A Survivor's Guide to Eternity (6 page)

“I agree. Can you remember your last moments yet, Ed?”

“Well, to a point but not really. It’s sketchy. I was driving back to
London
from a business trip. I owned a company that was doing quite well. I was a bit of a wacky inventor and some of my stuff started to get noticed.”

“What sort of stuff?” enquired the fox, sitting upright.

“I had invented numerous things that hadn’t really taken off, but then I invented a really clever unit that melted snow off your shoes before going indoors. It was basically a solar powered box that you would step into. The base was a pressure plate and the weight on it would turn it on, gently close the four sides above your ankles, and streams of hot air would be pumped onto the top, sides and backs of your feet. There were also jets coming out from the footplate underneath to clean the soles. The snow would melt off and disperse through drainage pipes on one side of the device and the feet would be thoroughly warmed in the sixty second cycle. It would then open up, and after you got out it cleaned itself with high powered water jets coming out of all the pipes excluding the footplate. It was a big hit in
Russia
and
Scandinavia
but the real deal maker for me was the solar power system I used. With the use of mirrors, I devised a way to multiply tenfold the power generated by solar panels. That led to the development of my company, ‘CubiZ’, which developed this technology to the next level. It ended up with a translucent cube structure with multiple solar cells and mirrors inside. With the use of the mirrors, the light would be trapped going between the cells numerous times, magnifying the charge. I started doing little portable ones which had a cable and one, two or three plugs as an extension. Then they started to get bigger and bigger until I merged with another company specialising in power generators and we started to develop much more ambitious devices. We had got to the point where music festivals such as
Glastonbury
and Sonicville were using them for most of their onsite power.”

“Fantastic ideas. You must have been worth a few quid then?”

“Well I’d ploughed the majority of it back into the company. Developing the larger units was very troublesome. They would sometimes overheat, even melt in some instances. I was comfortable for sure, but it would have been a few years until I could really have sat back with the mattress full of cash. Things were starting to go well though. As it happens, I became a tortoise instead.”

“Well look on the bright side, at least you’re still naturally powered,” said the fox as he lay back down into reclined luxury on the twigs and leaves.

“Yes, that’s some compensation. Better laughing than crying - that’s if tortoises and foxes could laugh.”

“Anyway, back to my previous question. What can you remember about that last trip?”

“Just flashes, like people holding up big cardboard backed pictures for a second or so and then they’re gone. Snippets and glimpses. I definitely remember getting in the car and driving the 303. I ended up on the M3 heading into
London
. I had numerous annoying texts coming in on my iPhone. That’s all I can remember.”

“In all likelihood you probably crashed your car because you were sending a bloody text. How idiotic can you be? What age were you?”

“I was in my late thirties. Yes, it’s pointing towards something as ridiculous as that. To be honest, if it was a car crash then I’m really glad I can’t remember it.”

“I was in my early fifties. It’s good having this opportunity to discuss things because you can rule certain things out. We were different ages, different religious beliefs and died in completely different ways. It’s very important for us to discuss as much as we can in the next day or so. I realised how important this is after many rebirths. Until I met you, I hadn't met another Transient like I did on my first visit. You are also very lucky to have met me first time, Ed.”

“I can see that.”

“Each encounter is not to be taken for granted. Make the most of it, try and find out if there is any common ground, any rhyme and reason why this might be happening,” replied Sam, twisting and turning in the twigs and leaves, trying to convince himself against the odds that the new position would be more comfortable than the old. A brief silence ensued, pristine and still.
 

“How did you meet your end then?” enquired Ed after a few minutes of watching the fox make minor adjustments to his recumbent position.

“Man, if you think sending a text whilst driving is stupid then you should hear my story.”

“I’m listening,” replied Ed wryly.

“Well, I had gone on holiday with my wife, Elise to Marrakech in
Morocco
. It was such a great place and so different from everywhere I’d been before. The souks and bustling markets with their colourful produce and beautiful carvings, the architecture, the busy crowded streets and squares, it was something else. We went off for lunch to this incredible local restaurant in the depths of the little alleys and walkways. It was on top of a building in the most unlikely of scruffy little streets but was a really refined place with haute cuisine and fine wines. We stayed there for a couple of hours, eating, chatting and drinking, having a thoroughly fine time. My wife read through her guide book, planning where we would go next, and I played with my new camera that I had got especially for the trip.

“Once our food had gone down and we had rounded off everything with a nice Moroccan coffee, we left the restaurant. It was such a world apart that I had completely forgotten about the busy alleys outside. We went down the stairs and out into the mania, momentarily shocked having left the calmness of the restaurant. We started to walk out into the alley and started to wind our way back to the main market area for a bit more shopping. People’s road manners there were a little lacking, and if you weren’t careful you could easily get knocked by a speeding bike or cart. I looked up and saw one of these carts, pulled by a donkey heading towards me at quite a lick. It was a bizarre sight because the guy driving it looked like the grim reaper with a black hooded gown draped over his whole being. He stared down at the donkey’s arse, not concerned at all with the people he was careering past. I immediately whipped out my new camera and started to snap away to get a picture. I thought I had plenty of time to grab the shot from the front and then jump sideways, even though Elise started to shout anxiously for me to get out of the way.

“I snapped two quick shots and just as I was putting the camera down and about to dive sideways, I felt her arm on my shoulder. At the exact same second, I saw that there was a huge scaffold pole poking out from the front of the wooden cart. It came out from the rear, beside the driver, over the top of the donkey and was protuberant by about two feet. Suddenly it was as though I was in front of Lancelot himself in full flow. Sadly for me, the new camera had made it seem as though it was much further away I didn’t have time to react and got smacked in the head with the scaffold bar and then trampled to death and run over by the cart with its wobbly wooden wheels. Definitely not an impressive way to go, killed by a fucking donkey in
Morocco
.”

“That’s insane. It is almost an achievement.”

“Yes, not one I am proud of though. It can’t have been too pleasant for Elise either. God knows how she dealt with that mess. I suppose she must have had to get the body back to the
UK
and everything. A very nasty situation, and all because I was a fucking idiot.”

“You can’t blame yourself though, Sam. Not entirely.”

“Well I’m afraid I do. I hope she’s okay now, maybe with someone else in a new relationship and getting on with her life. It hurts not to know.”

“I can see that would be hard. Did you remember the incident when you came round?” asked Ed.

“Not exactly, just fragments. It all gradually assembles itself though, like a magnetic jigsaw that explodes and then patiently reassembles in the right order. I’m just resigned to it now. There are too many other things to keep me distracted. I must keep moving forward,” stated Sam with an air of sadness in his voice.

“Onward and upward as a Transient, jumping from animal to animal,” he added.

“Indeed! I have a lot to learn about that, Sam.”

“That’s for sure. Anyway, are you hungry? I’m going to pop out and get some provisions. Before you ask, I’m not going to get any slugs or snails for you, so don’t even think about it. I’m going to assume you require a vegetarian meal and will cater accordingly.”

“Okay then. D’you want any help?”

“If by help you mean accompanying me and making me walk at 3 metres an hour then I have to decline. You stay here. You’ll be fine. I’ll be half an hour or so, max. Chill out and relax.”

With this, the fox leapt up and sped from the lair, brush flapping excitedly behind. He knew just what he wanted for supper and where to get it. He headed out into the quickly darkening twilight and up along the path, away from the stream where he had met Ed earlier that day.

“I don’t want bloody slugs or snails anyway,” Ed barked petulantly, way too late for the fox to have heard.

Ed sat quietly in the lair, trying to come to terms with the situation.

“This is such a massively unlikely scenario. Maybe I’m really dreaming after all? Maybe I’ll wake up in a cold sweat and realise it was all one big false alarm? How can it be possible, surviving with my consciousness and getting grafted into another creature? It’s ridiculous. What would it mean to me, my ambitions, loves and desires? Would they all suddenly become completely meaningless? How could it possibly be worth living without those incentives, just eating, shitting and sleeping? It would be totally pointless. We’re driven by our desires and ambitions and pulled into family circles with the gravity of love. I can’t be me without that; more to the point, I don’t want to live without that. This is horrible, the longest and nastiest dream I have ever had. Christ, if I had any hands, I would pinch myself,” thought the tortoise, getting more despondent with every passing moment.

***

Time whittled by, with Ed alone in the lair. He started to worry the fox would never return. An empty nervous feeling brewed in his stomach as he decided to make his way out of the lair to see if Sam was anywhere near. It was dark outside with just the gentle light of a half moon.

Mmmm, is that waxing gibbous?
he thought as he stared up at the stunning celestial body. Just at that moment there was a strange rustling noise down the path. In the half light he couldn’t quite make it out but was sure it was the fox. Even so, he cautiously half retreated into his shell, slightly less nervous, bearing in mind he was planning suicide a day or so later.

The rustling got closer as he began to see a vague silhouette in the distance. It looked mysteriously like a cardboard box coming along the path.

Now that would be taking it one stage too far
, thought Ed, resigned to his temporary reptilian form but keen not to become a cardboard box.

As it got closer Ed backed towards the entrance of the lair. It was indeed a cardboard box. However, he could clearly see that behind it was a proud, bustling brush, erect but flexible as it swooped from side to side.

“Biodegradable, don’t worry, the box is biodegradable,” he heard, barked out from behind the box. At that moment, the forward motion stopped a few yards short, and the fox appeared from around the side.

“It’ll just break down into compost or something,” he added before pushing the box over with his snout.

“I knew you’d be waiting outside. It’s dangerous you know.”

“Well how dangerous can it be for someone… er… for ‘some
thing’
that’s only got a day or so to live anyway?”

“Good point,” replied the fox as one of the items tossed from the box rolled towards the tortoise.

“That’s for you,” uttered the fox, as a big green ball twice Ed’s size rattled against his protective shell, forcing him instinctually to withdraw completely from sight.

“Great,” he said, as he peered out from his shell, his head brushing the outside of the plastic wrapped sphere. He could see the label clearly: ‘Iceberg lettuce.’