Imagine if you suddenly would start to remember his former life.
That was what happened with Max.
He was a regular guy, who had succeeded.
31years and was working on a successful law firm in Las Vegas.
Wife and kids were not really his thing, he worked too much.
But he socialized often with the many friends his work provided him with.
It all began sometime after Max had come home after the holidays 98. Then he thought only that it was a recurring dream.
But after the New Year, he started getting memory lightning in broad daylight.
Person in his dream named Kevin Stanfield and lived in Denver in the middle of the century.
Around his birthday at the end of February 99 Max went to Denver to greet a colleague from law school in Seattle. They had kept in touch all these years and helped each other in difficult cases. They went out and fished and did exactly the same things they used to do every year. But before Max could go home, he went up to the city library. He asked them to seek out all that was about Kevin Stansfield, who lived in Denver in the 40s. They came back with a whole pile of folders. He sat down and went through all the old newspaper clippings and notes. Kevin seems to have been something of a local celebrity, he was everywhere at the images, along with dignitaries. Kevin Stansfield was born in Denver in 1928, where he lived almost his entire life. As long sued everything eerily well with Max's dream person. He trained as a doctor, and worked in Denver until 1967, when he had to go away as a doctor to Viet Nam. Where he died on February 15, 1968. Max was startled. Was it a coincidence that Kevin had died in Vietnam the same day as Max was born in Lincoln?
Konfundersam he sat in the car to go home to his apartment at home in Las Vegas. It was afternoon and Max did not expect to come home until late at night. It started to get dark and it was foggy. When he drove a few hours, he stopped to eat at a restaurant next to the road. He left the restaurant just a half hour later after having been at loggerheads with the waitress. He had just rounded a bend when he saw that there was no middle of the road! The man showed no tendency to move, and Max came closer and closer. One moment everything stood still, his saw the man just a few meters ahead. He was turned away, and floated as in the dense fog. But then he turned around and screaming and everything went so fast. Kevin slowed, but quickly realized that there was a chance he could catch, so he steered quickly away, slid across the roadway into a rock wall on the other side. Before he drove away, he had a glimpse of the man's face, he was absolutely sure of his ground. It was Kevin ...
They heard the bang all the way to the restaurant. After a few minutes came an ambulance and took Max to the hospital. The doctors at the small hospital in the city could do nothing, but he was sent to Phoenix. After some surgeries, doctors gave up, and said it was up to him whether he would survive.
Kevin Stansfield went on the way home to Danilli Hill, the old family farm.
He always walked to and from work at the hospital inside Denver.
It was the only exercise he got.
It was in early 1967, and the only thing that was broadcast on the radio (such a novelty that the TV was not for Kevin) was the news from the ongoing war in Vietnam.
He was glad he escaped to go away, they had heard about some awful things down there, and many of his medical colleagues had been sent away.
Many thought it would be over soon, and Kevin was happy every day he had to stay home.
Danilli Hill was a cute small farm not far from Denver, but not too close not to be on the land.
Kevin lived there with his mother, and Sarah a woman he had met some time.
Or they had probably been together before Kevin started reading.
Most thought it was "unhealthy" to have lived so long together without marrying.
But Kevin was already 39, why would he go and marry, they thrived as they had it now.
Now he could see the little house just a few hundred meters away, he thought he would probably have to repaint it to summer.
Blue, Danilli Hill had been blue as long as Kevin lived there, and Kevin was born in the little blue house below the hill.
They had been five siblings before him, but the oldest was only seven when he was born.
Three of them had died the year after Kevin was born.
The other two disappeared from home when they were just teenagers, and had then never made a sound.
Kevin had stayed as mins things and taking care of the yard and the parents.
He felt something sentimental where he went and looked back on his youth.
But it was a little eerie atmosphere in the air this beautiful March day.
When he walked through the front door it was desolate quiet, it was unusual because the two back home liked to gossip.
They sat in the kitchen and the man looked at them they cried.
His mother handed over a letter.
He did not have to read it, he knew within himself what was in the letter.
When he left Danilli Hill just a week later, he felt that he would never get a chance to paint on the farm for the summer.
He arrived in Vietnam in April 1967. He was immediately at work, and it was not long before he stopped thinking about those back home. The days ran on and became weeks, he saw more people die in a week than he had seen during his 15 years at the hospital in Denver. There he trembled every time for the meeting with the relatives. Now he was not thinking that the young man who died on the table in front of him, maybe he had a wife or children awaited him home. In late September 1967, he experienced the worst so far. There was a young aviator who crashed, survived, and was captured by the North Vietnamese. He had injured himself hard in the crash, and then been beaten before he managed to escape. Then he had struggled through the dense jungle on foot in 3dygn before he was found. He was emaciated, and too broken. It took a whole day to fix him, they had been forced to amputate an arm away. When he woke up after sleeping two days, he realized that life was not worth living anymore, and went and shot himself behind the infirmary. At New Year the same year, he learned that he would be moved to a quieter area. He was almost indifferent, and thought it was a pain to have to move. But after having been in the new camp for a week, he learned that the old camp has been bombed. Only a few had survived.
On 10 February 1968 he went on a special mission. They would to another station pretty far away to fetch medicine. For the new camp could no helicopters to land. They were gone a few days to report and fix some other things. It was nice to meet some other people and hear some news from the US. They went from there in the evening, February 14, and would be back at dawn. They traveled in small jeeps, 3 pieces. So were the 12 people alone in the dark and dense Vietnamese jungle. It was not a good way so Kevin could only doze off for a few minutes. At 4 in the morning woke Kevin aircraft engine humming, it was American planes and it appeared on the long road. They sank just above their heads, and thundered down quickly. When they were so close to the ground they could, they began to emit a liquid. They looked like the new pest control plan that the neighbor in Denver proudly showed up the summer before Kevin. He did not really understand what was happening, he leaned down and defended themselves for all the drops of water that struck down around him. It started to smell rancid and where a drop hit down there was now a hole in his coat. He knew how much it hurt when the liquid is corroded through his coat and reached his skin. All around him lay and whimpered, most had had bare arms and the liquid left behind large blisters. The man beside him fell into his lap, and his whole face was corroded. He felt his carotid artery, and he thought the man was dead. He feared that all the others were dead. The aircraft had landed and now came pilots and passengers stövlande through the forest. Kevin felt very dull and did nothing. The men of the planes had gas masks when they came close, one of them off the gas mask and you heard a horrified voice:
My God, they are Americans.
Now understand, Kevin, it was unusual that the American Medical troops traveled this lonely road in the middle of the night, (or it had never happened and will never happen again) and the American aircraft had taken for granted that they were North Vietnamese. Kevin was about to call to but someone else beat me to it, it was one of the drivers who called for help.
- There is someone alive, cried a low voice.
To Kevin's surprise the man went back and killed the driver.
- Ensure that no one else alive, we do not want any witnesses to what happened. We take them to the nearest camp and say that we found them here. Kevin lay life down, trying not to breathe. But it is impossible to do so that your heart rate does not hit. They walked around and felt in everyone's heart, but everyone else seemed to be gone. One of them came up to Kevin bent down, pressed his fingers against his neck.
- Here's one that's still alive, but he seems quite gone.
- Bring him ordered a gruff voice.
The man picked him up and whispered:
- Is there something I can do.
- Ensure that the farm will be painted, Kevin was not thinking about what he said, but in some way he felt that this man would make his last wish was fulfilled. Then I got Kevin Stanfield, a bullet through his head and died immediately Feb. 15, 1968 in Vietnam. "He was attacked by a group of North Vietnamese."
Biiip, biiip, biiip all doctors came running into the room where Max was.
He had had atrial fibrillation.
The doctors made a last attempt with cardiac massage.
But Max died in Phoenix May 7, 1999 31 years old.
Then he had lain in a coma for two months.
Max hurled into darkness. But all the time he saw in Kevin Stansfield's face, that which caused him to run off the road, the one that looked for so he died. He saw Danilli Hill when it was new, painted blue, as it had been throughout Kevin's upbringing. He saw Sarah standing there with Kevin's old mother. Beautiful summer, but we saw that they mourned. Kevin mourned as dead, murdered by his own countrymen. But they did not, they thought he was dead, proud, in violation of their country. When Kevin died, Max continued to live his life !? Max knew how everything disappeared, his touch, his body, his mind, his consciousness. Entire he disappeared.
Max woke up in the Nowhere. He knew he was dead, he knew he would soon find out the answer to life's unanswered riddle. But he was dead now, so it would still be forever life, unanswered riddle. He already knew the answer to the first part of the mystery, there was a life after death, but where? Max felt watched, examined from head to toe. Everything became black again, he catapulted into a new world of space, but this time he was not conscious. The memories were erased. Kevin existed no more, no Max, either, just a body or a soul was on the way to somewhere. When he woke up for the second time, he was really somewhere. Standing on a green meadow in the sky. There was no evil. He felt the pressure on the head, which always existed on earth, was gone. Everything was as he imagined heaven would be like. All around him, ran children, a river glittered in the sunlight. He could not resist taking a dip. He just did a lot of wonderful things, unaware that he once belonged elsewhere.