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She shook her head and looked back at the pond.
    â€œI swear, that boy’s gonna kill himself.”
    â€œOh lighten up, Gloria. He’s a boy, for goodness’ sake. Let him live life while he’s young. One day he’ll wake up and find that his body doesn’t fly as well as it used to. Until then, let him fly. Who knows? Maybe it brings him closer to heaven.”
    Gloria smiled and tossed a stick toward one of the ducks swaying its way in search of easy pickings. “You have the strangest way of putting things, Mom.”
    â€œYes, and do you find me wrong?”
    â€œNo, not often. Although some of your analogies do stretch the mind.” She reached an arm around her mother and squeezed, chuckling.
    â€œYou remember that time you suggested Pastor Madison take the cross off the church wall and carry it on his back for a week? Told him if the idea sounded silly it was only because he had not seen death up close and personal. Really, Mother! Poor fellow.”
    Helen smiled at the memory. Fact of it was, few Christians knew the cost of discipleship. It would have been a fine object lesson. “Yes, well, Bill’s a fine pastor. He knows me now. And if he doesn’t, he does a fine job pretending as though he does.”
    She guided her daughter by the elbow down the path. “So you leave tomorrow, then?”
    â€œNo, Saturday. We leave Saturday.”
    â€œYes, Saturday. You leave Saturday.” The air seemed to have grown stuffy, and Helen drew a deliberate breath. She stopped and looked around for a bench. The closest sat twenty yards away, surrounded by white ducks.
    Gloria’s voice spoke softly at her elbow. “You okay, Mother?”
    Suddenly Helen was not okay. The vision strung through her mind, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Her chest felt stuffed with cotton. She swallowed hard and turned away from her daughter.
    â€œMother?” A cool hand encircled her biceps.
    Helen fought back a flood of tears and narrowly succeeded. When she spoke, her voice warbled a bit. “You know that things are not what they seem, Gloria. You know that, don’t you?”
    â€œYes. I know that.”
    â€œWe look around here, and we see all sorts of drama unfolding about us— people marrying and divorcing and getting rich and running off to Paris.”
    â€œMother . . .”
    â€œAnd all along, the drama unfolding in the spirit world is hardly noticed but no less real. In fact, it is the real story. We just tend to forget that because we cannot see it.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThere are a lot of opposites in life, you know. The first will be last, and the last, first.” Gloria knew this well, but Helen felt compelled to say it all, just the same. To speak like this to her only daughter. “A man finds the whole world but loses his soul. A man who loses his life finds it. A seed dies, and fruit is born. It is the way of God. You know that, don’t you? I’ve taught you that.”
    â€œYes, you have, and yes, I do know that. What’s wrong, Mother? Why are you crying?”
    â€œI am not crying, Honey.” She faced Gloria for the first time and saw her raised eyebrows. “Do you see me weeping and wailing?” But her throat was aching terribly now, and she thought she might fall apart right here on the path.
    She took a few steps into the grass and cleared her throat. “Death brings life. In many ways, you and I are already dead, Gloria. You know that, don’t you?”
    â€œMother, you are crying.” Her daughter turned her around as if she were a child. “You’re trying not to, but I can hear it in your voice. What’s wrong?”
    â€œWhat would you think if I were to die, Gloria?”
    Gloria’s mouth parted to speak, but she said nothing. Her hazel eyes stared wide. When she did find her voice, the words came shaky.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWell, it’s a simple