Chapter Two, Part 1

Please read the prologue, and Chapter One, parts 1 and 2 before you read this, if you haven't already. Thanks!

Chapter Two ~ A Life of Ease

I blinked, stopped brushing mid-stroke. Long, bleached-blonde hair? Not likely!

But I looked at the image in the mirror, and familiar eyes blinked back at me. My eyes, but lined in coal-black smudge, fringed with thick fake lashes and a small glued-on rhinestone next to each eye. I stared at them as they stared at me.

Where am I? How did I get here and am I going to a Halloween party or something? Never have I been so confused, but a flicker in the mirror reminded me – I died! This is my new life. Life-path, or whatever. This can’t be right. I looked around; Death was nowhere to be seen. I sat alone in what clearly could NOT be my life. Sure, this girl resembled me, but Whoa! Whose body is this?

I’ve never been fat, but this body put the “real” me to shame. I wore a skintight miniskirt and the smallest shirt I’ve owned since elementary school, but it sure did show off my fantastic abs. Perfect tone, not an ounce of fat, all tan – Tan! I have never been this tan! I also had never worn these colors, or so few clothes. I started to look around, trying to get my bearings and figure out what and where I was.

The first thing to catch my eye – two shiny perfect honest-to-goodness golden Grammy statuettes. I won a Grammy? Two? I ran eagerly over to them, “Best New Artist” and “Best Female Vocals”! I hated to set them down, but needed more information. All around me were photos of a rock star I slowly realized was me. Me, in front of a band, dressed much like I am. Me on the red carpet at the Grammies, me with various celebrities, me at concerts and one poster size album cover with my face splashed across it. Garish!

“Nettie Rags” I read, and it dawned on me that it was a shortened version of my name, but I couldn’t decide if I found it cute or dumb. I located a copy of the CD with the same cover, checked the song titles. Nothing I remembered writing; titles that hardly sounded like my style.

“Lick Me Once??? Ewwwww!!” But on the inside cover, “all lyrics by Nettie Rags”. I read the lyrics I’d supposedly written. Ugh, really? Oh no, I couldn’t have written that trash! Horrible rhymes about sex and drinking and doing what?? I don’t even know what that means!

I sat down at the vanity with the CD in one hand and looked over the case. For the first time I really looked at the room. This room, apparently my bedroom, could have held most of my old apartment. Shiny new technology glittered from every corner, and the rich dark colors of the room suited my tastes perfectly. As I fixed my gaze on various objects, vague pictures began to form in my mind. I must be starting to get some memories. A stuffed dog in the corner, a man gave that to me. His name was . . . is . . .uh . . . it’s on the tip of my tongue, it’s . . .

The falsely melodious ringing of a cell phone broke my concentration. It’s an odd feeling to not know if the ringing in your bedroom is your phone. I followed the sound to what could only be the very latest cell phone. I almost answered it, but thought better of it. I didn’t recognize the number and I still really didn’t know this me. I’d just say something stupid, make a fool of myself. The sound ended, as though my thought had killed it in my hand.

Standing alone in my unfamiliar room, holding the silenced phone, seeing me who isn’t me in the mirror, I longed for anything familiar and comfortable. Anything, anyone. I realized my eyes had closed, and I thought with all my might DEATH!!! Death, are you here? Hello? I don’t even know where here is!

Scared, confused, and surprisingly tired, I started sobbing. I’m generally not one to cry – it always comes off as so manipulative and useless, but I’d reached the end of my rope. I felt Death arrive before I actually saw him.

“Because this is your first alternate life-path, I choose to help you.” Who would have believed that one could feel such utter relief at seeing Death by your bed?

“Thank you, thank you.” I sniffled, trying futilely to stop the tears. A million questions rammed into each other in my head but none could find its way out of my mouth. Fortunately, I didn’t need to voice one.

“It is the same day and time you left.”which explains why I’m so tired, it must be after 2 a.m. “This is your room and your house, though when you arrive on a new life-path, that will not always be the case. Look for little clues to tell you about this path.”

“I know I’m a singer and I have two Grammies!” Exhausted and befuddled as I was, that still brought a smile to my face.

“Yes. Lovely.” Death is not impressed with awards, “You will probably also want to look for clues to more relevant things, like who is important to you in this life-path. No life-path is without strife, what are this life’s travails? You may take as long as you like to decide, but the longer you are in the life, the further down each path you move. As I told you, memories of this life-path will begin to grow.”

“Michael! That bear over there, a man gave it to me and his name is Michael. Oh, I think I loved him. Do I still? Are we dating?”

“I cannot tell you more than I have. Learn to discover things quickly. If you choose to leave this life-path, make the decision and tell the mirror. I will always hear what you say to the mirror. I will not always come when you call.”

“Thank you for coming this time. I, just. . . . I think I need to go to sleep.”

“I do not believe that is an option. Farewell.” Before I could ask what that meant, Death vanished, leaving not even a hint of his essence behind. It’s an option if I say it is. Now, where are my jammies?

I’d managed to root through 4 dresser drawers before finally finding something comfortable enough to sleep in. Seems in this life-path, I mostly sleep in trashy negligees or perhaps nothing at all. I pulled on what I could only guess were my workout clothes and began to climb into my ridiculously large bed when the cell phone started up again. Thoughtlessly I picked it up.

“Uh, hello?”

“Nettie, where are you? We’ve been waiting 45 minutes!” I knew that voice. A man. Not that Michael, I just sort of knew, but someone I talk to a lot.

“Waiting?” I hated to sound stupid, but couldn’t formulate any better response.

“Oh, hellfire, are you back on the stuff? Look, I’ve been sitting in front of your house in the car making excuses to the TV people for an hour and I know you’re walking around in there, I’ve seen you go by the window.” The voice belonged to . . . Victor! That’s his name. That guy that’s seen me in the bars a few times; said he’s an agent – he could make me rich. I guess he did. That didn’t explain why he was waiting for me this time of night, and for 45 minutes. Back on the stuff? The TV people? None of it meant a thing to me.

“I, uh, I’ve been, uh, getting sick!” I tried not to sound too triumphant – what a lame excuse, but the best I could do at the moment. I made the vilest retching noises I could manage. “Must have been some bad shrimp for dinner.”

“Oh, honey, tell me about it. Where’s Adrian?” That name evoked a very clear picture, my assistant. Oh no, is he here?

“No, it’s his night off.” The words popped out of my mouth before I consciously formed the answer.

“Poor, dear, I’ll cover for you with the TV people, just get better. Want me to send up Francesca?” His voice grated down my spine; the fake caring wrapped in self-concern. Instinctively I knew that he cared more about me as an investment than a person. And since I had no idea who Francesca was, I certainly didn’t want her around.

“No, thanks so much, Victor, but” I stopped to make more puking noises, “I think I’ll take a shower and hit the sack.” After a few more pleasantries, Victor rushed off. I peeked out the window in time to watch a long black car ooze carefully out of the gates at the edge of my driveway.

As I hung up the phone, I noticed the time – 11:32 pm. Again I felt the confusion becoming so familiar to me. Death said I arrived at the same time I’d looked at the display so long it had gone dark and changed twice when I finally figured out the answer – Pacific Time – I’m on the West Coast! Sounds so obvious in retrospect but when you’ve died, found yourself in a different you and it’s really 2 am, well, things aren’t as clear.

The bedroom boasted four closed doors, I couldn’t imagine what they might be. The first revealed a long door-lined hallway – intimidated, I closed it again. The second held a closet, larger than my car and organized like department store. I half-expected to see a check out counter. The third one was another closet, smaller, but all shoes. Well, that does seem like me, I decided, admiring the shelves lined with varying styles and colors, every height of heel and every material conceivable. Now this is a life!! I resisted the urge to take out armfuls of them and start trying them on. The last door led to a cavernous bathroom, which I gratefully stepped into.

Along the far wall a tub you could almost call a wading pool stood beneath a lovely frosted window. Beside it a glass door showed off a shower stall, large enough to hold a regular tub, and boasting a seat and at least 5 showerheads I could see from the entrance. I’d heard the term water-closet somewhere along the line, and so that’s what I decided the stall with the toilet must be. Two sinks lounged in a counter longer than I am tall, among a scattered selection of cosmetics, creams, a hairdryer, curling iron and a few appliances I didn’t recognize. “Takes a lot of stuff to look this good, I guess,” I said out loud, enjoying the faint echo.

I treated myself to a long, steamy bath, having found a book in my bedroom and some lovely scented bath beads. I could have used a cup of tea, but still couldn’t work up the courage to enter that daunting hallway in search of a kitchen. After the bath, I slipped into the bed and fell instantly into the deepest of sleeps. If I dreamt, I don’t remember.