Chapter 3

Jonas was sitting on a bench in a flower garden. The day was warm but he was in the shade of the large oak right behind him. He could feel the light breeze on his face that rustled the leaves overhead. The smell of the flowers was like none he could remember. He could hear bees gathering pollen and the scurrying of squirrels as they played in the grass and bushes. The sounds of life seemed to be everywhere around him. In fact, Jonas couldn't remember ever being aware of so much life in one place.

He heard footsteps approaching from around a bend in the path. He didn't remember the path being there a moment before but it must have been. The footsteps grew closer and he tried to discern how many were coming. It sounded like two but he felt like it was three.

His wife and daughter appeared from around the oak and Jonas gasped with joy. He knew they had been killed and the details of that murder slammed into his mind like a sledge hammer. His gut clinched and he felt the pain of his soul trying to tear its way out of his body. A little old man followed his wife and daughter around the tree and the moment Jonas saw him the pain eased. He couldn't exactly remember when they had been killed. Time seemed fuzzy for some reason. In one way it seemed to be moments ago. In another it seemed to be days, years, or even eons ago.

Jonas lurched to his feet with a cry and embraced his wife and daughter.

"Oh Sheila, Liz, my baby," Jonas sobbed as he held them tight.

"It's OK honey," Sheila soothed.

"Don't worry daddy," Liz said happily. "I think maybe we fixed it."

"Honey, you need to talk to..." Sheila started urgently then paused and looked over her shoulder at the old man. "What should we call you?"

"Um, well, ah, Joe will do. Just call me Joe for now," the old man said smiling. His voice sounded light and jolly.

Jonas looked at the little man as he walked forward with an odd little hop and skip to stand beside Sheila. He was even shorter than Liz and he looked thin enough to blow away in the first high wind. His hair was a wild white mane that flowed down to his shoulders and stirred in the light breeze. He had the kind of sandals that had laces high on his skinny ankles and they looked like they had seen many miles. His loose pants and shirt were a nondescript brownish green color and almost looked like they changed color as the man moved. He had a wide, generous mouth in a gentle, weather roughened face. The lines around his mouth gave the impression that his broad smile was its natural shape. He gave a little waist high wave like you see from someone that is embarrassed about intruding.

"Joe!" Sheila exclaimed in surprise. "You want us to call you Joe?"

"It's as good as any," Joe said with a laugh. "But you can pick another of you want."

Liz giggled and said, "I think Joe is just right. But, daddy, mom's right." Liz got very serious and she said, "You do need to talk to him. It's really important."

Jonas looked down at his daughter, and smiled as he hugged her. "If it's important to you, baby, then it is important to me too."

"No, honey," Sheila corrected him as serious as her daughter was. "Well, yes, it's important to us but it's more important to you."

Jonas looked back and forth between his wife and daughter. Both were as serious as he had ever seen them. His smile faded and he said, "OK. We'll talk. No problem." He hugged Liz against his side and he leaned forward and kissed Sheila on the tip of her nose the same as he had done for the last 14 years of marriage.

Tears shined in Sheila's eyes at the kiss. She touched the tip of his nose the same as she had done for the last 14 years. She had a little catch in her voice when she said, "Honey, we might lose you. I don't want that to happen so listen to him. OK?"

"Why would you lose me?" Jonas asked jokingly. "I'm right here. I'll stay with you."

"And on that note, you and I do need to talk, Jonas," the old man, Joe, said merrily. "I'm sure we can work something out. Sheila, Liz, why don't you wait, ah, on the other side of the tree."

Sheila and Liz immediately backed away from Jonas, looking a little worried.

"Daddy, promise that you'll listen," Liz said before turning away to follow the path around the tree.

"Honey, Please listen and take him serious," Sheila said pleadingly before turning away to follow her daughter.

"Wait," Jonas said, reaching for his wife.

She reached back and their finger tips brushed as she continued walking away. The sound of her footsteps faded as soon as the tree hid her from view.

Jonas just stood there after his wife and daughter disappeared. He was puzzled that they would just leave him like that. He didn't understand why they would just walk away after they had all, somehow, escaped the horror in the basement.

The old man cleared his throat then said, "Why don't we sit down and talk."

Jonas stepped back and settled on the bench. His eyes were still on the path and his mind was still wondering why his wife and daughter would leave so willingly.

The old man hopped forward as if he were playing a game and after a half pirouette, sat beside Jonas.

The movement startled Jonas and he looked at the man for a minute. Finally he asked, "So you're Joe?"

The old man shrugged and said, "It's as good a name as any. I've been called a lot of names. Some of them have been curses, because someone believed that I had allowed some terrible thing to happen."

"OK, Joe, could you have kept some of the bad things from happening," Jonas asked with a slight smile?

"Well," Joe answered as he leaned to the side and picked a large raspberry off a bush and popped it in his mouth. "I have a few times in the past but it didn't seem to accomplish much." He cocked his head and shrewdly looked at Jonas. "People don't learn from things that are just handed to them. People are hard headed, and usually need to learn the important things the hard way. That's the only way that I've found that works; so, as a general rule, I don't step in to stop bad things from happening."

Joe picked several more raspberries that Jonas hadn't noticed before. He held his hand out and asked, "Would you like one?"

Jonas plucked a fat raspberry out of the old man's hand and popped it in his mouth. Flavor flooded his senses. The raspberry flavor was so distinctive, and overwhelming, that Jonas almost groaned. He had never tasted anything as wonderful.

Joe was looking at Jonas with a quizzical expression as he watched the wonder and delight on his features. Joe waited a moment and asked, "Jonas, do you realize that you're dead?"

"I'm what," Jonas asked in astonishment.

"You are dead, or as good as," Joe repeated. "Sheila and Liz are dead, and there is no turning back for them. You might have a choice and that is what we need to talk about," Joe explained patiently.

"So, we didn't escape," Jonas mumbled as the horror from his basement flooded through him again.

Joe waved his hand as if brushing away an irritating bug and the horror faded. It didn't go away completely but it faded to a manageable level. "That's not important right now," Joe said. "If we can't work something out, you will have an eternity to think about what you let happen to your wife and daughter. Well, at least you would think about it in the eternity between your final consciousness and dissolution."

Jonas was still grappling with the concept that he was dead. It took a moment for Joe's words to sink in but he straightened when they did. "I didn't let that happen to them. There was nothing I could do to stop it," Jonas protested.

"Oh, really," Joe asked, dryly. "Would those men have visited your house if you hadn't killed Francisco's son? Would you have been an enforcer if you hadn't killed the head of the Escabanza Cartel so efficiently all those years ago? Would you have been involved with the Dieland Family at all if you hadn't wanted some quick money to take your neighbor girl to the movie when you were 14?"

Joe shook his head sadly. It was the first time Jonas had seen the old man not smiling and the grief that poured through him nearly broke his heart.

"Jonas," the old man said and sighed. "What happened to your wife and daughter couldn't have been more your fault if you had sent Francisco and his men written invitations."

Jonas could feel tears in his eyes from the horror he had brought to his family and the old man's sadness. "OK. It was my fault. It was entirely my fault," he said with a sob.

Joe brightened perceptibly and Jonas's heart seemed to leap with joy at his change in mood. At least it was a leap for joy compared to the bone crushing sadness he had felt a moment ago.

"But you are a lucky one Jonas," Joe continued. "You are lucky because Sheila and Elizabeth have prayed for you. They love you very much and their eternal happiness would be tainted without you. Even while they were dying they were praying for you. Their belief in your goodness despite your actions all your adult life gives me some leeway."

"What kind of leeway?" Jonas asked confused. Jonas had always prided himself with being pretty quick on the uptake, but he was having trouble keeping up with the old man. He was having trouble understanding what was going on.

"Redemption, Jonas," Joe said, solemnly. "I can offer you a chance to earn redemption, but it will not be easy."

"But, how can I earn redemption now? I'm already dead," Jonas blurted.

Joe shook his finger from side to side and said, "Not quite yet. That's why I still have some leeway." Joe chuckled. It was a deep, happy rumbling sound like a summer shower with thunder. "Oh, I could bring you back even if you were dead. You've read about me doing that before haven't you?" Joe didn't wait for Jonas to reply. "But then we are back to that business of me personally stepping in to help. Believe me, that has never worked out as well as it should have. I think it has something to do with the randomness that I built into human nature," Joe mused thoughtfully. He brightened again and said, "Oh well. That's something I'll have to consider the next time around."

Jonas was staring at the little old man with growing comprehension. His eyes were getting bigger. "Are you God?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Joe shrugged, and said with a laugh, "I guess that's another name we could use if you want, but Joe really is fine with me." He chuckled again with that summer time shower sound. "I don't need a name to establish my identity," he explained. He brightened again and asked, "Would you like to see reality? Well, it isn't really reality but as close a representation as you can understand."

Jonas nodded numbly. He didn't know what else to do.

Jonas wasn't sitting on the bench any longer. He wasn't anyplace. He was simply a point of reference with an understanding that he was Jonas.

"This is a representation of reality that you can understand," Joe's voice said.

It looked like a light blue green sea was stretched out before him as far as the eye could see, but it wasn't water. Water didn't have spires rising from the surface. Many layers of translucent mist were hovering over the sea. The mist didn't hide the sea but made it more difficult to discern the surface. The spires were all different heights and most penetrated the layers of mist. Some just reached the lowest layers and some of the tallest pierced the top layers. They were constantly in motion, rising and falling, becoming taller and shorter and waving as if by an unseen wind.

"What is this," Jonas asked in wonder?

"Each of those spikes is life in your universe. Your world and many others are teeming with life and all life originates from here," Joe answered.

Jonas's attention was directed to spikes in the far distance. They were so far away that Jonas shouldn't have been able to see them but they were as clear as they would be if he were standing next to them. He couldn't see the tops of those spires despite seeing them so clearly.