The Last Train

By Richard Alan

In this short and witty novella, Jake traverses a treacherous path between heaven and hell to reunite with his beloved Bernadette. A vacation celebrating their Silver Anniversary goes very wrong, and so the bizarre journey begins. Jake’s premature death is the catalyst for this comical, suspenseful, and thrilling page-turner. Love is the fuel that empowers his resolute stubbornness. “The Last Train” is a romantic comedy with a symphony of twists that defy an accurate genre classification. You will face the most unusual life-after-death situations throughout. Angels and demons fight, and crazy people roam the pages. Humor and horror face our sarcastic hero, labeled “heaven’s most wanted.” It has been described as, “Laugh out loud funny” and, “Bloody brilliant!” Like many small packages, it contains an amazing and memorable gift from Richard Alan to you. In this short and witty novella, Jake traverses a treacherous path between heaven and hell to reunite with his beloved Bernadette. A vacation celebrating their Silver Anniversary goes very wrong, and so the bizarre journey begins. Jake’s premature death is the catalyst for this comical, suspenseful, and thrilling page-turner. Love is the fuel that empowers his resolute stubbornness. “The Last Train” is a romantic comedy with a symphony of twists that defy an accurate genre classification. You will face the most unusual life-after-death situations throughout. Angels and demons fight, and crazy people roam the pages. Humor and horror face our sarcastic hero, labeled “heaven’s most wanted.” It has been described as, “Laugh out loud funny” and, “Bloody brilliant!” Like many small packages, it contains an amazing and memorable gift from Richard Alan to you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781631923944

Book preview

END

CHAPTER 1: PACIFIC COAST STARLIGHT

All Jake Avia could see was thick darkness. All he could feel was the sensation of flying with a strong wind in his face. He puzzled over it. It fit nothing in his paradigm except a possible dream, for no better explanation.

Jake dreamt of women, and always in some real environment. As he flew, there was no backdrop, and no women. He dismissed that hope, not a dream.

He was Catholic, but had not attended mass and had not confessed in a very long time. This could be some sort of afterlife experience. He panicked.

Holy shit… Sorry Lord… Holy Father, have you cast me from your presence? Is this the way to purgatory?

In utter dread, he tried to speak from a contrite heart as he confessed to voyeurism, I never hurt anyone and I was always faithful to Bernadette! I’m sorry Lord. I know I have no excuse.

He padded the books back in New York to pay the mob, I was forced to do it! You know that. He went on to acknowledge that he spoke impure words and drank a little too much.

His mind suddenly flashed to picking out the perfect wine to celebrate Bernadette and his twenty-fifth anniversary. He did it in secret. They loved Domenico Glerico Garolo Percristina Nebbiolo from Piedmont, Italy. They discovered it on a previous anniversary vacation to northern Italy. They were particularly touched that the winemaker continued working his magic in honor of his daughter’s tragic death.

The look on Bernadette’s face was worth the steep price paid for the mature taste. It was unequaled by any other wine, new or old. The waiter brought it to him wrapped in a linen cloth. It was already open and had time to breath. She was dazzled as he poured it into their stemmed glasses. Jake handed the first glass to his wife.

Here’s to our Silver Anniversary, Jake said holding his cup towards her.

They sniffed it with a gentle swirling of their cups, shared new vows, and sealed them with a passionate kiss. The wine nearly spilled. Then they sipped it slow and elegantly. It was a moment of wealth, a mask they often wore during romantic escapes.

A pinpoint of light appeared in the distance and grew larger as Jake flew towards it. He was relieved to see it, and afraid of its implications. The light was only congruent with expectations if he had died. As the light lit upon him, he looked frantically for Bernadette. She was not with him.

Another memory came to mind. It was after their drink. She handed a sealed note to him.

What is this, Peaches? He asked her with his distinct Italian accent.

I don’t know, my sweet pumpkin. The attendant delivered it just a moment ago. Open it. I expect it has something to do with our anniversary, Bernadette answered, also with an Italian accent and sparkling with anticipation.

He picked up a silver knife from their table. Unfolded linen was beside it, and a partially eaten balsamic spinach salad. It slipped into the envelope and swiftly exposed its crumpled contents.

He pulled out the note and commented, It can’t be anything too important, not in this condition.

What does it say? She asked with a cheery heart. He felt an overshadowing sense of gloom.

He read it to himself, JAKO, you should have gotten off at the last stop. We moved up the end of the line just for you. It’s DEAD ahead.

He dropped it to the floor as his inner fear surfaced on his face.

What is it Jake? What’s wrong? She asked with sudden concern. She knew him too well. A blind man could see something was not right, and her voice alerted the other passengers in the dining car. He made eye contact with those in front of him. A tear dripped down his face.

Most everyone noticed their gestures born of a deep love. Jake’s expression did not fit. He looked torn, and he truly was. His past had caught up with him and he knew whoever wrote that sloppy note was not joking. They were hurtling towards trouble. He fell into Bernadette’s embrace.

I’m sorry, he whispered. I love you always, my sweet peach.

There was no time for her answer. A sleeping car violently exploded and the dining car jumped the tracks as Amtrak’s Coast Starlight train crossed the Nisqually River.

Jake fell and kept falling into the darkness, where the light grew until he entered a surreal place. He took in his bird’s eye view. The sparkling pastel landscape cast no shadows and the sky shimmered above.

A brilliant light drifted peacefully towards him. He could feel it as joy permeating his being. He floated inside what he could only describe as an aura. He made a gentle landing on the strange surface. It looked like glass with trees, shrubs, and many spots of colorful fairytale lights that spread as far as the eye could see.

When he stepped out of the aura that guided him down, he discovered he had no feet. A quick look at his hands and body revealed its absence. He, too, was an aura, but all his physical senses were somehow intact.

Is this heaven? He asked the other aura, surprised that his voice was still his own. It oddly resonated from his own aura, not too loud or too soft, but in a calm, reverent tone.

There was no reply, but he heard a complex whale song coming from several auras around him. It was a soothing place, but he felt a part of himself fighting the peace and joy that emanated from all around. It came from the other auras. It was strongest in the one floating before him.

His feelings emerged, frustrated about being ignored if these things could actually speak.

Where am I? What are you? He said more urgently, but it came out just like his previous words. Oh, that’s cute. I can’t raise my voice to get some answers around here?

You’re perfectly welcome to try, but we’ve found a little control is more pleasant, the aura finally answered.

So you can speak. Can you answer my questions?

Certainly, Jake. Calm yourself and I will teach you, it said calmly. I still feel your attitude and it’s a teensy bit grating. I don’t have to answer your questions, but I choose to. Please, don’t make me change my mind.

Please, kind… Whatever you are, Jake answered and applied his people skills to focus outward and not inward where his troubles resided.

Very good. I’m impressed. Some people arrive spellbound and so wonderfully happy. Then there are those like you who have trouble taming their attitudes. You are quite the gentleman when you give it a go, he complimented with a soft slug to Jake’s shoulder.

What was that?

It was an expression I picked up when on a mission down where you came from.

But how? I don’t have a shoulder, and you don’t have a fist, he posed.

That’s what you believe, but in time you will learn what you are capable of. Some take longer than others do. You just arrived, so be patient. This is a wondrous place.

Could you let me know where this place is, and what we are, Jake said from a calmed heart.

Yes, I would love to tell you. It’s such good news. This is heaven… You guessed that. You’re a human on this side of the veil, and I’m an alien, he answered with a pink sparkle.

It felt like a smile, of maybe a tittle of humor to Jake. An alien?

Oh yes, not everyone’s as constrained as you, he replied with the same pink sparkle.

Does pink mean anything to you? Jake posed as he sought insight into this new world.

Oh dear me, pink is fun. Red is love. Green is calm. Yellow is smart, or in some cases it mixes with silver, marking a warrior. You exhibit yellow, so I know you are a clever fellow. I cannot fool you, now can I? I am an alien, but you know me as an angel. A blue spark arched between them.

And what was that, Mr. Angel?

I winked. Thank you for asking.

Why blue? It seems to me that every color means something, like the language of the heart. Am I right?

"Home run, Jake. Blue is