“Michael Jackson is playing with Jimi Hendrix on guitar, John Bonham from Led Zeppelin on drums, and Cliff Burton from Metallica on the bass.”
That broke his stupor. “Wait a minute. All of those musicians are playing together? That’s an all-star line-up.” Hearing that Michael Jackson would lead some of the greatest rock musicians in history caught his attention in a way that nothing had for quite some time. “That’s insane. I have to go.”
“Well, there is one more element to the group that I haven’t mentioned. He rounds out the group in a way that hasn’t ever been conceived of.”
Mei Lee looked impressed. “Randy Rhodes from Ozzy Osbourne’s group is in the mix to back up Jimi on guitar?”
“Apparently, Mr. Hendrix had been jamming with Bonham, but he wanted to concentrate on the guitar, so he reached out to Michael Jackson to join them. Since Mr. Jackson had a penchant for using hard rock guitarists in his own work, he wanted to give it a try.”
“Okay, you calling the King of Pop…Mr. Jackson. That’s just too weird. And Jimi Hendrix? Call him Jimi. Give them a little respect!”
Mei Lee said, “It seems Randy Rhodes was trained as a classical guitarist. And Cliff Burton was quite fond of classical music as well. These two men approached Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with the idea of playing to his symphonic compositions. When Mr. Hendrix,” she said, pausing to smile, “heard about the idea, he wanted Mr. Jackson and Mr. Bonham to join in.”
“You’re saying Mozart will lead the King of Pop and a badass group of musicians in concert? Holy shit!” He glanced up. “You can forgive me this once, right?”
“It gets even better than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In the Hall of Wisdom, after having finished reading Nick’s chart at a mahogany, rectangular table, Nina looked up to find Roland standing opposite her. “I knew there was something special about me and Nick.” But the idea that they were soul mates astounded her. In the best possible way imaginable. That’s when she realized the reason she, and probably everyone else on earth, were always looking for their soul mates: because they knew their other half existed. They just didn’t know how to find them. “But why did you say it was not a good idea to meet your soul mate on earth?”
“Because living on earth batters your spirit and threatens to rip your soul to shreds.”
“Isn’t that even more reason to have your soul mate beside you? So both of you could get through all of the difficult times together?”
“That’s quite the romantic notion. And I can understand why you’d feel that way. Who wouldn’t want to rely on the one person that knows you best? But just because you are soul mates doesn’t mean you both want to incarnate at the same time. And most often, soul mates will want to work on perfecting different aspects of their souls. In these instances, what may be necessary for one of you may not be something your other half needs, or even wants, to experience.
Nina understood the logic behind that statement. But she felt that she’d always wanted her soul mate to stand with her against whatever the future might hold. Perhaps that was why she and Nick decided to visit earth at the same time.
Since she couldn’t read her own chart, Nina had to assume that what she’d read in Nick’s chart somehow mirrored her own. Or at least touched on similar aspects. Although Nick had found familial love, he’d lost it, whereas she never had it to begin with. Nick’s fear of losing love resulted in a reluctance to commit, while Nina felt starved for affection. She could now see why both of them needed each other on earth – to make each other believe in love and how it can transform their souls.
But since life, like love, never ran smoothly, she and Nick would need each other to make it through whatever life had in store for them. Which would be a difficult task because, based on their experiences, Nick might pull away, and she would keep trying to draw him toward her. And that type of relationship could prove combustible, leaving both of them dispirited and angry – if they didn’t remain close and communicate to the best of their ability.
“So why does the book just go blank at this point?” Nina asked, pointing to the blank pages after the accident on the street that Nick had tried to save her from. “Right here, it specifically stated that Nick would try to save me from getting hit by a truck. But something tells me this isn’t ordinary. That we don’t normally stipulate how we die.”
“There are some things I can’t disclose to you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“In this instance, I won’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because you and Nicholas asked Mei Lee and I not to disclose the reasons why you both wanted to read each other’s charts as well as why you and Nicholas get hit by that vehicle.”
“Well, shouldn’t I know those reasons? I’m in heaven, after all.”
“That’s true. But you do not have complete access to all of your knowledge and past experience just as Nicholas has even less access to all that heaven allows.”
“So what’s the reason behind that? You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Again, you’ve asked Mei Lee and me not to disclose those reasons.”
“I’m kind of a pain in the ass, aren’t I?”
He grinned. “Nicholas far surpasses you in that category.”
“There were other parts in Nick’s book that were vague, and they reminded me of the end here: it gave me the impression that there could have been blank pages following a dangerous incident. Why was it so vague?”
“We call those exit points. Imagine those instances as if you’re driving along the expressway, and you see an exit ramp. You have the opportunity to keep going or take that exit. That’s why Nicholas built these vague possibilities into his chart. He wanted to give himself the opportunity to take an exit if he so chose.”
“You mean exit…from life. You’re saying he had a few opportunities to die?”
Roland nodded.
“That’s suicide.”
“Not necessarily. It depends on whether or not Nicholas achieved the objectives he’d set out for himself upon incarnating.”
“So I’ve also placed exit points in my chart?”
“It’s possible, but I’m not privy to your chart. I can only view Nicholas’s chart.”
“But I thought anybody can look at any chart.”
“Generally, yes. But in this instance, you and Nicholas forbid Mei Lee and me from doing so. You both informed us that, before drawing up your contracts with God, you changed certain parts of your chart.”
“Why?”
“You were afraid that those new additions might test the bonds of our relationship.”
Nina felt anger building in her. “Is that what this blank page is? An exit point?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re saying that we might not be dead, after all?”
“In a matter of speaking.”
“Well, we’re either dead or we’re not. We can’t be in both places at the same time.”
“You’d be surprised. Some people get stuck between both sides.”
“You mean purgatory.”
“Indeed.”
“So what is purgatory? What does it look like?”
“Life on earth.”
“How could that be purgatory? You’re saying when we go to earth, we’re in purgatory?”
“Not at all. When you die and refuse to return to heaven, your spirit remains on earth, although no one but you knows that you exist.”
“You mean ghosts. Ghosts are in purgatory.”
“Yes.”
Nina got up from the table and placed the palms of her hands over her eye sockets. “This is so much to take in.” She removed her hands. “So if Nick and I aren’t really dead, what are we doing here? Is this a short vacation? Sort of a…‘no need to pack any clothing and don’t bother grabbing the sunscreen, we’re visiting heaven’ trip.”
“In a matter of speaking.”
“Will you stop with the generalities?”
“I’m afraid I really can’t give you any more details than that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“In this instance, I can’t.”
“So what now?”
Roland smiled. “I know where we’re going, but I don’t quite know what’s in store for you.”
*
Nick sat with Mei Lee on the steep-sloped stone steps of the most stupendous outdoor amphitheater he’d ever seen. Opposite him stood a recreation of a three-story stone theater structure that, according to Mei Lee, had originally been constructed in 161 AD on the south slope of the Acropolis of Athens, Greece. The only difference was that, in contrast to the original theater which could only seat 5,000 spectators, this theater seated hundreds of thousands.
Once more, Nick marveled at God’s ability to adjust physics to His own liking, which in this instance, allowed so many people to sit down at any point of the amphitheater and view the upcoming concert as if they sat in the front row. (Earlier, he had run up a few hundred steps to discover that his view of the stage hadn’t changed. And he suspected that, if he ran up another couple hundred, he would have been presented with the same perfect view.)
“Hi,” Nina said, upon appearing to his left.
Startled, Nick placed a hand to his chest. “If I had a heart in this dream, it would be pounding a hundred times a minute.”
She just laughed. “What’s going on?” She slanted her head toward Roland, who sat beside her. “He was kind of elusive when I asked him.”
Nick nodded at his spirit guide. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit with Mei Lee? I don’t think I’ve been the greatest company for her.”
“Imagine that,” Roland said. “I’m fine.”
Mei Lee sighed and shook her head in disgust.
The light overhead disappeared, leaving the entire theater in darkness, although outside the theater in every direction, the illumination continued unabated, making it look like the Lord had simply placed an enormous lamp shade over the theater. Inside the theater, spotlights attached to the stone structure ahead of them shot out into the crowd, lighting up the 60-piece orchestra below. Strangely enough, outside of the theater; in front of these musicians stood an enormous drum kit, and ahead of that stood a microphone stand.
Drums pounded from unseen speakers, followed by a saxophone and horns, playing the original Tonight Show Theme Song. Johnny Carson, who hosted the show from 1962-1992, and is still considered by many (on earth and in heaven) as the quintessential host of late night television, stepped out from behind the curtain wearing a white dress shirt under a black suit and red tie. He walked out on stage and waved to the crowd who jumped to their feet, whooping with excitement.
“Thank you,” Carson said, his voice booming throughout the theater while partially bowing. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” He looked confused for a moment. “With so much fist-pumping and chants of “Woo, Woo, Woo,” I’m guessing you were all expecting Arsenio Hall?”
The crowd rocked in delight.
“Honestly, who paid each of you to deliver such a long-winded welcome? The Almighty upstairs?” He looked skyward and nodded then looked out at the crowd. “Thank you all for attending tonight. We have quite a show for you. Just a reminder that in this very theater we’ll soon be graced with both Elvis Presley and John Lennon performing a duet of their hits “Imagine” and “Hound Dog” – only with a twist. This time it’ll be titled, “Imagine a Horn Dog.”
The applause reached new heights.
“My parents loved this guy,” Nick said. “But I prefer Jimmy Fallon.”
“I like Ellen DeGeneris,” said Nina.
“She’s not Late Night.”
“She’s still a talk show host.”
“But she comes out dancing, doesn’t she? Who does that?”
“Ellen. Besides, she’s funny. Jimmy Fallon’s not.”
“What?”
“Hey!” said Mei Lee and Roland in unison, prompting them to exchange glances, allowing brief smiles to light their features. Mei Lee said, “Give some respect to the godfather of late night.”
Carson said, “But tonight, I’d like to introduce you to this evening’s entertainment.”
One man walked onto the stage and waved to the crowd then took a seat behind the drum kit.
“Apparently, John Bonham needs no introduction.” He looked at the drummer. “Way to make a man feel unimportant.”
Bonham hit the punch line drumroll: ba-dum-bum.
The crowd cheered as the venue lights swirled through the audience.
Two men with guitars strapped around their shoulders appeared on stage to tremendous applause: bassist, Cliff Burton, and lead guitarist, Randy Rhodes.
“It appears,” Carson said, “that I’m out of my element. Perhaps the Lord should have booked Dick Clark for this gig.” Then he caught sight of movement behind the curtain. “Allow me to introduce one of the greatest guitarists in history, Jimi Hendrix.”
The left-handed axeman stepped out to a standing ovation, playing the opening riffs to his most famous song, “Purple Haze.” Bonham and Burton provided the backing rhythm section to complete the song’s dynamic.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Carson said, “our next guest needs no introduction…So why am I here? But seriously, folks, here is the King of Pop: Michael Jackson.
Jackson moonwalked onto the stage wearing a white T-shirt, and a sparkling black jacket along with black pants and shoes. A black hat covered a mass of curly hair.
The crowd jumped up and down. They hollered, clapped, and whistled.
Jackson came to a stop beside Carson and stood in front of his band mates then bowed to them before clapping along to the beat and let out a quick, “shooka, shooka,” followed by a “he, he, he” that populated so many of his hits.
“He’s okay,” said Nick. “But he’s not one of my favorites. So why is Michael Jackson appearing in my dream?”
“Exactly,” said Nina.
Puzzled, Nick settled his gaze on the stage. “Oh, yeah? I’ll prove it to you that it’s a dream.” He stood silent, closed his eyes, blocked out the crowd, and cleared his mind. He concentrated on making Michael Jackson vanish with the same level of intensity he utilized while making the McDonald’s restaurant appear a while back. When he no longer heard Michael Jackson making his bizarre sounds, he opened his eyes and turned to Nina. “See? No more Michael Jackson.” He gestured toward the stage. “I’m sure you remember Kurt Cobain?”
“Oh, really? I didn’t think Cobain was black and touched his crotch all the time. And why do you think Michael did that? To make sure it’s still there?”
He looked and discovered that Michael Jackson still danced on stage. “Well, that can’t be right. I guess I just have to try harder.”
“Finally,” Johnny Carson said, “it is a tremendous honor to introduce one of the greatest musicians in history: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.” Carson left the stage as Mozart raced onto it with the glee of a seven-year old child in the throes of a sugar high.
Wearing a red overcoat unbuttoned at the throat, allowing a puffy white scarf-like article of clothing to stretch toward his sternum, Mozart gestured to Jackson, who motioned to his band-mates to end “Purple Haze.” Jackson shouted into the microphone, “All Aboard: ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.” Then Cliff Burton hit a number of ominous sounding bass beats in time with John Bonham’s drums before Randy Rhodes played the opening riffs of the song, Crazy Train, an Ozzy Osbourne staple that played during every NFL game.
But Jackson didn’t launch into Osbourne’s lyrics. Instead, he sliced a hand through the air, stopping the song. Then he deferred to Mozart, who signaled the guitarists to begin playing.
They ripped into the opening chords of Jackson’s song, “Black or White.” Soon the drums and bass held up the rhythm section. Then Mozart led the orchestra into a grand rendition, lifting the tune be
yond a simple song and into a major atmospheric masterpiece.
The audience clapped along while dancing in place with each other. Others held hands side-by-side or had strung their arms around each other’s shoulders and swayed to the music, giant smiles on their faces as they sang along to a world without color and without prejudice. But soon, by the way the crowd celebrated with delight, it became obvious that the song had overshadowed Jackson’s original intent and had included other social ills: equality among men and women and equality among each country: their leaders and their constituents.
Before Nick even had time to think about it, he found that he had joined hands with Nina. He didn’t know who had initiated contact and it didn’t matter. He just assumed that they must have gravitated toward each other by some cosmic force, the same one that had united everyone else around them. He was touched by the same amazing sensation he’d experienced while on the dance floor with Nina; that they shared a bond that went beyond words and mere physical affection: this was a soul connection.
He looked over to find her smiling at him. “What?”
“I thought you said that Michael was just okay.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you dancing to his music?”
Just as he was about to deny that claim, he looked down to find his legs and hips moving to the beat. How had this happened? Ashamed, he stopped dancing. Yet the disappointed look in Nina’s eyes, combined with the heavy groove on stage once more made his arms and hips move. He told his body to halt movement, but it wouldn’t listen. It just kept moving to the beat. And he soon realized that something inside him wanted to dance. And no matter how much his brain wanted to do otherwise, his spirit dismissed that command. Rather than fighting it, he decided to give in to the music.
The song, with such disparate instrumentation, should have resulted as an interesting experiment with good intentions that failed, especially considering that it amounted to a hard rock group led by a pop singer and backed by an orchestra. But for reasons he couldn’t understand, Nick had never heard a more exciting song in his life.
Beside him, Nina closed her eyes and swayed. Nick couldn’t recall an instance in his entire life when he felt more free and happy. He just let the good vibes roll over him.
Just Like Heaven Page 15
