A Survivor's Guide to Eternity

by Pete Lockett

  “So far so good. Let’s try and open up a document and see if I can type anything meaningful.”

  Ed extended out his claws as far as they would go and with the far left claw of his right paw dragged down and across the touchpad, moving the cursor erratically all over the desktop. His left paw meanwhile rested on the left corner of the laptop casing keeping it steady. Up, down, across, left and right, back and forth, in and out and round and round. He slowly mastered the cursor movement and got fairly comfortable moving it around the screen.

  Next he tried clicking a few things. He dragged the cursor over a program icon and moved his paw down to the click buttons to try and open it. It hurt his claw as he unsuccessfully clicked but he persevered and after a few attempts managed to master the technique. He then scrolled up to the ‘close program’ icon in the upper right corner of the screen and closed it, then opened it and closed it again. Time after time he opened and closed programs before switching his attentions to his typing skills, opening Microsoft word and trying to type.

  ‘8ii anm a cat whyy m iu sa caat… I don@t lknow why I anm as xcat aanb I wwamt too so;lvee thwe riddfle on the ointewernet ifg ii vcan’

  “This is hopeless. How will I ever be able to type a URL or navigate anywhere like this?”

  Distraught, Ed pulled away from the computer and stared disconsolately at the screen, bewildered and disillusioned. After a few minutes the waves of the screen saver began splashing their optimistic wateriness in his face once more.

  “Fuck it! I’ve already wasted something like an hour. I can do this. Pull yourself together, sort this shit out right now.”

  Ed gave himself a stern inspirational poke and got back into position at the keyboard.

  “I can do this. I will do this. I am doing this and soon I will have done this. It might be the only opportunity I ever get.”

  With this he launched back into the word document, tapping, tickling, poking and prodding the keys until he mastered some semblance of control.

  ‘I amm a Cat. My nsme is Ed, not friking Smunky. Whst is a Smmnky anyway? I am niot daftt or stuupid sndwould like to sit omn th sofa 3very now aand theen. I like th foopd you give me but I wa,mt more pleawse. Abnother thimg, you hsve comput3r problems b3cause you don’’tt hsve a proper anti virus instslled. If I hav3 time tomight, I will do thst for you. Llove. Ed’

  Save as; ‘A massage frim your cat.doc’

  Location; Desktop

  “That will be funny when he finds it,” smirked Ed as he clicked on the Mozilla Firefox browser icon and opened up an internet browser.

  “Where shall I start? I don’t even know the date I died.”

  Ed sat, confused about how to begin his search. He figured he had at least ninety minutes until Ali and Frank came home and he didn’t want to waste time. Firefox had opened up on the Google search page and so he began typing in random search requests.

  Motor accident on M3.

  Car crash and death on A303 / M3.

  Car accidents near Basingstoke.

  Nothing significant came up at all, at least not anything that seemed linked to him in any way whatsoever. Was his death that insignificant that it had not received any attention whatsoever in the media? Was he such a nobody that he just disappeared with a whimper rather than a bang? He felt disillusioned once more.

  “What am I hoping to achieve? Even if I do find any meaningful facts, what use will it be? I’m dead and in a perpetual cycle of being reincarnated into different animals. What’s the point?” Ed slumped down again feeling sorry for himself.

  “Christ all mighty! Give me some help here, dude. If you are bloody well there, which I now seriously doubt, give me a clue.” He started to feel angry at the situation, the adrenalin pumping into his little feline veins and reigniting him once more as he stared up for divine intervention.

  “Just one more go, one more go. Why don’t I look at some of my company’s online sites? I’ll start with Cubiz.”

  Soon he was tapping away at the keyboard once more, typing into the address bar: www dot CubiZ dot Com. Lo and behold, the site sprang up and in the bottom right hand corner of the screen was a picture of him and a big fluorescent glowing announcement in a box.

  Sad news. Ed Trew, creator and owner of CubiZ Ltd has been taken from us in a tragically fatal car accident. Click here for details.

  He sat overwhelmed, miserable, confused and shattered. He thought he would read some headlines in his time but one regarding his own death was really pushing the boat out. Looking at his picture and seeing the announcement, it penetrated to his inner core with a painful permanence and forlorn solitary loneliness. For the first time in his existence, he was in mourning about his own death whilst asking himself a very important question: Do I exist?

  I used to feel my existence was so permanent, or at least long lasting. Now I feel anything but. Does that mean I don’t exist or is each new transience a new existence? Maybe my consciousness constitutes existence but even that is not exactly long lasting because it changes slightly with my tastes, desires and habits of each animal. What a conundrum, thought Ed, as he clicked on the link to the story about his passing.

  Ed Trew 1970 – 2009

  Ed Trew, the designer and owner of CubiZ was sadly killed in a road accident on September 22nd 2009 at approx 17.00. He was thirty-nine years of age and was the pioneer in the design of all CubiZ solar power units and the ‘RuZZia snow cleaner’ which has done so well in Eastern Europe, Siberia and the Far East. He was posthumously awarded the ICBDF Designer of the Decade award for his stunning solar power inventions which will be such a vital ingredient of a greener lifestyle for the world.

  The cause of the crash is unknown but mobile phone records have shown a busy period of texts and calls just before the tragedy. He was alone in his silver Volvo estate at the time of the accident, and the only casualty. It was reported that a car near the scene had a tyre blow-out at around the same time on the same stretch of road and could have been the cause. The driver reported seeing Ed’s car swerve into the central reservation before veering across the three lanes and into a ditch beside the carriageway where it appears to have overturned, probably twice. No other cars were involved in the accident on the M3 northbound half a mile or so from the junction with the A303 near Dummer.

  Ed leaves a wife, Abella, but no children. His legacy will live on as his company CubiZ continues to grow from strength to strength. Abella Trew has taken over the chairman’s role of the company and has appointed a strong team of experts from the field to work with her to take the company to the next level. Since Ed’s death, numerous lucrative orders have come in from Siberia for the RuZZia cleaner and five local councils in the UK have committed to supply at least fifty percent of their street lighting with the CubiZ solar system. Consequently the company has expanded and is currently developing three large factory areas in the Midlands and expects to employ a work force of around 4,250 in the new facilities within twelve months.

  Mr Trew is sadly missed by all his colleagues, friends and relatives but his legacy lives on and CubiZ Ltd continues to push towards being the world’s leading solar power developer.

  Ed stared emotionally at the screen. Everything he had dreamed of for the company was coming true but he was not going to witness it.

  “Christ, all that success and I am becoming aware of it as a bloody cat living with two Basingstoke Town fans. How bad can it get?”

  With this, Ed realised he could look at the date on the computer and work out how long he had been away. He dragged his paw across the touchpad and manoeuvred the cursor down and over the bottom right hand corner of the screen. It displayed the time, 21.03. As he moved the cursor over this section it displayed the date: November 07 2011.

  Sam was right - looks like I’ve been dead for over two years. Whatever happened to me during that time? Was I just floating in nothingness? How bizarre. At least I know the truth now and can be sure it’s not a dream. I don’t know how useful it’ll all be,
or even if this Viking guy can help, but at least I know. That’s got to be something, reflected the cat, catching his reflection in the glass of a small framed photo above the computer. It was Ali and Frank sitting beside a sun-drenched grey / green swimming pool, both clutching enormous ice creams. They looked so happy in that moment, as if their destiny was condensed there and then. An indelible moment of joy, love and companionship that must certainly be etched on both their memories.

  It made Ed miss Abella even more and dragged his mood into a sudden forlorn misery. He sat motionless for a while before picking himself up to reflect on the positives. He felt reassured that Abella had become so committed to the company and seemed to be taking it all forward. He was glad she had found the energy and motivation to continue, but deep down he still couldn’t help feeling bereft that she was living her life without him. It felt like they’d lived for each other and that anything else was out of the question.

  The thoughts rushed through his head like fireworks in an empty gas tank. He wondered what to do. Could he contact her? How he would love to log onto his email and send her an email. How would she ever believe him though? He reflected on what he would say;

  ***

  -----Original Message-----

  From: Ed Trew [mailto:edtrew @ CubiZ dot biz]

  Sent: 07 November 2011 21.09

  To: ABELLA TREW

  Subject: Re: I am a cat and was previously a tortoise

  Dear Abella,

  You do not need to worry. I am currently a cat in Basingstoke and was previously a tortoise in, well somewhere near Basingstoke I guess. I am not in pain and I am hoping to find a way to get back to you. I am sorry I died and although I would like to say that I won’t do it again, that would be a white lie because sadly I have to kill myself every four days. Annoying but sometimes you need to go with the flow.

  Trust me when I tell you that this is not easy to explain.

  I love you so much and miss you even more.

  Love. Ed

  ***

  No. I can’t send anything like this. It would just open up the wound again and she’d just think it was some digital prankster and be angry.

  Ed sat back a little from the computer and slumped with misery, not knowing what to do.

  “I’m dead but I have an opportunity to contact her. This would be redefining Ouija boards and séances. Speaking to the dead in the twenty-first century. Just hit send and you and your loved one will be digitally connected with our 100% authentic Ouija app,” joked Ed to himself. He loved her so deeply though. Of all the things to lose with his passing, his relationship with her was undisputedly top of the list. However, he knew he could not send her an email. It would be so cruel and destructive. He sat quietly with his sadness for a moment before sitting bolt upright again, looking at his reflection in the computer screen. A proud Egyptian-looking cat browsing online. How modern can you get? Soon he was focused back on the laptop and navigated to the home page of the CubiZ website and on to the products page.

  It listed a number of new products that he had not seen before. Solar powered shoes with thermal feet warmers, tents with solar panel material that powered little LED bulbs in the roof, solar powered flasks that would keep coffee warm for days and even a solar powered crash helmet that could blow either hot or cold air inside. The list went on and on as Ed scrolled through, amazed at how everything had come together. He glanced down again at the bottom of the screen to check the time. It had crept on to 21.19. He figured he had half an hour left before Ali and Frank arrived back home from the match.

  He navigated back to Google and typed in; free anti virus download.

  Soon he was on the site of ‘Zap a spam MO-FO’ and was downloading and installing the program. He was getting comfortable with the paw and claw motions on the touch pad, speeding through the process of putting the product on the laptop and updating the anti virus definitions. In no time he had clicked on the scan option and the computer was having its hard drive trawled through for nasty, unnecessary and downright bloody annoying infiltrations from some spotty anaemic computer hacker in Eastern Europe or the Far East.

  Why do they even bother in the first place? They can’t see when they have zapped someone. What’s the point? thought Ed, as the scan completed itself.

  1246 problems found. Do you want to quarantine and delete these problems.

  YES? NO?

  Ed happily clicked on ‘YES’ and watched the anti virus strut its funky stuff as it zapped each and every one of the invaders, proudly showing a bloody scene of a computer hacker being shot in the head at point blank range each time. That amounted to 1246 re-runs of the gruesome scene and took over fifteen minutes.

  Right then. Turn on automatic updates, close down the internet browser and brush my paw marks off the touch pad, thought Ed, as he tidied up the scene and tried to get the computer back into position on the table before jumping down onto the chair and then onto the floor.

  He meandered out into the kitchen and lapped hungrily from his saucer of milk before returning to the living room and the comfort of his basket. He got back into his now familiar recline with his legs poking out and his head resting over the edge of the cut out at the front. Soon he had nodded off, only to be abruptly awoken by a slam at the door and loud footsteps approaching along the passageway and bursting into the living room.

  “What is this new bloody offside rule anyway? Not offside if the player is not interfering with play. How much is he bloody well interfering with play when he scores a goal? Can’t bloody well interfere with play more than that. Morons, the lot of ‘em,” ranted Frank, completely disillusioned with the law makers and referees of the glorious game.

  “Miserable, eh? Anyway, we were undone with a Kipper blow,” replied Ali.

  “It’s not Kipper blow, stupid, it’s a killer blow.”

  “Whatever. We’re still top though, Dad; Scummers lost.”

  “Don’t call them scummers. They are just another football team, or town or whatever you want to call them.”

  Together they headed into the kitchen, tossing their jackets at the sofa behind them. They disappeared from sight before Frank momentarily reappeared and tossed his hat towards the jackets, missing totally and landing on Ed’s head.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake, thought Ed, as he tossed it off, whilst beginning to notice the alluring smell of fish and chips.

  “Sorry, Smunky,” said Frank as Ed followed him and the smell into the kitchen.

  “We’ve got to give Smunky some, Dad, just a bit.”

  “Okay then, a bit of fish and a few chips and that’s it,” replied his father.

  “Great, he’ll love that,” said Ali as he unwrapped his portion and broke some fish off. He placed this together with seven chips onto a clean cat bowl and placed in on the floor before putting his own, much larger portion on a blue and white patterned plate, lashing it with salt and vinegar.

  “Oh please, salt and vinegar for me, salt and vinegar please,” mewled Ed, standing on his back legs with his front clawing up the cupboard doors towards the seasonings.

  “Is it my imagination or is he getting fussier and fussier? He surely can’t be asking for salt and vinegar, can he?” said Frank disbelievingly as cat noises blurted with desperation from Ed’s mouth.

  “Wow, that’s strange. I’ll put some on and see,” replied Ali, before grabbing both pots and bending down to the bowl on the floor. Ed jumped down, setting all four paws on the floor simultaneously like a moon mobile. He followed him over, nudging his hand when he had the right amount of salt and just enough vinegar.

  “That is unbelievable, Dad. Either I am imagining it or this is the most clever cat in the world.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go and eat this. Then it’ll be time for bed,” replied Frank, heading into the living room with both plates in hand.

  Brilliant, fish and chips. This has got to be better than being a tortoise any day of the week, thought Ed, as he began tearing at the food in true cat-
like fashion, tossing it from side to side whilst trying to gnash at it with his jaws.

  Once his treat of a meal was over he headed back into the living room. Ali and Frank had finished and Frank was bringing the plates back into the kitchen.

  “It’s late, time for bed, young man,” said the father as he returned to the living room.

  “All right, Dad.”

  Ali got up, and they both left the room, Frank switching the light off as he walked through the door, his arm trailing behind him. Squeaks and moans came from the stairs as the loose thin floorboards of each step felt the force of the heavy footsteps. Soon the sounds had demised, leaving only the odd squeak as father and son went about their duties in their respective rooms.

  ***

  Ed returned to the comfort of his basket and tried to get some sleep. He was restless with all the discoveries of the evening and soon decided on a bit of adventure instead.

  Right, a bit of night life for me I think. It will be very interesting to check out these ‘night vision’ eye balls,” thought Ed, as he jumped out of his basket and strolled elegantly over towards the kitchen.

  Might even find myself a little feminine feline companion. I wonder what that would be like. I wonder if I’d fancy her. thought Ed, marvelling at the prospect.

  I definitely won’t suggest ‘Doggie’ position though. That might go down very badly, smirked the cat to himself as he pushed his way through the cat flap and into the mellow night.

  He proceeded down the thin path and into the main overgrown garden. The bright fluorescent street lamp at the front threw a reasonable amount of orange light onto the scene but as soon as he got into the main part of the garden his whole focus started to change and he began to see the benefits of feline vision. It was as if the view was being filtered through some sort of strange photographic ISO machine, making it much brighter and whiter than it really was. Then, when he looked around back at the brighter path area it compensated so that everything seemed pretty evenly illuminated. Meanwhile his whiskers sensed everything in the locality with GPS accuracy, like the sensors in a modern car sounding when something’s too close.