This was, of course, the key, and I had missed it before. “What if I promise to keep all of it for you? I will hang your daughter’s paintings, too. In my home, in the homes of my friends. She will never be forgotten.”
He looked at me sideways, wavered in and out of existence, and I saw the tears in his eyes. “You would do that for my baby girl?”
“Of course,” I said. “She’s very talented.”
“Yes, I would like that—no, no I can’t. I just can’t leave them behind. I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I know your intentions are good...”
He gasped, and the energy around him crackled. And around me, too. The hair on my neck and arms stood on end. Crackling living light swarmed through the room—and briefly illuminated dead light bulbs.
Holy smokes, I thought.
“It’s okay, Peter. I’m not making you do anything. You can stay here as long as you want.”
The crackling energy, after a moment, abated. Peter seemed to relax a little, too. An agitated ghost was not a pretty thing to see. I tried to hide the fact that I’d nearly peed myself.
Help my son...help my son...help my son...
I heard Millicent’s words again and again, and this time, I wasn’t so sure they were a flash of memory. I suspected that Peter was at a crossroads here. He would either go now, or perhaps never. And Millicent wasn’t going to let that happen.
Peter snapped his head up, looking past me. I saw a bright glow in his eyes. I turned and looked, too...but saw nothing.
I looked back at him, and the unearthly glow was still there. “It’s here, isn’t it, Peter?”
He nodded slowly, and continued staring up.
Chapter Thirty-one
“Can you see anyone inside?” I asked.
“Yes, a few people.”
“Do you recognize them?”
He shook his head. “They’re just shadows, shapes.”
“What else do you see?”
“An opening in the ceiling, bright white light pouring through. Silhouettes beyond.”
“Where does the tunnel lead to, Peter?”
“I don’t know.”
Millicent, I thought, frustrated. Where are you? I need your help.
You’re doing fine, child.
I can’t do this alone! I don’t know what I’m doing!
You’re not alone, dear. We are all here. Watching, waiting, helping. And, yes, you do know what you’re doing. My boy needs to take the first step. Peter needs to do that on his own. That first step.
And then what?
And then we will show him Heaven.
Are you there with his wife and daughter?
I am.
I turned back to Peter. He was still looking up, mouth slightly open, eyes aglow. He flicked into and out of existence, and there was a very real possibility that Fletcher really had hit me in a parking lot, and I was dreaming all of this, perhaps one last hallucination for a dying brain.
Perhaps, but for now, I had either a real ghost or a made-up ghost that needed to go home...wherever home was.
Heaven, dear, came Millicent’s voice. Always Heaven.
I took Peter’s hand. He pulled his gaze down from above and focused on me, although I could still see a ghostly light reflecting in them. Good God, was I looking into Heaven?
“Your daughter is waiting for you,” I finally said.
He opened his mouth. I sensed he wanted to say, “You lie,” but thought it improper. Instead, he settled for, “I’m afraid you don’t know that for sure, Allison.”
He had me there. “No, I don’t, but I think you know she is. I think you can feel her, Peter.”
“I...I don’t know what I feel.”
“Your mother is there, too. And so is your wife. They’re all waiting for you, Peter.”
He was shaking his head as I spoke, “My baby girl is gone...they’re all gone. All that remains of them is here, in this house...I can’t leave them.”
“Your mother is telling me they’re waiting for you, Peter, but it’s up to you to take that first step.”
“No, I can’t leave...”
As I spoke, I listened to Millicent’s words, and repeated them for Peter: “She’s telling me that your time here is done, that there is nothing more for you to do here. She says you are her Pistol Pete and she loves you and wants you to come home.”
When I said his nickname, he buried his face in his hands and sobbed. “I can’t leave them, I can’t. I’m all they have...”
I continued, “She says you did a courageous thing by helping catch Penny’s killer. But your work here is done. It’s time to come home, Peter. Time to heal. Time to find yourself again, Peter. Time to see your daughter. She’s waiting for you there, eagerly. Excitedly.”
“My baby...” he said between sobs. “I don’t know what to do, Allison...”
“Take that first step, Peter.”
He lowered his hands and the light in his eyes grew brighter.
“The tunnel is getting closer, isn’t it?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s...it’s right behind you, Allison. But I don’t see them. I don’t see anyone...”
Millicent was quiet and so I spoke from the heart: “You need to do it, Peter. On your own. You need to let go of the physical. You need to move on, and they will be waiting for you.”
“You promise?”
I opened my mouth, closed it, then nodded. “Yes, I promise.”
He wiped his eyes. His hands, I saw, were shaking, and now I could see through him completely. He looked at me. “I’m scared, Allison.”
I could finally feel it, too: love wafting through me and over me and around me. Love from Millicent, his daughter, his wife, from God.
“There’s a lot of love waiting for you, Peter. Your daughter is there. She wants her daddy.”
Except Peter wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was looking over my shoulder.
I refused to turn around. Instead, I looked into his fading eyes where I could see the glowing reflection of something truly out of this world.
“And you’ll watch over my daughter’s paintings?” he asked, still looking beyond me.
“I’ll find a home for every one of them.”
“I would like that. I will never forget your help, Allison.”
“And I’ll never forget you, Peter.”
He looked at me now, for a final time, and gave me a crooked grin. “No, I don’t suppose you will.”
And with that, he took a step forward...and I watched his eyes light up, and in them, I saw the reflection of a little girl running toward him, arms outstretched.