Chapter 7: Friends Forever? Pt1

The grim reaper had spared their lives. Instead of death they were given a choice. The gatekeeper to the afterlife had given them another chance. Perhaps it was a chance to say goodbye or a chance to start over. Shane had died in order to feel alive that very morning. So instead of waiting for the grim reaper to come for him he had taken the bold step to the gates of the afterlife.

Death had been unwilling to claim Shane's soul and in exchange she took that of another. At first Simon had been unwilling to participate, but then he thought what the hell? Rather than die, if it was only his soul, the seat of his emotion, that was going to be exchanged to keep those his priceless memories then why not?

However, memories were not just formed from experience of the mind alone.  The soul, the centre of emotions, also stores its own memories that allows you to remember even that which you had never experienced. Are you familiar with the concept of Deja Vu? It is when you feel like something has happened before but for the life in you, you just can not place when or where. That was what was happening with Simon since he awoke from his coma. He felt he could eat meat from a past life he never recalled. He felt he spoke a language from the same past life and he certainly spoke Arabic. 

Simon had desperately wanted to believe that it was all a dream when he had woken up. Come on, really? He wondered about how authentic it had been that he exchanged his soul. As he awoke groggily from his sleep he felt himself desperately needing to get out of his groggy state. This was the day he would finally get some answers. He hurried into the bathroom and put paste on his brush. He noticed for the first time his own reflection trapped in the bathroom mirror. 

Simon and Simone were both identical twins, however, Simone had the softer features and all the scintillating features of a woman. Simon had shorter hair. His muscles were moderately built. He had a very full beard. He reached for a clipper then began to shave and trim the beards. He looked at himself confidently as he turned his face in different angles checking out his good looks. Satisfied, he dropped the clipper. He picked up his already pasted brush and brushed his teeth. He flashed a grin in the mirror and his oral cavity glistened. He ran a quick bath after that. Simone had been downstairs making breakfast and he gave her a quick goodbye kiss. 

He stopped in the hallway to look at the array of car keys lined up on a board that hung on a wall. Something about the Ferrari keys called out to him but as he picked it he immediately remembered his car crash. The keys fell out of his hand. 

"Bad memories?" Mr Solomon said.

"Yes father," Simon replied, picking up the key. 

"You can have any of the drivers," Mr Solomon said, stopping in front of his son. "You've been acting strangely, that's what Simone said."

"Father," Simon called, desperately. "Simone is just worried because she sees me doing some stuff I never did in her presence before. I'm fine, nothing is happening to me."

"Okay if you say so," Mr Solomon said, patting Simon's shoulder. "Have a pleasant day."

"Thank you father," Simon said, hurrying off as he checked his watch. 

The Ferrari was moving at an underestimated pace. When the road became freer it tore at a speed that Simon heart racing seemed like a million times slower. He did not complain about the driver overspending. In fact he was worried he would not meet Peter Brooklyn. The car found a spot in the parking lot and rested silently. He remembered the bed and breakfast restaurant and yet he felt like he was entering it for the first time.

His phone rang startling him since he was still not used to the ringtone. He answered, "Hello."

"Walk down to the last seat in the left row from where you're standing," the familiar voice of Peter Brooklyn said. 

Peter Brooklyn was a dark skinned man with an impeccable fashion sense. He wore a well dark tailored suit that fit in all the right places. He looked like he was on some urgent business. Simon sat across from the man resting his two index fingers on the bridge of his nose. 

"Peter Brooklyn?" Simon said. 

"The one and only," Peter said, handing Simon a paper cup of coffee. "Glad you could make it. I'm sure you have questions." 

"Like hell I do!" Simon said, accepting the coffee but knew he would not drink it. "Who the hell are you and how did you know about my dream?"

"I'm an astrologer," Peter began in his most convincing tone. "I felt a strong connection to you on the night of your re-embodiment. Then I fell into a deep trance and saw you make the deal."

"I know about astrologists but I've never heard of such a thing before. How can I be sure you are not just selling me a story?"

"This is different," Peter said, pausing to sip from his cup. "Answer me this if I was a fraud how would I have known about your dream? Though that was a real experience. Hold on, you spoke Arabic with me yesterday. How do you explain that?"

Simon began feeling thirsty. He eyed the man curiously and said, "So what do you want from me?"

"You see after you made the deal I was instructed by the Egyptian man to warn you."

"What? Warn me about what? Please can you hurry up and stop wasting my time," Simon said, feeling tempted to sip from the coffee.

Peter frowned as he replied, "You mustn't tell anyone what you saw in the spirit world. I saw another prophecy that you will surely die three days after revealing the secret of your reincarnation to anyone. Also the karma of the soul inside of you needs spiritual cleansing or else you'll encounter serious bad luck."

"I'm sensing that's not the whole situation," Simon said. "Otherwise why will you be telling me?"

"Yes there's more to the situation," Peter said, fumbling with his briefcase. "The soul can only be cleansed with an act of charity. You will need to deposit a sum of one million dollars into a charity fund account. I'm sure for a man of your status this is a small price to pay."

Simon found himself wondering what the hell he was doing with this fraud? He could not tell how but he was starting to feel maybe there was a new drug in town. Perhaps one that gave you specific dreams. He thought maybe his doctor had planned it all with Peter Brooklyn. Then frustration nicked on him as he remembered his ability to eag meat and speak a foreigne language. Peter Brooklyn had fetched a form from his briefcase.

"What is this?" Simon asked, taking the paper. "You can't possibly expect me to sign this!"

"Come on," Peter said gingerly. "You signed more than this when you exchanged your soul. This is just the physical part. As above, so below. The spiritual controls the physical. We are merely acting a role that has already been acted out."

Simon was convinced that the document was authentic. It was Peter's registered business contract form for his astrology company. He read number four of terms and conditions in the form. He would be agreeing to deposit a sum of one million dollars to a charity fund account.

Simon felt weary but since he knew no better about reincarnation or spirituality he accepted the pen Peter was offering. He paused, something about how he held the pen felt strange. He flipped the paper to the back which was blank. He wrote with his left hand effortlessly. He switched the pen to his right hand and as he suspected he wrote easily too. Convinced he was now having superhuman abilities he turned the paper back to its front and signed his signature.