by James Cage
I ask, “Have you done anything to help Louis and Danny.”
He says, “I gave their names to someone in the Department of Defense. They will become permanent intelligence analysts at the Pentagon. They are completely qualified and have served their government well. They are more valuable serving the United States here in DC, than being in the field.”
“Good,” I say.
The Bear says, “Be careful the watchers are watching us.”
I say, “You’re a controller and you worry about the watchers?”
He says, “It is the evil watchers that concern me. Do you know the difference?”
I answer, “Yes. Years ago, I had recurring dreams. In one specific dream, I would be driving around the city of Guadalajara, Mexico in a taxicab. A Mexican cab driver, who wore a cowboy hat, would pull the taxi over and tell me. ‘I am Saint Michael the Archangel. I have had a very difficult time watching you and keeping you alive. Start taking better care of yourself.”
I explain some more. “The Mexican cab driver is a good watcher. He protected me.”
The Bear says, “What about the bad watchers?”
I say, “When I see them, I walk the other way.”
He says, “Have you had any upsetting dreams lately.”
I answer, “I don’t have too many dreams. The hell dreams have subsided. I die. I go into the Bardo. The demons continually attack me. They stab, cut and beat me. They gouge out my eyes. In the dream, I wake up. Then the demons attack and kill me again.”
“Explain any other dreams,” he asks.
“I have absence of God dreams. I am in a cold, gray place. I am alone. Some souls flick on through. Once in a while, someone I know, who has died passes. They never speak or acknowledge my existence. This place is not evil but there is absence of light.”
I continue, “Another place in hell, are the night scene dreams. These dreams take place in a nightclub. There is hard, heavy, metal music. The sound is a continuing drone. The people here are really evil. When I walk through the place, these souls do not speak to me. They telepathically let me know, I do not belong here, get out. I add, “Some casinos in Las Vegas and Atlantic City have a similar feel to it.”
Then I say, “I have never gone to heaven, so I cannot describe that.”
When we return to the hotel, The Bear goes over the documents with me.
I ask, “Maybe I should FedEx these papers tomorrow morning, directly to Seghar. They should be safe.”
The Bear says, “Do that.”
Late Saturday afternoon, May 21, 2005, I exit the Amtrak train at Metro Park, New Jersey. I am approaching my car in the enclosed, parking lot. The unmarked, white van pulls in front me. That is the last thing I ever see alive. My head bursts open. I wasn’t watching the watchers and they got me.
Chapter 37
The Bardo
I am in the Bardo now. The hell beasts and demons are attacking me. But it is different than in my dreams. This time, I beat the hell out of them. I gouge out their eyes and kill them all. When it starts all over again, I kill them all again.
After a time, I am out of the Bardo. It is judgment time for me. Azrael and Malik are reviewing my life. They give me a choice. I can relive my life again. I can have a full lifetime. I can have a job, wife and children. The only catch is I have to live and die in New Jersey.
I ask, Azrael, “What is the other alternative?”
Azrael says, “You have to spend a few eons in hell to pay for your sins.”
I answer, “I’ll do the time in hell. I’ve already lived in New Jersey.”
Azrael says, “Then go with Malik.”
Malik tells me, “Not to worry. You are not going to the lowest depths of hell with the politicians and corrupt corporate executives, the evil controllers and watchers. You will be with souls as you are.”
I am in hell now. The Fire-Eater in the middle of the road, smiles at me. In the distance I can hear the hard rock, bar music. But I am not going over there.
I sit at a table. I see two guys that I knew when I was a teenager. They died at seventeen years old. I am not sure if they were killed in accidents or by suicide. They look thirty-five years old. Everyone looks thirty-five years old. Someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and it is Pancho Villa. I rode with him in another life.
He says, “Bienvenido Jaime. Long time no see.”
I say, “Good to see you again, Pancho.”
Pancho sits down next to me. Then Pancho says, “Do you have any regrets from your past life?”
I answer, “I would have liked to have spent more time in Paris. Also, I wanted to live until December, 2012. According to the Mayan Calendar, that is the end of an age. I did not make it.”
Pancho says, “You are better off in hell with me.”
“Yes,” I say, “This is where I belong.”
A waitress comes by and brings us food.
Pancho says, “Eat the food. It’s good.”
Some other souls come to the table, sit and eat.
Yes, we all have lunch together.