Every story has a beginning, a middle and an end. But shrouded within every story is a secret. There is no beginning, and there is no end. For something had always set the stage for the play to follow, and for when the final curtain had fallen, another play was set to begin; with the same players dressed for different parts. Throughout the untold ages, beings have fought, died and killed for the things they believed in. Sparked by their innate passions. Passion in and of itself is glorious. For without it, beings would never find their true calling. Their reason for being in the first place. In that passion, they have the potential to find love. The force for which none is greater. With love comes compassion and understanding. With these things comes oneness with all that was, is or ever will be. In essence, passion is an uncontrollable emotion. That which can also drive beings away from love; and drive them instead toward hate. The force which only serves to blind and confuse. If love opens a door, hate closes a door. Passion is therefore an eternal struggle; with the same players dressed for different parts. Every story has a middle.
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Table of Contents
- Chapter 1: Jūbun ni Chikai (Close Enough)
-- 1-1: Ohayō (Good Morning)
-- 1-2: Hāmonī (Harmony)
-- 1-3: Paradaisu Chūdan (Paradise Interrupted)
-- 1-4: Masutā Sairentowan (Silent Master)
- Chapter 2: Māku (Mark)
-- 2-1: Janpu Man (Jump Man)
-- 2-2: Māku Futatsu (Mark 2)
-- 2-3: Burūpiru (Blue Pill)
-- 2-4: Pater Ex Machina (Father from the Machine)
- Chapter 3: Los Angeles (The Angels)
-- 3-1: Every Rose Has Its Thorn
-- 3-2: Just Like Every Night Has Its Dawn
- Chapter 0: In A Gadda Da Vida (In The Garden of Eden?)
-- 0-1: Et Dic-Fabula Cor (The Tell-Tale Heart)
-- 0-2: Magicae Regnum (Magic Kingdom)
-- 0-3: Gaudeamus Igitur (Happy Birthday)
-- 0-0: Cat's in Cunis (Cat's in the Cradle)
-- 0-4: XXIII Palmarum (23 Palms)
As Just Another Day begins, my heart goes out to you;
Flowers will bloom, for you who are here or yet to be born;
Until there is no missing sorrow and no reason left to mourn;
You will live and remember and love us forever more...
Chapter 1: Jūbun ni Chikai (Close Enough)
Now with more emotion than a cowboy country song!
1-1: Ohayō (Good Morning)
Sonohi wa, hoka no onaji yō hajimeta. That is to say, the day began just like any other; to the sound of my zen garden's fountains. That which has never failed to inspire peaceful thoughts within myself, my wife and my children. As I crawled out of fushido, I glanced outside just in time to see the sun peeking out over the nearby hillside. What a majesty it was to behold. Some things never get old. I took a deep breath and repeated my morning mantra before making my way downstairs toward the daidokoro. I then picked a fine set of tea leaves from the indoor planter, and proceeded to grind them in a ceramic bowl for use in that morning's herbal green tea. My wife, Noemi, came in just as I finished boiling the water. She looked as lovely as the day I first laid eyes on her. Noemi said with a smile across her face, "Anata ga mainichi kore o iu, kawaī!" I did say that every day, and I meant those words truly.
We sat down to drink our tea, and considered our plans for the following day. Noemi reminded me that one of us needed to make a trip into the village for an additional weaved container to store away our summer clothing in the coming winter. I agreed to make the trip myself. It would be a good walk. Noemi then went to retrieve the mail while I washed out our empty tea cups. When she returned, she said something that took me quite by surprise, "Anata wa Indiana-shū kara Māku o shitte imasu ka?" Mark from Indiana? Now that was a name I had not heard in a long time. His co-workers and I usually referred to him by a different name, but in all the years it had been since I last spoke with him, I could not remember. He certainly adored his Star Wars references. Whatever message he had for me could wait. I decided now might be the best time to run that errand. I kissed my wife, slipped into my shoes and ventured outward...
1-2: Hāmonī (Harmony)
Along the meandering path to the village, I stopped by an old creek. It was a place that often brought me peace. The flowing water was like a beautiful sonnet, and the birds and trees were as players on a stage. The alluring scent of flowers such as the honeysuckle and kinmokusei were merely an extra! With such serene sounds and pleasant aromas, I would sometimes meditate there for hours. As I returned to the path to continue my journey, I caught a brief glimpse of a tanuki. They are said to be compassionate partners and fathers, taking an active role in the parenting of pups. Some folks consider them omens of misfortune, but I never bought into that myself. I simply admired gentle creatures. I had made this trek many times before, but there was just something about it that always filled me with inspiration. Everything from the way the wind whispered through the valley to the occasional sight of butterflies, the gentlest of all creatures. They almost appeared to follow me on my journey!
As I entered the village, I just happened to spot a dog wandering near the outskirts. It appeared to be a Shiba Inu. It was an adorable little fellow. A leash was tied to its back, leaving me with only one conclusion. It had strayed from its home. I gave it a pat on the head and urged it to return there. I then made my way toward the crafting shop. The owner, Refael, and I went way back. He and his family helped me adjust to my new life here in the countryside. I grew ever tired of life in the big city, and desperately needed a change of pace. They too came here to escape the hustle and bustle. This was before I even met Noemi. Refael saw me enter the shop and came over to greet me. We bowed to one another before he said with delight, "Watashi no furuku kara no yūjin! Dono yō ni subete ga aru? Watashi wa hige ga kanzen ni seichō shite kita koto o ureshiku omoi!" Refael, always the kidder. My beard had been fully grown for years. I told him what I came in for, and as luck would have it, he already had one pre-made in the store room around back. Refael retrieved it for me, and gave me the usual discount. A mere 1000 yen.
With my new weaved container in hand, I began my walk back to the village entrance. As long as I live, I will never forget what I heard and saw next. A young boy cried out in terror, "HIGUMA! HIGUMA!" Out of shock, I dropped my belongings; my mouth and eyes wide open. A large brown bear had made its way into the area, and appeared to be feasting on something near the outskirts. There was blood everywhere. I very cautiously took a closer look. As I had suspected in horror, it was the Shiba Inu from earlier! With very few options, I waved my arms in the air in an attempt to assert dominance, but that only seemed to anger the bear. It turned to face me, and began to charge. Just in the nick of time, a villager put a bullet through the skull of the bear. As if in slow motion, a stream of blood splattered onto my face and clothing. I fell to my knees in tears as I surveyed the scene. Just like that, two animals were dead. And it was my own damn fault! If I had only walked the dog into the village when I first saw it, both would still be in their proper places. When life has a point to make, it really sinks it in! I decided at precisely that moment I would indeed answer Mark's letter...
1-3: Paradaisu Chūdan (Paradise Interrupted)
I stumbled back to my humble abode in a blood drenched, dusty haze. Noemi, who had been sitting on the porch awaiting my return, began to panic upon my arrival. I assured her that I was alright. Once inside, she helped me out of my stained clothing, and I made retreat for the wash room. Immediately following a quick shower, I redressed in one of my finer robes. I then returned to the daidokoro, and opened Mark's letter with a paper knife. My untold suspicion was correct. He wished for me to fly out to Indiana for a company event. Gridline Games had been ancient history for decades now, but Mark had made a sufficient living selling desktop applications under his own brand, plop! Inc. His letter read in full, "Greetings, Aratana Hajimari! I realize it was A LONG TIME AGO we last spoke, and you live so FAR, FAR AWAY, but I wished to formally invite you to a one of a kind event I will be holding here at my company in Indiana. A number of our former colleagues will be in attendance. I cannot say very much about it in this letter, but be advised, you will be under a non-disclosure agreement upon arrival. I have enclosed directions with this letter. Spacefare included. Oh, and may the force be with you!" Help me, Sairentowan, you are my only hope!
I entered my study, opened the desk drawer, and pulled out my old work portfolio. It had been so many years since I last looked it over, it was covered in dust. With a swift blow from my lungs, I cleared the portfolio, and rather nervously began to flip through its pages. I could not believe some of the stuff I had done over the years. It just wreaked of crudity. I had come a long way in my articulation of thoughts and ideas since those times of old. As I looked back, they may have even been some of the darkest times of my life. Witnessing everything and everyone I ever cared for fall apart and die was a pain too much for my weak heart to handle. I did what just about anyone would do in that situation. I simply chose to forget, charting a new course for myself. Thus, my primal fear from that morning was quite clear. If I went back to civilization, would I be prepared to face my demons? God knows the civilized world has been in turmoil since the end of World War 3. I put away my portfolio, and had a lengthy discussion with Noemi about my plans. She was reluctant to see me leave on such short notice, but she supported my decision. I then decided to pay my old master one last visit...
1-4: Masutā Sairentowan (Silent Master)
There I was, standing at the base of the most majestic stairway in all of Japan. A stairway surrounded by cherry blossoms, flowing streams of water and every manner of creature known to this glorious country. As I slowly glanced upward, it almost appeared as if they stretched onward into infinity, but I knew better than that. This was not the stairway of legend; merely a stepping block. I began my long ascent to the top. With every passing step, I could feel a thought pass from my mind. A sense of calmness and stillness swept throughout my body. Finally, only one thought process remained. My purpose. To see light where others saw darkness. To seek peace where others sought war. It is not the differences themselves that set us apart; it is our interpretation of those differences. Mankind has written its history in blood in an unending thirst for victory. That victory comes at great cost and is ever fleeting. Status quo. The only way to win is not to play. Just like that, I had reached the apex of the stairway, where I indeed found my old master. He was I.
I quietly entered the temple, picked up an incense stick, and made myself comfortable on the floor. I performed a few light stretches, thereby releasing tension in my arms and neck. I then focused on my breathing; beginning with shallow breaths in and out of my nose. When I felt ready, I closed my eyes, and moved on to deep breathing. I took in a deep breath through my nose, held it for ten seconds, and then released it through my mouth. After some time had passed, I also began to make an "Ohm" sound on my releases. I extended the amount of time I held my breath from 10 seconds to 20 seconds, to 30 seconds, and so on. I slowly lost awareness of my body as I slipped deeper and deeper into a meditative state. Scattered visualizations appeared before me. I simply let them pass. Eventually, I became alone within my mind. All was calm, silent and still. There was darkness, so I made light. An old rustic door appeared at the end of a long and very ancient corridor. I slowly made my way toward it. The door was locked, but I had the key. I opened it, and to my surprise, the following room was completely empty. All was once again dark. That is when it finally hit me. Just like a bucket of ice to the face. This will be the day that I die...
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2: MĀKU (MARK)!
As Chapter 1 comes to a close, I hear the voices say...
Chapter 2: Māku (Mark)
Now with more Mark!
2-1: Janpu Man (Jump Man)
That day would be the one in which I faced not one but two inevitabilities. Returning to civilization to reunite with my former colleagues was no easy task. I left the modern world behind for a reason. Technology had become too ingrained in my every day life. There were microchips in everything, even clothing, food packaging and people. The simple things, such as a day at the zoo, were interrupted by near constant social media notifications from displays linked to said chips. It became especially unnerving in light of world events. One of the best choices I ever made for myself was shutting down Facebook and Twitter. Add to that, the way in which people communicated online was often very different from the real world. It always left me feeling disjointed. Ah, but these thoughts paled in comparison to the other thing I had to face that day. My own death. Not that it would be the fir... "Sir, your ticket!?!" The Tokyo Spaceport attendant called out to me as if she had been trying to get my attention for some time. I handed her my ticket, and boarded the orbit cruiser bound for Indiana.
In no time at all, we were airborne; flying high above Japan. The view from my porthole was certainly magnificent. The countryside, the villages, the cities; all looked so awe inspiring from this angle. Japan slowly faded away into the distance, leaving me with an ever vibrant blue glow. The planet Earth was like a precious jewel. From such a great height as this, it almost appeared untouched. If only I could reach out and hold it in my hands. The pilot soon announced over the intercom, "We are now soaring over California at a cruising altitude of 210 kilometers." I was suddenly overcome with emotion. It too appeared untouched. Fearing I had seen enough, I closed my porthole. I then took a somewhat restless nap until the flight landed in Indiana. It was either that or watch the in-flight movie; Walt Disney Pictures' Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlanta in 3-D. I disembarked the orbit cruiser, stumbled about the terminal a bit like a foreigner from another country, and eventually made my way to the bus stop. This was a fairly typical occurrence when I used to travel. A short bus ride later, I found myself at the address Mark had given me in the letter. To my surprise, the location appeared to be nothing more than a rundown shack next to an old outhouse. I thought to myself, this cannot be right; but then again, Mark always did have a warped sense of humor. A curious passerby said, "Are you looking for plop! Inc.? Turn around." Oh my...
2-2: Māku Futatsu (Mark 2)
plop! Inc. had a marvelous framework. A stunning steel complex rising eleven stories into the sky. The grand entrance plaza had a fountain that made even me jealous. Such peaceful and serene sounds; such colorful and illuminating light effects. I could not tell for certain, but it appeared to be in the shape of C-3PO's head. Mark had apparently done very well for himself over the years. As I entered the building, I was greeted by a face unfamiliar to me. Still, there was something about him that I found strikingly similar to someone I did know. He said with much enthusiasm, "Welcome to plop! Inc. You must be Aratana! Everyone is gathering in the event hall. You should make your way there. Just follow the signs." I began to walk off, but out of sheer curiosity, I turned and said in haste, "Wait, I didn't catch your name!" He said with a smile on his face, "It's Liam!" As I once again stepped away, it dawned on me; I had just spoken to Mark's son!
I quietly entered the event hall, where I took a seat. Glancing about the room, I recognized at least one former colleague from Gridline Games; Micheal. Of what little I still cared to remember from those days, his work had always been an inspiration to the team. A brilliant artist who was often misunderstood by the public abroad. He appeared to be conversing with someone in the aisle, but I could not quite determine who. Fear gripped my very soul, but I eventually sucked it up. I took a deep breath, stood up, and slowly approached them. Micheal had instantly recognized me from afar, remarking exuberantly, "It IS you! You're alive! I haven't heard from you since... How long has it been, anyway?" It had been something like 30 years. The one whom he had been conversing with was none other than Eero, another respected member of the former Gridline Games team. He must have made the longest trip of all to be there. If memory served me correctly, he lived in Estonia. Eero said simply, "I like the beard!"
A mystery announcer spoke from whereabouts unknown, "Please take your seats. The event will begin shortly!" The lights went dim. The room was ever more silent. What on Earth could this be about? Suddenly, Mark burst into the event hall wearing a stormtrooper outfit. More specifically, a First Order shocktrooper outfit as they appeared in Star Wars' sequel trilogy. In all likelihood hoping everyone in the room had already seen Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Mark said, "We all remember how we felt when Han Solo met his demise at the hands of his own son, Ben Solo, but have any of you considered what it would have been like to actually be in that movie?" He paused for a moment before saying, "Today, I introduce to you, for the first time anywhere, plop! Plutonium. An advanced VR device that will forever change the way we interact with virtual worlds. The device connects directly to the user's brain, and therefore creates the most realistic experience imaginable." I was not the only person eyeing the exit at that very moment. Mark had prepared a short video demonstration for the event. It did nothing to ease concerns. In fact, at least one former colleague made his escape. In closing, Mark said with much excitement, "Come, follow me, amazing things await!" Plumes of smoke and beams of light quickly filled the air as the event concluded...
2-3: Burūpiru (Blue Pill)
Mark led his new disciples into a large room packed with computer equipment, but not before discarding his stormtrooper outfit. He said with relief, "Damn, it feels good to be out of that thing. You have no idea what it's like to parade around like that when you're 65." It was an effective performance. Actually, it felt a bit like being back at Gridline Games. At long last, I finally had a chance to say konichiwa to Mark. He turned to me and said, "My God, you look just like your father!" That was certainly not the first thing I expected him to say, but I took it as a compliment. I was among the first to connect to Mark's "magnificent" new machine. There were rows of reclined chairs to accommodate everyone. A suction cup-like device attached to our scalps. It was virtually painless. Not entirely unlike a visit to the dentist. Mark activated the machine, and darkness enshrouded me. Darkness was something I had seen a lot of that day. Somewhere off in the distance, a man emerged and said, "Welcome to plop! Plutonium. I'm Morgan Freeman. Some of you may be wondering; why is Morgan Freeman narrating plop! Plutonium? Has he not been dead for years? Well, with the advent of quantum super processing... processing... processing..." Morgan Freeman vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. Mark said from beyond the simulation, "Sorry about that. We still have a few bugs to work out. Ignore the apple tree that just appeared!"
Mark pre-loaded an environment into the master computer; a four deck space station that, even after all these long years, still gave me warm and fuzzy feelings. It was of course the Ralin V military base from Space Ruckus: The Great Invasion. Mark was a man after my own heart! His team at plop! Inc. must have toiled away on the design after the demise of Gridline Games. The new and improved 3D layout was absolutely incredible. I imagine it would have to be. The human eye can only see so much detail, but the brain has virtually unlimited potential. As Mark explained, this was a shared environment. A bit like a LAN party in the days of old. He encouraged us to find one another. Suddenly feeling a bit mischievous, I decided to make my way to the docking bay, where I "acquired" my favorite spacefaring vessel; the blue-coated G-Flyer. At Gridline Games, we never quite worked out how the flight controls operated within the cockpit, but I managed to maneuver into space with only a few minor scrapes on the hull. In a word, it was surreal. One of the most amazing experiences of my life. Space could certainly be a cold and barren place, but the stars had a certain warmth to them, and the orange glow from Ralin V was a true sight to behold. Micheal, likely sensing I had the same idea, approached from behind in another vessel. He said with glee, "I wonder what this button does?" That button just so happened to fire lasers. Oh, a wise guy, eh? I pulled back on the flight yoke until I was behind Micheal, and released an immobilizer cannon into his backside. I said with glee, "Sayonara!" His vessel was now a flying space toaster.
That was exciting and all, but I wondered what we could do if we really put our heads together. Without the rest of our former colleagues knowing, I, Eero, Mark and Micheal constructed a brilliant game together. We were going back to Gridline Games one last time...
2-4: Pater Ex Machina (Father from the Machine)
The simulated day began just like any other. I hiked into work in an effort to spare concerns about gas money and parking space. It was, after all, very good exercise. I just so happened to make a very early start, meaning I was the first to arrive at the office. I unlocked the main door with my key. I took a brief moment to look over the office. There was something both peaceful and depressing about the silence. All those cold computer terminals. All those unused notebooks. What on God's green Earth were we thinking when we started this whole thing? I tried my best to hold back a tear. I took a deep breath, and slowly made my way up the central stairwell, that which led to my office. With every passing step, I could feel a thought pass from my mind until only one thought process remained. My intent. To leave the dark days of Gridline Games behind, and chart a new course for myself. I approached my office door, on which I had placed a sign that read, "Keep out! I mean it this time!" My office was a mixed bag of ancient Asian decor, modern computer equipment and scented candles. I also had a fantastic battery powered 3D sound generator. Everything from ocean waves to wind chimes. I lit my candles, sat down on a cushion in the center of the room, and began to meditate.
Some time passed, before the lights came on in the office. I turned off the lights and computer equipment in the room, but I was certain I could still feel wireless router transmissions in the air. I returned to the lower level to locate the office's fuse box. Finding it was easy. I had designed this place, after all. Without a second thought, I cut power to the whole building. It was then that I heard a loud sound coming from the boardroom. I peered into the lobby to see four men in alien costumes with canisters of smoke. That day was going to be interesting. I retreated back to my office, where I finally entered deep meditation. Some more time passed, before Mark, alongside my prodigal son, barged in to see me. Came seeking answers, they did. Bill Grig was a nice choice, but knowing Mark, I somehow expected Conrad Sheldon. I used a battery operated fan placed in the air duct system to generate a heavy wind, thereby blowing out the candle light. I then wove a tale about the beginning being the end, and the end being the beginning. I paused for a moment to think. I wondered if Bill Grig truly believed in me. Finally, I "prophesied" the arrival of the aforementioned aliens. Perplexed, they left me alone to continue their epic office journey.
Even more time passed, and the lights again came on in the office. I decided to wait for the impending volcanic situation to pass before I made my way back downstairs again. I would just let everyone else have their fun. I heard several loud sounds coming from the lower level. Some more unsettling than others. They eventually stopped, leaving the office eerily silent. I took a deep breath, and then slowly walked down to the old development center for Space Ruckus: The Great Invasion. The first thing I heard was Mark saying tearfully, "It's a boy!" Bill Grig was lying in a pool of his own blood. Apparently shot to the chest by Micheal. Mark was propping his head up in an attempt to keep him conscious. Bill Grig, obviously in excruciating pain, signed his name on a stack of his own notes. He then looked up to see me standing in the doorway. His body faded away like dust in the wind. It was merely a simulation, but I felt the pain. It tugged at my very heartstrings. So painful that I collapsed to the floor. It felt so real. My heart was racing all too fast, and I could not bring myself to stand again. I began to see shapes in my vision. Mark, very concerned by my reaction, quickly exited the simulation to perform an emergency shutdown of the system. Sweet Lord, the pain was unbearable! Everything went dark. That is when a familiar voice called out to me and said, "Hang in there, Mikey! You must go back to California. It is your destiny that awaits... Boo!" I greatly questioned whether or not that was a part of Mark's program. I was just about ready to succumb to my ailment when I took one last deep breath and awoke back at plop! Inc. Eero said in a panic, "He's gonna pop!" I staggered to the floor, and proceeded to puke. I rested for a few moments. Eero was a trained paramedic. He managed to monitor my heart rate even without the proper equipment. I thanked Mark for his invitation and hospitality, but I had to leave on short notice. When he asked where I was heading, I simply said, "Home..."
TO BE CONCLUDED IN CHAPTER 3: LOS ANGELES (THE ANGELS)!
As Chapter 2 comes to a close, I find myself on a dark desert highway...
Chapter 3: Los Angeles (The Angels)
Now with more heart stopping action!
3-1: Every Rose Has Its Thorn
Life was something else. Every time I thought I had it figured out, it just threw me another curve-ball. Deep down, I knew it was for my own good, but we rarely accept things so easily. When I think back on my decision to move to Japan, I often think of the people I left behind. I just so desperately wished to be away from the conflicts of the world. It was selfish of me, I know. When I met Refael's family and learned of their plans to leave Los Angeles, I saw it as my ticket out. I happily packed my bags, terminated my social networks, and said goodbye to what little family I had left. Gabriel came with me, of course. I swear, that cat would follow me to the ends of the Earth. He was a bit like Sonic in that regard. And then I met Noemi. I used to think love was only true in fairy tales. Funny, I all too often paint the past as dark and depressing, but it was not all bad. I could have done without the heartwrenching deaths and strife within my circle of friends and family, but I was fortunate to have what I had. I could have lived a much harder life. I said to myself, "I have you to thank for that, Dad." I gently placed a rose on my father's grave, and sat beside the nearby tree. Oddly enough, that day would have been his birthday, September 22nd, 2046. Paul was born right there in the county of Los Angeles one-hundred years ago. Boy, did time ever fly. My grandparents from my mother's side rested directly above. Leslie, my grandfather, had died at sixty-three just like my father. I had such a short time to know him. I was nothing more than a toddler at the time of his passing. Yet strangely, I felt I had known him longer. If I could only count the tears I had shed at that cemetery. I tried my best to collect my thoughts, and made my way down the hill. I had a date with destiny.
I came to find myself outside the house of my elder half-brother, Patrick. Deep in my heart, I knew he was the family member to reach out to first, and if anyone could help me through this journey of mine, it would be him. The neighborhood looked like a mess, but it was otherwise just how I remembered. I knocked on the door with much trepidation. At first, there was no answer; but then, the door slowly crept open. Standing before me was my nephew, Matthew. He said in complete shock, "Jesus Christ... Michael!?!" I assured him that I was indeed Michael. Still, I had used the name Aratana for so many long years, I sometimes forgot myself. Matthew, obviously impacted emotionally, went on to say, "I haven't seen you since... since..." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before saying, "Too many tragic memories... So, what brings you here?" I told him that I came to see Patrick. His expression at that very moment was something of dread. I felt as though something was very wrong. Matthew said in despair, "You mean... you don't know?" I deduced quite painfully the next words out of his mouth. He said while trying his best to hold back tears, "Dad... Patrick, he passed away last year." I felt my knees give way. My whole body went numb, and I began to tremble. I was prepared to face my own death that day, but not this; not this. My heart literally skipped a beat. Matthew reached out and said, "Is there anything I can bring you?" I said with a raspy voice, "Water." Matthew quickly ran to the kitchen to fetch me a glass of water. As I began to sip it down, I tried my very best to compose myself. With fear deep inside my troubled soul, I asked Matthew, "What else have I missed?" He turned to me and said uncannily, "You may want to take a trip up to Rose Hills."
Following Matthew's directions, I returned to the cemetery. I stopped briefly to gather more roses. One for each of my fallen relatives. This would be the straw that finally broke my spirit. I just knew it. My heart had not ceased to flutter from the moment I left the house of my brother. I staggered up the hill; tears flowing up into my eyes; my frail, trembling hands struggling to keep a grasp on the roses. I thought to myself, "Could I even muster one more trek up here?" I felt my stomach sink as I laid eyes on the grave of my brother, Patrick. The roses slipped through my numb fingers, and I fell to my knees. God, how could I even find the words. After much thought, I said aloud, "All those wonderful trips to Campland on the Bay, every enchanting Christmas Eve, every single family gathering..." I paused frantically to take a breath before saying, "None would have been the same without your unique and warming sense of humor. I can never repay you in full." I simply sat in silence for a few moments. I took a deep breath, and gently placed a rose on my brother's grave. I reached for the remaining roses, slowly stood up, and fought back the tears until I could fight them no more. I then came to the grave of my cousin. I took a moment to collect myself, and said sincerely, "I know we had our differences. Our family was an opinionated bunch, but at the end of it all, we were family and family is forever. No matter how big the issue, I only ever hoped in my heart for a peaceful resolution." I paused for a second before adding painfully, "Nobody is perfect. I am not afraid to admit I made mistakes of my own; as today has clearly indicated." With much sadness, I gently placed a rose on my cousin's grave. I finished distributing the roses one by one. Each one further weakening my already weak heart. When I had finished, I stared up into the sky, my whole body trembling, and said aloud, "What now?" There was no response, of course. I staggered back down the hill, thinking to myself, "I'll be glad when this day is over..."
3-2: Just Like Every Night Has Its Dawn
With the help of Matthew, I made one last and desperate attempt to reach out to our surviving relatives. If I was indeed going to die that day, it was going to be on my own terms, and I chose to go out with my family by my side. With my dying breath, I would see the union, however temporary, restored to its former glory. I trusted in the powers that be to grant me this one final request. Whether they be minuscule atomic compounds that came out of nowhere, God or as ludicrous as it may sound, myself writing my own life. Whatever truly governed this astoundingly paradoxical universe. As luck would have it, cousins Nick and Haley were in the area for Nick's daughter's wedding in Huntington Beach, cousin Dalton was working in Buena Park, and my brother Steven and sister Kristina still lived nearby. I had not seen any of them since my move to Japan. I was deeply scared, but I was as ready as I ever could be to face the inevitable. I knew just the place for us to meet; Knott's Berry Farm. I could only hope Mrs. Knott's restaurant was still standing after all these years! Matthew agreed to drive to Buena Park, passing the old Movieland Wax Museum and Medieval Times along the way. My heart was racing ever faster. At least a dozen thoughts were running through my head. I wondered what I would say to everyone. How could I ever explain my lack of communication? On the radio, R.E.M.'s It's The End Of The World was playing on Star 98.7, and I felt considerably less than fine. When I glimpsed the entrance to Knott's Berry Farm, my heart just about stopped. Just about.
I had so many warm memories of Knott's Berry Farm. Happier times with Dad, Patrick and the whole family. The delightful scent from the restaurant took me right back. I felt goosebumps as real as anything else I had felt that day. If only I could take a step back in time; if only for a few precious seconds. As we were walking toward the restaurant, I just so happened to spot a row of poles, and said aloud, "Bread and butter!" Matthew gave me a funny look and said, "What does that mean?" I said with a smile, "It means, I have to let go now, but it won't be forever." Somewhat perplexed, Matthew proceeded to window gaze. It appeared as though the amusement park had all but ceased operation, but the restaurant and roadside shops were still going strong. Matthew and I sat down outside and waited for the others to arrive. Dalton and his wife were the first, followed by Nick, his wife and daughter, followed by Haley and her husband, followed by Steven and his wife, and finally by Kristina and her husband. Haley said in shock, "My God, you look just like your father!" I had been getting a lot of that recently. I thanked everyone for coming. It meant the world to me. We entered into the lobby of the restaurant, where a friendly hostess said, "How many in your party?" I briefly considered replying with one more than we actually had. I never quite tired of that joke, but after a real world head count, I said, "Party of thirteen." It was then that I made a special request. It would be my last request. I asked of the hostess, "Can we be seated in the waterfall room? It was my favorite place to eat as a kid!"
There we were, sitting in Mrs. Knott's most majestic dining room. The sound of the waterfall was simply divine, as was the sight of those so near and dear to me. As everyone began to place their orders with the waitress, I felt a sense of calm, peace and warmth I had not felt since the last time I was with Dad. That cold, wintry day at Disneyland. I never told a soul about that day. It was just between Dad and I. Sure, I took notes, but I locked them away at Gridline Games. It was for the best. Kristina nudged my elbow to quickly grab my attention. She passed the biscuit tray over to me, and Nick turned to say, "So, how is life in Japan?" Oh, the tales I could tell! I told the story of how I met Noemi. In a million years, I could never forget that happy day by the lake with the falling cherry blossoms. I was sitting alone on a park bench simply admiring the view when she appeared, as if from nowhere, and sat beside me. I had received a fortune cookie earlier that day which read, "Today will be a very good day. Today you will find your destiny." The fortune was actually printed in Japanese, but I decided to spare my family the translation! Many stories were shared that night. Some even more exciting than my own. As I peered around the table, I realized something truly special. It was not the content of those stories that mattered. It was the family itself. In spite of everything else which had happened that day, this was a moment worth cherishing just as much as any other. I had a smile on my face as big as could be. I turned to face the waterfall, and to my surprise, it appeared to flow upward. In astonishment, I let out a loud chuckle. It was as if time itself were flowing backward. I knew just what had happened, but strangely, I felt no pain. As darkness surrounded me, I thought to myself: Que sera, sera...
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 0: IN A GADDA DA VIDA (IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?)!
As Chapter 3 comes to an abrupt close, I tell all the folks...
"Aratana Hajimari"
Chapter 0: In A Gadda Da Vida (In The Garden of Eden?)
Now with Moore...
0-1: Et Dic-Fabula Cor (The Tell-Tale Heart)
Darkness. Michael was enshrouded in darkness. He found himself unable to move or speak. He was, however, certain that he still existed. A thought that provided him with both comfort and fear. He tried but failed to recall the events of that day. Somewhere, he thought, there must be a clue. He silenced his mind, and recalled a time when he was meditating. A time in which he conjured light when he could not see. With that thought in mind, he did just that. Michael was now illuminating a bright and shining aura. It was then that he could see a cord wrapped around him like a blanket. The silver cord. The anchor between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Michael struggled to free himself. He would come to realize that it had enveloped him from the moment of birth on Earth, and thus, prevented him from fully exploring during deep meditation. He continued to fight with the cord to no avail. Finally, the solution dawned on him. Instead of fighting it, he would just let it be. And just like that, the silver cord freed itself from him. Sometimes, things have the simplest answers. Michael was now free to move, but he still could not see beyond his reach, nor did he have a destination in mind. His memory restored, he centered his thoughts on his family. The ones who had previously departed the Earth. As he did this, he felt himself being tugged backward, as if by force. He found himself back at Knott's Berry Farm, but this was not the Knott's Berry Farm of the present. His parents, Paul and Denise, were sitting on a park bench off in the distance, sharing a romantic kiss. Paul said with wonder, "How do you feel about kids?" Denise replied playfully, "I love them. I want at least one. Maybe two if the first one doesn't get too out of hand." From somewhere beyond, a very unfamiliar voice said, "Does he deserve another chance?" A second voice replied, "He may be a tortured soul, but he has potential." Michael wondered if they were referring to him. As his surroundings began to fade away, he had a feeling that his journey had only just begun.
Michael again felt himself being tugged backward. This time, much more forcefully. He found himself peering downward from the ceiling of a barn. His eyes centered on that which appeared to be hanging from the rafters. A lifeless shell of a young man; no older than sixteen. Horrific as it was, it was about to get worse. His mother, Jean, ran into the barn screaming to high heaven, "MY GOD! HOWARD! NO! NO!!!" A frantic and tearful wreck, she quickly untied him from the rope that he had made his warm embrace, but it was far too late. Howard was dead. She cuddled him in her arms, while staring intently into the air. Jean said in complete distress, "Why, God? He was finally showing signs of great potential!" She paused for a few moments, rocking back and forth, before saying tearfully, "How will I ever break this to Leslie!?!" Suddenly, Michael felt himself not tugged but shoved backward. A tremendous force gave him the perspective of another. One which was both alien and familiar to him. There was light at the end of a tunnel. On the other side, a delivery room with two proud parents; Jean and Leslie Moore. As Leslie held his son in his arms for the first time, he said with much excitement, "Hey, son! Welcome to the world! I would give you a cigar, but you're not old enough!" He then handed him over to Jean, and as she cuddled him in her arms, she said with a smile, "Well, hello there, Howard!" Just as suddenly as before, Michael felt himself shoved, but this time, forward. Howard, now four years of age, was playing catch with Leslie out on their back lawn. It was one of those rare and truly exceptional moments between a father and son. Leslie said with a happy heart, "You're going to be a real ball player one day, son!" That day was almost perfect. Almost. Jean stepped out onto the porch in a frenzy and said, "Leslie! Who is this Allene woman, and why are you writing letters to her?" Jean and Leslie went inside to talk in private, leaving little Howard very confused...
0-2: Magicae Regnum (Magic Kingdom)
Once again, Michael was shoved forward in time. Howard, now twelve years of age, was sitting alone in his room watching a new episode of I Love Lucy when Jean notified him that his father was on the telephone. Marriage had not worked out between Jean and Leslie, and he had since begun a new family with Allene. Feeling noticeably depressed, Howard did his best to hold back his true emotions, and said to his father, "It's good to hear from you, Pop! How is Roger faring with his guinea pigs?" Leslie said with a smile, "They're well, and Denise and Lorilee say hi, too!" Leslie added, "I called to offer you an invitation. We're heading out to Disneyland next week, and we would all be thrilled if you could join us!" Howard had never been to Disneyland, but then again, it had just opened to the public a few months earlier. A week passed by in the blink of an eye, and Howard found himself alongside his father and half-brother and sisters. Leslie paid the 25 cent parking fee, parked the car, and said to his family, "Everyone remember Donald." As they approached the entry plaza, Allene took hold of Lorilee's hand, Leslie took Roger's hand, and Howard took Denise's. Leslie purchased a book of tickets, and dispersed them among his family. Howard was very interested in seeing the horses, cowboys and Indians of Frontierland, but the family agreed to first visit Fantasyland, the happiest kingdom of them all. They made their way through Main Street U.S.A., filled with its splendor and ragtime music. Leslie said with excitement, "Lovin' that rag music! It's almost like taking a step back in time!" A simply magical experience was to be had passing under Sleeping Beauty's Castle. The music is as enchanting as the view. One truly felt as though they were being transported from the realm of real life to that of fantasy. Denise, Howard and Roger together rode Mad Tea Party. A dizzying and certainly disorienting ride. Especially when someone firmly grasps the wheel with persistence in their eyes.
Following a grand tour of Fantasyland's dark rides, the Moore family pressed onward to Tomorrowland. A thought provoking and thrilling look at life in the far-flung future; the year 1986. A future in which a flight to the moon would be an every day occurrence. And of course, the first attraction on their agenda was just that; Rocket to the Moon. Before Disneyland, one could only dream of being a passenger on a most exquisite flight. Let alone be so fortunate to even remotely be involved in their development and testing. As the family stood and watched the control room pre-show, Leslie said with pride, "Such a splendid vision of the future. I feel such honor in being involved with the construction of automotives at Rockwell Spring and Axle Company! One of these days, we may even be building these rockets for real!" The ride vehicle was truly something else. For all intents and purposes, it resembled the inside of a clothes washer. As everyone took their seats, passengers were made aware of two screens before them; one above and one below. The lower screen displayed the Earth below, and the upper screen displayed the moon above. Howard said with delight, "Boy, I've always wondered what it would be like to fly!" An announcer directed their attention to the lower screen. Flames ignited below them, and the rocket lifted quickly from the platform. Soon enough, they were soaring over California, high above the Earth's atmosphere. The announcer then directed everyone's attention to the upper screen. Their target; the moon, surrounded by the eternal blackness of space. A four deck space station swung past, demonstrating firsthand the advancements of human space travel. The moon grew ever closer. The whole Earth, in all its vibrant blue majesty, visible in the lower screen. The rocket reduced its speed, rotated 180 degrees, and prepared to circle around the moon. Using its rocket engines for brakes. Passengers were then treated to a view of the dark side of the moon, illuminated by on-ship flares. As the Earth again came into view, sights were locked back on California, as indicated by a super-imposed crosshair. The moon was soon far behind. The rocket again rotated 180 degrees, and prepared to re-enter the Earth's atmosphere. A whirling sound could be heard as the rocket dropped below the speed of sound. Finally, the rocket returned to the platform, and Walt Disney himself announced, "You have just experienced a flight through space. The flight of the future. It will be the final fulfillment of man's oldest dream. His dream to fly like a bird." Everyone on-board clapped their hands in appreciation. It had certainly been met well by the Moore family.
Before leaving Tomorrowland behind, the Moore's visited two more attractions. They first split into pairs of two and each rode Autopia. A representation of a future in which multiple lane limited-access highways were commonplace. They then entered Circarama. An extraordinary theater complex housing a motion picture years ahead of its time. A 360-degree screen surrounded viewers, and took them on a surreal "Tour of the West." This served as a convenient transition; the Moore's would next visit Frontierland. Howard, more so than anyone, could not wait to visit the wild frontier. The land made popular by Davy Crockett. Howard said with regret, "I wish I had brought my faux bear-skin cap!" The entrance to Frontierland was like that of a fort. Beyond which, one felt as though they had just entered a western. A wondrous place rich with natural beauty, wildlife of every kind, and the early settlements of man. Disneyland did have some peaceful, calming stuff. Howard and Roger were, of course, immediately drawn to The Frontierland Shooting Gallery. The gun pellets were real, but the targets were not. The latter of which was a wise choice on Disney's part. Howard's aim was sharp; almost like a skilled marksman. Leslie said in surprise, "Where did you learn to shoot like that, son?" Howard remained silent, but from beyond the veil, Michael was just itching to say, "7-Eleven." The Moore family briefly visited the Frontierland ranch, home to a variety of farm animals, including chickens, goats, horses, sheep and cows. Howard instantly took a liking to one of the horses. He dreamt of one day owning one himself. He even had a name picked out. Frosty! Denise, however, seemed more attentive to the chickens. She chased them around the ranch until Allene pulled her aside. Finally, the Moore's made their way toward the Frontierland train station for a grand circle tour of The Magic Kingdom. One of only two stops in the park. The other being Main Street U.S.A. While waiting for their train to arrive, Howard and Leslie decided to take a stroll just south of the station. Howard said to his father, "Thank you for this, Pop! You have no idea how much this meant to me!" Leslie said with a great big smile, "No, thank you, son! I've missed spending time with you. We need to do things like this more often!" Just then, Howard caught a glimpse of a robin coming to rest on a nearby tree. He reached out for his father's hand, and said, "I love you, Pop!" A sudden jolt sent Michael forward in time yet again. This time, accompanied by a magnificent white light, sparked perhaps by the rush of emotions...
0-3: Gaudeamus Igitur (Happy Birthday)
Howard, now fifteen years of age, was standing in awe; watching his horse, Frosty, gallop around his mother's cottage at an amazing pace. Frosty was truly a sight to behold. A horse in the peak of his day. Such form; such grace. Frosty was born to run. It would not be long before Howard's mother, Jean, recognized this herself, and suggested entering him in a racing competition. Howard's depression had worsened in recent times, and this was just the pick-me-up that he needed. A few weeks passed by in the blink of an eye, and Howard found himself back in school. He quickly became very focused on his classwork. Perhaps too much so. It too was a coping mechanism for wayward thoughts. Lunch breaks had been his least favorite time, but that day would be different. That was the day that Howard first laid eyes on Lucerne. She had the smile of a goddess, and the way in which her long, flowing blonde hair blew in the wind was simply divine. Howard next admired her beauty in Biology class. For once, he neglected his classwork. Howard became lost in her eyes, and as he did, he felt a strong sensation of butterflies in his stomach. Lucerne's voice was as beautiful as everything else about her. He just had to talk to her. As the day concluded, Howard found Lucerne outside the school, and said, "Hi! My name is Howard. We're in Biology class together!" In a noticeable rush to go home, Lucerne said, "Oh. I think I've seen you around before." Before leaving with her father, Howard hollered out, "I didn't catch your name!" Lucerne said with a cheeky tone, "I didn't throw it... but it's Lucerne!" As Howard headed home himself, he began to daydream about that gorgeous and funny girl. Lucerne! He wondered if that was Latin. It was certainly a beautiful name in any language. A few more weeks passed by in the blink of an eye, and Howard found himself writing a love letter to Lucerne in his mother's study. One which he intended to mail that day. He had taken great care in his choice of words. He was certain that Lucerne would adore his passion and sentiment.
Yet another few weeks passed by in the blink of an eye, and Howard had not heard anything in return from Lucerne. He was beginning to worry. He wondered if the letter could have been lost in the mail. Just as Howard was about to give up hope, Jean walked into his room with a letter addressed to him. It was from Lucerne! Anxiously, Howard opened the letter, and read its contents. It said, "Dear Howard, I don't know what gave you the idea that I liked you, but that's just not so. These loving words of yours do nothing for me, I'm afraid. Men seem to think they can simply sweep women off their feet. This is not a fairy tale, and I am not your princess. Get over yourself, Howard, and don't bother looking for me again at school. Sincerely, Lucerne." Howard was left speechless. His heart was torn a cinder. He simply dropped Lucerne's letter onto the floor, and made his way toward the cottage grounds. Jean, worried about the contents of the letter, asked Howard if everything was alright. He said in an emotionless state, "Everything's fine. I'm just going out to the barn." Once inside the barn, Howard closed the door behind him, and began to weep into a stack of hay. He had not known this level of pain since his father left his mother at the tender age of four. As if he could sense Howard's pain, Frosty gently approached and proceeded to rub against his head. Another sudden jolt sent Michael forward in time. He was beginning to feel like Quantum Leap's Samuel Beckett. More than a month had passed since Howard was devastated by Lucerne's letter. It was now mid-October, and his sixteenth birthday was just a week away. Jean had taken Howard to the Church of Scientology. A relatively new organization built on the dream of a world without strife, where beings can prosper and aspire to greater potential. Jean prayed they could help her son. They conducted several audio guided programs on Howard, bringing to light traumatic experiences of his past, in the hope that he could finally clear them from his mind. Jean likened it to a sort of hypnosis. It instantly reminded Michael of Robert Monroe's Hemi-Sync. Something which he had dabbled with when he first began to meditate. He lied when he said that he had taken up such in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves. In fact, he was desperately trying to prove the existence of life after death. It, however, seemed like a moot point now.
Michael was sent forward in time once more, but this time, he knew it was to be Howard's last. Just three days remained until his sixteenth birthday, and Jean had a surprise for him. She had entered Frosty in a race at their local track. Jean was excited to see him run, but more than anything, she just wanted to see Howard in a happy place again. As they took their seats in the stands, Howard spotted Frosty being lined up at the starting gate. The race announcer came on over the loud speakers and said, "We have a late minute entry. Please welcome Frosty the Palomino! He will be racing as number 23 this morning!" A horn signaled the opening of the race. Just like that, the horses were released from their gates. Each one of them being ridden by skilled horsemen of the Los Angeles/Pomona racing association. Frosty took an early lead. Howard, very excited, leaned forward and hollered, "Go Frosty! Let's run and have some fun!" After the first full lap, Frosty had gained a sizable lead. Everyone in the stands began to cheer for him. They sung a familiar melody, "Look at that Frosty go, running here and there, all around the square, saying catch me if you can!" At that very moment, Howard felt so proud of his horse, and for the first time in a long while, he was in high spirits. Over the loud speakers, the announcer said in surprise, "Hold your horses! It looks like number 42, Zelda, is charging from behind to steal Frosty's thunder!" Zelda surpassed Frosty at the end of the second full lap. Howard felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He stood up and screamed in frustration, "Frosty! You're going to let a girl beat you to the finish? What kind of a name is Zelda, anyway!?!" Frosty had fallen well behind Zelda. All hope seemed lost. Howard sat back down and covered his eyes with his hand. Every passing second felt like an eternity between. As the horses entered the home stretch, the announcer said in shock, "What's this? Frosty is making a last minute comeback! He's blazing straight past Zelda and on to the finish line!" Dust filled the air as the race concluded. Frosty had beaten Zelda, and taken first place. With a bright smile on his face, Howard said, "Way to go, Frosty! I knew you could do it!" Howard ran down to the winner's circle, and gave Frosty a great big hug. As everyone gathered around, Michael felt himself slipping away from the moment. The last happy moment of Howard's life. He committed suicide by hanging three days later on his sixteenth birthday. It would be difficult on everyone, but no more so than on his father, Leslie. He developed Hypomania as a result, and was never quite the same. However, a year before his passing in 1983, he was blessed with the birth of a grandson, Michael! Michael felt himself pushed forward in time like never before. From somewhere beyond, a still unfamiliar voice reiterated what they had said before, "Does he deserve another chance?" A second voice once again replied, "Howard may be a tortured soul, but he has potential." A tremendous force gave Michael the perspective of his unborn self. There was light at the end of a tunnel, but complications prevented him from following that light. His umbilical cord had become wrapped around his neck. Unable to breathe, Michael began to lose consciousness. Outside the womb, a doctor called out in terror, "The baby is in distress! We must perform an emergency C-section!" The strangest sensation one will ever feel is that of their own heart stopping, and Michael experienced this shortly before birth. Strange, but certainly not unique. As the doctors performed an emergency cesarean section, it was as if time itself came to a stop. Michael found himself surrounded in darkness... so he made light...
0-0: Cat's in Cunis (Cat's in the Cradle)
An old rustic door appeared at the end of a long and very ancient corridor. Michael slowly made his way toward it. The door was locked, and he did not have the key. Having no other choice, he proceeded to knock. He had certainly come a long way to see me, so I unlocked the door. Michael gazed into my eyes and mine into his, and he said, "Gabriel? Boy, I screwed up. I'm in cat heaven!" I smiled and said, "Do you still remember the day you found me along the San Gabriel Bikeway?" Michael, in no position to question a talking cat, said with confidence, "Sure I do. You followed me for a good quarter mile before I picked you up." I said, "And your thoughts leading up to finding me?" Following a few moments of soul searching, Michael said, "I was thinking of... of my father. My Earth father. Paul!" I said with a smile, "I sent him. I sent Gabriel. He and I are one and the same." He said with a gleam in his eye, "Dad, is that you?" I said while extending my reach, "Mikey, I'm proud of you. Can you sit for a while?" He shook his head and said with a smile, "Of course! We have all the time in the world now." I graciously invited Mikey into my personal sanctuary. A place I had modeled after some of my favorite Earth environments. Mikey said with surprise, "I recognize this place. The sand. The breeze from the bay. That all too familiar campfire smell. It's Campland on the Bay! I could see it with my eyes closed!" I replied with a happy chuckle, "You know how much I loved that place, but did Campland have a dock that stretched onward into infinity, parks that bore flowers in every season, or a landscape that could be transformed with a single thought?" Just like that, I moved a mountain off in the distance. I said with delight, "There! I like it better where it is now." Mikey said in astonishment, "Do we all possess this power?" I replied with a smile, "Just think back to one of the many dreams you once had on Earth. What impact your subconscious mind had on the dreamscapes. This is the dreamscape now." I paused for a moment before adding, "Of course, not everyone is ready, and there is so much more to see, be and do." Mikey then asked the inevitable and somewhat harrowing question, "Where is everyone else? Where's the rest of our family?" I said with a gentle heart, "They're around. Somewhere. Some of them are more difficult to find than others. Here, locating others requires concentrated thoughts and feelings. It's not as simple as walking into another room. It's not as simple as before. Why, the very ground we're standing on is nothing more than a cobbled together idea. These words, the sounds echoing from my mouth, are merely my thoughts being directed from my mind to yours through transference." Mikey said with tenderness, "I found you easily enough, Dad!" I said with pride, "That you did, Mikey. I think, deep down, you always knew how to find me." I held Mikey close to my thoughts and said, "Come, follow me, I have much more to show you!"
I looked toward the sky with determination in my thoughts, turned to Mikey and said, "You may look down, but never give in to fear. Fear is the feeling that holds us back." Based upon my gesturing alone, Mikey knew just what I had in mind. He looked at me and said with excitement, "Get ready to soar!" I said with a chuckle, "Mikey, this will be more amazing than Disneyland's Soarin' Over California!" I looked back to the sky before adding, "But I am eternally grateful for the thought you gave to that experience." With a single thought, Mikey and I took to the air, soaring high above my personal sanctuary. A gentle wind blew past the two of us. At such a marvelous glance, he could see for himself the parks of my creation in full bloom, and just off in the distance, my astonishing and seemingly impossible dock of infinite proportion. The bay surrounding the dock was bright blue, filled with sail boats and exotic fish of every variety, complete with a white shimmering sparkle when viewed from just the right angle. Mikey turned to me and said with much enthusiasm, "Not Campland, eh? I recognize the blue eaves on the buildings!" Indeed, I had recreated the recreational facilities of Campland on the Bay! I even strung lights abound with great care. A reminder of festive, joyous times spent with family on Earth. Looking ever higher, I said to Mikey, "We are going to leave this place behind for now, but remember, nothing can harm you so long as you have no fear." Mikey spread his arms like a bird, and welcomed the wind to his face and back. He was fully absorbed in the experience. I focused my attention on the darkness above, and prepared to break free from the dreamscape of my creation. A mere bubble universe, a snowglobe if you will, on the tip of the astral plane. Mikey and I passed into the ether. A dense, unending region of innerspace populated in sole by oscillating soundwaves and auras of bright light. Often overpowering to newcomers, they encompass a rich and full color spectrum. Many of which would never be visible to the naked human eye. As I began to focus on our final destination, I said to Mikey, "Stay close to me. It is very easy to lose one another and become lost in this dizzying place. There is a reason why passings generally come in twos or threes." We came to stand at the base of a stairway. The most majestic stairway in all the universe. It may not have looked it, what with its plain white exterior, but it was more than a mere stepping block. It was the stairway of legend. From a certain point of view, it appeared to stretch onward into infinity. Mikey said with a hint of sadness, "Are we really going through with this? I've joked about this very stairway, but never once thought about actually climbing it. It means the end of our story!" I said with the brightest of smiles, "What do you expect to find at the top, Heaven? Perhaps the most beautiful place one will ever visit, but that's not where this stairway leads. No, this stairway leads to The Reception Center. Otherwise known as The Park. It's a place created by a collective of enlightened minds to ease the trauma of those recently departed from physical reality." A question, the question to end all other questions, was on the tip of Mikey's illusory tongue, but he decided that it was best if he did not know. Just for the record, the answer is a real doozy.
Mikey and I began our long ascent to the top of the plain white stairway. In doing so, we spent some time reminiscing about our lives on Earth. Good times shared at Christmas, Campland, Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, anywhere and everywhere. Given the circumstances, they seemed just a tad melodramatic, but a good memory is a good memory, and I was always open to reflection. Mikey, recalling warm Christmas memories, said with tenderness, "Christmas, the happiest time of the year, was always something else. There was just something magical about that season. I remember how much I puked upon editing together Merry Christmas from the Haleys a year after your passing!" I said with the utmost admiration, "I loved every minute of that tribute! It was very thoughtful of you. Very heartwarming. I was left somewhat speechless. All of your tributes were deeply inspiring. They certainly held the remaining family together in times of sorrow. I could only hope that, in some small way, you knew how much I still cared." Mikey said with a smile, "There are just so many wonderful memories to choose from, Dad, but there's one that stood above the rest when I had time alone with my thoughts. I was living away from home at The Diagnostic School for a few months in 1991. By and far my least favorite place to remember. Save for that one day. The day you came, picked me up and took me out to lunch at McDonald's." Mikey, suddenly overcome with emotion, paused for a moment before saying, "My, how I grew to dislike McDonald's in later years, but I'll be damned if I can think of a finer memory! Nothing else mattered that day. If time had stopped, I would have been none the wiser!" I said with tears of joy, "That too is one of my favorite memories, Mikey. Mine too! With or without the profanity!" Our moment of heartfelt reflection almost seemed to last forever, but soon enough, we had reached the apex of the stairway. Mikey took his first glimpse of The Park. A wondrous place with centers for education, life review and even humor. It was very much like a college campus, but the grass was greener than anything on Earth, and there was a certain spark of energy about the air. In my travels, I had made friends with a tracker named Refael. He, like I, had taken it upon himself to help others adjust to their new surroundings. I centered my thoughts on Refael, and just like that, Mikey and I were standing before him. I introduced them to one another, and Refael said, "I know all about Michael. As I am sure he knows about me, even if he cannot recall my face!" Mikey had certainly heard his voice before, but he had the distinct feeling that they had even met before. Refael said with a smile, "Konichiwa, Aratana Hajimari!" He then said with a bright glow about him, "He may be a tortured soul, but he has potential."
Glancing about the various centers, I said to Refael, "There sure are a lot of new arrivals. Earth is a tough place right now. It must be hardest of all on trackers like yourself." Mikey, having heard that word somewhere before, said with hope, "Wait, Refael is a tracker? We can locate the rest of our family with ease!" Refael looked at me with a discerning eye, and said, "Paul, you and I both know that Michael cannot stay. He surely knows this himself if he has been following his visions closely." Mikey said in shock, "You cannot possibly mean reincarnation!" Refael said with a certain persistence, "No. Reanimation. You have only been lying on that restaurant floor for six seconds. If you payed attention to your visions, you found your way here upon your premature death in the womb. You must go back. While you may no longer see it, your silver cord is still connected." I said with sorrow, "I'm sorry, Mikey. I should have said something, but I didn't want to spoil our time together." Mikey said with tenderness, "I understand, Dad. In the back of my mind, I never ceased thought about Noemi and the rest of the family I left behind on Earth. I must do what I must do." With a weakened spirit, I said to Mikey, "Close your eyes, Mike." He did so without hesitation, and I in turn transported the two of us back to my personal dock by the bay. Michael opened his eyes, and while peering outward into the infinity of that dock with the majestic bay surrounding it, caught a brief but spectacular glimpse of a fish out of water. It took to the air like an eagle, and sailed off into the distance. Michael said with a genuine sense of wonder, "Dad, this place of yours is something else. It really is. I wish we had more time." I said with a bright glow, "Que sera, sera, remember? That stolen moment in time we shared at Disneyland in late 2009. There will be more time. We just have to wait." Michael said with joy, "And when I get back, we can track down the rest of our family. Everything will be just like it was before. No, it will be even better!" He paused for a moment before painfully adding, "And we can all visit Heaven together!" I said with a smile, "Mike, there is no need to visit Heaven when we've already been there. Heaven is Earth. It's the place everyone wants to visit. It's far from perfect, but it's the place where dreams are made! And dreams are something truly special. Never stop following them." Michael said while trying to decide whether to laugh or cry, "You always had such a way with words. It looks as though I'm the one leaving you this time. Oh, the irony." I said to Michael with pride, "Every time the wind blows in just the right direction, and you think of me, I'll be there." I then blew gently into Michael's face, and sent him on his way. As he passed into another dimension, he said with passion, "I love you, Dad!" I smiled and said with the brightest of glows, "I love all y'all!" I added with just a hint of sadness, "Bread and butter..."
0-4: XXIII Palmarum (23 Palms)
Michael came to find himself walking through the valley of death. A wretched place as dead as dead can be. Devoid of all natural aroma, color and sound. Michael briefly feared as though his own light would be no match for the darkness which lied in wait, but then he remembered what I had said about fear. He remained strong for his journey. The dark and foreboding path ahead was drenched with mud, but Michael pressed forward as well as he could. As he stepped up and over a pile of fallen palm trees, he heard the painful but deafened crackle of the wood. He stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing something else rattle off in the shadows. He thought, at first, that the sound from the crackle had ricocheted. A thought that was quickly put to rest as Michael glimpsed several bushes swaying back and forth. A voice that he had heard several times before once again reiterated, "Does he deserve another chance?" This time, however, there was no reply. A most hideous four-legged creature emerged from the shadows. It was unlike anything that Michael had ever seen before. It had two metallic tails, a spiked spine that broke and bled through its skin like knives, a coat of fine red fur, and two very menacing, very frightening horns. It stood up on its hind legs, and said in delight, "Howard has come home! What took you so long, my dear? Did you get lost, or did you find another warm embrace?" Michael said in defiance, "My name is Michael, and I am not afraid of you. Whoever, whatever you are." It said with a snarl, "Do not give me such impudent tongue, underling! You know precisely who I am. I am a fallen angel just like yourself, and this is the end of the line!" Michael again said in defiance, "I have known some real jerks in my lifetimes, but you easily take the cake. I feel sorry for you, but while I wish I could help to ease your pain, if you do not let me pass, we will soon see just how this unfolds!" The creature said with a maniacal laugh, "You dare to dance with me? So be it, Howard. I mean, Michael!" It raised its fore legs to the sky, and began to pull pockets of dark energy from every corner of the valley of death. Michael thus readied himself for what was certain to be the greatest battle of his existence. Before he knew what had hit him, the creature charged into him like a bolt of lightning. Michael was down but not out. It stood over him like a beast ready to feed on its prey, and said, "Michael. Yes, that name does sound familiar. How did it feel to have your family torn apart? Despite your pitiful effort, the ones that did not die were determined to hate you! Ah, and the ones who did, they are with me now!" Michael said in disgust, "You are a liar, and not a very good one at that!" Michael rose to his feet, and filled himself with enough light to strike the beast square in the chest. It was just enough to knock it back a few notches.
The creature struck back with a force greater than before. Its blow sent Michael flying into the air, landing him in a pit full of dead brush. The creature once again stood over him, and said, "I will end you. I will shatter what remains of your spirit, and I will end you!" Michael began to laugh rather hysterically, and said, "You know, I bet underneath all that menacing fur lies the heart of a gentle giant!" It snarled like a ferocious beast, pressed its hind leg against Michael's chest, and said, "Insults like that will get you nowhere, imp. Now, no more games!" Michael said while gathering the strength to emit a light greater than before, "You're right. I'm quite tired of games." He rolled back his eyes, focused his remaining energy into a ball, and said, "So long, Lucerne. I mean, Lucifer!" Michael released his light, thereby blinding the creature. He once again rose to his feet, and struck the beast square in the chest. This time, however, the creature was knocked down to the floor. Michael climbed frantically out of the pit. Glancing down the path, he saw a shimmering light before him. As he began to stagger toward it, the creature returned from the depths of the pit. Angered beyond imagination, it picked him up with its fore legs as though he were nothing more than a stick, and began to muster enough dark energy to crush him forever. Michael said without fear, "Get on with it, then. All things must come to an end. Even you." Just before it could release its fatal blow, another being emerged from the shimmering light, and struck the creature down with exceptional precision. Michael lied quietly on the ground until the mysterious being extended his arm with amazing grace. He had long flowing brown hair, a beard as fine as anyone ever had, and a sparkling white robe. This being helped him to his feet, upon which, Michael said in complete shock, "Patrick!?!" The being said with immense kindness and warmth, "Michael, your journey has only just begun. You must return now. Return, and make us all proud!" Michael made his way toward the light. As he peered into it, he could see the rest of his family, waiting for him back on Earth. Michael said with the brightest of smiles, "There's no place like home..."
TO BE CONCLUDED IN THE EVENT OF LIFE BEFORE DEATH!
As Chapter 0 comes to a close, I say goodbye to Dad... until we meet again...
Editor's Note: Dedicated to the everlasting memories of Paul Wayne Haley, Carol Jean Brawl, Jim Haley, Leslie Richard Moore, Howard James Moore*, Allene Frances Moore, Ruby C. Haley, James Kennedy Haley and too many others to count. And to the one and only Robin Williams for inspiring much of Chapter 0. I think I speak for all his fans when I say, I hope the genie is finally free!
Lost Chapter 1 Redux: Life Before Death (Embedded in "source" beginning at line 1350)
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