Author Archives: Betheny Lynn Reid

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About Betheny Lynn Reid

I write as Betheny Lynn Reid, B.L. Reid, and Betheny L. Reid.

Are There Guns In Heaven?

Steve Connors was a good man.  A regular guy meaning he played football in high school, made B’s and C’s at the state University, graduated, rabble-roused a little bit in his youth, got a job, married a good woman he had known a long time, had two kids, only cussed with his buddies or when alone, was a good son, was a good son-in-law, and paid his taxes.

He knew something was really wrong when he woke up. Everything was white. White sheets, white walls, white…

“What is that?” He wondered.

“White mist?  Am I on a friggin’ cloud?”

Steve bolted up.  He was wearing white cotton pajamas. I never wear white cotton pajamas. He looked around. There was no furniture, no windows, no doors.

“Am I in an insane asylum?”

He was feeling sweaty, agitated, confused, and a bit scared though he was good at keeping that last emotion in check.

He looked at the floor. White mist. 

“I’m in a cloud.” He decided not to step down.

“I’m dead.”

He pinched his skin.

“Nope.”

He yelled, “Hello?!”

Silence.  Absolute silence. Then…

“Hello, Steve.”

“Holy shit!” Steve jerked. “Where’d you come from?”

“Just right there,” She said pointing nowhere.  She looked older than Steve but younger than his mother.

“Where the fuck am I… sorry about my bad language.”

“You’re in between.”

“In between what?”

“Life and death.”

Steve felt numb.  He didn’t move at all for several minutes.

“It’s confusing I know. But you and I have to talk about some important things right now, Steve.”

“Is this one of those near-death experiences I hear about? People going to the light and then come back into the body?”

She smiled.

“Something like that.”

Steve shifted around in the bed.

“This is fucked up shit. Am I drunk?”

“No.”

“Then where am I?  What is this place?  Are we on a cloud?”

She smiled again.

“It’s like a cloud.  You are between living on Earth and leaving, dying, from Earth.  You and I need to talk about some very important things. She paused. “ And then you have to decide what you’re going to do.”

“Decide what?”

“Decide what you’re willing to do if you return to Earth.”

“If!”

“Yes, Steve.  You made a deal with me before you were born on Earth and you’ve not lived up to your part. Yet.”

“Lady, I’ve never seen you before.”

“You have. You just don’t remember.”

“Am I in a hospital dying from cancer or a car accident?”

“No. You were one of nineteen people shot at your daughter’s school picnic. A gunman with an AR-15 assault weapon walked onto the grounds and fired multiple rounds into the children, also hitting some parents.

“Fifteen children are dead.  Four of you are being rushed to the hospital. Two will die on the way. Two of you are having conversations with your Guides right now.”

Steve had his hands on either side of his head trying to hold in his racing thoughts.

“Fifteen children are dead?”

“Yes.”

“Two more people will die?”

“They just have actually.”

“Who?”

“I’m sorry to tell you that your daughter, Annabella, was one of them.”

Steve screamed and started to get out bed, but looked down at the mist then fell back on the bed.

“She was one of the ones who just died?”

“Yes, Steve.  She didn’t suffer though.”

Steve was sobbing.  Shoulders slumped. Defeated.

“My precious baby girl.”

Steve rolled onto his stomach and buried his head in the pillows, crying.

He woke with a start.

“Shit. Am I in the same place?”

He flipped around.  She was still there.

“How long was I asleep?”

“A while.”

“What is happening to me on Earth?”

“You’re just now entering the emergency room.”

“What? It’s been forever.”

“Time and space are different here, Steve.”

Steve closed his eyes. Rubbed them. Shook his head.

“OK. What is it I’m supposed to learn?  What deal did we make? And why did Annie have to die!” He was screaming again.

“Annie died because she fulfilled her purpose on Earth.”

“She was only eight.  What purpose could have been done by then?”

“The deal she made before being born was that she was willing to die the way she did.”

“She knew she would be killed?”

“She knew while she was here, but she didn’t know it on Earth. Steve, because she fulfilled her agreement she did not suffer at all when she died.”

“Why would she agree to die like that?”

“So you would have the chance to course correct your life.”

Steve could only look at her.

She stood silently. Her face was gentle.

“Okay okay. So what have I done wrong?”

“It isn’t a case of doing something wrong per se.  It’s a case of do you want to fulfill your real purpose on Earth instead of just living a good, decent life.”

“A good life isn’t good enough I guess. I don’t know what you mean by me living my real purpose. I’m a decent man.”

“Yes you are.  She waited. “And you agreed that you would be more.”

“Can you just tell me what I need to do?  I’m getting really tired of this conversation.”

She smiled again.  “Why do you think it was a gunman with a powerful, military-type assault rifle that killed your daughter, and now, sixteen other people, and has you and another person pending?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ve always been responsible with guns. Granddaddy taught me to respect guns. I’ve always had to clean my rifle before we went hunting. We always eat what we kill. I have never been sport hunting. I don’t believe there is such a thing as ‘sport’ in hunting.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly. Exactly what?”

“You have always been very respectful of guns. You have always been very careful. Why then do you let others talk and behave irresponsibly about guns?”

“I can’t stop people from buying what they are legally allowed to buy. Shit. Is this about gun control?”

She smiled.

“You’re fucking kidding me!”

“Steve, I think it’s a little bit more since you’re here. You made a deal with me before you were born on earth that you were going to be the voice of reason about guns. You agreed You would be willing to stand up to your friends and the NRA so that things did not get out of hand about guns the way they have.

“You’ve done nothing about it for years.

Steve, people like you. People respect you. People follow you. You have never been out of control with guns. You have never been unreasonable with the type of guns and ammunition you purchase.

“The deal was that you would use your credibility as “one of the guys”, a hunter, to be a leader in your country to bring sanity to the type of weapons and ammunition that are available, and more importantly, how people gain access to guns.

“Annabel agreed to be your daughter knowing she would be gunned down if you didn’t step up to your higher purpose.

“You have a choice now.  Her death can mean nothing, or you can step up and live your higher purpose on Earth.

“You mean I live?”

She smiled.

Steve closed his eyes and cried again.

When Steve Connors opened his eyes, he saw his wife sitting beside him. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She sobbed when she saw that Steve was now waking up after his surgery.

“It’s a miracle, thank you God, it’s a miracle,” was all she could say when she collapsed into Steve’s arms.

“Honey, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Annie…” his wife started to say.

“Honey, Annie is okay. I know she’s gone from us here, but I’ve been to heaven. I know Annie didn’t die with pain.

“And she won’t die in vain either honey.

“Babe, there’s no guns in heaven and we’re going to bring just a little bit of that heaven down here on earth.”

Author’s Note: This story was written years ago, long before the current mass shootings in Uvalde, Texas and Buffalo, New York.

Fallen From Her Grace

photo from NASA

I, too, would shout and scream

kick and bite

and do every dirty trick

I could

If you were trying to hurt me

and had been doing so for a long time.

Floods, tornadoes, extreme heat, pandemic…

have had to become your defense weapons.

And so, my Mother Earth,

I have no complaint with you.

You have no choice.

You have forgiven us too many times before

and we are no longer

worthy of your grace.

Growing Family

Little feet

padding quickly on the wooden floor

from his room

to ours

in the middle of the night

standing by my bed

waiting.

I reach down with one hand

and sweep my toddler son

into the middle of our bed.

He lays flat on his back

placing one hand on his dad

and one hand on me.

deep sigh

then falls back asleep.

Bigger feet

lumbering across the wooden floor

from his room

to the kitchen

early in the morning.

Refrigerator door opens

he stands

grazing

on leftovers dipped in ranch dressing he leaves in little bowls

just for this purpose.

Pops a can of flavored water

then back to his room.

Grown feet

softly walking from his childhood room

to the kitchen

where he stands

boils water

for morning tea.

He feeds our cats

whom he misses when he not here.

Looks at his work emails

plays news podcasts.

We are still his home

but he has a new home too

with his beloved

who is our new beloved too.

28 enero 2022

I Would Color This Winter Wind

The birds knew it just before I did.

They had been singing and flying tree to tree

following me on my morning walk.

The air was very still.

It was quiet except for the serenade of the birds…and squirrels.

Then silence.

They all landed on trees or scurried into bushes.

I stopped.

Then we were all blasted with the north wind.

This is how winter arrives in north Texas.

If I could color this wind

it would be a mix of white white white

and fresh sea blue.

It would be a swirl of these colors

rolling across the sky

leaving a shivering trail.

Nothing moves after it passes.

The grass, still green,

is shocked.

Not a blade bends.

This is when I bundle up and stay outside.

My neighbors know my blue ankle length Arctic coat

With boots, ski pants, hat, sweater and gloves.

I’m a pudgy figure waddling around our empty streets.

I belong outside.

I always have.

Mostly I like it warm,

just wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

But I’ve found a way to be in cold weather.

A kind of winter solidarity with the animals

who have no choice

other than to seek shelter and warmth

snuggled under leaves

and in bushes and nests.

I talk to them as I walk around.

I don’t see them

but I know they are there.

They know I’ll keep pouring water over the ice in the bird bath

and saucers I’ve set out for them.

I imagine them peering out at me.

I think they are thanking me.

I know I am them.

Morning Walk

The moon

looks like a gentle watercolor

fading in the sky this morning.

Only the birds and squirrels

seem to be awake

and me.

There’s a falcon

sitting on a neighbor’s mailbox.

A falcon.

In the city.

I stopped and looked.

The falcon stopped and looked too.

Then he flew away.

And I walked on.

There’s a very thin layer on ice

on the creek,

I stop

and just look as the sunlight

glistens it.

As I round the curve in the road

back toward my house

I remember Thich Nhat Hanh

who died earlier today.

I thank him for teaching the world

how to walk

mindfully.

22 enero 2022

Clara Smoking Her Cigar

I only was with her for half a day, touring her tobacco farm in Cuba. Well, not really “her” farm, but the land she farmed in some kind of quasi-ownership relationship with the Cuban government. Not sure what.

We, my family and I, walked through the rows ploughed in the fields by donkeys pulling an anvil. The land was rocky and didn’t look too fertile to me. It looked dry. Hard work to produce just even tobacco leaves to fill 3-4 barns for drying. There were several empty barns waiting for a better crop year.

Clara stayed at her house, waiting for our return where her husband showed us how to roll our own Cuban cigars. We did it poorly, but were allowed to return our failed attempts to the common bowl.

Then Clara slowly handed us each a cigar she had rolled. She showed us how to puff just so, like a true Cuban. She took extra delight in teaching my handsome, nineteen year old son how to do it. Watching the two of them puff back and forth was the joy in watching people connect when they seem to have little else in common.

As we waved goodbye, I turned for one last look and saw Clara leaning on her window sill. She looked content with her cigar. Her world.