His fingertips brushed briefly against the back of his mother's outstretched hand, then Michael's arm dropped to his side. The momentum of the wind pulled him back toward the dead woman. His chest heaving with sobs, he turned away from his mother and reached for the woman's hand. “I'm ready."

Michael looked back toward his mother as they faded into the distance. “I love you, Mom,” he shouted. “Don't let Dad be mean anymore.” The pair faded into the tunnel, beginning their walk down the corridor of light.

19

Mr. Bakke and Jane swayed rhythmically on a suspended wooden swing, a rusted chain squeaking in protest with each forward movement. The unbearable humidity had even drained energy from the resort's guests. Vacationers had switched from high-speed to slow-motion to surrender. Jane fanned Mr. Bakke's newspaper back and forth attempting to stir the air. A group of guests meandered by the cabin and Jane waved the newspaper in greeting.

With one leg tucked under her and the other tapping against the wooden planking, Sadie sat next to them in an Adirondack chair. Billowing thunderheads clustered on the horizon.

"I sure hope that thunderstorm gets rid of the heat,” Jane said. “I've never sweat so much in my life."

"If you'd wear shorts, you'd feel better,” Sadie said without looking up from her magazine.

Belly waddled up to Sadie, licked her red toenails, and plopped down by her side. He looked from sister to sister, panting with discomfort.

Even though warm weather was good for business, the hot spell had been around too long. Sadie looked forward to a break. Earlier in the day she had assisted the resort manager with an unusually high volume of calls from city dwellers. Seeking relief from the heat seemed a priority. More than likely the weather was as hot at the resort as it was in the city, but the fact guests could spend time on the water made a trip up north worthwhile.

"You know I refuse to wear shorts. I don't want to become the brunt of jokes like you are."

"I beg your pardon.” Sadie closed her magazine and dropped it on the porch floor. “I'll have you know, this is a first class outfit. I paid good money for it."

"If that's what you think, then you need new eyes. You're wearing white pants.” Jane pointed as if that explained everything.

"I already know that,” Sadie said.

"Every time you walk in front of me, I can see your red thong through the fabric. You look ridiculous.” Jane nodded with conviction.

Sadie stood and walked over to Jane. “First of all these are Capri 's, not pants.” She turned around and bent over slightly. “Second of all, my red thong matches my red shirt and sandals. The waist part of the thong is supposed to show above my hip huggers. It's all the rage. If you'd read my fashion magazines once in a while, you'd know that."

Mr. Bakke rested his head against the back of the porch swing while his foot kept the swing in motion. As Sadie presented her fashion commentary, Mr. Bakke slid his glasses off the top of his head and positioned them over his eyes.

"Well don't go anywhere looking like that. And don't tell anyone you're related to me. I'd die of embarrassment if they found out,” Jane said.

"I think they already know that,” Mr. Bakke said.

Jane clucked her tongue in disgust. She glared at Mr. Bakke. “Put those glasses back on top your head and mind your own business."

Wrinkling her nose and fanning the air, Sadie said, “My goodness, Belly is rank tonight. Did you pawn your cooking off on him again?"

"A little bit,” Jane said. “I let him lick your plate since you didn't eat it. You shouldn't let good food go to waste."

Jane bent to pick the magazine off the porch floor and flicked at the dirt particles clinging to the cover. “Weren't you too hard on Aanders this afternoon? You had him in tears. I still think you should apologize."

"I'm not going to apologize.” Irritated Jane brought it up for the second time, Sadie said, “Tim's got Aanders believing his father was murdered. That's all he talked about on the way to the nursing home this morning. “

"But that's what Lon Friborg thinks, too."

"I understand that,” Sadie said. “That isn't what Tim and Aanders need to worry about. Tim's got to concentrate on his death decision. Time is growing short."

"From what you told me, Tim's imagination got the best of him,” Mr. Bakke said. “If he thinks he saw a rifle before the car rolled, I'll bet it was that movie that put those thoughts in Tim's head."

"I told Tim and Aanders that same thing. They refused to listen. How is Aanders going to learn to become a death coach if I'm not firm with him? He clearly doesn't grasp the importance."

Mr. Bakke pushed his glasses back on his nose. “I got the impression he doesn't want to serve as a death coach. He told me he was going to ask you to find someone else."

Jane took the newspaper off Mr. Bakke's lap and fanned the paper between them, causing his hair to stand erect with each swirl of air. “Why don't you do that, Sadie?"

"Do what?” Sadie waved at another group of guests passing by. The guest's dog bounded toward the porch and Belly uttered a half-hearted growl before laying his head back on his paws.

"Find another coach, so Aanders doesn't have to do it."

"In case you didn't notice,” Sadie said, “there isn't a Death Coaches-R-Us store in Pinecone Landing. I can't pull one off the shelf."

Aanders kept his gaze on his feet as he walked up to the porch and took both steps in a single stride. When Tim didn't follow, Aanders shot a quick glance at Sadie before hopping back down to assist Tim up the stairs. “He's weaker today."

"You've got to remember what we talked about,” Sadie said. “It's crucial the two of you concentrate on Tim's task.” Sadie watched Aanders put his arm around Tim's shoulder and guide him into the cabin.

A young couple walked past the porch and waved at the trio. “How you doing?” Sadie shouted.

The young man paused, dabbed at his face with the bottom of his T-shirt and said, “I'm really hot."

Nodding as she tapped her lip with her finger, Sadie said, “That's a bit vain. But if it works for you I'm okay with it."

Curtains of confusion fell over the faces of the young couple before the man began to laugh. As they walked away, the young man put his arm around his girlfriend. “That's the lady I've been telling you about."

The crossers gathered for their round table session. Rodney propped his feet on an adjacent chair and leaned against the table. Tim and Aanders sat opposite Rodney.

"Lora,” Sadie called out, “we can't get started until you join us."

Rodney pointed the remote control at the television and selected a rock video channel. He thumbed the volume button until the others cringed from the noise. Heavy bass rattled the windows.

Sadie grabbed at the remote, but Rodney raised it above his head. As Sadie jumped to reach the remote, Theo snatched it from Rodney's grasp. He pointed it at him and clicked furiously.

Rodney stomped toward the inner room and kicked his foot against the wooden door. “Let the cry baby stay in her room. She's been bawling all day. She cried at the nursing home and then we had to listen to her all the way home. I'm sick of it.” Rodney slammed his fist against the door. “You should be glad you're rid of that little prick."

A gasping sob came from behind the inner room door. Sadie opened it and reached for Lora. “You need to join us so we can make sense of what happened.” Sadie eased Lora from the room and guided her to a chair. “You've still got a decision to make."

"She already decided to go with her old man,” Rodney said. “She told me that when we got back. Let her go. Maybe he can set her straight."

Sadie ran her hand up and down Lora's back. She asked her to explain the exact circumstances that led to her son passing through to the other side. Lora relived the afternoon's events through heavy weeping.