Aslan felt the click when the knife, wielded with such force, pierced his heart and hit a rib on the opposite side. Even in his final agony, he noticed how cold the stone felt against his warm body. Then the pain resurged as she rudely wrenched the knife from the wound.
His legs stiffened for a moment, then fell limp. It was to him as if all the torches went out at once and a night with no moon or stars swallowed up everything in its deadly darkness.
***
The marine walked forward. The tunnel through which he travelled was couched in shadows, but at the end beckoned a brilliant white light. He ambled along serenely, noting that he felt no more pain and, despite the surreality of what he saw, he felt no more fear. That’s not to say he felt no more regrets. There would be the usual telegram from the War Department coming for Dad. His name would be added to the
Pro Patria Mori list hanging in the church. Janice would have to put her dreams on hold until another love came into her life. His brother Todd would get his hunting rifle—his letters home made that quite clear.
The passage seemed to go on for hours or it could have been days. He passed the shadows of people he had once known. They seemed to regard him with friendly recognition but no surprise. He waived at his Grandmother Tuttle and she nodded her head in reply.
Finally, he emerged into the light. He stood at the edge of a bottomless canyon. Crossing it was a large ornate stone bridge that looked wide enough to drive a Jeep across easily. And beyond it on the other side were green meadows with flowers and trees, and on past that distant misty mountains reaching into a cloudless pure sky. As he approached the bridge he heard something behind him and looked around.
What he saw startled him, or the closest feeling to being startled that he could manage. It was a lion, a very large lion. His face was surrounded by a rough stubble of mane and in his side was a terrible gaping wound.
The serenity of the moment was shattered. Charlie went to the lion without fear; somehow in his heart of hearts he knew it was alright.
“Hey there fellow, what happened to you?”
“The same thing that happened to you. I died for my country.”
For some reason, Charlie was not shocked that the lion answered him. What disturbed him the most was the suffering that the lion had no doubt endured.
Though Charlie was a hunter, he had never bagged anything bigger than a squirrel or groundhog, and the large sad noble face of the lion broke his heart. Besides, it was clear this was no clean kill; that cat had been tortured and desecrated.
“Who did this to you??”
“In a way it was a good friend.”
“Are you saying it was an accident?”
“More like poor judgment.”
Charlie put his arms around the lion’s neck and gave him a pat. “Kind of like my running down to enlist, hmm? We old soldiers ought to stick together. Stay with me, friend, and I’ll look after you.”
The lion looked up at him. “Would you look after me, Charlie?” Aslan smiled. “I will look after you. While I must go on alone, your time has not yet come. Go home, get well, and go squirrel hunting with your father. I’ll come back when you’re ready. Remember me.”
***
Charlie awoke. The pain was bad, but it felt different somehow. He couldn’t move much, but he glanced about at the bottles, the doctors, the bright lights.
“He’s coming around,” the orderly said.
“My my, you’re quite lucky,” the Navy doctor said. “One of your buddies pulled you to safety.”
“Two of them,” Charlie whispered.
“Well Charles, we can save this arm if infection doesn’t set in. This is a ticket home, you lucky stiff!”
“My arm??” Charlie asked. “I was shot in the arm??”
His eyes closed and as he slipped back into unconsciousness, he muttered, “Remember me…”
THE END
