Chapter 1
The Dragon and the Man
The first thing I realized is that some kind of entity was leading me deeper into the water. It entered my awareness that same disorienting way it is when you wake up, and don’t know where you are, and have to figure it out. I also knew I had just ditched a brand new plane in the sea because I could still see it in my mind’s eye, far away in the water. That I could use my mind’s eye should have seemed unusual, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why . . .
Then it occurred to me I didn’t know how much time had elapsed. What I did know is I continued to be led deeper into the water and I had all my cognitive abilities. I figured that because I felt with strong certainty I was of sound mind, body and spirit. Which is why I think it’s rather funny that it took me so long to notice that I didn’t have to breath. So much for my body . . .
Right on the heels of that I discovered something wonderful—whatever my body was now, for surely I still felt like I had one, it felt livelier then it had in years. I was experiencing a buoyancy of ‘being’ that had nothing to do with the water. Perhaps in the absence of a flesh and blood body, a new and improved ‘spirit body’ made room for the feelings. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, I was more than happy to keep feeling this way. If it were to last forever, that would suit me just fine, thank you.
I didn’t have the foggiest idea what propelled us. I suppose the entity was simply pulling me along beside it, but that didn’t explain how it moved. I could also feel the water moving past me, but it felt strange. I’ve never felt anything like it before. I think I could have been led to believe during life that there wouldn’t be any resistance while moving through water when one was deceased . . . assuming again one could move through water when one was deceased. Maybe what I’m getting at is that the water just felt better than it should have. The saying ‘too-much-fun’ comes to my mind . . .
I could also see quite well in what should have been pitch-black depths—and that shouldn’t have even been possible. But for example, if I’d been up near the surface on a sunny day and had on a scuba mask, I still couldn’t see as far as I could see now. Without a doubt, it should have been impossible to see this far under water.
Concerning the darkness, it really wasn’t dark, because things glowed with a luminescence all by themselves. The glow spread into the surrounding areas and everything stood out in relief from everything else. It never dawned on me there were so many things under the sea.
Soon I could see faint, translucent outlines of unusually structured shapes and the entity and I moved forward through them. There’s no way I had ever seen anything like them before. They were so faint, I could see them better if I didn’t look straight at them. They were ponderously huge and structural or mechanical like in design. They flowed with such fluidity into each other it reminded me of the fantastic precision one often finds in nature. The shapes moved, too, within and upon and around each other, pivoting and sliding and turning, though how and for what purpose I knew not. They fit into the natural surroundings as if they belonged there and disappeared into the distance.
Gradually the shapes grew brighter and more definite. Promptly the floor of the ocean materialized. From so far away, it looked utterly alien. Now I could tell all the strange mechanical like shapes attached to the floor of the ocean and if possible, looked to have grown out of it. Or maybe they were simply anchored there. I don’t know which. Either way, they fit with such seamless precision to where they attached, I couldn’t doubt they belonged there.
As the seabed approached I figured out where we were going because we headed straight for one object. It was shaped like a bell or a dome and it had six flattened sides. Like all the other fantastic translucent shapes it had perfect form. From far away it looked small but drawing near it loomed as tall as a ten-story building.
The six sides were perfectly symmetrical and so exact they looked as if they’d been sliced from the dome by a giant laser. Right before we got there the flat parts slid aside together—and passing through, it seemed the mysterious walls held up the entire weight of the ocean.
As quick as that we were through and walking down a dry path in a cave. The transition flowed as seamless as the transition of a dream. The floor of the cave seemed to be hard-packed dirt. It was covered with dust and relatively flat. The walls were the same rough-stone cave walls are always made of and curved up to form an arched ceiling.
Everything here was lit in a strange surreal kind of twilight where nothing stood out more illumined than anything else. Floor, walls and ceiling all radiated the same soft glow. There weren’t any shadows and the worst that could be said for dark corners is they were just a bit duller.
Then I had another pleasant surprise—my mood had changed. The difference is that while I was in the ocean I was curious, but now a happiness infused me and I felt certain I didn’t need to fear any harm. The entity was still with me, though if I tried to look at it, it disappeared. But if I kept looking straight ahead, it constantly remained on my right side, a presence I couldn’t touch, a light that cast no radiance, steadily intruding upon my peripheral vision.
Without a sound the entity led me deeper into the underwater sanctuary. Sometimes we cut through a large chamber before exiting the other end. Other times it looked like we walked through a tunnel. Once in a while we went under a bridge. Occasionally secondary corridors came along but we always stuck to the main branch. Our route gradually led down, sometimes curving, sometimes steep, until finally it opened upon a huge cavern.
At first, boulders blocked my view. But as we stepped past the last one, I saw the cavern was home to a underground lake. The lake was simply gigantic and had an island smack dab right in the middle of it.
Seeing the lake triggered memories of how I used to wonder what it’d be like to die. Maybe it had something to do with the fact I’d been baptized in a lake. Being baptized under water was a way of saying my old, sinful nature died with Christ on the cross. And being raised up out of the water meant I was raised with him in newness of life. But either way you remember it, the bottom line is, after I died, I was supposed to be in the presence of the Lord. But this was something else.
As if answering me, the entity beckoned me to get in a small boat at the edge of the water. I could have sworn it told me my questions would shortly be answered, though I know I didn’t hear a voice.
I got in the boat and it headed towards the island. I felt it moved by the same power that had propelled me under the sea. Then it began to circle the island. The island had sheer, nearly vertical walls everywhere except for one spot. As soon as I thought that’s where we should go, the boat zeroed in on it and went straight there. The spot was a raised landing that we had nearly circled the island to find.
As the boat approached the landing, it coasted to a stop. I docked the boat and stepped up on the landing. An inviting stairway led up so I began to climb. It was quite steep but the climbing was effortless. Reaching the top more boulders blocked my view so I maneuvered through them to see what was there.
Finally breaking into the open I received the biggest shock of my life—for not twelve feet away sat a dragon whose face was so big I had to turn my head right or left just to past see either side! The surprise on my face must have been priceless, because the reaction it elicited from the dragon was even more spectacular. And that put me entirely and completely off balance. The reason for that is, the expression on the dragon’s face was hysterically funny . . .
It was,—Don’t look at me like I’m the Devil—I’m more scared of him than you’d be!
About a million things shot through my head but I latched onto, ‘More scared than I’d be?’
As clear as ink on paper his expression said,—If you were in my shoes.
After which he just sat there and stared at me.
So I started wondering—fast. I did the same thing anybody else would do and tried t
o figure out what was going on. Problem was, I drew a blank. I’ve never believed in dragons before, let alone gigantic, telepathic ones. I didn’t know whether to be surprised, astonished or petrified. Or all of the above.
At which point the dragon said by facial expression, again without speaking,—Now you see why men have always feared dragons.
I was stunned. Thrust face to face into a confrontation with a telepathic dragon communicating through his facial expression left me quite speechless. Totally by accident I thought, ‘what can I hide from a dragon?’ But seeing the possibly offensive nature of that thought, I squelched it for something, anything more polite which turned out to be, “What does this dragon want me to do?”
Instantly he communicated, again just with his face,—Accept the chore you’ve been picked for.
All of this was happening so fast I didn’t have time to make rationalizations. It was all I could do to just hang on and keep up with him. I said in my mind, “What chore?”
—You’re it.
Again, without a word, his face said it all. Then an uncomfortable sensation like I was at the wrong end of a joke began to tease my mind. As I tried to adjust to being read faster than a book, I could have sworn I heard the rowdiest laughter of my life. Or perhaps I should say, since my life. Though as soon as I thought that, the hint of laughter died away and was replaced by a sense of mercy. It was weird.
The friendly dragon’s face withheld all comments and just looked at me. Which I figured he was because he hadn’t tried to eat me yet. Some of his fangs had to be longer than I was tall. I imagined it was about time to punt. In my mind I said, “I’m it for what?”
The answer promptly arrived,—The chore.
I started to wonder if this guy always communicated in a ‘two steps forward, one step back’ fashion, but thought I’d better keep that to myself, supposedly, and said, “What chore?”
—You’re it because you’re the last one to die.
Absorbing that with a sideways glance knowing I didn’t get it yet, I looked back at him and saw,—So you get to do the chore.
I felt the laughter again. I figured I’d better keep questioning the dragon. “Last one to die?”
—Before the Lord began the end-time judgments.
Just like that I was back on solid ground. Even if I didn’t know anything else, the terrible end-time prophesies had finally begun. I was here, wherever this was, talking to a dragon who said I’d been picked for a task because I’m the last one to die . . . The obvious question was, “Picked by who?”
—The Lord.
“The Lord? To do a chore?”
—You might call it a blessing, his expression said, though I wasn’t used to it. And wasn’t sure I ever would be.
“What does he want me to do?”
—You get to tell the story.
Needless to say, I didn’t understand. “Of what?”
—Of after His return. Then I knew I heard laughter, although it was faint and wasn’t the kind you hear with your ears. I thought I’d ignore it and hoped I was finally getting somewhere.
“How?”
—By watching and telling, came the expected silent response.
I wondered why the dragon didn’t speak out loud and thought if this dragon is just a messenger, I probably had a little latitude. I asked, “Why don’t you speak out loud?”
Instantly the dragon became angry and his countenance fell. I felt something like ‘. . . I’m going to give this—man—one chance for you, Lord . . .’ while the dragon’s face struggled not to show,—silly—man—thinks everything should be like—him . . . which abruptly ended as the dragon’s face projected a crystal clear, —Don’t.
Hesitantly I wondered if there were any questions that didn’t offend him as I simultaneously remembered I had just been asking lots of questions. I knew I needed to find the right track and stay on it.
Just like that, the dragon’s countenance relaxed. In a decidedly much humbler attitude I wondered if it was okay to ask him if he had a name.
It must have been the right thing because his face instantly reflected approval. He expressed, —Ackseekcelong-Sayessa is my name. You may call me Ace.
Naturally a lot of thoughts parried for attention in my mind but I was just beginning to understand my new circumstances and sadness overcame me. I hadn’t had the time to contemplate what it meant to die, hadn’t thought about my wife and daughter who were now alone and what it meant for them, hadn’t thought about what the end-times events held for anyone . . . hadn’t done anything except been shocked to the core of my being. So I became quiet and just looked at the dragon.
As if on cue, his expression communicated to me as clearly as if he were putting his thoughts in my mind,—Your wife and daughter are in heaven.
For some strange reason, I wasn’t impressed. I mean, you’d think that would be something that would impress me, since that was the focus of our lives. But if anything it made me sadder, nailing home the reality I would never go home and even if I did, they wouldn’t be there. I wasn’t so sad I felt like saying ‘so what,’ but to tell you the truth, I felt jilted. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it, either. I remembered how sometimes things get worse before they get better. I began to hope this wasn’t going to be one of those times.
My stewing lasted about that long and then rising to the occasion, I felt a surge of energy and motivation and new strength inspired me. Doesn’t take long I guess, sometimes. Maybe in the afterlife there are fewer things to work through before you get on with it. Then again, maybe the Holy Spirit quickened me to cause me to let go of my less than perfect attitude. Either way, the only way I could go was forward.
I felt like professional courtesy might be a good place to start so I asked Ace, “What’s your protocol?”
He looked at me in what I could only call an endearing fashion and expressed,—Don’t overstep your bounds, don’t joke, don’t assume anything.
“What about questions?”
—Ask anything but silly questions.
No doubt, I had a lot to think about. And any number of places to start. I figured the best thing to do would be to pray and ask for direction. But have you ever tried to pray when a giant dragon is staring at you?
Apparently it didn’t matter, because as quick as I shucked off worrying about the dragon, I had my answer. And the answer was to seek as expeditious a route through the chore as possible. Which sort of left the dragon in control. Because only he knew what was going on.
Truthfully though, I felt encouraged by the direction and wanted to get the show on the road. The sooner the better.
I asked Ace, “Where do we start?”
Beginning a pattern of regularly and effortlessly destroying my expectations, Ace’s expression said,—That’s up to you.