Memoir of Rebirth
I will never forget the sight of that rock falling from the sky. Chunk of mountain is a better description. The brief seconds I watched the free-fall of stone will forever be etched into my memory. The blue and green striations on the rock haunt me with their hypnotic dancing as the rock tumbled end over end toward me. What comes next is pain and darkness.
That is as far as I remember, after that is silence of sound and color.
Ok, by now you (yeah you the reader, my esteemed audience) are no doubt wondering something along the lines of, “What happened with the rock? Did this guy die? If he is dead how am I reading a memoir?” In answer, I will only tell you that if I answered simply than there would be no reason for you to continue reading, would there?
“Who am I?” you ask. Well, I am Lat Rommi, and for me skybound rocks are just the beginning of my life. Ok, well maybe not the beginning, beginning, but at least when my life started getting interesting.
The majority of my life has been very boring and contains very little that you would interested in reading about. I grew up in a in the Rommi household, and the most noteworthy event of my childhood was the minute an official from the social security office came into my mother’s hospital room and asked her what my name was going to be on my social security card. You see I was originally supposed to be named Sal Rommi after my uncle who died a few weeks before I was born. However, when the official asked my name my mom blurted out “Lat”.
“What is the heck is Lat?” My father asked with a mix of anger and surprise. My uncle was his best friend.
“I don’t know it just popped into my head and it feels right.” My mother responded, equally as confused as my father.
Before either of them had a chance to realize what had happened the official had the name written and my mom’s signature. After that life was pretty boring.
You are now wondering what the significance of that event is, and why of all the years and stories I had to share I chose that particular moment of my life to start you off with. Well it is the beginning after all, right. The rest of my story wouldn’t have happened without that fateful day.
Nearly thirty years of my life came and went until I truly understood the importance of that day, and the seemingly random post-partum outburst of my mother. It was on a trip with some friends of mine in Northern Montana that set in motion a series of events that would change the meaning of life and death, for me.
We were hiking along a trail through a wooded area that bordered a small river. The trail was very heavily wooded, and looked like it hadn’t been used by humans in several years. We were searching for this exact trail, because it was rumored that the trail led to a pond of perfectly clear water complete with a twenty-five foot waterfall that gave an impeccable chance to do some cliff diving.
Along the way we soon found out why the trial looked so poorly maintained and forgotten. As we bordered the river flowing in a hypnotizing manner directing us toward the heavenly pond we heard the sounds of large animals crashing through the brush. As evening fell the noises became louder. We heard howls and inhuman cries that were so high pitched that I can only describe them as a mix between a screeching bat and the sound of my evil third grade teacher scraping her nails on the chalkboard.
As we ventured further into the forests the cries became louder. Every step we took brought whatever wild beasts that patrolled the forest closer to our group.
“Maybe we should stop and set up camp.” Leslie, my best friend since first grade and wife to the third member of our group Ryan, said with eyes shifting from tree to tree as if expecting a demon to jump out and slay us at any minute.
Leslie’s long and slender frame seemed to shake, and her small skinny fingers trembled as she ran them through her shoulder length strawberry hair. Even in the failing light of dusk I could see the uneasiness in her amber colored eyes.
“There are no clearings nearby, and there is too much brush to build a fire. We could set this whole forest ablaze if we are reckless.” Ryan responded with an air of annoyance at his wife’s timidity.
Ryan was your typical social chameleon. Everybody liked the guy because he made everyone feel like they were welcome. His voice sounded confident, but I could see his just under six foot tall body starting to shrink. Even the shaved hairs on the top of his head stood up as his dark blue eyes scoured the surrounding woods for any sign of danger.
None of us wanted to admit our fear, so we continued on. The sky grew rapidly darker and the rising moon seemed to boost the confidence of whatever creatures stalked us in the darkness. As the sun gave its power to the darkness of night the shrill cries reached an apex of deafening proportions. The whole forest had come to life, and the river, once so hypnotizing, was now a beacon of foreboding doom. Water draws predator and prey in the wild, and the more time we spent on that trail the more I wondered if we were the prey.
I glanced at my watch and saw that it was just after nine-thirty. We had to stop soon, fire or not. We had been walking for almost eight hours straight, and I was beginning to tire. As I returned my attention to the trail around me I saw the trees begin to shift. The brush below the trees began to swell and grow in a supernatural fashion seeming to envelop the trees themselves.
I pulled Ryan close to me and whispered as loud as I could dare or muster, “do those trees look strange to you?”
Ryan followed the line of my finger to fix his gaze on the growing shadows that now seemed to be shifting in our direction.
“No, man, it just looks like some shrubs. Don’t you love how bright the stars are out here? We almost don’t need flashlights.” He answered in a loud and gleeful voice. Again I could see his eyes, which betrayed his lighthearted response. He was at least as nervous as I was.
“Either way” I said, “I think we should stop, my eyes are playing tricks on me.”
I didn’t believe for a minute that my eyes had a problem, but I needed a good excuse to stop. Fortunately we were in an area of the trail that had enough space to lay a single tent. So, we quickly set up the tent and had a wonderful dinner of trail mix and cardboard flavored protein bars.
The tent was a tight fit with scarce space for us to lie on our sides in a triple decker spoon. I had the great fortune of being the smallest spoon, even though I was easily four inches taller than Ryan and outweighed him by at least twenty pounds, with Ryan and Leslie behind me. I became closer friends with Ryan than I have ever imagined I could, or wanted. The small tent may have accommodated our human sandwich, but it did little to offer protection from the myriad of growls and screeches that tore through the chilly night air. In the moments I laid there I thought the only way I would get sleep was if the monsters around us made us their dinner. Eventually I drifted off into a shallow terror filled sleep.
I was awakened abruptly by Leslie’s screaming, which sent my heart into a rib smashing rhythm. I ripped myself out of my sleeping bag and got out of the tent as quickly as I could. I was still in the black cargo pants and dark brown hiking boots I had worn throughout the previous day. We were so hasty to burrow ourselves in the tent that none of changed from our dust and mud covered clothes from the day before. The campsite around me was empty, with no sign of Leslie or Ryan. Off in the distance I heard the uncontrolled scream of Leslie. I took off running in the direction of her voice.
I had barely run thirty feet when I found myself on the edge of a cliff overlooking a small lake. The rising sun was reflecting off the water creating the image of a perfect reflection of the Montana sky. As I stared awestruck at the vista before me I saw a ripple slide across the mirror. Following the ripple to its genesis I saw Leslie and Ryan giggling as their heads bobbed on top of the water.
“Lat! You’re awake!” Leslie called. “Isn’t this place amazing?”
“Dude, you have to jump off that cliff it is exhilarating.” Ryan yelled echoing Leslie’s enthusiasm.
I felt a little ashamed for letting my fear get the best of me, so I stripped down to my Captain America boxers, you know the ones with the big shield on the butt, and jumped into the lake without hesitation.
Ok, so now you’re caught up in the story, but I still haven’t given you any insight into why or what I the significance of the name my mother gave me is. Well, while we were hanging out by the lake Leslie decided to write our names in rocks along the shore.
Leslie and Ryan Cinder + Lat Rommi BFFs
As we sat there admiring the wonderful truth of the stories we had heard about this forest oasis, and Leslie’s handiwork Ryan silently and awkwardly tilted his head to the side.
“Hey Lat, you ever notice that your name backwards spells ‘immortal’?” He asked.
“What?” I responded as I stood up to match his view of the reflection. “Well, waddaya know? I never paid attention to that before. Kinda makes me wonder what my mom was thinking when she named me.”
Unfortunately I wouldn’t have to wait long to find out the answer. As we were sitting enjoying the view and pondering Ryan’s realization a crash came from behind us. What happened next passed so quickly that I still don’t understand it to this day. From what I can remember a chunk of Cliffside chose that very moment to fall loose from the cliff. Without thinking I grabbed Ryan and shoved him into the water. After that all I remember was oppressive darkness and an indescribable numbness.
I knew I was dead. Something primal in my brain told me I was dead. The only feeling I had was a sense of pin and needles radiating up and down my body. I saw not light, and the only sound I heard was a persistent buzzing like a mosquito that plants itself next to your ear while you are sleeping.
Gradually a sensation like a need to breathe began to build in my chest. Have you ever tried holding your breath underwater and got that feeling like your lungs were trying to crawl out of your chest to get to the precious oxygen they need? That is kind of how I felt, almost like I hadn’t taken a breath in a week. I wasn’t far off. Soon light and sound began to tickle the edges of my senses. Suddenly I felt a rush of cold on my spine that made me rocket into a sitting position. At least I tried to, but my progress was quickly halted by a plastic shield that molded around me as I tried to move.
That is the story of how I died the first time, because I was really dead. That “plastic shield” was the cadaver bag the medical examiner stored my remains in after scraping me off the rock. I know you thought we were gearing up for a horror story with some kind of werewolf of something that killed me and my companions and turned us into undead beasts, but fortunately Leslie and Ryan survived with little more than scratches and bruises.
When I finally managed to extricate myself from the dead guy bag, you ever tried to open a bag zipper from the inside? It’s like trying to drink a soda with chopsticks, I found out that I had been pronounced dead by doctors thirty hours earlier. Somehow, I wasn’t dead anymore. To my luck’s credit I was in a morgue that had really bad security and found pictures of the accident scene and what my body looked like when it got to the morgue. The best I can describe without giving you terrible nightmares is that the only distinguishing features of my once human body were two legs and a hand. I was more puddle than human body. But, here I was without a scratch or a scar just a day and a half later.
To me the time had passed in an instant. I wish I had some awesome vision that explained to me why I wasn’t dead while I laid there regenerating, but all I had was a mosquito buzz. To this day I still don’t know why I was chosen to receive this “gift”.
I have died countless numbers of times since that day. For the first little while I didn’t understand what happened so I went through a Bill Murray “Groundhog Day” phase, experimenting with different ways to kill myself. For a time I was convinced that since everyone thought I was dead it didn’t matter if I died over and over again. Overtime, I started having fun with it. I went skydiving without a parachute. I strapped myself to a ships anchor and sunk to the bottom of the ocean. I even dove into a volcano.
After a while of playing with ways to die, I finally decided to hunt down Leslie and Ryan and tell them I wasn’t actually dead. I needed someone to know my secret, and they were the only people I knew of that would understand in some fashion what was happening to me.
Six months had passed since I wandered out of the morgue and ran around killing myself, get it? because I literally killed myself like fifteen times, and trying to figure out why I wasn’t able to die I found myself staring at the front door of Leslie’s house. Time seemed to freeze as I stood there with my hand hovering just a few millimeters from the doorbell. I don’t know how long I imitated a statue, but I finally came to my senses as the door opened in front of me. I panicked, jumping backwards off the porch. Unfortunately, Ryan and Leslie had brown thumbs so there was nothing to hide behind in the front yard. So, I just crouched there in the middle of the gray-green grass and pretended I was invisible.
“Holy crap! What in the heck!” Ryan exclaimed as his blue eyes locked on my obviously visible form.
“What is it Rye?” came Leslie’s voice from behind Ryan. Something was different about her voice. Even from those three words I could tell she had changed. I could hear her darkened heart. The sound of her sadness broke me from my stupor, and I stood up straight to fully face Ryan.
“Ummmm, hi Ryan”, was all I could think of to say. Really, what do you say to someone who watched you die, attended your funeral, and then randomly finds you crouching in their front yard?
As if that wasn’t awkward enough, a moment later Leslie walked out from behind Ryan and saw me standing there looking like a poorly constructed scarecrow. I expected her to scream and faint when she saw me, but true to her nature she did not do what I expected.
Leslie leapt off the steps and charged me. For the third time in five minutes I was frozen, not knowing what to do. She threw her arms out and shoved me to the ground. Then, she started jumping around in circles shouting, “I knew it, I knew it!”
“How is this possible? I mean you, and the rock, and the squishy sound.” Ryan said as he walked over and looked down at me lying in the grass.
“I really don’t know Ryan, I really don’t” I replied, sitting up. “Can we go inside or something before one of the neighbors starts asking questions?”
“Oh, yeah!” replied Leslie, a huge grin spanning her beautiful face. “Come with us to dinner, we were just about to go get steaks down at The Charcoal Pit.”
“I would prefer not…” I started.
“Oh whatever your excuse is, shove it. We need to celebrate. It’s not every day your best friend comes back from the dead.” Ryan said finally coming to himself and absorbing some of his wife’s jubilation.
I couldn’t argue, because I was still trying to figure out what to say to them. So, we piled into their Coyota Tamary sedan and drove to dinner where I explained to them everything that had happened, as far as I understood it.
“One thing bothers me” I said, as I finished my tale, “what did you mean when you said. ‘I knew it’?”
“Well, they told us your remains had disappeared and we had to present your parents with an urn filled with sand from that lake in Montana where you, um, didn’t die.” Leslie explained.
“Yeah, she has been going on about it since they told us you were gone. I never really believed you were dead either, but I didn’t have anything else to believe so I just accepted it.” Ryan said, a look of shame ghosting across his face. “Leslie had one of those creepy movie stalker walls with news articles and pictures of people that dies in weird ways. A couple looked like you, so she was convinced that you were still alive. I have to say I am glad you are alive if only for the fact that I can get rid of that collection. It seriously creeps me out.”
“I gotta say, you two are reacting to this news much better than I ever would have expected.” I told them. “I thought you would freak out, or be angry, or something along those lines.”
“Well, I am sure those feelings will come at some point, but right now we are just overcome with relief and joy.” answered Leslie. “Though, I do have to ask, have you told your parents?”
I hadn’t even thought of my parents. I had other brothers and sisters, so I was just one of the crowd to them. At least, that is how I felt. I saw them a few times a year, you know for the holidays, birthdays, and major sporting events. Actually, now that I think about it, I saw them a lot.
“No, I didn’t think they would really notice.” I answered bowing my head. I didn’t want to look Leslie in the eye. I knew she would have that “know it all” mixed with “you dummy” look on her face.
To my surprise Ryan answered. “What are you talking about? Sal went on and on about who he was going to watch the Stanley Cup with, and who was going to help him survive Thanksgiving with your Mom’s family.”
“Wow” was all I could manage to say. I guess you never really know how you impact people’s lives, do you? They would have to wait until another time, though, I had other business to attend to.
“Listen guys,” I said, before any more parental based emotion could overtake me, “I came to you because I need you to help me figure out what to do with, well whatever you call this condition I have.”
“I would totally call it a gift!” Leslie said, her amber eyes bright with wonder.
“For sure man, you could totally have a lot of fun being like a movie stunt man, or emergency rescue person. You could run into burning buildings, saving damsels in distress and little puppies.” Ryan explained. He looked like a little kid meeting his hero for the first time. I was sure he was going to start giggling at any moment.
We spent the rest of dinner discussing the various options available for me to pursue. I don’t want to bore you with all the tiny details, but by the end of the night Ryan and I had made a decision. Leslie didn’t exactly agree with the decision, but we made it anyway.
For the next few weeks I lived with Ryan and Leslie in their three bedroom house in their cookie cutter neighborhood. All the while Ryan and I spent his free time making a portfolio of my abilities, so that I could pursue my first career as an immortal.
My “gift” was first put to use as a stunt man for big budget Hollywood movies with Ryan as my agent and manger. Have you ever been watching a movie and wondered how the director managed to get the scene of someone being blown up, or decapitated, or ripped limb from limb by vicious mobsters? Well chances are that was me being brutalized for your cinematic enjoyment, and fueling your nightmares.
I remember the first movie I provided the stunt work for. It was a horror flick with all the wonderful gore that accompanies modern horror movies. The first stunt called for the removing of my skin by way of an acid bath. The movie was called “Acid”. I know that is such a clever name. Most of the early feedback had people thinking it was going to be a psychedelic seventies drug movie. Alas, the movie was an over-funded, underacted monstrosity about a man who was dropped into a giant outdoor acid tank at the exact same time as lightning struck the tank. Yeah, it is as wonderful as it sounds.
Anyway, that movie spawned a nice long career of painful dismemberments and even more painful trips through the disgusting and disturbing minds of writers. The unfortunate side of my gift is that, even though I return to life as if I never had a single injury, I got to experience the full joy of the pain of each death. I have to tell you that as nasty as it sounds the acid bath was not the most unpleasant path to dying. Even all the ridiculous ways I thought of to test the limits of my rebirth barely touched some of the ways crazy screenwriters thought of to eliminate their characters.
During one of these movie shoots was when I was introduced to the greatest aspect of my gift that I had no idea I possessed. I had been dying for the satisfaction of audience bloodlust for almost five full years when on the set of the movie “Children of the Greater Demons” when a young girl about nine years old was mortally injured in an onset accident. The scene called for her to sprout demon wings and be carried up into the sky. However, on the way up the rigging holding her broke, and she fell. Her fall was broken as she was impaled by scene prop of a scorched tree truck. The black scarred wood had been shaped into several sharp points to make the background of the scene appear more evil and menacing.
I was the first to make it to the little girl. She was still conscious, somehow, as I knelt by her side. She looked up at me with the most potent look of fear I have ever seen plastered on her innocent face. Her long black hair and dark brown eyes were covered in blood as her hand frantically searched for a way to remove the pain.
Without thinking I put my hands on her fragile body and willed her to live. I wasn’t afraid of my own death, but I was for hers. I couldn’t stand to see her die, couldn’t bear to know that such a young and innocent life had been cut short.
Suddenly, my body was flooded with immense pain. I felt several holes rip through my chest and legs. The warm feeling of fresh blood erupted all over my stomach. I looked down at my body and then the little girl. In my shock I had lifted her off the prop stump. She was still covered in her own blood, but she no longer look full of pain and fear. I looked over her body, and so no holes and no damage. Then I was falling backwards, surrounded by the familiar darkness and buzzing.
In the blink of an eye the darkness disappeared, and I found myself lying in the trailer bed Ryan and I had designed to house me while I recovered after dying. I sat up and looked at my surroundings. The trailer was as it usually appeared, with a tiny couch in front of a TV that was much too large for the space. Beyond that was a tiny kitchen with a mini-fridge and hot plate. The windows all had blinds and curtains drawn letting in very little natural light. On the couch lay Ryan alit by the glow from the TV. As I stood up from the bed I turned and closed the hatch that concealed my body while I slept, making the area look like little more than a bench for guests to sit on.
“Ryan, Ryan!” I called trying to rouse him from his slumber.
“Huh? Oh you’re awake” he responded while rubbing the sleep from his bloodshot eyes.
“What happened man? How did I die? I don’t remember any stunts. I just remember a little girl falling onto that log.” I questioned him, confusion blatant in my tone.
“I don’t know for sure. Leslie is trying to put the pieces together still. As far as we can tell you caught that little girl and fell on the prop.”
“No, that’s not how it happened at all. When I found her she was dying on that prop. I remember seeing her body and then grabbing her. Next thing I know I’m dead asleep, and waking up here.” I explain trying to make sense of what Ryan had told me.
“No dude, when they found you you were dead on the ground and the girl was sitting beside you unharmed. Though, your story does explain the holes in the back of her costume.”
“What do you mean?”
“The girl’s gown had large holes in it that matched the holes in your body, but your clothes had no holes at all.”
As the information settled in my rattled brain the door to the trailer opened and Leslie walked in. “Oh good you’re up” she said looking at both Ryan and I. “You may have a weird life, but at least you are consistent with the whole thirty hours thing. Did Ryan tell you anything about what has been going on?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t make much sense. The girl was almost dead when I got to her, but he told me I died and she has no injuries. Oh, but her costume is torn like my injuries, but my clothes had no punctures.”
“Yup, that’s about the whole of what we know. Well except the part where she was the one who was dying. We just assumed you fell on the stump catching Sandy.” Leslie explained.
“So her name is Sandy, huh. Glad to have a name to accompany the mystery. Do you guys have any possible explanation?” I responded to Leslie’s explanation with a distracted tone to my voice. You would have been distracted too if something weird happened to you like this. Which is really saying something, because my whole life is cornucopia of weird.
“What if, and this is just spit balling, part of your power is the ability to take death away from people?” Ryan asked using his kid meeting a super hero voice again.
“That is about as reasonable as anything else we have thought of.” Leslie said looking at her husband with a mix of excitement and pondering. “We need to find a way to test this, but where can we go to test it?”
“Well, there are loads of kids in the hospital that are dying from one thing or another. Let’s go down there, and visit them.” Ryan responded. The two of them were talking about me like I was a lab rat.
“Whoa, hold on. Most of those kids are dying in horribly painful ways. You realize that even though I come back I still feel all the pain of the death.” I replied with more than a little annoyance. “Don’t be so quick to sell me out to a painful death.”
“Oh quit being such a baby, you’re gonna die and then it will be like it never happened.” Ryan said.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to go through it!”
“Lat, calm down.” Leslie cut in. Which by the way telling someone to calm down never, ever actually helps them calm down. It’s a good thing she didn’t stop there. “You have died in the most gut wrenching, disturbing, and painful ways that the best writers in cinema can come up with. At least if this works you will be saving the life of an innocent kid instead just collecting a paycheck and giving me nightmares.”
Now, I’m going to pause and give you a little advise; if you are ever arguing about whether or not to do something don’t argue with the girl who has known you since you were six, and has the weapon of mass destruction equivalent to winning arguments.
Needless to say, Leslie’s little speech convinced me to try to see if I could save some poor kid from a brutal death. So, after laying low for a couple days, which is our standard procedure after an unexpected death. We went to the closest children’s hospital and enquired about the most terminally ill children. I was wholly unprepared for the experience of meeting terminally ill kids.
Imagine seeing every puppy in the world being squished by elephants while simultaneously watching every teddy bear in the world being fed through a wood chipper. Got that image? Well multiply that by one million, and you will begin to understand what it is like to walk into a room full of dying kids.
At our request, the nurse led us to the bed of a seven year old boy dying of some hundred letter disease that caused his heart and lungs to reject the presence of oxygen. I had no idea how he was even still living, but he was, though not for long. The kids name was Sammy. He couldn’t tell us himself, because he couldn’t talk, but we read it on his name card that was decorated with dinosaurs playing basketball.
“Go ahead and try it. Do what you did with Sandy.” Leslie urged while fighting back the deluge of tears that was threatening to break free from her eyes.
“Ok, here goes nothing.” I said trying my best to be brave, and turn to run away.
Words can’t describe what happened next, but I will try anyway. I placed my hands on Sammy’s chest and willed with all of my heart for him to live. I was filled with the sudden warmth I had felt with Sandy, and then suddenly my chest exploded with fire. I tried to breathe, but every breath increased the fire. I collapsed to the ground, scratching and pounding at my chest to put out the fire. I tried to scream in pain but there was no air to give life to my scream. I felt my eyes bulge as I frantically searched for Ryan and Leslie. I wanted help, I had never felt pain like this before. Never could I have imagined pain like that, but it was happening, and the last thing I remember before the darkness overtook me was a longing to go back to the deaths the writers created for me.
Another thirty hours later I awoke in my trailer with Ryan and Leslie looking over me. This time, though they were not alone. Behind them stood three people; Sammy and his parents.
“Mr. Rommi. We can’t thank you enough for what you did for our Sammy. You gave him a second chance at life.” Was the jist of the next two ours of conversation with Sammy and his family.
I learned that he recovered immediately that day, as I lay on the floor dying. His body showed no signs of the disease and he walked out of the hospital that very night.
“So, Mrs. Hernandez, I have told you everything about me that you need to know. Maria is going to die, but I can change that. I can save her life, only if you let me.” I say to Gloria Hernandez as I finish telling her my story as we sit next to the bed of her dying daughter.
“How is this possible? How can you save her?” she replies still unsure if I am telling her the truth, or if I am just crazy.
“Mrs. Hernandez” Leslie cuts in, always there to support me, “we still don’t know how it works, but it does. We’ve managed to save almost forty kids just like Maria. Your daughter is only five years old, and deserves to live. Please let Lat help her.”
“Okay, okay” Gloria says looking at her daughter tears pouring down her tan cheeks. Her deep brown eyes expressing more than her words could manage.
“I have just one requirement. “ I tell her as I place my hands on Maria’s tiny, cancer plagued body, “you tell no one about what happened here. As far you are concerned this is a miracle from whatever god you worship.”
Gloria nods her head, and I will Maria to live. Warmth floods through me. Pain assails all my senses, but I smile as the darkness overtakes me and the buzzing fills my ears; knowing that another beautiful child will live thanks to my curse.
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