Neural 627

Neural627

Copyright © 2015 by

Ronald Heath

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

ISBN 978-1-329-80095-3

Chapter 1

Frederic Fountain had had a good life, reflected Fred, as he stared down at his ruined body that was crushed inside of the crumpled SUV. He rose up through the shattered windshield and looked out at the trees that were along the roadside. He supposed that most other people would have family members who would meet them at a time such as this, but none were present. Fred's parents were unknown to him because he had grown up in foster care before joining the air force. He considered his life to have been good because of his loving wife Sara and his son Brian.

Fred drifted around the SUV. He could see that the rear tire on the left side was intact, but the front rim was twisted and the tire was now stretched into an oval shape. He remembered the last few moments of his life as he had seen the tractor-trailer rig cross over into his lane from around the blind curve. He had turned just out of the path of the truck and he remembered sparks and smoke coming from the left front wheel of the rig. There had been no room between the truck and the tree. He remembered looking at the trees and the oncoming truck. Fred had chosen to go between the two trees. The SUV was too wide to fit and had crumpled against the trees, but the only other option was a head-on collision with the tractor-trailer rig.

The failed wheel of the tractor-trailer rig had not been enough to destroy the cab, and Fred looked over to see the driver of the rig push his door open. The driver had to pull himself up by grabbing the door frame and then step on the metal rail before he jumped to the ground because the cab was tilted at an angle. He then walked over towards Fred's SUV. The driver looked in at Fred's body through the shattered and twisted window frame. The truck driver knew that Fred had died and that there was no way to pull his body out of the twisted metal. He turned a bit pale, then walked quickly away to a safe distance. The car was really mangled and smelled of gasoline, so an explosion was a possibility. He shook his head sadly. He had tried to avoid the swerve, but the mechanical failure was beyond his ability to correct by yanking the wheel and slamming on the brakes. Fred watched from a short distance while the driver dialed 911 on his cell phone.

With a bit of surprise at the ease of it, Fred willed himself to be at his home. The travel was nearly instantaneous and without much sense of movement, yet he was now in his house just as he had willed it. He drifted over to his favorite leather recliner chair and tried to sit. He was successful at conforming his new self to the shape that his body used to be while sitting in this chair. It was a minor thing to him that he could not feel any of his weight as being supported by the chair, but it was a bit more unnerving to realize that he now had no weight at all. Fred began to allow his mind to think about the experience of having died in a car crash. The shock of it all began to fade a bit and his mind was able to begin putting itself back together. The focus and extent of his thoughts seemed to be intact, but there was no vast expansion of mental ability, although his memory did seem to be getting better. Memories of things that he had done last week and the week before were there for him to view in great detail, whereas during life, there had been difficulty remembering weather an event had happened yesterday or two days ago. His vision was much improved. He had barely passed the flight physical a few weeks ago, for his job as a pilot for a major package delivery company, but now everything was sharp and clear. He could see all around him if he wished, but he preferred to concentrate on what was just in front of him. He realized that he was quite comfortable and could sense his new body itself, but material things did not stimulate his sense of touch as they used to. In fact, his new body passed right through material things without any real effect, other than a slight tingling sensation. He had heard stories of objects being thrown by those who had passed on, but as he tried to move a glass on the small table next to his chair, he discovered that it was not going to be easy to have an effect on the material world. His fingers closed right through the glass without any effect whatever.

Fred sat in his chair and let these things settle for a few hours. He was a bit startled when his wife came in with a bag of groceries. She walked right past him and set them on the counter top next to the refrigerator. She did not know of the accident yet, nor could she see Fred as he sat up in his chair.

Fred was a bit rattled and felt a bit creepy as he watched Sara put the meat into the freezer and the lettuce into the refrigerator without a glance towards him.

The phone rang. She answered the phone and Fred could hear the police man sharing the news of the accident. Sara began to cry.

Were he to have had eyes and a real face, he also would have been physically crying. As it was, Fred soon could not handle it and he drifted right through the wall and out into the back yard. He drifted around the outside of the house to the front and then floated along the street where he had gone out for walks when he had been living.

Chapter 2

Fred's body was removed from the SUV with heavy hydraulic scissors that cut through the twisted metal. The coroner placed the body into a black wood veneer casket with polished brass plated fixtures. A few days later, the casket was brought to a small chapel where the service was held. Fred was there in the back row as his family members, friends and co-workers said kind words, or just sat respectfully. Fred followed the poll bearers out to the burial sight and watched them lower his body into the ground.

Fred really expected to see some kind of a light, or some other spirit, especially there in the grave yard, but there were none. He stayed until his wife and son had left for home, and then he began drifting slowly towards home as well. He passed the gas station where he had made his turn on the way home every night after his milk run flight to L.A. and back. The memory of the SUV as he had accelerated up the road from there was still fresh in his mind. He drifted along the side walk and past a lady out walking her dog. He waved and said hi, but then remembered that she could not see him. The dog, however, gave him a strange and quizzical look, as if to say I knew you when you were alive. He continued on and made the last turn onto his street.

He entered his house and floated up the stairs. He drifted through his son Brian's door and over to Brian as he typed at the keyboard of his desktop computer. Fred shamelessly read his son's email about last Friday's party and about who was dating who. At first he had some interest, but then he became more interested in the computer in it's box on the floor. This was bright with complex patterns of energy. He was not much of an expert in electronics, but he had done some study during his training in the Air Force. Mostly out of curiosity, he looked inside of the box and then moved his awareness to the inside of the processor chip. He could see the registers flickering away and the bits setting and re-setting, but any pattern to what was going on eluded him. He soon lost interest and drifted back downstairs where he sat in his chair again.

It was not like sleep, exactly, but more of a meditative state where time passed faster outside of himself. He found that he could still go into the state of relaxation that he and his wife had learned to do many years ago when they had taken a class on meditation. Sleep, however seemed to be more of a physical thing that he was no longer able to do. There was nothing to disturb him as he went into his meditation and centered himself.  After twenty minutes, he came out of the meditation and just floated there on his familiar chair. He found that he could clear his mind and just float. This was one of the new things that he had discovered. The new things that he would not have known that he would enjoy – the things that would have bored him to tears during his lifetime, but now were were quite enjoyable. So he sat and mentally coasted the night away.

Chapter 3

The morning brought sunlight in through the windows that lit up Fred's chair. He could sense the energy of it, rather than it being hot and not cold. The energy and lack of it were another thing that he was beginning to know. He required neither food nor water, but he did require energy to sustain himself. During the night he had become somewhat low on energy and his thoughts had began to slow. At first he had thought that he was becoming depressed, but then he had felt more sluggish rather than any emotional effect. The sunlight was a bit helpful and he lifted from the chair, then moved so that he could see Sara making breakfast. She looked somewhat melancholy but she was emotionally strong. Fred knew that she would have enough money to keep the house on her salary as a teacher. This was because of the life insurance that he had bought in addition to what the company had paid for. This would not be enough to put Brian through college as they had been planning, but maybe he would follow in his father's footsteps by enlisting in the service. Brian was a bright boy and his grades were good.

Brian came down the stairs and sat at the table. Sara went over to the table and served up a stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee for each of them.

He is in a better place, you know. Comforted Sara.

Fred could not help but wonder when, or if, he would get to that better place, but he was not doing too badly though, he thought.

While they ate, Brian talked about his upcoming math test. Sara talked about grading the tests that she would give her students. Too soon for Fred, they finished eating, and began preparing to leave the house.

Fred followed Brian as he walked down the street. They passed the house where the lady with the dog lived, but the house was silent at this time in the morning. The next house had a white picket fence and a green lawn with a few small patches of brown. Fred floated ahead and looked back at his son's face. Brian seemed to be doing ok, but also seemed to be a bit depressed. Fred floated back behind Brian and watched as he walked. The bus stop