As dawn crept over the hills to the east, Jake pushed through the tunnel of trees toward the field. It seemed narrower this time, as if the branches had grown closer in just a few days, the green boughs now brushing his shoulders as he moved forward.
He pushed past the curtain of willow branches at the end of the corridor and stopped. The instant his foot hit the ground on the other side, a surge of adrenaline sent him stumbling to his right. Nothing looked different. The trees, the grasses, the pond, the waterfall were all the same. But he knew the meadow had changed.
This time he felt like he was part of the field. He was in the field but the field was also inside of him. The thought made little sense in his head, but this wasn’t a place of the mind—it was of the heart. Peace coursed through his body, mind, and soul, and he had no doubt he was about to be given what he wanted most in the world.
He closed his eyes, breathed deep, then opened them and eased forward. The ground under his feet felt softer, the breeze coming straight at him warmer than his first time here, the calls from the birds in the trees more melodic.
Jake didn’t think, didn’t need to. He allowed himself to be drawn in without consideration of where his feet would take him. A rabbit scurried out from under the brush like before, but this time it spotted him, stopped, and stared directly at him for a moment before scampering back into the brush and disappearing from sight.
He looked back at the branches of the willow tree now blocking his view of the corridor. The real world had vanished. Real world? This one he now stood in was as real as anything on the other side. His friends back at the house were the ones living in a dream.
Jake turned back and now the meadow did look different. Nothing significant. Little nuances like the color of the sky overhead. A deeper blue. The emerald leaves of the aspen trees more vibrant. He closed his eyes again and strolled forward, breathing air that seemed to make him lighter, that seemed to pour strength into his arms and body and legs. His skin tingled as if it was . . . yes, on fire. But a fire of power and life.
When Jake opened his eyes again, he found himself standing at the edge of the pond. The water seemed clearer than before, the creek feeding it more animated as it cascaded over the glistening boulders, the tall grasses at the pond’s edge greener than before.
An otter broke the surface on the other side of the pond and Jake watched the ripples slowly come toward him till they reached his side. As they died he studied his reflection in the water, starting with his face and working his way down his body till he fixed his gaze on his legs. As he stared at the mirror image, Jake shook his head. Not possible. The reflection in the water couldn’t be accurate.
Jake staggered back and went down hard when his heel caught on something behind him. He tried to catch his breath—not from the fall but from wonder—sat up, closed his eyes, and begged God to make the reflection real.
When he opened them he stared at his legs, mouth cracked open. They were whole. Perfect. His skin faultless, muscles sinewy and strong. He flexed one leg, then the other. Jake reached toward them in slow motion as if his legs weren’t real and if he touched them they would morph back into the repulsive, scarred sticks he’d lived with for the past year and a half.
A finger, then two, then his whole hand. They were real. Laughter started deep inside and spilled into the early morning air like a geyser. Without looking, he reached back and ran his hand over his right calf. Smooth. Perfect. Was it there? His M-Dot? He twisted and looked down. Yes. There, the dark red of the ink, the black outline, both as fresh as the day he’d had it done. Unbelievable.
Wait. Had he been healed completely? Jake leaped to his feet and tore off his shirt. He jerked his head down at the same time his hands fumbled on his hips, his glutes, his upper thighs. Yes!
Jake kicked off his shoes and dove into the pond. Was that okay in this holy place? More than okay, his heart shouted. This was a time to immerse himself in the wonder of what God had given him and let God’s joy course through his body like a flood. Why had he doubted? Why had he pushed God away for so long?
Forgive me.
He swam toward the other side of the pond. Halfway across, a realization struck him though it should have already been obvious. Not only had his body been healed cosmetically and structurally, his strength had been restored. The muscles he’d worked so hard to develop had returned to what they’d been before. Maybe stronger.
When he reached the other side, Jake pulled himself from the water and took off in a full sprint toward the far side of the meadow, then ran full out in a circle around the entire field. It had to be at least a half mile around. Yes! No worry about his body overheating. When sweat seeped from his lower torso he swiped it onto his fingers and stared at the water and laughed. To sweat again! Seemed strange to celebrate something that had always been such an irritant, but it was so right.
When he reached the tree line where he’d started, Jake jogged to a stop and let his gaze sweep the meadow again and again. Whatever this place was, it was without question a slice of heaven. Why God had created it, who could know? Why did only certain people find it? No idea. All he knew in this moment was a gratitude toward God he couldn’t express in words.
“Yes, Lord!” He shouted it with everything inside, his arms thrust to the heavens. Then he fell back—floated back would be more accurate—and collapsed onto the lush grass. His arms were wide, his legs splayed out as laughter again poured out of him.
Time slowed till it slipped away. He lay in the meadow and let the wind blanket him. Finally he rose and looked at the corridor that would take him back to his life. Life the way it should be.
Jake shook his head. He was healed. Jake grabbed his legs and squeezed his flexed muscles. Whole. Restored. Time to show the world.
He sprinted back to the pond, scrambled at its edge, picked up and put on his shirt. The pull to stay in this paradise was strong, but the lure of the corridor was stronger. He had to go to his friends, shout to them and the world about what God had done.
Had to find Susie, find Leonard, find Peter, and tell them what had happened. An image of Ari filled his mind. For the first time since he’d met her, Jake allowed his deep feelings to surface. He was drawn to her like he’d never been drawn to another woman. More than anything he wanted to get to know her, see if what he’d imagined in her eyes when she looked at him was real. He could almost believe God had orchestrated their meeting through Peter, and this orchestration was now a resounding new symphony. Now he was whole. Now he could be who he really was with Ari.
She’d already stayed two days longer than originally planned. Maybe she’d be willing to stay a few more. Maybe he would invite her for a long walk as soon as breakfast was over and tell her about his journey.
Jake sprinted back toward the curtain of willow vines and plowed through them ten seconds later. He turned and took a last glance at the meadow, trying to burn an image of it into his mind. But he knew he didn’t have to try hard. The memory of this morning would never fade.
He half ran, half walked through the winding tunnel of trees that would lead him back to the water, back to his kayak, back to the cabin. A minute later the ground grew soft. Thirty seconds after that Jake was up to his waist in water, pushing aside the cattails.
As he slogged forward, the cattails seemed to have grown stronger, and he had to push harder to get through them. But soon he reached the spot where they thinned and he was swimming toward his kayak. His strength wavered a bit as he swam, the adrenaline of his encounter with heaven subsiding, but the peace it had given only increased.
How was he to describe what had happened when he got back to the house? He would show his friends, of course, but what words could he find to tell them about the meadow, his restoration, the overwhelming sense of God in that place? Would they believe him? After one look at his legs they would have to. And what if they wanted to come with him next time? Maybe Leonard was wrong. Would he even be allowed to find it again?
Enough. Their questions would come and he held no answers. But if possible he would do everything in his power to bring them all to the corridor.
Just before reaching his kayak, Jake glanced at the spot where Leonard had been when he’d first reached the end of the lake. He didn’t expect the old man to be there, and he wasn’t. But Jake had hoped he would be. Who to tell first? Had to be Leonard.
Jake hoisted himself into his kayak with more effort than he expected and slid into the seat. The experience had understandably sapped as much energy from him as it had given. It made sense. He hadn’t run like that for eons, and even in a place like the meadow, his lungs weren’t accustomed to that kind of exertion. Let alone his mind being overwhelmed in a state from the emotional roller coaster. He grinned.
As Jake reached for his paddle he caught a glimpse of his legs. His scarred, burnt legs.