Chapter 2

David held out his hand hoping to calm the boy standing in front of him. He continued to probe into the his thoughts seeing horrifying images of brutality, done to him at the hands of his father and his father's friends. He'd been raped, cut, burned and his father had forced him to have a tattoo done on his ass, saying daddy's boy.

"Oh, you must have hated him," David moaned, his head beginning to hurt from the mass of images he was seeing.

"You don't know me man, you don't know anything that happened to me, quit fucking pretending you do." The kid backed away further until he was beside the driver. "You'd better shut this fucker up," he growled.

"Mister, sit back in your seat," the bus driver almost begged.

"I can't," I said softly. "Mark, I know you believe in God."

"Yeah, so what the fuck if I do? he asked.

"But there's something you don't know, Mark. Something that is much more miraculous than believing in God. That's knowing that he believes in you, too. He believes that you don't want to hurt this nice lady or the bus driver. He knows that you want to give your life to him and let him raise you up. He closed his eyes, letting God use him as a font for the boy.

Mark stood still for just a moment and then his expression changed. "Stop the bus," he told the driver.

He held the gun on the girl he'd grabbed for just a minute longer. "I'm sorry," he said to her and let her go. She fled crying to her seat.

The bus driver opened the doors. "I'm sorry," Mark said to him. He took the last step off and turned to leave.

"Wait!" the bus driver called. "What about the bomb?"

"There never was one," David said.

"How do you know? How do you know all those things you said to him?"

"Long story," David said. He winked at the driver and then took three steps back to Carlie and her wonderful mouth and beautiful tits. Then wham, out of nowhere he bumps into a wall and icy cold water was pouring over him. He reached out blindly for the handle to turn the water off. "Dammit, couldn't you let me have just a few more minutes?" He beat his head against the wall until a soft 'ahem' caught his attention.

"You look ridiculous," David said, staring at the middle aged woman with her hair up in curlers and face cream smeared over her face.

"I didn't put you on that bus to let you get your ... your bell rung," she said disgustedly. "You almost missed your cue on that one David. You really need to get your mind out of your pants and on your assignments if you expect to get back to heaven."

He stepped over the small lip of the shower, squelching cold water in his boots again. "You know, these are alligator boots, they weren't made for dunking in water."

"Quit acting like a tom around a feline in heat and I won't have to dunk you to get your attention. Do you know who sent luscious little Carlie?"

"No," David said catching on to what he was saying, "no way. Why would he do that?"

"Because he wants chaos and terror and all the things I've sent you down here to stop. You don't think he doesn't have his forces out there too, do you?

"But why does he have to be Carlie?" David almost whined. He followed the woman out into a kitchen that was almost too neat. Smelling coffee, he hunted up a cup and poured himself one, turning to look at the woman who had sat down at the table.

She shook her head and David turned back to the coffee maker and sat the carafe down. Turning back to the table, he almost dropped his cup. "Oh now that's just sick," he said, staring at the apparition of Carlie, down to the tank top. When she opened her mouth to say something, it came out as God's voice.

"Come on, you wanted a couple more minutes with me. Well, here I am."

"Man that's just wrong," David said, dropping down across from the beautiful Carlie at the table. "Please, someone else, okay?"

"I can do that," God said. The image of Carlie changed to one that almost shocked David into silence. "My grandmother? You had to choose my grandmother?"

"Well, now maybe you'll show me some respect. The deep voice coming out of the tiny birdlike woman was freaky. David sipped his coffee, letting his elbows rest on the table.

"I didn't raise you like that David Emory Stewart."

"Please," David said, "before I need to go see a shrink, can you just give me my next assignment."

"This one is a bit difficult," God said.

"Like the others weren't? David sat down his cup. "Wait, you're not trying to make me a saint, are you? I mean isn't it three miracles decided by the church dogma that decides who the saints are? I don't want to be a fucking saint."

"Why not?" God asked.

"Have you ever seen them? They have their noses in the air, walking around like they're you or something." He realized what he'd said a moment before God stood up. "Shit, boss, I'm sorry ... OUCH," he yelled rubbing at his arm where God as his grandmother smacked him with her cane.

"Stand up!" God said, glaring at him.

David stood, still rubbing at his arm. A whoosh of wind had his hair lifting from his head and then he looked down, almost screaming in terror at where he was.

Ten inches of cement held his feet from falling off the twenty-seven story building. He stared down at that dizzying height and felt the coffee in his stomach turn. Looking behind him quickly, he jumped own off the ledge and onto the roof of the building. "Shit," he breathed. He rolled his eyes skyward before turning to check out the view.

"Who are you?"

He spun, the long coat flaring away from him. "I could ask the same of you?" he said, staring at the pretty woman. She had big blue eyes and short blond hair that feel to just the top of her collar.

"It doesn't matter who I am," she said softly. "Nothing much matters any more."

"Of course it does," David said taking a step to where the woman casually sat atop the very same ledge he'd just jumped down from. "Why don't you come over here and we can talk?"

"What's to talk about?" the girl said, swinging one leg over the edge and straddling the edge. She looked as if she could go either way and David knew he'd have to be careful.

"Oh there are so many things we could talk about. I'm a bit afraid of heights though, so do you think you could come over here?"

"I like it where I am," the girl whispered. She stared down at the drop, her eyes huge. He could hear the sound of fire trucks and police cars pulling up. Their sirens were loud, even up this far.

"Will you at least tell me your name?" David asked.

"Sheri McMahan," he heard her say, though she didn't quit looking down the long drop.

"Sheri, that's a pretty name."

"Do you think compliments will keep me from jumping?" she asked, glancing at him.

"No, not if you're determined. I'd like to know why though. What could be so terrible to make you give up the hope of heaven for committing suicide?"

"Heaven," she said, "yeah right. Like such a place exists. There's nothing after this, absolutely nothing. A black hole where I can go and just forget."

"Forget what?" David asked quickly. He saw the tears start in her eyes and she lifted up one of her hands. In it was a picture of a tiny blond baby with her big blue eyes. "Who is that?"

"Her name was Joy," Sheri said. "I woke up one morning and realized she'd let me sleep the night. When I got to her crib," she stopped a sob shaking her shoulders. "They said she had SIDS."

David glanced up at the heavens above him. He was out of his element here. A suicidal mother who had nothing to lose wasn't his idea of a picnic in the park.

"Where's Joy's father?" he asked softly. "Maybe I could call him."

"You'd have to call prison. Joy's daddy was a rapist."

Open mouth, insert foot and start chewing. Shit!

"What about your parents, Sheri? Don't you think they'd miss you?" He moved a bit closer knowing he'd probably not be able to talk this one down.

"My mom disowned me when she found out I was keeping a rapist's baby. My dad, he works eighteen hours a day and is never around."

"Don't you have anyone? Friends? Family?"

"No, I'm alone now that Joy's gone." She turned away from him, staring down at the long drop again. Both of them jumped when the door to the roof slammed open and four policemen burst through it.

"Stay back!" Sheri said. I could see her moving her other leg, getting ready to swing it over the ledge.

"Sheri wait!" he called, moving closer until she stopped moving and stared at him. "What if I can show you that there is such a thing as heaven and that your baby is there, waiting to be reborn? Will you come off the ledge?"

"How?" she asked. "How are you going to do that?"

"I would need to touch you," David said.

"No, you just want a reason to get close enough to grab me."

"How about if I reach out and you touch my fingers," David said. "You'll be touching me, I won't touch you."

She seemed to think about it and David could hear the police behind him that were muttering. But they didn't seem likely to interfere.

"Okay, but if I think it's some kind of trick..." she let her voice trail off and David knew what she meant. He held out his hand feeling her cold fingers take his. "Close your eyes," he said softly and when she did, he showed her Joy and let her see where her daughter was and what she would be missing if she killed herself.

When she opened her eyes, tears streaked down her cheeks. "Is that place real?" she asked David.