I was very surprised when I died. You might think from that statement that I was surprised at the truck that came roaring down Wall Street and hit me smack on my keister, throwing me against a lamp pole with such force that my body looked like a pretzel. The driver had been distracted by some cigarette ash that fell on his lap, and happened to look down just at the wrong moment, while I was stepping out from the curb on my way to lunch.

It wasn’t the truck, really. I remember feeling irritated to find myself being flung through the air. I even felt angry at the poor driver, who had by this time come crashing to a stop against a grey minivan. I’m sure his life was never the same after that, even though it wasn’t really his fault. I didn’t look before I stepped into the street, because I was distracted by the lottery ticket I was holding in my hand. I always bought a lottery ticket before lunch, in my ongoing efforts to win the big one.

No, the surprise came flooding through me when I looked at my body sliding down the lamp post and realized that I was looking at it from the sidewalk, where I was obviously still very much in an upright position. It was indeed bewildering.

I was a stockbroker in New York City, and largely ignored religion. I didn’t scoff at it; I just didn’t have much time for it. I was an overweight, single white male in my late thirties with eclectic interests, but the after life wasn’t one of them. If I had ever thought about what happened after death at all, my conclusions would have been very vague.

But there I was, dressed impeccably in my Brooks Brother’s suit and my power tie, surrounded by a gathering crowd of New Yorkers who were staring in fascination at a very broken mess that must have been me, skewed like unhinged scissors at the foot of the lamp post. Among murmurs of “Gawd, did you see that!” and “Is he dead?” and “Of course he is, stoopid!” I stood entirely dazed and confused. And surprised.

“Feeling fuzzy, are we?”

A man standing next to me was looking at me, smiling.

“You can see me?” I asked.

“Of course,” he replied.

I waved my hand at the crowd around me. “But they cannot!” I leaned forward and spoke to a woman in front of me, but she ignored me, and continued to gawk at my corpse. Turning back to the man, I said, “See?”

He nodded. “Yes, I see.” He took my arm and squeezed it. “It’s because they are not dead.”

My face must have gotten a bit pale, because he squeezed my arm again, which I found strangely comforting. “I’m dead?”

“Yep.” He was a matter of fact kind of fellow, it seemed.

I have to admit that the noise of the crowd and the New York traffic faded away after that. My mind was in a whirl, thinking about appointments that I would miss, movies I wouldn’t see and girls I would never meet. It all seemed terribly unfair.

“We have to go.” The man was tugging at my arm, interrupting my delicious self pity.

“Go where?” I said.

“Do you like carnival rides?” he asked.

Before I could reply, the streets of New York were far below me, and we were zooming toward an opening in the sky. Having been afraid of heights my whole life, I started to tremble, and considered quivering in dismay, but my guide didn’t seem to notice. All of a sudden, we plunged into the opening, and started moving up a tunnel. It was pitch black and very warm and very quiet. I could no longer feel my guide’s hand on my arm. In fact, I felt nothing at all except a sense of tremendously fast movement. I began to feel more relaxed, as if I was in a very hot bath. The feeling of relaxation increased as the movement continued, and I let out an audible sigh of contentment. It had been a stressful morning. Just as I was wondering how long the tunnel ride would last, I spied a glimmer of light ahead and with a kerplunk! I was sitting on a grassy hill overlooking a river.

Looking around for my guide, I found him sitting next to me, calmly chewing on a long piece of grass. With an impish grin, he pointed across the river and said, “Look, there’s the city.”

I looked, and saw a city crowded with spires and towers, with a large hill or ridge running through its center. As I turned back to my guide, I was startled by a shadow skimming across the hill. Glancing up, I saw a long, oblong vehicle of some sort flying in the direction of the city. It was completely silent, and very sleek looking.

My jaw must have dropped because he laughed and stood up, reaching down to help me up. “It’s quite different here, but you’ll get used to it. Shall we get some lunch? You must be hungry since that truck got to you before you could eat.”

He suddenly jumped straight up into the air, and since he was holding my arm, I jumped with him, without really wanting to. My fear of heights came flooding back and I felt very distressed as we found ourselves going higher and higher without any sign of slowing down.

He noticed my fear, and squeezed my arm more firmly, which calmed me immediately. He had some kind of power in his hands, of that I was becoming sure. We sped upward until we must have been a hundred stories up. Then, without so much as a quiver of a muscle from my guide, we stopped and just hung there, stationary, far above the fields below.

“What a view, eh?” he asked, as he waved his free arm around the horizon.

It was indeed. As far as I could see, there were beautiful rolling hills, covered here and there with tracts of woods, interspersed by streams and lakes. Far off in the distance on one side, I saw what looked like the glimmer of an ocean. Turning with him to look the other way, I was awed by the city we had seen from the field below. It didn’t seem particularly large, but I was struck immediately by a feeling of harmony.

Staring at my guide, I asked, “We’re going there?”

“Yes, to be sure,” he said. Without a moment’s hesitation, we started floating in the direction of the city.

Not being able to control my questions any longer, I started with what to me seemed the most obvious. “How come we can fly? And if we can fly, why would you need that flying vehicle I just saw?”

“We can fly because this is the spirit world; the world where everything responds to thought. The laws of nature are different here.” He pointed to the city as we approached it rapidly. There were many vehicles darting here and there, very much like birds. “People use vehicles for many reasons. Even though they can fly individually, sometimes people want to carry things with them, or just be together in a group as they travel, and sit back and take it easy. It’s common sense, really.”

As he spoke, we glided softly down onto a lawn outside of a large white building. I felt quite relieved as my feet touched the ground. My next question just tumbled out.

“Are you an angel?”

My guide let out a cracking laugh. “No, I’m not an angel. I suppose they could have sent an angel, but they thought I could do the job just fine. I’m a man, like you, except that I came here from the physical world a very long time ago. Time enough to learn a few things.”

He walked me over to a small stone bench, and we sat. I was startled but overjoyed to see a magnificent blue heron fly slowly by.

My guide smiled, and said, “You like herons don’t you? I heard that about you, so I arranged for one.”

My mouth was open quite wide as I said, “You know things about me? How?”

“So many questions! All in good time.”

We sat in the sun for a few moments, and I soaked in the warmth entering my body. After awhile, I began to feel hot sitting there in my suit, and started to loosen my tie. Noticing my discomfort, my guide gently waved his hand and suddenly I was covered with a long white robe. My oh so fashionable suit was nowhere to be seen. He grinned at my surprise and patted my shoulder.

“Would you prefer trousers and a shirt?” he asked. “Robes are not the only things people wear here, you know. People wear whatever they want, from whatever era of clothing they like. Fashion is no longer a tyrant. In fact, no one would mind if you preferred being naked, or half dressed. In this realm, the beauty of the body is seen as a fashion accessory; something to be highlighted, not ashamed of.”

Curious about my guide’s attire, I looked at him a bit more clearly than I had before. He seemed to be in his late twenties, but he also had an air about him of great age. He was rather handsome, although his nose was a bit squidgy. He was clean shaven, with long hair that was braided down his back. He was wearing a very elegant lace shirt with crimson trim, and comfortable looking trousers. His clothes gave him the look of a bohemian artist. It was his eyes however, that grabbed my attention. They were a rich brown color and were the warmest eyes I had ever seen. I just wanted to keep looking at him, but then he laughed and broke the spell.

Stammering slightly, I said, “I like what you’re wearing.” In an instant, without even waving his hand, my attire changed. Looking down, I was very impressed. “Can you make my pants a dark blue?” He grinned, and it was done.

Turning this way and that, I suddenly realized that my overly large stomach was gone. I’m not sure if my abs were rippling, but my stomach was as flat as I could have asked for. Scratching my head in amazement, I was even more started to feel hair on top of  my head. It had been thinning since I was in my twenties, and it felt very strange indeed. Welcome, but strange.

He laughed at my antics, and said, “That’s one reason nakedness is not an issue. In the upper spirit world our bodies are fit and beautiful to look at. The other reason it’s not a problem is that we have purified our minds.”

 I stood up and stretched and felt very pleased with my new, improved body. Looking down at my guide, I said, “I feel really great! My left knee doesn’t hurt, and my headache is gone. This is amazing!”

“Yes, it is,” he replied. He stood also, and turned toward the building behind us. “Let’s walk to the other side of this building. There’s a park there, and we can have lunch.”

I nodded, and we proceeded to walk along a pathway. As I looked at my guide, I said, “You still haven’t told me your name. You probably know mine, I guess.”

He looked at me kindly. “Of course, I do, Edward. My name is Rhys. I was born in what you now call Wales, before the Romans came.”

“You are Welsh!” I exclaimed. “I have some Welsh blood.”

“Yes, indeed. Your family name of Wild is a good Welsh name.”

My mind was in a whirl as we arrived at the park on the other side. “Are we related?”

Rhys chuckled. “Yes, you’re one of my many descendants. A good one, I might add, although you do have a number of faults.”

I murmured something, embarrassed by his assessment. We walked for awhile in silence. The park was on top of a ridge that stretched from one end of the city to the other, with each half of the city sloping down to a plain a short distance below. Thus, from any point on the ridge, one could view the entire city. There were trees and gardens everywhere, running in tendrils in between the buildings, with foot paths and grassy lawns in abundance. I was curious to see that there were no roads, and when I asked Rhys about this fact, he shrugged, and said, “Look up. Our roads are in the air. Pavement is rather ugly, don’t you think?”

I nodded, and said I was glad to see that paradise hadn’t been turned into a parking lot. Rhys looked puzzled. “A parking lot?” he asked.

“Oh, it was just a song, that’s all. It’s what we do on the earth these days.”

He nodded. “Ah, yes. It’s the unfortunate result of ground-based vehicles. In the future, as you can see here, flying vehicles will eliminate that problem.”

As I gazed at the city below I could see that he was right. There were vehicles of all sorts, flying at many different altitudes. Some skimmed at tree top level and then descended until they were just a foot above the lawns, so that their passengers could embark or disembark. Others floated and maneuvered high above the city; many at tremendous speeds. As I watched the vehicles flitting over the city, I noticed two rather amazing things. They were all completely silent, without any discernable means of propulsion. Most incredible of all, to my mind, was that they didn’t seem to follow a pattern of roadways. I couldn’t tell if they were following a three dimensional grid, or any pattern at all. They seemed more like a flock of birds, darting wherever they wanted to.

Rhys was watching me study the vehicles, amused at my puzzlement. “You are wondering why they don’t crash.”

“You read my mind,” I said.

“Yes, I did, actually,” he replied. As he saw my consternation, he hastily added, “But don’t worry — telepathy is guided here by love, and is never used to harm others or invade their privacy. People have the ability to make their thoughts private if they wish to. Most of the time, they don’t need to, because among friends telepathy is more convenient than speech. With telepathy, you can communicate in pictures as well as words.”

He waved at a sleek looking vehicle that was hovering above a garden path a short distance way. “But to answer your question, take that vehicle for example.”

I looked at it as he pointed. It was large enough to hold about a dozen people very comfortably. It had no wheels, and was smooth on its underside. It was a pale yellow color and had a long window stretching around its entire circumference. I could see comfortable chairs and even what looked like a couch through the window. The vehicle was empty except for its pilot.

“What is it doing?” I asked curiously. “What is it for?”

“It’s a form of public transport,” Rhys answered. “It flies back and forth between this section of the park and the far end of the city, picking people up whenever there’s a need.”

He pointed at a small group of people who were approaching the vehicle. The pilot saw them, and a set of steps suddenly expanded like an accordion and gently touched the ground so they could climb aboard.

The passengers boarded, and the craft ascended vertically a few hundred feet, and then rapidly sped away. I watched it disappear in the distance with fascination. I wanted to ask Rhys a million questions about flight and propulsion and guidance systems, but he forestalled my questions with a smile.

“In the spirit world, we can travel at the speed of thought, or as slowly as we wish. Thus, our vehicles here are much more powerful than any physical vehicle could possibly be. We control their movement by the power of concentrated thought that is so habitual it becomes second nature. Much like brushing one’s teeth. But it’s now time for lunch, and time for me to introduce you to a friend.”

Rhys turned and guided me toward a gazebo next to a large oak tree.

There was a man sitting at a table in the gazebo, reading a newspaper. He stood up politely as we approached and extended his hand to Rhys and then to me. He was very kind looking and sported a large handle bar mustache.

“Hello, Rhys,” he said. He turned to me and smiled. “None the worse for wear, Edward?”

Rhys grinned at my confusion and said, “This is Dr. Albert Schweitzer, one of my very best friends.”

My surprise must have been comical, because they both laughed.

“Where do you think famous people go after they die?” Rhys asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” I answered. I looked at Schweitzer curiously. “I never thought I’d meet you, Doctor, I have to admit.”

He waved his hand deprecatingly. “Please call me Albert.”

We all sat down, and Rhys surprised me once again when he waved his hand and plates of food appeared on the table. There were many types of fruit, and a large selection of sushi. Dr. Schweitzer folded up his newspaper and put it next to his plate. I was amazed to see that the photo of a young woman on the front page was moving. She was turning from side to side with a questioning look on her face.

“I’m kind of in shock, I think,” I said. “This seems awfully similar to a Harry Potter movie crossed with Star Trek.”

Dr. Schweitzer handed me a slice of mango as he answered. “Yes, I’ve heard of them. People on earth might be surprised to find that the reality here is even more fantastic than those fictional worlds.”

I pointed at the newspaper and the photo of the girl. “I saw something just like that in the Harry Potter movies.”

Schweitzer nodded. “Indeed. If you open certain textbooks here, you can view real-time recordings of every incident that ever happened in history, from multiple points of view.”

Rhys picked up the newspaper and looked at Schweitzer. “May I tell Edward about this?” he asked. Schweitzer nodded. Rhys took a deep breath and looked at me gravely. I suddenly felt nervous, and sat up straighter.

“Edward, we realize that you must still be in shock to find yourself dead so unexpectedly.”

“Yes, I am,” I replied.

“After lunch, I will take you to your lodgings, where you’ll have a chance to think. You’ll also have a chance to have what we call a life review. You’ll see everything that ever happened to you, and everything you ever did, and how it affected you and those around you. Some of it will be pleasant, and some of it will be very hard to watch, I’m sure.”

Dr. Schweitzer was watching me closely, as Rhys continued.

“You’re a good man, Edward, but you have many things to overcome. Albert suggested that I invite you to work with us in our mission because he was impressed when I told him about your kindness toward people. I’ve told him how warmly you treat people, and how honest you are. He liked that. But...”

I think I must have looked nervous, because Rhys patted my arm. “Your weaknesses are going to make it hard for you, sometimes, Edward,” he said. “Your gambling addiction is very bad. You’ve wasted a great deal of time in your life at the card table, and lost very large sums. Wasting a life is not considered a virtue here.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it again when I looked at Rhys’s eyes. There was no fooling him.

Dr. Schweitzer pointed at the photo of the girl. “Rhys and I, and many others, are part of an effort to help people from the lower realms when they demonstrate a desire to change. This girl is named Molly. She has been imprisoned in a seventeenth century tavern in the lower realms for four hundred years. For many years she didn’t know she was dead. She arrived in the spiritual world after she drank herself to death. Her alcoholism blinded her, and until quite recently, she was satisfied to live in the tavern, drinking and gaming. Something must have changed in her heart recently, for we received this alert that she wants to leave her way of life.”

I must have looked quite dazed, because Dr. Schweitzer handed me another piece of mango. After a few minutes of hard thinking, I asked, “But why me? I’m not the saving people type.”

Rhys looked at me very seriously and said, “You certainly haven’t been yet. You’re quite a mixture, Edward. You have many good people in your lineage who interceded for you. The task fell to me to help you find your way in this world. As you’ll see, everything here is based on serving others and living lives of compassion and love. I’m hoping that you’ll work with us, and by so doing, grow in the process. You will be frequently challenged by your shortcomings. It’s your heart of kindness, however, that has allowed me to bring you here today. Kindness is one of the greatest virtues.”

“May I think about it?” I asked.

Rhys and Dr. Schweitzer looked at me carefully and nodded in agreement. Dr. Schweitzer held out his hand and said, “Rhys will take you to your lodgings. Let us know soon.”

Rhys and I stood and he took my arm. As Dr. Schweitzer waved, our surroundings flickered, and Rhys and I were standing at the door of a small one room cottage, nestled in a grove of poplar trees.

Rhys opened the door, and we went it. It was very small, but clean and neat, with a bed, a table and a soft easy chair next to a window. “These are your lodgings for now, Edward,” Rhys said. “A person’s house is determined by heart and merit. This is your starting point.”

As I gazed around the room, I felt chagrined. My apartment in Manhattan had been swank, and decked out with all the best technology. By contrast, the cottage seemed positively medieval.

“No Internet? No television or telephone? How do I communicate? What do I do every day?”

“This is where you can think and reflect,” Rhys replied. “And make a decision about our offer.”

“What happens if I say no?” I asked.

“Nothing at all,” he said. “You don’t have to do anything in this world that you don’t want to do. This house is not your punishment. There is no punishment here. It’s simply a reflection of who you are, inside.”

“Who I am?” I exclaimed. “I didn’t live in a hovel in Manhattan.”

“Not physically, no. But your life was internally small. You were kind, but you didn’t make enough effort. You didn’t extend enough to others. But think — you loved poplar trees when you were young. You loved their beauty and the sunlight glancing through their leaves. As you saw, you have them here with you now.”

Rhys walked to the door and then turned and said, “I’ll be back when you want to see me. Just ask me to come, in your thoughts, or say it aloud, and I’ll come as soon as I can. If you’re hungry or thirsty, just think of food and something will appear on your table there.” With a smile, he was gone, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, feeling like a very small, very lost child.

•  •  •

I had expected the evening to come, and was wondering what to do for lights in the cottage. Much to my surprise, evening didn’t come. It remained a warm, sunny afternoon, and I completely lost track of how many hours or days went by. After Rhys left, I slumped into the easy chair by the window, feeling quite sorry for myself. While sitting there, I fell asleep, or so it seemed, and suddenly found myself in the midst of what must have been the life review that Rhys had spoken of. It was very uncomfortable indeed; although not wholly so. Everything I had ever done, and everything I had ever thought or felt, went scrolling across my mind’s eye, at what seemed like supersonic speed. There was a curious warmth present in the experience; a gentle breath on my cheek that seemed to say what I should have done, at each unfortunate incident of my life. When a good incident passed before me, that very same gentle presence affirmed the goodness that had existed in my life. When it was finished, I felt overwhelmed.

With so much to think about, I started to roam the land around the cottage, exploring my new home. There were fields and trees and a stream or two, but no other habitations in sight. I spotted some deer, and a fox, and found it curious that they didn’t run as I approached them. They just stood there until I came quite close, and then ambled off, as if to say, “We’ll talk some other time.”

Every once in awhile, I felt hungry, and when I did so, and tried to visualize a meal appearing in front of me, I was quite excited to see bread and cheese and fruit shimmer into existence. The cheese reminded me of Gouda, but it tasted even better. Once I had eaten, I was very relieved to discover that bathrooms no longer seemed to be necessary. Quite an improvement, I thought.

Crossing a stream one day — if a day is what I should call it, for it was simply an extension of the same beautiful afternoon, I decided to go swimming. I stripped off my clothes and dove into the water and was immediately bathed in the most exhilarating feeling of refreshment that I had ever experienced. When I walked out of the stream, the water rolled off my body, leaving me completely dry and clean and utterly invigorated.

I tried my hand at flying, but lacked confidence and abandoned the attempt. I don’t know how much time had passed, but as I lay on my back under the stand of poplar trees, with the sun pouring down on my body, I decided to accept the mission that Rhys and Dr. Schweitzer had offered to me. Perhaps it was the peace of the day, or perhaps it was the memory of the girl in the photo, with her look of yearning and despair, but I felt that I couldn’t simply hang around by myself any longer. I half expected Rhys to appear next to me immediately, but he didn’t, so I walked back to the cottage and lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

•  •  •

When Rhys knocked on the cottage door, I was munching on something resembling a plum. Wiping the juice from my chin, I opened the door and welcomed him inside. I was very happy to see him. After a few moments of conversation, and with nothing to take with me except myself, we left on our journey. He chose flight this time, and I was fascinated as we flew across the countryside. From the air, I could see that there were small cottages every few miles. It seemed that people in this area of the spirit world all lived alone. I asked him where we were going, but he just smiled and didn’t answer. We flew on, and I saw in front of us a thick mist. I felt resistance as I approached it, and my breathing became labored. Rhys rubbed me between the shoulder blades and warmth spread through my body. As he did so, the resistance subsided, and we passed easily through the fog into a realm that was strikingly more beautiful than the one we had left. We continued on, and in this fashion,  passed through many realms, all more beautiful than the one below.

Coming to a halt in one of them, I saw the same city in the distance that Rhys had taken me to on the day I died. It was a long way off, and I glanced at him curiously. He pointed to a hill top below us, on which sat a very large white house, surrounded by groves of trees. Descending to it, we landed on the doorstep just as the door opened. A tall and elegant woman stood there, smiling at both of us, although I suspect that her smile toward Rhys was warmer than it was toward me. She had flaming red hair that reached to her waist. She was dressed in a diaphanous pale blue gown that revealed a stunningly beautiful body. I have to admit that I felt completely flustered, although I could see why Rhys had said that the body was a fashion accessory. Then the woman smiled at me, with eyes that were deep and warm and loving. My embarrassment completely disappeared and the only feeling I had left was one of safety.

She embraced Rhys then, kissing him on the lips, and led us both inside. Rhys turned to me and said, “Edward, this is my wife, Isobel.”

Isobel took my hand and just looked at me again, until I became utterly lost in her eyes. She smiled and said, “Rhys has told me all about you. Welcome to our home.”

I felt rather faint, and said something silly. She turned to Rhys and said, “The others are waiting. Shall we join them?”

We walked through the house, which was filled with plants and paintings and books and beautiful wooden furniture. I felt like I had lived there all my life. We entered the kitchen, which was very large, and had a floor to ceiling window on one wall, with sunlight streaming through it. Seated around a wooden table were two men and a woman. When we entered they rose, and Rhys introduced me to them. There was Lucio, a thin, wiry Italian who said that he was born in the year 1465 and had been an apprentice to Leonardo da Vinci when the great master had worked for Lodovico Sforza in Milan. I itched to ask him about da Vinci, but reluctantly refrained. Then there was Scatman, a jazz singer from 1930’s Harlem. He was a very funny person with a wide, warm smile, and wanted to know if I’d been to 125th Street. I said that I had, but not often. The woman’s name was Yumiko. She had been a pearl diver in ancient Japan, and was very vivacious. They all seemed delighted to meet me. Our meeting was brief, for Rhys wanted to leave immediately on our mission. They assured me that they would fill me in on the details of our rescue attempt as we traveled into the lower realms.

With a good-bye to Isobel, we climbed into a sleek looking craft. I was surprised that we were traveling by vehicle, but Rhys told me that it was simpler for the type of operation we were engaged in. He sat down in the front, and waited until we were all seated. Without a sound the craft shot into the air and moved so rapidly that I couldn’t see the scenery as we traveled. All that I could tell was that we seemed to be descending, into darker and darker realms.

The gathering darkness reminded me of a question that I had meant to ask Rhys. Turning to him, I said, “I felt very disoriented at my cottage, because it never got dark. Don’t the upper realms have both day and night?”

“No,” he replied. “Once you get used to it, it makes sense. Because we don’t have physical bodies that get tired, we don’t need to waste one third of our time sleeping.”

“What about the beauty of the stars, and building campfires under the moon?”

Scatman piped in with a chuckle. “And singing around the campfire too, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, things like that.”

“For that type of thing, we can go to special areas, like certain mountain tops, where nightfall comes,” Scatman said. “We can star gaze and look at the planets as much as we like. It’s a bit complicated to understand the geography, but you’ll like it.”

I looked out of the window of our craft. By this time it was pitch black. “What about this land? Why is it dark here?”

“Light is a product of love in the spirit world,” Rhys replied. “The lower one goes into the realms where love is weaker, the darker it becomes. It also becomes colder, because heat is also a product of the energy of love.”

Suddenly our craft stopped, and Rhys looked at me. “We’re here. Lucio, Yumiko and I will be outside the tavern, as your backup. Scatman will stay with the vehicle. Your job is to go into the tavern and bring Molly out. From there, we’ll help you bring her back to our craft.”

“How will I get her to believe me?” I asked.

“You will have to gain her trust,” Rhys replied. “But be careful how you speak. The people in the tavern are not at all trustworthy. Some of them are quite hostile to interference from our realms. They may try to stop you if they discover your intentions. Therefore, you need to enter and act as if you belong there.”

He handed me a capsule and glass of water. “Here, take this. This will allow you to order drinks and imbibe them without any ill effect. You can then fit in, as if you were a regular tavern goer.”

I swallowed the capsule nervously, as he continued.

“I would recommend sitting quietly for awhile, and watching how things go,” he said. “You’ll recognize her from her photo. When you see her, engage her in some form of small talk. When your instincts tell you the time is right, tell her you’re from the upper realms and have come to help her. Make sure you don’t let anyone hear you. Then just work your way toward the door with her, and walk out. We’ll be waiting outside the door.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

Rhys nodded. “Yes. Her desire to change her lifestyle will give her the power to leave. Your purity of heart will protect you. Just remember that in this world, everything is decided by the power of your thoughts and by the power of your love. Also remember that in this world, your emotions and desires are much more powerful. You must control them and not let them overtake you.”

As I tried to digest his instructions, Yumiko waved her hand, and our attire changed to dark, rough clothing in the style of the common folk of the sixteen hundreds. She held up a mirror for me to see myself, and I was startled to see that my face was darker looking, and crusted with a layer of dirt. My teeth were also quite horrible to look at. I shuddered and wondered what my dentist back on earth would say.

Yumiko smiled, and handed me a heavy pouch of coins. “Here is some money so that you can buy drinks. You may also have to pay the tavern owner for the rest of Molly’s debt, if she owes money for gambling or drinking.”

I thanked her, and then followed her and Rhys and Lucio out of the vehicle. Scatman slapped me on the back as I descended the steps. “Hey, man, we’re right behind you. Don’t worry,” he said. I turned to thank him, and was astonished that I could no longer see him or the craft.

Turning to Rhys, I asked, “Where did it go?”

“Nowhere,” he replied. “It’s still here. We simply placed a cloak around it so the inhabitants here couldn’t see it.”

Looking around, I strained to see anything at all. Gradually, my eyes got used to the darkness, and I made out a very dilapidated building in front of us. It had a sign swinging over the door, with crooked letters written on it that said “Pig’s Trough”. I almost laughed at the name, but then thought better of it, as I sensed a deathly atmosphere of gloom and despair around the building. Rhys and Lucio and Yumiko walked with me to the door, and smiled reassuringly as I pushed it open and entered.

I stood inside the door for a moment to get my bearings. The tavern was surprisingly crowded, and very noisy, which was curious, for outside I had heard nothing. Dim lanterns hung crazily from beams across the ceiling, casting long shadows over tables packed with revelers. At first no one noticed my entrance, until a man sitting at the bar looked up and saw me. Pointing toward me, he shouted at the crowd, “What ho! A newcomer!”

Most of them ignored him, but a few glanced in my direction before going back to their cups. The man struggled to stand up, and came staggering over to me, thrusting his face into mine. He was very ugly, and very menacing.

“Come for a drink, did you?” he said. “Got any money, do you?” He grabbed my arm, and with surprising strength dragged me over to the bar. The bartender was watching me as we approached, and spat into a glass and then wiped it with his apron. Pouring an offensive smelling liquid into it, he handed it to me, and said, “That will be a shilling, my man.”

I fumbled in my pouch and handed the man a coin, having no idea what a shilling looked like. He looked at it and his eyes widened. Cackling, he punched my companion on the shoulder and roared, “Hey Jack! We got ourselves a high roller here!” Chagrined, I realized too late that I had handed him more than a shilling.

Jack stared at me suspiciously and put his nose against mine. “Don’t know your coins, do you? Where are you from, eh?”

“Manhattan,” I said.

“Never heard of it,” he growled. His hand moved slowly down to his side, and rested on a dirk at his belt. Thinking for a moment, he seemed to come to a decision. Looking at me slyly, he put on an affable air. “Drink up, my good man, drink up!”

I stared at the dark, oily liquid in my mug and reluctantly took a sip. It tasted awful, and burned my throat so much that I bent over coughing. The pill must have helped, however, for I didn’t feel the rush that comes from hard liquor. Jack watched me cough, and chortled with laughter. Slapping my back, he took my arm again and led me toward the back of the tavern.

We went down a dark hallway, with torches guttering on the walls. As we approached the back, a door opened, and a woman came out, bearing a tray with empty beer mugs. She looked at me curiously as she walked past us. She was of medium height, with long black hair and pale skin. She was very beautiful, but looked immensely tired, with deep circles under her eyes. I recognized her immediately from her photo. She didn’t seem to like Jack, for as she passed him, she shrank back against the wall as far as she could. His eyes followed her, staring at her. He didn’t lick his lips, though he might as well have. She shuddered at his gaze, and hurried down the hallway.

Turning back to me, he leered and said, “Someday I’ll bed her.”

I tried to look polite as I replied, “You mean you haven’t yet?”

“No!” he growled. “No one has. She won’t let anyone near her. We’ve been getting her drunk for years, which should have worked, but it didn’t.” He sighed, and shook his head. “She’s a difficult one. But I’ll bed her soon, I can feel it.”

He shoved open the door, and we entered a room that was crowded with people gathered around a gaming table. I hadn’t expected the tavern to be so large. Jack guided me up to the table where two men were throwing dice. One of them had a large pile of coins in front of him. He was relaxed, leaning back in his chair and smoking a pipe. He had an air of grimy elegance, as if he had come from wealthy roots, but had forgotten to bathe for a very long time. His gaming partner was obese and sweaty and nervous, coughing repeatedly as he shook the dice.

Jack leaned over to me and whispered, “This is his last throw. If he loses, he’ll be back to the kitchen again where he belongs.”

I watched fascinated, as the man finally gathered his courage and slammed the dice cup upside down on the table. Lifting it, he groaned and rose from his chair, cursing his opponent, who just grinned, and blew a smoke ring after the loser as he fled the room.

When the door slammed shut on the man, Jack grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me into the chair, where I sat stunned. Jack looked around at the crowd and announced, “We have a high roller here! Just arrived from Mantan.”

“Manhattan,” I said.

“Yes,” Jack replied. “Manhattan.” He smiled at me in a peculiar way, making me feel extremely uncomfortable. He picked up the dice cup and rattled the dice in front of my face and then handed me the cup. “It’s your play, Manhattan.”

I looked around at the crowd pressing against the table. They were a scary group of diseased old women and men who looked like thieves and half dressed women of the night. I looked at them and then I looked at the dice in my hand. I thought of Molly waiting for me, and then I stared at the man across from me. His eyes were almost closed as he smoked, and he was smiling at me. It wasn’t a good smile, though. To me, it reeked, and reminded me of the lines from a poem by D. H. Lawrence:

“How nice it is to be superior!

Because really, it’s no use pretending, one is superior, isn’t one?”

I glared at the man, for I hated gamers who thought they were just as superior as I was. Didn’t he know that I was his superior? I hated him more when he just smiled back at me, puffing on his pipe, acting as if he had read D. H. Lawrence too.

Jack handed me a mug of ale and this time I didn’t look to see what was floating in it, as I swigged it down. The man across from me was infuriating to me. As I stared at him, or rather glared at his superciliousness, I felt a strange feeling in my body. The atmosphere of the room grew close and hot and I didn’t hear the titters of the people around the table. I emptied my pouch of coins onto the table and threw the dice cup down. When the man played his round I flung my head back and laughed at him, looking at the crowd for approval, for I had won. The crones and thieves clapped for me, and the whores waggled their bare breasts at me and smiled.

We played for a long time. Jack kept my beer mug full, perhaps thinking that I would drown in my cups. He needn’t have worried, for I found myself drowning in my own frenzy as I gambled. Molly periodically came into the room with fresh ale, but I hardly glanced at her when she did so.

It wasn’t until I watched my last coin being swept up by my opponent that I realized what I had done. I stared at the crowd, who were no longer clapping, and I looked at Jack who grinned evilly at my loss. My opponent seemed bored, and rested his head on his hand, napping.

With nothing to play with, my frenzy left me, and I suddenly felt fear and guilt about the mission that I had  forgotten. I pushed back my chair and mumbled a thank you to Jack. He followed me as I left the room and walked into the main room of the tavern. I saw Molly across the room, serving drinks. I pushed my way through the revelers and came up to her as she was walking toward the bar. She looked at me scornfully, for she undoubtedly thought I was just another drunk.

I stood in front of her, and said, “My name is Edward, Molly. I’m here from the lands above, to help you leave this place.”

I was embarrassed when she laughed and said, “You are a jokester, sir. I’ve watched you for hours. I cannot lend you any money.”

With that, she tried to push by me, but I took her hand in mine. “I’ve almost failed my mission because I gambled. I am truly sorry. I really am here for you. I’ll prove it to you. I have friends waiting outside the door to take you to the upper realms.”

She was skeptical, but felt a glimmer of hope, I think, perhaps because of my apology, or perhaps because she had never met anyone who said they were from the upper realms. In any case, she let me guide her, holding my hand as we walked to the front door. By this point I was desperate to fulfill my mission, and didn’t look back as we approached the door. With my hand on the knob I began to feel relief, when to my intense dismay I felt a fist punching me on my shoulder. Stumbling against the door, I turned to see Jack, with his hand on his dirk, scowling at me.

“Manhattan! Where are you going?” He looked at Molly, who shrank back against me. “What’s this? Trying to take my servant, are you? You cannot. She cannot leave unless her debts are paid.”

I turned to Molly. “Do you have wages you can pay Jack with?”

She shook her head.

Jack laughed. “Wages! She doesn’t earn wages. She pays for her drink and her gaming by working. She is always in debt.” He stared at both of us, fiddling with his dagger, enjoying our predicament. “No one ever leaves this place unless they are paid up. That is the law here. She owes, so she stays.”

I squeezed Molly’s hand, trying to comfort her. “Molly, I thought you had stopped drinking and gambling. How much do you still owe?”

Jack sneered at me, with such a mocking expression on his face that I wanted to strike him. “She owes for years. She owes what you lost at the table, Manhattan. Those were gold coins you played with.”

I stood, in shock, realizing more deeply what I had done, unable to speak. Jack saw my confusion, and laughed again. I glanced at Molly, who looked bitterly disappointed. My feelings of shame were overwhelming.

Jack broke into my thoughts by saying, “I prefer to have her, since I was planning to bed her, but I am obligated by the rules to say that you can pay for this doxy by taking on her debt as your own and staying in her place. You will have to wait on tables just as she did.”

I stared at him in horror. Gazing around the room, I saw again how dark and gloomy it was. The thought of staying in that place, with the temptation of gambling to eat away at me and increase my debt continually, made me feel like I would never leave. I began to feel very afraid.

I glanced at Molly, who looked confused. I stared at her until she bit her lip and lowered her head. She seemed very, very tired. I thought of Rhys and the others, and of Isobel, and the lands that I had seen so briefly. I raised my hand and pressed hard against my forehead, trying to still a suddenly throbbing headache. When I glanced at Molly again, I made my decision. Her face was resigned and sad, and I knew that she had already assumed that I would leave her.

“I will stay,” I told Jack. “But you must let her leave now.”

Jack looked surprised at my decision, but nodded in agreement. He walked to the door and opened it and motioned to Molly. “Too bad I could not coax you into my bed. You would have enjoyed it.”

Molly turned to me and took my hands in hers. She looked up at me, with tears running down her cheeks and whispered, “Why are you doing this?”

“It was my mistake,” I replied. “I may be a gambler, but I couldn’t live with myself if I let you stay.” I nodded at the night outside the door. “My friends are waiting for you. You need to go now.”

Molly squeezed my hand and suddenly stood on her toes and kissed me hard on the lips. “God bless you,” she murmured and then she was gone, with the door closing behind her.

Jack snickered cynically, and grabbed me by the arm. Pointing at a dirty table in the corner, he said, “See that table there? Clean it up! You have years of work to do.”

My head was pounding as I stumbled toward the table. I clumsily placed the beer mugs on a tray, dropping one in the process, eliciting an angry yell from Jack. I made many excursions to the kitchen as I cleaned the tables, and was cursed at by a number of the customers, who seemed to prefer Molly’s charms to my own. On one of my return trips from the kitchen, carrying an empty tray, I glanced toward the door and was surprised to see Rhys, talking quietly with Jack. He handed Jack a pouch, which Jack accepted reluctantly. Catching my eye, Rhys smiled, and waved at me to come to the door. I did so, tripping over my feet in my eagerness. When I reached him, he took my hand and led me through the door of the tavern without a word.

I looked back as I left, and saw Jack scowling at me. I didn’t wave good-bye.

Outside the tavern, I turned to Rhys. I wasn’t sure what to say, feeling conflicting emotions of intense gratitude and really quite horrible shame. He stopped me from speaking and just said, “Let’s talk in the vehicle.”

We made our way to the vehicle where I was greeted with cries of joy by Molly and Yumiko and Scatman and Lucio. Molly curtsied deeply and kissed my hand, blushing as she did so. They led me to a couch in the craft, and as we took off, rushing upward, I started to cry. Through my tears, I gazed at all of them and said, “I’m so very, very sorry to all of you, and to Molly. I let you all down.”

They accepted my apology, gravely, for it was true that I had done so. Looking at Rhys, I blurted out, “Why did you come back for me? How could you come back for me? I hadn’t paid Molly’s debt!”

Rhys put his hand on my shoulder and smiled. “But you did pay it.”

I was confused. “What do you mean?”

“By your decision to stay, you paid her debt and repaired the wrong you had done,” he said. “We were watching you, and were getting quite worried that you weren’t going to make it. Molly was in no real danger, for her own merit would have freed her. You however, were at risk.”

Scatman grinned at me. “Rhys thought maybe we asked you too much, too soon, but you came through at the end. Congratulations, man. You made it over your first hurdle.”

During the rest of the trip, the conversation was very lively. Molly had many questions, for she had been confined to the tavern since she had arrived in the spirit world. I liked her immensely, and not just because she had kissed me. As we rose through the many levels of the spirit world, she watched in fascination as the light grew brighter and as the landscape became more colorful.

The craft finally came to a gentle halt and I saw that we had landed at Rhys’s house. We disembarked and walked to the door, where we were greeted with hugs from Isobel. She immediately took Molly under her wing, and ushered her away. I learned later that the first thing Molly asked for was a warm bath.

The rest of us sat in the kitchen for awhile, gazing out over the valley below, watching hundreds of birds wheel back and forth in the sunlight. I began to feel relaxed and safe once again, so much at home, that I suddenly woke up with a start and realized that I had fallen asleep. Rhys was smiling at me, amused at my consternation. I looked around and said, “Where are the others?”

“Lucio and Scatman and Yumiko have gone to their homes,” he replied. “Molly is resting, and will continue to sleep for some time. Her alcohol abuse has left her weak, and her spirit needs to be restored.”

Isobel entered as he spoke and sat down on his lap, hugging him. She looked at me, with her amazingly warm smile and said, “Molly asked me to thank you once again, before she fell asleep. She is very grateful to you.”

I blushed and stammered, “I’m sorry I didn’t do better.”

They both shook their heads. “You were wonderful at the end. That’s what counts.”

Rhys stood up, reluctantly I think, for I could see that he was enjoying having Isobel on his lap. Tweaking her nose, he smiled at her, and said, “It’s time to take Edward to his new home.” She nodded and came over to me and kissed me on the cheek.

“Come back soon, Edward,” she said.

I said that I would, and in the next instant, Rhys and I were standing in front of a cottage on the edge of a river. It had two stories and was much bigger than the one room cottage I had stayed in before. There was a beautiful garden in the front and the back, and there was a great blue heron standing in the river, watching us with one beady eye.

It was the dog, however, that made me want to cry. It was a big white labrador that came bounding up to us, wagging his tail as fast as he possibly could. He licked me all over my face, until I had to push him away, laughing, pleading with him to stop. Rhys watched me, very pleased that I liked the dog.

I waved my arm around the property, and asked, “How did this happen?”

“You made it so, by your willingness to sacrifice yourself for Molly,” he said. “Everything here is a reflection of your heart.”

I was overwhelmed, I admit. My first mission had been unlike anything I had ever experienced. Turning to Rhys, I hugged him, and said, “Please thank Dr. Schweitzer for me.”

He smiled and said, “I will. You’ll see him again, and all of us too, if you like. We’d like you to stay on our team. Would you like to?”

“Yes, indeed!” I replied. I hesitated to ask the next question. “Will I see Molly again?”

Rhys laughed. “Yes, if you like. We hope she’ll join our team as well. We’ll see.”

With a wave and a smile, Rhys left, and I stood there on the river bank, with my new canine friend. Looking down at him, I rubbed his cheek, and said, “What on earth shall I call you?” He slobbered on my hand affectionately, but didn’t answer at all.

I grinned and said, “I don’t know why, but I think I’ll call you Rembrandt. Is that ok with you?”

He barked, which I guess in dog language was a yes.

I sat down next to Rembrandt, and rubbed his neck, which he liked very much. We watched the heron fishing, and the heron watched us, and we all relaxed by the river bank on a sunny afternoon that had no end in sight, for here in the spirit world, life was good.

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Author's Note: These stories are entirely fictional (at least I think they are :-). Is the spirit world as I have described? I believe that it may be similar, but since one cannot prove something like this, we'll all have to wait until we get there to find out. I have based the environment and attributes of the spirit world on many books that I have read, combined with my own personal beliefs. I particularly recommend two books that purport to be true accounts. The first is "Life in the World Unseen", by Anthony Borgia, and the second is "A Wanderer in the Spirit Lands", by Franchezzo.