by John Edward
He was not one to compromise or consider what might exist “in between” this real world and the next—or any alternative to what he could see, hear, taste, or touch with his own human senses. But his experience in the realm of Light on the Other Side had taught him a radical new curriculum: the spiritual and nonsensory. His entire soul was now open to learning lessons and concepts that had never been a part of his life before.
Through the pools of consciousness he saw life on Earth as he had never been capable of seeing when he existed in that realm himself.
As part of the need to communicate the message of hope from the Council of Elders, he now understood that persons like himself had particular roles to play. Guides or angels had served as messengers in past ages. The Bible, world religious texts, history books, hieroglyphics, and even primitive art such as cave paintings all testified to these messengers from beyond the earthly sphere. Now, POTUS clearly understood that he and other historical personages were being called upon in a critical moment in human history to carry down to people words of hope and instruction—and to intervene directly in some cases—to elevate human consciousness and increase awareness of the threat to the earth by the expanding dark matter.
More than that, the Fallen Masters—as chosen messengers—were empowered by the Council to inspire humans to choose the path that would ensure their survival and defeat the powerful forces of darkness.
The Council of Elders had chosen some of the most influential and powerful men and women in history to serve as Fallen Masters. Philosophers, artists, and saints were probably the most powerful of all, and rulers and political leaders, if they had made the right choices during their lifetimes, could also be incredibly effective. The Governor took a very particular interest in who was recruited as a Master, as he had when POTUS had first come to the realm of light from his sojourn on Earth. Not that his arrival had been unexpected; indeed, the leadership of the Council were gifted with sight that was not restricted by boundaries of time or space that included the ability to foresee the arrival of souls such as POTUS. He fit their criteria perfectly.
In this final battle, family members would be dispatched to give aid and comfort to other family members. The cycle of history would turn full circle to counter the energies exerted by the forces of darkness through natural and unnatural means. Falling to Earth, or returning to the plane where they had once known existence themselves, these Masters would break through the invisible barrier that traditionally separated them from men and women. Reentering the dimension they had once departed, the Fallen Masters could communicate with their human counterparts without sound or physical contact—rather by telepathic means, by pure thought waves. The Masters, for their part, experienced the same kind of dislocation that they had when they had died and passed over to the Other Side, in reverse. It taxed their energy and was no simple task.
POTUS was aware that he was being prepared, through his own son, to take on the responsibility of being a Fallen Master and stepping through the portal of time on this mission that would, like those of the other Masters, help equip mankind in its battle against the army of darkness that was powerfully arrayed against it.
It seemed an almost impossible task, yet if even one Fallen Master succeeded, it would make an incredible difference for one human being who could influence countless others. POTUS hoped that he was up to the task, and while he wondered at some of IRA’s training methods, he felt that his strength would sustain him and he would be able to be one of the true Fallen Masters. He felt proud to be an instrument of such good.
Atlanta
Dr. Tyler Michaels had seen it with his own eyes and confirmed it with his companion and sometimes nemesis Rae Loona on the telephone: The invitations from Charlene St. John to be her guest at the Academy Awards ceremony were actually in their hands. As a Best Original Song nominee, Charlene could invite several people to be with her in the audience and backstage—and at the numerous parties to which the A-list types were invited. Yet, though he had seen it with his own eyes, Tyler was having trouble believing it. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to accept. Something was holding him back.…
“What, are you crazy, Mikey?” Rae chided him. “You and me with Charlene, who is one of my all-time faves, though not even in the same ballpark as you-know-who? This is the opportunity of a lifetime!”
“Maybe you should go, then, without me,” he said. A heavy curtain of depression had fallen between him and the rest of the world, and he was almost incapable of action, of making any kind of choice that would be positive for him. He felt the presence of forces “out there” that were pushing him back and down and down and down. From where or to where, he could not tell. He just felt a malevolent presence that was holding him back. He wondered whether he should self-prescribe some kind of medication to whack himself back to reality.
“Creation is a thing of beauty. Look around you: See the good in all things. Understand that the people who are in your life—and those no longer in your life—are there for a purpose that is ultimately positive. The motive of the Creator is the source of all positive energy and all light. It is everywhere, if you will just open your eyes to it.”
The voice came to him even as he was still on the telephone with Rae.
“Hello, hello, Mikey.… Are you still with me? Earth to Mikey! Earth to Mikey!” Rae’s insistent tone pulled him back into the conversation they had been having.
“It was him,” Tyler said.
“Who?”
“My Swedish friend. I heard him. His voice. Inside my head. I can’t seem to get away from him.”
“Well, that’s not a bad thing, is it?” Rae Loona said. “From what you have told me, he has some pretty interesting things to say.”
“Oh, I can’t deny that. But it’s kind of spooky. I’ve never been what you’d call a religious guy.”
“Don’t I know it,” Rae said, then thought better of chiding her friend beyond that. She was getting the picture that Tyler was somehow changing, that he was being called to a different level of understanding, and she didn’t want to stand in the way or discourage him. He was on his own journey now, Go-ing Pla-ces.
Tyler hung up the phone. The philosophical presence was still with him but remained silent for a long time. He sat patiently, something that was different for him; he was always moving, doing something, going from one place to another. Since Karen’s passing, he found himself less and less inclined to be always on the go. He was still impatient and wanted things to happen in his time, but perhaps he was getting better on that front, learning patience in his “old age,” as he liked to put it.
“I want to help you, to guide you. I have been sent for that purpose. It is up to you, however, to want my help, to seek the deeper understanding.”
There, it was back.
Tyler said aloud: “All I want is to see my wife, Karen, to tell her I truly love her. To see my son, Jeremy, and to let him know that I am his father and that I love him.” Tears blurred his vision. “I know I was so wrong in what I did, that I missed the opportunity to have a family. God knows, I am so sorry for my own arrogance and stupidity.”
“That is the key to understanding and to helping others learn and grow. I know that you are confused and uncertain by my presence, by what you ‘hear’ in my voice. But that is so unimportant. Who I am is the least concern. Karen knew me. Your friend Rae will know me. I am a philosopher, but my philosophy doesn’t matter in the least. The message from the ultimate Source, the Creator of all that is good in the universe, is so very simple, for you and for every man and woman: Come unto me. Trust in me and you will find everything you seek.”
“So you are the Swedish philosopher that Karen was all hot about. She tried to tell me. I didn’t listen. Swedenborg. Funny name. But I can accept it now. I am willing to listen. God knows I have blown it up till now.”
“On the contrary. Think of the lives you have saved. You are one point in a vast universe, so insignificant as to be nearly nonexistent,
yet so important that many others depend upon you. It is the way of creation. Each of us has a message and a role to play in the lives of those around us—and those we do not yet know exist.”
Tyler now was silent himself. Not since medical school had he been called upon to absorb so much information.… He hoped he could do it. It was beginning to dawn on him how much was at stake and what he was being asked to do.
“No, you are not crazy. And, yes, you should share with your friend Rae Loona this experience,” the man said. “And you are right, I am the scientist and theosophist your wife Karen told you about, Emanuel Swedenborg. My life among men has ended, but I was sent back to be your guide and to help you accomplish what you need to reclaim those you love and have lost.
“Your task will be to assist the Forces of Light in the best way you can—by turning your knowledge and the goodness of your heart to the ends of good. Will you choose to accept such a mission in a time when you and those closest to you need you the most?”
“But I—” Again, Tyler felt himself tongue-tied, absolutely out of his depth. What could he do—what had he ever done—to advance the cause of right in the world? It was so big, too big for a person like him.… All he had ever done was screw up lives and relationships through his pride and unconcern about others. It wasn’t until he lost Karen and his son that he had realized there was something more to this life than career achievements and material wealth.
“I am afraid it is too late,” he said aloud. But no one heard him.
At the same time, Tyler was now quickly warming up to the idea of paying attention to the Swede-voice, but to some extent, he was still confused. He was getting more than a tad tired of Rae Loona’s endless prodding, and flat-out sick of her relentless John Travolta lovefest. OK, OK, maybe he could see that they were GO-ING PLA-CES, but how was this all fitting together?
OK. He was unwilling to give up entirely feeling blue. He was stuck in it, so what? After all he’d been through …
He kept listening to Charlene St. John’s newest CD and found it consoling.
In his car, heading to meet Rae, he flipped on his iPod, which he’d plugged into his car’s auxiliary outlet.
Atlanta
Late at night, after reading Mama G’s latest posting on Putting It Together—“Now Is the Time to Take Action”—Rae Loona, a longtime subscriber to the seer-astrologer’s e-newsletter and podcast, sent an email to the WIN AN INSTANT READING offer on the website homepage. In her entry she asked Mama G, “What action should I take? Please clue me in.”
Within a few minutes, Rae had received notification that she had won the prize! “Talk about bizarre,” the nurse murmured aloud, staring at her laptop screen. “This is spooky.”
Early the next morning, Mama G replied to Rae: “You will search, and you will find. You are on a quest to find the Key. You are not alone. You know you are go-ing pla-ces!”
Before Rae could reply, the astrologer sent another one-liner in addition: “You’re going to L.A., aren’t you?”
How the heck did Mama G know about Los Angeles? Rae reflected for a moment—breathed in, breathed out—and thoughts about Tyler and fate filled her mind. Feelings of hope filled her heart.
“Yes,” she typed.
“There you will be led to take action. You are at the center of it all. I am going to Los Angeles, too. For the first time in my life!”
“So all this is not a coincidence?” Rae emailed back.
“Is your friend’s contact with the Swedish philosopher a coincidence?”
She decided not to answer Mama G.
But Mama G came back to her, big time: “You are needed in L.A., child. You have a unique destiny awaiting you there. Save the boy. Save the boy.” Rae had no idea what boy was meant by this, but she knew in her heart that if Mama G said a thing, then it must be the truth. She just had to figure it out somehow.
At the airport, less than twenty-four hours later, Rae met Tyler. She had managed to pack her best dress and surprisingly few other items in a single carry-on—to avoid the extra-baggage charge and because she had so little time. The two held their electronic tickets as they joined the line to board the aircraft.
“She said we have a destiny in Los Angeles.”
“Who?
“Mama G. The seer.”
* * *
“You know Mama G?” Tyler had long since realized he should never be surprised by Rae’s revelations to him, but he’d truly had no idea about this. Even he knew about the world’s most famous astrologer, and he had once or twice visited her website himself. A long time ago.
“Sure. I’m a regular. I love all that woo-woo stuff. And Mama is the real thing. I can testify to that.”
“I won’t ask…,” he said simply. Then he turned to her and was completely serious. “My friend Swedenborg came to me again.”
“I didn’t know he was ever not with you, Mikey.”
“Listen, this is important. He didn’t give me any specific instructions about L.A. and what we are supposed to do there. But I have a strong thought—knowledge, really—that the President’s son is there, and somehow, we are supposed to be involved in finding him and saving him.”
“That’s it!” Rae exclaimed. “We’re going there to be a part of it. That’s what Mama G meant when she said, ‘Save the boy.’”
The two compared notes as they sat together in their business class seats. Then they were quiet. Rae closed her eyes to get some rest. Tyler flipped on his iPod and settled in to listen to Charlene St. John’s newest CD. His eyes remained wide open for the entire flight.
So, they were go-ing pla-ces … maybe. But it occurred to the doctor that they were going to one place where they were supposed to be. Perhaps there he would learn how this was all fitting together. It didn’t matter anymore what he wanted, or what he thought he wanted. He was being led by his spirit guide, the amazing Swedenborg, and he finally decided not to fight it anymore. To go, to do what he was asked to do, to be who he was supposed to be.
En route to Los Angeles
Also en route to L.A., but on a different airliner, Patricia Rose Greenidge was beginning to see what lay ahead. Often she had visions, sometimes scattered and unconnected, but of late she was seeing things that were all of a piece: from her encounter with the Council of Elders, which still blew her mind when she thought about it, to her contacts with Rae Loona and Dave Hampton. She had even sent and received messages to Dawson Rask and that FBI agent who was searching for the President’s son—and who had the deepest and most accurate insight of anyone else on the planet as to what was happening globally.
Putting it all together … now she knew exactly what was happening and why this particular group of people was converging on L.A.
This was the time when the Army of Light, the forces of the Council itself, would reveal itself in a battle against the darkness. It was all coming down to this. And she would be in the middle of it, or present to see it unfold. She was called, just like the others, to be present on the battlefield for the confrontation.
Mama G, along with the whole world, would be there to see it happen.
* * *
Mama G saw the Governor sitting across from her, as clearly as if he were also a passenger on the flight. But, instead, she was back in the Council chambers. Her ears were filled with music, her heart with love, and her mind with foreboding. It was like nothing she had ever heard, and yet at the same time the most natural sound in the world. Could it be nothing less than the music of the spheres? Harmonies that set the planets in motion?
Now, with so much gratitude and a loss of fear, she heard the music—whole, eternal, suspended in air. She heard the harmonies that would never be lost as long as she was open to being this in tune with everything around her.
“The signs in the heavens are all converging,” she said to the Governor. “That is why I am traveling to the States.”
“The time is now. All God’s children have their tasks,” he said. He really wasn�
�t talking. It was as if his eyes, glinting in the light, were telling Mama G to keep on keeping on. A powerful message.
She responded with a smile. Mere words were of lesser value at this moment.
Mama G had her theme for tonight’s website post, which would be done remotely—from L.A. She was grateful to the Council for revealing the truth to her. She felt privileged and in awe of the power of Light in a world threatened by darkness. She had her marching orders. For sure.
Mama G closed her eyes and started to pray. And suddenly, as if words were now becoming pictures, Mama G saw the number 1 slide across her closed eyes, followed by 512. She sat very still, hoping, for once, her vision was clear as crystal. She heard the word “Jesse” being said as if over a loudspeaker in an airport. Suddenly, Mama G saw herself in an airport terminal, in front of a departures board showing flights. Brightly lit was flight 1512 from L.A. to Marcus via Jesse Airlines.
Mama G was skilled at sorting out symbols, and these were child’s play: 1512 had to be an address, and Jesse probably meant the street. She knew that time was of the essence and for once she was happy that she lived in a time of technology. She pulled out her cell phone and accepted the disastrous charges to make some phone calls. She prayed that she would be in time.…
CHAPTER
91
This was all too ridiculous. Maybe it was nothing but his overactive brain coming up with the next storyline for Matt Matthews. Are writers sometimes forced to live in the very worlds they create?
Who needs his help? A dead writer? Why him? Why now?
“Because we have come to now,” C. S. Lewis said.
Dawson looked up from the notes he was taking, not at all shocked to see C. S. Lewis standing right there in the hotel room with him. No longer in a World War I uniform, Lewis was wearing a tweed jacket and a dark blue tie that was somewhat askew. He had a high forehead and dark, very penetrating eyes.