To Be or Not to Be

I find myself part of a story in this life that is seven times bigger than I am. I'm pretty sure someone, somewhere, in a faraway place and very long ago, stole time. This caused a shift in the karmic debt payment plan structure that should have taken the seven years like it was supposed to.

This narrative started when I died, but I learned that the story started long before any of us ever came to be. I'm what you would call a doppelgänger.

A doppelgänger is a palpable double of a person in culture, folklore, and fiction. In colloquial language, the word doppelgänger has come to refer to a person's double or look-alike. In Norse mythology, we are perceived as a ghostly double who precedes a living person and is seen carrying out his or her actions in advance. You may commonly know this as déjà vu. The literal translation of doppelgänger is double walker, or in common English, a twin. That's me. The Twin.

While we were separated at birth by death, I wasn't the cause of the disarray of the affairs; our parents — and their parents before them and their parents before them — were going back through the various tests of time. And here now in this moment on this day, I feel compelled to tell the story because I got out, and she got left behind.

After spending a long nine months in each other's arms, overhearing the downward spiral of the world we were about to enter, I just knew I wasn't going to make it. The accusations were fierce, and the desolation pumping through our Genius Mother's veins was suffocating. There could only be enough breath for one of us, and I knew my twin was the stronger one. As much as I knew that my time to live would be taken from me, somehow I understood that my never knowing life would be necessary for my twin to fulfill her life's purpose.

It happened quickly and painlessly. I had a vision of lying in the gutter. I could feel the dirty, musty water against my face, and I could smell every bad thing that would ever happen to me wafting out of that water. I tried to wiggle free but couldn't move. Riveted to the images that played out before me, I saw a life that wasn't mine teaching me everything I would need to know. I watched myself grow in stature and knowledge to be a female with the human age of thirty-five, and somehow I knew that would be my age for all eternity. I also knew instinctively that the Genius Mother they called Paige who was trying to give birth on the table below was passing her intelligence to me as she quietly realized she was successful in letting me go from this world.

As all the genetic, energetic, and intellectual knowledge seeped inward into and through the strands of my DNA, there was a prolonged silence that seemed to wrap itself around me like a spider spinning silk around a fly. I wasn't even sure when I stopped breathing, so I gave in to that moment of paralysis and to whatever higher power would take me. In a silent whisper, I truly and unconditionally prayed to be redeemed for giving up, but I mostly prayed for my Twin, who was about to surprise everyone.

I could see the relief sweep over Paige's face as she settled back onto the table. She knew I was gone — and she seemed pleased with herself — but as the next wave of pain swept across her face, she realized I hadn't been alone, and this she hadn't counted on.

From this place of higher consciousness I was able to see that my Twin would become the archetype of misplaced youth. She was about to go from the seat of neglect to the throne of unbridled chaos, and the odds would most certainly be against her. I also saw that she would be unwavering in her quest to make sense of her world, and the indelible footprints of her questioning would leave her intent on finding a way to sever the umbilical cord. It was perfectly clear that I had to find a way to help her.

The answer came promptly and plainly, since with my last breath came the gift of ageless wisdom and divine intelligence. I was now a Doppelgänger Being with vocabulary and knowledge. I had understanding and emotion and perception and intellect, and my intellect was telling me I had to send for reinforcements.

I would need assistance in a big way. I needed angels — and I don't mean just any kind of angels. I mean guardian angels of archangel proportions — the kind of angels that you only ever read about. I had no sooner thought this when they appeared to me. Like the dream team they were, five celestial angelic angels appeared, eager and curious. If I didn't know any better, I would have said they knew this was coming. Is that even possible? With no time to waste, I explained the severity of the situation. The angels assured me they knew all about it, and they had known all along they would be called upon. They quickly introduced themselves.

"I am Archangel Michael, a great prince who stands up for children. I symbolize protection, and I have great strength and valor. I am a protector from one's own fears."

"Archangel Gabriel at your service," he said, giving a playful bow as he did. "I am the revealer who helps you understand visions of the future. I am also proud to be the supreme messenger of God and enjoy overseeing communications."

"I am Archangel Raphael, and I am a healer and the guardian of the people. It is my responsibility to bring God's healing light to earth. And this is Archangel Zadkiel. He is the compassionate and merciful one. He helps heal painful memories and assists you in forgiving."

"How do you do?" asked the one named Zadkiel.

Coming forward a little clumsily with a bunch of scrolls in his hands, he said, "I am Archangel Uriel. I am the angel of the divine presence. My scrolls and books hold much wisdom. I am a patron of the arts. I like to call myself the angel of poetry."

It was Archangel Michael who spoke next. "We have been waiting patiently for the death of the Doppelgänger that would be the spiritual link to the Twin they will call Kate. We knew you would be coming, and we have been listening for your call for quite some time. You must know there are rules. You cannot interfere. There will be times when you will want to turn your head and cover your eyes, so just do it. Look away and trust that we will hold her through the most arduous times. Be prepared that in your connection with her there will be times when you feel what she feels, and it won't feel good. There will be times you will want to grab her and take cover, but you won't be able to. Also know there will be many times when she will know laughter, but that isn't what this story is about."

When they told me this, I had no idea what they meant, but boy, would I learn soon enough; they so weren't kidding.

Using poetry as a conduit and dreams as their couriers, their messages to Kate were far from ambiguous. Throughout her evolution, the poetry sent to her by Archangel Uriel would speak of the possibilities of rising above it all, but she wouldn't know enough. Regrettably, poets write from a place of anguish, so my little Kate would have to succumb to the never-ending invitations of do or die.

Young, naïve, and lost in the self-pity of the process, she would not understand the lessons their words were trying to teach. At the guidance of Archangel Uriel, it seems only fitting that I include the poems here — unscathed, intertwined in her story, and dated by human age. And so I watched as Archangel Uriel opened one of his many scrolls and whispered the first of many poems in Kate's ear.

What do you do when you wake from a dream and you're crying? The tears of a life unattended, a missed encore, a curtain call — the orchestra is a sight for sore eyes and a mystery wink. You will not look back in sorrow or in pain; look to the future and how bright it is. You will take one step at a time. You will love and prosper. Be wise in your decisions, and count your blessings. Let us, your Guardian Angels, the Archangels of Heaven itself, show you how to walk. Greet every day with love in your heart. Listen to your life and heed its suggestions, prompts, and warnings. We will assist you. We will never leave your side. Listen well to your heart, your body, and your soul; our messages will reside there. We shall help you set out to break the lineage of your past.

— Just Born

At my last breath — and even with the help of the archangels — Kate came into this world being what you might call really bad timing. She was the almost-wasn't, and believe you me, sometimes she was going to wish that she wasn't ... but so it was to be.

One of the perks of my being a Doppelgänger Being hovering in another realm, so to speak, was that it gave me more than just knowledge; I was able to read the ancient scrolls of the angels, and this is where I found the history of how my twin, Kate, came to be in this life and from this lineage. As I read, it came to life before me in images like a hologram. This I knew was Archangel Gabriel's doing.

Kate was the second born to a Genius Mother named Paige who was the daughter of Mateo, a Puerto Rican naval officer, and Sofia, a debutante southern belle from North Carolina. Paige was cute, chubby, and a child genius. When Paige was younger, she skipped grades in school, tested off the charts, and was misunderstood by her parents, who had no schooling. Sofia, draped in her mink shawl, would ridicule her for being overweight, and when it was time for scolding, Mateo would send a belt across her bottom. She was rebellious, bored, and wise beyond her years.

"Mateo," Sofia would call out in her southern drawl. "Do something about Paige! We have the veterans' ball in a month's time, and she'll be the fattest kid in the room."

I watched Paige sneaking snacks in the kitchen while Sofia, the Debutante Southern Belle, sat in the living room, cigarette dangling from her mouth, reading magazines or diet books — anything that she thought would make her daughter thinner. While in the other room, Paige would guilefully tiptoe across the kitchen linoleum to take a cookie from the jar above the refrigerator, a treat that any child should indulge in after school. It wouldn't take long for her to get caught. A smudge of chocolate on her upper lip, telltale crumbs on the front of her pristine school uniform, or an empty slot in the cookie tin would appear — all indications of her deceit, and punishment would not be far behind.

Deep down, Paige knew her father wasn't intentionally cruel; violence was just a method his generation understood. He was pragmatic and militaristic to the core. He knew he could whip new recruits into shape, and if that method was good enough for the Navy, then it was good enough for his child. She did not begrudge him his belief system. Even still, on the days she was caught, I could hear Paige talking to her doll, allowing the tears to fall slowly down her cheeks. "It's not that they don't love me. They don't understand me, and they can't love me the way I need them to. They don't know that stringent diets and physical punishment just push me further into the confines of my own mind. There's too much information in here for me. Isn't there anyone who can understand me?"

I could see Paige sitting in her room, staring out the window and watching the clouds morph into familiar shapes. She fiddled with the hemline of her skirt so much so that one area became worn down and frayed. Her mind seemed to wander, and her thoughts took her to a time when she would no longer feel the scorn of Sofia judging her waist size or to a time when Mateo would no longer swing his belt across her bottom.

Paige was now of high school age as I contemplated what this all meant, and she began to set every curve on every test and gain the respect of her high school teachers.

"Paige, come stand in for the hour while I go to the teachers' associations meeting. Cover chapter seven."

I could feel the reluctance but also a sense of pride from her as I watched her slowly approach the front of the room and begin to ask the questions of her classmates to insure they had read the chapter.

I watched Paige get home each afternoon and go straight to her room to grab her doll and stare out the window. The daydreaming seemed to act as a surrogate for the sort of love she so desperately longed for. And that is perhaps why Paige fell in love when she did.

At thirteen, Paige was on a slow walk to grab some milk at her mother's request when a boy stepped in her way.

"You again," he said with a smirk. "I have been watching for you every day for a week wondering when you'll be going to the store again," said the sixteen-year-old street kid from an affluent Cuban family who had nothing better to do. "What is your name, my vision of loveliness? I am Alex," he said.

"Umm, hi. I'm Paige," she replied, stumbling over her words.

"May I walk with you?" he asked.

"Yes, umm, okay. I'm just going right here," she said.

"Well, I will wait and walk you home then," he replied quickly with confidence.

The next morning was Sunday, and instead of going to church, she went to the corner of 185 and Amsterdam to fall in love — and for every Sunday after that as the years passed quickly, the baby fat started to melt away, and she blossomed into a lovely young woman.

This love gave Paige the drive to start working at the local hospital the day she turned sixteen, and the money she earned from cleaning dirty bed sheets got stashed under her pillow. "It may be gross, but I will have enough money to move into my first apartment the day I turn eighteen, and that is fast approaching," she said to the always-listening ears of her beloved doll.

A year later, Alex moved in, and when Paige was twenty they had Mia, their first born and at twenty-one, their second — my twin, Kate.

In that first apartment, Paige really came into her own. She was a perfect five-feet-nine inches tall with long straight brown hair parted in the middle and chocolate-cherry brown eyes. She wore a purely lit spiritual aura that she didn't know she had and still carried the hopes of childhood dreams.

One day, while Mia slept and before Kate was ever a thought, Paige was sitting and cutting out images from magazines and taping them to the off-white walls when Alex came through the door. "I spy a beautiful woman," he said with a smile, sitting down next to her on the green velvet sofa.

Paige was talking excitedly. "This is where we will go for summer months."

Mateo was the same height, with brown hair and brown eyes too, but his eyes held more longing and restlessness. And Paige didn't notice.

"And we'll be together forever," she continued. "And we'll live in the country when we get old and maybe have some horses."

He would laugh at her, because the story was different every time.

"I thought you said we would move to Florida to be near the beach?" he would ask.

"Perhaps," she would say, staring off for a while at the avocado-green refrigerator in the kitchen, as if recalibrating the dream. "The only thing I'm sure of is that we'll be together forever."

It's one thing to be fed by daydreams and fairy tales when you're young. But in a real relationship, there are complications.

There was a lot of confusion surrounding the knowledge of my Twin's attendance. By the time she made her presence known, the future between Mateo and Paige had grown bleak. The argument was always the same. "That baby is not mine! I wasn't even here. I was in the county jail!" he yelled for the hundredth time in five months. With her fists clenched at her sides, her voice breaking over the lump swelling in her throat, Paige whispered, "Yes, she is, you crazy son of a bitch. Where else did she come from?"

Holes in the drywall from enraged fists stared back at her. Glasses lay in piles on the floor, shattered like the dreams she used to cling to. Her nose ran, and her face was streaked with tears. The apartment that once symbolized a hope for a beautiful future and freedom from her family had become an empty cave.

Paige had no intention of bringing another child into the world, not when her world was crumbling down around her. When the abortion attempts were unsuccessful ...

"Wait! What? Archangel Michael! Are you there?" I called out in desperation.

"I'm here, child," came his strong and resonant voice.

"Am I reading this right? Is that what happened to me? That's why Paige thinks the abortion was unsuccessful? Only one of us died, and she didn't know there were two of us?"

"Yes. What happened to you was deliberate and necessary, like we've tried to explain to you. We need you with us to be our link, our connection to the one who holds your bloodline. There is something bigger than all of us at play here, and in time all will be revealed."

With a new added slump in my shoulders I rolled up the scroll, put it neatly on the shelf, and sat back down as Archangel Gabriel opened the portal to connect me to Kate's soul.

"It is time to face the reality of the life Kate is going to live, isn't it? And you're telling me I am the link to her salvation?" "Yes," responded Archangel Michael and Archangel Gabriel in unison.