by Greg Krojac
He lunged at it as if it were a live hand grenade threatening to blow him up and hurriedly pressed the attend call button without even looking to see who the call was from.
The phone spoke to him.
“Send a text to this number with the reply ‘YES’ to take part in a competition to win a brand new 4x4 off-road vehicle.”
He pressed the disconnect button and gripped the phone hard. Forgetting that he wasn’t alone he held it in front of his face and snarled at it.
“Why the fuck do you bloody marketing companies keep calling me with this crap!”
The grey-haired pensioner who had been telling him about how she’d been a housekeeper at a stately home in the late nineteenth century looked sympathetically at him.
“We never had trouble like that when I was working at the manor house. Mind you, we didn’t have telephones in them days.”
Aaron looked at her, giving her a wry smile, all the while thinking that she’d been watching too much Downton Abbey on TV. He counted to ten silently and proceeded with his interview. He was about to call his third subject into the room when the landline telephone rang. This time he did his best to remain calm and removed the receiver from its cradle.
“Hello.”
“Hello. Is that Aaron? Aaron Hunt?”
“This is Doctor Aaron Hunt. Who’s calling please?”
Aaron was aware that he sounded more like a company receptionist than the research scientist he was, but he was trying hard to hold in the excitement and anticipation that he was feeling that day.
“Try to stay calm, Aaron. It’s Jake Griffiths. Well, Jake Griffiths as was. I’m someone else now.”
Aaron nearly shouted out loud, then he bit his lip hard to stop that from actually happening. There was nobody else in the room but he felt embarrassed at the way he was reacting. It was like he was six years old again and had woken up just in time to see Santa Claus placing his gifts at the foot of the Christmas tree. He was beside himself with excitement. Was this really happening? Was he about to be given proof that his life’s work wasn’t in vain? He didn’t even stop to consider that he’d put so much wasted effort into proving reincarnation and that he was going to have reincarnation proved by someone else. He’d been chasing rainbows. But he was in too good a mood to think about such things. He was beaming, whilst still hoping that this wasn’t some elaborate prank.
“Aaron? Are you still there?”
The scientist gathered his thoughts.
“Yes. I’m still here. Sorry about that. I just couldn’t believe that you’d called.”
“Well, I have. I want you to meet me at the car park we visited at Maidenhead Thicket in two hours’ time. Can you do that? No balloon, no blindfold this time.”
Aaron was starting to believe. He didn’t recognize the voice at all. But the voice obviously knew that he’d been taken to Maidenhead Thicket all those years ago and especially that a blindfold had been involved. Things were looking promising.
“I’ll be there.”
“OK. Two hours then. I assume I don’t need to tell you to come alone.”
“Of course. It goes without saying.”
“See you there then. Don’t be late.”
It was at times like this that Aaron was pleased that his mid-life crisis – as his wife, Susan, like to call it – had led him to buy himself a motorcycle. A Yamaha 650cc Dragstar. He was sixty years old now and liked the idea that sixty was nowadays considered the new forty. He certainly didn’t feel sixty. The Yamaha was a beautiful machine. Aaron kept it in pristine condition, paintwork polished and chrome shining, even though he often used it for his commute to work. He was glad he’d decided to use it today; he’d been given a two-hour deadline and he’d rather have been late for his own funeral than be late for this rendezvous. Today, traffic jams wouldn’t be a problem. He walked over to a tall cupboard and took out his silver full-face helmet and the deep brown leather jacket that he’d bought at the Hard Rock Café in Rio de Janeiro several years earlier. He liked the weight of the jacket on his body; he felt like a real biker when he wore it. Once dressed for his journey he took a few deep breaths before heading to the lift for the seven floor trip to the garage where his trusty steed was waiting for him, but not before telling his assistant to cancel all other meetings and interviews for that day.
“Please give them my profuse apologies and explain that I have urgent personal business to attend to. And, of course, reimburse the expenses of those that you can’t get in touch with.”
***
The ride to Maidenhead Thicket was pleasant enough. It was a mild spring day and Aaron liked the sense of freedom that riding a motorcycle gave him. Traffic was light and he actually arrived at his destination early. Far too early in fact, but this didn’t worry him. He’d been waiting twenty-five years for this day to arrive and he’d rather be early than late.
Several cars were already parked in the gravel car park; dads with children on an access day, young couples taking their dogs for a walk, elderly couples reminiscing. Aaron was admiring a particularly energetic German Shepherd dog chasing a Frisbee when he felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned round to see a well-dressed, bespectacled young black man in his early twenties.
“Hi, Aaron. I’m Thomas McCall, but you can call me Tom.”
“And I know you because?”
Aaron wasn’t going to play along straightaway, even though he was almost certain that this was the man whose return he had been eagerly awaiting for a quarter of a century.
“You know me because we’ve met before. Except that you knew me as Jake Griffiths then. Twenty-five years ago.”
“OK, Tom. So you wanted to meet up with me because?”
“Because – as you know – I’m going to give you conclusive proof that when we die we are then reincarnated in a different body.”
Aaron thought to himself that if this man didn’t do so, it would be one of the most time-consuming hoaxes in history. Tom turned to leave.
“Are you coming?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s go then. I’ll lead the way.”
“You better had. I still have no idea where the safe is. I want this to work.”
“It’s not a case of it working or not, Aaron. It’s a scientific fact. I am Jake reincarnated. I am Simon reincarnated. I am Ruth reincarnated. I am many, many others reincarnated. It’s just a question of you being convinced.”
Aaron suddenly remembered something.
“We’re forgetting something. What’s the code word?”
“Rembrandt.”
Satisfied with the response, Aaron walked alongside Thomas as the two of them took the same path that he and Jake had taken twenty-five years earlier, Tom leading Aaron like a sniffer-dog might lead its handler. The difference on this day is that Aaron was free to see where he was going. It felt like a more direct route to him but that’s because it was. This time there was no need for any detours.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking they took a sudden right turn to be faced with a wildly overgrown area of brush. Tom reached into his pocket and drew out a pair of secateurs. He looked at Aaron.
“Twenty-five years is a long time. I came prepared for twenty-five years extra growth.”
“Very sensible. I don’t know if I’d have thought of that.”
“I try to be meticulous.”
The secateurs proved their worth. The progress of the pair of modern-day treasure hunters was slow, as they were decidedly not dressed for traipsing through this kind of habitat, but they weren’t to be beaten. Finally, surrounded by a natural fortress of thorns and barbs, Tom stopped.
“We’re here.”
Aaron tried to look for the door to the safe, but couldn’t see anything but a mass of hostile foliage.
“It’s under that tangle of surface roots.” Tom pointed at the ground right in front of them. Aaron still couldn’t see anything resembling an entrance door.
“Are you sure?”
> “As sure as night follows day.”
Tom attacked the roots with the secateurs, but more carefully this time. Twenty-five years of rain, even though largely protected from the elements by Mother Nature herself, could have rendered the explosives unstable. However, he didn’t share that possibility with Aaron; if Aaron was going to die it was better that he didn’t know beforehand.
At last, the area above the safe was cleared and Aaron found himself looking at something he’d not seen for twenty-five years. He felt relieved that this wasn’t all a crazy dream. Tom rubbed his hands together and then cracked his knuckles.
“Ready?”
Aaron took a deep breath.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Right, I’m going to open the safe now. Remember, there are forty-eight numbers, and they must be selected in the correct order.”
“I remember. But what if they get jammed? It’s been a long time.”
“I’ve got some WD-40 with me. Hopefully, that’ll do the trick if it’s a bit sticky. Plus, to make sure that nothing goes wrong I’ll cross my fingers and hope.”
Aaron couldn’t understand how Tom could remain so calm when there was such an obvious element of mortal danger. He thanked his lucky stars that he’d written his will and all his affairs were in order. But there was no reason for Tom to be afraid; he’d lived and died and lived again many times before. Death held no fear for him.
Tom started the task of unlocking the combination. He began by selecting the first number on the first dial. Then it was the turn of the fourth dial at the other end. Two numbers selected and they were still alive. Forty-six to go.
Next, he turned the third dial six clicks to the right. The sound of the lock mechanism gradually disengaging seemed very loud against the blank silence that enveloped the area. The only other thing that Aaron could hear was his own breathing. No birds singing. No insects rustling around.
The tension was almost unbearable. Aaron felt a desire to talk to Tom, to feel that time hadn’t slowed down or even stopped, but the last thing he wanted to do was to distract him. There were plenty more numbers to be selected, and a certain order in which to select them, so he didn’t want to distract the man from his task. It really was a matter of life or death.
Time seemed to be passing at a snail’s pace. Each time a number was chosen and was safely turned into place Aaron gave an inaudible sigh of relief that he was still alive.
Finally, there was only one number left to select. Tom looked at Aaron.
“Do you want to do it?”
Aaron shook his head and gestured that he was perfectly happy for Tom to continue.
“No thanks. You’ve done a good job so far. I don’t want to be the one who blows us up.”
Tom turned the third dial seven places to the left. Tom leapt backwards as the safe door flew open just as quickly as it had done twenty-five years earlier. Tom grinned at his accomplice.
“Stage one complete. No casualties. Okay. Now, I’m not going to touch anything from now on. That’s your job. That way nobody can accuse me of any sleight of hand. This will only add to the integrity of the proof that you’ll see. Put your hand in and pull out what’s inside. There should be a plastic document wallet, remember?”
Aaron pulled out the wallet that had been tossed into the safe in 1990.
“Open it. There should be a document verifying your signature, with the registration number of the car you had at the time. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“Is there a photo inside the safe?”
“Yes. It’s an old Polaroid.”
“Yes, Aaron. What they call now a ‘selfie’ of you and me. Well, you and Jake.”
“Yes, it’s here.”
“Now, there’s another piece of paper in the document wallet. I want you to read it – not aloud – as I tell you what’s written on it.”
“Okay.”
“Make sure you read it carefully. There are punctuation marks and numbers inserted randomly to prevent coincidence.”
“Go ahead.”
“A squat grey building of only thirty-four storeys – full stop – Mister one – comma – two – ninety-five - Foster – open parenthesis that’s – decimal point - abbreviated to Mr. – close parenthesis – was left in the Decanting – dollar sign - Room – full stop – Outside – comma – in the – asterisk – question mark - garden – comma – it was playtime – full stop - the lift was crowded with men from the Alpha Changing Rooms – comma – and Lenina’s entry was greeted – per cent sign - by many friendly nods and smiles – full stop – by eight o’clock the – ampersand - light was failing – full stop”
Aaron was having trouble following. If it’d been a straight piece of text it would have been much easier, but Tom was also reciting punctuation – punctuation that had no right to be there.
“Can you repeat that, please? I got a little lost. I recognise it as being from Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World but you made some strange additions.”
Tom repeated what he’d just said. Unbelievably it was exactly what was on the piece of paper that Aaron was holding in his hand.
“Do you believe me yet?”
“I’m getting there. I acknowledge that I have no other explanation for what’s happening. If it’s a trick it’s a bloody good one. I think even Penn and Teller would have difficulty in debunking what I’ve just witnessed. First, you knew where the safe was. Second, you knew the very intricate combination to the safe, including what order to select the numbers, and third you knew what was in the safe and what was written on the papers that were inside. Including the misplaced punctuation. I have to admit, short of experiencing reincarnation myself, it’s very convincing.”
“Well, you have experienced reincarnation Aaron, we all do. It’s just that you’re not one of us. You’re not a Recarn. You don’t remember past lives.”
“I wish I did.”
“A mixed blessing, Aaron. A mixed blessing. Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ll just deactivate the Semtex first – don’t want it to blow up and spoil things do we?”
Tom disabled the bomb and put the explosives into a holdall that he’d brought with him, specifically for that purpose. Aaron suddenly remembered the dice.
“What about the dice?”
“What dice?”
“The dice that you – if you really are, were, Jake– threw into the safe.”
“I’m just messing with you, Aaron. I haven’t forgotten. Do you remember the colour and number combinations?”
“Yes.”
Tom took a blank piece of paper and a ballpoint pen from his pocket.
“I’m going to write down the numbers and colours of the dice. Then I’ll fold the paper so that you can’t see what I’ve written and I’ll also give you the pen. Assuming that you remember the colour of each dice, the numbers that were thrown, and the order that they were thrown in 1990, we’ll be good to go.”
Once Tom had written down the details, folded the paper, and handed Aaron the pen, Aaron recited how the dice had fallen twenty-five years earlier.
“Red, five. Blue, three. Yellow, six. Green, five. Black, one. White, four.”
“Open the paper, Aaron. Does that agree with what I wrote down just now?”
Aaron read what Tom had written. Everything was correct.
“Right then. Time to go. There are more surprises in store - but not today.”
Back at the car park, the two men shook hands. Tom started to walk away but turned and called out.
“I’ll be in touch soon, Aaron. Very soon.”
CHAPTER FOUR
08:05 THURSDAY 21 MAY 2015
Aaron’s phone rang, but this time he was calmer when he answered it.
“Aaron speaking.”
The voice at the other end of the line was the one he’d been hoping to hear.
“Aaron, its Tom. Tom McCall. Have you been thinking about what happened last Friday?”
“To be honest, I’ve though
t of little else. It’s not every day that someone comes back from the dead, as it were.”
“Not ‘come back from the dead’, Aaron. ‘Is reborn into another body’ is more accurate. And it is every day that it happens. Every day, every hour, every second. It even happened to you.”
“Why can’t I remember my past lives? Why do you get to remember yours?”
“I honestly don’t know, mate. Nobody does. And when you do remember it’s not plain sailing anyway. Remember, I told you I went off the rails for a while. It can freak you out.”
“So what happens now?”
“Well, to be honest with you, you weren’t the only person we let peep behind the curtain. It was important for us to come out to science but we needed to go a bit further than that. We needed to involve the media.”
“The media?”
“Of course. If we’re going to let the world in on our little secret, we need the media to help us do so.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? It could cause panic.”
“I doubt it, Aaron. And think about it for a moment. If you’d been able to prove reincarnation as a fact using your methods, would you have kept it to yourself?”
“Probably not. No, definitely not. Otherwise what would have been the point of my research?.”
“We needed scientific confidence to convince the world, and the media is our conduit. Don’t worry, we’ll give you the credit.”
“I’m not worried about that, Tom. I’m just worried about the reaction.”
“I’m sure it’ll be a relief to many people. Instead of wondering what happens when we die, instead of fearing death, people can enjoy their lives, safe in the knowledge that they’ll be reborn - only this time they won’t have ancient books telling then they’ll go to a special place. They’ll have modern day proof.”
“I don’t know. It’ll change so much. It’ll change the way that people think. You tell people that Heaven doesn’t exist and you could have a riot on your hands.”
“But isn’t that the role of a scientist, Aaron? To change the way people think? Imagine if people still believed the world was flat or that the sun revolved around the earth. Imagine if people still thought that illness and disease were caused by an imbalance of the humours? The world has a right to know, Aaron.”