Dead or Alive

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Chapter 2: DEALING WITH THE DEVIL

The Door Man arrived, handed out directions to the new location the Door moved too, and told everyone they will need their password to enter. The brawny Door Man, dressed in his uniform clothes looked directly at me, not saying a word.

“I am ready, Mr. Door Man.” I smiled casually.

“I assume, Mr. Wheel Chair, that you have your password with you?” he asked me.

“Yes, I have it.” I said.

“Good, then you shall be the first in line to enter the door. Follow me.” The Door Man directed the hopeful Elderly, and myself.

We walked for blocks, towards a large, gray building, located in the center of the City. There were so many floors that disappeared into the clouds, that it was impossible to count how high the building rose into the night sky. The others, including myself were worn from walking in the lightning storm.

My walker was the only tool that kept me from falling to the ground. We finally arrived at the Door. The Door Man called my name, to come to the front of the line. The other persons were upset, angry, that I was given a privileged position in line. I gave them my condolences and looked up at the Door Man for his directions.

“Give me your name, birthdate, medical issues and your password.” The Door Man smiled. “Seems you finally made it happen. I need to unlock the Door, then you may pass through.”

“I’m ready.” I bowed my head. “I am ready Mr. Door Man.”

The Door Man unlocked the Door and waved me through, to the other side.

“NEXT,” The Door Man called to the line of elderly’s waiting for hope to change their lives, this night.

As I began to pass through the door way, the Door Man told me to close my eyes as a light brighter than the Sun will appear, then instant darkness. My eyes adjusted to the lighting changes inside the building leaving me still in darkness.

I could hear others whispering to one another, a short distance from where I was standing. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I didn’t really care. I wanted to be fixed, healed, and return to the outside, to wake up in the morning, 30 years younger.

I wanted to feel the strength of my legs and the touch of my feet on the ground when I walked. Congestion gone, and fresh air filling my lungs. I wanted to take my broken wheel chair and toss it into the trash along with my walker. I wanted to be free once more, to live.

I still couldn’t see much inside this room, but felt a presence that scared me. The Air turned cold, breathing was difficult for me, and something, touched my back, pushing me forward to a dim light in the distance.

“Continue walking towards the light,” a voice whispered in my ear. “You are almost there.”

The other voices turned into cries, moans, and sounds of hopelessness. I was determined to continue, no matter what distractions might ensue. My only problem was, I didn’t know where to go.

Another door appeared in front of me, out of nowhere. The door began to open, slowly. The more it opened the more I could see inside. Other Elders were changing before my eyes. I was in the right place.

Soon, it would be my turn, my turn to be saved. No one will call me a cripple, I will be able to breath, no more congestion and free to live once more, my way. Someone behind a curtain called my name.

I was directed to go forward, past the curtain, and take a seat. Excitement filled my senses. This place was real, not a dream, but now, I was the only one in this huge, dark room. I was alone, alone again. Where did all the others that were whispering, go? The dim light that I had followed to get to this place, the curtain, had died. Now, total darkness, sitting on a chair, behind a curtain, not knowing what was to come, next.

This dream kept coming and going in my vision. The dream wanted to end, but I continued to fight, to keep it going. If my dream stopped now, I would have to try again, the next night, or quit. I was too close to success.

I needed to walk out of the exit door to the outside, like the others who were healed and rejuvenated. I would do anything to be 30 years or more, younger, and healthy, anything.

Still sitting on this hard- backed chair, a voice on the other side of the curtain told me, I would be next, please be patient. I had major difficulty in keeping my dream in place and not losing it, this night. The curtain was pulled back, and my turn had come, but my dream was waning.

I tried to hold on, but the fog returned, and with it, my awakening. The last thing I remember, was a tall, thin man, balding, dressed in all white clothes, holding a chart with my name on it, two nurses, young and beautiful, full of smiles. Then they all disappeared, and I woke up.

Another night, another try. I knew where to go, and what to say to get through this mysterious door, and pasted the Door Man, back inside the room protected by the curtain. I needed the Doctor, and the two nurses to wait for my return.

This night to come, will be my night to succeed. Coffee time, and a quick trip to the bathroom to see any new bodily changes my mirror could show me. Once again, I bowed to the almighty mirror on the wall, to show me the changes that the past night, dream, had created in my body.

I looked, for the first time, into my eyes, blood red, and blurred. It was difficult to believe that my skin was turning gray, my hair falling out, and my throat yellowish and petrified. I began trying to talk to myself, but the words were only spoken inside my mind, not my voice.

I wasn’t feeling any congestion, nor was I breathing normally. I had to return to the door in my dream and finish the process of change.

A knock on my door came as I finished my inspection in the bathroom. Over and over the knock pounded loudly in my ears. It was early, too early for anyone to come to my house. I couldn’t speak, even as I tried, my voice was still.

I looked outside my living room window to see several police cars, and a large white van, parked in my drive way. Lights were flashing and men with gurneys were heading towards my front door.

They must think that I am dying. The name on the white van said, “COUNTY CORNERER.” Somehow, someone, had thought me dead. I needed to sleep, dream, and return to the door. A terrible mistake was about to be made by the Police. If I could speak, I would tell the Police I was okay, leave me alone, I am not dead, yet, but I have no voice.

My God, help me dream. Give me the time to return to the Door. I am not Dead. I laid down on my bed, closed my eyes, and tried to dream myself into the other world that I belonged to. Sleep was slowly entering my presence, as the Police had forced open my front door. I could hear them telling the men holding the gurney to come into the bedroom and take the body. My Body.

This can’t be happening. I am not dead. I looked up into the faces of the two men who were placing me on the gurney, trying to get them to see my eyes. They opened a black bag, unzipped the opening, and placed me inside the bag.

I could only think of my dream to return. I kept calling for my dream to return, return, return. The two men carried me outside and put me into the van, as another man, possibly a doctor, pronounced my death.

I AM NOT DEAD, DON’T ZIP UP THE BAG. LET ME DREAM, I NEED TO RETURN TO MY DREAM. My voice wasn’t heard and the van left my property, heading to the place that all dead persons go to when it’s their time, The Morgue.

I had little time to think, and no time to act. I needed to enter my dream and save myself from a false death.

The van was stopping, the two doors of the van opening, and the gurney I was on, was being removed and carried down many stairs, then inside a building where a large table was waiting for me. The two men spoke to another person, a woman, and told her my name, and the time of death.

The woman asked the two men, what was the cause of my death. They told her it was congestive heart failure. She thanked them, put me into a freezer, and left. There was little time for my dream to come back to me. Everyone believed me dead. I am alive.

Finally, my dream returned, I am behind the curtain, and ready to receive my rejuvenation. The tall man and two beautiful nurses were looking down at me, smiling and telling me that I was so lucky. “Why was I lucky,” I could speak once more, in my dream. “Why am I so lucky.” I repeated myself.

They told me to relax, the process was just about to begin, that everything is now in place to return me and this broken body, back 30 years in time. In the back of my mind, I could hear a zipper, the zipper to my body bag opening. The Doctor was about to perform an autopsy on me. They were about to cut me open and dissect my insides for the cause of death.

“Please, can you hurry, I don’t have much time before this dream will be over.” I asked the three standing over me. “We will do our best to finish your process, but you must understand, you have many deficiencies, problems with your body.” The man frowned. “These items must be corrected, or they will be with you, when we return you 30 years past.”

“Okay, okay, but please hurry, I don’t have much time.”

They finally began correcting the genetic issues in my system, the diseased Bone Marrow, the COPD that had ravaged my lungs. A drink, an elixir of chromosomes and gene alterations was prepared for me. It was time to be rejuvenated. The Man asked me how I wished to pay for this elixir.

“I don’t understand. No one told me there was a payment due, before you give me the drink.” “Mr. Jones, nothing is for free.” The Doctor frowned. “How are you going to pay for this elixir, Mr. Jones.”

The Coroner, had prepared my body to be cut open for inspection and removal of my organs if suitable for transplant.

“If you don’t give me the elixir now, I will pay you with my death.” I cried.

“Done, that payment is acceptable, Mr. Jones.” The tall, lanky man and two nurses smiled at me. “Give him the elixir now, before his organs are removed.” The Tall man ordered the two beautiful girls.

“Mr. Jones, I need you to sign this death certificate as the elixir is working. In a few minutes or sooner, you will be restored to your prior self, 30 years ago, if this Coroner does not remove your organs first. Do you understand?”

“Yes, give me the document and I will sign it. Please hurry.” I begged the man. I drank the elixir as the Coroner began cutting open my chest down to my groin. I felt no pain, but as the elixir took hold, I sat up on the Coroners table, smiled at the Doctor, asking her where my clothes were?

The Doctor ran from the operating room, trying to scream, empty of speech. I looked for a mirror and my clothes, but the mirror first. The bathroom was close, I entered the room and there was the most beautiful mirror I had ever seen. I was, young, again.

My dream was real. I yelled at the top of my new lungs, I AM YOUNG AGAIN, over, and over, again, as I put on my clothes and walked, with my healed legs, to the exit door of the Morgue. I passed by the Woman Doctor, smiling at her, shanking her hand, and thanking her for her service. She fainted in my arms.

Leaving the Morgue didn’t get a lot of attention, and I left the premises, heading for the Bank. I needed to get my money, buy a new car, and leave this City for Seal Beach. I had my eyes on this little three- bedroom, two- bath home, for years, and today I will buy it.

My Banker didn’t recognize me, but I explained that I had cosmetic surgery, 90210 style, and hey, how do I look?

“My God, Mr. Jones, you look 30 years younger.” My Banker smiled, then frowned. “30 years younger, and no more problems with your legs?”

“Amazing, isn’t cosmetic surgery incredible?” I took my money in cash, left the Bank smiling, and bought a new Z06 Corvette. My Dream car. Next, Seal Beach, Opal Cove Way to buy my dream house on the sand.

It was a long day, my name and face all over the news. The FBI put me on their most wanted list, but the photo of me, was of a 72- year old dying man, not a 40- year old, young vibrant man of wealth and fame. The Coroner’s office told the Police what happened and the hunt was on, for Mr. Jones.

I contacted an Attorney who filed papers to change my name, to Smith, Mr. Smith. Jones had died in the Morgue. The Attorney handled the Purchase /sale of my dream house, and a new name, new bank account, new car, and of course, a new body. I moved in to the house this night, fully furnished, bed ready for my new body to rest, possibly, to dream.

I sat on my new bed, pulled out the paper work the Thin man and two beautiful girls in my dream, gave me. It was many pages in context, many legal terms I didn’t understand. I really didn’t care, until I came to the end of the agreement.

Just above my signature, was the final sentence stating that this agreement was irrevocable and final. I thought it was now necessary to read the whole document or give it to my new attorney to advise me. I chose the latter, called the Attorney to come to my house in the morning, and review a document, important document. He agreed to be at my new house by 9am.

With that call over, I was dead tired, pardon the pun, and laid down on the bed, fully clothed, and slept through the night, no dreams.

The morning came with crashing waves on the beach and families gathering on the sand for picnicking, playing volleyball and surfing the waters, both by board and by their bodies. The younger kids were skate boarding and skating the walk ways from one end of the beach to the other end.

The knock on my door signaled my 9am meeting was here. I opened the door and let my Attorney in, offering coffee and toast before we dug into the contract given me, by unknown sources.

“What do we have here, a contract entitled, REGENERATION AGREEMENT BY AND BETWEEN PARTY ONE. MR. JONES AND PARTY TWO, THE CREATER OF ELEMENT 55.738 AB.” What is this group called Element 55.738AB?” my attorney questioned me.

“Take your coffee, sit in the living room, and digest it, thoroughly. Then we can talk.” I directed him.

Several hours of head turning, mouth puckering, and looks of unbelief, configured my Attorneys face, while reading the contract. Finally, he set the documents down on the coffee table and asked me If I knew what I had signed. I told him that it was a death Certificate and terms thereof.

“Terms thereof. Thereof what?” my Attorney said confusedly.

“I was given an experimental drug, as referenced in the text of the agreement. I agreed to take the drug, and consequences if any, THEREOF.” I said, hesitantly.

“The document you signed purports, that you were deceased for 3 minutes before this scientific group ingested a drug into your body, forcefully. It also purports that you were resuscitated immediately after the drug was administered.” He frowned.

“Yes, go on.” I told him.

“Well, is that what happened to you or not?” My Attorney faltered.

“Yes, so they told me.” I frowned. “What else did you find?”

“Your age.” He turned and looked outside at the people occupying the beach with their umbrellas, ice chests full of food and drink, and towels spread out on the sand for each family member to use.

“My age?” I questioned.

“Yes, this agreement says you are 72 years old. Your body is dying, with no current cures of the day.” My Attorney told me. “Are you 72 years old, Mr. Smith?”

“Don’t make me laugh. Do I look 72?” I frowned.

“No, you don’t, but this contract is obviously for some other person than yourself, correct? Mr. Jones.”

“And I am the administrator of Mr. Jones Last Will and Testament.” I smiled.

We talked for hours, now that, the Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith issue was solved in my Attorneys mind. There were issues, serious issues, if Mr. Jones exposed this contract, and or divulged any information about the chemical ELEMENT 55.738AB.

My Attorney advised me that it would be a prudent thing for him to meet this Mr. Jones, and discuss the contract with him directly. I sadly advised my Attorney, that Mr. Jones did not survive the injection of the experimental, Element 55.738AB.

If Mr. Jones is deceased, then why are you having me review this contract?” my Attorney asked me.

“There were codicils in the Contract that if broken, certain clauses would come into play.” I stated. “Are you familiar with these codicils, and are there ramifications to Mr. Jones, if exposed, other than Death?” I asked.

“You know, I am totally confused as to why I am here, if this Mr. Jones is deceased.” My Attorney questioned.

“Please answer my question,” I demanded.

“Codicil Number one, this agreement is good for 30 years, non-renewable.

Number Two, if any person is made aware of element 55.738AB they will be prosecuted to the full intent of the law, including the penalty of Death.

Codicil Number three, any changes or admissions of fraud by the Signee, will immediately cause the inventors of element 55.738AB to perform an extraction of the Element from the body of the user, not being responsible for abnormal results to the user, if any.

Codicil Number four. The user will enjoy the benefits of Element 55.738AB for the duration of this contract, i.e.; 30 years, unless exposure of such element is announced to the media or by electronic devices known as the INTERNET AND ITS SUBSIDERARIES. SUCH EXPOSURE WILL IMMEDIATELY REVERSE THE BENEFITS TO THE USER AND VOID THIS CONTRACT IN ITS ENTIRITY.

“Let’s take a walk on the Beach. I feel a bit cooped up inside this house, how about you?” I said politely.

We both agreed, that would be welcomed. We removed our shoes, rolled up the pant legs, and hit the sand. Our conversation continued for hours and the frustration of my Attorney grew exponentially. Finally, he agreed that he couldn’t really help me anymore than what he has already done, and it was time for him to leave.

We said our goodbye’s, my thanks, and for him to send me the bill for his time and efforts. Alone again, deep breath of relief, and time to check my bathroom mirror. Everything was so new to me, and unbelievably amazing. This experimental Element had done its work.

I saw my reflection in the mirror. A firm, healthy, 40- year old man, no wheel chair, no walker, no illness’s, perfect health. I couldn’t help pinching the skin on my face to see if it was real. It was.

Hello Mr. Smith.

Dreams do come true, but sometimes with consequences. Signing an agreement with the world of Dreams and those who live among the darkness of doors and Door Men, may open other channels, channels of unwanted, disastrous consequences.

Right now, I am free. I was chosen, by the world of Dreams, by the inhabitants of this world, which is known to all, but where only a few have visited its place of existence. The Realm of the unconscious mind, where the unconscious becomes the conscious.

Tomorrow is another day, a day at the beach. A day to give thanks to God for saving me from my most horrible life. I was still a bit confused about some of the terms of my Death Certificate, or that of Mr. Jones, thinking that all is good, and I am about to enjoy the next THIRTY YEARS OF MY LIFE.

Tomorrow is the first day of my life as Mr. Smith. I have seen more fantasia in the last 3 to 4 days, that would fill my soul with fear and or happiness, for a life time. Not to worry, the two beautiful girls told me, in my Dream, not to worry. Somehow, those words were not comforting to me. Time will tell.

Sleep filled my body, from head to toe. Thank God, no new dreams came my way, as I slept through the night, peacefully.

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