That evening, after Rexanne left, Cassie took a long, soothing shower and slipped into her favorite comfy clothes. She crossed the adjoining porches and entered the Main House, relishing the quiet with Jake still away.

Grateful for Jake’s generosity, she appreciated the guesthouse’s TVs, but nothing compared to the 66-inch curved-glass widescreen in the basement theater room. Outfitted with flush-mounted surround sound speakers and a booming soundbar, it promised a thrilling experience she couldn’t wait to enjoy.

For dinner, she kept it simple: scrambled eggs with melted cheese, a toasted English muffin slathered in butter and jelly, and a large mug of steaming coffee with French vanilla creamer. Balancing it all on a TV tray, she made her way downstairs.

Setting her tray on the side table, she grabbed the remote and clicked. As a news story flickered to life, she watched with a growing sense of alarm.

“… an American country music singer, television host, actor, and businessman. Known for creating a sausage brand and being the face of its TV commercials, his voice will be remembered for years to come.” Cassie wondered who had passed away. “Jimmy Dean. Dead at age 81.”

Cassie flipped channels to learn more about how or why he died. She caught the tail end of another network’s coverage: A woman’s weak voice recounted, “He had no health issues, so his sudden death is shocking. He was eating dinner while watching television, when I left the room. When I came back … well …”, his wife’s voice fading off, as she broke into tears.

That’s horrible, Cassie thought. “What’s today’s date?” she asked aloud, locating the digital calendar on the fireplace mantel. June 13th, she replied to herself. Boy, this year is flying!

Alright, lazy. Time to get moving! Cassie told herself, grabbing the tape recorder Rexanne had left on the coffee table earlier. Time is of the essence. Every minute counts.

For the next three hours, Cassie recorded everything she could remember about the Sharing sessions she’d been ‘gifted,’ as she liked to say about receiving them from Vimh. The recordings filled up two one-hour cassette tapes. A trash can nearby was already full of used tissues, a testament to the emotional toll the process had taken on her.

She quickly tidied up the room, double-checked for anything she might have missed, and then headed upstairs with her TV tray. The cassettes clinked together in her pants pocket as she climbed the stairs.

She had just wiper her hands on a towel, after washing her dishes, when the phone rang. It was Jake, calling from Grand Forks. “How are things in North Dakota,” she asked, making light conversation.

“Flat as an ironing board, and ground black as coal. It’s also hot,” he added. “Damn global warming.” They spoke for only another minute or so. He had just called to check in on her and to let her know he would delayed another few days. “Check the water in the ATV batteries. Summer dries them out,” he instructed.

It had been a long day, a very harrowing one at that. Cassie gingerly poked the crown of her skull and felt a warm, protruding bulge. A good night’s sleep might help, she thought to herself.

Lying in bed, her head sunk deep in her pillow, Cassie felt the weight of the day pressing down on her, a reminder of the harrowing moment when she had fallen against the unforgiving rock. Her head ached, a testament to her narrow escape.

As she closed her eyes, the memory of the fall flickered in her mind, but the exhaustion soon washed over her like a wave, pulling her deeper into the comforting embrace of sleep.

As she lay back, she couldn’t help but wonder if her recording had captured the essence of her dream or if it was just a muddled echo of her shaken spirit, lost between sleep and wakefulness. “Did I get it right, Vimh?” she whispered with her last conscious breaths. Slowly, her breathing steadied, setting a quiet rhythm that filled the night.

Bright sunlight sliced through the thin curtain, which danced in the morning breeze, casting flickering patterns of light and shadow across Cassie’s forehead. As it poured in through the window above her bed like a golden brush, it awakened Cassie to the world once again. This time, with an urgent promise of the day ahead.

Just as she opened her eyes, the radio alarm shattered the silence, filling the room with music. Christopher Cross’s voice enveloped her, soothing yet insistent, as if answering her prior night’s question: “I know what’s on your mind, and I know it gets tough sometimes. But you can give it one more try. Find a reason why you should pick it up and try it again. ‘Cause it’s all right…”

As his words settled in, the prior night’s question crept back into her thoughts, gnawing at her. Is Vimh answering me? she wondered, her heart racing. Had she captured the truth in her recording?

“And you, miss?”

“I’ll have the Hen House, over easy. Bacon, please. And I want both the English muffin and the Peasant Potatoes.” The waitress smiled, her pen flying across the notepad.

“I’m hungry today,” Cassie added, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. The waitress nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes, as if she understood the appetite that came after a long night.

“So?” Rexanne leaned in, her excitement palpable as she prepared her coffee with three packets of sugar and two single-serve creamers. She stirred with such fervor that droplets splattered onto the tabletop. “Did you record your dream?”

Without answering, Rexanne reached into her purse beside her on the bench. Sliding a sealed envelope across the table, she said, “Here they are, sis,” a term of endearment she reserved for her closest friend—or at least her closest female friend.

“Wow. You actually did it.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Can I listen to it?”

“Of course! You… of all people. Absolutely!”

“I can’t wait!” Rexanne exclaimed, tucking the envelope into her purse with barely contained enthusiasm.

Once their breakfast arrived, Rexanne turned to Cassie, her voice filled with excitement. “I’ve been thinking about resurrecting the Soul of America team.”

“Resurrecting? I thought you still met,” Cassie said, a frown creasing her brow.

“Oh, we do,” Rexanne replied, forking a piece of potato into her mouth. “Which you’d know if you hadn’t stopped coming.”

“I know,” Cassie began, her voice tinged with regret.

“It’s okay, Cass. I was just teasing. Between your trips to Golden twice a week and all that transcription work…” She trailed off, taking a sip of her coffee. “I get it. Really! How do they say now, bandwidth?”

“So, why resurrect?” Cassie pressed, curiosity piqued.

“Well, maybe ‘reignite’ is a better word.” Rexanne paused, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I mean, we meet, but it’s been… a year and half now. You can only discuss Soul of America so much.”

Uneasy, Cassie hesitated before asking, “So, what are you driving at?”

“Well,” Rexanne began, her fingers nervously toying with the edge of her coffee cup. Her bright eyes sparkled with anticipation as she chose her words carefully. “The more I hear you talk about what you and Dr. Newton are uncovering in these Sharings…”

“Yeah?” Cassie leaned in, her long hair framing her face, intrigue sparking in her blue-gray eyes.

“… the more I believe this is what you were meant to do, sweetie.” Rexanne took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering and sincere. “But I don’t think they want you to keep it all to yourself.”

“Funny you should say that,” Cassie replied, a hint of surprise coloring her tone. “Jake mentioned almost the same thing.”

“So, what do you have in mind, if I may ask?” Cassie urged, her curiosity palpable.

“How would you feel about enlisting their help with your transcriptions? That’s just a starting point.” Rexanne observed her closely, her enthusiasm barely contained.

Cassie hesitated, slowly biting into a crispy piece of bacon. “Go on.”

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to listen to the tapes first,” Rexanne said, letting the idea hang in the air. “And then…”

“Then what,” Cassie snapped.

Taking a deep breath, Rexanne proceeded. “Then … I’d want your permission for the group to hear them, too.”

Cassie’s reaction was swift. “Wait! You wanted them to help with transcriptions, which I’d really appreciate. But now you’re suggesting something entirely different.”

“I know, I know, Cassie. Look – you told me about Jake’s theory. How those Minutes Numbers might show that certain Sharings are connected. Right?”

“I don’t know,” Cassie said, her brow furrowing. But Rexanne could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Maybe more heads are better than one,” Cassie reasoned.

“So, you’ll do it?” Rexanne’s excitement bubbled over, her face lighting up.

“Do what, exactly?” Cassie asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice.

“Speak to the group, Cassie. After two hours of spiritual secrets bellowing from a tape player, don’t you think they’d love to hear directly from you?” Rexanne’s smile was infectious, brightening her already animated features.

“Speak to the group? Public speaking?” Cassie’s hesitation was evident, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. “I can’t talk in front of a bunch of people.”

“They’re not just a bunch of people. They’re your friends. You know each one of them, and they’ve missed you.” Rexanne took another bite, her enthusiasm unwavering. “Will you at least think about it over the next day or two while I listen to your tapes?”

When Cassie didn’t immediately respond, Rexanne reached out and gently touched her wrist. Their eyes met, and after a moment, bolstered by Rexanne’s irresistible smile, Cassie slowly nodded her approval.

“You’ll do just fine.” Rexanne widened her smile, and her eyes joined in the assurance. “I promise.”

What Rexanne did not also say – did not dare to say – was that, if the group decided to move forward with these projects, they would insist, even expect, Cassie to return to the group.

And not just as a casual observer, but as it’s new leader. Rexanne was well prepared to hand over the reigns, the gavel, or whatever the correct metaphor.

Rexanne welcomed each group member as they arrived at the door, her smile warm and inviting. Jake had graciously offered his home for this, the 18^th gathering of the Soul of America group. In total, there were fourteen attendees, including Cassie and Jake.

After their customary opening – a blend of music, silence, and meditation – Rexanne took charge, her energy filling the room. When she called out to Cassie in the back row, the entire group rose to their feet, erupting into a heartfelt ovation. Even Jake stood, his awkwardness at remaining seated compelling him to join in the applause.

The group had been eagerly anticipating this gathering for far longer than Cassie could have imagined. For over a year, unbeknownst to Cassie, Rexanne had been updating the members on the steady progress being made by Cassie with Dr. Newton.

Without betraying any confidences, Rexanne had gradually shared the spiritual revelations Cassie was discovering during her Sharings, painting a picture – albeit one filled with caping holes – that left everyone intrigued.

And now, tonight, they were about to listen to a two-hour recording featuring none other than Cassie herself! But that was only part of their excitement.

The other reason was Rexanne’s teasing mention, over the prior 24 hours, of two unfamiliar words: Harmony Points. Rexanne had promised the group they wouldn’t be disappointed, and the anticipation in the air was almost tangible.

For the next two hours, every person in the room sat entranced, as they listened to Cassie describing the Game of Life. Strangely, when Rexanne called for a fifteen-minute bathroom break after the first tape, not a single word was spoken. Each individual was lost in their own thoughts, contemplating the profound insights they had just heard.

As the second tape came to a close, Rexanne returned to the front while Jake pressed the STOP button on the player. An overwhelming wave of emotion filled the room, almost impossible to describe. One by one, each member approached Cassie, enveloping her in long, heartfelt hugs that conveyed the deepest feeling of love.

What happened next was a surprise, even for Rexanne, who had played a major role in building up the excitement around Cassie’s discoveries. The unexpected twist happened naturally, just after Rexanne had made a few comments when the group returned from their second break.

“And now,” she began, “you can see why I’ve been so amazed by everything Cassie has shared with me over the last year or more. And,” she paused, locking eyes with Cassie, “with everything I’ve shared with this group.” Cassie’s face showed her surprise.

“The question we need to ask ourselves, my friends, is this: Do we want to support Cassie on her journey? And if so, how?” Rexanne waited as the enthusiastic cheers that filled the room slowly died down. “But – but, before you answer, maybe we should hear a few words from Cassie herself.’ Without waiting, she turned toward her friend. “Cassie?”

“Well, for starters… it’s really good to be back with all of you.” Cassie smiled, waiting for the cheers to fade. “Thank you, really. But…” She hesitated, the silence stretching uncomfortably, as if she was debating whether to stay or bolt from the room.

“But… I’m just like you. You’ve just heard some foreign concepts, some confusing terms. Right? Well, that’s how it’s been for me, too. For the last nine months. Do I understand it all?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “I don’t either. I’m just like you—curious, but confused. Excited, yet terrified.”

“What are your plans, Cassie?” someone shouted from the audience. She stood there, unsure of what to say.

“I suppose…” She caught herself. “No, I don’t know. For now, I’ll just keep going with the Dr. Newton sessions until they finish.” A thought flickered in her mind—remembering when Jake had once asked how she’d even know when the end had been reached.

Cassie stood alone at the front, her uncertainty most conspicuous. Just then, a soft voice broke through. “Maybe you could summarize, as briefly as possible, where things stand?” She turned toward Jake, silently thanking him with her eyes.

“Well, let’s see. I started with Dr. Newton last September. We’ve met twice a week, every week. Each session has been recorded. And each time, I spoke directly with my Soul, Vimh.” She glanced around, half-expecting skeptical faces but found none.

“Each session revealed something significant, though I didn’t always know it at the time. Sometimes, it took weeks or even months for the importance to sink in. Now, after more than 80 sessions, it’s like a puzzle coming together.”

She turned to Rexanne. “Do they know about the Minutes Mystery and where it led?”

“Yes, we know!” someone shouted, and the room erupted in laughter.

“Well then—you know that those First Letters spelled out a message. A message that, as of this hour, remains incomplete.”

“Yes, we know,” Rexanne confirmed.

“Then just to remind us, here’s what the message says so far: ‘Once Americans understand the Harmony Points, they will realize the promise of the Spiritual Ameri—’” Cassie stopped short.

“And that’s where we are,” Jake cut in, his voice startling everyone who thought he’d been dozing off in the corner.

Cassie stood frozen, unsure what to do next. “So, that’s it. I plan to continue with the Dr. Newton sessions and, hopefully, receive the remainder of the message.”

Jake stood up and approached her. “That’s not it,” he said gently. She looked at him, unsure, as he gestured for her to sit. She nodded and took a seat.

“Folks, Cassie may not be a public speaker, but I’ve never met a microphone or a stage I didn’t like,” Jake joked, earning a few chuckles. “Here’s the thing—I believe I speak for Rexanne as well—it’s clear that Cassie has been chosen to receive insights from … well, somewhere beyond what we understand.

“Personally, I’m still not sure how I feel about God or the Afterlife.” He looked around the room. “But I know I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Amen to that!” Rexanne blurted out. “Cassie has uncovered far too many ‘coincidences’ for this to be just her imagination.”

“And even if it is,” Jake continued, “where does that imagination come from? We all have the same organs, the same brains, and yet some people have this kind of imagination, and some don’t. Where does that come from?” Jake was on a roll.

“I never knew you were so philosophical,” teased Ralph, one of Jake’s friends. “Pretty deep for a red hat.”

“Maybe,” Jake shot back, “but how do you explain it, smartass?”

“Language!” called out the group’s moderator.

“Sorry,” he said, glancing at Seattle. “As I see it,” he continued, “there are two big ideas we’re dealing with. One is that everything we know as life is … a game. The Game of Life.”

Rexanne jumped in. “And the Game of Life mentions other unfamiliar term, like Harmony Points, Spiritual Equilibrium, Ten Graces. We don’t know what that means yet, but they’re clearly important.”

Shira, seated in the front row, stood up and faced the group. “I say we join the search. Let’s help Cassie dig for the truths she’s been tasked with uncovering.” She paused, her words hanging in the air. “Well? Are you in? I sure am.”

“Me too!” declared Pierre and Olivia at the same time. Within moments, the entire room was on its feet, cheering and raising their hands.

Rexanne signaled for everyone to sit back down. “I’ve got a crazy idea. If Cassie’s open to our help…” She glanced at Cassie, who nodded firmly. “I think we should end the Soul of America group, officially, and give ourselves a new name, one that fits our new focus.”

“What name?” Ralph asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Rexanne admitted. “Something fresh.”

Christina, sitting in the back, hesitated before speaking. “This might sound corny, but…”

“There are no bad ideas,” Jake said from his corner, sucking on a gumdrop.

“How about GOLDiggers?”

“Gold diggers?” Ralph frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Not gold diggers! GOL diggers.” She stretched out the letters. “G.O.L. as in Game of Life. And if we’re helping Cassie dig for the answers, then we’re the Diggers!”

The room went quiet for a beat before the idea hit. Then, all at once, the group burst into a chant: “GOLDiggers! GOLDiggers!”

“Maybe,” Rexanne shouted over the noise, “for a fun nickname, group members could be called Goldies!”

Seattle was about to bring the gathering to and end, when Jake blurted out, “I have one last question for Cassie.” Those who had begun to leave returned to their seats.

“One last question … for  Cassie,” Jake announced.

Turning to her, he asked, “Cassie, if you could sum up everything you’ve learned in just one sentence—one thought—what would it be?”

Cassie stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, the audience patiently waiting for her response. Finally, she spoke. “I think it’s this: life is a game, and we’re all just pieces on the board. Our souls are the true Players, while we, in our human forms, are merely the game pieces. It ultimately comes down to the choices we make together with our souls. And God is watching to see how we choose.”

The audience was completely silent, like sponges, soaking up each word.

“In the end, we humans are all just arrogant puppets. We think we know it all…” Looking around, Cassie said slowly, “… but we know nothing of True Reality. Only this artificial, pointless, temporary, and grossly distorted reality of our own creation.”

One last pause, and one closing thought. “Life is a game. We humans are just Playing Pieces. We Souls are the Players, wishing to make the plays – if only our tokens would listen.” Cassie pressed her hands together and whispered, “Namaste,” before taking her seat to a thunderous round of applause.