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Kharmic Rebound

Page 87

by Yeager, Aaron


  In many ways he had been the most henpecked husband to ever exist. A joke and a byword to everyone in the Alliance, except to those few who knew him personally. Despite all that had happened to him, he found that he had much to be grateful for.

  The dull throbbing in his chest became sharp and he winced in pain. The edges of his vision became dark, and voices became distant.

  “Is this... the end?” he wonderd, as he felt himself fall down out of his body. The world melted away, and he found himself floating in a familiar place.

  He was back in the zone of infinite white. His chains hung around him, same as before, stretching out for miles in every direction. Before him floated a mirror image of himself.

  “Hello, Gerald,” his copy greeted. “It has been a while.”

  “Am I dead?”

  His doppleganger shrugged impishly. “The Trahzi did take quite a few bites out of you.”

  Gerald’s eyes came down sadly. “Was that all the time I had left?”

  Gerald looked up resentfully. “You are cruel. You didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

  “Of course I didn’t. You know, I’m pretty upset at you. You’re beyond insolent, forcing me to change my own laws like that.”

  “You’re just being a sore loser.”

  “Yes, I am. And because you were so presumptuous with me, I plan on passing some judgement on you.”

  Gerald’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

  The other Gerald laughed wildly and reached out and grabbed his chains. “I’ve been thinking for some time now about what to do about these.”

  He yanked back, and with a sharp snap, the chains around his soul broke free and fell away from him. They drifted away into the void around them, evaporating away until there was nothing left.

  It all happened so quickly Gerald didn’t even realize at first what had occured. His soul felt light, lighter than it had ever been. He felt a peace flowing up inside of him like a fountain of contentment.

  “But... how?” he asked in surprise, nearly in tears from joy.

  The other Gerald folded his arms and snickered. “Well, you did wish for Kharma to no longer pass from one life to the next, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but...”

  His copy threw up his arms. “Look at you, still interrupting me!”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s better. Now if you had wished it for yourself, there would have been a rebound. But you made that wish without any thought of yourself. In that moment, the only thing in your heart was concern for others. You were completely selfless. That surprised me. Do you realize in that single moment you overcame millions of years of instinct?

  Gerald’s eyes became distant. “Vashrya.”

  “Yes, you achieved Vashrya. And that got me thinking. Those chains, they really don’t belong to you, do they? They belong to the ArchTyrant. Since he has his own body now back on Central, I figured I’d go return them to their rightful owner.”

  Gerald was awestruck. “But, I wished it for everyone except myself.”

  “Did you?” his copy winked. “I guess I missed that part, must have had something stuck in my ear. Anyway, the ArchTyrant and you are separate people now, so don’t act like I’m breaking any rules or doing you any favors.”

  Gerald couldn’t hide how grateful he was.

  The other Gerald waved his arm. “Go on, scram. Get out of here, you little snot. Your chains are broken. Don’t ever come and bother me again.”

  A thought occurred to Gerald. “But the girls. They were supposed to be part of my punishment. Does this mean I lose them too?”

  The universe grinned. “Not all pain is punishment. Sometimes it is a blessing in disguise. You taught me that, remember?”

  His doppleganger snapped his fingers and Gerald fell down. The world felt warm again. He was flesh and blood again. He sat up and placed his hand over his heart. It was beating strongly, steadily.

  “I’m... not dead?”

  “Did I say you were?” a voice echoed in his mind. “I just didn’t feel like waiting till the end of your life, that’s all.”

  Gerald closed his eyes and said an honest and simple prayer. “Thank you.”

  He opened his eyes. The guilt, the crushing weight was gone. For the first time in as long as he could recall, he felt young.

  Lysandra ran up to him wearing an apron, a knife in her hand. She spun it around and offered him the handle. “Darling, we’re about to cut the cake, will you come join us?” He was so happy to see her eyes again. After everything that had happened to her, she had finally managed to find peace.

  That same peace was in his eyes looking back at her.

  Gerald nodded and took the knife. He stood up, and together they ran hand-in-hand over to the dessert table. Not once did he trip or accidentally cut himself.

  Everyone cheered as they approached.

  The End

  About the Author

  Follow me on facebook and twitter to receive updates on new books and events: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Aaron-Lee-Yeager/282416035209232

  https://twitter.com/AaronLeeYeager

  I come from a family of ballet dancers. (I know, right?) My parents actually met dancing at Ballet West together. So, the first few years of my life were spent backstage at productions like CATS, Dreamgirls, and A Chorus Line, where I developed a lifelong aversion to stage makeup. My parents even appeared in a few movies and TV shows, like Girls Just Wanna have fun, and the Tracy Ullman show, but that is about as much namedropping as I can currently muster. I spent two years living in Argentina as a missionary, where I became addicted to mayonnaise, and developed a crippling fear of small dogs. In college I studied aviation, and was well on my way to becoming a commercial airline pilot when I suddenly developed a rare illness that left me with severe heart damage. Bedridden for about a year, I began writing, as it was one of the few things I could do. I spent the next decade writing books and taking care of my kids while my wife worked, waiting for that letter to come in the mail which never came. (Should have written about sparkly vampires instead) When my son Stephen passed away in July of 2012, I decided that I was going to dedicate my first book to him, and I wasn’t going to wait for anyone’s permission to be published anymore. I was going to do it myself.

  Dedicated to Stephen

  8/7/2003-7/3/2012

 

 

 


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