“To put it bluntly, I’m afraid, you have died. We here are all dead. You, me, Juba, everyone. You died in an accident on the runway. It seems your two airplanes collided.”
Pause. Translations.
Dorothea struggled to understand what Ralph has just said. She looked at her hands. She looked at Vicky, in her arms. For the first time it dawned on her how weightless Vicky was in her arms. She realized that Vicky hadn’t cried, hadn’t soiled her diaper. And it had to have been over an hour since the wreck. She looked at the crowd. She looked at Ralph, and at Juba. Everyone looked solid, clearly visible, not transparent. Everyone looked like they carried physical weight. This can’t be.
Then she remembered the couple she overheard in the crowd, and realized what Ralph was saying must be true.
So this is it, Dorothea wondered. Well I have Vicky. And Bill is alive. I will find him.
She looked at Vicky in her arms. Vicky. My poor baby. You will never know life. You never got to build a life. This is all you will ever know. The injustice of Vicky’s fate overwhelmed Dorothea.
Violet seemed to be reading Dorothea’s mind. “No!” she cried out. “What are you talking about! That’s insane.”
Ripples of conversation ripple emanated from the Americans first, then the Spanish, then the Dutch. Even before the captain did his second translation for the German man, an American – Arthur – said “What do you mean we’re dead? What are you talking about?”
Arthur followed up timidly: “Are we ghosts?”
Ralph again put up a hand. “Please. Please. I will try to explain everything and we will have questions afterwards. But yes, I suppose you can call us ghosts. In our world, we refer to us as souls. For that is essentially what you are. You have left your mortal body, and your soul remains.” Pause. Murmurs.
Dorothea shouted out “But what about my husband!”
Ralph looked abashed. “Some of you, I understand, may now be separated from loved ones. We are currently endeavoring to find out information about them - where they have gone, whether they, too, have passed on in the interim. For reasons I shall soon explain, this is a task of some difficulty for us. The good news is that if we have not found them by now, the odds are good that they have survived. But I promise to you that if news arrives to us before I we are done with this session, I will immediately make the news known to you. Is that acceptable?” he looked at Dorothea. She nodded. Pause. Translations. “And Dorothea - yes?” Dorothea nodded again. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology. In the chaos of the wreckage, and in my desperate need to get you to come here, I may have mislead you. I see now you have found your child. I am sorry for your loss.”
Dot eased in her severity. “It’s okay, Mr Rafe. I have my baby. My husband is alive. I will find him. We will find him.”
Ralph gave Dorothea a look of almost pained sympathy. He said nothing to Dorothea but turned to Juba, and murmured something quietly in his ear. Juba nodded, waved over one of the other islanders - the shepherd - and spoke into his ear. The shepherd looked at Dorothea, nodded, and floated - Dorothea noticed for the first time that he was actually floating - towards the Americans.
But Ralph has a task to perform. He clasped his hands together and continued.
“And forgive me my inopportune behavior. The longer we inhabit this plane, the less some of us concern ourselves with mortal affairs. Myself, I ever strive to stay engaged in the affairs of the living. Moving on, allow me to tell you what we know about the accident.
“It seems your two planes collided on the runway in dense fog. Both planes incurred heavy damage, both are destroyed, and both are in large fireballs right now. One plane - a Pan Am plane - seems to have more survivors. The other - A KLM plane - we have, so far, seen none. Our personal concern is with the dead and not the living, however, so we cannot be sure.”
Pause. Translations.
“After some time, the living rescue and emergency teams showed up, and we could find no more wandering dead, so we have gathered here. I passed on messages throughout the island to track the living. But at this time, there seem to be none on the KLM plane. If you are missing a loved one, two things are possible: they have survived, and the living are caring for them, or they have died, and we did not find them. We have other souls right now searching for any missing victims, though the fog makes this hard. We will continue our efforts.”
Pause. Translations.
Another attempt at a question.
Ralph yet again held up a hand and continued. “To answer your questions, this is it. There is, as far as any of us know, no God, no heaven, no Hell. We are ghosts, to use your parlance sir,” motioning to Arthur. “We inhabit the same world in which we previously lived. We can see and hear each other, we can see and hear the Living Plane, but we cannot interact with it. We cannot haunt. We cannot posses. We can merely observe. That, to our knowledge, the extent of the situation.”
Pause. Translations.
Murmurs, sobs and moans could be heard in the crowd - the sense of dread and wonder overtook them. The news seemed too much to react to.
“Our world is a simple one, and we are generally free to do whatever we want - for as souls, there is very little mischief that one can get up to. We do, however, have three laws, three highest duties. One of these duties is to acclimate a soul newly arrived to this reality - we call it the Plane of Energy. This is what we are endeavoring to do to you now, to help ease the pain of your arrival and help you understand the Plane in which you now inhabit. We have two other laws I need to inform you about, and then we will answer the questions you may have.”
Pause. Translations. A hand went up in the Dutch crowd.
“Please, please. We are almost done,” Ralph said. “I only need to tell you about the Whispers and to perform the vows.”
Pause. Translations.
There were several pauses and translations through the following speech. “The Whispers are how we pass messages on this world. This may not make much sense to you yet, but I shall do my best to explain. For we, as souls, cannot use telephones, the post, or any such. We cannot use automobiles, or trains, or aeroplanes. This makes sending long distance messages very difficult. To get around this, we use the Whispers. The Whispers are set of rules. When a soul begins or ends a journey, they must collect the messages to be sent in the direction they are going. They do this at the Center of the Whispers. In small towns or groups, the Center of the Whispers is usually near the town’s center. These exist in every human town and other population center on our Plane. Larger cities may have multiple sub-centers. When in doubt, ask around. Nearly every soul will help in this matter. Before departing a town, one must visit the Center of the Whispers, and tell them where you are going. They will give you messages to take with you. When you arrive at your destination, you check in at the Center of Whispers and impart messages. It’s as simple as that. When you’re journeying, you must stop and exchange messages with any other soul you may pass, adding them to your inventory of messages if they are being sent in a direction you are going. That is the thrust of it. The number of messages you may be asked to send may be quite long, and some may be for points along the way of your journey. You’ll find your memory is much improved upon dying, so this is not generally very difficult.”
“Nearly every soul on our Plane has need for the whispers. Therefore it is incumbent upon all souls on our Plane to participate.”
The absurd banality of this holy “rule” seemed to set off the crowd. The murmurs transformed into a low uproar. Ralph was losing the crowd.
Ralph stood before the crowd, the translators by his side. A constant haze of ash seemed to rise from the ground behind him, floating into the sky.
“Please. Please. I beg you. Now I know on that topic alone you will have many questions. But I must address our third law. I must perform the vows.”
Here is a psych mix for you. Been a while. Freak out!
Talk to you guys tomorrow!