The Year of My Death

By Kenny Felderstein

Mark Brown, a business executive, had a vivid dream he would live until the year 2038. Months later a horrific plane crash occurs. Just before the crash, Mark grabs the arm of the passenger next to him, Howard Bowman, and tells him to hold on because he is going to live until the year 2038. At the hospital, Mark and Howard are told they are the only ones to survive.

Lauren Rifkin, a tabloid investigator, finds out about Mark's dream and what he said to Howard before the crash. She and her Chief Editor, Weaver, convince Mark they can make him a major personality if they promote his dream as a premonition.

The plan works, but the price of fame and fortune turns out to be higher than Mark anticipated. There are some who will benefit if they can cause him to have another near-death experience and others who want to challenge his so-called premonition by killing him before the year 2038.

The Year of My Death is a thriller, but what lies beneath is the opportunity for hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 27, 2003
• ISBN: 9781462078202

Kenny Felderstein

Kenny Felderstein has over 25 years of executive experience in the computer and data communications business. He led the launch of the first laser printer and the first desktop publishing software. Mr. Felderstein is the author of the successful book Never Buy a Hat if Your Feet Are Cold. He lectures to students and business people on taking charge of their career and their life. A graduate of Saint Joseph?s University in Pennsylvania, Mr. Felderstein currently lives in Marina Del Rey, California.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

FEBRUARY 1990

Mark Brown, in his charcoal sweats, was walking on a bluish green manicured lawn behind a Beverly Hills mansion. It’s quiet—almost too quiet. He couldn’t hear the trees whistling from the wind or songs coming from the birds. Had he gone deaf or had the world stopped?

In the center of the lawn was a large gazebo with a flag sticking up from the middle of the roof. The flag looked like the one Neil Armstrong planted on the moon except there were no words on it, just the numbers 2038.

Mark walked toward the gazebo as though a force was drawing him there, but it kept getting further and further away. Suddenly the gazebo became a bright ball of light.

Then, as if by magic, a figure emerged from the light. The figure was smaller than Mark and seemed to be a female. The figure was wrapped in a large gray shawl that encased her entire body including her face. By raising her arms in the shawl the figure looked like it had sprouted wings. The figure then lifted slightly off the ground and came at Mark moving at a very high speed.

In a panic Mark turned to run but his body seemed to be glued to the lawn. The figure overtook and then engulfed him in its gray sheet as it gently lowered him to the ground.

Mark tried to fight the figure off, but his limbs and body were frozen to the well-groomed grass.

Fearing the figure was death, Mark tried to plead for his life, but no words came out of his mouth. Through the corner of his left eye, he saw a large pot appear with molten metal bubbling and steaming from the top. A metal rod that looked like a branding iron was lying in the pot.

Mark’s fear for his life was now becoming even more intense as he now believed his attacker was going to torture him before the kill.

The gray figure leaned its face closer to his face. Mark could see clearly into his attacker’s eyes. Instead of a rush of fear coming over him, he felt a strange calmness. The figure’s eyes were warm, sweet and caring—not threatening, as he anticipated.

The calmness passed quickly as he watched the figure reach into the boiling pot and take out the branding iron. Mark tried with all his might to move, but could not. He stared at what was written on the white-hot iron—2038.

Mark watched as the gray figure took the branding iron and pressed it to his forehead and said in a loving voice, I will see you in 2038.

Instead of the hot pain he anticipated, Mark felt a cool and pleasant tingling sensation as the iron made its indenture into his forehead.

Seconds after being branded, the gray figure got off of Mark, flew into the white light that replaced the gazebo and disappeared.

When she was gone, Mark saw light through his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes with a start and found himself in his seat, 32C, looking at the reading and cabin lights above.

He then heard the captain saying, Ladies and gentleman Flight 67 will be landing, on time, in Los Angeles, in about 15 minutes. Thank you for flying United. We hope you had a pleasant flight.

Mark, with his heart racing, looked over at his beautiful wife Samantha, who was still sleeping. He immediately put his hand on his forehead, but felt nothing. He got out of his seat and moved quickly to the rear of the plane toward the toilet. Once in, he closed the door and threw the latch. When the light came on he looked into the mirror—there was nothing on his forehead.

Trying to catch his breath, Mark began to think about the dream that seemed nothing like any other dream he ever had before. This dream seemed more real and he could remember every detail of the experience.

Was it just a dream or was it a sign? What did 2038 mean? Was it an address? Was it a locker number? Was it a time or a year? Mark began to calculate in his head how old he would be in 2038—89 years old.

At that moment a joy came over him. A vision of his death in the year 2038 wasn’t threatening or scary, it was assuring that he was going to live another 48 more years.

Mark went back to his seat. Sam, who was a white-knuckle flier, was now awake and starting to get nervous about the plane landing.

Where were you? she said to Mark. You know I hate flying, and especially landing.

Mark, smiling, leaned closer to her, took her hand and said, Sweetie, you just hold on to me and nothing bad will happen—I’m going to live until the year 2038.

Sam had a startled look on her face. Mark couldn’t resist and told her about his dream—or was it a premonition?

They both laughed a laugh that was half-amusing and half-serious.

CHAPTER 2

LOS ANGELES, FRIDAY OCTOBER 2ND

Roland Kuggle was a short, thin, handsome looking man with a tragic upbringing. His mother left the family when he was young because of his abusive father. A few years later she was killed. Roland’s father was the prime suspect, but after months of investigation, the Police were unable to prove anything.

His new stepmother didn’t care about him. She was an alcoholic and only cared about the juice in the bottle.

His father wasn’t much better. Many times they would go on binges for weeks and leave Roland by himself. In addition to the beatings, they would lock him in their tool shed for a day or two if he talked back to them.

Roland made two weak attempts at killing them, but only received a broken arm and finger for his trouble. When he finally was old enough to be on his own he left with his body intact, but his emotions were destroyed beyond repair.

He tried to get love from every woman he met. His neediness pushed these women and all of his friends away. Roland was smart enough to realize what he needed couldn’t be supplied by any adult, therefore, he created a plan he was sure would work.

Martha was the perfect accomplice for his plan. She was homely, lonely and non-confrontational. She had very few friends and never had a sexual relationship. Her parents took care of her until the time she met Roland. He was the first person who made her feel like a normal woman. He put her on a pedestal and treated her with affection up until the day she gave birth to Julia.

Julia was beautiful from the day she was born. She had a perfect symmetrical face, curly blond hair and a smile that could calm an angry mob. She was the image of her father. As she became older her beauty didn’t change, but her disposition became that of the man she resembled.

Roland’s plan was to have a child he could mold into the person who would fill all the voids in his life. He was extremely protective of his daughter. She was the only child he was going to have and he was committed to making sure she was perfect.

He wouldn’t let anyone but himself take her to and from school. He would leave work just to make sure she was picked up. Julia wasn’t allowed to play any sport or go on any field trip that might have the slightest chance of causing her harm. Roland was a computer wiz and with the aid of the Internet, was able to investigate the parents of all her friends.

Once Julia was born, Roland didn’t care about Martha. His entire focus was on his daughter. He spoiled her in every way. If Martha tried to object or suggest anything regarding Julia’s upbringing, Roland abused her in the same way his father abused him and his mother.

He required Julia to obey and love him—it didn’t work. Roland could force her to obey, but love comes from trust, respect and friendship. Roland was never loved so he didn’t know how to create love in others.

On this warm partly cloudy day, Roland was helping his 10-year-old daughter get ready for their quarterly trip to Oakland to visit her grandmother. Every time they made this trip, Roland tried to convince Julia that Martha should stay home. However, Julia insisted her mother go along because she was afraid of flying, she knew she could control her mother and something inside her never trusted her father.

Three hours before today’s flight, the phone rang. Roland picked it up. Hello.

Roland? the nervous voice at the other end said.

Yes, Roland responded.

It’s Lincoln. You have to get down here as fast as you can.

No way, Lincoln. I’m on my way to Oakland with my family.

Roland, the sprinklers in the main computer room went off. We have it under control, but can’t get the software systems back up and running. It is chaos here and you’re the only technical person who knows enough about this system to fix it.

Shit, Lincoln, can’t this wait until Monday?

Lincoln was now irate. Wait? Are you nuts? We’re running a business here. You’re the one who convinced the dummies at the top to install this system. I warned you that if you didn’t train your staff, the weight of the problems would fall on your head. That day has come and as your boss, I’m demanding you come down here now!

Alright, alright, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Roland relented.

Roland was brilliant, but he had lost three jobs in two states for being difficult to manage. Pierce Financial tolerated him for the last year because he knew more than the rest of the technical staff and senior management knew nothing. He was the only one who understood the new software system from top to bottom and that was the way he wanted it to be. He was delaying the training of his people, as long as he could, so Pierce Financial couldn’t fire him.

Roland hung up the phone, walked over to Julia, put a hand on each of her shoulders and said, Sorry, my diamond in the rough, I have to go to work. We can go to Oakland next week.

Oh no daddy, Julie whimpered. I have my new pink dress on and I packed everything neatly just like you wanted me to. Please, please, please daddy—let me and mom go.

Before Roland could answer, Martha sheepishly interrupted, Roland what is the harm in the two of us going just this one time.

Roland turned his head from Julia to Martha. As he turned, his warm caring eyes changed to a cold deadly stare. "You have no say in this matter. Shut up and go into the kitchen."

Martha lowered her head and left the room.

Roland’s smile returned as he turned back to his perfect child. Julia, you know daddy loves you and wants to protect you. We can go another time.

Julia switched from pleasantly pleading to anger in the same way Roland switched from warm to cold. You don’t love me. You don’t make me happy. If you don’t let me go I will never be nice to you. I will tell everyone what a bad daddy you are.

Julia’s last remark hit Roland below the belt. She had learned how to manipulate.