Three hours from the time I closed my eyes giving myself over to death I awakened on the other side.HEAVEN!
It had to be.
Next to me was the Veloci-Raptor (the one-eyed crazy attack rooster) uncharacteristically cooing softly like a hen as though I was the baby chick under its maternal care. Certainly the killer beast had been transformed as it must have made it way over the River Styx into heaven along with me.
The light was blinding and I expected to see Saint Peter granting me permission to enter the pearly gates.
It had to be heaven, for I was no longer trapped and buried in the dark igloo of death!Pupils adjusting - Eyes focusing - I was both happy and sad to see the plain reality of my fate. A giant nutcracker, car parts, stacks of National Geographic magazines, old boats and a mound of collapsed construction blocks piled next to my body.
Sad - that I was not in heaven.
Happy - to be alive.
I had been laid out on my back, face-up, eyes adjusting to the bright sun overhead. This was my backyard and it certainly was not heaven by any stretch of the imagination. The ropes were off of my hands and feet and I laid there with a daisy clutched in my fist - hands on my chest - as if prepared for burial. Looking past a couple old boats (that had collected water from the sprinkler) towards the window I saw "Lazarus," the miracle cat, staring at me!
A SIGN! I had escaped death!
This cat had cheated death and so did I. "Cats had nine lives" goes the saying, and as I figured it, I was at least on life number 11: Salton Sea, The hamper, Sister Godzilla, the Templates, the Furnace, the Pool Electrocution, Milk Wars, Fish Sticks, Escaping rattlesnakes, Snapping Turtles, Prankster Presidents, Iguana Del Diablo, the Alligator, Jerry T. T. and the Flying Leap, Albino Camps, Area 51 and our Harding Ave Roswell event, Third grade and Mrs Simpson, Jalapenos, The Kitchen Electrocutions, Two other burials...and the Severed leg at McIlliot's pool, of course - not all of those incidents meant literal death, but I should have died at least ten times already -AND NOW I WAS ON LIFE - NUMBER ELEVEN! For sure!
I think that stupid cat was actually looking at me as an inspiration...believing that if I could escape death this many times (as a mere mortal), then maybe it had a couple more lives on reserve as well.
There was no one around and I don't know how I got out!
There were no parents
No Lennon Sisters (who lived down the street)
No Mr. Nargie (the mailman across the street)
No Edna (the grouch next door)
No Jerry T.T. (Thank heavens)
No Tommy (my bestest buddy ever)
No Jimmy ("the Slurper")
No Wolf Pack ( I think my older brothers and the hippie commies were all still in Tuna Canyon).
No one, I was completely alone!
This was a mystery that rivaled that of the Fraternity Fire!
The only thing I could come up with, was - "My Guardian Angel" I don't know how many of these angels my family have already sent into early retirement or how many of those angels get "Hazard Pay" when assigned to the Dahlins as a member of God's elite special forces, but I'm sure they deserve every penny of their paycheck.
It was 1969 and the Pope may have decommissioned poor 'O Saint Christopher... but I was saved somehow - and was convinced it was a miracle!
I turned around, shook my fist triumphantly at the Igloo of Death and although becoming more and more numb inside - Less Human - More Robot - I felt this deadening on the inside that had been cauterizing the soft tissue of my heart, was a way of protected me from being a victim.
Shaking off the dirt... I ran over to Tommy's house as though none of this had ever happened!
Whistling on the way - I wondered how more escapes, how many more lives, how many more miracles, and how many more angels I would be entitled to (mom, sorry about the dangling preposition at the end, but for now, I'm
Until next time... and I can guarantee there is a lot more to come!
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