The Ups and Downs of Being Dead

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The Ups and Downs of Being Dead Page 21

by M. R. Cornelius


  They hustled toward the throngs of people already scouring the streets of Georgetown for adventures and bargains.

  Suzanne was the first to spot a young couple snapping helmets on before mounting motor scooters.

  “Let’s go with them,” she said. “We can see what’s on the island.”

  She immediately climbed on the back of the man’s scooter. His cut-off jeans rode high on his tanned thighs. His shirtless chest showed the well-defined lines of muscles, probably from hours spent in a gym.

  Suzanne wagged her eyebrows at Robert as she pretended to snake her arms around the man, so Robert climbed on behind the blonde-haired blue-eyed girl and planted his palms on her breasts.

  “Let’s go!” he called.

  As they headed east, the traffic congestion eased, and the shopping district gave way to high-end private homes along the beach. Eventually, the string of million-dollar villas turned to tropical forest. The farther they got from the docks, the more relaxed Robert felt.

  One thing was certain. He was not going back on that ship. Suzanne could sail off into the sunset, but he was done with cruising.

  At the east end of the island, the young couple parked their scooters and cut through a hotel to the beach beyond. The white sand was dotted with colorful umbrellas and sunbathers. Beyond, an azure blue sea glistened.

  “Oh, this is fabulous,” Suzanne said, her body tilting forward as she walked like she was being pulled by a magnet. “And just think, Robert. You won’t burn up with the heat or get sand between your toes.”

  She gave him a smirky little smile and kept walking.

  Out on the ocean, a loud boat growled as it shot through the water. A rope tethered to the back of the boat rose high in the air to where some fool dangled from a parachute.

  Suzanne squealed. “Oh, let’s do that!”

  “Be my guest,” he mumbled as he made a beeline for an empty beach chair.

  “Oh, come on Robert,” she said. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “Back on the ship.”

  “Well, I’m going,” she said, like she was daring him to stop her.

  “I know you are,” he said, waving a hand. “Go.”

  She turned with a huff and jogged down the beach to the cabana where a few others were signing up to tempt fate.

  Robert watched her climb onto the boat. She was the only passenger without the puffy orange life vest. The water churned as the boat zipped away down the beach. A few minutes later, Robert saw a purple and green parasail climb slowly into the air. By the time it was parallel with him, the chute was high in the air, carrying a man with red swim trunks, and Suzanne, perched on his shoulders like one of those women from an old Esther Williams movie.

  Robert shook his head.

  At the far end of the beach, the boat made a wide turn and came back, slowing so that the parachute gently lowered the man with red trunks into the shallow water.

  With a big grin on her face, Suzanne sprinted back to Robert.

  “That was fantastic!” she said. “You should see the shoreline from up there, and the beach, the water. It’s beautiful.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “No you can’t. You’re nothing but a fuddy-duddy.” She parked her fists on her hips. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

  “Hey, I climbed the Statue of Liberty with you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s like riding the ferris wheel.”

  “So, what? Are you going to badger me all day because I won’t parasail?”

  “Maybe,” she said. But he saw a glint of humor in her eyes.

  “All right, all right.” He slapped has palms on his knees and stood. “But if that rope breaks, and I’m blown far out to sea, and you never hear from me again, you just remember it was all your idea.”

  “Dear God,” she muttered. “I can only imagine what you were like alive.”

  The guide on the boat reviewed the instructions for this surfer dude in a flowered bathing suit that hung halfway down his shins. Robert wondered if the guide thought the kid was stoned.

  Robert had his own misgivings. The kid just kept saying ‘yeah, man’ and ‘no pro-blem-o’ to whatever the guide said.

  But then the kid leaned back, the boat took off, and the next thing Robert knew, they were lifting up into the air.

  It was like Suzanne said. The beach was beautiful from up high, and Robert could see the island sprawled out to his right. The problem was that there was no exhilaration, no rapid heartbeat, no surge of adrenaline. Those were the things that made taking chances so thrilling.

  Now if he was Surfer Dude, Robert could feel the rush of wind on his face, taste the salt from the air on his lips. Riding on the kid’s back made him feel like a sissy.

  He was leaning down, sort of looking through the kid to the water below, when suddenly Robert felt the distinct fluttering of long hair. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he could definitely smell the twang of salt air.

  He quickly looked around, but nothing had changed. And yet everything had. Robert definitely heard the kid repeating a mantra. “This is cool. I’m not going to die. This is cool.”

  “What the hell?” Robert said.

  “Holy Shit!” the kid screamed.

  He went berserk, jerking in his harness to look behind him, and nearly letting go of the handlebar. He looked overhead, and down at his feet. His heart was racing so hard it almost hurt.

  Then as quickly as Robert felt the wind, it stopped, and he found himself floating in the air behind the parachute, as though he’d been left behind.

  He was still puzzling over the incident when he got back to Suzanne.

  She smiled and shook her head.

  “How did you manage to fall off?” she asked. “It’s not like a gust of wind blew you.”

  “I didn’t fall,” he said. “I think I got in him. Like…in his head.”

  “You did not.”

  He nodded, still unsure himself.

  “I think I did. I could feel his hair blowing. The air was hot. I could smell the ocean.”

  Suzanne let her head dip to one side. “You were in his head.”

  “I could feel his heart pounding. He was trying to keep himself calm, but he was a little scared.” Robert thought back. “Then I said something and he just freaked out. And the next thing I knew, I was floating in the sky.”

  Her mouth crooked to the side. “In the sky.”

  “Yeah. Like he kicked me out.”

  “I want to see this,” she said.

  They traipsed back to the cabana.

  Suzanne chose a newly-wed couple so she could be right next to Robert in a two-seat harness.

  “Unbelievable,” Robert said. “They just got married and already they’re willing to plunge to their deaths.”

  Suzanne shot him an evil eye, so he shut up.

  Once in the air, Robert concentrated on the husband, and the next thing he knew, he was in the guy’s head, with the wind rustling through his hair, and his wrists aching from gripping the handlebar so tightly.

  Hubby was not happy.

  “Why couldn’t we just stay in our room and have sex all afternoon?” he moaned.

  “That’s what we did yesterday,” his wife replied.

  Even though Robert said nothing, after a few seconds he found himself floating again. Ahead, he watched Suzanne wrench around in her seat to gape at the phenomenon.

  He gave her a little wave.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said for like the hundredth time as she stomped along in the sand.

  “Did you try to get in the girl?” he asked.

  “How many times are you going to ask me that?” she said. “I was concentrating all my efforts. I couldn’t do it.”

  “You leaned right into her?”

  “I did everything you told me to do.”

  “Then why can I?”

  “Do you think it has something to do with your fight with that mechanic last night?”


  “It wasn’t a fight.”

  “Well, whatever it was,” she said. “Maybe the fact that you two ‘connected’ changed something about you. Like some barrier was broken.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It doesn’t make sense that suddenly you can get in somebody’s head either.”

  Robert stopped at a man perched on a stool at one of the grass hut bars along the beach. In front of the man sat a tall colorful drink with a slice of pineapple wedged on the rim.

  “Let me see something,” Robert said.

  He waited for the man to take a drink, and when he did, Robert slipped inside.

  A blend of sweet fruit juices, and the bite of rum, hit the back of his throat. He couldn’t help himself. He let out a short growl at the syrupy taste.

  The man jumped, dribbling half the tropical drink down his bare chest. And immediately, Robert was ejected.

  “Interesting,” he said when he reappeared beside Suzanne. He even smacked his lips.

  “Could you taste it?” she asked.

  “Yes. I don’t know what it was, but I definitely don’t want another.”

  As they strolled along the crowded beach, Suzanne encouraged him to experiment. A young couple ran hand-in-hand into the surf.

  “Go see what it feels like,” she said.

  Robert popped into the young man for a moment before rejoining Suzanne.

  “It feels wet,” he reported.

  She puckered her upper lip at him.

  At a poolside cabana, she insisted he sample some fried shrimp.

  “I’m sure it tastes like shrimp,” he said.

  “Just try it.”

  When the portly gentleman took a bite, Robert joined him. Then he reported back to Suzanne.

  “Coconut batter.”

  He even endured a painful sunburn, and the discomfort of sand in his drawers, much to Suzanne’s delight.

  Later, the sound of the ship’s horn blew faintly in the distance. Beach goers shrugged into cover-ups and hastily shook sand off towels.

  “I guess the ship’s leaving,” Robert said. A twinge of regret caught him off guard. “I know I agreed to come with you on this cruise. And I certainly understand if you want to continue on. But I’m not going back—”

  “Of course, we’re not,” Suzanne said. “I’m over cruising.”

  “Really?” The dread he’d been feeling morphed into a warm fuzzy sensation that was almost embarrassing.

  “Besides, this is much better than being on a crowded ship,” she said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She slowed and perched a fist on her hip. “I don’t understand why you find this kind of relaxation so boring.”

  “I’m not bored,” he insisted. Then he blinked at the revelation. “In fact, I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.”

  Steel-drums struck up a tune at the next hotel. Workers lit tiki torches, and waitstaff carried out trays mounded with tropical fruits and cheeses. Hotel guests gathered around a poolside bar.

  Robert glanced at Suzanne, then back at the cabana.

  “Happy hour.”

  “Yes. And I’m sure you would rather be sipping a pina colada.”

  He snarled at the idea.

  “Well, I would,” she said. “It doesn’t seem fair. You had that strange encounter with the mechanic. And now you can taste, and feel, and smell.”

  “Supposedly.”

  “What if you and I tried that—” she clasped her hands together, “—bonding thing.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “No. You didn’t get hurt. And you didn’t hurt him. For all we know, he’s figured out he can get inside his wife’s head now and he’s driving her crazy.”

  “That’s an awful thought,” Robert said.

  “My point is, what have we got to lose?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You never do.”

  She just stood there staring up at him, waiting for him to acquiesce.

  “Right here?”

  “Well—,” she said, dragging a toe across the sand. “I guess we could wander down the beach to a more secluded spot if you like.”

  “You know,” Robert complained as he followed a step behind her. “If anything happens to you, I’m going to be really pissed.”

  She turned and smiled over her shoulder.

  When she decided they’d gone far enough, she laid down on the sand and patted for him to lie next to her.

  He sat instead. “How are we going to do this?”

  She shrugged. “I figured you’d just jump me like he did.”

  “Jump you?”

  “Yeah. That’s what he did. He leaped off the table and bam! You were gone.”

  “Then I should be standing,” Robert said. “Should I get a chair so I can really pounce?”

  Her eyebrow jerked.

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Just…jump me.”

  “Just jump me, she says.”

  Robert stood, hesitated, then half-heartedly fell on her. Nothing happened.

  “Oh, for pete’s sake, Robert. What was that? You’ve got to put some oomph in it.”

  He rolled to his knees.

  “I just don’t feel good about this.”

  “Okay, look. I’ll jump, too.”

  “Maybe I’m too weak after that encounter last night.”

  Suzanne sat up and puckered her mouth. “You’re too weak to tangle with me, but you weren’t too weak to parasail?”

  “Okay.” Robert rocked on his heels like he was working up some momentum. “At the count of three.”

  They counted together, and when they hit three Robert lunged forward; and got hit with a million volts of electricity.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  If Robert could look in a mirror, he was sure his hair would all be singed, his face black with soot. The instant he’d made contact with Suzanne, he was thrown through the air and slammed into the beach. There was no doubt that he would be climbing out of a crater in the sand—if and when he was able to move his arms and legs again.

  As he lay helplessly gazing up at the stars, he took an assessment. No pain, no fear, just a feeling of paralysis and absolute euphoria; like waking from a wonderful dream. But what was he dreaming about?

  Suzanne!

  Robert rolled his head to the left, but she was no longer beside him. He scrambled to his feet, amazed that he was not six feet deep. Spinning in a tight circle, he searched for Suzanne. He finally spotted her body way down the beach.

  “I knew it,” he cursed as he started to run. Then immediately he was at her side. He dropped to his knees, shaking his head. “I never should have agreed.”

  She didn’t look like she was in pain. In fact, she had an incredibly serene smile on her face.

  “Suzanne?”

  Her eyes fluttered open. She tried to sit up, but she seemed to be paralyzed like he’d been.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  “Wow,” was all she could say.

  Once he got her on her feet, they stumbled and weaved along the beach.

  “That wasn’t at all like what you described,” she told him. “I didn’t feel like I was drowning. It was more like getting hit by lightning.”

  “It was a stupid thing to do.”

  “Why?”

  For some reason, Robert was angry. “What if you had disappeared? You know, like crossed over?”

  “The mechanic didn’t.”

  “Well, this was different.”

  She looped an arm through his. “Let’s just say all’s well that ends well.”

  “We’re never doing anything like that again.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” she said, snapping her hand in a salute. Then she slowed up as she stared at the hotel ahead. “I don’t believe it. How long was I lying on the beach back there?”

  Robert followed her gaze to discover the first hint of dawn on the horizon.

  “Are you kidding me?” he snapped. “
We were out a lot longer than I was with that mechanic. I told you it was dangerous. You’re lucky I didn’t—”

  She shushed him by pressing her fingers close to his mouth. “We’re fine, Robert. Stop hounding me—at least until we find out if it worked.”

  Suzanne started simple. She stood behind a woman in the hotel’s café and leaned through just as she took a bite of bacon. A split second later, Suzanne straightened back up, licking her lips.

  “I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life,” she said.

  “You didn’t even stick around long enough to swallow,” Robert chided her.

  “I didn’t want to scare her with my groans of ecstasy.”

  She scampered over to a table where a woman was eating French toast. Once she’d hung around for a couple bites, Suzanne popped back out.

  “Yum, real maple syrup.” She got a sheepish grin on her face. “I used to drive Phil crazy when we had pancakes. I didn’t care how much it cost, I wanted maple syrup. And when I finished, I’d lick my plate clean.”

  “Oh, that’s classy.”

  She chortled. “That’s the same thing Phil said!”

  After gorging on smoked salmon with capers, Belgian waffles buried under a mound of roasted pecans, and eggs Benedict slathered in rich Hollandaise sauce, Suzanne called it quits.

  “I’m stuffed,” she moaned, patting her stomach.

  “I can imagine.”

  “Hey, I never got to eat that way when I was alive. You’ve got your scotch, I’ve got whipped cream.”

  “So, do you want to work off some of that parasailing?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  On the boat ride out, Suzanne overheard some people who had just arrived from Cancun, talking about a zipline in Playa del Carmen.

  “We’ve got to do that!” she told Robert.

  What was a zipline? Robert wondered.

  * * *

  A zipline was when crazy people stepped into a flimsy harness, got latched onto a thin cable, and went zipping across an incredibly deep chasm at a thousand miles an hour. The zipline at Playa del Carmen had fourteen death-defying runs.

  At least the man Robert occupied on the first run was just as scared as he was. They both white-knuckled the grip bar and said their prayers. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”

 

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