A Short Story: Endless Possibilities

Endless Possibilities

By: Lindsay Golden Johnson

“He’s got the gun out again…” Haven, Peter’s spirit guide had literally done all that she could do to help him. No matter how many times his life seemed to get back on track, he found a way to fall apart and collapse again. He just wasn’t happy on earth. Even as a little boy he had seemed sad and sullen most of the time. It really took a lot to get him excited, and lately he wasn’t even functioning as a member of society or life at all.

“Bring him to me, please.”

“I will.” With a single thought Haven was by his side again, watching him contemplate death and dying. She knew that he wouldn’t do it. He never did, but it was quite clear that something had to change. After awhile he set the gun on his nightstand, tears rolling down the familiar path of stubble and dry skin, and fell asleep. Sleep was the one time that he didn’t feel the unbearable weight of his life, and he certainly did a lot of sleeping.

“Peter,” Haven held her hand out to him and invited him to come with her into the astral plane. He came with her a lot and they talked while his body slept. No matter how low he was, she always loved and understood him. She never once judged him. He was a loving soul and was very gentle and kind when he was out of his body.  Although people who met him in the street or interacted with him in the physical world would never describe him with those words. “You are wanted, they have manifested a place for us to meet.”

Peter knew who she meant and went with her. This wasn’t the first meeting of souls regarding his life path as Peter. He had spent immeasurable time trying to reconcile things on the spiritual level for the personality, but it never seemed to help once he was back in the physical body called Peter.

“Come…” Peter and Haven were welcomed into the large room and hovered beside a long table with the others.

“Things have become extreme, it is time to make a choice for Peter.” Haven whispered and Peter knew what she meant. “You have an exit point coming up and it may be the best strategy here.”

The beings around the table all cared for Peter, he knew that they did. They were his higher council. Peter had reviewed many lifetimes with these beings and cherished their thoughts and opinions completely. Peter thought back to the loving advice they had given him as he planned this lifetime and wished that he had heeded their recommendation to wait awhile before incarnating again. “Peter,” Asa began, with a patience and acceptance that was much appreciated. “We feel that you should look at the probabilities and decide. You are unhappy on earth in this life and we do not wish to make you stay, but it is up to you.”

“I will explore the probabilities now, thank you for the support.” Peter was a light being now, far different from the neglected body that he was connected to back in Chicago. The Peter that was living as a college professor and absentee father was as dark as humanly possible. He began to explore the possible outcomes for his life and they all began with the moment that he would awaken from here. They weren’t joking when they said it was time to decide… He knew that his exit point was a probability and decided, with Haven beside him, to explore that outcome first.

 

 

My life was getting worse and worse by the moment. I had no friends left, my wife had custody of the children, I had cancelled more classes in the past month than faculty members usually cancelled in a year, and I was depressed and alone. I had really screwed up all aspects of what once seemed like a promising life. The gun that I had placed on the nightstand was there when I woke up from a fitful sleep. My body rarely truly relaxed and rested anymore.

The sun was sinking and it was nearly dinner time. I didn’t eat anymore and was wasting away. I would have a beer later, but as for food I just wasn’t interested. The gun was calling my name again. It seemed like the most logical way out of all of this mess. My cell phone buzzed and I ignored it as usual. It was most likely one of the children who now called another man “Daddy” and called me by my first name instead. I had really fucked up fatherhood.

I pulled the gun onto the mattress beside me, thinking it seemed like as good a time as any to die. My face, sticky from that afternoon’s dried tears, was now covered in streams of wet sadness again. I wasn’t angry at life, but I was done with it. I thought of the days, that felt like much longer ago than they actually were, when I was a newlywed and spent every waking moment in Noel’s arms. Those moments were the closest to content and happy that I had ever been. Things changed when we began having children, Noel changed. She wasn’t interested in spending much time at all in my arms. She was busy, in love with the little beings that she was popping out left and right, and more concerned with whether I had taken out the garbage than with how my day had gone. My job was unfulfilling, money was tight, and I checked out. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it just gradually seemed that I drifted farther and farther away from my family.

As I held the cold gun in my hand I knew what I had to do. I had to erase myself from the history of life and give everyone what they really wanted anyway, a reason not to visit me or interact with me at all. Even my students had stopped emailing me and coming by my office for help. No one wanted to be near someone as screwed up as Peter Hannah, just in case it was contagious-- wouldn’t want to catch "fuck up fever."

 I didn’t leave a note. I didn’t leave a will. I didn’t leave a legacy. I didn’t leave anything but a body with a blown off head and a surprisingly large splatter of blood and guts. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t even tickle. One second I was holding the gun in my mouth, tasting the metallic smooth surface, and the next minute I was gone. Erased. Relieved. Finally.

 

 

The moment that the gun was fired set off a chain of events that Haven and Peter watched unfold. He saw the moment when his children got the news, and it was proof that they had loved him dearly. Even Noel was heartbroken. He watched his funeral, his parents crying, his siblings wondering what they could have done to help, his students shedding tears over their fallen professor, and his children confused and hurting more than he had ever imagined they would hurt.

They then watched the next few years of his children’s lives. His untimely death completely changed the children’s probabilities. Leon, his oldest son—named after his Mom—reached his teen years and fell into drugs and casual soul numbing sex. He contemplated suicide often and just wanted to be left alone. Alice, his only daughter, cried a lot. Even years later, she would cry hysterically over him. She seemed sad, the complete opposite of the little girl he knew before. His third son, Harrison, was perhaps the worst of all. At twelve years old he took a gun to school and was expelled. He had an obsession with causing pain to others, most likely just to share a bit of the pain that was thrust upon him at the tender age of five. He then saw Noel. She was divorced because her seemingly perfect doctor husband just couldn’t deal with her troubled children. She was alone and worried about what to do with the boys, she was so focused on them that she never even noticed the deep despair that Alice was trudging through. Peter had seen enough.

“That probability is not an option. I don’t want to see any more,” he interrupted, not able to endure more.

Haven nodded and slid the scene before them through the air until it disappeared. “Good. I didn’t think it would be a good fit.”

“Let me see more.”

Haven then pulled the next scenario into the air in front of them. Peter felt for his personality. He was lying on a mattress without sheets, sleeping and pondering a death that would tear so many other people’s realities to pieces. He wished he could reach down and spread the peace of the ethers over Peter, but he couldn’t. He just had to assist him by picking the best probability that would offer Peter the most peace of mind and the least destruction.

“This is a probability where you wake up from your slumber, lock the gun away in a safe, and push out of the depression little by little. It seems like the least painful for most people in your life, but it is excruciatingly painful for you. You live every day wishing you were never born. You cry a lot and feel the distance between your children and yourself even more strongly than you ever did before. You don’t feel worthy enough to try and push your way back into their lives, and you live out your days in a similar way as to how they are being lived now. Sad, alone, and depressed.”

Peter watched the life unfold before him and immediately knew again that he couldn’t do that to himself. It was uneventful and it was basically choosing to live a miserable life just to keep from hurting other people. As much as he loved his children from this side of the veil, he knew that they wouldn’t want him to live like that for their benefit. They had their own string of probabilities that didn’t involve him. Some of them might find another reason to turn out “bad,” and in that case his sacrifice would be a complete waste. He shook his head and they explored it no more.

Haven pulled another life before him, one that she thought had promise. It was definitely a start… It wasn’t that far of a reach from where he currently was, and it at least set him up to find help and support. Peter watched with her and immediately knew that it was definitely the best option that he had explored so far. Haven studied him as he watched the scene unfold, hoping that they could find a good fit for her dear love Peter.

 

 

My life was getting worse and worse by the moment. I had no friends left, my wife had custody of the children, I had cancelled more classes in the past month than faculty members usually cancelled in a year, and I was depressed and alone. I had really screwed up all aspects of what once seemed like a promising life. The gun that I had placed on the nightstand was there when I woke up from a fitful sleep. My body rarely truly relaxed and rested anymore.

The sun was sinking and it was nearly dinner time. I didn’t eat anymore and was wasting away. I would have a beer later, but as for food I just wasn’t interested. The gun was calling my name again. It seemed like the most logical way out of all of this mess. My cell phone buzzed and I ignored it as usual. It was most likely one of the children who now called another man “Daddy” and called me by my first name instead. I had really fucked up fatherhood.

I pulled the gun onto the mattress beside me and studied it for awhile. I thought back to the afternoon when I purchased it. I had been shaking like a leaf when I filled out the paperwork and my handwriting was unrecognizable. I nervously explained that there had been break-ins in my apartment recently, but I knew good and well that it was not for home protection and that instead it would most likely be the means to an end. I shook my head at the thought of how foolish I must have looked in that gun store, and realized that no matter what I did in life that I would never fit in or be happy. I never had and I never would. I pulled the gun up to my temple and again began to shake. This wasn’t the way I wanted to die, but I had to do something. Something had to change.

I reached across the bed and grabbed the old flip phone that had been buzzing only seconds before and dialed 9-1-1. The nasal voice of the operator immediately asked what my emergency was and I sat quietly for a moment, gathering my thoughts.  

Finally words began to come from my mouth. I hadn’t planned what I would say, but somehow everything was coming out calmly and intelligently. “I have a gun and I feel suicidal. I don’t want to kill myself and need you to send help.” My voice was surprisingly steady and within a few minutes police and paramedics descended upon my apartment and carted me off to the psychiatric ward where I belonged.  

This probability was one of hope and both Peter and Haven could see the potential of it. After a few weeks of therapy and constant supervision Peter would be released with new medicine that numbed him out some. His family would visit him and make more of an effort. This potential allowed Peter to find some of the help he needed without interfering too much with his children and ex-wife’s lives. Haven nodded with encouragement, but Peter still needed to see more potentials before he decided.

Yes, threatening to kill himself and calling for help seemed to lead down a path that was fairly peaceful and calm for him. It seemed like being numb to the world was a start in the right direction, but it still did not make enough of a change for Peter to feel completely at peace with it. It seemed like every potential outcome still left him dangling in a life that he didn’t enjoy and that he wanted out of. Peter deserved happiness and stability.

“More…”

Haven nodded and slid that outcome to the side for later. The next one was another exit point. This time instead of shooting himself and tearing his family apart at the seams, he would die in an “accident.” He would fall into the road in front of a large truck and after a few days in the hospital on life support would make his exit. His family would lose him, but they would find pity for him because of the way he died. The children would embrace Dr. Lawson as their father more readily with a death like this, and it would secure a stable marriage for Noel. Peter knew that she deserved something long lasting and nodded to Haven. She slid it to the side and now there were two probable outcomes that may come in handy for him.

“Still more…” Peter said, knowing that he would feel a sense of peace when the right path was placed before him. He wanted to see them all and Haven understood.

Haven cared for Peter very much. They had lived many lifetimes together and in this lifetime she had seen his potential for depression and sadness and had decided to stay behind as a guide. She knew how easy it was to forget who you are on the other side and vowed to nudge him and consistently offer him opportunities to glimpse his soul and remember a little. So far, the forty-six years that he had lived had been spent farther away from his soul and higher self than he had ever lived before. Haven knew that it was natural for people to forget, but somehow residue from his incarnation as a Jewish man who lost everything, including his own life, to the Nazi Regime was bleeding through into his life as Peter and he just couldn’t get a handle on the sadness and pain. She hated to see Peter suffer and was thankful that a human lifespan was so brief in comparison to the eons of time that he had lived and would live. Haven selected another life to show him and felt a surge of hope come forth from within when it began to unfold before them.

My life was getting worse and worse by the moment. I had no friends left, my wife had custody of the children, I had cancelled more classes in the past month than faculty members usually cancelled in a year, and I was depressed and alone. I had really screwed up all aspects of what once seemed like a promising life. The gun that I had placed on the nightstand was there when I woke up from a fitful sleep. My body rarely truly relaxed and rested anymore.

The sun was sinking and it was nearly dinner time. I didn’t eat anymore and was wasting away. I would have a beer later, but as for food I just wasn’t interested. The gun was calling my name again. It seemed like the most logical way out of all of this mess. My cell phone buzzed and I ignored it as usual. It was most likely one of the children who now called another man “Daddy” and called me by my first name instead. I had really fucked up fatherhood.

I pulled the gun onto the mattress beside me shook my head. What was I thinking? I had never even shot a gun and it would be quite ironic for my first pull of a trigger to end my life. I looked around the room and noticed what a mess everything was, I must have been blind to it before. The stained mattress beneath me smelled of spilled beer and mildew. I coughed at the sudden surge of fowl odors all around me.

I reached up and felt several weeks worth of stubble on my face. I thought to myself that it must have been days since I had even bathed and headed toward the bathroom to groom myself a little. The floor was covered in wet towels, discolored socks, and wadded up underwear. My eyes grew wide as I realized what a deep rut I had been in.

I showered, shaved, picked up the floor, and wrapped a beach towel around me since none of the bath towels were folded where they once had been. I looked at myself in the mirror and my sad eyes had a glimmer of hope in them. Maybe I could pull it together and make a life for myself again, I was thankful that I finally wanted to try.

I felt like a different man. I really did. I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed, but something had. I felt like the issues and moods that had plagued me for decades were unimportant and like I could breathe again. Even the daunting task of cleaning my apartment and mending the bonds that I had so haphazardly broken with my family seemed doable.

I was contemplating dinner, surveying the empty cabinets, and wondering how I had managed to survive on the scant amount of sustenance that my kitchen had to offer when the phone buzzed. I pounced on the bed to grab it, unusually eager for human interaction. “Hello?” I said, my voice surprisingly chipper.

“Dad?” It was Leon. He was nine and I had missed his last two birthday parties. He needed me, and I had been selfish enough to ignore the simple fact that no matter who your ex-wife remarried, that your children still had a place in their lives for you.

“Hey son! How’s it going?” I asked, trying to lower my tone a bit to sound more like the old me. I didn't want to spring this new zeal for life on him, or anyone, too soon.

“Hey Peter.” Leon sounded a little surprised that I answered and it almost seemed like he didn’t have a real reason to call, but I didn’t mind.

“I have spring break next week, I think…” I wracked my brain to be sure that I was right, but I had been so disorganized and down that I still couldn’t be totally sure. “I’m going to be working on my apartment all weekend and thought maybe if you aren’t busy that you and Harrison and Alice could come for a few days...” I didn't know where that idea had come from but I liked it.

I felt almost as surprised about the offer as Leon sounded, “Really? I’ll ask Mom!” It sounded like he had been waiting on that offer for awhile.

And so began the healing and reconnection. I eventually got my act together enough to share custody with Noel again, and eventually all of the children started calling me “Dad.” I rediscovered my love for science and realized that I really loved teaching. Within two years of the afternoon that I spent sleeping beside my gun, I met someone special and fell in love. It was amazing and I really never understood how I shifted so dramatically, but I was thankful for it. I was thankful for every single day and every single breath I took.

I came alive when I woke up from that nap and found a fervor and joy for life that was alien to me, but I welcomed it with open arms. I never gave heaven or my soul much thought, but sometimes I had the feeling that someone or something bigger than me was helping to guide me and protect me. Life was different and worth living. I wasn’t depressed or in anguish anymore, and in the blink of an eye I changed for the better.

Life was and is beautiful and I’m grateful to be happy and healthy and quite frankly I’m grateful to be alive. I sold the gun, but I never forgot how close I came to almost ending it all. I never told a soul how deep my depression and pain had been, but now I doubt they’d believe me even if I did.

 

Haven knew as she watched Peter view this probability that it was the right one. She saw how lovely his life could be and without even asking him slid the other two  possible lives away from sight. He didn’t need to go to a psychiatric ward or jump out in front of moving traffic to find peace, he just needed her.

“You would do that for me?” Peter asked, nearly mesmerized by the beautiful life that he had just witnessed.

Haven nodded and reached for him. They embraced, an embrace that was quite different from a hug in the physical realm. Their energies merged and blended into one. It was decided. It isn’t often that you are able to touch someone’s life so deeply and Haven was honored to offer this to him. She knew that Peter’s higher council would allow it, because any act of love is allowed, no matter how drastic it may be.

They headed back into the conference area and told the elders of their scheme.

“A walk-in?” Ruth asked, she hadn’t expected that to be an option, but she could see the determination in Haven.

“Yes,” Haven spoke. “I want to walk-in to his body and complete this life as Peter for him.”

“I will guide her, as she has guided me.” Peter knew that he could offer her guidance and direction and that she could mend the problems that he had created far better than he could at this point. He was too tied up in the energy from another incarnation to be able to find the light in his life as Peter. He would still have a certain degree of involvement in his children’s lives, and he knew that this probability was the path to take.

“It is well. We trust your decision.” Asa informed them, not protesting at all.

“Thank you for this, Haven. I know you hadn’t planned to incarnate in this era on earth, but I can see that it is a good option for the remainder of Peter’s life.” Ruth blessed the decision and sent the two on their way with love.

“Kiss the children for me.” Peter whispered as they hovered over his sleeping body. He and Haven promised to meet in the astral realm while Peter's body slept, and looked forward to those interactions very much. They really did love each other. Haven took a deep breath, in a moment or two Peter would awaken and his life would begin again. The cloud of pain that had followed him would dissipate and Haven would become a refuge for the fragile children that he had fathered and nearly abandoned. Haven would pull the pieces of his shattered career and life together and would live out his days for him, bringing a light and happiness that he was never able to bring.

He thought about physical touch and how he had deprived himself of it for so long. He wished he had hugged his children more, but knew that it was too late now. The gun was still resting on the side table and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Haven was saving him from another painful incarnation that would have followed him into another lifetime, causing more pain and suffering. He couldn’t thank her enough.

“It is time.” Haven said, preparing herself for the heaviness of depressed and unhealthy flesh. And with that Haven walked in to the sleeping body. For a moment they lingered there together as one, but as Peter opened his eyes to begin this new chapter of life, the former soul of Peter walked out.

He watched as his Haven, in his old body glanced at the hand gun and cringed. He watched as he smelled the mattress and surveyed the damage that a life unlived had done to his apartment and couldn't help but smile. The new Peter had no idea what dramatic change had taken place within him, but already felt the difference that Haven’s presence would bring to his life. For the first time in many years, there was a sense of hope in the air, and that was a start.

Luckily, thanks to Haven’s sweet sacrifice, this story ends with a classic, heartfelt, and hard-earned:

“ AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.”

 And they really did.