Short Story: Walking Into Heaven

Short Story: Walking Into Heaven

"What's heaven?" Janie whispered to Sean behind her hand. A sharp tug at her coat made her turn to her Mum. "What?" She did try to say it quietly, but every word seemed to come out of her mouth loudly in this church building thing. Janie didn't like it; she was glad she didn't have to come every Sunday like Sean.

She didn't really know why she was here today, except for her Mum saying something about paying respects to Sean's Grandma. Janie couldn't see anywhere where you could put respects, though she had been looking. She thought Mum must have the respects in her bag; maybe they were like sweets.

"Shh, sweetheart. Try and be quiet in church, it's nearly finished."

Janie wriggled in protest and scuffed her shoes along the stone floor, one little foot at a time. Her Mum's hand lay softly against her shoulder whilst her fingers tapped out a further warning. The organ blew out several strained notes. The congregation nervously opened dusty hymn books and big voices sang a song that Janie thought sounded very sad. Looking around, she saw that a few of the grown-ups were crying. Some were crying properly, and some were doing that sniffing thing that they do into their handkerchiefs, their eyes shiny with tears. Janie looked at Sean- was he going to cry?

Janie didn't have a Grandma, but thought she might cry if she did have one that died. Janie watched as Sean studiously picked a scab from his knee. Maybe not. People were moving about and Janie and Sean had to stand up quickly. There were only a few people in the church and seats had been sat in haphazardly to counteract the emptiness. Men and women walked quickly to the big oak doors, which had been opened as soon as the sad song had finished and were now allowing the afternoon sunshine to shoot in and shower the air with a kaleidescope of light.

As soon as they were outside Janie's Mum and Sean's Mum linked arms, a sure sign to the children that there was a playtime to be had before the journey home.

"Lets go and see the flowers," Sean shouted as he ran ahead. Janie followed, glad to be out of the church and free from parental restriction. They reached the Garden of Remembrance and Sean knelt on the ground reading the cards out loud. Janie was captivated by the floral tributes on the shape of cars and baskets, names and hearts- but one single flower caught her attention. She sat cross-legged beside it. It had a pink helium balloon tied messily to it, and Janie wanted Sean to read the note on this one straight away. He was a year older than her so he could get all the words right- somehow Janie thought it was important to say the words right in a church place.

"To my beautiful baby Jane. 16th July 2010. Kisses and hugs, Mummy and Daddy," Sean read rather unwillingly. "That's a boring one, just a flower, huh. Look at this one, Janie, it’s a football." He ran further down the line, but Janie stayed beside the single white rose. The sixteenth of July was her birthday, she knew that because it was in a few days time, and her name was Jane. Was she dead; was she an angel? Sometimes her Mum called her an angel, but she didn't think she really meant it.

Sean had run towards his Mum, but Janie could see her own Mum was now talking to someone else. She picked up the rose, and some of the petals fell onto her knees. She held them between her finger and thumb. The velvet touch made her want to smell them, and as she lifted them to her nose, she was aware of a feathery, tickling sensation against her legs. She brushed her free hand against her knee, sweeping the insect (or whatever it was) away. Her hand touched cool spun cotton-wool - she dropped the petals and looked down.

There was no ground, only huge puffs of brilliant white clouds that really did look like candy-floss, or the cotton-wool that her Mum used to take her make-up off. Janie scrambled to her feet and then sat quickly down again, just in case she fell through the candy-floss. Putting one hand very carefully around her legs, she spread her fingers out to push through the fluffy pillows. It was warm and sunny and Janie could hear the voices of children playing somewhere else. Suddenly, a flash of a breeze blew a nearby cloud away from her and something bumped into her.

"Hello Janie," a young girl's voice sang out from behind her.

Janie turned around hastily and rather unsteadily - it wasn't easy sitting in candy-floss. It was easy to sink very quickly.

"Hiya, who are you?"

"I'm Jane. You were looking at the balloon that my Mum and Dad left."

"Is this...?"

"Heaven. Yes, you've got a day pass and I'm your angel for the day. Come on, I'll show you around. Do you want a harp? Or I think there are a couple of trumpets left. It's been a busy day.”