Life After Life Read Online Free PDF Page A

Kennedy and what on earth she would do now. Sadie almost asked what he would do if she were the one to die young, but she didn’t want to go there. She doesn’t even like to go there now with her eighty-five and him dead nearly forty years. Of course he would have found someone else, but ultimately it was she left behind and she didn’t want to think about any of it. When she doesn’t want to think about something sad or hurtful, she does what she instructed her own children and those she taught to do: Close your eyes and go somewhere safe and good. Picture something good. One child even made up a big sign with what he thought were the rules to being happy: PRETEND YOU AIN’T DIRTY FROM PLAYING EVEN IF YOU ARE, THINK GOOD THOUGHTS, THINK ABOUT AN ANIMAL YOU WOULD LIKE TO HAVE. She hung the rules in the front of her classroom and they stayed there for years. Now the boy who wrote them is very rich and owns a horse farm in Montana. Sadie has gotten a Christmas card from him every single year except the one time he was getting a divorce. He always says his work keeps him very dirty, but it never gets in the way of his happiness. He always tells her thank you.
    Sadie herself had always wanted a little dog that would follow her from room to room like a shadow and that is exactly what she got after Horace died. She loved the big yellow Labradors they had always had as a family: Honey and Goldie and Spitz, after the swimmer who won all those gold medals, but Rudy was all hers, a little Pekingese she misses to this day, but sometimes if she lays her sweater just right at the foot of her bed, it looks just like him, and sometimes she can even get to a place in her mind where she can hear him snore. She loves when Harley comes meowing at her door and spends some time purring on her lap. Bless poor Harley, the way he is treated these days. She wants to tell those who are so mean to him that the one they should really fear coming and sitting beside them is little Joanna Lamb; she’s the one who comes to usher out those ready to go. She is the real sweet angel of death and, Sadie suspects, is very good at what she does. She was always a fine student even though she had some trouble finding her way. She liked to do jobs like beat the erasers or straighten up the cloakroom and Sadie assigned her these things often in hopes it would build some confidence. Her parents were fine hardworking people, but they were hard on her to succeed, maybe too hard. Some children just can’t take that; some just don’t have the makeup and they need to be handled in a gentler way. Joanna was one of those who always looked like she needed a hug and Sadie was big on hugging. Now they have all kinds of rules about hugging and touching. What on earth would you do with the boys like Bennie Palmer who wanted to hug and kiss everybody? Children used to baaaa when Joanna came in the classroom and there were some who wanted to make her always sit beside Bo Henderson, a tiny boy with a terrible stutter, who some of the children who had not grown out of being mean called Bbbbo Ppppeep. He turned out fine, too—went to a school that broke down and rebuilt his voice, grew to be over six feet tall, started selling high end real estate and now could buy and sell most every one of those who were cruel to him. People say Joanna has been married too many times to count, but Sadie does not like idle gossip and never has, besides, what does it really matter. She knows how Joanna treats her and that is all the business of hers it is. Some people struggle harder than others and that has always been true. Take a classroom of eight-year-olds. Some will be good readers and not mind a bit standing and performing. Others cannot put any expression into it because they are having to concentrate so hard on the pronunciation of each and every word. Then some could be fine readers but are so frightened to be looked at and on and on. “Each child moves in his own way,” she often