Slowly I began to realize that I had died and that I was at my own funeral. All my family was present at the funeral which was being held in a white room in Portsmouth, Ohio.

Even though I was dead, I was still able to stand and walk around among the people. As I mingled with them, I even decided to stand on my head for a while in the middle of the room in front of everybody. I placed my head on the floor and raised my feet up into the air. After staying in the head-stand a short while, I lowered my feet to the ground and stood back up straight.

Someone had brought in a plastic sack containing flowers.

I picked up the sack, looked inside, and saw five or six spiders which had fallen out of the flowers and were lying in the bottom of the sack.

Four or five cute little frogs and one large frog which was making an interesting squeaking noise were also in the sack. It looked as if the frogs might be suffering from lack of air in the sack. Concerned that the frogs might suffocate, I picked up a pin and began sticking holes in the sack to let in air.

While I was poking the holes, my sister walked up to me and said that her mother-in-law wanted the frogs and that her mother-in-law trapped frogs so they could be eaten or sold. Indignant at the thought that my sister and her mother-in-law wanted to eat or sell these frogs, I was determined I wouldn't let them have the frogs. I would prefer to turn the frogs loose in my mother's back yard.

Lying on my back, I began wondering what would happen to me now that I was dead. Would I go to heaven or hell? I really hadn't done anything in my life to merit going to heaven. If I had lived longer, I might have been able to accomplish something. I was only about 40 years old and I hadn't had enough time to do what I was supposed to do with my life. If I wanted to make it to heaven, I needed to live a lot longer. I thought grimly, "I might be going to hell." The thought was alarming, but there was little I could do about it now that I was dead.

As I looked up at the white ceiling above me, I could hear a rumbling sound which I identified as God. Suddenly, in a flash, I realized I wasn't actually dead – it had all been a mistake; everyone just thought I was dead. I continued listening to the low mumbling, thundering sound. Although there were no words, I understood exactly what God was saying. God said expressively, "You must dedicate your life to me." At once I knew if I were going to continue to live, I must dedicate my life to God.

I stood up in the middle of the room. My mother was standing right in front of me. Since I realized it was time to tell everyone that I wasn't dead, I raised my arms straight out from my body. I thought to myself that I could even act as if there were holes in the palms of my hands and cause my hands to bleed; but I didn't want to do that.

As I stood there, everyone gradually began to realize I wasn't dead. I couldn't tell what the people thought, but slowly everyone began to leave. My sister and her in-laws walked outside. The in-laws boarded an old green car which sat close to the ground. Other people also boarded their cars and pulled away.

I had traveled to an area a couple hundred kilometers or more south of Mexico City. I had been traveling over uninteresting highways, but now I had finally reached my destination – a small village tucked away in a scenic area off the highway. I was walking, and as soon as I turned off the highway unto a small road surrounded with dense vegetation, I could feel the difference. The surroundings were lush and primitive, just what I wanted. By the time I made it to the streets of the village, I had decided I would probably stay for about a week, and I hoped to come back on a regular basis. The first thing I needed right now was a place to spend the night.

As I walked past small adobe houses, I hoped to see a sign advertising "Room for Rent," but I quickly reached the end of the street without seeing anything. On both sides ahead of me rose tall mountains. Only now did I notice that the village extended into the valley between the mountains, and that the part of the village in the valley looked much larger and appeared to have some buildings larger than those around me now. I saw a path which looked like a short-cut - off the little road I was treading - to the main part of the village and when a woman walked down the path, I followed her.

Following the woman, I gradually realized we were walking through the white hallways of a large building. The present hallway led through one room after the other, most of which contained beds. I thought the intrusive hallway left little privacy for the people in the rooms, although no one was in any of the beds at the moment. As the woman and I continued walking, I began thinking that these rooms might be for rent and that I might be able to rent one for myself tonight. The rooms, however, were sparsely furnished, and with the lack of privacy, they didn't much appeal to me. I would only take one if nothing better were available. At one point the hallway branched into two directions, one branch going down some steps lower than the other branch. The woman took the lower branch and I took the upper one. I continued on my way alone through the labyrinth trying to find my way out.

Again I found myself walking down a small road surrounded by jungle. I looked back and saw that I had exited the large white building where the many rooms had been. I didn't have a good feeling about that building, and I thought I would only return there if necessary. Ahead of me lay the rest of the village, where I hoped to have better luck. Meanwhile, I noticed the sound of the jungle all around me, especially the parrots in the trees overhead, and I was thrilled at the feeling of being where I was.

I was carrying a back pack on my back, and I thought I also had a sleeping bag. If necessary I could sleep out on the ground, although that thought didn't really appeal to me, especially since there seemed to be large numbers of insects in the area. In my right hand I was carrying a sledge hammer, using it as a walking cane, with the hammer part in my hand. I also noticed I wasn't wearing any shoes, but only socks, a fact which bothered me, because I was concerned about what someone might think when I went inside to rent a room. I didn't know how I would explain my shoeless feet and I knew I needed to buy some nice white tennis shoes as soon as possible. Otherwise, I didn't feel any discomfort from being without shoes.

As I approached the main part of the village, I could see what looked like a warehouse nearby. Through the large open doors of the warehouse I could see men working inside. I also slowly realized that large machines were quickly filling bags with potatoes. Ears of corn were also apparently being bagged. The potatoes would fall down from the machines above into the bags below. I was impressed by how fast the bags were being filled.

Watching the enterprise, I soon began thinking I might be able to use what I was seeing to my advantage. I recalled that the Mexican peso had recently been devalued by 30%, which meant that goods could be bought more cheaply in Mexico. If I, for example, were to buy truckloads of potatoes and haul them to the United States, I should be able to make a handy profit.

The idea intrigued me. I would need to become acquainted with the people in Mexico and establish business relationships. I would then need to find a market for the potatoes in the United States. I realized this village was a long haul from the United States, but if I were going to be traveling to the village anyway, I might as well make a profit at it. I would need a truck and I might have to borrow money to buy one. I didn't think borrowing the money would be difficult, and I began imagining the interview where I would seek the funds. The interviewer, a man dressed in a brown suit, would ask me about myself. I would tell him that I was a lawyer and that I loved the law. I would explain that I wanted to use some of my other skills, such as my knowledge of Spanish. I thought I would get the loan.

When I reached the main part of the village, I was driving my 1985 red BMW. I was slightly disconcerted by being in the car, because I knew I would need a place to park, something with which I hadn't been concerned when I had been walking. I drove past several large buildings, but I didn't see anything which looked like a hotel. Finally, ahead of me on my left, I saw a five or six story building with a hotel sign on it. The building - constructed of brick and probably 50-100 years old - appeared to have been elegant at one time, and I wondered if it had been well maintained inside.

Close to the building was a brick church of an elaborate architectural design. The church had several intricate spires and arches, and might have had writing on it. I thought that the church was quite peculiar and that it might not even be a Christian church. The church made me want to stay in this village and get to know the people more than ever.

I parked the car and stepped out. I was still only wearing socks and I was still concerned by what someone might think. I headed for the building with the hotel sign, wondering how much a room would cost. I thought the room would probably cost about $30 (more than I wanted to spend), but if the hotel were a good one, it would be worth it. When I started to walk into the building, however, I suddenly realized that the first floor of the building had been converted into a hardware store and wasn't a hotel at all. I backed up and looked at the face of the hotel again. I now saw a second sign which said "tercero piso" which apparently meant that the hotel was on the third floor. Also on the sign was a picture of a man pointing to a second entrance. When I looked at the second entrance, I thought I saw a man going through it, so I walked over to it.

When I reached the second entrance, I was immediately surprised. The door was small – only about 20 centimeters wide and 60 centimeters tall. I could see large stone steps inside which led upwards.

I also noticed that spider webs were covering the entrance. The spider webs surprised me since I thought I had just seen someone go through the door. I couldn't figure how a spider could have made a web so fast after that last person had passed through. After I picked up a stick and began tearing down the well formed web, the webbing of which led to the center of the web, I thought I saw a yellow spider scurrying across the web.

As I scraped off the webbing from the stick on a rock next to me, large black ants suddenly appeared and ran up to the web which hang from my stick. Obviously the ants wanted to eat the spider, although I didn't think I had actually captured the spider in the web on my stick. It looked as if the ants weren't interested in eating the web, although I wasn't sure of that. As I scraped the last of the web off the stick, a large brown roach about five centimeters long ran up and bit my left index finger.

I took the stick and pressed it down on the roach to kill it, but to my chagrin, the body of the roach came off, leaving its head attached to my finger. I tried to pull off the head, but it didn't want to come off at first. Finally I did manage to pull the head of the roach off my finger.

As I prepared to pass through the little doorway, I was concerned that my back pack wouldn't fit. My back pack, however, was the least of my worries – my head wouldn't even fit through the doorway. This was indeed a dilemma. How did the hotel hope to have people enter when the doorway was so small?

I backed up, looked again, and saw yet another normal-sized door through which I walked and found myself in a basement pilled full of junk. I headed toward another door at the rear of the basement, hoping that it would lead to the stairs of the hotel.

Some men and I had sat down to play poker in a shabby little room not far from where I lived. I had previously heard that these men gambled in this room, although this was the first time I had ever joined them. Even this time I didn't actually play and no sooner had we anted up, than we decided to quit. Everyone began taking their ante money back out of the pot. I had originally anted up a dollar by placing a ten dollar bill in the pot and taking out a five and four ones. Now I had to count the five and four ones back out so I could retrieve my ten dollar bill. The counting was tedious and I almost made a mistake and put in a five and five ones. Finally I counted out the right amount and took out my ten again. I was uncertain I would ever return to play with these men again.

As we were breaking up, the subject of the illegality of gambling arose. I mentioned that the degree of the crime depended on the amount of money which was being gambled. If the amount was low enough, the crime might only be a "class C misdemeanor," which carried a fine of only $20. However for larger amounts, a person might be arrested and sent to jail.

As we further discussed gambling, one man mentioned the horse races. I had never been to the horse races or bet any money on horses. However, I tended to think horse races were somewhat like the stock market, and I did have experience in that field. Just recently I had received my tax forms from my stock broker for the previous year with the list of stocks which I had bought and sold. I wondered what these men would think if I told them that I had bought over ten million dollars worth of stock last year. Of course the ten million dollars figure had been a result of my buying and selling stock over and over, and the figure didn't mean I actually had ten million dollars or anywhere near that amount. Although I thought these men would be impressed to hear that I had been so involved in the stock market, I didn't say anything since I thought it best that these men not know any more about my business than necessary.

One man, continuing to discuss the horse races, and stated that wealthy men sometimes bet on long shots at the races. These rich men would follow the news on horses which had heavy odds against them. Sometimes those horses would be taken to different tracks from where they normally ran, and at the new tracks, the horses would have a better chance of winning, so the wealthy men would take a chance and bet on the horses. According to the man talking, these bets sometimes paid off big.

As I tried to follow what the man was saying, I wondered how the odds were determined at horse races. I knew the odds for a particular horse sometimes changed, but I didn't understand the mechanics of those changes. I thought once a betting ticket was purchased, however, the odds for that particular ticket couldn't be altered.

Still concentrating on the odds-making process of horse racing, I found myself in the corridors of the race tracks in the area where the bets were placed. All the betting windows were closed and wouldn't open for another hour. My father had brought me there in his car and had dropped me off and I expected him to return for me later. Meanwhile I decided to walk around and look over the place more carefully.

From where I was, I couldn't see the track. The area where I was walking was similar to the enclosed concrete corridors and walkways behind the seats in the bleachers of circular sports arenas. Since the races wouldn't begin for another hour, I was the only person walking through the corridors at the moment and it looked as if no one else had walked there in a while.

I even encountered an intricate spider web stretched across the corridor. As I slipped by the side of the web, hoping not to knock it down, I realized I had pulled a strand of the web onto me, and that the spider was attached to this particular strand. I clearly saw the spider's bright yellow body and jet-black legs. I tried to knock the spider from me without injuring it, and after several attempts, I was able to swat the spider back onto its web.

When I stopped for a moment to look more closely at the web, I was surprised that the spider had caught several other insects, a couple of which were much larger than the spider. One captured bug looked like a large black tarantula and the smaller yellow spider appeared to be sucking the juice out of the larger ensnared tarantula — a somewhat grizzly sight. As I turned and walked on down the corridor — the sight of the ensnared insects still vivid in my mind — I thought about how all the work of the spider, and probably even the spider itself, would soon be destroyed when the mobs arrived for the horse races and began tramping through the corridor.

I continued walking until I exited the stadium unto a path which appeared to wind around the edifice. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the racetrack had been built on the shore of an immense body of water which stretched off and disappeared into the horizon. I continued walking along the path, which followed the shoreline, with the coliseum-sized racetracks on one side of me and the water on the other. The shore was lined with tree-stumps. The trunks of large trees which had probably been cut down to allow for a view of the water lay partially submerged along the bank. I identified the trees as cypress and I thought it a shame that they had been cut.

A small inlet interrupted the shoreline, but a narrow path lay across the watery mouth of the inlet to the shoreline on the other side. I decided to continue on the path across inlet and I stepped out onto the narrow path. At first I thought the path through the water was simply dirt which had been piled up, but I quickly concluded the path was actually the living trunk of a tree which was growing horizontally on the surface of the water. It looked as if after the trees had been chopped down along the shoreline, some of the trees had been able to continue living by spreading their trunks out along the top of the water.

I had only taken a few steps when I slipped into the water. Luckily the water wasn't even knee-deep, and the only damage was that my brown shoes and the bottom of my pants were soaked. I quickly scrambled back onto the shore and decided to abandon the narrow path.

No sooner had I returned to the shore than I noticed some rocks seemed to be falling down from above. I looked up over-head; I was standing at the base of a tall rocky cliff which stretched all along the shoreline. The stadium was now completely out of sight, apparently somewhere back behind the cliff. I thought if I would simply follow the shoreline, however, it would lead me back to the stadium. The difficulty was that the rocks from above seemed to be falling with increasing intensity and frequency. I had to huddle close to the rock face to avoid being struck by the gray rocks.

The worst was yet to come. As I looked high above me, I could see enormous boulders, several meters in diameter, teetering atop the edge of the cliff, ready to tumble down. I couldn't understand what was causing the boulders to dislodge — perhaps an earthquake. Whatever the reason, I was clearly in grave danger. When I saw the first of the larger boulders come crashing down the side of the cliff, I pressed against the edge of the cliff, pulling myself under a small overhang. The boulder crashed past me without hitting me. Then another boulder followed, and then another. Each time I braced myself under the shelter of the overhang, desperately trying to position myself so I wouldn't be struck by the ponderous rocks. Gradually the area around me began to pile up, creating a new look for the entire shoreline.

When it appeared that all the boulders had been dislodged and had fallen, I dared to begin moving again. Now I only had one objective — to get back to the stadium. I had the uneasy feeling that my father had already come and gone, and that he had simply abandoned me there. I couldn't understand why he would have done such a thing and I was uncertain what I would do when I reached the stadium, but I would worry about that later.

As I trudged away from the shoreline, the going was difficult. The terrain consisted of brown porous-looking rocks, the kind found around a volcano. This rock, however, had a spongy feel to it – sometimes when I would step on it, I would seem to sink down a bit. The landscape was cris-crossed with desolate ravines and gullies which stretched on without end. I could only guess at the direction of the stadium, and I aimed my feet accordingly.

Suddenly I saw a hopeful sight — two other people, a man and a woman, were also trudging through the desolation. They were rather far away, and I had to holler to get their attention. They saw me and hollered back. I had the feeling that they were also lost and trying to find the stadium. I thought perhaps we could team up and help each other.