Carpe Diem

by Michael Loring

his room one day and had his way with the poor plastic Soldier. James specifically remembered crying to his mother about it, but was ignored as they believed the dog wasn't capable of such an extremity. He had his revenge though, for the dog chewed up one of his father's favorite watches and was thrown out into a pound.

  “The reason they're in boxes,” Bud continued, having been analyzing the broken toy himself with wonder. “is because you emotionally packed up all of this childish stuff and stowed it away into the deepest recesses of your mind.”

  James put back the action figure. “So we're in the deepest recesses of my head...I mean mind?”

  Bud looked pensive for a moment before answering. “Well...yes and no. See, there are levels to your mind, and this is the bottom level. Technically it could be seen as the deepest level, I guess. But in reality you just have random crap lying around.”

  James considered this and scanned the surrounding area. He saw that the TV's screen was blank, and that the car was a dark blue 1980's Corvette without the hood.

  He recognized the Corvette as his second and most memorable car. His father had given him an Oldsmobile for his first car, but the thing was near totaled when he got it. Mainly the reason he got it at such a low price.

  James remembered hating the Oldsmobile, and had saved up for two years to buy the Corvette. Top-notch model of its time; James had done so many amazing things in that car in his teenage years. One of the best things he had done in that car was lose his virginity to Annie Spruce – his now ex-wife.

  The television-set he also recognized. It was the TV that had lay in his father's study for most of his childhood. James remembers trying to sneak into the study to watch TV on it while his father was away and his mother didn't notice. Unfortunately, he was caught and in a fit had accidentally destroyed the device. James remembers it mostly because it was his first broken arm, and one of the longest lectures he had ever gotten in his life.

  The brown oak television was just as perfect and clean as he remembered. The glass screen wasn't broken, like was the one in his memory. It was polished and ready to give picture.

  “What are those stairs then?” James inquired. Nothing in his childhood had involved stairs. His parents didn't like two-floor houses. Something that had stuck with him as well.

  “Like I just said,” Bud walked to the bottom of the stairs, staring upwards at something James couldn't see. “This is the first floor – the first level. So, as such, these stairs take you up into the next.”

  “Like in a mall?” James wondered.

  “A what?”

  “Never mind,”

  “So!” Bud cheered, clapping his hands together. “Let's go on to the next level. I have a very busy schedule and I'd like to hurry this little process along before my next appointment. After you.” Bud smiled as he stepped aside to let James go first.

  James felt apprehensive to walking up the stairs. He suddenly had a flash to a few stories that involved “The Stairway to Heaven”. He didn't know what was going to be on the next floor of his mind.

  At least he was going up.

  “Move it!” Bud yelled, waving his hand for James to go.

  James took in a breath and began to climb the white, stone stairway that led only a few meters off the ground.

  He took six steps, wondering how this transportation would work, before suddenly the world around him blurred yet again. It was the same nauseating feeling as before when he arrived to his mind. His balance unhinged, he felt the pit of his stomach churn and then he was on solid ground yet again.

  This time, he found himself at the top of the stairs. The scenery was different, brighter in both the literal sense and the metaphorical one. The sky was ocean blue with a cloud or two, while the ground was covered in a grassy blanket. He stood atop a knoll at the center of the field, surrounded by a swarm of wasps. The air smelled of dirt and morning dew. James had to take a moment to process that only a second ago he was in what was virtually a wasteland.

  Off in the distance was the same tree he had seen earlier. Except now he could see it a bit more clearly, as if closer.

  James stepped away from the flight of stairs and inhaled the mid-summer scent. It was as if he was standing in a field in mid-April. It was beautiful, and James stood awestricken for what felt like hours.

  “Hm, seems you were a rather content man in life.” Bud again materialized from thin air next to James. He didn't flinch this time.

  “I was,” James said, still reeling from the beauty of the field. Eventually he turned to address Bud. “How can you tell?”

  Bud walked ahead of James, waving his hand around to clear his sight of the many bugs flying around. “This is the second level. Where your baser emotions lie. From the look of things I'd say you were content in life, if not mildly happy.”

  James took a 180 look around. “This means content?” He was flabbergasted. “What does happy look like?”

  “Nothing can describe it,” Bud smiled, a faraway look in his eyes.

  James walked forward off the knoll and onto the hard ground. The wasps were in his face. He swiped at them as he spit out one that got brave enough to land on his mouth. “What's with the bugs dammit!?”

  “They're your emotions.” Bud said, swiping at the bugs as well.

  James furrowed his brow once again. “Say again?”

  Bud huffed as he gave up on swatting away the wasps. “Every bug is representative of every emotion you've ever felt in your life. They swarm around this area, spawning combinations of their assigned emotions for you to feel during situations.” Bud explained.

  “That's...just downright ridiculous.” James said.

  Bud raised a brow. “Really? You don't think what I say is true?” he tested.

  James scrunched up his face as he waved his hand around. “Well...these bugs are my emotions? That's just dumb!”

  Bud smiled what James was coming to realize was his signature. “Want to test me?” he challenged. “Put out a finger and watch what happens,”

  James frowned, not understanding. He silently put out his index finger and waited. The bugs swarmed around his hand for a second before one landed softly at the tip of his finger.

  A rush of emotions swam through him. He gasped as he felt his whole body tremble as a tirade of feelings randomized within him, searching for the right one to place on.

  In an instant, James suddenly felt his muscles sag and his face fall. Utter, unadulterated depression flooded his senses. He felt as if the whole world meant nothing, that no one was important and that in the end they all died and ended up here. Like him. They would die in some shape or form, and then end up confused, frightened and alone. Nothing mattered, because James was dead. And he would never see anyone he loved ever again.

  Just as quickly and suddenly did the emotion surface did it leave. James felt every negative emotion leave just as the bug lifted off his finger and merge back into the swarm. He watched another come close, but instantly pulled back in fear of facing another one of those blasts.

  “See?” Bud snickered.

  James inhaled slowly, catching his bearings before speaking. “Alright...I believe you...” he said unsteadily.

  Bud smirked smugly. “In the future: don't go against me.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Good, let's move on.” Bud led James across the field, a good ten minute silent walk, towards what looked to be another stair case within a tree. The hollow of the tree was carved inwards with wooden steps leading inside into the darkness.

  Bud nodded his head and James took the lead. He ducked his head as he stepped up the wooden path. He was blind for a second before he was transported to a new area.

  James now found himself in a strange arena. He was standing in a cage in the shape of an octagon, with a rubbery white floor. Around the cage were bleachers where people would sit and cheer on the impending carnage that surely took place within the arena.

  James recognized this place to be a UFC stage, or ma
ybe boxing. He wasn't sure. He just recognized the topless cage with both red and blue corners. There were bright overhead lights that blared right into his face, forcing him to shield his eyes with his hand. He stomped down to test the durability of the floor, and found it stable enough before walking to the red corner.

  As he leaned back against the corner, he noticed Bud doing the same on the blue corner. The bearded man was, as expected, smiling.

  “This is the level that varies,” Bud explained. “This place represents your biggest trait, and takes form accordingly. By the looks of things I'd say your trait was that you were competitive in life.”

  James couldn't argue. Whenever given the chance, he'd work hard to one-up someone else. Didn't matter what it was; he did it. Be it sports, video games, music or eating. He'd do everything to surpass someone else to get that rush of winning. What was the point of competing if you didn't win?

  “Most people are,” James replied.

  Bud shrugged. “Well of course. But you, in life, were best known for your competitiveness. As such, this place is this arena.” Bud scanned his surroundings with interest. “What...uh, sport is this place meant to hold?”

  “Fighting,”

  “You people actually enjoy others fighting now? That's entertainment these days?” Bud scrunched up his nose in disgust. A rare moment where he wasn't smiling, James noted.

  “It's fun.” James retorted.

  “Neanderthals,”

  “So, this is just my competitive side? Nothing else? Just an arena?” James