Through a Watery Mirror

“Have you been to the other side yet?”

George looked up from his coffee and considered Morgan's question. “No, can't say I have, but I don't plane jump much at all. I don't know why you're so attracted to it still.”

Morgan frowned. “Once a mind has expanded, trying to stuff it in a jar does not always work. I cannot forget what is out there. I cannot forget what is down here. My family barely knows me and I have no ties out there.”

“You sound very lonely.”

“I have always been lonely to some degree. It was far, far less when Michael was with me.”

“And Valerie?”

“She is,” Morgan gave a rare smile, “wonderful company. She has tried to talk me into staying here, too. I wish I could, but rules...”

George knew the rules. He answered, “Will you ever come to stay?”

“I would if I could. At least now, when I do come, I have moments like this, rather than elongated moments of pain. I see people I know. People I love. I see dead people. It is preferable to awaiting return in the agony of death.”

“Has there ever been a good death for you?”

Morgan nodded. “I was executed at Leavenworth at midnight, February 16, 2005 by lethal injection. As I lay on the table, my father came and stood next to me.”

“Your father?”

“John Hunter Fitzgerald Wallace. We talked about why I was there. I told him that I chose to die and that I wanted to see him and Michael again. And grandfather too. I told him I was sorry that I was not the son he wanted me to be. I told him I was sorry that I was never his son. He said it did not matter. That, in his heart, I would always be his child, even if he did not sire me. He would always love me, no matter what I did. He said everything would be alright as long as I let him carry me when I needed it. And, then, he picked me up like he would when I was little and carried me here.”

George smiled. “Is heaven what you expected?”

“It's not where I expected to be after being executed.”

“The reason you are here is because you are capable of love, even after everything you've been through. You are still capable of humanity. And because there are those here that love you back.”

“I think Hitler could get in on that defense.”

“Morgan, with the conditioning you have, you shouldn't love anyone or anything. You haven't even given up yet. You still rescue damsels and refugees.”

“If I risk nothing by dying, is it really noble?”

“If you don't do it, you risk your soul or your humanity.”

Morgan felt a tug inside. Sighing, he blinked and was assailed by the cold of a hostile world. He got up from the muddy, wet ground and looked sightlessly at the blank, cloudy sky. Ascension had its privileges.