Clive deserved this trip. He had done everything he was supposed to do in life, but that meant that he never got to travel like he had planned many years before, when he was a young man. He had given much of his life to others: his wife, his children, his mother, and his job. That was fine, but now it was his turn. He guessed that he only had a decade before there would be no denying that he was old, but he was still strong and he would use these years of retirement for himself.
He leaned over and picked up a coil of rope when a muscle pulled in his back and pain shot through the left side of his chest like the blade of a thin filet knife. He would have squawked, but a bulk of weight landed on him like a thousand days and it pushed him to the ground into a seated position. His sense of youth flew from him with the marsh wind that buzzed in the heights of the live oak trees. Something was wrong.
How could this be? He was finally getting his chance to see the world; then this. He lifted his right arm to wipe a cold sweat from his eyes when his vision blurred. Dizziness. He melted into his driveway and looked through the last haze of life at the blue sky.
Clive Kinsella lived a good life. He had a family who loved him and he was never without a job, a place to live, or a warm meal. But Clive died unfulfilled. Despite all his gifts he could only see what he didn't have. He never wrote for a big newspaper in a big city. He never traveled the world. In fact, he never got out of his small Southern town. And ... he never faced the ghosts that haunted him.
At his own funeral Clive meets Pachu, his grandfather who had died years before, and with Pachu he begins a journey through his life where he has to finally face his greatest regrets and agonies. But, if Clive can't overcome his regrets he'll be forced to wander the place between Heaven and Earth. Each day Clive revisits events in life in a sort of spiritual recording, the same events that took him from being an optimistic young man to a curmudgeon.