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EXCERPT … Chapter 1: Midnight Special
{ PRESENT: April 23, 1964, 11:57 p.m. – Through the Veil } Floating in the cobalt sky of a Yukon night above the Mooney family’s apartment building, I summon the soul of Mack and Hannah's child from the ethereal realm. Brilliant sparks illuminate the sapphire orb at the tip of my gold staff like a cyclone of fireflies inside a mason jar.
My name is Lady Hope. For three thousand years, I've been guiding this devoted soul toward Dharma. At last, we're on the precipice of this crucial soul’s final incarnation. You see, this is a Volunteer Soul committed to enduring the Angels’ Gauntlet and becoming a messenger for the greater good of humanity. Three phases. Ten lessons … each. Success is rare, so I've waited three days since the babe's birth to deliver her soul. The technique is risky, but it's the only way to keep the Fallen Angels unaware of her arrival.
To be clear, a body cannot survive without a soul for very long. Personally, I've never pushed it past three days. And this is only the second time I've tried this. Due to the secrecy of how my mission ties into this particular soul, I couldn't ask the other Archangels for helpful hints. So I've prayed, a lot.
Two floors below, twenty-two-year-old Mack Mooney is settling into a theta state of pre-sleep in a hand-me-down rocking chair. The tiny infant is swaddled in his arms while his wife Hannah—who turns eighteen next month—sleeps soundly in the next room.
Outside, above the apartment roof, I begin questioning the non-binary Volunteer Soul exactly like their previous thirty-two lives: “Do you realize how difficult this final lifetime of your mission is going to be?”
No. How could I? One does not know what one does not know.
“How will you prepare yourself for the things you cannot see?”
By listening.
“What if the cacophony is deafening?”
Then I shall listen with my heart.
“Have you chosen your Desired Exit Dates?”
Yes, but I have no intention of using my DED stops this time.
“What if you have no choice.”
There is always a choice. I will choose to live and close all ten gates of each gauntlet.
“Thirty gates. Without fail?”
I promise.
“What if you forget that promise?”
Someone or something will remind me.
“How can you be so sure?”
As I understand it … this is the way faith works.
“What will you do in moments of darkness?”
Wait for the light.
“What will you do in moments of doubt?”
Pray for guidance.
“And when you fail to pray, fail to wait, fail to understand, fail to remember, fail to listen, and fail to see … what will you do then?”
I will suffer.
“What good will suffering do?”
Suffering through a ‘dark night of the soul’ is a rite of passage born out of sacrifice. Empathy and grace sprout from sacrifice, in turn raising my vibration.
“Why should you endeavor to raise your vibration?”
So that my body, soul, and spirit can endure the Angels’ Gauntlet … and I can achieve Dharma to become an angel messenger.
The old Volunteer is right. We must both rely on faith. At the final stroke of midnight I extract the sage soul from my orb and deliver it across the veil, into the child in Mack’s arms ... inciting the ‘wail of inception.’
Three days ago, Melodee Rae Mooney barely survived her gauntlet’s first gate: Fear of Death. Protecting the fresh human from Fallen Angel poisoning could only be ensured under a shroud of silence. Postponing the inception was my insurance policy.
