by Inmon, Shawn
“It never has been before. I just don’t want to leave this life behind. I have enjoyed it and I’m not sure the next one will be as nice.”
Moondog chose not to make himself an omelet, but to just sit and enjoy the morning quiet with Charles.
At 10:44, Charles choked, his face turned red, and his tongue stuck out. He slumped to one side.
“Oh, my God, Charles!” Moondog said, rushing to his side. Just as he reached his prone friend, Charles opened his eyes and smiled.
“I’ve never seen you play a practical joke before!”
“I never have, that’s why.”
Charles and Moondog shared a laugh.
Charles pitched face first, dead before he hit the carpet.
Chapter Forty-Five
CHARLES WATERS OPENED his eyes. He nodded sadly to himself, accepting that he was here once again and that he had left behind a life he had begun to love. He stayed silent, though, not wanting to encourage Dr. Masin to go on any more than he was. Nothing he said could be of any interest to him.
When Dr. Masin finished, he said, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Waters.”
Charles shrugged. “It’s just the way it is, isn’t it?”
He walked down the stairs to the street, noting the unchanging landscape there. He took the bus home and walked up the stairs to his condo. He hoped he would see Moondog there, but the hallway was empty.
Charles unlocked his door, but chose to leave the door open. He walked directly to the wall where Ephemerata should be hanging, but of course it was empty. He wandered into the kitchen, but all the pots and pans and groceries that had been there the night before were gone.
His home, once his most protected, comfortable spot, felt empty and cold.
He heard footsteps in the hall and poked his head out. Moondog was carrying a bag of trash to the garbage chute.
“Moondog!” Charles shouted down the hall, a bit louder than he had intended.
Moondog jumped a little and whirled around. “Oh, Charles, hello. You scared me.”
“Sorry, sorry. I wanted to be sure to catch you. You’re going to get a phone call from your brother tonight. When your phone rings, don’t forget to turn your stove off, or you’ll set fire to your kitchen.”
Moondog nodded as if he understood, then said, “Wait. What?”
“No time to explain now. I have errands to run. I’ll knock on your door later and explain.”
“O—kay,” Moondog said, clearly puzzled.
Charles grabbed his keys off the table, went through his door-locking routine, and hurried down the stairs to the Civic.
He drove straight to Herb ‘n Legend and went inside. The store looked just like it had the last time he had seen it. Dana sat behind the counter in his easy chair, but stood up when the doorbell announced a customer.
Dana looked Charles up and down and immediately recognized him as someone who wouldn’t normally wander in to his store.
“Good afternoon, can I help you.”
“Yes, you can.” Charles walked down the aisle and pointed to the painting in the place of honor on the wall. “I’d like to buy that.”
“Sorry, that’s the only thing in the entire store that’s not for sale. It was painted by a friend of mine.”
“Yes, I remember. Duncan Goodson. I’ll give you a thousand dollars for it.”
“Sorry, as I said, it’s not for sale.”
“Two thousand.”
“That’s a very fair price, but it’s not for sale.”
That’s different. Why?
“I’ll pay three thousand dollars for it.”
Dana leaned forward on the counter, enunciating carefully. “As I say, it’s not for sale.”
Charles let out a deep breath. This was not going at all according to plan. Finally, defeated, he said, “Thank you,” and retreated to the car.
He sat in the Civic for long moments, feeling the loss of the painting he loved and trying to work out why Dana had refused to sell it to him this life, when he had the previous one. The only difference he could think of was that Moondog had been with him the first time.
Could that really make any difference?
Depressed, Charles put the Civic in gear and drove to Safeway.
He pushed a shopping cart through the store, up and down each aisle, often forgetting something and having to backtrack. After an hour, he had everything he needed to be able to make the dishes Moondog had taught him.
Charles drove home, put the groceries away and considered cooking something for himself.
He wasn’t really hungry, though. He was lonely.
He looked at the digital clock on the wall and tried to remember what time it was when Moondog had come beating on his door in his last life. He decided that it was earlier than this, so Moondog must have heard from his brother by now.
He went next door and knocked on Moondog’s door.
Moondog answered and said, “That was some magic trick. I didn’t know my brother was going to call, so how did you?”
“That’s all part of the story,” Charles said. “Can I come in?”
“Of course. It was the weirdest thing. I hadn’t talked to my brother in a long time, and if I hadn’t run into you in the hall, I think I might have done exactly what you said. I had some oil on to heat and I think I would have forgotten all about it.”
“I think so too. That’s what happened last time, at least.”
“Last time?”
“Yes, last time. In my last life, you set your kitchen on fire and weren’t comfortable living in a hotel while your contractor made the repairs, so you moved into my condo with me.”
“I don’t know which of those sentences is weirder—that you mention a ‘last life,’ or that you and I were roommates. I can’t imagine.”
“Can you make us some of your tea you import from Thailand? The oolong? That’s my favorite. If you’ll make some of that, I will tell you the whole story.”
“I don’t know which of us is losing our mind, or if it might be both of us, but I will make some tea and listen to your story.”
An hour later, Charles had brought Moondog up to speed about everything. He finished by telling him about his trip to get Ephemerata that afternoon.
“Oh, Dana wouldn’t have sold that to you at any price.”
“But, he already did. I bought it last life.”
“No. We bought it last life, even though I have no memory of it. He would have thought you looked like someone trying to pull something over on him. We can see Dana tomorrow. He might sell it to us yet.”
“Thank you. I would like to have it again, if I can. If not, I’ll have to wait until next life.”
Chapter Forty-Six
CHARLES AND MOONDOG stayed up late that night. Charles didn’t make it back to his own place until almost 2:00 a.m.
He decided to get up at his normal time and go into Graystone Insurance and give them his notice again. He’d had such a fulfilling life not having to go to work that he decided to do the same thing this life.
Charles dropped into a deep sleep as soon as he laid his head on his pillow.
He dreamed.
In his dream, he stood in his condo, but it was the condo from his previous life. Ephemerata hung exactly where it should. Moondog’s stereo and other belongings were there.
“I didn’t know if I could make this connection or not, but there you are.”
Charles jumped at the sound of the familiar voice and whirled around to see Moondog, smiling and floating a few inches off the ground.
“Why are you floating like that?”
“Because you get to do all the cool stuff. Since this is a dream of my own making, I thought I’d have a little fun too.”
“Which Moondog are you?”
“I am the Moondog you scared half to death by pretending to die this morning, then actually dying a minute later. That was a rough way to start the day.”
“But, how are you here? I am in a new life, a new dimensio
n, a new universe or something.”
“You are, but everything is connected.”
“How did you do it?”
“Better living through chemistry. I’ve been saving some special mushrooms. They were hidden in my bathroom and didn’t get damaged in the fire. Right after you died, I took them and tried to direct my consciousness to find you. Looks like it worked.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Seriously, Charles? Every life, you tell me the most outrageous story imaginable, and I always believe you, but you can’t believe this when I’m standing right in front of you? Come on, brother.”
“You’re right, of course. So, the whole world didn’t blink out when I died?”
“No sir. I’m sure you’re important in the cosmic scheme of things, but not that important. The world continued to turn on its axis without you. We’re all still here.”
“I’ve left so many worlds in my wake, then.”
“I don’t think that’s what’s important. I think what you manage to do with each of these lives is what is important.”
Moondog floated down to the floor.
“By the way, did you manage to keep me from burning my apartment down this time?”
“Yes. And I told you the whole story. You believed me.”
“It’s what I do.”
Moondog began to move in and out of phase and focus.
“I think I’m being pulled back. I just wanted to find you and tell you I’m still here and to thank you for everything you did for me. You got me moving again.”
Charles reached out to Moondog, but he was gone.
When his alarm went off, that dream was the first thing in his mind. He had been asleep, so of course it was a dream, but it also felt very much not like a dream.
He got dressed in his standard Graystone uniform, met with Vic Stander and slipped away from Graystone Insurance before lunch.
He felt like a kid escaping school and heading out on summer vacation.
He treated himself to lunch at Artie’s, then wandered through the stacks of books at The Prints and the Pauper.
That night, he knocked on Moondog’s door and invited him over for dinner. He broiled steaks and made a perfect baked potato with butter, sour cream, and chives.
After dinner, the two of them drove by Herb ‘n Legend to see if it was still open.
“Dana lives at the back of the store, so he keeps the place open until he’s ready to go to bed.”
As Moondog predicted, the store was lit up like it was the middle of the day, even though it was after 9:00 p.m.
Moondog led the way into the store. The bell above the door jingled and Dana glanced up from his spot behind the counter.
“Moondog! Cool, man. I was getting ready to turn off the lights.” At that moment, he saw Charles tagging along behind and a confused expression crossed his face.
Moondog turned to Charles and said quietly, “Go look at some of the other merchandise.”
Charles nodded and wandered away, looking at a long counter full of bongs, although he had no clue what they were for.
Moondog walked to the counter, leaned over and had a long, quiet conversation with Dana.
A few minutes later, he found Charles looking at a rack of underground magazines.
“Here’s the deal. You can buy the painting, but it’s going to cost you three thousand dollars.”
“That’s fine. What did you say to get him to sell it to you?”
Moondog looked up at the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. “I told him you were special needs, and that you were dying. He thinks it’s like a Make-A-Wish kind of thing.”
“I’ll write a check,” Charles said.
Ten minutes later, Ephemerata was safely stashed in the back seat and Charles was motoring toward the condo, doing exactly the speed limit.
“Next life, you should wait until you come and talk to me to try to buy the painting. Dana doesn’t like to do business with people he doesn’t know.”
When they got back to the condo, Charles asked Moondog if he would help him hang it, which he did.
Charles felt so much better with the painting on his wall.
The next morning, he got up early, made himself an omelet, and headed to Netarts.
He sat on the same log as always and waited for Sarah to come down from the parking lot.
As he waited, he thought back to that first time he had sat on this log, and how kind Sarah had been to him. He had been at a low point at that moment, and she had buoyed him.
When Charles saw Sarah approach, he steeled himself to once again step out of his comfort zone. The last time he had spoken to her had not gone well, but he tried to push that away from his mind.
When Sarah drew close enough to talk to without shouting, Charles said, “Are you here rockhounding, too?”
“I must have that look about me, then.”
“No, not really. It’s just why I am here and the rest of the beach is pretty empty. It was an easy guess.”
“Where are you heading to, then, fellow-rockhound?”
“Nothing exotic today. I thought I’d walk over by where the Whiskey empties into the bay. I’ve been there before with my mother and we found some nice things.”
“That’s a coincidence. That’s where I am heading as well. We might as well walk together, then, if you’re done with your rest.”
“Oh, I wasn’t resting. I was waiting for you.”
Sarah shot Charles a glance, checking to see if he was dangerous after all. She saw a mild-mannered man who wouldn’t have scared a kitten.
“I mean, once I saw you coming from the parking lot, I thought you might be heading the same way to rockhound.”
“Of course. Well, let’s be off, then.”
This time, when they reached the area where they had parted company in all previous lives, Charles turned left as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Chapter Forty-Seven
CHARLES HAD COME A long way in his many short lifetimes, but he was never going to be a sparkling conversationalist.
Still, he managed to rockhound alongside Sarah for the better part of two hours without completely putting his foot in it. Most importantly, he managed to not say anything that indicated he had met her on many previous occasions.
As the sun dropped low in the sky, Charles dropped one last agate in his bag and said, “I think that’s it for me. It’s been the best day of rockhounding I’ve had in a long time.” This was one of those occasions where he managed to say ‘A long time,’ instead of ‘many lifetimes.’
Sarah peered into the sky and said, “I suppose you’re right. I hate to go turn around, but I hate even more to be stumbling around in the dark.”
Charles once again elected to throw himself off a cliff of possibility.
“I don’t have anything but my condo waiting for me back in Middle Falls. But, there’s a café back in Netarts that didn’t look too bad. Would you like to stop and get some dinner? If that doesn’t do it for you, I do have some Bit-O-Honey candies in my pack I can offer you.”
Sarah gave Charles another of her piercing, evaluating looks.
“The café is good enough, although I do admit to a fondness for Bit-O-Honey. Shall we head back, then?”
They picked their way along the Whiskey River, no longer looking for rocks, but on a hike. It had taken them nearly two hours to wend their way to their stopping spot, but that was because they were constantly bent over, searching for whatever they might find.
They made the trip back to the parking lot in just over half an hour.
When they arrived, theirs were the only two cars parked there—Charles’ Civic and Sarah’s Corolla.
Charles approved of Sarah’s vehicle choice. “Good gas mileage,” he said, nodding toward her Toyota.
“It is, but not quite as good as your Civic, is it?”
Charles led the way back onto the highway and into Netarts proper.
There weren�
��t a lot of choices in Netarts, a town with a population less than a thousand people, but there was Bee’s Café, and that was good enough.
The parking lot outside Bee’s was surprisingly full, but that is the way it often is in small towns with only one choice on a Saturday night.
Inside, a stocky older woman greeted them and said, “There’s a table in the corner. You better grab that one, or you’re going to be eating at the bar.”
They sat down and the woman brought them menus. “Prime Rib sandwiches are on special tonight, but you better hurry. They’re running low.”
She hustled away again before they had a chance to answer.
“Do you eat out a lot?” Sarah asked.
“No. I’ve been teaching myself to cook. Or, more accurately, my best friend Moondog has been teaching me how to cook. I was completely hopeless in the kitchen before he took me under his wing.”
Sarah put her menu down and fixed Charles with a look. “Just so this doesn’t get uncomfortable, I need to tell you that I am not in the market for romance. I’ve made it this far in life on my own, and I am planning on going the rest of the road the same way.”
Charles nodded, as though this piece of information was interesting, but not sure how it applied to him.
“Are you okay with that?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you might not be okay with that if you were dead-set on finding romance yourself.”
“No, that’s not something I’ve ever needed. I was hoping to find someone I could go rockhounding with from time to time. And, I don’t have very many friends, so I could use one more.”
Sarah’s face split into a grin. “You are an unusual man, Charles.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
The waitress bustled over and took their order—they both elected for the prime rib dip—and was gone again.
“I was hoping,” Charles said, “that we could exchange phone numbers, so if we wanted to meet up somewhere and go rockhounding again, we could. I used to go with my mother until she got too old and sick to go, but I’ve found that I like it better when there’s someone else with me.”
