The Unraveling of Newman Blake: A Trippy Adventure Into the Soul
Author: Costa James John
Date: 2017-05-30 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: dark romance; Romance; Love; modern love; Contemporary Romance; affair romance
Description: Follow the trippy journey of Newman Blake, as he grapples with true love, death, time and God. In this book, Newman Blake finds himself in the rather unfortunate position of being dead. Finally, a book that rivals Alice in Wonderland, as being the trippiest book of all time . #clown #adventure #mind #intrigue #soul #journey
Publisher: Independently published

Unraveling

Newman Blake

By Costa James John

Edited by Roxanne Fagri

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark. The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For Odette, my beloved soulmate and inspiration.

A while earlier…

“I am not a wealthy man. If you choose to follow me, we will struggle.” Amber stares at his back curiously. “Maybe one day we will make it, and you will have all the luxuries and comfort you deserve, and maybe we won’t. We may die together, old, with no money and only each other. That is the long and hard road.”

He pauses.

“But there is also a short road. Let me explain. I recently met with a life insurance broker, and took out life insurance to the value of $20 million. Should I die right now, you will be the beneficiary of that money. What will you be able to do with that money? You will never have to work again. You will never have to worry about paying bills. You can buy a massive house, and a car and all the things you never had. You can travel the world, and still have enough to relax and do what you want to do in comfort”

He stretches out his hands, his back still facing her, his face towards the crevice.

“You deserve all this, and more.” He pauses again. “I want to be the one who offers his life for you. I want to be the one.”

“What are you saying Newman?”

“What I am saying is this: give me a small nudge, and I will fall. I will fall to my death.”

Chapter one

Newman Blake found himself in the rather unfortunate position of being dead. Well, at least he thought he was dead. He seemed to exist in a void, sitting on a street bench in the dark. The only light was from street lamps scattered amongst desolate buildings. There was the occasional rat that raced along the sidewalk, but no sign of people, until one fateful hour when he heard what sounded like laughter.

The laughter had a demented ring to it. And it didn’t stop. Wherever Newman walked the hysterical echo followed. He did not know where these unholy guffaws were coming from until out of nowhere it appeared in a burst of flames.

In the middle of the street evolved a clown of some sort. “Hello Nu-nu,” it shrieked.

Newman was startled.

“Oh Nu-nu, why do you look so surprised? Lost hope of bumping into anyone?”

“Who are you?”

“All in appropriate time, Nu-nu. First we have some unfinished business to attend to.”

It let out an evil bellow of laughter that rocked from building to building, and then briskly swaggered towards him. “Not sure what this place is, Nu-nu?”

“Where am I?”

“Consider yourself crossing through the doors of fantasy and the doors of reality.” The clown clicks its fingers, and suddenly music comes out of nowhere. The music is that of The Doors, ‘…this is the end, my only friend the end…’

“How did you do that?”

The clown roars with laughter. The beat plays on. “I have many tricks up my sleeve,” he says. He pulls something out of his coat sleeve. It is a framed photo of Newman’s wife.

“Recognize this?”

“Amber … where is she?”

“Never mind that. You never used to worry about where your soul would go when you were with her, so why do you worry now. You stand there wondering why you are apart from your dear, dear Amber. You are a fool.”

“I never made any decision like that.”

“From the time you were born until now, all the decisions you have made have sent you to this place.”

“I never made any decisions like that. What do you mean?”

“Let me refresh your memory, dear Nu-nu.” He clicks his fingers and the ground starts shaking and all that can be heard is hysterical laughter as everything goes black.

Chapter two

It is dark, but Newman can see a light. He is not sure whether he is dreaming or about to wake up. But he is familiar with this particular state of mind. He has been here before. Was it yesterday, or was it last week? Am I falling asleep or am I waking up? I am probably not sleeping, otherwise I wouldn't be so aware of everything, but I am tired and everything is a little vague.

Newman sees horses and carriages, dogs and faraway places, birthday candles and gold.

He sees the birthday candles again. He remembers himself at age seven, looking through the keyhole of his bedroom to see if anyone was awake.

Are my parents awake? What's the time? Still 3AM. I have only got a few more hours to wait before my birthday and my birthday present. What will it be? I know I asked for a bicycle, but my Mommy said maybe I would get a train set. What is the time? Three. What if I get the train set? Will my Daddy show me how to use it? Will I have to wait a year for the bicycle? My parents went to sleep such a long time ago. How many hours until they wake up?

Newman hears a noise and jumps up to see. He looks through the keyhole and there is nothing. He quickly looks out the window to see if it might be light yet, and then looks at the time. Still three - this going to take forever, well at least another four hours. Maybe my parents will wake up at six. Then I would only have to wait for three hours. Three hours is not that bad. What if I do get a bicycle? Will I still get a train set next year? It's only a few hours to wait. What is the time? Oh ... still three.

"Happy birthday! Happy birthday!" the voices echo. The champagne pops and laughter flows. What new level of intoxication will I reach tonight? "Twenty-one today!" says the banner, or is it a banner? He looks a little closer and sees the curtains with balloons tied to them. Newman is not in his seventh birthday anymore...not at all...this was when he was a little older. I have finished school...not a memory I would like to remember...but now it's my twenty-first birthday and I am going to forget all my worries. Newman is going to take the magic pill. Well at least that's what it was called amongst the youth of his time. LSD, Acid...I don't care what it is called, I am going to party tonight. So, Newman takes the pill and washes it down with some champagne.

Not much later Newman is sitting in the corner of a dark room and looking ahead at everything he can see. The sound of the music is creating tunnels and chasms, almost black holes in front of him. He can hear the voices...the beautiful singing voices, and the music forms new tunnels in front of him. Tunnels that go to infinity. They are powerful and mystical and the music makes them. Let me look into one.

Newman gets up and looks into the chasm. Suddenly the song changes and all the tunnels start vanishing away. A new song starts playing. It doesn't matter, because this song is even more beautiful than the last one. What was the song anyway? I can't remember, but it doesn't matter because this song is so beautiful.

He starts seeing clouds and sky. He feels himself drifting into the clouds and the more the voice sings, the warmer and more relaxed he feels. He is flying and he feels at peace. If only this feeling would last forever. The more he flies, the more peaceful he feels as the clouds whisk past him. The song ends and Newman starts falling to earth. He is falling faster and faster. He is going to hit the ground any second. "Oh, my God, I am falling. I am going to die." Newman feels himself falling and the ground is getting closer. Newman starts screaming in absolute terror. He is going to die. Newman keeps on falling and falling, the fear of death gripping hold of his being.

With the fear of certain death before him, Newman spends the entire evening of his twenty-first birthday falling to the ground, in what he believes is going to be certain death, but he never hits the ground.

I remember that, I never hit the ground. I was just heavily drugged up and hallucinating. But where am I now? Am I still sleeping? Maybe I am hallucinating.

Chapter three

Newman is back in the void. He is a little shaken up. “That was my youth. What is this place? Where is Amber? What have you done with her?”

The clown sniggers, “Don’t you understand Nu-nu? You wouldn’t be apart from her in the first place if you hadn’t turned your back on God."

“I didn’t turn my back on God. When did I do that? That was my youth, I was harmless.”

“Yes, but it was the decisions you made in your youth that led you to the denial.”

“What denial? I never denied anything.”

“Oh, on the contrary Nu-nu, on the contrary. You turned your back on God and that is why you are apart from your beloved wife.”

Newman stares at the clown. He doesn’t know where he is nor what the clown is talking about.

“You doubt me?” says the clown in a pious tone.

He snaps his fingers. The ground starts shaking, and everything goes black.

Chapter four

Newman sees himself as a young man sitting in front of his computer in his apartment. He connects to the Internet. In want of an answer he searches. He remembers this day, he has lived it before.

In the midst of the massive media explosion called the Internet, surely there must be an answer to my grief.

Like a chicken without a head, he wantonly grasps at a couple of loose associations, and “bang” he has some keywords with which to seek.

Chess;

Venus; and

Solitude.

Hmm. Not too bad in foresight, but let hindsight be the judge of my pursuit.

Link after link, link after link, following and chasing.

He clicks away, absorbing and reading all that is striking, moving through the words and imagery like an eyeball being manipulated by sporadic whims. The more he looks the more his mind absorbs.

He begins to understand a concept and reads further. He investigates to find that the topic is rather enlightening. Maybe the answers are here. Maybe …

After hours of search and constant stimulation, something happens. He comes to a so-called paradigm shift. The seed is sown in his mind, and the question is asked.

Surely in this infinite abundance of information there must be a portal to God? Surely God can communicate with man through this medium. He would be able to be anonymous, yet he could communicate. Surely if God existed he would show himself in miraculous ways over the Internet.

The answer is simple. Yes, God must be on the Internet somewhere. It’s just a matter of finding him.

So, he begins his search…

Well let’s see… hmm …where do I start? One thing is for sure, he decides, I am going to need some sort of a methodology to narrow down the search. First Newman must define the parameters. Let me define the parameters first. What does the Internet consist of? Information … knowledge ... mainly knowledge. Knowledge in different forms. All different kinds of knowledge from law through to love. Knowledge of different countries, people and beliefs. Knowledge in the form of text, pictures, videos and even emotions. There is knowledge about everything here … and possibly even a portal to God.

Let me start by going to a search engine and typing in “portal”. So, Newman does exactly that. A flash of white from the screen lights up the room as an array of words and sentences populate the screen.

Voice portal

Communication portal

Portal of hope

The science of portals

And many others

Newman is a little overwhelmed by all these different links and is forced to make a decision. So, he clicks on “Portal of Hope” and the room is lit up in a bright yellow and then green as the screen takes his eyes and imagination into a whole new dimension.

He follows the words closely with his eyes.

Woman saves children from sinking bus and drowns.

Mary Lou Palmer from Minnesota was feeding the ducks at her local lake earlier today when the tragedy occurred. A school bus carrying 18 school children steered completely off the bridge and head first into the water.

The bus started to sink and Mary Lou jumped in and swam towards the accident to help. She arrived at the spot where the bus had landed and took a deep breath and swam towards the door of the bus. She struggled to get the door open, only to find that the bus driver was dead. She pulled children out two and three at a time, taking them to the surface and helping them to safety.

There was no way that she was going to get them all out and take them to the surface, so she decided to take them out of the bus and push them upwards to safety. As Mary Lou pushed child after child, she started getting weaker. She knew that if she didn’t get oxygen soon she would pass out. There was one child left, but she knew she didn’t have enough breath to save him. With her last strength, she swam to the child at the back of the bus and got him to the door of the bus, and as she pushed the child to safety, she passed out and drowned. All the children survived.

Newman stops for a second and reflects. This is not a portal to God. I am certainly not going to find God here, let me try some new keywords. So, he goes back to the search engine and types in a new key word. This time he types “God”.

The room is lit up again as the colors of light from the monitor illuminate the darkness of his room. The links this time:

God and Love

Tribes claim to be mediators of God

Acting God

In the name of God

He clicks on the link about the tribes and off he goes into the colors of the screen. He reads:

East African witchdoctors claim to be given the cure for Aids by God.

In the rural areas of East Africa, it is reported that witch doctors are telling their so-called patients that in order for them to cure their Aids; God had told them they should have sexual intercourse with virgins.

The result of this advice, it is reported, is that there is a spate of baby rapes in the eastern African region. Men of all ages are raping babies, and the police are trying everything in their power to stop this terror on humanity. Baby rape statistics have now reached a world-high as more and more innocent babies and their families are becoming victims, of not only rape, but also Aids and subsequent death.

He stops reading and thinks for a couple of seconds. I am certainly not going to find God here. Let me go to the link “Acting God”. So, he does.

On the screen the following words appear:

Doctor in Australia accused of acting God.

There is a dispute between a Doctor in the Australia and activists on the concept of euthanasia. This doctor from Sydney terminated the life of his wife of 20 years, because she was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. The doctor, who is up for charges of murder, says that he was putting her out of her pain and misery.

This doctor allegedly injected her repeatedly with insulin between her toes, slowly killing her. When asked for comment, the Doctor said, "If I had left her to die under natural circumstances, her suffering would have been prolonged. I was God in the situation, because I was the only one who could stop her pain.” It is reported the man claimed a considerable sum of life insurance on her death.

Newman pauses. Maybe this is God? Being able to end suffering - being able to end pain. Newman thinks to himself and decides. This can’t be God; this is man. I want to find more concrete evidence or communication with God, I want to see God or at least hear him. God please reveal yourself to me …”

So, he clicks on the link “In the name of God”

A purple light is cast on his face sweeping him away into the next pursuit.

Student kills 300 after teacher says, “There is no God”.

A 17-year-old student at a senior school in London yesterday set fire to a 500-bed dormitory at his school. The student had apparently had an argument with his teacher earlier in the week about religion. The science teacher told the young man that there was in fact no scientific evidence of God.

The young man was reportedly a very passionate and devout believer of God, and took the argument to heart. He ignited the dormitories and approximately 300 young people including him, burned to death, reportedly, in the name of God.

He stops reading. Well this man truly believes in God, and has conviction, maybe he knows the real God. But I guess I will never know now. Let me carry on searching. But this time let me try an original approach; let me try chatting to God over the chat lines.

So, the still determined Newman goes to a chat room, and to his surprise there is a person chatting with the nickname “God”.

He types:

Newman> Hi

Newman waits ….

God> Hi

Newman> Who are you?

God> I am whatever you want me to be, but the more important question is who are you?

Newman> I am a man in search of God … and I am trying to find him on the Internet.

God> You can only truly search for God, when you truly seek the truth. And you cannot seek the truth if you have assumptions.

Newman> What assumptions?

God> You have assumed that God is the Creator of life and man. You have also assumed that God is therefore good. Newman, do not be so closed-minded.

Newman> Who are you?

God> Do not change the subject. You will come across countless examples that could be manifestations of God, but how will you know? And is the Internet the right place to be looking?

Newman> Well … the Internet is a tree of information accessible to your computer … but all placed there by man. Every little bit of information that is found or read on the Net is placed there by man, and all communication made online is made by man, so if I was to find anything on the Internet it would be a good synopsis of man or human nature – not God.

God> But what if God in his truest form reveals himself through human nature … then the chances are that you will find God?

Newman pauses.

Newman> Can I ask you a question?

God> Yes?

Newman> Are you God?

God> No I am man.

Newman suddenly feels embarrassed and vulnerable.

I have been foolish and made a mistake. I have searched the tree of knowledge for God and gone in a full circle to find man.

Newman becomes furious. He throws the keyboard onto the floor and rages out of the dark room in shame. The room is now totally quiet, and all that can be seen is the flickering white light of the computer screen casting through the darkness onto the wall.

Chapter five

“I told you so, I told you so.” The clown shrieks. Newman is back in the void.

He is a little dizzy.

“I told you, that you turned your back on God.”

“That wasn’t God, he said he was a man, you heard him …didn’t you?”

“Newman, Newman, Newman, when will you learn? You sat in front of the tree of knowledge of good and evil and you didn’t find God?

“No.”

“It’s simple, there can be nothing outside the poles of extreme evil and extreme good. It was then that you denied God, your path changed forever, and you ended you up here.”

“Where is Amber? How do I get to her? Please …”

The clown clicks his fingers and out of nowhere music starts playing again. This time it is, Unchained Melody from the movie Ghost.

‘…And time goes by, so slowly and time…’

The clown takes out a handkerchief and mockingly wipes a tear from his eye. “How touching. I loved that movie.”

He lets out a roar of laughter and throws the handkerchief into the air.

“Now, now Nu-nu, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Amber, if I may call her that,” he says mockingly, “is in another realm. And you could only be with her if you truly loved her.”

The clown pulls a bible out his pocket, and sarcastically reads: “What is bound on earth will be bound in heaven.”

He looks at Newman.

“I did bind her on earth. I loved her. Is this heaven?”

“Don’t change the subject, Nu-nu. You say you truly loved her. Prove it to me.”

He clicks his fingers and once again the ground starts shaking, and then darkness.

Chapter six

He hears a door closing behind him locking the cold out, and the warmth and music inside. He breathes the atmosphere in. He knows where he is. He doesn't have to look. He has lived this day before. He is at Romeo's Coffee Bar. He opens his eyes and breathes out. His mouth tastes dry and he yearns for that familiar taste of beer. He walks to the bar through a few people and pushes in to order a beer.

The music that is playing is the Blues. He wants to see if he knows anyone here. He gets to the window and decides to take a seat. He takes a sip of his beer and lights a cigarette.

He looks around and sees a lady sitting at a window table and she is alone. She looks at her watch and then looks at him for a second. She realises that he is watching her and she quickly looks away, and looks at her watch again. She has a cup of coffee in front of her and one empty one, next to it.

That lady has been here for a while.

Newman continues staring at her. God, she is beautiful.

I wonder if she is alone. I want to go and speak to her. He can’t move...

She takes a sip of her coffee and looks across at him again. She knows he is watching her for sure now.

This guy has been watching me for five minutes, he could be my date. How can I be sure though? I can't just walk over to him. He is a total stranger. I know that the guy I am supposed to be meeting is an accountant, and he is supposed to be wearing a red sweater anyway.

She looks at him a little longer and then concludes: There is no way that he is an accountant.

She looks away. Newman is still looking at her. He feels this sudden burst of confidence and stands up. He walks over to her. His heart is beating like a drum. He can feel it. It's all he can feel.

Newman looks at her, getting her attention and then says: “Excuse me, would you mind if I ask you a question?”

Amber looks up at him and answers: “Are you my blind date?”

Newman thinks quickly, say yes, and replies, “no, but I was watching you from over there and I think that you are very beautiful, and it would be my absolute pleasure to sit with you for a brief time and chat while you wait for whoever you are waiting for. No strings attached just a short chat and then I will leave.”

Amber thinks to herself for a second: My date is never going to arrive.

Amber answers: “Yes, but when my date arrives, you will have to leave.”

Newman sits down quickly and says: “Fine. All I want is five minutes of your time and then you can tell me to stay or to leave and I will. Just five minutes.”

“Yes…”

Newman looks at his watch and says: “I saw you sitting there and I knew that we would connect. You see, I come here often and I don't often speak to people that I don't know. But it was different with you. I saw that you were looking at your watch, and that you were on your second cup of coffee. I also saw that you dressed conservatively and were prim and ladylike. I knew there was no way you would have pushed yourself through to the bar twice. Unless, unless you had been waiting here long. You don't come across as the type of lady to push yourself through drinking men. You seem too ladylike for that. I then saw that you looked around quite often. You are dressed nicely, but not overdone. You want to look good, but not too good. I figured that you must have been waiting for a blind date. But, then I thought why? She is beautiful. She has beautiful eyes and beautiful face. Why would she be waiting for a blind date? There is no way that you can have a problem finding a man. I'm sure men are falling at your feet.

“So, the only plausible reason could be that you have had bad luck with men. You have been treated badly a few times and now you are wondering if you will ever find the right man. Then I thought well if there is a blind date still arriving, then you have no feelings about him yet. It was my chance. Before you met this man, I wanted to meet you. After all you have no feelings for me either. I have just as much chance as him. So, I came over. You see, I am perceptive. I have the gift of insight. I can read situations. And when I looked into your eyes over that coffee cup, all I could see with all the intuition that God has given me, is the most beautiful, pure and compassionate person I have ever seen.”

Newman keeps silent for a while. The rumble of the Blues plays on.

“Tell me I am wrong and I will walk away and you will never see me again, or tell me I am right and I will stay and we can chat.”

Amber takes a sip of her coffee. “I don't mind if you stay for a while, but you will have to leave when my date arrives.”

Newman makes himself comfortable and asks: “Have you been here before?”

“No, I have walked past it before. I usually walk past here when I go to get groceries.”

“Oh, you live close by.”

“Yes, about two blocks away.”

“Well, what do you think of the place, now that you are here for the first time?”

“It's not bad, I like the music, but I don't usually come to places like this.”

“What do you do in your spare time then?”

“I read. I read a lot.”

“Really, like what.”

“I read nearly anything, just not comedy.”

“Well, what are your favourite books?”

“My all-time favourite book is a romance.”

“What do you like so much about it?”

“I love the underlying messages in the story.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, the story is a about a man who will never change his ideals from generation to generation, and he is so stringent in his personality that his whole life falls apart because he can't adapt to a changing environment. And then there is his wife, and all she knows how to do is love her husband. Through rich and poor, through pain and suffering, she sticks to her vows, even though her whole life is falling apart, because her husband won't change.”

“Why does that appeal to you so much?”

“I guess I am a romantic, I believe in true love.”

“And what other books do you like?”

“I like books about love at first sight; I like books about men who go to war for love - basically any genre where love conquers through struggle. I also like books about psychology”.

“But isn't it a sad indictment? That true love can only emerge through struggle? I mean why can’t two people just meet and live happily ever after. Does there always have to be an element of struggle?”

“Well, in my experience there always is, except that I usually don't make it to the other side. So, I have realised that the only reason can be that it wasn't true love.”

“So, what you are saying is that if love can sustain through hardship then it is true love?”

“Yes.”

“But if you take that a step further, it could be said that the degree of hardship would be an accurate depiction of the level of love?”

“I believe that.”

“So, you believe that a man who goes to war to protect his wife and family is the noblest kind of man there can be?”

“Not necessarily a man who goes to war, but perhaps a more accurate definition would be a man who is prepared to push himself to the utmost limit for love.”

“Well, the utmost limit, for any man is either to die for love or kill for love. I mean that is the most extreme action that one can take.”

“That’s what I believe, but as I said before I am a romantic.”

“Ok. So, you have explained your meaning of the sustainability of love and the test of love, but how do you think people fall in love?”

“I follow a psychological school of thought on that.”

“Yes”

“Well, I believe that every single person has a love script.”

“A love script?”

“Yes. When we are born, we have a genetic makeup. We also form a personality as well as preferences and tastes. When our personality is moulding, we have a picture or vision of the perfect man or woman in our hearts and minds. The picture is not so much what they look like, but how they make us feel. You see, let’s say that when I was a child I had a deep-seated need for security and affection. Then what happens is that the dream man that I want will subconsciously fulfil those desires. You see people will meet, there will be a physical attraction to a point, and then if the two love scripts match then there is no stopping them. Love is like two powerful magnets that pull at each other the more they fulfil each other's psychological needs. And there is nothing in this world that can come in between a man and a woman when that happens.”

“I thought you said that you were romantic?”

“I am, but I am also realistic.”

“Well, for a romantic person, that is probably one of the most scientific definitions of love that I have ever heard.”

“Would you then like to share with me your definition of love?”

“I believe that love is a feeling, something that you feel, an attraction.”

“It is, but subconsciously in the back of your head there is a love script. For example, you were sitting across there and you looked at me. You liked me and were possibly attracted to me. But if you look a little deeper, you are also lonely, and don't want to feel lonely anymore. The reason that you are here tonight is that you don't want to have to spend tonight alone. So, you see your love script coupled with attraction was what made you stand up and walk over to me.”

“Are you saying that it was not right or that there was something wrong with me coming here? That I am not attracted to you?”

“No, all that I am saying is yes there is such a thing as true love, but it takes more than attraction, it takes the ability to endure hardships with each other and the ability to do extreme acts of selflessness to cherish what there is between the two people.”

“I am not sure if my admittance of attraction to you was just accepted or rejected.”

Amber laughs.

“Well, I am prepared to endeavour a sustaining relationship with the man that I find love with, but I still need to be attracted to the person. Because attraction is the fuel that drives a couple to the point of true love. The point where they know that they have something they can cherish and fight for.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes”

“Are you attracted to me?”

She pauses.

“Yes.”

Newman feels his heart beating again.

“I am attracted to you, but I hardly know you. Why don’t you tell me about yourself? “

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your favorite book.”

“I like the book by a professor where he explains the importance of language in thinking.”

That sounds interesting.

“Yes, he explains that people are limited in their thinking by their language. For example, what if there was a language that you couldn't say the word ‘love’ in. How would you even start to define love and theorise about it and romanticise? You wouldn't be able to make the sentence "love at first sight". And if you can't say the phrase, the concept doesn't exist. For example, we have one word for 'snow', but in the Eskimo language they have closer to the region of 30 words for snow - white snow, fluffy snow, melting snow and more. They also have about fifteen words for friend. One of them meaning, "I like you, but I wouldn’t go seal clubbing with you."

Amber bursts out laughing.

“There is a country in the Far East where they can't say the words: “If only". Think about that. I may be sitting here thinking I want to hold her hand, 'if only I could get closer to her", but the only way that I would be able to say that would be either ‘I want to hold her hand, and I am not sitting next to her, so I will have to either move next to her or stay where I am.’"

Amber smiles: “I don't hold men's hands on the first date.”

Newman is a little embarrassed. “I am not trying to hold your hand; I am trying to illustrate a point.”

Amber still smiling says:” And your point is?”

“That man is limited in thought by his language.”

“And the significance of that?”

“All people of different languages think differently, they are limited by different paradigms.”

She asks, “And do you think that certain languages lend themselves to more superior thinking skills in the people that think in them?”

“I am not sure; I suppose it depends on how superiority is judged. For example, if a person was judged superior because they could navigate themselves through snow, then I suppose the Eskimos would be superior thinkers. On the other hand, if a person's superiority was judged on their ability to conceptualise and communicate about dreams and the future, then the people who don't have the words 'if only' in their vocabulary would be judged inferior.”

“That is an interesting concept, but it doesn't explain the fact that there may be people that may not have the word 'love' in their language but still have a very deep-seated capacity to love. Love has nothing to do with an ability to think.”

“Then why did you give me a whole psychological definition of love? You wouldn't have been able to do that if you couldn't even say the word 'love'.”

“Maybe I wouldn't have been able to explain or even come to the definition of love, because of my language limitations, but I would still have the capacity to love.”

They are interrupted by a man wearing a red sweater: “Excuse me I am looking for a lady called Amber. Do you perhaps know her?””

Amber replies, "No, sorry.”

The man walks off and they both chuckle.

Newman asks her: “Can I get you another coffee?”

“No, I have to go now, I am walking and it is getting late.”

“I really enjoyed our conversation tonight. Can I walk you home?”

“Ok, thank you.”

They walk through the people and the beating music and the door out into the cold. They walk through the Autumn streets of Brooklyn, and they chat and laugh at how you can just about go around in circles the whole night if you start philosophizing about love. They arrive shortly at her house and he walks her to the door.

Amber looks him in the eyes. “Thank you for a lovely evening, I really enjoyed talking to you.”

Amber kisses him.

“Can I come in? We can have some coffee and carry on our chat?”

“No, I don't know you well enough. Why don't you come past tomorrow and we can take a walk through the park, maybe we can feed the ducks or something?”

“Ok, I will see you tomorrow then.”

He watches her go inside safely and he starts walking off. He turns the corner and starts heading home. His heart is beating again. He really likes Amber. He passes a drunken tramp on the side of the road.

“Can you spare a coin for me?”

Newman walks a little faster. He gets home opens the door and goes inside. He switches on the light and gets himself a beer from the fridge and sits down.

Now that is a classy lady, intelligent, pretty and ladylike. If only I knew what made her tick. What was she trying to say? Why wouldn't she let me in? I enjoy chatting to her and I like it when she laughs at my jokes.

When I am with her I don't feel lonely, I feel special. I really like her. And if I play my cards right I can have her.

But how do I win her heart? She seems to have a predefined definition of love in her mind. She believes that the first thing that comes into play is the attraction, then the love script needs to be matched, then the man needs to portray his love through extreme acts of love and hardship.

She has had relationships before, that didn't work out. She must have been attracted to them, but they never passed the next test. The test of sustainability. The test that they could only prove through an extreme act of selflessness.

I don't want to fail her test.

We agreed that the most extreme action that can be done is to either kill one's self or kill someone else. Maybe in the time of the conquerors it was acceptable to go and kill people as a sign of love, but we are living in the 21st century. She would be really happy, and her love script would be fulfilled if I killed for her. It would prove to her that I am prepared to do anything for. Why are times different now from the times of the conquerors? It was still taking human life. It was barbaric, but still justified in its time. Why was it justified? Because they were doing it for love.

I don't want to be lonely again.

Newman gets up and walks to the kitchen, and gets a butcher knife. He puts it into a bag and walks out. He is going to her house, but he must make a little stop first.

He finds his way back to the drunken tramp.

“I have one question for you?” Newman takes out the knife: “What is true love?”

The tramp looks at him in fear.

“Answer the question or else I will kill you.”

The tramp starts to stutter emotionally. “I had a wife for 43 years and every day when I got home we used to lie in front of the fireplace and make love. She used to massage my feet after a hard day’s work, and I helped her with everything around the house. We shared everything - every little moment. We used to laugh together and cry together. When we were together, there was no other place that we would rather be. We completed each other.

“You see, the key to our love was that I respected her and she adored me. She adored every word that I said. We understood each other. After 43 years, we were just as in love as the day we met, and when she died I started drinking and I couldn't stop. Today I have nothing, except my whisky and my memories. I live each moment treasuring the memories of her. It's simple, if I can't have the simple pleasure of being with her and cherishing her then I can't live, and that is what true love is.”

The tramp pauses.

Newman stabs the man brutally: “You have a sick definition of love.”

A little later Newman arrives at Amber's house and rings the doorbell. Amber opens the door and is in her pyjamas. She is a little nervous as she looks out to see that Newman is back.

“I am back - and I have something for you - a declaration of my love.”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out the head of the tramp and throws it onto the floor. It rolls to her feet. She collapses onto her knees and starts sobbing hysterically:

“That has got to be...”

She carries on sobbing and shaking.

“That has got to be the single most…romantic thing that anyone has ever done for me!”

Chapter seven

Newman is in darkness. “Ah, true love,” mocks the clown. “How touching.”

“How do I get back to her? Please …”

“You say you loved her then, and maybe you did. But it’s what happens after the honeymoon is over that really counts. Isn’t it Nu-nu? How was life with her? Was she happy? Did you make her happy? Did you neglect her?”

Newman is a little shaken up now. He shouts, “Am I dead?”

The clown takes out a gong and clashes it, creating a resounding clang.

“I thought you would never ask. But, Nu-nu, I want to ask you, would it actually make a difference whether you were dead if Amber was here with you?”

“You said that if I loved her I could get back to her.”

“Ah, I did. Let’s see what happened after you met.”

He snaps his fingers and everything goes dark.

Chapter eight

Newman wakes. He shakes dreams from his eyes, to see her still there. Amber slowly opens her eyes, gathers focus, and smiles at him. Her gentle gaze is hypnotic, and as she sits up her voluptuous breasts are momentarily exposed.

There is nothing more attractive than a woman that exudes confidence. Some of the most beautiful women that I have ever known have been ashamed of their naked bodies. And because of that hesitation, I have wondered, what they are hiding? Some hidden flaw - that will soon be apparent - that will soon revolt me. And then some of the most modest women I have known have had such an air of confidence, strutting around naked - an inner beauty emitting. What I love about Amber is that not only is she so naturally beautiful, but she is confident as well. She has no blemishes to hide and she knows it.

The music from the clock radio plays on.

“Today is going to be a fantastic day”, he says as he hops out of bed, t-shirt on and bottom bare.

His butt is perfect. Round where it is supposed to be round, and firm where it is supposed to be firm.

He makes his way to the mirror, Amber staring at his behind with intense concentration. She loves watching his bare bum as he walks, and he knows it.

Newman gazes deeply at himself in the mirror. “Today I am taking you somewhere special”, he says.

Amber is a little curious, but she knows that he likes to surprise her, and she likes the surprises. Newman believes in surprising a woman. He says surprises are like laughter to the soul. Whether it is a new bottle of perfume on her dressing table when she walks in, or a bunch of freshly picked flowers, he always has a trick up his sleeve.

She discovered very early on that Newman is prepared to work on their relationship, and she likes that. Too many men take a woman as their own and then stop all effort to impress her. Thank God, he is not like that.

Over a strong cup of coffee, they get dressed and start heading for the front door. “Where are we going?” she finally asks.

Today I take you where I have taken no woman,” he answers, capturing her attention immediately.

He has dated lots of women, where is he taking me? She loves it when they do something for the first time together, because she knows that no one else has done it with him before, and she knows those moments are rare.

They head outside hand-in-hand, and with Newman in the lead they bustle their way to the train station, and board a train of his choosing.

The suburbs start whisking past the window and Amber finds that they are headed on a route she has not been before. There are more and more trees passing by now, and rays of light are flashing through. She once read that if you are exposed to a certain sequence of flashes of light you can have an epileptic fit, so she closes her eyes anxiously and grasps his hand tighter.

They are heading out of town.

She remembers when she was a child. She used to travel on trains with her Dad from time to time. That was before he was killed. He was murdered in a robbery at a bank.

Two robbers entered with guns and pointed them at the cashier - demanding cash. Her father tried to protect his daughter and stepped forward. He was slain in a hail of bullets, and it took him several minutes to die. Needless to say, that day changed Amber’s life forever.

At the tender age of six she used to wait for her Daddy to come home every night and tuck her in bed as he always did. When he didn’t, she just wanted someone to tell her that he didn’t want to leave her - that he had no choice - but no one ever did.

Amber’s mother never recovered. She went into a state of panic. Each new day she lived waiting for the next tragedy to befall her - this time she would be ready she told herself. And then 10 years later it did, when she was diagnosed with advanced lymphoma. She was dead within three months.

After the loss of her parents Amber never waited for tragedy to strike anymore. It had. She grieved the loss of her mother for two years, and then she met Newman. He was her first serious boyfriend, but he meant a lot more than that. Not only was he an end to her grief, but he was the first serious male figure in her life since her father, and she swore never to lose him.

After an hour’s travel the train comes to a stop. Amber looks around and for as far as she can see there is forest. They are at the last stop on the route. “Follow me,” he says as he starts heading for the trees. Maybe she followed because she was young and stupid, or maybe she followed because she was in love, but that September morning she followed, and her life would never be the same.

All that could be heard for about ten minutes as they followed a path into the thick forest were twigs breaking and dry leaves cracking below. Suddenly Newman stops and turns his head. He smiles and looks at her. “We are nearly there,” he says, looking at her as if seeking some sort of approval.

“Where are we?” All that she can see is trees and grass. There are singing birds. “Just a little further,” he says. They come to a clearing. They near the edge of a cliff, and as she looks closer she can see a steep drop to the bottom - a few hundred feet. In the distance she can see the horizon stretching before her in all directions. She pauses. The view is magnificent.

“We are here my love”, he says. The wind stirs. She looks down into the crevice and feels a little dizzy. He takes her hand and smiles shyly. “This is the place I will take only you.” Her dizziness passes. She looks up. She knows that she must seem impressed, not to disappoint him, but she is unsure of the relevance of where she is. She smiles.

“Let me explain,” he says.

“We have been together for some time now. We have laughed together, we have talked, and we have talked some more. The more we have come to know each other the more I want to spend time with you. Our conversations have been the fuel of our conviction, and every waking moment I yearn to be with you.”

He slowly gets down on one knee still holding her hand.

“You see,” he continues, “before I met you my life flashed before me with the thunderous velocity that loud music and bright lights bring. From one party to the next I reveled. It was one kick, one high, too many. And I was headed for disaster. I pushed the limits and at times crossed them. I was in search of a greater high. Life must be enjoyed is what I told myself as I gathered up each new hedonistic rush.”

He looks up at her. “And then I met you, and everything changed. I realized that true happiness does not come from a syringe or a bottleneck pipe, but that there is something much more valuable. It is the love that I have found for you, and it lasts far longer than anything else I have tried. You are the ultimate rush - the ultimate high.

He smiles. “I am lucky I didn’t land up dead, but the fantastic thing is I have something good, I have you.”

He stands up and inhales the morning air.

“I am alive, and I have brought you here to thank you for saving me. I don’t want this to be just another relationship. I want to give you what I have given no other women.”

He turns around and faces the distant horizon. He steps forward to the edge of the drop and then continues speaking.

“I am not a wealthy man. If you choose to follow me, we will struggle.”

Amber stares at his back curiously.

“Maybe one day we will make it, and you will have all the luxuries and comfort you deserve, and maybe we won’t. We may die together, old, with no money and only each other. That is the long and hard road.”

He pauses.

“But there is also a short road. Let me explain. I recently met with a life insurance broker, and took out life insurance to the value of $20 million. Should I die right now, you will be the beneficiary of that money. What will you be able to do with that money? You will never have to work again. You will never have to worry about paying bills. You can buy a massive house, and a car and all the things you never had. You can travel the world, and still have enough to relax and do what you want to do in comfort”

He stretches out his hands, his back still facing her, his face towards the crevice.

“You deserve all this, and more.”

He pauses again.

“I want to be the one who offers his life for you. I want to be the one.”

“What are you saying Newman?”

“What I am saying is this: give me a small nudge, and I will fall. I will fall to my death. Then go back to the train station and catch the train home. Go to the local police department and tell them that we went for a walk and I fell. Tell them that you are devastated. Go home, and in about a week or two phone my insurance broker, his number is in the closet next to my bed. Tell him that there has been an accident and ask him what you must do. Then live, live, live. Do it for me - with no regrets. Take from life what you deserve - what I want to give you. I am going to close my eyes now. I want you to give me a gentle push.

His arms are still outstretched.

Amber looks at his back. She can reach him, and the thought crosses her mind. It would be so easy to just give him a little push. There is nobody around. She looks at him standing there in her reach one more time. She stretches out her hand towards him.

“Come with me now, Newman. Open your eyes and come to me. Let’s walk to the train stop together, and as we ride out of here with the trees rushing past. Let’s start a life together as husband and wife. Let’s build each other up. We may not have a lot, but what we have will be ours. You will have me, and I will have you, and the world we will face together. Come Newman Blake. Come with me.” The flashing of the sun can still be seen through the window, as Newman and Amber embrace each other’s warmth on the seat of the train.

There is darkness.

Chapter nine

Now Newman remembers his working years as he sees himself getting out of bed one winter morning. That was the most tedious time of my life. He watches himself getting up to go to work. This is the same thing I have been doing for ten years. Yes, I have managed to pay the bills, but I don't think I can spend another day sitting behind that desk and calculating those figures. Ten years have gone by and every day I get up, I shower, I brush my teeth. I get dressed in one of my five suits. I walk to the kitchen. I eat breakfast. I walk to my car. I drive to work. I arrive. I get out of the car and walk up the stairs. I say "hi" to Al. I walk to my desk. I sit down. My boss comes and drops a new load of papers on my desk and I spend the morning processing them. I go on a one-hour lunch break. I get back. If I happen to be five minutes late my boss comments. I go up the stairs. I go to my desk. I start working again. I finish work. I go home. I eat dinner. I watch the news. I get into bed. I read for a while. I go to sleep. I dream. I wake up and the entire process starts over again.

Surely there can't be a more tedious existence than this. How could I do this for tr years? Well, I guess if you get into a routine, it is not so long. Maybe today will be different; maybe today I will get that promotion that I have been waiting for. Maybe today I will win a holiday, maybe I will win the lottery. Surely there must be more excitement to life than an occasional lottery ticket, and do I have to listen to those snide remarks from my boss?

Newman sees himself eating breakfast as he always did, and then getting into his car as he starts driving the usual route. I remember that day, that was the day of the accident.

Newman watches himself driving. He turns the usual left, right and left that he always takes when he leaves the driveway and carries on straight. He sees the same shop on the corner that he always passes - the one where he gets the lottery tickets from. He turns his head to look at it. He looks forward and sees something in the road. It's a dog. He swerves left and sees a pole. "Oh, my God!"

There is a loud smash of metal and breaking glass as the car crashes into the pole. Newman tastes blood in his mouth and can hear the sirens. There is a man talking to him, but he can't hear anything. Then he is in a bed opening his eyes. All he can see is Amber and other people, lots of other people. The agony suddenly overwhelms him.

Hold on, I am dreaming, or at least remembering. I must be. That was the worst day of my life, but where am I now? His mind flashes to something else. He sees himself getting out of bed a few years later.

"Today will be different," he says. "Maybe it won't be as boring as it usually is. Maybe I will buy a lottery ticket on the way to work." So, he gets up, he showers, he brushes his teeth. He gets dressed in one of his five suits. He walks to the kitchen. He eats breakfast. He says goodbye to Amber and walks to his car. He sees the shop on the corner and stops to buy a lottery ticket. He sees himself arriving at work. He walks up the stairs. He says "hi" to Al and walks to his desk.

He sits down and his boss comes in with the papers. "Why are you five minutes late?"

Newman replies, "I stopped quickly at the shop for a lottery ticket."

"And shouldn't you perhaps do that in your lunch-break? Ever since you were in that accident you have become careless about your work."

Newman sees his boss dropping the papers onto the desk and then walking out.

Time freezes for a moment as the anger boils up inside him. The anger grows and grows and won’t go away. Newman is shaking and can’t concentrate.

Newman remembers himself waking again, this time with a purpose. "Happy birthday! Happy birthday!" he hears. He looks up to see his wife. He gets out of bed and walks to the closet. He puts one of his five suits as usual, but this day was going to be different. Newman was going to make sure of it. He goes to his closet and takes out a baseball bat. He puts it in a bag. He walks to the kitchen and kisses Amber goodbye. I am going to kill my boss today, but I don’t care because I know I am dead already.

He gets in his car and drives to work. He says "hi" to Al and walks to his desk. His boss walks in with the usual papers. Newman takes the bat out the bag and slams his boss three times in the face. Newman sees him in a pitiful pool of blood and gore. There is darkness.

Chapter ten

Am I still dreaming, or am I remembering. I can't be dreaming, otherwise I wouldn't be asking this question. Did all of that definitely happen? Yes, that did all happen. I can't see anything - only memories and darkness.

Why did I do that to my boss? I was angry because I gave ten years of my life to that company and all they could do was insult me. It went quickly with my routine in place. My routine helped me to stop thinking about other things. It's what I knew.

If I had a clock I would know how long I have been here, and how long I have left. A clock can't help me here, it only helped me then. But did it even help me?

When I was seven, one minute seemed like two hours. I could have sworn that two hours had passed and it was still three. What about when I was drugged up? I was falling and falling and the fear was real; the fear of death. If I was really falling it would have taken a few seconds, but that fear lasted the whole night and I never hit the ground. I just wanted it to end, and time gave me no consolation.

When I came face to face with God, and ignored his existence, I made a decision. A decision that I now regret. A decision that I now have all the time in the world to think about.

When I spent ten years working for a company, I had no concept of time until the time had ended, because I only occupied my mind with the time spent on each part of a daily routine, and not on how many years I was wasting. And the time I crashed, was quick, it all felt like minutes.

What is time? Time has nothing to do with a clock. Time is the velocity at which I experienced the events of my life. Although the events of my life could have been timed on a clock, the speed at which I processed them was in my own time, sometimes faster and sometimes slower.

Life was like a string being quickly pulled through a ring. I was the ring and the events of my life were pulled through me faster than I could process them. I was dead before I was born. I possibly existed for a fraction of a second, made all the decisions I needed to make and died with only the lengthy processing of memories left to experience.

When I met my Amber, time was given meaning. I enjoyed time. But now without her I may suffer for all time. Time is nothing without love.

He screams from the depths of his soul, “Amber ... come back!”

There is silence.

Suddenly the clown appears. “Have a bad trip, Nu-nu?” Laughter.

Newman is angry now.

“How do I get my wife back, tell me!”

“Very difficult Nu-nu. Very, very difficult.”

“I will do anything, please.”

“Nu-nu, you showed that you would kill for love, but will you die for love?”

“What?”

“There is only one way, that you can go back, but it is very, very risky.”

“Yes … “

“You have to die and enter the spirit world. And you may stay there forever, with no hope of ever seeing your wife again.”

“It is worth the risk. Anything. Please.”

The clown takes a large golden key out of his pocket, and holds it in the palm of his hand.

This is the key to your afterlife. All you must do is take it out of my hand, and you will die to what you know, and enter the world of the spirit. There are no guarantees that you will ever come back, and you may never see Amber again.”

“I want to try.”

“Be sure of what you are doing, Newman.”

Newman reaches forward and takes the key.

The ground starts shaking. There is a bright flash of flames. The clown disappears, and then there is darkness.”

Chapter eleven

There are stirring sounds. Everything is black, but he is not alone, there is an existence. He is in a void, but there is a pulsating vibration. Amidst the space there are sounds and feelings. The moving lights and sounds are souls. They are moving past him. They are moving around him, and stopping. They stop next to one another and there is almost an exchange of some sort and then they hurry on again. He can feel their spirits - their beings. A coloured light will flash with the sound of voices and suddenly he can feel the true nature of that soul. Calmness, serenity, and love - these feelings are moving about around him.

Newman is witnessing what all people ultimately experience. It feels like a bustling market. A whole lot of different beings with different feelings bumping into one another, momentarily exchanging some sort of emotion, and then moving on. But what are these souls exchanging and what message are they communicating to one another?

They are not communicating in any language, they are communicating through feelings. Newman sees a soul scurrying up. It stops quickly and hovers around. Newman suddenly feels a sensation, and is taken away into a new dimension. He sees himself sitting at a table and there is a woman baking bread at the oven - preparing the food with love. The bread smells good. The woman turns around and smiles, "Dinner will be ready soon." Newman doesn't recognise her, but he feels profoundly safe. Everything goes black again.

There is bustling and another soul approaches him. Its movements are a little different to the previous one. It scurries along, almost in a shuffle, and stops directly in front of him. He feels himself floating, and sees himself in a room. It is a century long past now; he is a child opening a present. He is poor, and in an orphanage. There is a man standing next him who says, "Happy Birthday". Opening the small box, he finds a coin. The excitement wells up. Everything fades. Back in the darkness the sounds can again be heard.

What is happening to me?

The pulsating and colours of the souls continue. There is a bright red soul that is moving quickly through the mass. It stops next to Newman as if sniffing him and then darts off. There are bright souls, dim souls, darting souls and slow, cumbersome souls and they are all moving around with a purpose. There are sounds that could be sobbing or they could be laughing. Newman tries to talk, but can't say a word.

Amidst the thrusting of the souls and clutter he cannot move. He does not know how to. He remembers Amber, and is suddenly cast forward towards a blue light. The more he feels her love, the faster he goes. The blue light gets closer and closer, until it is glaring in front of him. It begins flashing with brilliance. The soul before him is absorbing something.

It is absorbing his memory. It continues flickering for a while and then heads off, only this time it looks a little brighter. In the darkness there are many souls of different colours and shapes. They are all in the centre and are scurrying around one another. The only way to move is to feel the calm memory of Amber. Remembering her love, he propels forward towards the activity. The sounds are loud now, as the lights flash past him like fireflies.

A yellowish light approaches suddenly, and another one quickly joins it. A new memory beckons him. He is swimming in a river and can see someone else. It is his brother. He is splashing his brother with water and the more he splashes the more the laughter there is. Newman feels carefree and happy. His clothes are hanging on a wooden gate not so far away. The sun is shining brightly and he wants the moment to last forever. Everything vanishes and he is swept back to the cluster. The two yellow lights flutter off.

The lights dance in harmony together almost as if to beautiful music. They flow and sway amongst one another in an understanding. Newman looks towards the humming souls and notices that they are all trying to get to the centre of the bustle.

What are they trying to get to?

Newman meditates on his memories and is propelled through the lights and sounds towards the cluster. The closer he gets the busier it is around him. There is a bright white shining light from the centre. The light, now frantic, as they all seem to be, is trying to get to the middle. A turquoise light stops in his way bringing him to a halt. Newman can feel himself being drawn into a hospital. There is a newborn baby resting close to him. He is holding the infant close, overwhelmed by joy. The wrapped baby is crying. There is incredible emotion and joy. The scene vanishes. He tries to speak. This time words can be heard:

"Where am I?"

A voice answers, "You are where you have been heading your whole life. You are at the summit of souls, the collection of beings. Look around you. Does it not make sense? You suffered a lot in life. You suffered the death of your loved ones. You suffered the pain of sickness. All the hardships that life cast on you were all momentary. You were destined to come here, where there is no suffering. You remembered your love. Her beauty gave you hope, and that is what kept you going on your journey to where you are now.

Around you are other spirits of people that lived and died. They too had precious memories, a place deep in their souls where they turned to in times of heartache. It is when people turn to those memories that they turn to me. I am those memories. I am the hope that all people are given in life. I am the light that shines in the darkness. In man's darkest hour I am there. In your darkest hour, I was revealed to you through the beauty of creation. I was by your side, and the more peaceful you found yourself becoming, the closer you were drawn to me - to this existence.

"What are all these lights and sounds around me?"

"They are souls and they are driven by the energy of their thoughts and memories. All people have a place deep in their hearts that will always bring them comfort. And here the only force and energy is the happiness of those memories. Here you will share the hope that has kept mankind going for all of time. Here only I exist, through the comfort that I manifested on mankind."

"What must I do here?"

"Here you will share with others the happiness that got you through your suffering. You will also experience the beauty that every soul here experienced in their lives. You will experience the happy memories of all the souls around you. You will experience my manifestation on man - the gift of peace and hope that I gave to them. And you will experience all of this without suffering and without pain - for eternity.

“Is it possible for me to go back?”

“Here is the place that man aspires to. All men want the peace and harmony of my existence. There is nothing back there for you anymore.”

“I love a woman. And I cannot be complete in your light until I am with her. I tried to prove I loved her by killing for her. But now I have died for her, and she will never know. I need her to know to be fulfilled. I cannot exist otherwise.”

There is silence.

“Very few would turn their back on this place. Even fewer would die for love. I cannot promise you your place here will be secured if you go back to your love”

“It is what I want to do.”

There is silence.

“Your destiny belongs to you.”

The light disappears and there is darkness.

Chapter twelve

Newman sees a light. He is waking up. He doesn’t know where he is. The clown is gone now. He is not in the void anymore. He is in a hospital. He is alive. It is a new day. He is lying in a bed. He tries to look around, but everything is a little blurred. He notices that there is a bandage wrapped tightly around his head. He is not in pain.

A nurse walks in. “Oh, you are awake, Mister Blake. How do you feel?”

She starts fiddling with some machinery.

“Where am I?”

“You are in hospital love; you have been in a terrible accident. Are you in pain?

Newman replies sluggishly, “No, what happened to me?”

There is a rapid knock on the door as a Doctor enters the room and walks up to the bed.

“How do you feel, Mister Blake?”

The nurse responds, “He isn’t in any pain and his vitals are fine.”

“What is his pulse, sister?”

“Eighty-five, it stabilized overnight.”

The doctor sits on a chair next to the bed. “Mr. Blake, you were in a car accident and you injured your head. Do you remember anything?”

“I don’t remember anything. Where is my wife?”

The Doctor cuts him short, “Why don’t you get some rest and we can talk later?”

Newman yells, “Where is my wife? Tell me now.”

“Mister Blake, I have some very grave news.”

Time pauses as if for hours.

“Your wife was in the car with you, and I am sorry Mr. Blake she didn’t make it.”

“That’s impossible. It must be a mistake. It must be a mistake. She has to be here.”

“I am sorry Mister Blake she didn’t make it.”

Newman leans over and vomits violently. The nurse rushes to his assistance.

“No, oh no.”

“Sister, give him a tranquilizer. Why don’t you rest for a while, Newman? I will come past later.”

The nurse gives him an injection. He falls asleep.

A little later he wakes up and gets out of bed. He gets a glass of water. He sips the water, and then it all comes back to him. He drops the glass to the ground, and then grasps his head as if in pain.

The nurse comes in. She is followed by someone.

“Oh, you dropped the glass,” she says.

She picks it up

“Mr. Blake this is Dr Shirley, she is a psychiatrist, and she is here to chat to you.”

“Hello Mister Blake. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

Newman moans, “No.”

“Why don’t you lie down?” she says.

She helps him to his bed and sits next to him.

Mister Blake I am very sorry about what happened, and I am here to talk to you and see if there is anything I can do to help you. Do you follow any religion? Perhaps, I can get priest or rabbi to come and see you?”

Newman is silent.

“Are you in any pain?”

“My chest is heavy, and I feel dizzy”.

“The nurse will give you something for that later.”

“How did the accident happen?”

“You were driving on a busy road and there was a tractor without lights that came out of a side road. You braked, but it was too late. Your car crashed into the side of the tractor and then rolled down an embankment, where you were picked up by the ambulances. Your wife died instantly.”

Newman holds his hands over his face and mumbles, “I never bought the telescope.”

“Sorry”

“I promised my wife I would buy her a telescope and I never did. I told her I would get it for Christmas, and now I can never buy it for her.”

There are tears running down his face.

“I’m sure she knew how much you loved her.”

Newman gets angry: “No, leave me alone. She never knew.”

“I was too busy with my own life to show her.”

“I never told her. And now I never can.”

Newman: “Do you know how that feels?”

She responds, “I’m sure that over time she knew how much you loved her, it’s easy to remember the dreadful things you did at times like this.”

Newman is really upset now: “I can never get her back. I can never get those moments I missed back. Why … why?”
The Doctor comforts Newman: “Its ok, it's ok.”

“My chest feels so heavy. I want to sleep.”

She makes the pillow comfortable: “Rest now I will come and see you later.”

Newman goes to sleep.

After some time, he wakes up.

The nurse comes in with breakfast. “Good morning, I have brought you some breakfast.”

Newman is irritated: “I am not hungry”.

“Now, now mister Blake you must eat something.”

She puts the tray on his bed: “Its poached egg and toast”

He is furious and violently throws the tray against the wall: “I said I am not hungry. Its people like you who I hate. You are always trying to pretend everything is fine.”

“Mister Blake, just calm down.”

He sits up: “You come in here and give me this food. Who do you think you are trying to pretend nothing has happened? Can’t you see what I am going through?”

He shouts: “Get out! I said get out!”

She takes a step back as Dr. Shirley comes rushing in.

“What’s happening in here?”

The nurse tries to speak but she is interrupted by Newman shouting. “This stupid nurse is trying to pretend that nothing happened. Get her out of here!”

“Why did this have to happen to me? Why? Why? Why me?”

“I proved myself. I did.”

The Doctor tries to comfort him.

“What did I do? Why do I deserve this?”

He gets angrier, "Dammit.”

“Try calm down Mr. Blake and have some rest.”

He shouts at her, “Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you have any idea what I am going through? You can walk out of here and go back to your happy life. Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”

He is screaming now, “How can she die? How can she do this to me? God tell me how she can do this to me.”

Dr Shirley responds, “I am sure she is in God’s hands now.”

“How can God let this happen? It’s not fair.”

Newman starts to get upset again: “I should never have crashed.”

Newman sobs: “Just leave me alone please…please.”

The Doctor leaves.

He gets up and walks to the window and looks out.

“God please I have never asked you for anything, but I am praying to you now and I am asking. Give me Amber back and I promise you I will be a good husband. Just give me one more chance and I will make it up. Please. I will do anything. Just tell me God what you want me to do? Amber was the most beautiful and precious person that I ever had. She was there for me all the time and I didn’t notice. I am asking just one thing God. Please give her back to me”.

He gets on his knees: “Please”

“I will give anything just to smell my wife’s perfume again and tell her I love her. What must I do?”

The Doctor and nurse come into the room again.

“Mister Blake”.

He sits down on the end of the bed.

“Doctor I have something to ask you.”

“Yes”

“I want you to kill me. Give an injection or something.”

Doctor Shirley responds, “I know times like this can be difficult, but you will see that things will get better as time goes on. Time will heal you Newman.”

“I am the one to blame for her death and I want to die. I can’t come to terms with it. I want to die, and if you don’t kill me. I will do it myself.”

“Mister Blake, there is something I want to show you. Sister please help him.”

She takes him by the hand and walks with him down the stairs. They go into a room.

The doctor says, “Newman, I want you to watch this video”.

A video comes onto the screen.

Newman watches. It is himself on the screen.

“Hi Newman. Yes, it’s you. Or should I say me. You are probably wondering why you are watching yourself on video. Well that’s a good question. You don’t remember making this video, do you? I didn’t think so. Well, let me explain. Up until a couple of weeks ago you were bored. You wanted something new. Something different. A new kick. It was your birthday coming up and you wanted a present that you would never forget. So, Newman, you went to the Amgo Corporation where you are now and you signed this contract.”

He holds up a piece of paper.

“See Newman - black and white. Here is your signature. You paid money and you asked them to give you a memory drug. It’s called Pesorbitine and it erases your short-term memory. You have been asleep for the last three days. That’s why you don’t remember the accident. You wanted a new kick and here it is Newman. Your wife never died. You paid the Amgo Corporation to tell you she had.”

His head slams back in shock.

“Newman for your birthday I am giving you something you will never forget. I am giving you your life back.

“Happy birthday!”

The video switches off.

Dr Shirley opens the door and there standing in the doorway is Amber. He starts sobbing hysterically, and runs to her.

He wraps his arms around her, and feels her warm embrace, as he weeps and weeps.

Time pauses.

There is a loud and demented bellow of laughter from the clown echoing into the distance.

The End.

Table of Contents

- Chapter one
- Chapter two
- Chapter three
- Chapter four
- Chapter five
- Chapter six
- Chapter seven
- Chapter eight
- Chapter nine
- Chapter ten
- Chapter eleven
- Chapter twelve