The Resurrectionist

by Michael Gesellchen

  “That’s insane! You Outsiders are some backwards thinking nut jobs!” I shouted at Corey.

  “I was brought up in this life so you better have some respect for my family’s religious beliefs,” he lashed back.

  “Religious beliefs! You’re a frickin’ wack job if you think what you are doing is religious. It’s crap! You people come to our town thinking that you can gain special powers or favors because you practice witchcraft. Why don’t you freaks just get the hell out!”

  “That’s the problem with you Puritan puke's, you think you're so damn righteous that you can look down on others who have beliefs that are different from yours. We aren’t devil worshipers. We don’t want to hurt people. We believe in doing what is best for ourselves. We have ultimate freedom from the burdens of religious dogma. You’re just too blind to see that your beliefs are the very chains that keep you in bondage.” Corey said.

  "Puritan? You're sadly mistaken if you think I belong to them. I want nothing to do with their side or yours." I laughed.

  "Then you're a coward. Afraid to take a side and make a stand, spineless. Someday you're gonna have to grow a pair and make a choice. You can't hide behind indifference forever, man." Corey scoffed.

  "If I was forced to choose, I sure as hell wouldn't take up your cause." I said.

  Why would I choose to worship a murder?" Corey asked. I cocked my head to the side and didn't respond. “Really, you don’t get it? Murder, blood sacrifice, your God sent his so-called only son to be tortured and murdered. That sounds more like the work of the devil than a loving God. Tell me, what sense does that make? What kind of God does that? What kind of God doesn’t even have the integrity to follow his own commandments. Thou shalt not kill. What a bunch of crap! He doesn’t bother following the rules, why should any of us? Truth is, your God is a murderer!” Corey said.

  Corey's cold stare fueled rage that struck me with violent force. “He died for you, wise ass! He died for all of us so that we may be forgiven.”

  Corey shook his head. “Go ahead, keep telling yourself that. Keep filling your head with delusions.”

  I threw my hands up and looked back at Allison. “Are you coming or are you staying with this freak?” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. I left, furious.

  To be honest, I don’t know where it came from. It was completely out of character for me to lash out so violently. I guess the alcohol was to blame this time. I wasn’t a religious fanatic like Allison’s father. I believed in God but considered myself open minded and tolerant of other’s views. Not this time.

  I was too buzzed to drive and went upstairs to look for Randy but the only thing I found was the couch. I awoke around 5:30 a.m. The metamorphosis had already begun and I was in the terminal stage. Unlike the heroic caterpillar, my beautiful buzz had transformed itself into an ugly hangover. I was ashamed for how things went down between Corey and I. I mostly felt embarrassed for acting crazy in front of Allison.

  I got up off the couch and almost tripped on one of my football buddies who passed out on the floor, his impressive wizard stick resting next to him. At least I wouldn’t be the only one feeling the repercussions of the previous night. I stumbled into the bathroom and flipped the lights on, looking for the pisser. It wasn't the bathroom I stumbled into. Allison and Corey were sitting on the edge of a bed, their lips locked together. My stomach dropped to the floor. The odd couple quickly split apart but the damage had been done. I ran, this time finding the bathroom and throwing up a putrid combination of bad booze and heartbreak.

  Randy, who was asleep in the next room, heard the vile sounds coming through the wall. “Hey Will, let’s go home.”

  “Unbelievable,” I said. “How could she make out with Corey after all that had happened. Forget the fact that he’s an insane Outsider! He’s just a plain douche bag!"

  “It's just crazy,” Randy said. “I can’t believe it either.”

  “I just feel sick about it, unbelievable!” I growled and punched the dash of Randy’s car.

  "Maybe she was just drunk and didn’t know what she was doing,” Randy counseled.

  “I hope you are right. That damn image will be burned in my mind forever."

  Maybe I deserved this. I wasn’t the easiest person to know. I was never honest with Allison. Never shared my true feelings with her. I avoided her, pushed her away if she tried to get close. Not because I wanted to, I just felt dumb, unworthy of her affection. If I couldn’t open up to Allison, then who? There wasn’t a person on the planet that could complete the impossible task of getting me to open up. I could never become vulnerable enough to let someone see my inner self.

  I spent the rest of the weekend watching Allison and Corey make out. The awful scene playing on a continual loop in my mind until Monday morning. Why couldn't I tell Alison that I had feelings for her instead of playing it cool? While brushing my teeth I had a revelation to tell Allison the truth. Nothing would stop me. Today was the day I would give her my heart.

  My stomach had twisted itself into a pretzel by the time I pulled into the school parking lot. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my heart, holding the silver charm in my palm. My body shook and released a painful breath of failure. I was a coward, controlled by fear. I needed to make some last minute revisions to my revelation. The new script was to follow the old script, avoid Allison. The fear of revealing my true self was overbearing. We didn’t have any classes together so I figured it would be easy. We normally passed each other between third and fourth period, often exchanging smiles. This time was different. I don’t know if she passed me or not. My eyes stayed glued to the ground.

  Chapter 7

  “Honey, I’m home!” Justin yelled as we entered Gateway. It was quiet. Corbin was sitting at his computer lost in his research. He didn’t notice Justin and I walk past.

  “Hey! What’s up!” Justin said, slapping Corbin’s back, causing him to jump 3 feet in the air.

  “Damn it Justin! You scared the piss out of me. You know it is not wise to startle me like that. I’m bound to have a heart attack if I keep working with you.”

  “You’re bound to have a heart attack if you don’t lay off the colonel's secret recipe.” Justin said. An insatiable impulse to blurt out a smart-ass comment came over me. It took an iron will to quell the urge. I didn’t know if Corbin would find the humor in it. He was nearly twice my size and only a few meetings had already implanted a fear of getting on his bad side.

  I sat on a couch in the middle of the room. A book with a worn cover was resting next to me. “A Treatise on Purgatory, by St. Catherine of Genoa. You couldn’t have a copy of Men’s Health or Sports Illustrated huh? It had to be something odd. I guess it fits.” I said. Justin had promised to fill me in on why I was recruited to Gateway. “Why me? I need an explanation. You guys owe me at least that much.”

  “Monika's in the soundproof chamber as we speak.” Corbin pointed to a door marked occupied. “She's attempting to gather more info for us.”

  “Um ok, I'm lost, what info?"

  “Corbin’s not big on words. He’s a tech guy.” Justin said.

  “Ok, then you explain. Please.” I said.

  “As you know, Monika is a gifted spiritual medium. She communicates with spirits who have contacted us, to find out why they need our help. In fact we all have gifts,” Justin said. “Corbin has an expansive intellect and technical skills. He can also read minds, to a certain degree. His skills are still evolving.” I guess that’s why he always seemed to know what I was thinking before I did. "I met him at a ghost hunting convention if you can believe that. Monika saw our ad on Craigslist for a psychic and contacted us six months later."

  "What's your super power, Justin?" I joked.

  “I have skills man, leadership abilities, and of course my amazing sense of humor.” Justin smiled and Corbin let out a sarcastic chuckle.

  I stood up from the couch. “No, I don’t want any part of this. Trust me. I’ve seen what all of this paranorm
al stuff leads too. I was skeptical at first, but I was at this party, Allison Channing and Corey Fritz were there. They got me to try the Ouija board. Once is enough. I think you guys should leave this stuff alone.”

  Justin laughed. “Will, you’re so naive. That’s what I love about you. Corey Fritz, really? I can’t believe you fell for it. It’s a trick you know. Smoke and mirrors. His family's been doing it for years. How do you think they make a living? They have to drum up business somehow.” My body tightened at being the butt of Justin’s laughter. “Lighten up Will, you got tricked. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Well, why am I here? You haven't exactly been clear about your intentions for me, about my so called gifts.” Justin paused and I could see Corbin peering at me from behind his computer.

  “William,” Justin waited, looking me square in the eye. “You’re going to break them out.”

  “Break who out? What does that mean? You talk like someone is trapped but I have no idea who.”

  “You're a Resurrectionist. It’s the reason you were brought here.” Justin stared at me in silence. I returned it tenfold. The Ouija board at the Lodge. The voice said they wanted the Resurrectionist. They wanted me.

  “We can communicate with spirits, investigate as to why they are stuck here, but we can not mend their souls. We can't break them free and send them home.”

  Corbin turned to face me. “Think the opposite of an Exorcist.”

  “You send demons to heaven?” I said.

  “Something like that.” Justin smiled. "Don’t worry Will. You just need some time and proper training.”

  “I don’t know if I want any part of your secret club Justin, I mean a Resurrectionist, what the hell?” I asked.

  “Funny you mention hell. Sit down Will, I'll explain it to you.” I sat back down on the edge of the couch. “We are working to assist souls who are in darkness, to escape from their hell. We work on a case by case basis. We believe our referrals, if you will, are divinely inspired. The problem is we don’t fully know how to help them. You were recruited for your spiritual vibration. There is an invisible force that drives all to seek spiritual energy. When the energy is concentrated it vibrates at a high level. In you, this energy is on steroids. It's off the charts.”

  “I still don’t understand why this is going to help save lost souls,” I said. “Plus, the preachers in town spout off every Sunday that hell is eternal, there's no escape.”

  “When you search you will find the answer.” Corbin's voice was soft.

  “How do I search?”

  “We have been studying biblical, mystical, and ancient texts for quite some time in search of answers, but something is missing,” Justin said. “At best we can grasp an intellectual conception of the search for God, or the supreme, or whatever you want to call it, but we haven't been able to turn this conception into a reality. Throughout history mystics and seekers have attempted to describe the search in stages: spiritual awakening, purification, enlightenment, a second death, and unity, but they have always been incomplete. William, you're the key to finding what's missing."

  I didn’t respond. Questions flooded my mind. Where do I even start to begin? “You have already begun.” Corbin said.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot that you can read my mind. Great.”

  “Consider this your awakening, Will.” A spark ignited deep within me, like a match being rubbed against the striker. Even though I didn’t understand, I knew they were right.

  “Take a deep breath and close your eyes,” Justin instructed. “Take a minute to examine yourself, you will find your answer." I followed Justin’s lead. I saw myself as a small child sitting in a classroom. Toys of all shapes and sizes surrounded me. Children were grouped together in the middle of the room. They were bickering over whose turn it was to play with the most popular toy. I was drawn towards a different toy. One that was humble and worn. It had been tucked away on a shelf behind a box of books that nobody read. There was nothing fancy or high tech about it. It was a simple wooden shoe with broken laces. A surge of compassion mixed with mild sorrow filled my heart as it broke in sympathy for the old worn shoe. Ignored and forgotten, no children wanted to play with it.

  I took the shoe off the shelf. We went alone, just the shoe and I, to a corner away from the arguing children. I watched myself tie its laces and whisper soft words of comfort. The shoe came to life, finding hope in my kindness. I held onto her, reminding her she was no longer alone, no longer forgotten. Time held no meaning to us, like a broken clock, stopped and disappeared. The teacher walked towards us. “Playtime is over.” I heard her say. I placed the shoe back on her shelf. A tear escaped my eye, a peace like none other passed through me.

  “Will, William,” Justin called to me. His voice faint and far. “You dreaming about women or food?”

  I jolted upright, fully alert. “Oh man, sorry. I got caught up in an old memory back when I was just a kid. It was weird.” I brushed off the vision. I needed to hide my gentle nature, a need born from fear. Justin wouldn’t understand what the memory meant to me.

  “Resurrectionists come around once every century or two. If we're lucky. A person needs the correct combination of genetics, brain wiring, personality, and intellect in order to have a remote chance of developing into a Resurrectionist.” Justin said.

  “What does a Resurrectionist do?” The air in the room was tense and still. "You still haven’t answered that question."

  Justin paused, taking in a slow breath before speaking. “Resurrectionists enter the darkest planes, hovels, and holes. They're guides, beacons of light in the darkness. Will, Resurrectionists go to hell.” I stared at him, not saying a word.

  “Take a deep breath Will.” Corbin said.

  “Why would I want to go to hell? Does hell even exist?”

  “Hell is very real and there are many prisoners there. It exists in a dimension separate from ours but I assure you it is very real. A Resurrectionist's job is to get them out. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil.” Justin paused. “Are you familiar?”

  “I hear it least once a week when the preachers roll into town,” I said.

  “That psalm was written by a Resurrectionist.”

  “How are you feeling Will?” Justin asked. “Are you ok?”

  I looked around the room. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. How would a Resurrectionist even enter hell? You said it existed in a dimension separate from ours.”

  Justin rubbed his chin. “Technology has come a long way in aiding us in our fight to rescue souls from hell. Corbin, being the super genius he is has developed a tool. We call it Gateway.”

  “I thought Gateway was the name of your group.” I said.

  “It is, it's both a name and a device,” Justin said.

  “What does it do?”

  Corbin looked up from his computer screen. “It’s a device that taps into your brain, much like an EEG machine. The machine sends low level electrical currents into your brain. These electrical currents temporarily alter brain chemistry and allow the subject to lose consciousness and also be awake at the same time. In this state it's much easier for the subject to step outside of their body.”

  “You must be joking.” I said.

  “It's true,” Justin said. “It’s no different than deep meditation. Monks have been doing it for centuries. The problem is that it can take a lifetime of practice to master the technique. Gateway can master it in a matter of seconds.”

  “There are many dimensions in the universe. Far too many to name and number. These dimensions are separate realities but are also all interconnected. There are portals to all dimensions. It's not easy to enter them but there are techniques for doing so. It is a matter of altering your state of consciousness.” Justin said.

  “I've heard of that. The one shop owner in town who isn’t totally nuts calls it astral projection.” I said.

  "No, the astral plane is interconnected with the earth plane, a thin
veil separates the two. Hell exists in a totally separate dimension with very few portals connecting it. Many people can leave their bodies and travel around the astral plane. It's another matter to go beyond the astral and into a godless realm. Fortunately, hell's not far from Earth. To travel successfully a person must have a certain brain chemistry that allows them to move through the portal. That's where you come in.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “Because of your psychological disorders.” Justin said.

  “What?” My face flushed intensely.

  “You don’t have to hide it Will, I know.”

  Having my soul exposed hit like a sledgehammer to the chest. “Thanks Walter Cronkite, go ahead and broadcast it to the world."

  “On a temporary basis, Will, you have experiences that correspond with certain levels of hell, anxiety and fear.”

  “So you’re saying I belong in hell!”

  “Hell exists where love and faith do not.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Hell exists because people chose to turn away from love. Free will is held with the highest regard. Nobody is forced to partake in the gift of love. It's a personal choice. But where love is missing, anxiety and fear rule. That's hell, or at least a form of it.” Justin said.

  “This is all just a little too fanciful for me. I appreciate everyone’s efforts but I think I'll pass.” I turned to walk out.

  “Will, stop! You walk out now you'll regret it. You have been given a miracle. You'll hate yourself for not seizing it.” Justin said.

  “Damnit! What do you know? Why does it have to be me? Why can’t you go and save these people? It’s obvious you're more passionate than me!"

  “Will! Relax, come back.” Justin yelled as I climbed the stairs leading out of the basement. I stopped and turned towards him.