Choices

The rain battered the bright yellow umbrella on a brisk Tuesday night, placing Lettie in a trance. Rain is rare in Southern California, but when it came it was beautiful. Lettie stood with closed eyes and inhaled the saturated asphalt smell that filled the street. She could never get enough of the rain. But she had a job to do. Removing herself from the trance, she eyed the house that laid before her. It was a small creaky home with peeling yellowed cream paint and a dirt lawn encaged by a rusty chain-link fence, a small gate in front of her. The gate opened with a deafening squeal as she made her way to the old house that had aged from decades from lazing in the scorching summers. She followed a cement pathway to the front door and noticed a deflated children’s pool and various rusted and dismantled bicycles sitting by the corner of this little home. Children were loved and invited at one time in this place.

Lettie gently pushed the front door open, closing her yellow umbrella as she entered the house. She gazed around the home as she shook her umbrella and placed it by the door. It was surprisingly cozy inside. A bit messy, but cozy nonetheless. It was crowded with chunky couches stuffed with gemstone colored pillows and blankets with a large unorganized bookshelf, each shelf stacked to the brim with novels. Lettie made her way to the bathroom. She had never been inside this home before, but she was always drawn to where she needed to be.

Down the hall and to the left is where she found the body. Technically first she found the blood and then she found the body. A red liquid was slowly seeping out from under the door, staining her brown suede boots. Lettie made her way into the flooded bathroom to find a dark-haired woman with cappuccino skin in the bathtub soaking in rose-red water. The faucet still running. Reaching over, Lettie turned off the faucet and examined the woman. She looked relatively young and very beautiful. What a shame.

Lettie couldn’t understand the complexity of human emotions that would lead someone to this fate, but that also wasn’t her job. She turned to face the mirror that sat above a small porcelain sink and stared into her dark green eyes. She focused until her sight became fuzzy and the edges of her vision began to blur.

A cold rush came upon her. Suddenly, there was movement coming from the kitchen. She breathed deep and toed through the rose water. She made her way to the living room and peered into the kitchen. A woman with dark hair and cappuccino skin was sifting through the cabinets.

Lettie called out, “Hello?”

The startled woman sprang back, catlike, “Who are you? What are you doing in my home?”

Lettie stood her ground, resting her hands on the top of the cozy couch. “I’m here to help you.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “You died.”

The woman’s face scrunched tightly and she shook her head. “No… I …I don’t understand. I was going to make dinner and dessert for my children…”

“I’m sorry, you are dead.” The woman’s face searched for the meaning of her words. “What’s your name?”

“Fernanda.” She whispered. She reached for her golden necklace, toying the pendent. Lettie loved seeing the unconscious quirks of humans, these small unique movements that belong solely to them. 

She leaned against the cabinets, realization crossing her face. “I … I remember…” Fernanda glanced up to Lettie, “Was I in the tub?” Lettie nodded. Fernanda lowered her gaze, nodding slowly. “Yes, I remember.”

Lettie stepped closer. “Would you like to see?”

She shook her head, “No. No, I remember what I did.” Tears brimmed her eyes but did not fall. She brushed her curls behind her ears and stood up straight. “Who are you then?”

“I am Lethe. But you can call me Lettie. I am here to help you pass.”

“Lethe?” Fernanda asked, “I thought I’d be in heaven or something. Well, hell probably after all this mess.”

Lettie smiled, “I’ve been around far longer than any heaven or hell.”

Fernanda sighed and opened the cabinet behind her pulling out a yellow package. “Want some hot chocolate? It’s my favorite, Abuelita hot chocolate.”

“Of course.” Lettie watched as Fernanda pulled a small pot out, filled it with milk, and placed the thick disc of chocolate in. Whisking and heating the aroma of sweet chocolate filled the room. “Grab a seat, I’ll bring it over in a second.”

Lettie moved to the larges couch and sat, the thing almost swallowing her up. Fernanda returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. The mug warmed her chilled fingertips and she could feel the heat of the chocolate slide down into her belly. In other circumstances, this would be the perfect night in. They sat in silence, taking in this comfort.

Lettie was the first to speak, “Fernanda, as I said, I’m here to help you pass. I am here to provide you with three options.” Fernanda shifted in her seat. “You will be reborn into the next life.”

Lettie reached into the inside of her jacket pocket and pulled out two vials. “One” she placed a silver-tinged vial on the coffee table, “will allow you to move into your next phase without memories of this one.” She placed a gold-tinged vial next to it. “The other will allow you to maintain your memories and experiences, you’ll carry them with you.”

Fernanda eyed the bottles. Reaching out, she gingerly picked up the silver bottle watching the glimmering liquid move. “It looks like liquid mercury.” She swirled it around, leaning back into the couch. “Who are you, really?”

Lettie interlaced her fingers and rest them on her lap. “Oh, I am many things. I am a magnificent river in the Underworld. I am the daughter of Eris, the sister of many plagues of humanity. I am the goddess of forgetfulness.”

“Not human.” Fernanda stared in the wonder of her.

Lettie laughed and nodded. “Yes, most definitely not human.”

“What would you choose?”

“I have not been asked that in centuries,” Lettie replied. Considering the two vials before her she reached for the silver. “There is a sweet bliss of forgetfulness. A refreshing beginning.” She delicately grasped it, a longing aching in her.

“Who would I be? Will I still be me?” Fernanda asked, breaking the vial’s spell.

“You will have a new physical form, but your essence will always be yours.” She placed the silver vial into Fernanda’s palm.

Fernanda picked up the gold vial in her other hand, “What about this? Remembering everything?”

“That, I’m afraid tends to be a bit difficult to bear.” Lettie crossed her legs. “It is the burden of philosophers and theologians that oftentimes end in misery. Knowledge, turning into madness. It is something to carry with you, the unraveling knowledge of the infinite.”

Fernanda placed it down. She had been worn away slowly like the ebbing tide against a cliff, taking bits and pieces with it as waves crashed. Eventually, there’s just nothing left. “What’s the other option? You said three, but only showed me two.”

“The last, I’m afraid is a bit more… permanent.” Lettie replied, pulling out a third vial. This vial was tinged blue with specks of shimmering gold, like lapis lazuli. “If you do not choose the first two options, the last option would be cessation of the cycle.” Fernanda’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “You, your essence, would be released. Back into the universe, as it were.”

Fernanda toyed with the pendant at her neck. “Would it be painful?” Lettie shook her head.

The silence between them felt like centuries, though it could very well have only been a minute. For Lettie, time was of no consequence. Her existence was immeasurable, no end, no definite beginning. She just always was. Sometimes she envied their humanity. She envied the chance to forget and be reborn. Though she takes many forms and has been subject to ancient prose, she desired to be more than an idea. Existence loses all meaning when there is no end in sight.

Fernanda cleared her throat, “I think I know.” Lettie looked at her eagerly. “I would like to forget. Start over.”

“Of course.” Lettie nodded and removed the remaining vials. “You’ll drink this and you will start anew.” Lettie smiled at her and stood up. “May I ask you one question?”

Fernanda nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Why, after ending your mortal life, would you want to go back?”

Fernanda considered her question. “To be honest, I was a monumental fuck up. I had disappointed those who I loved the most because I was so selfish. Because I enjoyed being high than being with my kids.” Fernanda’s eyes welled up with tears. “I could never get my shit together. No matter how much I tried. I just couldn’t say no to the rush, to the adrenaline. To the lifestyle.” She wiped away the tears that fell. “But, I remember the spray of the ocean as I basked in the sunlight all day long. The laughter of my son when he first saw bubbles.” She laughed. “I remember the good things that were shadowed by my choices.”

“A chance to try again.” Lettie said.

“Yes.” Fernanda smiled. “I have hope for the first time in so long.”

“That hope will carry on with you.” Lettie placed a hand on her shoulder. “Enjoy your new life.” She made her way to the front door and picked up her yellow umbrella.

Fernanda uncapped the vial and took a cautionary sniff. “It won’t taste like metal if that’s what you’re wondering.” Lettie called to her as she opened the door, stepping out into the rain.

“What will it taste like?”

“Like one of your favorite drinks.” Lettie responded, opening her umbrella.

Fernanda took a sip, her lips widening into a bright smile. “It tastes like my mom’s champurrado… I haven’t had it since I was a kid.”

Lettie smiled and closed the door behind her stepping onto the wet porch. Much to her dismay, it had stopped raining. She sighed, tucked her umbrella under her arm, and stared into the sky. The clouds had since passed to reveal sparse sparkles in the dark despite the suffocating city lights. Lettie placed her hands in her pockets and fingered what she knew was the blue-tinged vial, a discarded choice. What would nothingness feel like? What would happen if infinity became finite? She had seen death, known a lover’s kiss and the loss of it. She had seen the expansive universe in its entirety. Lettie popped open the vial and inhaled. It smelled earthy and sweet, reminding her of fires surrounded by orators telling tales of Aeneas, Odysseus, and Theseus to a group of eager listeners.

Timidly, she brought the vial to her lips, inhaling the past.

A white flash lit up the night, startling her. A roaring thunder ripping through the silence.

She then felt wet drops fall upon her face, slowly and then finding its pace.

Lettie laughed and capped the vial.

Maybe one day she’d discover the answers to her question, but not now.

Not today.