Can't Wait to Get to Heaven

Where She Had Gone

As soon as her sister Ida threw open the doors at the end of the hall, what Elner saw was so stunning, so dazzling, it almost took her breath away. Standing before her was a set of sparkling crystal stairs leading straight up into the sky, all the way up to the big round moon at the very top.

Elner turned to Ida with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Ida, it’s prettier than I could have ever imagined.”

“I thought you’d be impressed,” said Ida.

It wasn’t until after they had started their journey up the stairs that Elner noticed Ida was carrying a purse. She thought, “Only Ida would bring her purse with her to heaven,” and she laughed out loud.

Ida asked, “What’s so funny?”

Elner said, “Nothing, I was just thinking about something, that’s all.”

Norma had been the one who had put Ida’s purse into the coffin with her, because she said her mother had said a woman was never fully dressed without her purse. She started to tell Ida that it had been Norma’s idea but changed her mind; any mention of the coffin and Ida might bring up Tot Whooten again.

After they had been climbing up the stairs for a while, the sky suddenly began to grow a darker and darker, almost midnight blue; soon hundreds of tiny little stars started appearing and began twinkling all around them everywhere, above their heads, even under the stairs. It couldn’t have pleased Elner more. She had always wondered what it would be like to walk around in the sky among the stars, and now she knew. A lot of fun.

As they went farther up the stairs, the big moon at the top seemed to grow larger and started turning a creamy yellow and gold color, and began glowing in the dark like a billion lightning bugs. It was a long climb but Elner was surprised at how easy it was, and remarked to Ida, “You’d think climbing all these stairs would wear me out, but I don’t feel one bit winded.” As they got closer to the moon it changed colors again and started turning from gold into a bright glossy white, and then just when they reached the top step, suddenly right before their eyes, the moon turned into a big, round shiny mother-of-pearl button.

“Ohh, interesting,” said Elner. At that moment, as they stepped on the last step, an archway in the middle of the button opened up. When Ida and Elner stepped inside, the sun was bright and shining, and it was daytime again. Elner stood there for a moment and looked at what she figured must be heaven. It was not all white clouds and angels flying around as she had expected, but lovely. As a matter of fact, Elner thought it looked a lot like the big botanic garden in Kansas City, where Ida had taken her many times. The grass was deep green and lush, with highly colored flowers blooming everywhere.

Ida said, “Well?”

“Very nice,” she said, and when she looked up she noticed that the sky was not one solid color, like it was at home. Here it was more iridescent. She held out her hand and the colors of the sky sparkled on her skin in pinks and blues and soft greens.

“This is just like walking inside a rainbow, isn’t it, Ida? Hey, remember when that woman wrote in to the Neighbor Dorothy radio show and said how she and her family stood in a rainbow…Now I know just how she felt.”

As they walked along, Elner thought of something else. “Hey, Ida, now am I going to get to know all of life’s mysteries? Don’t they say that when you are dead, that all will be revealed?”

“I really can’t say, Elner, I’m just an escort. The rest you will have to find out on a need-to-know basis.”

“I sure hope I find out life’s mysteries. I’ve been just itching to know what they are. Can’t you give me a little hint?”

“I’m sorry,” said Ida, “but no.”

“Well, if you can’t tell me any mysteries or revelations, you can at least tell me what God looks like, can’t you?”

Ida said nothing and kept walking.

Elner scurried to keep up with her. “Let me ask you this then—does he look like his picture? I’m not going to be scared, am I?”

Ida said nothing again but did shake her head no, to let Elner know she had nothing to be afraid of.

“Well, to tell you the truth, Ida, I’m a little worried. I’ve done a couple of things he might not be too happy about. One thing for sure, I should never have given little Luther Griggs that Ex-Lax and told him it was chocolate candy. I must have been out of my mind at the time. Can you plead temporary insanity? What do you think?”

“I think you are in for the surprise of your life.”

“Ahhh,” she said. “Am I going to be surprised a little, or a lot? Will it be a good surprise or a bad surprise?”

“All I can say, Elner, and then I will say no more, is I suspect that you are going to be very pleasantly surprised.”

Elner was somewhat relieved. “Well, good,” she said, and thought, “If he doesn’t bring anything up, I’m certainly not going to say anything.” But after they had walked a few more feet, she had still another inquiry.

“Can I ask him questions or am I just supposed to stand at attention and listen?”

No answer.

“Should I curtsy, kneel down, or what?” Elner wanted to do the right thing, but Ida was still not forthcoming and no help whatsoever.

“Well, at least tell me one thing. Do you think he’s going to be mad at me?”

Ida, true to her word, would say no more, and it irritated Elner no end. “She knows,” she thought, “she’s just not telling me. Typical.”

As they strolled along the path, Elner suddenly thought of something. “Hey, Ida, whatever happened to the Knott family Bible? The last time I saw it, Gerta had it, but then after you died nobody could find it.”

“I buried it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Why did you bury it?”

“I thought it was for the best.”

“Why?”

“Because, Elner, there is personal family information in there that doesn’t need to get out in public, that’s why. You don’t want just anybody knowing your business, do you? And why do you care?”

“Because I would like to know how old I am, or was. I must be close to ninety right now, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Elner,” she scoffed. “I don’t pay any attention to those things, and what difference does age make anyway. You’re as old as you feel, I always said.”

Elner knew Ida was holding back information. Ida knew exactly where she had buried that Bible and how old they both were. “Plus,” thought Elner, “Ida was no more fifty-nine when she died than the man in the moon, and any person who would still lie about her age even after she’s dead is pretty vain, if you ask me.”

As they continued on, Ida thought back on the day their other sister, Gerta, had died. It had been a cold gray freezing day and she was wearing a big fur coat and had been able to stick the rather large Bible under her arm and get out the door with it. She knew, of course, she could not burn a Holy Bible, or throw it in the river or rip out the offending pages or anything blasphemous like that, so she hid it until spring, then wrapped it in cotton, put it in a large airtight Tupperware container, and buried it in her rose garden. She had no regrets or guilt about it. She had always lied about her age, and she saw no reason to stop now. Besides, shaving a few years off here and there was not really lying, it was a matter of survival.

Had the Jenkins family known that the girl their son Herbert wanted to marry was at least eight years older than he, they might have frowned upon the marriage. She had barely managed to snag a good husband as it was. Herbert’s father had owned several banks around the state and was quite prominent. Herbert had not been much, but he had been her last chance to move up in the world, and she had made the most out of it. In fact, she had squeezed every last drop out of every advantage that she had, being the wife of the president of a bank. Even though it was only a small branch bank in the small town of Elmwood Springs, she had been as puffed up as a powder pigeon over it. However, keeping up appearances, plus hiding her true age, had been exhausting. She had almost been caught once, when some mean jealous person had shown Herbert her high school annual. She had lied, of course, and said it was not her: it was another Ida Mae Shimfissle, a distant cousin that had moved away years ago. And Herbert, a trusting man, had believed it.

And then after all that, Norma had married the Warren boy, who had no promising future at all, except to work in his father’s hardware store. It had broken her heart. Even when Norma told her how happy she was with Macky, she never understood her own daughter. “Happy? Cows are happy, Norma, and look what happens to them.”