On his way to Paradise.(Kevin Hughes) Would you like to come to Paradise?”

I looked over at the woman who had just interrupted my reading. It was a public place, as are most Starbucks, but still, strangers shouldn’t just walk up and open a conversation with those words. She didn’t look crazy, or act like a Religious Nut. She looked, well, girl next door from the top of her still shining with youth hair, to her perfectly formed feet stuck in a pair of red converse tennis shoes. Okay, I don’t know if her feet were perfectly formed, but they were the right size for a perky not quite cheerleader type.

Her look was one of serious consideration. Like she had checked me out somehow and decided I was the one she would bother with her question. And what kind of question if that anyway?

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Well, to begin with, what’s your definition of Paradise? Are you a Call Girl or Escort trying to lure me somewhere to get beaten and robbed by your “associates?”

She laughed. An honest open filled with humor laugh. It was a wonderful laugh. So I joined in.

“Do I look like a call girl?”

She did a sexy moue with her tongue and mouth. I had to agree - she looked sexy, but not like a Call Girl.

“No, you look like the perfect High School Sweetheart…the kind you meet to early and stay married to for fifty years. And glad you did.”

She actually blushed.

“Well, that is quite the compliment. My offer still stands. Would you like to come to Paradise?

I looked around at the tables near mine. Nobody seemed to be paying attention. In fact, nobody even seemed to realize there was a cute girl standing over me…and asking me to go to Paradise. She must have noticed because she laughed again. This time it was a gentle teasing laugh. I loved it.


“They can’t see me, silly. I am here for you. And you alone.”

Well, the hairs on my neck sure perked up when she said that. Either she was crazy…or I was. I looked into my coffee …maybe somebody spiked it with some fancy hallucinogen or something. She asked me why I was looking into my coffee cup. I told her. She laughed again.

“I am not a hallucination. Here, touch me.”

She put out her hand and I took it. It felt soft, caring, kind. The kind of hand you want to hold at the beach, or while strolling through a park. The kind of hand you slip off your mittens in cold weather to hold. It was the ultimate girlfriend hand. So I kept holding it. She smiled and squeezed my hand back.

‘So, do you want to go to Paradise …or not?”

I laughed.

“Sure why not? When is the next shuttle?”

She laughed at my gentle sarcasm.

“There is no shuttle. Just you holding my hand is enough. Just don’t let go, and I will lead you to Paradise.”

So I did.

She turned, almost dragging me behind her. Nobody noticed. We never even bumped up against the clowns who rudely put their chairs in the thin aisles. I wondered about that at the time…it kind of nagged at me. But it was forgotten when we sort of turned into a burst of tiny points of light. Believe me, that will make you focus. I must have cried out , for she shushed me.

“Be quiet, darling. You don’t want to disturb others on the path.”

“What path?”

Was all my overloaded mind could pump out.

“This path!” (pointing to the myriad of colored lights that formed a stairway to …to…I guess Paradise).

Sure enough there were other people on the path. All being led by either the Girl Next Door type, or if they were female, by the Guy Next Door Type…and not a few were escorted by a guide of the same sex. I wondered about that. I must have said something out loud because she answered me:

“Oh, Paradise if for everyone. Not just a select few. If you know how to love, you can take this path. That is the only requirement.”

Okay, this was getting weird. I mean, really, love is the ticket? I must have spoken out loud…again. I wonder why I can’t hear me say things? She can.

“Yes, Love is the ticket to Paradise.”

“Well then you have to take me back. I have never been in Love.”

She turned and gave me a wide eyed stare. I swear she looked like she was going to cry. I didn’t want that at all. So I hugged her. Don’t ask me why. But I did.

“You love me, don’t you?”

I almost gasped. This time I did hear me.

“Yes,…yes, I do. With all my heart.”

She hugged me back.

“See? That is the only way to get to Paradise.”

I smiled. I took her hand, and we started skipping our way to Paradise.

*****

The Manager of the Starbucks told the Paramedics he didn’t know the man at all. He had ordered an Ice coffee with milk, and was siting in a crowded corner. He stood up with a big smile on his face, reached out for someone’s hand…and fell. Dead. One of the Baristas gave him CPR, but it didn’t help. The Paramedics helped clean up the area, and picked up their gear. Then they loaded the body with great respect on the gurney. Everyone was somber as the Paramedics pulled the covered body through the narrow aisle.

One of them spoke up:

“It’s okay, folks. He is on his way to Paradise."

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