The Last Story by Christopher Pike Read Free Book Online

shook his head. "Shari, he's what we've been looking for. He's why we came back."

    I chuckled. "You can't say that. You just met him. He hasn't even taught you anything yet. You don't even know if his meditation techniques will work."

    Peter was thoughtful. "It's not what he says that's important. It's the love he radiates.
    Already, I think, he's taught me a great deal."

    I stood. "Let's talk about it in the morning. I have to go to bed now or I'm going to fall on the floor. Are you coming?"

    Peter nodded, and quickly lifted himself into his wheelchair. "You'll understand when you meet him. Everything will make sense."

    I shook my head doubtfully. "Not much makes sense these days."

    CHAPTER

    V

    JL WOKE UP outside my body. Standing and looking down to where Peter and I slept.
    The room was dark but I could see. Not for a moment did I think I was dead, although my disorientation was similar to when I woke up back home in my bed after Amanda had shoved me off the balcony. There was stuff in the air now, the same stuff that I had wandered through for days when I was first on the other side of the grave. It was everywhere, translucent, vaguely gaseous, and flowing around the room, around the furniture, through the walls. It blurred my vision but not too badly. I could see my body breathing, hear myself snoring softly. Peter stirred as I stepped closer to the bed. He rolled over and wrapped his arm around me as I slept. Being crippled, he didn't usually move much during the night. He was nice and warm to sleep beside.

    There was a reason I was outside my body, I realized.

    I was to learn something. What, I didn't know.

    I sat on the bed and reached out to touch Peter, to stroke his head. But soon after I touched him, I was gone. Touching a sleeping person while traveling out of body usually drags one into the sleeping person's dreams. I fell fast but not very far.

    On the inside, a slight Indian man was sitting cross-legged on a sheet-draped chair. There were bunches of flowers around him and a candle flickered on his right side. He sat with his eyes closed and Peter sat at his feet, his eyes also shut. With his long black hair and beard, the man looked nothing like the Rishi, but Peter was right—there was an aura of peace around him so strong it was like being wrapped in an angel's embrace. As I moved closer, the man opened his eyes and gazed at me. A soft smile touched his lips, and he bid me sit beside him, also at his feet.
    A red rose lay on his lap, and he picked it up and gave it to me.

    "Shari," he said. "You are here."

    I accepted the flower, the fragrance strong in my nose. Never before had I smelled anything in a dream and I wondered if other people did. The feeling of love emanating from the man was almost overwhelming. Something in my chest loosened, and I found myself growing emotional.

    "Where is here?" I asked.

    "It's a place to meet. The place is not important.

    What is important is that you came to see me.'

    "But I didn't go to see you. I didn't go to the lecture."

    "Why not?"

    "I'm too caught up in what I have to do. And I want so many things."

    "What do you want?"

    "I don't know. Recognition. Love. Sex. I'm a young woman. I feel I should have everything that other women have." I lowered my head. "I feel so ashamed."

    "Why?"

    I glanced at Peter. "Can he hear us?"

    "This is a private meeting."

    I continued to stare at Peter. "I've betrayed him. And I'm going to betray him again. I know it."

    "You don't betray him. If you know something is wrong, and you do it anyway, you betray yourself."

    The yogi paused. "Peter is doing fine. Don't worry for him."

    "Who are you? Are you the Rishi?"

    "Who are you? Are you Shari Cooper? Or are you Jean Rodrigues?"

    I nodded. I wasn't these people, these personalities.

    I was the infinite soul, but I had forgotten that.

    He was saying he was the same soul as the Rishi, that we were all the same. Yet the realization brought me no peace. I lowered