“Not sure I have, Mum. But definitely a self-centred title.”

“It is. It sums up modern society pretty well. Anyway, he goes on to say that funerals are now used for eulogists to attempt to resurrect the dead by the power of fine words.” She looked up at Mackenzie and then down to the article again.

“It goes on to say that the last words at funerals come from friends and family, and their aim seems to be to build up the reputation of the dead person, so everyone will believe how good a person he or she was. It all seems designed to avoid the truth that the person is gone, that death is horrible, that bodies turn to dust, that the person hasn’t a chance of avoiding hell based on the quality of their lives.”

“Wow. He is being brutally honest.”

“He is, Mackenzie. But we need to be too, because friends and loved ones are going to hell. We see it as a celebration for believers who have finished their work and have gone home to the Father.”

The fly returned. Mackenzie did the shooing this time.

Mum continued. “Others, the unbelievers, see it as a celebration as well, but more of a closure event, something for those left behind. But then I often wonder, for those left behind, where has the person they’re saying goodbye to gone.

“What sort of funeral do atheists have? Those that specifically don’t want God involved?”

“Similar in structure, but with no mention of God and no Bible readings. They still celebrate the life of the person and recall fond memories, but that’s about it. I often wonder what would happen if the deceased unbeliever was able to come back during the service and report on where he has ended up. I can just imagine the smell of his burnt clothes and hair as he stood there, and the people streaming out of church screaming, ‘It’s true, it’s true. Hell exists’.”

Mackenzie laughed. “Oh, Mum, your imagination runs off the rails sometimes.”

“Sorry, love. I get frustrated too. I have had relatives die around me over the years and it hurts to know that I may not see them again . . . but I still hold on to some hope that I will. I think, deep down, most people believe they’re going to heaven.”

“That’s okay. I have learned a lot and I think you’re right. Most people believe they’re going to end up in heaven because God is love, but they forget he is also a just God. “

“That’s good, my love. Not too many grasp the just side of God, so you’re doing well. Now, to lighten up, when are we going to see Aaron?”

Jethro barked, and ran down to the end of the yard. He stayed at the corner barking. Mackenzie was sure she could see the gaps between the palings darken, as if someone was walking past.

Chapter 9

SEEING MACKENZIE'S RED CAR parked on the road, Aaron sprinted inside, gave Mum a hug, and told her he was shooting over to Mackenzie’s and would be back soon. She told him off as he sprinted out the door, leaving behind a trail of muddy footprints.

He rang the doorbell and waited, and the echo of the doorbell was soon replaced by the sound of footsteps. Mrs Gordon opened the door, with Mackenzie standing behind her. Mackenzie squeezed past and gave him a great big hug.

“Hello, army boy,” she said. “Wow, look at those muscles. I thought you would at least wear your uniform when you came to visit.”

Aaron looked down at his shorts, singlet and mud-covered footwear. “This is my uniform.” Jethro must have thought that was funny, because he gave a bark.

He noticed Mrs Gordon staring at his feet. “The tide was out and I had to retrieve a fish, hence the state of my feet. I tried to clean them. I’ll forgive you for not inviting me into the house. I was just keen to see your lovely daughter.” Aaron gave her a wink. She returned it with a smile.

Mackenzie tucked her arm in Aaron’s. “That’s fine. We’ll sit out here.”

Mackenzie led Aaron to the teak bench on the front porch and sat down with Mackenzie still holding on to his arm. The bench was surrounded by a number of potted plants and a fountain, which Mrs Gordon turned on. She told them that she loved the sound of running water— it was soothing for their souls.

Mackenzie laughed. “Mum’s got to bring God into everything.”

They watched her walk off.

Mackenzie turned her attention back to Aaron. “It’s so nice to see you, Aaron. How long are you here for?”

“A few weeks. I’m off overseas in January.” Aaron watched Mackenzie as she looked down at the wooden floor. She was such a pretty thing. He loved her hairstyle—short, blonde, and tucked behind her ears to reveal small silver earrings.

“Your dad would be so proud of you, Aaron. Is your mum okay about you being posted overseas?”

“She’s okay. She’s a bit of a worrier, especially with the recent news of some Aussie deaths in Afghanistan.”

“I can relate to that.” She looked over towards Aaron’s house. “You know, my Mum always tells me the story of watching you on the big skateboard ramp your dad built. She watched you standing on top of the ramp, overcoming your fears. She said she realised then what a determined boy you were going to be. Fear was not going to defeat you.”

“Well, I try not to let fear get a hold of me, Kenz.”

“I can imagine that isn’t always easy to do.”

“Yeah, it’s not at times, but I don’t want to be fearful. It could get in the way of things. But how are you going? How’s Paul?”

“Paul’s doing well. He’s interstate with work at the moment, back tomorrow and said he’s looking forward to catching up with you then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Church . . . you hadn’t forgotten?”

“I had, but it’s no problem. I just have no idea what day it is when I’m on holidays, and church on a Friday is different. In fact, I’m staying not too far from your church. I decided to book into a motel complex nearby for a few days.”

“Why aren’t you staying with your mum?”

“No room. She has some friends staying—easier to kick me out than them. Besides, I wanted to catch up with some army friends who live out that way.”

Mackenzie looked at her watch and appeared to be pondering something. Aaron just stared at her and wished he could turn back time. The video clip of Cher singing to a large group of sailors aboard a battleship jumped into his head. He was slipping more and more into holiday mode.

She looked up. “I have to go soon. I’m helping out at a sausage sizzle for the homeless in town. And seeing I don’t see you much, I think you should come with me.”

He wasn’t going to argue. Cher’s song was fighting for room in his head, but then the word homeless caught his attention, reminding him of the news item and the vanishings.

They went into town together on the ferry. Aaron liked to think of it as a romantic ride on the majestic Brisbane River with his beautiful Mackenzie. But it was just a practical thing to do, as Mackenzie was coming back to Bulimba to stay with her parents for the night and it saved the parking hassles in the city.

They sat at the front of the CityCat. Mackenzie kept looking around. She seemed quite edgy.

“Are you okay, Kenz?”

“I’m fine, Aaron. Besides, I have you to look after me.”

Aaron nodded and smiled. Yes, Mackenzie . . . always.

<°)))><

The CityCat glided quietly through the still waters. The Story Bridge came into view. They looked up to the summit of the bridge, some seventy-four metres to the water, similar to a twenty-two story building. Mackenzie and Aaron stared up at the bridge as they passed under. Mackenzie shrugged up her shoulders. She felt so tiny under the massive steel structure.

Mackenzie heard a soft sigh. She turned to Aaron. He was looking in the water. “Wotcha thinking about?’

“Suicides . . . people actually jump off this bridge . . . take their lives. Apparently jumping from a height is a done deal. Not like an overdose, where there’s a possibility of no death, a way out, a call for help. I just don’t understand why people do such things. But then again, maybe I do, because it’s a pretty sad world we live in.”