“Sorry, Arlo. Time for me to go.”

“Where to now, Lucyna?”

“Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, here in London,” I say, as I prepare to travel. “We shall continue our discussion later?”

He nods in response.

“I shall see you soon, then.”

I hear the beeping of machines and frantic commands of human voices before I even open my eyes.

Humans have ones they call doctors who take care of others when they are ill or dying. I do admire them. Their determination to cure and save is awe inspiring. But unfortunately for them, when a human is truly dying, when God has called that one to Heaven, no one, or nothing can save them.

The doctors are working tirelessly on the human I know to be called Maxwell Harrison, but I know that their tiresome work will not save him to his body. My being here says so.

He appears at the end of the bed where his body still lies.

Maxwell Harrison is an older human, but he hasn’t died from old age. His death was meant to be when his when his heart ceased to work.

Positioned by the doorway, I begin my patient wait, allowing Maxwell Harrison the time he needs to come to this new realisation.

Suddenly he spins around, his eyes frantically searching the room.

He locks them onto me and visibly wavers at my sight. Then his eyes narrow in his glare. “Tell me … am I dead?” I can see panic and fear gripping his face, not an unusual sight for me.

Some humans are prepared for death; they know its coming. Some don’t. These are the ones it hits the hardest. But all humans, though, however much prepared, will fear the unknown. It’s inbuilt. It’s in their nature to do so. That’s just being human, I suppose.

“Yes, Maxwell Harrison you are,” I answer with finality.

“And who are you – my angel?” I hear what I believe to be sarcasm adjoining his already gruff voice. “ … because listen to me, angel,” he continues. “I certainly don’t want to be dead. It’s not my time.”

“Unfortunately, it is your time.” I speak candidly.

“And who says so – you?”

I decide not to answer his question with words, instead raising my eyes up to Heaven.

He laughs. A big raucous laugh, it bounces off the walls. “The big man upstairs? Give me a break! Trust me, he certainly wouldn’t want an old reprobate like me in Heaven. I’ve definitely been no angel in my time.” He nods at me. “No pun intended.” There’s a grave expression on his face, but a smile is curving the edge of his lips.

“I’m not an angel, Maxwell Harrison.”

He looks at me with open surprise. “So, what are you then?”

“Just call me your guide to Heaven.”

He hovers over my words for a moment before speaking. “So – guide, why don’t you just put me back in my body, and we can forget all about this.”

I slowly shake my head. “I’m sorry, that’s not a possibility.”

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Well a guy’s gotta try, huh.” I catch a gleam in his eyes before he turns back to his body.

The doctors have finally given up trying to save Maxwell Harrison, and with much resignation they all quietly move around the room carrying on with their job in the aftermath of a human death.

One of the doctors begins speaking to another. This appears to prick Maxwell Harrison’s attention.

“I’ll go out and tell the son,” the doctor says.

“James,” he utters. His eyes follow the doctor to the door, just skimming past me, and his gaze remains there until moments later when a man enters the room.

The man is younger than Maxwell Harrison, but very similar looking. He has the same intense, deep brown eyes.

I watch him slowly walk over to the bed where Maxwell Harrison’s body remains. Then all of a sudden, something unexpected and inexplicable hits me, almost knocking me off my central balance. It appears like a veil of shimmering light, wrapping itself all around me. And no sooner is it there, it’s gone.

What on earth . . .?

The man’s face crumples up with pain. “Oh, dad,” he whispers, laying his trembling hand on Maxwell Harrison’s chest. “What am I gonna do without you?”

I continue to watch the man as the shock of what just happened reverberates through me. Tears are tumbling down his cheeks, dripping freely onto his chest. He roughly wipes at his eyes.

Maxwell Harrison looks forlorn as he walks up to the man. He reaches his hand out to him, pauses, and turns back to me.

“Can I touch him?”

It takes me a moment to answer, to find the words, as my mind is spinning with confusion.

“Of course,” I eventually say, “but know that he won’t feel you.”

He bows his head in submission and lays his hand tentatively on the man’s back. “James, I’m here. It’s okay.”

Then out of nowhere I do something very out of character. I move from my stance by the doorway. This is not something I have ever done before. I don’t even realise I’ve moved until I find myself there, standing at the other side of the bed, looking across at the human Maxwell Harrison calls James. And I mean really looking at him.

Of course I always observe humans, but never truly look at them properly. Usually, I only bother to graze my eyes over their external features, my interest only ever laying in their minds, their emotions, their feelings. But as I stand here looking at James, I appear to be looking for more as I attempt to absorb every fine, physical, detail of him. I’m intrigued by the structural shape of his face. The depth of brown that colour’s his hair. His sun stained skin. The scar splicing his brow. His broad nose, and chiselled jaw line. His perfectly lined teeth and the full lips that adorn them. I watch with fascination as tears glisten on his lashes, sparkling against his intense, dark eyes.

And as I stand here, soaking up every microscopic detail of him, I’m suddenly struck by the shimmering light again. Only harder this time. It seems to grasp hold of me, wrapping around me, knocking me backwards, lingering slightly longer than before, then, once again, gone as if never here.

Quickly shutting my eyes I go back to the doorway whilst my mind begins to spill over with bewilderment. Maxwell Harrison doesn’t even seem to have noticed my movement. He’s still standing with James, his forehead lightly resting against his shoulder.

I am completely and utterly perturbed, and I very quickly decide not to go anywhere near James again, because every time I look at him that shimmering light hits me.

“Can you watch over him?” Maxwell Harrison says suddenly to me.

“I’m sorry?” I utter, not fully registering his words, still wrapped up in my own puzzling thoughts.

He turns to me, wavering ever so slightly. “James, he’s got no one left. I’m his only family. We lost his mother, she died when he was still a baby. It’s always just been me and him. He’ll be all alone and I can’t bear the thought of it. I know him, he won’t take care of himself properly. Please, can you just watch over him? Take care of him. Make sure he’s okay. Please.”

Now he has my attention. This is not the first, or I imagine, the last time that I’ll be asked this. The Elders have taught us well on how to handle this situation.

“Maxwell Harrison -”

“Max. Please just call me Max.”

“- Max,” I continue in a soft voice, “this is not something I can do.” ‘Or right now would wish to,’ I silently add.

Max reluctantly leaves James’ side and takes a few steps toward me. “Have you ever been human?” he asks.

His question throws me. Surprisingly, I have never been asked this before.

“No,” I answer warily.

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes.”

There’s a long pause between us. Max looks at me impatiently. “What is it?”

“Lucyna.”

“Lucyna. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of that before. Is it some sort of special heavenly name?”

I smile. Max has a strange manner. Oddly, it makes me want to smile. I can honestly say I have never encountered anyone like him before in all my time.

“No. I believe there are some humans who also have this name, amongst their other names that is.”

He takes a deep breath. I find this intriguing. A human soul has no need to exert for air, but as the body requires it, it becomes a natural thing for them to do, even when no longer required. So they unknowingly continue with the pretence of breathing.

“Look, Lucyna I’m not asking for much. Just every now and then check in on him, make sure he’s doing okay.”

My eyes trail down to the floor, away from Max’s determined stare.

“Please, Lucyna,” he implores.

As his pleading words swirl around me, my voice of reason is urging me to once again tell him that it’s not possible. That it is most definitely not a possibility. It’s very much a rule breaker. The Elders are very clear on this; under no circumstances are we to honour this request.

I have been asked to do this thousands of times before by other humans, and have never once had any difficulty in explaining to them how this is not a possibility. If I and the other Bringers were to look in on every human we were requested to, we would never have time to tend to our duties. Yes, we could lie to them, ease their pain, but deception is not a part of who we are.

And yet, knowing this to be the case, why can I not seem to be able to bring myself to once again say it now?

And honestly, I really do not wish to be around James because, for some unknown reason, he seems to bring this odd shimmering light with him that insists on striking me at any given opportunity. It’s something I have never encountered before, or wish to again. And really, what could I do if James wasn’t coping? Nothing, obviously.

But as much as I try, I can’t seem to make my mouth convey the words.

I look back up at Max and can clearly see the hope on his face, as if written there in indelible ink, the very hope he is pinning on my response.

“I’ll do my best,” I hear myself saying.

Relief sweeps the breadth of Max’s face. “Thank you so much, Lucyna. You don’t know how much this means to me. I would kiss you right now, if it didn’t seem really inappropriate to do so.” He grins.

“Your thanks are plenty enough, Max.” I return his smile, far from wishing to as my mind is nearly combustible with turmoil.

What am I doing? This is not something I can commit to.

I know I’m the one speaking but I don't know where these words are coming from. It’s almost as if I’ve been taken over and someone else is now speaking for me.

Frantically, I try to search for the right words to take back my agreement with Max. Disappointingly, nothing comes to mind, or should I say nothing I find myself able, or more to the point, wanting to say?

“Max, you need to be aware that I won’t be able to tell you how James is doing. Once I leave you at your door to Heaven, we will never again see each other.”

His brows knit together. “Won’t I see you in Heaven?”

I shake my head. “No. Unfortunately Heaven is not a place I am permitted to access. I take you there, but never pass through.”