THE SECOND CHANCE: VIOLET EYES

I awoke slowly, climbing up from the depths of a deep, deep sleep. Rubbing my eyes, they opened to a bright all-white room. I thought maybe I was having trouble focusing but then I realized there was no furniture that I could see and the light seemed to come from the ceiling and walls themselves which shimmered and didn’t look quite solid. I looked down, finding I was also dressed all in white, my entire outfit exactly matching the color of the room. As my head cleared I noticed the couch I was reclining on. It, too, was solid white and seemed to match the rest of the room, shimmering and not quite solid-appearing. I rose to my feet and the couch immediately disappeared, seemingly merging into the wall. What was this place?

I walked across the floor to the wall I was facing. Putting out my hand I pushed into the wall, and I do mean “pushed into.” My hand disappeared into it. I pulled it back quickly. I didn’t know where I was or what I might find on the other side. Something dangerous? I wasn’t taking any chances. As I examined the room further I suddenly realized that there were no windows and no doors. So…how did I get in here and how was I going to get out?

If I had to guess I’d say I walked around for maybe fifteen minutes or so when a man suddenly appeared, walking through the wall opposite. Dressed in a white suit, shirt, tie, socks, and shoes, he spoke slowly but clearly, “Well, Richard, you seem to have caused us quite a dilemma.”

“What? Who are you? Where am I? What is this place? And what kind of dilemma did I cause?”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“Truthfully, I don’t really remember anything,” I replied. “How about answering my questions? Where am I? How did I get here? And, who are you?”

“Please sit and I’ll explain everything,” he continued. I looked around confused. I couldn’t see any place to sit, so he spoke again, “Just sit and a chair will appear, like this.” He began to sit and a chair immediately appeared, formed out of the wall. I tried it and another suddenly appeared beneath me.

“Let me show you brief film clip to jog your memory.” A portion of the adjacent wall transformed into either a large flat-screen TV or a small projection screen. The film showed a car, an old heap—the driver losing control and veering off the road into a large oak; the fuel tank burst causing a searing fire.

“Oh…OK, I remember that now.” Following what I saw on the wall I narrated as the video progressed. “I saw the smoke in the distance and raced to the scene. There I am, driving like a maniac. Yes…I do remember now jumping from my car before it even stopped. I saw the woman driver…there she is, her head ninety degrees to her body… so I knew right away… she was dead. Then I saw those two little kids in the back seat. I tried the door, see, I’m burning my hands. I’d never felt anything that hot. Then you can see how I kicked in the window, leaned in to grab the kids, and ran like hell. Yeah, I got about thirty feet away when the gas tank exploded, driving hot metal—you know, like shrapnel–into my back and throwing me forward onto my arms. Luckily, I was able to shield the kids. I hope they’re OK.”

“Richard, you were supposed to arrive just after the explosion. Do you recall how fast you were driving on that meandering country lane? We clocked you at just over 100 miles per hour. The mother and her children were supposed to die in that crash. Instead, she died, you died, and, yes, thanks to you the children lived. To answer your questions—I am what you’d call a ‘guide’. You are in an anteroom… where we sometimes hold people before deciding where they should spend eternity. The problem with you is…you’re not supposed to be here for a long time—and we have really strict rules about that. The Chief has had to intercede in this Himself.”

“The Chief? You mean,” I gulped, “…G…God?”

“Well, that’s what you call Him, but we just call Him ‘The Chief.’ It’s not disrespectful—He likes the informality immensely. As I said, The Chief has interceded Himself, which is highly irregular—highly irregular, indeed! He has given very specific instructions about you.

“We obviously can’t just send you back. Your body was horribly burned and everyone you know is aware that you died from that fire. You were 68, but we’re sending you back as a 30 year old man. Instead of being bald you’ll have light brown hair—a full head of it—and you’ll be a bit shorter at 6 feet, 2 inches, and lighter at just over 195 pounds so you’ll be fairly muscular and in much better physical condition than you are now.”

I had been thinking while all this was going on. “Can I ask for a few things? For example, can I be a scratch golfer?”

“Certainly, that’s easy. The Chief loves golf—plays it every day, although I’ll never know why. He gets a hole-in-one every time, and on almost every hole—the rest he gets either an eagle or an albatross. It seems to me that would get boring, but I never argue with The Chief.”

“Uhh, could I…?”

Before I could finish he continued, “Yes, we can give you a large penis, although I’ll never understand the fascination you humans have with that. Would eight-plus inches and fairly thick be OK?”

I nodded before continuing, but before I could get the words out he spoke again. “Yes, we can also make you ejaculate like Peter North. Anything else?”

“Uhh…what kind of job will I have? How will I support myself?”

“Well, this just shows how creative The Chief can be.” He produced something from thin air—“Here is a dollar bill. When you get back you are to go into the nearest convenience store and buy a $1 lottery scratch-off card, any kind. Put it into your left-hand pocket. Now, here is another dollar. With this one you are to buy a Powerball ticket. Put this one in your right-hand pocket. It’s important that you use each one exactly as I described. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied, putting the dollars away as instructed, “but… what numbers do I need to pick?”

“Duuuuuh…have faith! Just buy a ticket. Let the computer pick the numbers. It really doesn’t matter. You’ll have a wallet with identification so you’ll know your new name, but the address is a phony so don’t try going there. When you get back you’ll have few memories of your prior life—your name, wife, family, everything dealing with your personal life will all be wiped away. Believe me—it’s much better that way. Good luck.”

Chapter 2

I blinked and when I opened my eyes an instant later I was back. I found myself wearing a light jacket over a golf shirt and sweater vest. My pants were now jeans. A new pair of New Balance 655’s and what I used to call “gym socks” completed my outfit. The date on my watch said “Jan 7.” I checked the pockets and found the special dollars exactly as I had put them. I looked around and realized that I knew this place; I was in downtown Myrtle Beach, the big resort city in South Carolina. I’d come here several times with my wife on vacation, either to swim or play golf. Strange—I could remember that, but everything about my wife was a blank. I walked up Ocean Boulevard, noticing that almost all of the old mom-and-pop motels had been replaced by modern high rise hotels. After walking two blocks I saw a convenience store ahead on the left. I jaywalked across the street. There’s not much traffic there in January.

I stopped just outside, checking my reflection in the glass. I guess I was decent enough looking. I didn’t think women and children would run away screaming when they saw me. I opened the door and entered. Once inside I had to wait on line behind an elderly lady who must have been a regular. The clerk knew her name as she picked about a dozen scratch-offs totaling $20. I pulled out my dollar and asked for a $1 card. “Which one?” the clerk asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Which one has the biggest prize you can pay here in the store?” He gave me a card that looked a lot like a slot machine. I passed him the dollar. “Oh, before I forget, I need a Powerball ticket. Just one dollar—a quick pick.” Passing the second dollar I picked up the ticket from the counter.
I stood aside, using a paper clip from the counter to scratch the surface. For the big prize of $2500 I would need to find three “bells.” Three “oranges” would pay $100. The rest of the symbols were worthless. The first symbol was an orange. Next was a lemon. Finishing the top row was another lemon. So far this was not going too well. Remember, I thought—faith!

The second row was a bit more promising—cherry, orange, bell. The third row finished with bell, orange, bell. The ticket was worth $ 2,800. When I showed it to the clerk he said I could collect directly from him, but I would need to complete the tax forms for the IRS.

I reached into my pocket for my wallet, learning for the first time from my Virginia driver’s license that my name was George Shaw. I also found a blood donor’s card, two credit cards—Mastercard and American Express– and my social security card which I needed for the tax form, too. I also felt something in my jacket pocket—my passport. The rest of the wallet was empty, but not for long. I collected fifty-one hundred dollar bills and left. At the door I noticed the Powerball that evening would be for 260 million dollars. I found a nice hotel and checked in using some of my newly won cash; my room was oceanfront on the fourth floor with a king-sized bed. I spent a lot of time in front of a mirror before turning away to admire the ocean. I loved the way the sunlight played off the surface of the water. Returning to the street I wandered farther up the boulevard, stopping for lunch at an oceanfront restaurant and picking up swim trunks at a beachwear store. I spent the afternoon relaxing in the warm water of the indoor pool as I noticed my new body was pretty well toned.

A local bus took me to the nearby mall. The only clothes I had were on my back and I figured they’d be getting pretty ripe soon. I bought a few outfits thinking that God would provide more when the Powerball came in later that evening. Sure enough, at eleven sharp, my ticket won. The announcer stated that the computers showed only one winner. The ticket had been purchased in Myrtle Beach.

I slept well that evening, awakening just after eight a.m. I showered and shaved using some cheap supplies I had obtained from the hotel’s main desk, and dressed. I took a cab to the local Hertz office where I rented a car for a week, taking their expensive insurance because I obviously couldn’t prove I had any. I asked the guy at the desk about the local banks. He named a couple of national behemoths before recommending a small one I’d never heard of, but apparently with branches throughout the entire southeast. I went to the nearest office and, using $500 from my winnings, opened a checking account.
Using the GPS I drove to Columbia, the state capital, in search of the state Powerball office—it took me about two and a half hours. I had been told it would be in the state government complex and after a half-hour search I found it. I walked in and up to the counter. A twenty-something woman asked if she could help me. Checking out her hot body, I knew she could but I wasn’t about to mention that—at least not yet.

“Yes, I certainly hope so,” I replied, staring at her large firm breasts as they pressed against her tight cream-colored blouse; they were framed by long glistening black hair on each side.