After the injection, I began to lose consciousness, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on the lamp hanging from the ceiling, it didn’t help, it blinked twice and went out.
But I recognized the ward from my dream!
And then I was in the cell again. The monk was sitting next to me, watching me.
“What was that?” I struggled to open my lips, numb like anesthetic. “Where am I?”
“In a coma,” the monk replied.
“In a coma?” I looked at him. “That’s why I kept seeing this ward in my dreams! So I’m alive after all?”
“Half alive,” he ‘reassured’ me. “But you can wake up at any moment. Just answer me first, do you still want to go back?”
“Can’t I?” I thought he wanted to warn me about something.
“Of course you can. It’s just that when you’ve thought about it and made a final decision, don’t delay your return. A long coma has never been good for anyone.”
“The doctor said I was unconscious for a week. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is true.”
“But that’s impossible!”
“Time flows differently in the world of the living and the dead,” the monk smiled. “On the Island, many people feel it more densely. Even in life, it can be like that – a week seems like a year, and vice versa. So if you come back now, you can still recover. You may even be able to walk again. But the longer you stay here, the harder it will be for you there.”
“Are you saying that if I stay on the Island, I’ll die back home?”
“You might not die, but you definitely won’t regain consciousness.”
“And then they’ll take me off life support,” I guessed.
“Sooner or later, I suppose,” the monk replied evasively.
I remembered the way The Shadow had rushed me to answer, and I thought it might not be a good ides to rush now. I had to weigh the pros and cons and only then take decisive action.
“I don’t know…” I was a bit silent. “By the way, what about the super prize? Randy kept talking about some kind of palace. Can you at least give me a hint where it is and how long I can stay there?”
“I can’t tell you where it is. But you can stay there as long as you want.”
“Really? A lifetime?”
“If it takes a lifetime, yes.”
“Are you sure I’ll be alive when I get there?” Just in case I asked.
“No doubt about it.”
“What do I have to do there?”
“Whatever you’ve always wanted to do. I assure you, you’ll have everything you need.”
“Wow, that’s great! But the ticket is for two, right?”
“Yes, it is,” the monk nodded. “Have you thought about who you would like to invite on the trip?”
Of course all my thoughts were with Irene. Who would refuse to travel with such a companion? One thing bothered me: we were too different. Suppose I start writing a book, but what will she do? Will she just lie in her room and be bored? Flip through magazines? Surf the web, demand entertainment? That way we’d get bored with each other quickly, or turn everything into a sex trip – well, what else can you do on an eternal vacation with a girl with such skills in that area?
Somehow I was sure that we would have a VIP resort with pools, spas and other delights – maybe because that’s how Randy described it. Then Irene’s presence in that posh paradise would definitely keep me from concentrating on my work.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
And that’s when I thought of Austin. I’m not interested in men, but Austin is an artist, he won’t waste his time, he will paint a lot of pictures that will give people real beauty, just like he dreamed! I’ll have to talk to him about that.
As soon as I left the monk, I rushed to the abandoned hotel to tell him the news about the ticket. The artist listened to me in silence, gazed thoughtfully into the distance through his sunglasses, then took them off, breathed on the glasses, and carefully wiped them with the edge of his Hawaiian shirt.
“Sounds like fun,” he finally said. “It’s like a dream trip.”
“Would you like to come with me?” I put the cards on the table.
He looked at me in surprise, as if he saw me for the first time.
“No, I’m serious,” I said quickly. “This ticket is for two.”
“But why did you come to me and not to her?” He asked after a moment’s hesitation.
“Because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Really? Well, I appreciate that.” Austin put his hand to his heart. “But let me show you something.”
He put the paints in a box and went into the house to get his laptop.
“You know,” he said. “The monk once suggested in conversation that we “dead people” are not so simple, that we are just stuck at a crossroads. I sometimes try to find out where some of the newcomers are from. It rarely works, but…Take it, here’s a link, read it.”
An article appeared on the screen about a girl from Scotland who had been in a car accident a six month ago. She had fallen into a deep coma, and it was not hoped to save her, but suddenly “hopeless” patient opened her eyes and began to respond to sounds, even moved the finger of her left hand. “Recently the girl was transferred to a private rehabilitation center in the north of Scotland,” reported the author of the article. “And although she is still very weak, confined to a wheelchair and does not remember anything, the doctors hope to put her on her feet.”
The picture was of Irene. The hospital photo bore little resemblance to the sassy girl – short haircut, absent, vacant gaze, dark circles under the eyes…What about the story about her head being blown off? Or when you lose consciousness, does it feel like a part of you has actually separated from your body. I experienced something like that when I was dying. Does Irene know she’s alive? I don’t think so. Fortunately or not, there are some things we can’t know about ourselves until certain time.
“Why did you show me this?” I gave Austin his laptop back.
“I thought you should know.”
“What am I supposed to do with this knowledge now?”
“I think you should take her with you,” he replied simply. “That’s what you want to do, isn’t it?”
“What about you?”
“I told you, I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know. What if she wants to go back to Glasgow? I’m not the monk and I can’t show her what awaits her there. Judging from what I’ve read here, nothing good. She has little chances of recovery. It’s a nice super prize – to be a vegetable, huh?”
I imagined Irene coming to her senses, happy that she survived, and then hating this life and wishing she were dead. No, I don’t want to be the cause of her suffering. Maybe she should remain blissfully ignorant. On the Island, at least, she’s a hetaera, a seductress of men, but who will she be at home? A lonely soul lost between two worlds, with no memory, no friends. Even her fiance left her.
“Are you sure you have the right to decide for others?” Austin intervened. “What if you were deprived of the right to choose your own path? Whether she wants to go back to Glasgow or stay here is up to her. But I think she’d follow you to the ends of the earth, if you asked her to.”I sighed heavily. That was the catch. I wasn’t sure if I could go that far myself, and I wasn’t sure if I should ask Irene to follow me. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
To be continued