Eternal

By Mario Soldevilla

In a race to save humanity, a group of incarnated souls must awaken and find their true purpose in life before time runs out. Eternal is a fast-paced thriller that explores large themes of life such as destiny, fate, soul purpose, evil, the inter-connectedness of souls, and eternal love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Aug 19, 2014
• ISBN: 9781452518060

Mario Soldevilla

Mario Soldevilla has always been interested in his spiritual makeup and growth. He has read many spiritual books, including books on shamanism and Native American teachings. Based on his readings, he developed a philosophy expressed in his writings of; love, compassion, acceptance understanding, and forgiveness. He studied mathematics at the University of Miami where he obtained a bachelor degree in education. He worked in both the private and public sector, and he retired in 2009 after twenty years of service to the city of Miami, where he was a director. Mario resides in Miami, Florida, with his wife, Theresa Girten, and they are surrounded by their children and seven grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2014 Mario Soldevilla.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4525-1804-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-1805-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-1806-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014912303

Balboa Press rev. date: 8/19/2014

CONTENTS

Acknowledgement

Coming Home

Part I

Dusk

Chapter 1 North Carolina—2012

Chapter 2 North Carolina—2012

Chapter 3 North Carolina—2012

Chapter 4 Birth To Six Years Old

Chapter 5 Seven Years To Fourteen Years Old

Chapter 6 Fifteen Years Old To Twenty-Two Years Old

Chapter 7 Twenty-Three Years To Thirty- Five Years Old

Chapter 8 Thirty-Six Years To Forty-Nine Years Old

Chapter 9 Fifty Years Old To The Present

Chapter 10 Present Time

Chapter 11 Fairlawn Cemetery

Part II

Operation Sundance

Chapter 1 Afterlife

Chapter 2 Lusaka, Zambia—2016

Chapter 3 New Haven, Connecticut—2016

Chapter 4 Lusaka, Zambia—2031

Chapter 5 London, England—2033

Chapter 6 Zambia—2038

Chapter 7 Cairo, Egypt—2038

Chapter 8 Zambia—2038

Chapter 9 Zambia—2038

Chapter 10 New Haven—Connecticut, 2043

Chapter 11 Ottawa, Canada—2043

Chapter 12 Zambia—2043

Chapter 13 Maputo, Mozambique—2043

Chapter 14 Zambia—2043

Chapter 15 Rebel Camp—December 1, 2043

Chapter 16 Rebel Camp—December 2, 2043

Chapter 17 Zambia—December 3, 2043

Chapter 18 Zambia—December 8, 2043

Chapter 19 Zambia—December 9, 2043

Chapter 20 Zambia—December 10, 2043

Chapter 21 December 16, 2043—6:00 Pm Est

Chapter 22 December 18, 2043—12:00 Am Lusaka Time

Prologue

About The Author

Also By Mario Soldevilla

The Soul Protector

The Condo

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

The subject of this book came to me suddenly while I was driving one day. The topic was so intriguing that I began writing as soon as I got home. As I wrote I thought of all the people I had met on my life path, and gave thanks to those who as teachers and guides had compelled me to delve deeper into myself.

I would like to acknowledge the contributions of my sister, Marilu, and my wife Theresa. Their patience and encouragement helped me to complete this manuscript. I acknowledge my mother, who would sit with me as a child so that we could discuss the wonders of the universe. Her guiding hand shaped my life. She not only raised four children and a nephew, she also raised eleven grandchildren and fourteen great-grandchildren, with more to come. She spent the last ten years of her life caring and tending for my ailing father with love, tenderness, and compassion. She has impacted all our lives, and the lives of everyone she has met. She has been a living embodiment of unconditional Love and everyone she has touched has been enveloped by it.

I am dedicating this story to her, Maria L. Soldevilla.

Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood.

Helen Keller

COMING HOME

At night I stare into a cloudless sky

A billion points of light whisk by

In awe, I wonder. Can there be more to life?

A strange yearning grasps my soul

Pulling me to worlds beyond

Then, in a flash I see

There is much more to you and me

And the divine source from which we come

Its song in spirit calls us home

Unaware, this song we follow

To reunite and lose all sorrow

In joy we leap when we reach the day

That our Light Bodies are free to say

There is no longer a need to roam

I heard your song; I’m coming home!

Mario Soldevilla

PART I

DUSK

CHAPTER 1

NORTH CAROLINA—2012

From the beginning, Cato and Amanda had a true partnership. They met in college when Amanda was studying art history and Cato was an English major with an emphasis in journalism. They dated throughout their first three years, and then in their senior year they decided to marry. After graduating, Amanda settled into teaching art history at the local junior college, and Cato obtained a job at The Globe, a local newspaper in Miami. He built a reputation as a hard-hitting investigative reporter, and after ten years on the job he ventured into authoring a book. His first book, Musings of An Investigative Reporter, was an instant success, and the books that followed met with wide acclaim. A prolific writer, he cranked out one book every year for the next twenty years. They raised two beautiful children, and became grandparents to four grandchildren.

Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, Amanda died after an accidental fall during a hike. Afterward, Cato retreated into himself and stopped writing, moving to their North Carolina cabin in the mountains near Boone and the Eastern Tennessee border. Except for visits from his children and grandchildren, he was left to himself until his publisher, Eric, began badgering him to write one last book. Eric’s almost daily calls started to wear him down. One day when Eric phoned, Cato finally said, Look Eric, I know you want me to write a book but right now I’m fresh out of ideas.

Cato, you know how to do this. You’ve done it a hundred times before, and I might add, you have been very successful at it, Eric replied.

I know, or so you’ve been telling me almost every day now, for—how long have you been doing this—five years?

Yes, and I will continue to do it for the rest of eternity until you listen to me. So, if you don’t want me to call you tomorrow, just say yes right now and get to work,

Okay, okay, give me a week. Without interruptions! Then I’ll let you know where I stand.

Excellent! You have one week, not a minute more, or we’ll start the dance all over again. You know that I’m tireless when it comes to you.

Yes I know. One week. Goodbye Eric.

Cato hung up the phone and laughed, shaking his head. Eric was a great publisher and friend. He had stood by him through the difficult time after Amanda’s death, and he was a source of good humor. Eric always had funny stories to relate about his neophyte authors, and even better ones about established authors and their idiosyncrasies. Now he had promised Eric he would have something for him in a week, and he always kept his word. He got up and went to the kitchen, made himself a cup of coffee, and took it to his study. His desk was arranged in front of an oversized picture window overlooking the mountains with a view of the forest to the north. He found inspiration looking at nature. The winter weather had turned cold in the mountains, and now in the middle of November it was noticeably colder than the previous month. He turned to his right and approached the large fireplace covering half of the north wall of the room. He started a fire and settled in, with his coffee next to his laptop. He raised the lid of the laptop, and when it came to life the familiar picture of Amanda, the kids with their spouses, and the grandkids greeted him. This always brought an involuntary smile to his face and today was no different. He called up the word processing program and opened up a new document. He stared at the blinking cursor, then looked out the window. He knew how the process worked. All he had to do was type a single word and the rest would follow on its own volition. He took a deep breath and caressed the keys, then typed the word Dusk.

CHAPTER 2

NORTH CAROLINA—2012

Cato looked out the window, and noticed that the soft light cast by the setting sun had been replaced by a blue-green pulsating light that seemed to envelop the cabin. Inquisitive by nature, he went to explore the source of the light. Stepping onto the porch surrounding the cabin, he took three steps down, then headed north into the forest. The light did not diminish, on the contrary, it intensified in color as if beckoning him. Making his way through the trees, when he got closer to the source a figure appeared. Startled, he stopped and stared, then slowly ventured forward. As he did the backlit figure gradually began to take shape and he started discerning details. The figure appeared to be about his height and weight. He stepped closer. Not only did the figure resemble him, it looked exactly like him. Beyond, a second figure appeared, and he recognized the swaying hips and soft curves of Amanda. In bewilderment he said to himself, ‘This can’t be. I’m hallucinating!’ The figure raised his arm and extended his palm upward in the universal symbol for Halt. Cato stopped in his tracks and asked, Who are you? What are you?

The stranger smiled and said, We’ve come to help you review your life. You are who you are because of some important choices you’ve made that steered your destiny to where you are now.

Why are you doing this? What is the purpose? I can’t change what I did, can I?

If there was one thing in your life that you could change, what would it be and why? the figure asked.

Cato knew exactly what it would be and why, but he was afraid to articulate it because of the pain he would feel. The memories that would bubble to the surface would only tear away the scab that had formed in his heart and leave it raw and exposed again. He could not go back and relive the anguish and agony that he had felt. His eyes watered, and looking at the figure he said, What would that accomplish? You cannot change the past.

Let’s just say that right now you are living in multiple spaces, dimensions if you wish. Each space is a result of the varied choices you have made throughout your life. Some are simple mundane, unconscious acts, others are more complex, conscious acts, which all carry significant consequences. Think of it mathematically as a series of if-and-then questions. If you choose yes then something happens. If you choose no then something different happens, and every decision brings a new set of choices to make.

What’s the point if you can’t change anything? Cato asked.

Ah, but you can, the figure replied. Throughout your life, you are given many opportunities to correct your course. One of the if-and-then questions will loop back to the moment when you chose a path, and will present you with the opportunity to make a different choice. You can make a different choice, or not. If not, the alternate choice will loop back again, and will continue looping back in this lifetime or another.

What is the purpose of all this? Cato inquired.

To grow spiritually, back to when you were perfect, the figure answered.

Back? Cato asked.

Yes, back! Back to where we all come from, the figure replied.

Where is that? said Cato.

From the divine source. When you decide to work at it, you will remember. You will remember the reason you chose to reincarnate at this particular point in time. When you do, then you will be able to complete your mission and fulfill the destiny that you charted for yourself. You have already come a long way, the figure explained.

How do you know all this? Why have you come to me now and not before? Cato questioned.

I have come to you, many times before, the figure said. In your dreams, as a gentle tug in one direction, as your inner knowing, as a whisper in your ear, and as a teacher with the message I had to convey.

I don’t remember. Did I listen? Cato asked.

Sometimes. Other times I had to keep coming back. You can be pretty stubborn, and accepting your mistakes is a big challenge for you, the figure answered.

How do you know me so well? asked Cato.

Because, I am you, the figure replied.

CHAPTER 3

NORTH CAROLINA—2012

Cato looked in amazement at the stranger, who did not feel like a stranger any more. What the stranger said next took him by surprise and filled him with fear.

I want you to go back and tell me the story of you. Go back as far as you can remember, as far back as the time when you were in your mother’s womb.

How in the world do you expect me to do that? Lately, I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast.

You didn’t have breakfast. You seldom do, the stranger said, giving him a warm smile.

True, Cato said, returning the identical smile.

We will assist you in remembering. This is significant for all of us, Amanda said, speaking for the first time.

The sound of her voice brought tears to Cato’s eyes. He had missed her so much, and here she was now. He wanted to rush to her and hold her in his arms again. He wanted to smell her hair and her skin to bring the memories he carried in his heart back to life. He took a step forward, but the stranger put up his hand again and shook his head.

Not yet, Cato, not yet. First you have to remember.

All right. How do we do this? It’s going to get colder very soon. As soon as Cato’s words had left his mouth the pulsating light enfolded them, and the temperature became very comfortable, as warm as if he was in his mother’s womb.

How did you do that? Cato said, sitting on a fallen tree trunk and involuntarily closing his eyes.

The stranger gave him a knowing look and said, Now you’ll be able to remember from the start. Relax and let the words flow easily from your heart. Start by telling us what your feelings were.

I felt warm and secure, much like I feel right now, Cato recalled, I remember being able to see lights, and colors. No, not see, but sense. At times, I would stretch my arm, touch my mother’s belly, and feel vibrations. I felt her love for me, and sometimes that feeling intensified. I sensed it was the love of my father, projecting through my mother, and then to me. I remember I wanted very much to be part of this group of souls

That is a great beginning, Cato. Now you must go deeper and start remembering specifics as well as feelings.

I remember hearing voices telling me something, not my mother’s or my father’s, although I heard their voices too, and it made me feel good. The memory made him smile.

What did the voices say to you? the stranger asked.

Let me think, it’s fuzzy in my memory, Cato said furrowing his brow.

Don’t force it. Allow it to come to you, the stranger said.

Sometimes they were soft soothing voices like a whisper, but they filled my being with love. I somehow associate those voices with the color green, the palest yet most vivid green I have ever experienced. Other times the voices were more forceful, and they gave me information, like a teacher teaching a lesson. They kept saying, remember this, and then they would repeat it, Cato replied.

What color do you associate that with? Amanda asked.

Violet, no purple. They were so brilliant—the colors!

You are doing fine, Cato, continue, the stranger said.

I remember… Cato whispered, then started sobbing uncontrollably, not because of sorrow but because of joy.

When he regained his composure, in a soothing and knowing voice the stranger said, What did you remember Cato?

I was surrounded by this brilliant white light. A sense of peace, infinite love and knowing enveloped me. I felt I was part of the universe, of everything. My existence was reduced to a single atom that suddenly burst forth in a billion stars. I was…I am…the water, the sky, the grass, the sun, my mother, my father, my son, my daughter, my wife. I Am the Divine! Cato said.

That’s quite a revelation, but this is only the beginning. said the stranger. You have glimpsed the divine source, and connected at the soul level. We haven’t gotten to the hard stuff yet, and we must.

I don’t understand exactly why we are doing this, Cato said.

I know you don’t, not yet, so we must continue. You just had one major enlightening experience in this review. Now you understand where you came from, but there’s plenty of work to be done. A lifetime to be exact, the stranger said.

Do you think you are ready? Amanda said in a voice filled with love, understanding and compassion.

I’m ready, Cato said. And so it began.

CHAPTER 4

BIRTH TO SIX YEARS OLD

I remember my mother had a very hard labor. She told me it lasted more than fourteen hours. She said it was as if I didn’t want to be born, Cato recalled.

Did you…want to be born? the stranger asked.

Yes, I did, but in the last few months before I was ready to come out I sensed fear and apprehension on the part of my mother, which I guess is what held me back, Cato replied.

Do you know what caused that fear? asked the stranger.

"Not at the time, but the story my mom would later tell was that I was conceived during World War II. My father was an American soldier stationed in Italy, and my mother was Italian. She worked at my grandparent’s bakery, which the soldiers visited daily. Somehow she caught my father’s eye, and soon they were seeing each other. She taught my father Italian, and he taught my mother English. My mother got pregnant with me, and before they shipped my father to France they got married. As it turned out the end of the war was near, and my mother was afraid for my father, and she thought she would never see him