the hamburgers.”
As the light changed to green, Bill began to accelerate along with the rest of the line of cars in his lane, but then he suddenly let off the gas pedal.
“Oh, dang it! I almost forgot the hamburgers.”
Bill quickly glanced in his side mirror and peeked over his shoulder. Luckily, there were no cars in the turn lane, so he quickly pulled into the middle lane and eased out into the intersection.
Just as the last car in the opposing lane of traffic passed through the intersection, Bill began to turn. Unfortunately, at the same moment, a very large, speeding dump truck blew through the red light and also entered the intersection. The truck’s brakes had gone out, and although the driver was blowing his horn, Bill did not hear the warning, and the diesel’s bumper slammed into the driver-side door of Bill’s car going way too fast. Bill did not even see what hit him.
Sarah was hungry, and fussy, so Julie figured she better get her some Cheerios to snack on while she tried to get ready for her Relief Society meeting. As Julie was placing Sarah in her high chair, the doorbell rang.
“Mommy, someone’s at the door,” Hannah yelled at the top of her lungs. She scampered off the couch and ran in her bare feet toward the front door.
“I wonder who would be coming to visit us now.”
Hannah fumbled momentarily with the deadbolt, and then swung the door open just as Julie was coming up behind her.
“Grandma!” Hannah squealed with delight as she jumped up and down.
“Couldn’t get enough of these urchins today?” Julie opened the door wide to let her mother-in-law inside.
“I’m afraid not,” Donna smiled.
“What about your bowling night?”
“Well, we’re on our way now, but I thought you might need this.” Donna opened her hand to reveal Sarah’s green pacifier.
“Oh, thank you. You’re right—we probably would have been up all night. She’s such a fuss-bucket without her binky.”
“Did Bill make it home then?”
“No, not yet. I thought he would have been home by now, but maybe the hamburger drive-thru was busy.”
“Well, I can help for a few minutes until he gets here.”
“I thought you were on your way to go bowling?”
“Yes, but we have a little time. Ted might be upset to miss warm-ups, but he’ll get over it.”
Julie looked at the clock on the wall. She had hoped Bill would be watching the kids by now, but since he had not made it home yet, Donna’s help would be welcome. Perhaps she could still make it on time to the church.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Julie felt like she asked so much of her mother-in-law already.
Donna stepped back out onto the porch and hollered at Ted. “Ted, turn the car off and come inside. We need to watch the grandkids for a few minutes until Bill gets home.”
Ted leaned out the window. “But we’re gonna miss warm-ups.”
“It won’t matter that much. Come inside for a minute.”
“You’re going to stay, Grandma?” Hannah asked.
“For a little bit.”
Hannah grabbed her grandmother by the hand and anxiously pulled her towards the couch, “Come on, Grandma, read me a story.”
“Thank you so much,” Julie said and then quickly returned to the bathroom to finish her hair and make-up.
As Ted entered the small home, he put his hands on his hips and asked, “What do you mean it won’t matter? We’ll never win a ham tonight without warm-ups.”
* * * * * *
Julie emerged from the bedroom refreshed and ready to go. She smiled as she rounded the corner and saw Donna reading a story to Hannah, who was sitting on her lap, while Ted sat next to Sarah’s high chair and helped her finger Cheerios into her mouth. However, Julie’s smile was short-lived as she looked at the clock on the wall and shook her head.
“I don’t know what is taking Bill so long. He told me he was on his way.”
“I hope he isn’t having car trouble. Have you tried calling him on his phone?”
“Yes, but it went straight to voice mail. He’s always letting the battery go dead. I’m sure he forgot the hamburgers and had to go back, so hopefully he’ll be here any minute.”
“Is there anything else we can help with?”
“I can take it from here, Donna. You and Ted better get going...”
At that moment, the doorbell rang again.
Julie stopped as she tried to think of who else might be coming to visit. It couldn’t be her home teachers—there was still two weeks to go until the end of the month. Could it be a salesman? Or would Bill ring the doorbell as a joke? He always tried to make her laugh whenever she was mad at him.
“I don’t have time for this,” Julie muttered under her breath as she reached for the doorknob. She swung the door open to find two police officers on the small porch. She looked at them with a mix of concern and puzzlement on her face.
“Is this the residence of William Hughes?” one of the officers inquired.
A shiver ran down her spine.
“Well, yes, but Bill’s not home from work yet,” Julie explained. “He should be here any minute. Do you need to speak to him?”
“Is everything OK, Julie?” Donna asked from behind.
“Are you his wife?” the other officer asked.
“Yes, I’m his wife,” Julie forced a smile.
“Ma’am, I’m Lieutenant Mark Stevens from the Sandy City Police Department,” the first officer introduced himself, then pointing behind him, “and this is my partner, Officer Jim Bellows. Do you mind if we come in?”
Julie felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her heart racing in her chest. “Uh ... of course. Please come in.”
As she closed the door behind them, Lieutenant Stevens motioned toward the couch in the little family room, “Do you mind if we have a seat, Ma’am?”
“Sure, Officer.”
Donna stood with Hannah to make room for the police officers and asked, “Ted, why don’t you take Hannah into the bedroom and help her get her pajamas on?”
“Yes, Hannah, go with Grandpa and get your ‘jamas on, OK?” Julie said.
Hannah was looking warily at the officers anyway, and she practically leapt into Ted’s arms and he carried her from the room. Julie turned back to the policemen, and with a trembling hand motioned toward the couch.
Lieutenant Stevens and Officer Bellows both sat down, and then waited for Julie to sit down in the rocking chair across from them before continuing.
“So, officers, what is this about?”
Lieutenant Stevens cleared his throat, “Ma’am, I regret to inform you, but your husband Bill was killed this evening in a car accident.”
“No, I told you officer, he’s on his way home from work right now.”
“That’s right, officers,” Donna said, “Julie just barely talked to him on the phone as he was leaving the office.”
Julie hadn’t noticed earlier, but Lieutenant Stevens held a small, black bag in his hand.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your husband’s vehicle was T-boned on the driver’s side by a large dump truck. The driver reports that the brakes went out on his rig, and he was unable to avoid your husband’s car as he entered the intersection at the bottom of a hill. Our investigation is ongoing, but it appears at this point to have been an accident. We were able to identify your husband by his personal affects at the scene.”
Although tears began to well up in her eyes, she held on to a ray of hope that somehow this was all just a terrible mistake. Surely Bill would walk through the door any second and then the police would see that they had the wrong home.
“Do you recognize these items, Ma’am?”
A feeling of dread crept over her as she watched him slowly open the opaque plastic bag and pull out a brown wallet and a silver cell phone. Julie quickly grabbed for the wallet, holding it nervously, but eying it warily just the same.
“Most wallets are brown aren’t they?” Julie said, more to herself than anyone else.
At first, something inside of her would not let her open the wallet, yet she knew that she must to show the officers they were at the wrong house. She fumbled with the wallet, weighing it carefully in her hands, then swallowed hard and slowly pulled it open. There smiling up at her from the inside of the brown, faded leather was a picture that drove a dagger through her heart.
“Nooooooo!” Julie let out an agonizing scream. The wallet fell from her hands, landing face up on the floor showing a portrait of Sarah and Hannah that had been taken just a few weeks ago. Donna looked down at the wallet on the floor, and she too started to cry as she rushed over to hug Julie tightly.
Bill lay there for several moments unable to open his eyes. He rubbed his forehead trying hard to remember what he had been doing.
Going to work . . .?
No . . . It seemed that he was supposed to be going home, but he couldn’t remember for sure.
He slowly opened his eyes, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head. He blinked a few times; rubbing his eyes as the world gradually came into focus. That was when Bill realized he was looking at a tire—a very big tire—resting across both of his legs. He looked around at what used to be the inside of his car—the steering wheel was gone, glass all over the place, and it was dark. Little by little, he began to realize that the wheel in front of him belonged to a very large truck. Strangely, it didn’t seem to weigh very much, and he was not really feeling pain anywhere, yet, looking over his body and the mangled wreckage of his car, it did not make any sense that he felt no pain.
Am I paralyzed?
Bill reached out and tried to push away from the wheel, but he couldn’t move, and the tire wouldn’t budge. He tried to wiggle his feet and toes, but he could not tell if they were moving. His pants were soaked with blood, and there appeared to be a piece of bone sticking out at an odd angle through a hole in the leg of his pants. In fact, he was amazed to see a lot of blood, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from, or if it was even his.
Without warning, he felt as though he was being lifted up out of the wreckage by a pair of hands.
Finally, the paramedics are here to help me out.
He strained to see who was lifting him out of the vehicle, but there was no one there. He noticed a crowd of people had gathered around his car and the truck, but they were all looking down into the wreckage. Bill followed their eyes back to the scene, and then he saw … a body … sitting beneath the truck’s tire.
Who is that down there if I’m up here?
Now that he was out of the car, he felt strangely light. He realized that he was still moving, drifting slowly up into the air. He looked down at his legs to inspect his injuries, but they were no longer there; his leg wasn’t broken and his hands were not bloody. As he looked closely, he realized he could see through his hand a little bit.
He regarded the mangled car below and saw that more people had gathered. Sirens were coming from off in the distance. Somebody was still in the wreckage, but now he couldn’t be sure who it was because his body was fine. Bill looked around, scanning across the horizon and up into the sky, unsure of exactly what was going on.
He looked back down again and realized he was up above the rooftops and streetlights now. A bird flew out of a nearby tree as he passed by the top of its large branches. Down on the street below, police were ushering people back from the wreckage. Two firefighters were up on top of the car peering down inside. Bill could not see their faces, but they were frantically reaching down inside what was left of his sedan. Smoke was pouring up from the dump truck, partially obscuring his view, but the whole scene below was getting smaller and smaller with each passing second.
Little by little, the realization of what had just occurred was dawning across his conscious. Was he really … dead?
“How could that be?” Bill said to himself. “What about my wife and daughters?”
He continued to drift slowly upward without any change in speed or direction. Bill threw his hands over his eyes and shook his head, “Oh no, this can’t be happening.”
He desperately tried climbing back downward, but he continued to be pulled by some unseen force, some tractor beam pulling him ever upward.
“I have to go back,” he yelled, but he was not sure to whom. “Help me! I need to go back down there.”
With all of his might, he reached and pulled and fought, he even tried flapping his arms, but he could not reverse his direction. Down below, he could barely make out the streets now. He felt like crying as the realization sank in that he wouldn’t be going home tonight – that he might never go home again. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and a burning, gripping sensation in his throat.
“This isn’t fair. Let me go back, please.”
Abruptly, a bright light appeared above him, as if somebody turned on a spotlight in a dark room and pointed it at him. He continued upward, being pulled into the center of the light. He tried to shield his eyes and peer into the brightness to see where he was going, but it was too intense. As he drew closer to the light, it enveloped him. It felt warm. He looked back to where he had come from, and he saw the ground was long gone. He peered down at his feet and saw he was standing on something like an escalator, or one of those moving walkways at the airport, moving upward into the light.
He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though he was entering into a large room. He could see shadows emerging – gray outlines of people standing in the room.
What is this place? Where am I?
He stopped moving as he reached the top of the escalator. He looked around, unsure where to go in this large room of people when a hand thrust towards him. He reached out and grasped it, and slowly looked up to the face of someone who looked familiar, but he couldn’t decide. He puzzled for a minute, looking at this face. It was an older gentleman in a white suit and tie, with a warm smile and gray hair. His eyes twinkled as he shook Bill’s hand.
“Don’t you recognize me, Bill?”
Where had he seen this person before? Then it registered. He was looking into the face of his bishop from when he was a young boy growing up in his old ward.
“Bishop Dixon,” Bill sheepishly smiled and shook hands. “Where are we?”
But as Bill asked, he remembered that his old bishop had passed away just after he had returned from his mission and gone off to college – he had missed the funeral, but he was certain that his mother mentioned this in one of her letters.
“Welcome to the Spirit World, Bill,” the bishop patted him on the shoulder. “Let me show you around. There are a few people here that would like to welcome you.”
The bishop took Bill by the elbow and proceeded into the large group of people gathered in the room. He did not recognize most of the faces, although a few looked remotely familiar. He met his grandmother’s grandmother on his mom’s side, and her mother, and her sisters, and several of their children, and distant cousins, great-uncles and great-aunts, and so on around the room, with family members from all branches of his family tree. There were also a few people from his neighborhood when he was growing up who had been much older than Bill and passed away years ago.
One face he recognized was Mrs. Dally, his old Primary chorister from when he was a young boy. As Mrs. Dally grabbed Bill in a huge bear hug, he saw large tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up and said, “Welcome home, Billy, I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Sister Dally.”
As they continued through the room of well-wishers, Bishop Dixon explained, “Nearly all of these people are family, as well as other loved ones who have been associated with your life. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your view, many of your immediate family members have not passed on to this world yet.”
Bill nodded his understanding, but said nothing as they continued through the throng of people. He gazed around the large room and noticed he could not see the opposite wall yet. He could not even really make out a ceiling, but the vast hall was well lit by several large chandeliers. The glass chandeliers were beautiful, with hundreds of flickering candles casting small rainbows across every surface in the room.
“Typically,” Bishop Dixon explained, “your father or grandfather will welcome you home, but neither of them has passed on yet, so I was asked to help you here today. However, there is one of your family members with us today who is eager to see you.”
Bill turned and the crowd parted slightly, revealing a familiar face that he instantly recognized as his cousin.
“Well, hello Andy,” Bill whispered.
“Hi, Bill. Good to see you again.”
“Good to see you, too ... I guess.”
“So you were in a car accident tonight?
“Yeah, just barely happened....”
“Tough break. Hopefully it wasn’t too painful?”
“No, I suppose it wasn’t too bad. Kind of sudden ... didn’t see it coming.”
“Well, the shock of it all should wear off in a few weeks.”
“Few weeks?”
Andy chuckled, “Months, maybe? Some days I still pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Seems surreal even now.”
For a moment, Bill felt like he might pass out. Andy started laughing, “I don’t think I have seen anyone turn as pale as you just did, and that’s difficult as a ghost. Your face was priceless just now.”
“Great...” Bill grabbed on to Bishop Dixon’s arm for support. Bishop Dixon was shaking his head and frowning at Andy.
“Hey, I’m just messing with you, man. You’ll be fine in no time. Welcome to the Afterlife.”
Bill pretended to laugh, but he still felt a little woozy. After an awkward moment not sure of what to say, Bill couldn’t quell his curiosity any longer. “There was one thing I always wanted to ask you...” Bill hesitated.
“Let me guess—suicide?”
“Yeah. Did you mean to jump, or did you accidentally fall off the trail?”
Andy and his friends were having a party up Big Cottonwood Canyon one Friday night after a high school football game. At some point, a group of the teens decided to hike up to a waterfall when they say Andy slipped and fell to his death off a steep cliff.
“Are you kidding? Why would I jump? We were just a bunch of kids, drinking beer and horsing around, and I tried to show off. Not much margin for error, though, after you’ve had too much to drink, but that’s a lesson I never had a chance to learn in my past life.”
“Sorry to hear...”
“Don’t worry,” Andy cut him off, “this place isn’t so bad. Kind of grows on you.”
“So, will I be seeing you much?”
“Listen, it’s refreshing to finally have someone my age from the family come over to this side of the veil, and between you and me, I would much rather hang out with you than have to deal with all these old fogies. Believe me, if you ever have to do business with one of the Anglo-Saxons from the Early Middle Ages, well, let’s just say you would be better off trying to milk an ostrich.” Bill wasn’t quite sure how to respond and didn’t have the foggiest idea what Andy was talking about.
Andy continued, “I don’t know what they will have you do. Most newbies start off working the menial jobs. I started out in materials management and religious inventories for my first couple of years, but I just got a promotion last week to work among the living, so I doubt I’ll be around much. I head out tomorrow.”
“That’s too bad—I mean, congratulations on the promotion, but it would have been nice to have your help.”
“Yeah, that’s too bad.” Andy shook his head and kind of snorted, or maybe it was a laugh, Bill wasn’t really sure. Andy looked at his watch, “Whoa! I better be going. My boss doesn’t even know I stepped away from the office for a few minutes.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Not really,” Andy shrugged. “If he says anything, I’ll just tell him I came to welcome you to the Spirit World, and I’ll stay later tonight to make up for the time I missed. Still, he hates these things, so it is better if he doesn’t know. Hey, drop a line from time to time; keep me posted how it’s going. If there’s anything you need, let me know and I’ll hook you up.”
“Gee, thanks Andy. That’s awfully nice of you.”
“Don’t mention it.” As he turned to leave, Andy waved and said, “Hope to see you again some time.”
Bill turned and continued to follow Bishop Dixon. He could see that they were finally approaching the far side of the room, but the crowd was still considerably dense, and Bill noticed that many of them were from different nationalities and cultures.
As Bill paused to study the faces of the crowd, an oriental man approached with his head bowed low.
“Um, Bishop Dixon,” Bill scratched his head, “I didn’t think I was related to anyone from China.”
“No, this man is not related to you, Bill,” Bishop Dixon smiled broadly, “but he has made it a point to be here today because he wanted to thank you in person.”
“Thank me for what?” Bill was completely bewildered as the small man dressed in simple robes took Bill’s hand in both of his and shook it vigorously.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Brother William Hughes.” The man fell to his knees as he looked up into Bill’s face, Bill could see tears streaming down the man’s cheeks. Behind the oriental man kneeling on the ground, several other men and women emerged and slowly encircled them, hugging them both. All the while, Bill was completely flabbergasted at the show of affection from a group of people he had never met before.
“Excuse me, sir,” Bill spoke softly, “but what did I ever do for you?”
“Of course. My name is Hin Mutsu Tanaka, and you performed my temple work exactly three years, eight months, and sixteen days ago.”
“Really?” Bill scratched his head. “I am sorry I don’t remember, but it really was no big deal – probably just our ward temple night.”
“Not that big of a deal?” Brother Tanaka cried in disbelief. He continued to hold onto Bill’s hand as he turned to look at the crowd gathered around them.
“My dear friend, it may not have been that big of a deal to you, but to me and my family, that date was the most important day in our lives, and we will be eternally grateful to you and your wife for going to the temple that day. You may think nothing of your actions, but you have helped to redeem my soul, and now I can live eternally with my wife and family. I thank you again, Brother William Hughes, for helping me do that which I could not do on my own.”
With that, Brother Tanaka bowed low and shook Bill’s hand one last time. Then Brother Tanaka arose, and he and his loved ones backed out of the way. At that, several more spirits and their families pressed forward to thank Bill for performing their temple ordinances. To Bill, these people had just been foreign names on a blue card, and he was merely performing his duty. It had never occurred to Bill how important the work had been to these people’s lives. Now was their first opportunity to personally thank Bill for taking the time to help them with their salvation and allow them the chance to take advantage of the Savior’s atonement in their lives. In fact, Bill didn’t believe he had attended the temple as often as he should have, yet counting wives and children, there were a few hundred souls who came to thank Bill for performing their temple work.
After quite some time had passed, he and Bishop Dixon reached a set of wooden doors at the back of the room. Bishop Dixon smiled as he opened the door where another gentleman stood patiently waiting. Bishop Dixon shook the man’s hand, and then patted Bill on the back.
“Bill, I would like to introduce you to a good friend of mine. This is Elder Redmond. He will show you to President Bell’s office for your debriefing.”
“It is so good to meet you, Bill,” Elder Redmond said as he shook Bill’s hand. “I have heard great things about you! We are truly lucky to have you help us on this side of the veil.”
“Well, I’m glad one of us is feeling lucky today,” Bill replied.
“Get back!” Elder Rogers yelled at the host of spirits gathered in front of the home. The unholy beings of various shapes and sizes, male and female, were pressing forward and yelling out boisterous threats, insults, and disparaging remarks in an attempt to add to the misery of those inside, where two police officers were sadly informing Julie and her mother-in-law of the tragic accident that had claimed Bill Hughes’ life earlier that evening.
“Please leave these good sisters alone and go about your business,” Elder Rogers stood on the front lawn, yelling above the clamor and din.
Elder Rogers and Elder Canfield were stationed in front of the home. Another missionary, Elder Grant, guarded the rear of the home.
“All is lost. All is lost.” shouted one of the dreary spirits toward the basement windows.
“You’ll never make it alone,” hollered another spirit as the group started pushing forward past the police car and up onto the front lawn.
“I said to get back,” Elder Rogers moved towards the spirits and tried to force them back off of the lawn and onto the sidewalk. He glared at the mob, warning them with his eyes not to come near the house, when a large spiritual rock came sailing towards the house and landed only inches from Elder Rogers. With that, Elder Canfield scurried up onto the front porch and turned to face the crowd. At his side, he held a brown, leather sheath from which he pulled a large, double-edged sword. As it emerged, a bright, blue flame danced to life along the entire length of the blade. When the evil spirits saw him swing the sword from side to side, none dared to step any farther onto the front lawn.
Inside the small home, the officers stood to leave. “Here is the name and address of the salvage yard where Bill’s car will be taken,” Lieutenant Stevens said. “They will be expecting your call so that you can come and claim the rest of his belongings.”
Julie did not look up or even register a response, so Donna reached out and took the card from Lieutenant Stevens. He held out another card, “This is my contact number at the station if you have any other questions or problems. It will take a few days for us to complete the police report, and then I will be sure to forward a copy on to you.” Donna also took the second card from the officer and nodded.
Julie sat motionless, staring blindly at her hands folded in her lap while tears continued to roll down her face.
“If you don’t have any other questions, we will let ourselves out,” Lieutenant Stevens patted Julie on her shoulder, “I am so sorry, Ma’am.”
He gathered his hat and followed Officer Bottoms out of the apartment, unknowingly passing through the spirit missionary who stood as a sentry on the porch.
Elder Canfield did not flinch as the two police officers walked through him and then down the driveway towards their patrol car. The crowd of evil spirits immediately pushed around the officers, shouting words of guilt and despair.
Donna stood and moved to the love seat, reaching her arm around Julie to pull her close. Julie broke down and started sobbing, her shoulders shaking violently up and down. “Nooooo!” she moaned, holding her hands to her face. For several minutes, they held each other and cried.
After a while, Donna wiped the tears from her eyes and leaned close to Julie. She kissed her on the crown of her head and whispered, “Everything will be all right.”
On the other side of Julie sat a missionary, Sister Canfield, and although Julie could not physically feel her, she had her arms wrapped tightly around Julie to comfort her as she mourned. Sister Rogers stood in front of the women with her hand resting on Donna’ shoulder, trying to comfort her as she comforted Julie. A third sister missionary, Sister Grant, knelt at Julie’s feet. Two other sister missionaries stood guard just inside the door to the apartment in case one of the adversary’s minions was able to somehow sneak into the home. They both offered silent prayers while vigilantly watching for any signs of unauthorized entry.
All three comfort missionaries talked in hushed tones, speaking words of comfort and hope from the unseen world.
“We love you, Julie”
“You will make it through this trial. We will help you.”
“The Lord will help you.”
“We are so sorry for your loss, child, but do not despair.”
As the missionaries continued, a bright light began to fill the room until it was almost blinding, and a feeling of love and warmth permeated the home. Although Julie and Donna were unaware, these sister spirits from the unseen world would be with them throughout this most tender and difficult time.
* * * * * *
“Would you please follow me?” Elder Redmond motioned to Bill.
As they continued down the long, white, dazzling hallway, he realized that everyone was dressed in white and talking in hushed voices. At times, he could hear soft organ music playing overhead from speakers scattered along the corridor. Although Elder Redmond continued to smile warmly, they proceeded in silence, which suited Bill fine as he was lost in his thoughts and deeply troubled about the welfare of his wife and daughters.
At length, they came to a white door with black lettering. As he walked through the doorway, Bill stopped as he thought he recognized the name on the door. He read the name again and wondered if it was indeed the same Max Bell who had briefly been his mission president while he was in the Missionary Training Center.
They entered a small waiting room, with chairs and a small table along the wall to the right. To his left sat a pleasant-looking woman behind a desk. Elder Redmond smiled at the person behind the desk. “Hello, Sister Strauss. How are you doing today?”
“Fine, Elder Redmond, how are you?”
“Very well, thank you. Let me introduce our newest arrival, Brother William Hughes.”
“Pleased to meet you, Brother Hughes,” replied Sister Strauss. “President Bell is expecting you, but at the moment he is on the telephone with President Romney. Please have a seat, and the President will be with you shortly.”
“Of course.” Bill felt somewhat unnerved at the fact that everyone was expecting him. He turned and quickly sat down in the nearest chair.
“Well, then, if you will excuse me,” Elder Redmond shook Bill’s hand one last time. He also shook Sister Strauss’s hand, and then he shut the door behind him as he exited the room.
Sister Strauss smiled and was about to say something to Bill, but the telephone rang and she turned to pick it up. Bill could not tell whom she was talking to on the phone, and at this moment, he really didn’t care. He only hoped President Bell could provide some answers to the many questions bouncing around his mind at the moment.
While Bill waited, he looked around the immaculately clean office. The walls were white, with carpet the color of lilacs. The furnishings were simple, yet refined. Sister Strauss sat behind a polished, oak desk, with comfortable chairs and wooden tables situated around the room. Several plants in white pots throughout the room breathed life and cheer into the environment. Behind Sister Strauss, a picture of Christ hung on the wall that was similar to ones he had seen in his Bishop’s office back home.
Sister Strauss’s silver hair was drawn up into a bun, and her glowing skin seemed radiant and fresh. She wore a long, flowing, white dress that was flocked with lace and drawn in at the waist. Even her fingernails were clean, white and flawlessly polished as she typed away at the keyboard of her computer. He noticed that the computer on her desk was free of any wires, as was the telephone.
He glanced at the small table next to his elbow and spied some magazines and a set of scriptures. He picked up the Book of Mormon and thumbed through it briefly. Sure enough, it was similar to the one he had at home, or was it? It seemed … different somehow, but he could not tell why. He set down the Book of Mormon and picked up the pile of magazines. He recognized the top magazine as this month’s edition of the Ensign, but there was another magazine below it that he had not seen before. He picked it up and read the title: The Pre-Millennial Star. He opened the cover and saw that it appeared similar in structure and design to the Ensign, but as he thumbed through the pages, he realized that the articles were written by church leaders from the past, including President Benson, President Kimball, and others. The last two magazines were the Friend and New Era.
When the interior office door opened, Bill looked up and instantly recognized the genially smiling gentleman standing there. President Max Bell was dressed in a white suit and tie. President Bell had served as the President of the Missionary Training Center when Bill started his mission. Unfortunately, not long after he completed his service as the MTC President, he was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia, and he passed away during the second year of Bill’s mission to North Carolina.
President Bell beamed as he took Bill’s hand in both of his hands and helped him to his feet. “Brother William Edward Hughes, it’s so good to see you again.”
“Out of all those hundreds of missionaries at the MTC, you remember me?”
“Of course, Brother Hughes, although it helps that you came through near the end of my time in the MTC. Won’t you please step into my office and have a seat?”