人鬼情未了

Day Three

Being dead is going to take some getting used to. According to earth time this would be day three of my so called death. I keep looking down on North America， I guess it’s still home to me for the moment anyway. Well， to make a diary note

shorter， once seen is enough， and so it was a good visit， but I must learn how to control it. It is like going to the 1)Rocky Mountains or possibly

I could qualify it to equal the 2)Badlands in

3)South Dakota， going back there back and forth like a yoyo. But again， once seen， that is enough，

unless this kind of thing is your thing， and it is not my thing by far: I mean， I’m only on day three， and this is what you get. I think that area is best for campers， not me. I’d prefer hotels， but I suppose you don’t need them out here. The more I think of it， something is missing. Oh well， I’ll investigate. Now it’s becoming evening time over 4)Minnesota (where my wife lives， Rosa)， the sun is going down.

Day Four

Morning time in Minnesota， the sun is coming up， I got an 5)inkling， I got to go back to see how my little wife is doing， Rosa. I know for a few hours after I died， she was upset， crying， hysterical.

I didn’t know what to do for her， she couldn’t see me， and I did not know how to communicate with her other than trying to set a mood， by way of producing calmness about her immediate space: prayer helped.

She got me to the hospital， and I know I was getting better， a heart attack I heard them say. Then she stayed overnight， and I died in the middle of the night， she had fallen to sleep. I was happy about that， happy because she was so tired: everyone thought I was in a coma， but I was really between life and death， a new kind of order they didn’t anticipate， one that is dreamy like， a stage before death， one you can see about you， hear sounds and sense people， but cannot talk， it is not a coma， although folks think it is， or could be， it is in-between where you touch the hand of Christ， but cannot feel it， only see it， and where your

6)pores are filled with the light of God. Then I died， and got sent here， not sure for how long though.

That little 7)Inca wife of mine just cried and cried， and hugged me， I wanted to comfort her， but she’ll have to go through it like me someday，Lord willing I’ll be there to comfort her.

Anyways I am now in my old house， hovering about. She’s got my 8)urn next to my mother’s， she had me 9)cremated today. She’s crying again. I wonder if I can somehow let her know I’m here， and all right. Now， she is sitting in my big sofa chair in the living room， tears are still coming down. Let’s see if I can do something to let her know I’m present. I’ll make noise like walking on the floor， footsteps， not too creepy， just light enough for her to know I am with her. But how do I do that， I don’t weigh anything?

Middle of the Night

Got a new idea， I’ll enter her dreams， slowly， if this is possible， and I heard the nightmare 10)demon can do it all the time， unless you pray for them not to. Therefore， why cannot a good 11)spirit like me do it? That of course a question for me， one I’ll answer by trying to do， what I’m not sure I can do.

I’m not sure how you do it， but I got a sense of how will come—I’ll sit by her and just

whisper in her ears， and try to create a sense of me， and she will picture me， and I will let her know all is well: “Rosa， Rosa， Rosa， Rosa， Rosa...， all is well， I love you， always have， it is me， I’m all dressed in white， I’ll be waiting for you and we’ll travel around the world， no， better yet， around the worlds， and into new galaxies.”

She sees me， visualizing me says， in her dream world (I hope she remembers and writes it down): “...yes， yes， I DO see you，” she says.

“I’m fine Rosa， I’m doing OK， I miss you and I’ll be around should you need me， just call on me. Like my mother used to do， remember how she kept us from the fire?”

She’s crying in her sleep， says: “...no， no don’t go.”

“But I can’t stay too long; it takes too much whatever it is， energy and like the bee， remember the bee in the bottle， he lost his energy to fly， then he could hardly walk trying to climb that glass bottle， then I set him free and he nourished himself

in the grass， and he regained his power， and flight， and flew away; perhaps for another day.”

She went back to sleep， she’s stop

crying. She’s breathing better now. I think she’ll

remember this dream as more realistic than

non-fiction， I hope.

第三天

已經死去的這種狀態也是需要適應的。按世上的時間算，現在應該是我所謂去世的第三天了。我一直往下盯著北美大陸看，我想，至少目前它還是我的家。好了，讓這篇日記簡煉些吧。看一看就夠了，算是好好看了一回，可我得學會如何控制自己。就好像是去洛基山脈，或者可以說像去到南達科他州的巴德蘭茲地區，來來回回就像游游拉線盤。不過呢，還是那句話，看過一回就夠了——除非這是你特別喜歡的，但到目前為止對我來說，它還不是。我是說，這才是我的第三天，就已經這樣了。我覺得在這個地區最適合露營，但不適合我。我寧愿住旅館，不過，我想人在這里也不需要旅館。我越想，就越覺得缺了點兒什么。好吧，我會找找看。明尼蘇達州現在已經是晚上的時間了，太陽正在下山，我妻子羅莎就住在

這里。

第四天

明尼蘇達州的早上，太陽正在升起。我心中隱約覺得要回去看看我的嬌妻羅莎現在怎么樣了。我知道在我死后的幾個小時里，她很傷心，一直歇斯底里地哭。我當時不知道該怎么辦才好，她看不見我，而我除了試圖在她的周圍營造一個寧靜的氣氛外（祈禱幫上了忙），我不知道該怎么與她交流。

她把我送到醫院，我知道我正在好轉，我聽他們說我是心臟病發作。她那晚呆在醫院里，而我在深夜死了，當時她睡著了。這一點我感到很滿意，因為她實在是太累了：所有人都以為我處于昏迷狀態，其實我當時正在生與死之間，這是一種他們事先沒有估計到的新狀態。……