It was night. I stumbled out of bed, not knowing how I got home. The shadows cast in my living room appeared eerie, like every item of furniture had its own soul and it was my privilege to inhabit their space. The light fittings sluggishly writhed with tentacles, waiting to lurch out and grab me when my mind was elsewhere. The coffee table would taunt me, crawling away if I needed to put down a drink. The lounge was ready to swallow me if I dared to sit down. I’d be found with my body shattered into pieces as the sofa chewed my weary bones.
Warwick was right. I was delirious.
Outside, the full moon glared through my curtains, ready to relay every wrong move in my failed love life. What would he know? Who was his lover, the sun? And why did they both exist here in the Afterlife? It made no sense. But nothing here, not even Warwick’s unlikely behavior, did.
I sat cautiously on the sofa, almost waiting for a giant pair of hungry teeth to bite hard and crack my spine. The harlequin money box knew I was being silly. The weary nature of my overactive imagination made its face smirk. I wasn’t in the mood for its cheeky temperament. I was ready to shove a coin not in its usual slot.
As I stared into the ornament’s eyes, my thoughts traveled back to Uncle Bryant. I remembered that we had left him and Pamela with our car as we had decided to visit Tasmania. Warwick and I were entering the elevator of his restored Victorian-era building. Unlike the apartment block, the elevator was added several decades after the building was completed, and had been restored as a stunning art piece. All that was missing was a lift attendant in a navy jacket.
“Your uncle’s found his second youth,” said Warwick.
“I know. There was so much sweet love oozing from them, I needed a shot of insulin.”
“It’s nice to see, though.”
As the doors slid shut, I pressed the G button and waited. Nothing happened. I pressed the button again.
“Looks like it’s feeling a bit sluggish,” I said.
“It’s kind of cozy in here, Allan.”
“Spending the afternoon trapped in an elevator doesn’t sound like fun.”
Two minutes seemed like an eternity. I yelled, pushed buttons, pounded my fists, and yelled some more.
“It’s not helping us,” said Warwick.
“Well, you’re not exactly coming up with any answers.”
He leaned against the lift wall and stared at me, deadpan. We were silent. I had no idea what he was up to, so I stared back like Patricia Neal in The Day the Earth Stood Still, trying to recall Gort’s instructions.
“What are you doing? We have to get out of here and take the stairs.”
Out of the blue, he rested his lips on my forehead and kissed me all the way down to my neck.
“Allan, why don’t you call Uncle Bryant on your phone?”
“That all depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’re going to kiss me again.”
I raised myself on the tips of my toes and shut my eyes. His warm mouth melted into mine, taking me beyond each former fantasy I had about my friend. Soon his hands clutched my cheeks as he slid his lips sideways, licking me with his tongue. I opened my mouth, letting in this welcome intruder, letting mine blissfully taste his.
I pulled away for air. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”
“I have some idea. I’ve seen you give me that look.”
“What look?” He demonstrated. “Really, is that what I look like? That’s more post-orgasm than pre-orgasm.”
“So, are you going to call your uncle?”
I grabbed the back of his neck, lurching him against my mouth. I forced my tongue against his, sliding and tasting as much of this beautiful man as I could. Twelve months of pent-up frustration released in my impassioned embrace. I could have sworn I heard wedding bells. My heart jolted. I lost my footing.
A deafening screech reverberated through our chamber. Our gravity shifted. We were glued to the ceiling with the force of a speeding roller coaster, as the elevator plummeted downward.
Warwick reached out to me, but my hand was pinned against my own Adam’s apple. The lift jerked several times as our airborne state came to an abrupt end. There was the sound of something cracking along with two blunt thuds. I stood up and helped my friend dust himself off. As I adjusted my T-shirt, I saw two souls watching us. One was a 1950s goddess in a cherry-red outfit. The other was an angel who set my gaydar beeping.
“Why are you crying?” yelled the voice from my spare bedroom.
“Who said I’m crying?”
I held my mouth to stop me yelping. My face was drenched in tears.
“Allan, I know you too well.” Guy sauntered into the living area. “It’s the middle of the night, and you’re upset about something.” He wandered into my kitchen and returned with a glass of scotch over ice. “Now drink.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I said ‘drink.’” I gulped a small mouthful. “Frederick and I carried you home. Then I decided to stay the night just in case you needed me.”
“Warwick and I were in love.”
“Allan, regardless of what Monique told you about being soul mates, this whole thing is killing you.”
I howled. My angel chum took the drink from my hand and wrapped his arms around me.
“Our love has killed me already.”
“That’s one way of looking at it. Now calm down, my dear friend.”
“No, Guy. Love killed us the first time around.”
“What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
I didn’t answer. I wept a little more as my pal held me against him. I rested my head on his shoulder; my wet cheek becoming as warm as a blanket.
A soft pink light radiated from his body. He told me not to be frightened and to encompass whatever I felt. His aura danced with a thousand tiny feet against me, urging me to cry out in despair. A sleek black fog blew from my mouth, looking back at me, sad and defeated. It split into many pieces as a jigsaw puzzle would if it fell to the ground. But these fragments hovered, staring into my soul and forcing me to shake uncontrollably.
“Let it go, Allan. Let them go.”
I kissed the air and bid them farewell. They faded with my fear. I whimpered as the angel’s aura spread over me with a gentle caress, before tenderly sinking under my skin. I was adored, and for the first time since birth, the center of my universe.
“Guy, whatever you did, it had to be illegal. It felt too good. Is there any chance we could do that again?”
“One angel love session per customer. But for you, Allan, I’ll see what I can arrange.”
He loosened his grip as I gathered my thoughts.
“I need you to tell me something.” I pulled away and swallowed a little scotch. “From time to time, you’ve let on to little facts about our previous life. Just how much do you know?”
“Why do you ask?”
“My dear angelic friend, don’t answer my question with another question.” I took a deep breath. “When we first arrived, you seemed to know that amateur theater was a hobby of ours. You stumped me in knowing about a movie I was going to be in. You even knew it was well financed, something I had no inkling of. Plus you’ve been supportive of me from the start, even helping me get together with Warwick when you were stoned.” I paused. “Hmm, what am I really trying to say?” I took another sip. “Guy, I’m surrounded by a nineteenth-century actress, a creative young playwright from the 1970s, a bitter blonde bombshell from the 1950s, and a creepy Casanova from early last century. And there’s you, of course, the all-knowing angel!”
“I know,” he replied.
He casually moseyed back to the kitchen.
“No, but Guy, you’re my angel!”
“I get it, Allan. I’m an angel.”
“And then there’s 1930s Nellie, the drag king who’s like a portable music player.”
“That one’s just coincidence.”
He returned with a glass of scotch for himself and sat next to me again.
“Guy, are you my guardian angel?” I tried to read his face. “Guy, you’ve been so kind to me. In a way, you’ve become my best friend. The way Warwick was before we…” A sinister d word was stuck at the back of my throat.
“Allan, here at the Limelight Quarter, I was sent to keep an eye on you both. You were beginning your lives as soul mates before that tragic elevator incident. You were supposed to fall in love, but not all plans go the way we intend them, not even here.”
“What happens when they don’t go to plan?”
“Then you have to live it all over again in your next life. Every heartache, every argument, and every lost opportunity.” He shook his head. “Not the greatest outcome, I know, but I think that’s why I started pushing you toward Warwick against my better judgment.”
“But Monique said we’d walk aimlessly here if we didn’t get together. You were doing the right thing.”
“Was I, Allan? Look what happened last night. Everything got too much for you, so you passed out. I should have seen it coming.”
We sat in silence and drank our scotch. A pale pink glow lit the apartment, while the harlequin money box greeted me with a sympathetic smile.
“I love you very much, Guy. You and Maudi are my best friends now. But there’s something I need to know. You just mentioned the elevator, yet I didn’t say anything about it.”
“I worked out why you were crying a moment ago.”
“So you never watched over us when we were alive?”
“I don’t know who your guardian angels were back then, but whoever they were, they should have never let you enter that elevator.”
“Why didn’t I remember what happened when I first got here?”
“Just as you never remember what happens immediately before birth, you also forget what happens just before death. Otherwise, the Afterlife would be full of trauma counselors.”
“I think I need a trauma counselor now. Guy, I’m dead.”
“A little before your time, might I add. That’s why you’ve been in denial.”
“Hmm. So has Warwick.”
“Yes, Allan. He found his own unique way to cope.”
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt control over my own affairs.
“So how do Pedro and Samantha fit in to everything that’s happened to us?”
“My friend, like in life, you’re all brought together at this point in time, regardless of when you existed in mortal terms. Some souls are more advanced than others. You’re closer to knowing yourself.” Guy paused. “You and Warwick also appreciate the importance of other people; others don’t. Samantha and Pedro continue to play out the self-centered dramas they didn’t reconcile in life. It’s called unfinished business.”
“And Warwick and I had our unfinished business as well, but we got sidetracked. I guess people are just as confused in death as they are in life. What a sobering thought. Gloria’s son wrote his erotic memoirs in a play, and Maudi found new love beyond Lord Edward what’s-his-name. And all of us are still trapped in the theater. What a set of drama queens!” I placed my arms around my angel chum and held him tighter than I ever had. “Tell me something. Can soul mates also be friends, apart from lifelong partners?”
“Of course.”
“So I’ve known Maudi and Gloria’s son before, maybe even Pedro and Samantha?”
He pulled away from me.
“Allan, I have no idea. Maybe they’re important in your next life? I don’t know. I only met you when you arrived at the Limelight Quarter. I got my briefing about you both, and was told to keep an eye on you, long before the deceitful duo showed their true colors. I may even watch over you when you return to mortality.”
“As long as you continue to keep an eye on me here,” I replied.
I held him again.
“I’ll be here, Allan. I’ll be here. Or I’ll be following you to the Grand Sector or the Lost Souls, wherever you decide to settle.”
I broke our embrace quicker than a boy losing his cherry.
“How did you know I was considering leaving the Limelight Quarter? I’ve never mentioned that to anyone.”
Guy flapped his wings.
“Allan, for goodness sake, I’m an angel!”