Chapter 1 - Death
It all happened in the early morning hours on a cold November night. Jenny and I had been out celebrating our third wedding anniversary. That, along with a few drinks and some friends, and I was on a high and blissfully unaware that in a few minutes I was about to die!
We were simply cruising along Morningside Drive in Harlem, not yet wanting to go home. On our west side was Morningside Park with its sheer cliffs, on top of which strode the affluence of Morningside Heights itself. Here, like another world, stood the majestic Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. Nearby, in yet another world that was academia, was the sprawling campus of Columbia and its affiliated institutions, as well as the prestigious Manhattan School of Music where I taught.
However, at that moment, my mind was on my beloved Jenny. She was twenty-seven, and with her long, blond hair, sky-blue eyes and trim body, she looked every bit as beautiful as on the first day we had met when she had been on vacation in my home town of Portland. I had just gone through some tough times. My mother had died after a long bout of illness less than six months before. As a child, I had already lost my father, killed in a logging accident in Oregon's rugged Cascade Range. Now, with all my family gone, I felt all alone, although my music tuitions, regular gigs, and even my religion had kept me busy enough. Yet, the pain and loneliness persisted. Then along came this wonderful New York girl. We had first met in a rather pricey restaurant where I had been performing that night. During my break, we were introduced and quickly discovered we had a lot in common. We both played the classical guitar, both loved books, parks and gardens, as well as shared the same religious faith. What was more, I had known her relatives with whom she was staying, and had taken her out that night.
Suddenly, in the mist of these reveries, I heard the splutter of the engine. The automobile jerked a couple of times and died. I glanced down at the instrument panel and sighed.
"No! Don't tell me!" Jenny exclaimed.
"Yep, we're out of gas." I gave a quick reassuring smile, then added, "But don't worry, honey, everything's fine. I keep some gas for reserve. Remember?" She returned a wry smile. Of course, she remembered - it was the third time this year that we had ran out of gas.
Morningside Park had been notorious in the past for its muggings and even murders, yet, despite its improved image, I knew only too well this was not the best place to be in these late hours of the night. However, not seeing anybody, I opened the door and immediately felt a cold chill on my face. Reluctantly, I got out, walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. I then rummaged through some junk before I found the metal container. I was about to reach out for it when I felt a cold chill akin to ice water passing down my spine. I glanced backwards and saw a huge, black youth grinning menacingly at me.
"Hey you! What ya doin here?" he sneered.
"I'm out of gas," I heard myself feebly reply.
"Out of gas!" He gave a sarcastic laugh, reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a gun, thrusting it into my chest. With his free hand, he viciously grasped my jacket collar so hard that I choked. "All right, you white...." He then ripped forth a whole string of profanities, insults and threats that reduced me to a quaking piece of jelly. "Now gimme the money!"
Too stunned to talk, he knotted the collar around my throat even tighter. "Pl...please, no!" I managed to croak.
"C'mon, the money, the money!" he snarled. Then, with the gun still pressed against my chest, and his vice-like fingers fastened around my collar, he dragged me like a rag doll around to the side of the car and pressed me hard against the back door.
"Yes! Take the mon-" I never finished the word. Jenny did the worst thing she could have done. She screamed and the gun went off.
A sharp, searing pain gripped my chest as I dropped onto my knees. I looked up and noticed his stunned expression. Then he pushed me aside and ran.
My chest seemed on fire as I felt the front of my jacket wet with blood. "Oh, David! David!" I heard Jenny scream. I tried to lift my arm towards her, but crumbled face first onto the sidewalk.
Somehow I managed to lift up my head, blood now spurting from my broken nose. Through blurry vision, I saw that Jenny was still screaming, yet strangely, her screams seemed as if afar. I opened my mouth, desperately trying to talk, yet only managed an inarticulate groan. Mercifully, the pain eased, but I felt ever colder and lighter as the blood drained out of me. My head crashed once more onto the sidewalk. I then saw a hazy outline of Jenny kneeling beside me, cradling my face and pleading: "My God! Help us! Help us!"
It made no difference. The end was near. Jenny's face faded away and incredibly other images appeared, many images, including those from the distant and long forgotten past. I saw myself as a toddler, my mother embracing me after I had nearly drowned. Then I saw an image of my father sitting me on his knees and making babyish faces at me. Other images flashed past, of later scenes of childhood, of my parents, church, school and friends. I saw my mother's shocked face as she was told of my father's sudden death. The scene then shifted to his funeral, her eyes and mine full of tears. I saw others comforting us, mentioning the paradise and resurrection. Other memories also flashed by, less painful, many even joyful. I saw myself pleased to play my first song on the guitar, then seeing my fondness for music ever increasing, then learning to play the piano as well. I then saw myself becoming ever more proficient, finally graduating with my music degree. However, next came the painful vision of my mother's prolonged illness, and of her inevitable death. I saw myself crying at her funeral whilst others tried in vain to comfort me. Flashes of Jenny then appeared: our first meeting, our wedding, and moving to our New York home. I saw myself tutoring, then performing in concert, then the two of us going to our church. Finally, came our third anniversary, our drive home, and the gunshot to the chest. All these things and more flashed before me, of things that I had done right, and the things I had not, the people I had helped, and the ones I had hurt.
Then, just as suddenly as it had come, my life review had ended. Somewhere I heard the sound of a siren, then a man's voice, and Jenny's sobs, so distant, so far away. I was seemingly getting lighter and entering a black tunnel, although I distinctly remembered seeing in the far, far distance, a strange but beautiful light. Finally, everything became black and silent as I entered into that great eternity that was commonly known as death.