19 of 50 Songs and Chapters Dedicated to the Friend I Lost Too Soon

"What do you think happens to us when we die?"

I blurt it out, peering into the sky like I've never seen it before. I lay against the top of the vehicle like he is, finally feeling like it wasn't awkward to do so. The car jerks slightly, as he processes my question, and also because no vehicle, as classy as this one may be, is made for the weight of two human beings to sprawl across the roof of it. While Jewee ignores it, I decide to too. It is his car, meaning any damage that comes along is also his.

Not my problem.

"Jaiva Shyne, please. We don't have to talk about that. It's not like it's something you have to ponder on too much right now. Everyone's lives eventually end. We'll all go through whatever it is we're supposed to. We'll figure it out when we figure it out, so don't think too much about it. You don't need to stress yourself over what hasn't come yet. Just like anything that hasn't come, don't think about it too much," he tells me.

Though his answer isn't really the answer I was looking for, he's full of conviction, I'm nearly persuaded to follow his pathway. It completely exits my mind for a few, when the space between us gradually closes, and he's pointing up at the clouds in the sky. "Look at that. That cloud looks like a crown. Don't you think, Princess? Can you see it?"

He's trying to sidetrack me, and it's almost worked. Almost, but because I caught myself before I've actually given in, I become more determined to get myself out of it. To get his perspective on something so daunting and mysterious for a lot of people.

"Sure, I see it." I say it to acknowledge that I've heard him, though there's no confirmation that we're looking at the same thing. I don't want to ignore him completely, even if he was using it as a strategy to make his way around what I brought up. He's aware of what I'm doing. He can tell by my tone that I was bouncing back to what I've started, and he was giving in. He knew that I wasn't going to let it go. I repeated it again anyway, just to get it into his head.

"What do you think happens to us when we die, Jewee Kyler? I want to know what you think. We don't know, that's what you're saying, so hypothetically speaking, you get me?"

Jewee hums a tune I'm familiar with, but that I can't name. I'm beginning to think it's another one of his tactics to sidetrack us, before he gets himself to open his mouth. "Are you asking this because you're afraid?"

"Maybe I am," I shrug, trying to let in my vulnerability. I can trust him. He's shown me that he can. Why should I be hiding myself from now on? It's too hard. It saps my strength. It beats me down, and I'm tired of making that kind of mistake. I don't have forever to continue messing up over and over again.

He seems taken aback by my honesty, but it moves him to answer in the way he knew I asked for. "I think," he lulled his speech for a few. Thinking about it took a toll on his whole body, which was relaxed completely into the metal he laid on.

"I don't know honestly. I haven't thought about it. All I believe is that when we're gone, we're gone so in the mean time, we get to appreciate whatever comes along. We get a lot of good memories. Cats exist. We feel joy when that one kitten finally lets us hold them. There's so much out there we haven't discovered yet, we get to sleep, try new food, read books, make tea, play music, awe over nice scenery, break rules, kiss, make art, admire the sky, hear laughter -- so I don't know what comes after it, but it's okay with me. It's alright. Good things do happen. Bad things do too, yeah, but that's beside the point. I'm content being here for the happy times."

His body shifted to his side, better facing me, and his palm balanced the weight of his head. I was already facing in his direction, and his change in position brought us more physically closer than we already were. His hand rested cautiously on my shoulder, as he knew that last time he did anything like it I lashed out. I let it be this time. Secretly, I didn't mind it being there. I liked it more than I disliked it. I credit his soft side for bringing that reaction out of me.

"But," he continued. "If I have to say something, I'd say what I've seen a lot of people say. Maybe there's a burning hell that punishes those terrible people living on this planet, but what's more important than that is heaven gains an angel. Why? Do you think something different?"

"I can't dismiss your thoughts for nothing. It's not like I know anything, but yes, I do think something different." I bit my lip. This was a controversial topic that you couldn't really bring up out of the blue, and yet that's exactly what I've done.

Pushing through it was strange, but I felt good about it too. I wasn't expecting to find someone who agreed with me. Hardly anyone ever does, but I did expect to find someone who would listen, and it seemed I found the one who would. I liked the idea of someone knowing where I believed I would be going. It made me feel a little less alone as it approached, considering I couldn't and I wouldn't want to take anyone with me, as terrifying as it is.

"Going to heaven or going to hell make sense to a lot of people, and the concept of heaven is comforting to the people who are mourning the loss of someone they love. Hell might be comforting to some people too, I guess, because if they lost their loved one through an unnatural death, and they could believe their killer went to hell, that might put them at ease since they might believe it's deserved, but I misunderstood this concept from a young age.

"Heaven always sounded like God himself was stealing back who we treasured the most. Like he gave us someone to care for only to take them away, and hell sounded contradicting since supposedly someone loving created the arrangement of punishing us so extremely painfully. Whether that's the wrong or the right way to comprehend it, it's stuck to me now. It sounds like the plot to a movie, or a fairy-tale in my tiny mind. I don't know how to accept it properly. And I get that my take on it would have that same reaction on other people too. They wouldn't know how to accept it. They don't have to either. It's not an obligation."

"I see," Jewee puckered his lips, listening to every bit I said. When I stopped talking, he was interested enough to encourage me to continue. This was the reaction I wasn't sure would come. He has all right to be defensive to what his perspective is, and that's what I've experienced in the past if this subject ever did arise. Every person is entitled to their own viewpoint, and I have no intentions in coming for that, but him -- he gave an ear. I was thankful for that much. "So what is your take on it then, girly?"

"I think that the the suffering we go through in this world wasn't meant to be. I think that our world got tampered and robbed of the perfection it was supposed to have. I think that that life of sitting around and eating grapes could've been, until it couldn't be. Once the Devil played around with what God thought was good, like a toy, everything broke.

"That's why we're born with the idea of eternity set on our heart. It's why we cry when the ones we love die, and for many of us, we're scared to die, as individuals. It's the way we were programmed originally. We want forever. It's every love song. Every movie. Every desire and as many people as possible recognize that and pay attention to that concept, the higher power will step in and give them what we were meant to have all along. Those who die before then -- it'll be like sleep. Black, and unconscious. Aware of nothing, the soul won't live on, and one day, when the time arrives, they'll wake up to the intended perfection on this earth. An eternal, earthly paradise, the way it was supposed to be at the beginning."

Jewee's eyes went wide. He didn't know what to say or how to react, and I was aware that that was a likely response. It's not everyday a person is bombarded with the viewpoint of another person, in depth to that extent.

I found his expression funny, but I held in a laugh. "You wouldn't believe that would you?"

"I can't say I'd believe it myself. It sounds kind of like Sleeping Beauty. Death means that you sleep your way to a perfect life, like you await true love's kiss, but it does have some logic. I'll give you that," he answered. His face seemed split of emotion. On one side, it seemed he viewed me as wise. I brought up information that not just anyone does, and I said a lot that wasn't easily comprehended. On the other side of it, he was rather baffled. He was still going over everything that I said, rewinding it in his head.

I let myself laugh at last. "Understandable. For a lot of people out there, it's weird, but for me, anything besides it is like an odd version of Rapunzel. This -- well, it's the art of second chances."

Jewee didn't laugh though. He was studying me straight on, a kind smile dancing on his expression, getting more and more prominent as he did. "But the concept comforts you, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It does. I like that concept the most. It's the most reassuring for me. Being able to live in good conditions and with good health on the very earth that I already know -- and getting to look at it without the distraction of pain emotionally or physically and so on -- that's what I want the most. I want to do everything I wasn't able to do."

He brushed a few of loose strands back over my ear, the wind catching it in a way that made him have to do it twice. "Then that's all that matters. Don't live in fear everyday scared of what death is going to be like. Live happily everyday knowing that you have more time for memories, and in your mind, that coming up, you'll have the time to do more of it. You'll have forever."

"You're right," I agreed, sitting up. "But one day, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to tell you 'I told you so'. You'll see," I teased him, sticking out my tongue. He sat up too, being sure we remained eye level in the midst of this conversation.

"Oh, wow. You're really playing that game, are you? You're really gonna do this? Well, I doubt it. I think I know better than you do," he shot back, his sing-song tone returning. "You can say what you wish in the mean time. You can laugh as much as you want, but when I find you up there eventually, be warned: you won't be laughing anymore. You'll be the angriest, feistiest angel anyone's ever seen, your halo will probably turn red. Remember I said this -- I'll see you in heaven, Jaiva Shyne."

I held my hand out to shake his, just to make what was nothing more than a silly argument made up of different perspectives, feel a little bit more official, but what it actually did is made it feel more light-hearted. Like I really gained a friend I didn't think I'd ever have.

"I'll see you in paradise, Jewee Gray."

And from there, I hopped down from the top of his car, feet planting back into the parking lot. I was quick to claim the passenger seat and to feel the rush of cold air of the air conditioner, so he wouldn't have any ideas to put me beneath the traffic lights again and so I got a break from the sunlight that made me sweat.

Two birds with one stone.

For once it seemed, I got what I wanted without a word from Jewee's mouth, unless you count the giggle from my so-called threat that came to tickle him.

Everything was perfect, until my phone started ringing. In a life like mine, it was granted that a good moment wouldn't last very long.