Those Left Behind

By Robert Mayer

Is our life ruled by chance, and what about our afterlife? After a fall separates his body and spirit, Adam Glass finds himself drifting in a realm between life and death.

While in a coma with little chance of survival, Adam is given the chance to live another life in another world. But there is only one problem: he doesn’t know who he is. Is he the lifeless body in the hospital or is he whatever form he finds himself in now? After Adam chooses to live another life so he can return to his soulmate, Mary, he must face several unexpected obstacles. As he receives guidance from his deceased friends, Adam can only hope their help will be enough to overcome the obstacles, and that his love for Mary will be enough to make him endure a different existence than he ever imagined.

Those Left Behind is the story of one man’s unexpected journey to a realm between life and death where he must make an agonizing choice whether to live another life or accept his current destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Mar 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798765239292

Robert Mayer

Robert Mayer has written for Vanity Fair, The New York Times, The Washington Post, Newsweek, GQ, and more. His first novel, Superfolks, changed superhero fiction forever. Best-selling author John Grisham called his The Dreams of Ada "a fascinating book, a wonderful reminder of how good true-crime writing can be." Mayer lives in New Mexico with his tapestry-weaving wife, La Donna, and their people-loving pit bull.

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Copyright © 2023 Robert Mayer.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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

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Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic Reference Bible, Copyright © 1983 by The Zondervan Corporation.

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3928-5 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3930-8 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-7652-3929-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023902634

Balboa Press rev. date: 03/08/2023

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to some dear friends of mine, Vishal and Jason. It was a long journey for me to forgive the two of you and an even longer one to forgive myself. I apologize for taking so long to put myself out there. I’m sorry that you never knew that I shared your pain. I often think of the pain and loss to others that I may have been able to alleviate or even eliminate if I weren’t such a private person. I now know that it is never too late. I hope the wait has been worthwhile and that the three of us can help at least one other person through this book. I know you both are waiting for me on the other side, and I plan on making you wait a lot longer. Until then . . .

Choice implies consciousness - a high degree of consciousness. Without it, you have no choice. Choice begins the moment you disidentify from the mind and its conditioned patterns, the moment you become present . . . . Nobody chooses dysfunction, conflict, pain. Nobody chooses insanity. They happen because there is not enough presence in you to dissolve the past, not enough light to dispel the darkness. You are not fully here. You have not quite woken up yet. In the meantime, the conditioned mind is running your life.

Eckhart Tolle

PREFACE

As I grow more distant from my past, I can see more clearly the value it has for the present and future.

I wasn’t one to talk about things, let alone ask for help. For most of my childhood and into early adulthood, I was OK with being alone and even preferred it. I would sit up in my room, writing, reading, or drawing. I would do nothing and just think, just wonder about things. Mostly, I just kept things to myself, but I was happy.

A major change in my life changed that. I became suicidal and suffered from severe depression. Still, I kept things to myself. Very few people knew, and I don’t think anyone could have helped.

I didn’t commit suicide, obviously, and I was no longer suicidal, but I was depressed. Severely. Still, I kept things to myself. Years went by, I kept moving forward and doing things, really, just hanging on and hoping something would change within me. Then, I got the news that one of my best friends had committed suicide.

What if I had not kept things to myself? This is the main question that has haunted me since then. Sure, there’s many more questions, but this one, this one is always there. I didn’t and still don’t know why he did it, but it made me determined to take the next step. Still, I kept things to myself though.

My friend Vishal and I went to his funeral, we talked at lengths about different things. We both tried to make sense of it. I don’t remember if I told Vishal about how I was suicidal at one point as well. After that, I talked about suicide with other people but mainly just about how I dealt with a friend doing it. My own personal experience with being suicidal, I kept to myself.

I kept pushing myself to change though. I kept trying to make more and more decisions to make myself happier and happier. The depression still persisted and as it waned; anxiety increased. I made some tough decisions about life; I was successful but still not happy. I started dating a girl seriously for the first time, basically ever. I bought a house on some land and started raising chickens and ducks and geese and even got a dog and some goats. I was making plans to start a new company in something I was passionate about. That’s when I got the news that Vishal had committed suicide.

I just had appetizers and drinks with him, his girlfriend and my girlfriend a few weeks earlier. It was surreal to me. How did this happen again? He had seemed dissatisfied but not depressed or even unhappy. Once again, the question of what if I had not kept things to myself crept into my mind.

Life is full of questions and doubts, what ifs and what if nots. We don’t usually get it right immediately, eventually, or even ever but what does that even mean to get it right? Maybe, getting it right is just a matter of trying, persisting, hanging on or letting go. Chances are, it’s different for everyone and it’s different for them at different points. Just because we got something wrong doesn’t mean it’s the end. We just have to try to get some things right after that until we have the opportunity to make that mistake again . . . or to not.

INTRODUCTION

Driving down a dark highway through a heavy rain, the connection between my body and soul became loosened as my soul drifted away like a kite being slowly pulled by the wind. This wasn’t a moment of clarity, I was suicidal, and it was as if all of my thoughts, logic, reasoning, and concerns had been spooling up and were now being let out. I could feel the different sections that made up the line, the reasons I had for committing suicide, the reasons for not and the knots that tied them together while separating them. Suddenly, they unraveled. The knots went away, the spool ran out of line and with them, suicide. It went away, but it wasn’t replaced by hope or a desire to live or anything else. It was just . . . gone.

So, a journey began, out of nothingness but not without anything.

To me, it seemed as if I had to start my life over. Everything I thought I was, that I thought I was about, seemed to separate from me and leave me. It became a vivid portrait of who I was, shadowing me wherever I went, reminding me of how clear life once seemed and mocking me as I struggled to see clearly, the blur that I had become.

This book is a hypothetical journey. A journey of pain and suffering. A journey of redemption and realization. What if we could live another life to get back to where we were or where we are? To have another chance to appreciate our life and the people that make it meaningful.

How far would you go? How long would you endure?

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 The Fall

Chapter 2 The Day After

Chapter 3 Accepting Reality

Chapter 4 The Red Coat

Chapter 5 Decision Time

Chapter 6 Christmas Flashback

Chapter 7 Circling Around

Chapter 8 Starting Over

Chapter 9 The Bench

Chapter 10 Cracks

Chapter 11 Moving On

Chapter 12 Chasing the Monsters

Chapter 13 Those Left Behind

Chapter 14 Not Anymore

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CHAPTER 1

The Fall

The silence resonated from ear to ear. It was as if a wave of it had hit and was slowly settling in as it swished back and forth, pushing the sensations of sound and pressure around his head and throughout his body. Adam laid there as the ripples of sound flattened. A mirror-like silence took over. That’s odd, Adam thought. His body felt light; his mind felt clear. He slowly opened his eyes as the glaring light from a lamppost appeared and seemed to shoot right through him. Squinting and blinking, he stared it into focus. Multiple-story buildings appeared behind it and to the left and right of it in his peripheral vision. He noticed the twinkling of Christmas lights and a wreath with a red ribbon hanging about three quarters of the way up the lamppost. Ugh, Christmas.

Adam wasn’t particularly fond of the holidays. One Christmas when he was young, he had saved up his allowance for months to buy Christmas gifts for his family. His excitement grew and grew as Christmas Day approached. The anticipation of his family’s excitement, gratefulness, and appreciation simmered as it came time to open presents. His older sister, Rachel, opened hers first, then his younger brother, Jared, and then his younger sister, Cindy. The gifts he got his sisters were nearly identical; however, the second his younger sister opened hers, his older sister demanded they switch. Despite his objections, they did switch, causing him to question every aspect of the Christmas spirit and gift giving. Ever since that Christmas, the Christmas season has been an unpleasant time of year for him.

His head rolled over to the left. He gazed across the street at the brownstones with their odd entrances off the brick sidewalks. Why were the entrances on such unequal levels? Some a step or two down, some a step or two up, some at the level of the sidewalk, some seemingly buried under the sidewalk and others almost midway up the first floors. Surely the altering elevation of the terrain had something to do with it, but why were the doors all sorts of shapes and sizes as well? It appeared that hobbits lived in some while giants lived in others. It became obvious to him that he was somewhere on Beacon Hill, probably somewhere midway up the hill, but why?

He paused for a second as he rotated his head back. Huh, that’s weird, he thought. He didn’t go into Beacon Hill very often ever since he and his wife, Mary, had moved over to the West End off Canal Street. On occasion, he would end up there after a softball game or the random time he had met Mary somewhere for a drink or dinner. Had they just come from dinner? He thought for a second as he sat up. Hmm, and why am I laying down on the sidewalk?

Adam lay still for a moment as he tried to remember how he had ended up there. He recalled that he was out celebrating his sister Cindy’s birthday. A surprise weekend that he had spent months plotting and planning for. Months that were not without issues or risks. It was always risky involving anyone in his family in any sort of venture, personal detail, rumor, plan, or in this case, event. If you wanted to keep a secret in his family, it was best to just keep it to yourself. Sometimes it was unavoidable though. You’d have to roll the dice and hope for the best. Adam wasn’t sure who the least reliable was, his father or his younger sister. Although it might be said that they were the most reliable in that one knew that no secret was safe with them. The others were much less predictable. In this case, he was planning a party for his younger sister, so he had decided not to inform either of his parents until the last minute, just to be safe. Living halfway across the country and dealing with medical issues, he knew they wouldn’t be able to make it anyway.

He knew there’d be some sort of issue he would need to deal with though. One of the problems Adam always had, was that his older sister didn’t always feel the same way about their dad’s ability to keep a secret. Being Daddy’s girl, she seemed to always be seeking his favor, which caused Adam irritation for several reasons. The first being that she didn’t need to seek his favor; she had it and it wasn’t going anywhere. The second being that it led to the two of them jabbering on and on as if they were in a trance where anything could come out. Adam couldn’t even begin to count the number of times in his life where he felt his anxiety skyrocket at the possibility of one of them revealing something to the other that they shouldn’t. He became quite adept at steering conversations in other directions as a result.

Sure enough, that’s exactly what had happened this time. He knew that there wasn’t any malice to it on the part of his father or his older sister—they weren’t trying to wreck the surprise. It was just the typical lack of awareness of what was coming out their mouths once they got into one of their talking grooves. Typically, those who are bad at keeping secrets have an unwavering desire to be the ones who know things before everyone else, or at least someone else. Probably fulfilling some need to feel, well, needed. After all, the bearer of rumors and secrets is always someone people like to go to. That wasn’t his father or his sister though; they just talked and talked and talked some more. It was almost as if they blacked out the moment they started in on their first sentence and something else took control of their vocal cords. Maybe it was Pheme, the Greek goddess of rumor whispering in their ears and having some fun. Regardless, by the end of his father’s last conversation with his youngest sister, Cindy, he had forgotten what he had said. Cindy hadn’t though, and the news that her older sister was flying in for a visit had piqued her curiosity.

Over time, Adam had learned how to redirect and adapt in order to keep secrets from them. Part of that involved having plans B, C, and D for every scenario and knowing who he could tell what and when. In this particular case, he and his older sister were able to convince his younger sister that their dad had mixed up the dates of her visit. But all of that didn’t explain how he ended up alone on his back in Beacon Hill.

He rubbed his head as he looked down the road, searching for someone from the celebration. The streets and sidewalks seemed empty as he noticed that his legs looked a little odd, blurry almost. He wiggled his toes, and they seemed to wiggle, albeit blurrily. It was almost as if he had double vision. Maybe he did. He must have fallen and hit his head on the brick sidewalk. He rubbed his hand again on the back of his head. It felt fine, and there wasn’t any blood on it. He put his hand down and went to push himself up when he noticed a dark puddle where his hand was placed. He lifted his hand up quickly and looked at it.

The sight of blood, specifically his own blood, had been known to make Adam faint. Just months earlier he had donated blood and passed out a few seconds after they had taken the last vial. He stared at his hand for a second, preparing himself, but there was nothing on it. He looked back at the puddle and dipped his hand into it again, nothing. He followed the puddle the short distance back to his head. Startled, he jumped up.

What in the heck is . . . He gasped as he looked down at what looked like his body. He started to pat himself all over, or at least what he thought was himself. His body lay still on the brick sidewalk, a stream of blood coming from the back of his head.

Holy shit. I must be dreaming! He leaned over and tried to move his body, but his hands went right through it. OK, OK, that’s fine. I’ll just wake up. He closed his eyes for a second and then reopened them. He was still there. A feeling of fear started to well up inside of him. Hmm, OK, that didn’t work.

He spun around, looking for some anomaly or something else to help him wake up from the dream he found himself in. All he found was a perfect replica of a street in Beacon Hill. Man, I don’t recognize this street. I must have made it up in my dream. OK, well, just wake up now, Adam. Wake up.

He closed his eyes and focused for what seemed like minutes. He imagined himself lying in his bed, comfortably sleeping. Slowly, he started to wake up. As he gradually opened his eyes, he could see the shine from the lamppost come back into view, so he closed his eyes tight again. He tried to reopen them again, imagining the lamppost away. The feeling of fear started to grow. It started to feel like he was in a nightmare.

It wasn’t unusual for him to have dreams where he either tried to wake himself up or go back into them though. It wasn’t even unusual for him to struggle with waking up at times. So, when he opened his eyes and the lamppost was still there, he wasn’t overly surprised. But still, this felt different.

Dang it! OK, OK, I just need to get back into my body here.

Adam laid back down and positioned himself in line with his body. He looked at his toes, and then his feet, and followed them up to his legs and then his waist to make sure they were in perfect alignment. He did the same thing with his arms. He lay there closing his eyes and imagining his body being reconnected to his dream image of his self.

He tried this for several minutes, in several different ways. Every time he opened his eyes; there the lamppost was.

Yeah. I tried to do the same thing. It doesn’t quite work that way, came a familiar voice from behind him. He jumped up and spun around.

Dipen?

Yep, that’s me. In the flesh. Well not really in the flesh. I’m not sure why I said that. More like in the spirit buuuttttt it’s kind of like flesh. Right? Kind of real?

What are you? What are you doing here in my dream?

What? Me? Your dream? Dipen laughed as he shook his head. EEEdiot! Trust me bro, this isn’t a dream, you’re dead, he said, as he laughed a bit more heavily.

Adam stood there for a second. He looked back down at his body and then back over at Dipen.

Of course, it’s a dream. But why did I bring you into my dream? You must be able to help me wake up!

Dipen stood there with his arms crossed as he shook his head disapprovingly at Adam.

Dude, don’t be stupid. Can’t you see how dead you are?

I’m not dead. Now, how do I wake up? Do I just . . . Adam paused for a second as he thought about what to do. Well? What do I do?

OK, OK, Adam. I can help you wake up, Dipen said in a sarcastic manner. First, you’re gonna need to stand with one leg out to the side. Dipen paused as Adam lifted his left leg up. Higher up though. Nope, nope, wait! It’s the other leg I meant. Yes, that one, now higher! OK, now back to the other one! Quickly or else it won’t work! Now the right! Now the left! Quicker! Now you need to start pumping your arms up and down toward the ground! Keep kicking though! Trust me bro! Quicker! You’re not doing it quick enough! Quicker! You need to do it quicker if you want to wake up!

Adam continued to kick each leg out to the side and pump his arms toward the sidewalk as Dipen encouraged him to go quicker and quicker. It didn’t seem to be working though.

It’s not working! Adam said as he stopped, breathing heavily. Surprisingly though, he noticed that he wasn’t tired and didn’t feel like he needed to be breathing heavily. Shouldn’t he have been tired after all that. Of course not! It’s a dream! Duh! Adam thought.

Oh really? Huh, that’s really weird that dancing around like an asshole doesn’t return you to the realm of the living. Let’s try another one.

What? Are you just messing with me?

Me? What? Nooo, I wouldn’t do that.

That’s it! Begone! Adam exclaimed, as he pointed toward the sky while closing his eyes. Reopening them, he saw that it had worked. Dipen had disappeared.

All right, that worked, Adam thought, with a sense of relief. Now time to wake up. Wake up! Now!

Did it work? Dipen’s voice seemed to be directly in his ear. Adam spun to the left but didn’t see him. You up now? Adam spun to the right, but once again nothing. Try an abracadabra maybe. Adam spun around again and there was Dipen, standing right behind him.

I’ll tell you what, I can make you wake up, but you need to swear a dream allegiance and just trust me bro, OK?

What? Allegiance? You’re in my dream, you swear a dream allegiance to me and you just trust me bro! Now I demand that you tell me how to wake up!

Ok then, if it’s just a dream and its ‘your’ dream, then it’s no big deal for you to swear allegiance to me, is it? You can just undream it. Dipen paused while giving Adam a look as if he was waiting for an answer. NO! And wait, also, you need to admit that I was always smarter than you.

OK, fine, whatever, Dipen. I swear a dream allegiance to you.

Aaaannnddd . . .

And what?

And I am whater than you?

Jeez, OK, you were always smarter than me.

And faster too.

What?

And faster. Just say it: I was always faster than you.

Dude, you never beat me in a race though.

Yeah, what? So what! It’s because I never really cared to. Why would I . . . OK, let’s . . . wait. I never beat you because I wasn’t insecure like you. OK? I didn’t feel the need to win and be fast and stuff.

OK, whatever your excuse is, it still means you weren’t faster.

No, it doesn’t! You and me both know that if I cared; I would have crushed you!

OK, whatever, you were faster, happy? Now just tell me.

What about chess? And ping-pong?

What about them?

I was better, right?

All right, that’s enough Dipen, came another familiar voice from behind him.

Adam turned around and saw a figure emerging from the shadows. Derek?

"Bro! You said you’d give me at least five minutes! He still swore allegiance though, you swore it,