"Welcome home, son."
"OhmyGod," whispered Gabe.
"Been a long time, boy." The man before him was the father he remembered from childhood, a man whose features hadn't been weathered down by living yet.
"Father? Is that really you?"
"Still unsure of yerself, boy, even dead? And you the church goer."
"Dead?" said Gabe.
He started trembling as his father's voice faded. Where were the Pearly Gates? Could this be Hell? Gabe straightened up in the chair, shifting his gaze towards his father.
He rubbed his worn, faithful cross out of habit while looking around the house. "This looks like the farm I grew up on. It's not exactly my idea of Heaven. Where are we?"
His father's eyes narrowed as he looked back at his son. "I don't seem to remember God askin' yer opinion."
Before his father could say anymore, a wave of emotions overwhelmed Gabe. He rose from his chair and moved to embrace his father but his father's eyes darkened, and the man stepped back.
"You haven't changed. We're dead and you haven't changed," said Gabe.
An easy grin appeared on the older man's face. "How 'bout a cup of coffee?" his father said, turning towards the stove. "Nothin' like a good cup of coffee on a fine spring mornin'. At least that's one thing we can agree on."
Gabe watched as his father walked over to the stove and poured two cups of black coffee from an ancient blue coffee pot. Handing a cup to his son, Gabe's father said, "To answer where we are, we're in the afterlife."
"But this is not what I expected. Scripture clearly shows-"
His father slammed down his coffee cup on the table and moved to within inches of his son's face. "Don't quote me scripture, boy."
Gabe glanced down, avoiding his father's penetrating eyes.
"I had a lifetime of learnin' scripture for yer mother's sake and what did it get me? Nothin'! It didn't bring in the crops. It didn't put clothes on yer back, and it sure didn't save yer mother's life, did it?" He picked up his cup and took a sip, his smoldering eyes still locked on his son. "And what about Sarah? It didn't do her no good either."
Gabe's head snapped up with a jerk, his eyes widening. The slow burn in his father's eyes couldn't match the bonfire in his. "How dare you bring Sarah up. She loved me more than you ever did or showed. You have no right to talk about her!"
He father's eyes softened slightly. "You always found the courage to fight back when you cared about something. I can see there'll be no right time to tell ya this, Gabe. Yer mother couldn't accept the truth but you might."
"You were so obsessed over yer damn religion after Sarah died that you never considered other possibilities. What gives you or anyone else a direct line to universal truth? A book? A book written by men for men. How many changes has it gone through? How many alterations have men made to match their own views? And that's only yer Christianity. You've ignored thousands of other religions based upon the same flimsy evidence; books written by man to control man." He finished the last of his coffee and walked over to the open window.
His father turned to face him and sat against the window ledge. "The only thing yer Christianity was right about was life after death. The only problem is, there ain't no Christian god and there ain't no Jesus. You see, this is the only afterlife, the universal afterlife. All forms of life throughout the universe exist here." As he spoke, light from the early morning spilled through the window surrounding the older man with a soft, golden halo.
"If this is some kind of joke "
His father's eyes darkened. "Boy, when have I ever joked?"
Gabe stared defiantly back. "It doesn't matter if He has other Children in other shapes, we're all His children. If we're dead, then God exists by the fact we're alive again through his perfection and grace." Gabe expected his father's rage to crash upon him like the fall of night, inevitable and absolute.
His father only smiled. "Yer on the right track, boy, but ya got a long way to go yet. Perfect God, perfect book, huh? II Samuel 24:1-2 and I Chronicles 21:1-2 might change yer mind about that. But yer close, real close. I think it's time for a little journey. Now."
Between one thought and the next, Gabe's world changed.
A cool, gentle breeze had drifted through the farm window a moment ago; now a hot, arid wind caressed Gabe's body as he stood at the outskirts of an ancient city, sand shifting uneasily under his feet while the desert sun beat down upon his head.
"Where are we?"
"Where the truth begins," Gabe's father replied.
"What truth?"
"Christianity, boy, what else?"
Gabe became a shadow, a passive observer alongside another, his Saviour, living Christ's life with him.
He was a young boy, growing and exploring as boys do. The years quickly melted away while unrest grew in the young man. His fellow man was too cruel, too unjust. Jesus began preaching love and tolerance, an unheard of concept at the time. Surviving was too difficult for such thoughts in the desert, yet he persevered. Ultimately, he paid for his beliefs with his life but not before touching many other lives with his ideas. Knowledge backed by truth is far stronger and more powerful than swords.
Gabe snapped back to the farm house with a jolt that rocked him on his feet. Everything was exactly as they'd left it, but for Gabe, thirty-three years had passed in an instant.
"He was a man," Gabe's father said, "flesh and blood like us. The only difference was that his words and deeds lived long after he was gone. I wanted you to see how he actually lived and died so you'd know the truth."
"The truth? What the hell do you know about truth? I'm not sure I know what the truth is anymore. What's next-turning Sarah's love and memory against me? Thoughts of being with her again were the only thing that kept me sane."
His father smiled again. "Yer ready for the last step."
Gabe's universe changed again.
In the beginning there was darkness, a darkness so absolute that neither time nor space existed. A critical potential was reached on the outside and the inside unfolded.
At 10-43 seconds, gravity separated from the other three forces: electromagnetic, strong nuclear, and weak interaction.
At 10-10 seconds, electromagnetic and weak interaction separated.
At 10-6 seconds, quarks combined to form particles.
At three minutes, light nuclei started forming.
700,000 years passed before true complex atoms formed.
Hundreds of millions of years later gaseous clouds of hydrogen and helium began to condense into proto-galaxies and stars. Another billion years passed before rudimentary life appeared.
Life blossomed and evolved over the next one hundred billion years. Civilizations rose and fell by the millions as some destroyed each other or themselves while others fell to natural disasters. Wherever it was found, life clung to existence with stubborn persistence.
But the end was near as the universe started its slow collapse. Beings all over the universe strove to avoid the heat death. Sentience struggled to find answers to questions that have plagued intelligent life throughout the ages. In the end they created their own answers.
Emulated life guided the universal collapse in one direction, cheated the heat death, and the Omega Point was reached.
"My God," Gabe whispered.
"No, our God," said Gabe's father.
"I don't understand."
"Dammit boy, open yer eyes! You needed answers and you were given answers. Yer body died billions of years ago. Man and other life continually looked for their gods but failed. The Omega Point or god or whatever you want to call it was created."
All the blood ran out of Gabe's face. "That can't be. I'm alive again, we're alive because we have immortal souls. We must " Gabe sat down heavily. He gazed off aimlessly, his eyes unfocused.
"We are now immortal but not because we have souls. There is only one criteria that defines a man, a being; experience. Experience is the tool by which a man's soul is forged.
/> "The Omega Point encompasses all, the entire universe. It permeates everything and is everything. It was created by sentient beings and continually evolved until all life both past and present exists within it now. We are both sustained and protected from the universal heat death by it but not physically.
"We are emulated Turning subsets of the Omega Point."
Gabe closed his eyes as a slow sigh escaped between his lips. "Are you trying to tell me I'm a computer program within some giant computer god?" He shuddered slightly. Oh Sarah.
"That's too simplistic, boy," his father replied. "The substrate upon which life exists and continues is unimportant. Physical existence or emulated, it doesn't matter. The Omega Point is the pinnacle of life's continued struggle to survive. We exist now because the Omega Point was reached before the final collapse of the universe but paradoxically it was the very collapse which allows us to survive. And not only survive, but experience infinite personal time in finite objective time.
"Life can not survive in any other form within the collapse. Emulation is an exact reproduction. Once you emulate something, the difference between the emulation and the actual object becomes meaningless. The emulation is the object. Because we exist as emulations, we can not die again and we can forever experience and grow."
Gabe's father moved around the chair to stand in front of his son. Gabe's head was still lowered and eyes closed, his fingers rubbing at the small, worn cross. "The choice is yours Gabriel. You've seen the truth. Now you must choose between truth or what you believe is true.
"Sarah's already made her choice."
Gabe's eyes snapped open. He stared up at his father as tears welled up. A drop escaped and rolled slowly down his cheek.
"Sarah," Gabe said in a ragged whisper. The silver cross dropped to the wooden floor with small, bouncing clicks. His breathing came in tattered spurts. Sarah?
There was only one choice to make.
The tsunami broke.
The door at the far end of the room began to open as both men turned to look. Bright gold light streamed out from around the frame. Gabe couldn't make out the figure in the doorway walking towards him but he knew who it was, who it must be.
A light breeze brushed across his face bringing memories of a lazy, cool autumn afternoon of days long past. His heart beat fiercely in his chest. A beat strong with the prospect of a long journey ending, or maybe just beginning.
Slowly, he could make out a familiar smile surrounded by soft, cascading, auburn hair. It was the smile of old promises kept and those yet to come.
Twenty-four Hour Lifetime
by Jeff Baker
Consciousness returned slowly as I struggled with losing her. Please, not again, not again
Why can I find love only in a dream? Twenty-seven years of loneliness and I'm taunted even in sleep by a woman perfect for me yet unobtainable. Everything I wanted physically in a woman, who desires me as well, but she's only a figment of my cruel imagination. The woman of my dreams, what was her name Jules?
It doesn't matter. The faster I can forget this dream, the better. It only twists the knife of longing deeper.
Wait, what's that smell? It wasn't there a moment ago but God it smells great! Eyes still closed, I breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of a woman. It's that fresh smell unlike any other that distinctly identifies some women. It's the light smell you sometimes encounter in an elevator after a particularly attractive woman has just left. Guess I'm not awake after all.
Resisting the approaching day, I opened my eyes. I turned head to discover a goddess lying next to me, propped up on one elbow, looking into my eyes. Long fiery red hair surrounded a face to die or kill for. Penetrating green eyes looked squarely into mine with a hint of moisture. She looked familiar. Was it the face from my dreams?
There is no "perfect" woman or man but each of us has an ideal of the opposite sex who is perfect for us physically, mentally, and emotionally. Others may have a different opinion but for me she was my perfect woman physically.
A tear slowly ran down her face. "Danny, I'm sorry I couldn't of been there when you needed me most," she said with a hint of a soft Irish accent.
Instinctively I reached out to wipe away the tear from her perfect face but hesitated and brushed her soft cheek with the backs of my fingers, her face gently pushing against my fingers as her eyes closed. My hand moved to the firm curve of the back of her neck; fingers intertwined in her silky, red hair.
Without thinking, I pulled her face to mine, meeting no resistance, and kissed her; gingerly at first and then more passionately. After what seemed like an eternity, we parted. I'd almost forgotten how great a good kiss felt.
Pushing a questioning smile through my amazement, I asked, "Who are you and why are you in my bed?"
* * *
"What does any wife in her bed do?" she replied.
I had to chuckle. "OK, who put you up to this? Was it Jonese?"
She gave me a quizzical smile as she slid out of bed and headed for the kitchen. I lost my breath as I watched her perfect form walk away. My heart ached with a longing only the lonely know.
Shortly the smells of fresh brewing coffee made its way back to me as I lay in bed wondering. I'd only dreamed about a woman like her; tall, graceful, strikingly beautiful and glamour-magazine sexy. A woman far, far out of my league. Women with looks like her are always looking for the BBD; Bigger, Better Deal. But how can the average ever hope to attract the extraordinary? Long ago I accepted the fact that what I wanted, or perhaps needed, would always be beyond my grasp.
"Like a cup would you?" she called from the kitchen. What the hell. If she wants to play, I can play too.
"Sure dear," I replied.
I watched stunned as she walked back through the bedroom doorway with two cups of coffee. Some men are turned on by lingerie or sexy nightgowns but a beautiful woman in a simple chemise leaves me speechless.
She handed me a cup then cradled hers with both hands as she sat down next to me, one leg folded under the other. A joke's a joke but this was going to be more difficult than I thought as her scent hit me again. I caught myself automatically breathing deeply.
I stood up putting some distance between myself and this lovely creature. "This has been very funny but enough is enough. Who put you up to this?"
She looked up at me with a concerned face and sighed a little. "Next you'll be telling me you don't remember our wedding?"
I almost started to laugh when I remembered something, something from last night.
"But that was a dream..."
"I thought so too," she said smiling wickedly.
"Wait a minute! That was only a dream!"
A sad look came over her lovely face. "Danny, no more joking now." Without another word she got up and started to walk out of the room.
Suddenly this wasn't funny anymore and for some reason I didn't want to see her hurt even if my friends had gotten her to play a strange, cruel trick on me.
"I'm sorry. That was a bad joke. Please come back."
She stopped in the doorway, her back radiating indecision. She then turned around, set her mug on a night stand, and ran to me throwing her arms around my neck. An intensity of emotion I'd never seen in any woman before danced in her eyes. "You know I forgive you." Giving me a quick but tender kiss on the nose, she removed herself from my arms and headed towards the bathroom. Over her shoulder she said, "Hurry up and be getting ready. We have shopping plans, remember?"
Who was I to argue with a goddess?
Forty-five minutes later we headed out the door. Somehow my friends even snuck in a closet full of clothes for her. Fall was quickly upon us and she came out wearing a pair of scruffy jeans and an old gray turtle-neck sweater. On her it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen on a woman.
It was only after I locked the front door and we headed towards my car that a cold knot of dread twisted my stomach. I believe cars are for getting from one place to another and mine's never been popular with any
woman. Let's face it, a sky-blue '78 AMC Pacer isn't exactly popular these days. It looks more like an egg on wheels than a car but it gets me around and it's reliable. This time I felt differently. This time I was embarrassed.
I expected her to react the same as all the others, "You drive that POS?!" But she didn't. She could have been getting into a Porsche the way she acted.
I backed out of the driveway and headed for the mall. Worst case, I've spent a little time with a beautiful woman who, though she might be acting, appears to enjoy my company. I've had dates turn out worse than this.
Her smell and proximity drove me crazy the entire trip and I didn't even know her name. The woman in my dream was named Jules so I'll call her that and see what happens.
We arrived about twenty minutes later. "Jules" looked out the window the whole time with a look of contentment on her face. My mind raced trying to figure out which one of my friends was playing this trick; a very gorgeous trick but torture none-the-less.
"Danny, I need to be picking me up a new sweater for the fair tonight," Jules said as we got out of the car and walked in through the front entrance. The fair? How'd she know about that? I didn't remember telling anyone.
I hate shopping but shopping for clothes is the worst. I like to go in, get what I need, and get out as soon as possible. I've yet to find a woman who feels the same way.
"While we're here I need to get my hair cut while you shop. Let's meet back at the food mall?" I suggested.
"Be seeing you in a bit then," she said as she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and headed towards Macy's.
I couldn't help but watch her walk away and noticed the looks she was getting from not only the guys but some of the women as well. What I wouldn't do for a woman like that! But now I was treading on dangerous grounds.
It didn't matter how much I loved them, things always turned out the same with the women in my life. Maybe if I'd just loved them more or bought them more gifts, they wouldn't have left me. What the hell, I don't stand a chance anyway so why am I torturing myself this way?
Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction Page 8