Floater or Die

Floater or die: If I wrote this, that means I’m aware, so the floater in my eye gets heaven

“And there’s no other choice?” I put both hands on my chin, bemused. “It’s either reincarnate or die?”

A laugh like tinkling glass answered me. “Arthur, you had a good life, and you’ve always wanted a pet rock-with this reincarnation now you might get your chance.”

“Well, yeah, but I never thought I’d be the rock.” I paused for a second. Looked at God. Then, “I won’t be a rock, though, right? You said I’d be a floater in someone’s eye?”

“Yes Arthur. Floater or die.”

“I just want to confirm before I become the size of a pencil shaving.” I say, pacing back and forth in the completely white room. “When we say that he’s got to realize that I’m in his eye- does he have to realize that I’ve reincarnated, or just that I’m there? And then I get to go to heaven?”

“Just that you’re there, Arthur.”

I racked my brain, a collection of thoughts and feelings that were the result of a life as a disgruntled religion professor at Oxford.

“So basically Jainism is true?”

“More or less. And remember, I don’t offer this to everyone, Arthur. You’ve got good karma.” Another smile, this time a bit more prompting. “Anything else?”

It didn’t seem like much of a choice. “Floater, I guess, but-”

“Good!”

There was a loud swish, a blue crackling, and I felt myself shrinking down into a determined speck.

...

The first chance I had was a bit disappointing.

It was morning, and I was lounging in Jerry’s right eye, trying with all my might to move, but failing.

Juice dribbled down her chin as she went in for a second. “Delicious!” Harley exclaimed, laughing at her own delight. Jerry, her brother elder by fifteen years, brown hair framing his wide brow, wiped the batter off his cooking gloves and crinkled his green eyes as she swooped her spoon in for a third bite of the fresh apple pie.

Angelina, their Austrian au pair walked in, and quipped, “Harley! The nutritionist!”

Harley peered at her through a haze of sugar, and lazily said, “He said that I could have a cheat meal.”

“Harley, you can’t have a cheat meal unless you have a regular diet to cheat from.”

“Exactly, I eat dessert and cheat sometimes with a salad.”

“That’s not how it works.” Angelina went to go sit on the beige beaten up couch in the living room. “You’re gonna regret all those brownies when you go looking for a man, mark my words.”

“Who said anything about brownies?” Jerry asked, coming in from the kitchen, swiftly taking the half-eaten brownie tray off the table. “Besides, Angelina, it’s her body.”

I felt the space where my face would’ve been scrunched up in concentration.

“And my bathroom to clean once the chocolate passes.”

“Hey!” Harley wiped her face with a napkin and stood up. “It’s not my fault that I have a crappy metabolism.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ve been cursed, ever since I was a child.”

Angelina scoffed, quasi-mom as she was.

“Didn’t you do cross-country back in Phoenix?” Jerry asked.

“Et tu, Jerrrus, et tu.” Harley said, pushing her chair in and plopping herself down next to Angelica. “And for the record, you were panting yesterday too as we were building the treehouse.”

He turned to respond, and that was the first time I moved.

Progress. 

So I thought at first.

I managed to twitch a smidge, and hoped that somehow he would see me and maybe get an idea, knock off two birds with one stone. 

Instead, I birthed five birds and smacked myself in the face with the rock. Well, metaphorically. The moment before Jerry’s brain realized that there was something affecting his line of sight- a glorious moment filled with anticipation- a fly buzzed right next to his face and hit him in the left eye. 

Jerry, completely draconian, rubbed both of his eyes viciously, which felt- exactly like you would expect it to, honestly. Not pleasant. I didn’t have a body, but apparently my pain receptors didn’t need to make sense to be functional.

...

As the weeks progressed, I was a bit more cautious about when I’d move, not wanting to relive that painful experience. My bodily functions were almost all gone. I didn’t have to breathe, or sleep, but I could close my eyes and pass out whenever I wanted, which came in handy whenever Jerry went to the shower. 

No one wants to see that, Jerry.

It also helped when he slept, so I wasn’t just stuck behind his eyelids for eight hours every night.

Mornings for Jerry consisted of scrambled eggs with some salt, pepper, and mustard, and then melting into khakis and a button down before heading to- guess what- guess who I was stuck with- his optometry residency. I would be the floater stuck in the eye of the most oblivious eye doctor ever. 

I could just imagine God laughing at his handiwork.

…

Chuckle.

...

As far as I could tell, Jerry was doing pretty well as a resident. He listened to the doctor’s orders to the tee and was patient with all of his patients. Some of them, whew. I respected this guy’s dedication to his craft. In my past life, I’d been- well, to be honest, things got kind of fuzzy whenever I thought about my past. It almost like the longer I’d been dead for, the less that I was bound by the life that I’d lived.

...

The months passed and the sun-lit spring days crumbled into a summer that ended with a flourish of wind and a brisk note to the air. I’d tried to think of new ways to get him to realize, but my mind was drawing a blank. And God hadn’t been so specific on the time limit of this thing, so for all I knew I could’ve been stuck this way forever, even past Jerry’s body sinking into the ground.

Everything seemed to be going well for him, which just made me more aware of how much things sucked for me. 

Well.

Ah.

Not completely true.

Thursday, November 15 was the first time she fell on her way out the door. Seizure, they said, as if a word could give meaning to it. It was morning, and sudden, and then it wasn’t, and then everything moved in slow-motion, or at least that’s how I imagined Jerry must’ve felt. Looking out from Jerry’s eye, people morphed into blurs that refused to take shape, and then- and then things went rapidly.

I saw Harley’s hand grow pale as the monitor beeped and devils of white pushed Jerry’s numb body out of the room, carrying me alongside.

As the tears began falling, Jerry couldn’t have known that I was there with him, drowning as well. He and Angelina flew through the forest to the treehouse they’d built only months ago, and they lay there for a while, bathing in the yellow light that filtered through the tops of the trees. Leaves hit their faces but they didn’t move. Jerry took out some apple pie, and munched on a few pieces, then his- and my- vision got blurry.

“She always liked the leaves,” Jerry said, looking at the brilliant crimsons and emeralds.

I felt for the kid, but I couldn’t help but think that even goddamn leaves were in a better position than I was. They, at least, were able to be picked up by the wind and fly away. I cried out in frustration, and sound actually came out, but it melted into the background noise of the forest, the rustling of the leaves, the humming of the birds, and the whirring of a fly. There was no way someone bigger than a quarter would’ve heard me.

...

Four days later, I messed up.

For Jerry, things were changing, and fast. He’d finished his residency and was starting his own practice.

As Jerry helped an acne-ridden boy shove plastic into his retina, I twitched sympathetically, and Jerry’s eyes grew dry. Three minutes and seventeen seconds later, Jerry was in the bathroom, staring in the mirror, squirting some eye drops. I dodged the droplets best as I could, and through the clear sheen I heard something before I saw it. A massive black shape, accompanied by an infinitely loud whirring, was making its way directly towards me.

I desperately broke through the surface tension of the liquid just in time to see a massive fly stop midair just before me, and while I was distracted, Jerry squeezed his eye so hard I almost popped right out, and that would’ve been gameover, eternity as a floater on Dr. Isaac Benson’s Wonderful Sights office bathroom floor. I took a second to recover from shock, and then realized that I was face to face with a fly.

Except it wasn’t exactly a fly.

And she was looking just as incredulous as I was.

Simultaneously, we cried out: “Oh for fuck’s sake, you too?”

…

Chuckle

…

And then two green eyes, wide in shock, staring at us in the mirror. Finally.