Nathan Ballingrud - She Found Heaven Read online

"There aren't too many Sally Baxters in this part of town. Two, in fact, and the

  other one's an invalid."

  "Oh."

  "May I see it?"

  She went to the closet and withdrew the shoebox. It was almost hot in her hands.

  She gave it to him, and he removed the lid. The light sprang forth and bathed

  his face in a warm, white glow. It seemed to work a kind of magic on him: it

  filled in the lines on his face, softened the hard line of his mouth, darkened a

  gray streak in his hair.

  He looked at her. "Oh, thank you," he said. "Thank you."

  "That's all right. Take it."

  "I'm afraid I don't have any money..."

  "I don't want a reward. I'm just glad to be rid of it."

  Lucas removed the Heaven from the shoebox and crooked it under his left arm. He

  let the shoebox drop to the floor. He looked at her, and smiled.

  Sally was surprised as a great well of sorrow suddenly opened within her. Tears

  sprang to her eyes. "I just wanted to help people," she said. "I wanted to make

  them happy. Instead I only made things worse."

  "I know," he said. "But at least you tried." He paused, and then said, "So why

  did you give it to me?"

  She raised a hand helplessly, let it drop. "I don't want to be an arbiter

  anymore. I just want you to be happy. I should have given it to the first person

  who called, and had done with it." She closed her eyes. "I tried so hard."

  "Too hard, maybe," said Lucas. "Maybe Heaven's a lot simpler than you're letting

  it be."

  She looked at him.

  He hugged it to his chest. "Anyway," he said, "I'm glad you gave it to me. I

  think I can iron out the wrinkles."

  "I hope so."

  "Good-bye, Sally. You are a good woman."

  He went to the window and slid it open. A cool blast of ocean wind charged into

  the apartment and scampered about, upsetting papers, riffling through the leaves

  of paperback books. It carried on its back the scent of a great cold vastness,

  and with it a kind of magnificence. Lucas kicked away the screen, and it turned

  end over end in the darkness, falling to the ground hundreds of feet below. He

  climbed onto the ledge and leaped off, and the flapping end of his jacket

  transcended the boundary of itself and became instead two great wings, and he

  was flying, higher into the distance, a globe of light clutched tightly in his

  hands, and as he went more deeply into the night, and as she watched him from

  her window, the light grew smaller and smaller until it merged completely with

  the spinning lights of space, one more pinpoint of brilliance in a drifting sea

  of stars.