déjà vu
by Rycke Foreman
Willie Ackerman was rarely looked upon as a bright guy, and, really, he wasn't. This time, he'd forgot to slip his watch off before he stepped into the shower, failed to notice the way the hair drier teetered dangerously near the edge of the toilet, which--in this saltine box they called an apartment--was nestled right next to the tub.
Fiddling with the taps, he found that perfect temperature between hot and scalding, and pulled up the little lever-thingy to start the shower.
As he reached up to adjust the nozzle--a phenomenon he didn't understand; though he lived on his own, the sprayer’s setting from the previous shower never seemed to be in that just right position--a very unusual occurrence transpired: He actually noticed that his watch was still on his wrist, vaguely remembered the clerk telling him that, unfortunately, this particular model was not water resistant.
Quickly, he unstrapped it, reaching around the curtain to place it on the back of the john. His wrist bumped something solid as he set it down, and Willie had just enough time to hear a hollow thunk! in the bottom of the tub before the bright, blue-white flash of light...
***
But after a few minutes of such a sustained bright whiteness, it seems less like a flash and more like the color of his new surroundings. Strange...
“May I help you?”
Starting slightly, he whirls, searching for the owner of the voice.
Being an angel, the kindly being on the far side of the desk reads the question in the former man’s face with perfect accuracy. The Angel nods kindly, answering before Willie can ask. “Yes, it is. Heaven.”
“Wow. No waiting, huh?”
“They don’t call this Heaven for nothing, William.” Another twitch of confusion, which the angel has only witnessed a couple of million times--humans are always so taken aback when a stranger uses their name out of the blue, even up here.
The Angel gives him a second to process it, considering Willie's next question before he timidly asks: “So, uh...what exactly happened to me?”
“When you set your wristwatch on the back of the commode, you knocked your hair drier into the bathtub with you. You failed to unplug it and put it away yesterday morning.”
“Oh man...” groans Willie, shaking his head. “They always said I’d go that way.”
“Perhaps they have, William, perhaps they have--but you may just prove ‘them’ wrong yet. Your time on Earth has still not come to expire. It seems you are in possession of one very special, ahem...shall we say, seed."
Willie stares blankly.
So a different approach, then: "William, your son-to-be shall play a vital--”
"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, buddy. I think you got the wrong Willie, 'cos I don’t even have a son--”
“Your son-to-be, William. You haven’t even met your bride-to-be yet. Will not meet her, in fact, for another two years, four months and thirteen days.”
Willie hmmms, then asks, “So, uh--what exactly did you say is gonna happen to my son?”
“I’m almost surprised you don’t remember by now,” the angel comments dryly, complementing it with an oh-brother eye roll.
“What do you mean you’re surprised I don’t remember by now? Remember what?”
“Just a little humor to myself. What I mean is that We cannot, of course, allow these kinds of memories to reside within you good folks, no matter how many times you might visit prematurely.” The angel looks upon the man-to-be without judgment and says: “But William, it really is getting a bit ridiculous.”
Willie stares wide-eyed at the glowing being as the gears spin and grind. “You mean I’ve been here before?”
Replying in the same dry tone as earlier (yet this one garnished with a wry smile), the angel replies: “More times than you have fingers...and toes...”
Before the slack-jawed William Ackerman can think of a response, the radiant being presses on. “Well, if you will turn and walk into the yonder, William, I can insure that all of the blessed souls who enter our gates do not find themselves waiting...” The angel points the way.
Nodding, Willie says, “Sure. And thanks...I think.” He turns, but before that first step, he looks over his shoulder at the figure behind the desk. “So, uh--what exactly does my son do that's so important?”
“Suffice it to say that he will single-handedly deliver the Earth from global destruction.”
“No shi--” But Willie catches himself, releasing an embarrassed chuckle. "So who's he gonna save it from? Terrorists? Aliens?"
"You."
"What!?!"
The angle shrugs, for once almost as confused as Willie. "I know, I know--why don't They just leave you here then? Save everyone the trouble?" He sighs. "Well, 'mysterious ways' and all that, right William?"
Willie shoots the angel a crooked, bedeviled grin, then turns
***
to adjust the nozzle--a phenomenon he didn't understand; though he lived on his own, the sprayer’s setting from the previous shower never seemed to be in that just right position--a not-so-unusual occurrence transpired: A tidal wave of déjà vu gushed over him, distracting him with the eerily pleasant, slightly heady feeling that he had already done this exact same thing before. Of course he'd hopped in the shower a couple of thousand times in his life, but...but there was something about this time...
Still puzzling as the feeling began to fade, Willie shrugged it off. He drenched his watch as he repositioned the showerhead, still enjoying the warm, fuzzy mood left by that feeling you can only talk about in French. It seemed to happen all the time--
“More times than I have fingers or toes,” he mumbled, grabbing the soap. It was the first thing to pop into his head. For no particular reason--at least, none he could put his finger on--those words were much funnier than they should have been.
If you would like to view the movie which was the end result of this story, go here.
