The Final Life of Nathaniel Moon

by Shawn Inmon

  “Maybe that’s not fair, though. Yes, you were the same person, but, to all appearances you were an ordinary man. You worked in a hospital, you lived alone—“

  “—Except for my dog.”

  “—yes, except for your dog. So people may not have known you were capable of such extraordinary feats.”

  “Is that the standard, then? ‘Can someone perform what the world will see as miracles?’ If so, that’s a pretty difficult standard to reach.”

  Laura, shifted, tapped her pen against her cheek.

  “Let’s change tacks a bit then. Have you always been able to perform ‘miracles,’ as you say?”

  “Yes. But, I’m not alone. We all can. You could. Larry over there, behind the camera, he could.”

  Larry, who had been a disinterested observer, peeked around the camera with a “Who, me?” expression.

  Nathaniel winked at him, then turned his attention back to Laura.

  “Let’s table that for the moment, and come back to it. You say you’ve always been able to do these things. Tell me about the first time you did something extraordinary.”

  “My first memory is waking up in my mother’s womb.”

  Laura did her best to remain a disinterested third party, but her jaw fell open slightly.

  “I know that seems extraordinary, but I believe we all do that, then we proceed to forget about it. If not by birth, then not long after. In my case, though, my mother was under extreme stress at the time, and we began to communicate.”

  “Wait,” Laura said, raising her hand. “I just want to clarify. You’re saying you were completely conscious in the womb—aware of your surroundings—and that you communicated with your mother.”

  “Yes.”

  Laura shook her head. “I can’t imagine if my child had reached out to me in the womb. Frankly, I think it would have freaked me out.”

  “Now imagine that you are all alone, fleeing for your life from an abuser, and that happens. My mother is an extraordinary woman.” Nathaniel glanced at his mother through the glass and smiled. Tears glistened in Violet’s eyes as she fluttered her fingers at him.

  “Did you perform any miracles as a child?”

  Nathaniel paused, thinking. “When I was very young, I healed two people. My mom was, rightfully, concerned that things were going to spin out of control—basically, that she was going to lose me to a process she couldn’t have stopped.”

  “I understand that. If my child performed miraculous acts, that’s one thing. If I’m afraid that someone might take my child away from me because of it, that’s something else altogether. So, bearing that in mind, how did your mother react?”

  “We ran. We packed what we could into our car, and we left. We drove until we just about ran out of road to drive on, and that’s how we ended up in Middle Falls.”

  “But you were still very young then, correct?”

  “Yes. I was four.”

  “Four. But you’ve lived in Middle Falls ever since, correct?”

  Nathaniel nodded.

  “So nothing to attract attention to yourself? No more miracles, so to speak?”

  “Not exactly. I still did my best to help people where I could. I just tried to do it in such a way that we wouldn’t have to move again. I might have seen a neighbor of ours suffering from arthritis at the grocery store. If I just touched her arm when we said hello, her pain would go away. I did my best to be discrete. I liked Middle Falls. I didn’t want to have to leave it. Plus, simple acts of kindness can add up just as much as a public miracle. If you see someone who is hungry, you can feed them. If someone is lonely, you can spend time with them. If you open your eyes, there are opportunities everywhere.”

  “All these years, then, you’ve essentially kept these miraculous abilities under wraps. Until yesterday, when you made quite a splash. What changed?”

  “Perspective is everything. There are tragedies every day. More than eight million people die from cancer every year. That means twenty-two thousand families are having a very bad day, every single day. If I was able to save a new person every five seconds, twenty-four hours a day, I couldn’t save them all. And, even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.”

  “That surprises me. Why not?”

  “We all have a hand in planning out what our lives are going to be like, based on what we feel we need to learn in this life. For example, if I feel I need to learn humility, I might choose a life that humbles me.”

  “You’re saying then, that before we are born, we choose what kind of life we’re going to live.”

  “We all have free will, but I think we each put a lot of planning into what the circumstances of our lives will be before we are born. Some lives can be like a vacation. We’ve all known people who seem to be good at everything, right? Pick up a tennis racket, and they’re quickly beating experienced players. Sit down at a piano and just begin plunking out a song. Those lives are fun, and can recharge our batteries, but they’re not good for learning anything. Success is a terrible teacher. We learn when we fail at something.”

  Laura opened her mouth to ask a follow up question, but Nathaniel continued.

  “If I begin making wholesale changes in people’s lives, including when and how they die, I will negate a lot of that planning. The divine part of me, which we all have, is able to think that way, to distance myself. But yesterday, my friends were in such pain, such fear that they were going to lose their daughter, that I interfered.”

  “According to what you just said, though, you would theoretically be harming them in the long run.”

  “I agree. That’s why I don’t think what I did yesterday was necessarily a good thing. It was likely a weakness on my part, or a test that I failed. That’s the human part of me. I never said I was perfect. I just brought a little more perspective with me from my last life.”

  “Let’s talk about the reactions to what happened in Middle Falls yesterday. As I was preparing for this interview, I read stories about you from around the globe. Let me read you some of the headlines, and, if I could, get your reaction to them.”

  “Sure.”

  “The Great Middle Falls Bomb Hoax.”

  “I wish more people believed that. It would make my life easier.”

  “Middle Falls Messiah.”

  “Not even close. What’s the definition of a messiah? A person who wants to lead a group of people, or a cause. I have no interest in any of that. I don’t believe such things, overall, are beneficial.”

  “Messiahs, or causes?”

  “Both.”

  “Let’s stay there for a moment. Are you saying that religion is bad? Christianity?”

  “I don’t like to label things like that. Here’s the thing about humans: we fear death. We are afraid it is the long blackness, a total loss of our unique consciousness. So, we create stories, myths, of what happens to us on the other side of that curtain. That makes us feel better. It lets us ignore that fear of death for long stretches. But, there are certain things that are simply beyond our comprehension. In our human forms, it is almost impossible to truly comprehend the divine. But, that doesn’t stop us from trying to quantify it, name it, limit it by using words to capture it. The divine is so vast, it cannot be reduced down enough for us to grasp in this form, but that doesn’t stop us from trying. If I have a secret, it is knowing that the divine is inevitable. We are moving toward it at exactly the speed we are intended. No matter what we do, whether we expend incredible energy, or none at all, we will arrive there at the same moment.”

  Nathaniel paused, made eye contact with Violet in the control room. “I’m no theologian, but I see dangers in all organized religion.”

  On the other side of the glass, Violet hung her head and whispered, “Oh, Nathaniel, you know what that will do.”

  “Such as?”

  “Dogma can act as a salve for the itch of self-discovery. If all the answers are bundled into a book, or a single philosophy, or act, that doesn’t encourage you to continue
to quest to find any other truths. When someone hands me a package, and says, ‘This is all you need,’ I am suspicious. And of course, there is the weight of history. If you take all the good that religions do and put it on one side of a scale, and all the harm it has done on the right, which weighs most heavily?”

  “That’s not likely to be a popular opinion.”

  “Good thing I’m not running for office. Have you ever looked at it this way? Why were all the miraculous deeds limited to ancient times? If men and women of God were able to manifest miracles then, why not now?”

  “I’m guessing you have an answer to that.”

  “I have a theory. If say, Jesus Christ was on Earth now, and he performed the miracle of the loaves and fishes, what would result? He would be besieged with requests to end world hunger, to magnify his miracle a million fold. If he healed the lepers, he would be overwhelmed with crowds of the sick and dying everywhere he went, until he was stifled by them. His voice wouldn’t be heard above the din of the crowd. In all likelihood, some government somewhere would step in and try to harness his miraculous gifts for their own ends.”

  “Does that same thinking apply to you?”

  “Of course. If I could have walked and talked to people and helped those I could while sharing any messages I might have, that would have been a life worth living. In our world, though, we have vaccinated ourselves from miracles and miracle workers by creating a communication network that makes it impossible to spend the needed time with people. I don’t think that if I spread my message on a Facebook page, or Twitter account, that it would have had the same impact. Even if I had climbed to a mountain top, I believe the lines would have stretched to the bottom. Do you doubt it?”

  Laura shook her head, agreeing with Nathaniel. “You said just now that you had messages you would have been interested in sharing with the world. I’m sure this interview will be seen by untold millions for many years to come, so what message would you like to share with us?”

  “One of my core beliefs is to not give unsolicited advice. But since you asked, I will tell you some of the things I believe. If you’ll keep in mind that I am just as human as everyone else, and that everything I say might be wrong.”

  “All right ...”

  “We look for happiness outside of ourselves—cars, television, houses, social media—but freedom and happiness can only be found within ourselves. And I don’t mean to say this is a new human condition. Before technology became what so many worshipped, we had the same problem. People thought If only I made ten thousand more dollars per year, I would be happy. Or, If only she would love me, then my life would be perfect. Or, If only God would bless us with a child, our life would be complete. Here’s an enduring truth: If you’re not happy with what you have, you will never be happy with anything you get.”

  “Profound.”

  “I think I read that in a greeting card. You’ve got to find your life’s truths where you can.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Laura paused for three beats, then glanced at Scott in the control room. “Let’s take a quick break here.”

  Larry stepped out from behind the camera and walked over to the set. He was a large man with a Rasputin beard that reached his chest. “Laura, I’m sorry, and I know we talked about this, but I’ll never get another chance like this.” He turned to Nathaniel, a pleading look in his eyes. “I have a little girl that’s never walked. If she was here, could you make it so she could?”

  “Would you want me to?”

  “Of course!”

  “Most importantly, would she want me to? She chose this life, chose her limitations, because she wanted to learn something. If I change that, she might have to live another entire lifetime. Would that be worth it to her?”

  He looked nervously at Laura. “Would you ask her yourself?”

  “Larry!” Laura said. “We all agreed that we would be professionals about this.”

  “I know, I know, but what if it was your little girl, Laura? Wouldn’t you do anything for her?”

  That hit Laura where she lived. She had given up her career and moved to a small town to give her daughter a better life. “Of course I would,” she said softly. “Is she here?”

  Larry didn’t dare speak, but he nodded. Laura looked at Nathaniel.

  “It’s fine with me, but I don’t want the camera on. It’s not fair for her.”

  Larry said, “Thank you!” and hurried through the studio door, only to return seconds later pushing a young girl in a wheelchair. A woman, who Nathaniel assumed was her mother, trailed behind.

  Nathaniel stepped off the set, walked to the girl and knelt in front of her chair so their eyes were at the same level. “What’s your name?”

  “Grace.”

  “Of course. Grace.” Nathaniel looked deeply into her eyes. “And you are full of grace, aren’t you?” He reached out and held her small hand in both of his. “Do you know what your Mom and Dad are asking? They want me to help you walk. I understand how attractive that is, but think, just for a moment. There might be reasons why your beautiful spirit chose this body. Maybe you are intended to inspire, to lead, but do it from this wheelchair.”

  Grace considered that carefully. “If I chose to be this way, I’ve changed my mind. I want to run with my friends. I want to go hiking with Daddy and Tuffy, our dog. I want that more than anything.”

  Nathaniel nodded, then released her hands and reached out to hug her. Grace laid her head against his shoulder. Nathaniel stood and smiled at her. “You can walk, Grace.”

  Effortlessly, she stood. Nathaniel opened his arms and she took two tentative steps toward him, then fell into another hug. She turned to her parents with a smile as wide as Texas.

  “Goodness,” Grace’s mother said, crossing herself, then put her hand to her mouth as her tears flowed.

  Larry looked at Nathaniel and shook his head. His eyes were dry, but wide with what he had just witnessed. “I have no words for what this means to us.”

  “I’m glad I came here, so I could help.” Nathaniel shook hands with Larry and his wife, then stood in front of Grace, who twirled once, just to show she could. “You’re going to have a good long life now, Grace. I hope you fill it with happiness.” He turned and stepped back up on the set. “Okay, ready to go, Laura?”

  “Y-yes. Mr. Moon, that was unbelievable. I’ve known Grace for years, and I’ve never seen her out of that chair. I cannot imagine the incredible responsibility you have.”

  Larry, his wife, and Grace all engaged in a long group hug until Larry broke away. “Hon, I’ve got to go back to work. I’ll be home soon. Let’s go out for pizza tonight to celebrate.”

  Grace said, “Yay!” and she and her mother left the studio, Grace pushing the wheelchair.

  Laura did her best to recover her cool. She poured two glasses of water from the pitcher and handed one to Nathaniel. “These studio lights are hot.”

  “I was born in Arkansas. Heat has never bothered me. But, thank you,” he said, as he accepted the water and took a drink.

  “You look at the world differently than anyone I’ve ever met. I am so pleased you called us. When I woke up this morning, I thought the highlight of my day would be watching Criminal Minds reruns with my daughter.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Thirteen. That horrible, arid desert between childhood and adulthood, when she’s sure Mom knows nothing about anything. Do you have children? I’ve tried to keep the most personal questions out of the interview because I don’t think they’re relevant.”

  “No, no kids, no wife. I knew this day was coming, and I didn’t want to expose them to this craziness.”

  “Understood.” Laura glanced into the control room. “Larry? Scott? I think we’re ready.” She gave them a moment to get back into position. “I’ll give us a countdown. In 3, 2, 1.”

  Laura’s demeanor changed, from quiet and intimate, back to professional. “This is Laura Hall, once again with the man some are calli
ng The Middle Falls Messiah, Nathaniel Moon. We were just talking about any messages you might have for the world at large. Is there anything else you would like to say?”

  “Of course. There’s always more to say. That’s why rabbis have gathered in Temple for thousands of years. It’s part of why coffee houses and bars are so popular. Well, aside from the coffee and booze. It’s the communion. The figuring out. Some things we can only learn alone, but others, we learn by communicating with each other.” Nathaniel paused, thinking. “Are you aware of The Secret? About the law of attraction, and how it works?”

  “Of course,” Laura said with a smile. “If it was ever on Oprah, I saw it. What do you think about it?”

  “I think The Law of Attraction works perfectly, one hundred percent of the time.”

  Laura sat back. “Really? I’m surprised to hear you say that. I’ve known people who did their best to manifest things through visualization, and have had no success. If it works every time, why isn’t everyone rich, thin, and happy?”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Right. You’re talking about conscious state manifesting. That’s very hit or miss. Far more miss than hit, I would say. I maintain that each of us gets exactly what we truly want, on a deep, spiritual level. If people aren’t rich, or thin, or happy, it’s because that’s not the path they chose to walk for this life. The life pattern that we set in motion before birth is much more powerful than what we think we want now. The system is wired so we can’t change our minds mid-stream, essentially.”

  Nathaniel looked directly into the camera lens. Through it, almost, until Larry peeked his head around again and made eye contact with him. Nathaniel let a small grin play across his face, then said, “There are exceptions, of course, as there are to anything.”