Of Sarah's Choosing

What if, upon your death, you could go back and change one event in your life? Sarah chose her one event unwisely--or was it unwise?

 

            “Welcome Sarah, on this, the most fortuitous day to die,” said a booming voice from a misty cloud.

            “Die? I feel fine,” Sarah said, trying to focus on the formless figure. “Who are you? Where am I?”

            “I am Gideon, the Spirit of Hereafter Transition,’ he said. “To be blunt Sarah, you are dead and this is The Afterlife. Violent deaths such as yours always prove difficult for the unprepared to accept. You too will soon accept the condition.”

            Checking her body that still wore comfy sweats, she thought that she seemed solid enough and non-dreamlike compared to Gideon’s nebulous form. Sarah then remembered the careening SUV coming out of nowhere, the overwhelming pain, and�"nothing.  She reached over to pinch her forearm.

            “Okay, I’ll play along,” Sarah said with hesitant conviction. “Why is my dying today fortuitous?”

            “Because dying on the Eve of May gives you a special ability.”

            “Lucky me. If I’m dead, what good is a special ability? Can I leap over clouds?” She laughed nervously.

            “No, nothing as trivial as that,” Gideon said. “You get a chance to travel back and change one event in your life.”

            “Ah, I’ve heard about this. Let me see�"how about not dying?”

            “Sorry, that is not an option.”

            “Of course not,” Sarah said. “If I’m dead and go back today�"ah�"don’t apparitions traditionally arise on October 31^st?”

            “October 31^st remains reserved for those others,” Gideon indicated downward.

            “Oh, okay that’s encouraging. How about my changing something big, say, calm an earthquake or suppress an hurricane?”

            “Come now, Sarah, you aren’t Him.”

            “No, of course not. So you tell me my special ability has limitations.”

            “Sorry, my omission. I have a lot of souls to process and inform of today’s option. In essence, your ability lets you change a single event you originally had a choice in bringing about.”

            “Like which restaurant I chose the night I died?”

            “Imprudent use of your ability and the outcome remains the same.”

            Sarah thought a few moments despite Gideon’s impatience. “How long to I have to decide?”

            “Not long. The chance must be used soon.”

            “Not much time to decide on something so pivotal,” Sarah said glancing aside. “I need to wake up.”

            “This is not a dream,” Gideon said, his voice sounding more commanding. “I thought you accepted death.”

            “Maybe I do. As you said, it is difficult,” Sarah said looking down at herself. “I look the same as before�"though I seem to have lost weight.”

            “You see your desired form. Decide on an important event to change before you lose the chance.”

            “Well, for argument and clarification’s sake, let me see,” Sarah wondered aloud. “I decided on college, I agreed to get married, I chose to have two children�"”

            “Those are events you can change.”

            “What if I go back and choose not to marry?”

            “Then, the marriage never occurred.”

            “But my children?”

            “Were never born,” Gideon said. “You get the point?”

            “Sure, I’ve read about this scenario. I’ll have memories of my children, but they never existed.”

            “Fictional hogwash. Rest assured the memories disappear because you never experienced them. No children, no memories.”

            “But I do remember them.”

            Gideon sighed. “Because right now they exist. You gave them life and raised them�"unless you go back and change the circumstance.”

            “Ah, I get it,” Sarah said. “But I love my husband and children�"the memories. I suggested them only as an example.”

            “I know that. Hurry, you must decide.” Gideon impatiently drummed his fog fingers.

            Sarah pondered a few moments.

            “This boy sat behind me in third grade�"Michael Blunt. He pulled my hair every day.”

            “So? You didn’t murder him because you are up here and that’s another limitation to the ability�"you can’t go back to murder someone.”

            “Obviously, Gideon, I was eight years old. I want to go back to the third grade�"Mrs. Yokum’s class.” Sarah saw Gideon appeared displeased.

            “You know that squanders your one chance.”

            “For being the Spirit of the Hereafter Transition, you have no sense of childhood perils and their lifelong impacts on a person’s life.”

            “Sorry, I do apologize for my short-sightedness,” Gideon said. “It is yours to choose. You may travel back to any event of your choosing within the limitations we have discussed.”

            “First, clarify for me,” Sarah said. “If I chose not to something back then, can I choose to do it now?”

            “Yes, as your former self within the outline parameters.”

            “Good, I’m going back to the third grade.”
            Suddenly, Sarah sat in Mrs. Yokum’s class. The green chalkboards hung across the front of the room with multiplication problems scribbled across them. Mrs. Yokum sat behind her big desk.

            Michael,” Mrs. Yokum called. “Come up and do problem five.”

            Eight-year old Sarah heard his chair scrape on the floor behind her, and without looking she ducked away from his hip that would’ve rammed her shoulder. He stubbed his toe on her desk’s leg. While Michael slowly squawked chalk on the math problem, Sarah stabbed a thumbtack through a piece of tape she kept for the occasion but never had the courage to use. After a few moments when Michael sat down, a booming chuckle erupted from the Afterlife

            Sarah found herself an adult again, alive and whole, wearing a crisp expensive business suit. A careening SUV speeded past her.           

              

Reviews

[wondering]

Intersting thought, Wonder what we have to look forward in the hereafter