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Fiction Short Story

by Yvonne Adalian

Too Early By Far

Like landing on a step that wasn't there, Molly's body jolted on impact. She felt a fleeting terror as she looked around, for nothing was as usual. The air was very warm and seemed to her to be thick. Looking up she squinted at a large round silver clock in a sky that was as green as apples on a tree. She had no idea where she was and felt completely disoriented. Only the thick red hair brushing her skin at the small of her back felt familiar. Looking down she saw that her feet, planted in deep blue grass, were bare; her knees were bare; her belly was bare. In fact she was entirely naked!

Looking up again she saw a winding purple road fringed with blue which led to a copse of red trees with tops like curly cabbages. Rising from behind these trees stood a tall white tower with a window at the top. She heard a bird trill, joined by another which harmonized. She smelled flowers she couldn't see. She heard a swarm of musical bees from around the corner of the road, which then materialized into a jazz band. Having nowhere to hide, she stood on the road with her back to the sound hoping they wouldn't notice, or at least pass right by. But a battered old van with pink roses growing on the roof drove up beside her, and the wheels, sporting pink satin dancing shoes, stopped. Musicians sat where the motor should be.

"Good heavens, who are you?" giggled a trumpeter. He was naked too, except for an orange trilby hat, and his voice tooted just like his trumpet.

Molly stared.

"Would you like a lift?" boomed the bass, making Molly jump. He was extremely tall and thin but had lovely pink eyes.

Now no one likes to be caught being aimless, no one likes to be caught simply staring into space like an idiot, and the band was as naked as she was, so Molly said, "Oh. um... I'm... I'm on my way to the Tower, I think."

"Hop in little Lady, hop in," said the trumpeter, and raised the roof like a hat.

During the ride, Molly learned that in order to talk to the boss in the Tower, who was a very busy man, she would have to make an appointment with his secretary.

"Everything takes an eternity around here," said the drummer with a smile.

The Tower was made of marble and she climbed many steps to its door. When she pulled on a long gold bell rope, it triggered tinkling laughter.

"Come in, come in," sang a beautiful voice, "Isn't it a heavenly day?"

Molly turned the gold doorknob and stepped into a prism of light through which golden wings and a robe of glittering fish scales slowly turned. Then a radiant face beamed and embraced her. Molly wanted to cry; she had never felt so welcome in all her fourteen years. She felt she had finally found her home.

"And what is your name, my lovely?" the angel wanted to know.

"Molly Maguire from Ireland, but I don't know why I'm here."

"Molly Maguire from Ireland? Molly Maguire from Ireland? Not Colleen Maguire's only daughter? From Dublin is it, you're from?"

Molly nodded and stepped back for the angel's face had turned from welcome to that of stark dismay. "You're too early by far. You're not due yet. For heaven's sake go away!"

Molly had no idea where to go. The angel had been so insistent that she leave at once, she was given no opportunity to protest. She decided to wait until the next day and then tried to make an appointment with the boss. She was neither tired nor hungry and this was after all a very pleasant place to be. She looked at the clock in the sky. It hadn't moved. She wandered over the cool grass to a beautiful yellow lake with blue and purple reeds and lily pads growing on top, and sat on a mound of grass with her feet in the water, dreaming.

She closed her eyes and saw a winding country road, a stop sign, and herself flying downhill at great speed on a bicycle, hair flying wild in the wind. An oak tree stepped out to block her. Oh no! Molly remembered everything then. Her parents, her school, her friends, and her little dog, Blackie, at home. I'm as dead as a doornail, whatever that is, she thought.

A purple frog with golden spots sitting on a lily pad opposite, blinked his round blue eyes, cleared his throat, and said, "Excuse me, I couldn't help but hear what you're thinking. This happens all the time around here. Heaven knows why. People are in just too much of a hurry to die I suppose. I don't know what's the matter with them; they know they'll only have to go back."

"Why?" she asked, quite beyond surprise by now.

"Well, you tell me. How can you enjoy heaven if you don't know how to enjoy life?"

"I don't know."

"Well, that's just it, isn't it?" And the toady old frog gave a sigh. "Well, never mind, never mind. Tell you what: why don't we take you back right now?"

"Now?" Molly could see her father then, head bowed, staring at the floor with his hat in his hand. She could see her mother weeping. "But I have to see the boss."

"Oh, I wouldn't bother him if I were you. He's a very busy man. Look, I'd be happy to help you out. I've done it dozens of times before." And he took a deep breath and blew himself up like a balloon; not once, not twice, but five times, until he resembled a great spotted rubber armchair. Holding his breath, he beckoned to Molly who found herself climbing on. As he slowly exhaled he flew to the sky, past the clock, past the stars, to the dark, until Molly felt quite dizzy.

From the farthest end of a tunnel her mother's voice called, "Molly, Molly, sweetheart, I'm here. Come back, please, please, Molly come back."

Molly felt warm tears splash on her face and she opened her eyes to see her mother sitting beside her beneath a white ceiling over a white bed. Through the window she thought she saw a flash of purple disappear in the sky and she smiled and whispered, "I was too early, they said. They said I was too early by far."

© Copyright 2002 Yvonne Adalian


About the Author:

Yvonne Adalian lives on Saltspring Island in British Columbia, Canada. She has had several articles published, and four radio plays for CBC have been broadcast. "Too Early by Far" was inspired by a jumpstart exercise through WVU.