Body Switches

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "I... just give me time," he begged, unable to touch her.

  She let him go and left, glaring at him. Harith exhaled. Maybe staying at home wasn't a good idea after all. But going to the bank and having to deal with that stuff was even worse, so he shook his head and started cleaning the kitchen.

  ***

  Ciaran picked up Harith and brought him back to Keith and Harith's apartment. Keith was at work and the small apartment was all for them.

  "So, what do we do now?" Ciaran asked. "Did you speak with your mother?"

  "Yes, I told her the webcam broke when I dropped the laptop after a confrontation with Keith. He had already told her something about me being weird, so she believed me. She's worried that I'm going to ruin my marriage." Harith frowned, staring at the marriage license which had gone back to its place on the bedroom wall. "You haven't been sleeping in my bed, have you?"

  "Of course not," Ciaran replied from the couch. "Your couch is more comfortable than mine."

  "We use it for guests, so it's a real bed. And I don't mind yours, I can sleep on the floor if I have to."

  "How did it go with Charlene?"

  "I like her, but I don't like when she touches me, and it shows, so she knows it." Harith shrugged. "Sorry, but I can't have sex with her anymore than you can have it with Keith."

  Ciaran nodded, thoughtful. "That's okay, I don't miss her." Or did he? A part of him longed to go home, and not only for the kids. That part of him had enough of lonely nights – or was it the body switch that made him edgy?

  "She threatened to kick you out and ask for sole custody of the children," Harith warned.

  "She won't do it, but thanks for telling me. Even if she wasn't raised a Catholic, we both think marriage is forever." Ciaran pondered while Harith slumped on the couch and curled up next to him. "So, we both don't want to lose our spouses. How do we switch back? Any Indian deity that we can pray to? I doubt Jesus can help... But I've been praying every night, just in case. I just keep waking up in your body."

  "So do I," Harith replied. "In Hinduism, many of the divinities are androgynous, and some change gender to participate in homoerotic behavior. Stories of gods and mortals changing gender occur. But no body switches, so I wouldn't know who to ask. I mean, I've prayed to Ardhanarishvara when I was in your temple last Sunday..."

  "Church," Ciaran corrected mechanically.

  "Church." Harith rolled his eyes. "But nothing has changed since then. You think we should call that witch – what's her name?"

  "Samantha? I doubt she'll come. Although she did show up when the kids called her. Maybe you could try to ask Colin and Hugh to call her and tell her we need to talk to her."

  "Theek hai, I'll do that," Harith approved, bobbing his head sideways.

  "What was that?" Ciaran asked, puzzled.

  "Sorry, I mean okay." Harith nodded repeatedly to make his point.

  "Don't make me behave weirdly," Ciaran said.

  "I'm just being myself."

  "But you're in my body! Try to remember you're Irish, okay?"

  Harith snorted. "How about you try to remember you're an Indian guy now?"

  "This is going nowhere," Ciaran grumbled, averting his eyes.

  "You want me to be so perfectly you, but what are you doing to be me?" Harith insisted defiantly.

  "I'm sorry, okay?" Ciaran snapped. "I wish we switched back right now!"

  "Well, this wish is not going to be granted, or we'd have already switched back," Harith snapped back irritably. "What else can we do besides wishing?"

  "Let's see if we find something on the internet," Ciaran decided, opening the laptop.

  ***

  Harith picked up the children and, while they walked home, he asked them if they could call the witch.

  "Why, you want to go out with Mom again?" Colin asked.

  "Actually, I need to talk to her with a friend, and she doesn't seem to listen to us. But she obviously likes you, as she came when you called her... I bet you told her you didn't want the other babysitter so she put a spell on her and showed up in her place, am I right?"

  Hugh giggled and Colin smiled. "Yes, Dad. She's good, last Tuesday she told the class about magic on Silvery Earth – it's as easy as drinking water!"

  "Unfortunately we're not on Silvery Earth and I have no idea of how to do magic, so if you could ask her to meet with me and Harith..."

  "Is that the friend that taught you Hindi?" Colin again. The boy was smart.

  "Uh, yeah, and he's also a baseball coach, so I'd love you to meet him once we solve the little problem we have."

  "What problem is it, Dad?" Hugh asked.

  "I'm afraid it's a grown-up thing... quite boring for you, Beta," Harith replied solemnly.

  "What does beta mean?" Hugh insisted.

  "It means son."

  "How do you say brother?" Colin inquired.

  "Bhai."

  "Cool!" Colin said, brightening while Hugh giggled. "It's shorter than dearthair."

  Harith assumed that was the Gaelic version. Children were so quick at learning languages!

  And the witch seemed to genuinely like them, since the next morning they told him excitedly that she'd visited them the night before, when they had gone to bed, and they'd told her his message.

  "She said she knows everything about you and Harith," Colin concluded. "And that she told you to call her if you needed her. Because she's a witch, she can hear you."

  "But I did try to call her..." Harith stopped in the middle of the sentence. Maybe she had told Ciaran. And Ciaran had sounded incredulous, like he didn't believe she'd actually show up. That was why she wasn't coming. But then, she was obviously the one who did the switch.

  He left the children at school and called Ciaran.

  "They're children, they still believe in fairy tales!" Ciaran told him when they met – once again in Keith's empty apartment. "Do you really think there are witches? In the 21st century? Come on!"

  "But what if there are?" Harith insisted. His Inner Child loved fairy tales from all over the world. Yes, he believed in fairies, angels, djinns, and any other supernatural being that could do either good or bad – what was wrong with that? The magic wasn't all gone from the world, although the Western civilization had completely forgotten about it. "Okay, try to think her as an angel, if it makes you feel better."

  "I've never heard of an angel with a female name."

  "Just trying to match your religious beliefs." Harith snorted. "Spirit guide? Guardian angel? Fairy? Take your pick. As long as you call her."

  "So you really think that she did it?" Ciaran stared at Harith, puzzled.

  "That's what she told your kids," he replied. "And you said she has no cell phone, no family name, didn't accept your money... quite a mystery, so why not?"

  Ciaran shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus!" he sighed, driving his fingers through his hair – my hair. As long as he doesn't tear it out – as if he couldn't accept what was now so obviously true.

  "I'll try to call her too," Harith said. "But she obviously prefers talking to you. Maybe she did it more for you than for me."

  "She did offer for me to go to her place, suggesting who knows what," Ciaran grumbled. "I mean, if she was a normal young woman, it could have been sex, but if she's a witch – like you're so fond of thinking – it takes on a completely new meaning. Entertain me in ways I could never imagine... what do you think that means?"

  "Mm... with a child's eye, it would be some magic trick. If it was me with magic powers, I'd wish you away from here, surround you with a beautiful castle in the clouds, and woo you with flowers and hearts and..."

  "A female body, thank you," Ciaran retorted.

  "Why are you so mean to me?" Harith complained. "Is it your religious background? Aren't you supposed to love everybody?"

  "I'm trying hard not to judge you for your vices, as I know you come from a different moral universe, but you're straining my patience and my beliefs, Harith. Grow up and take responsibil
ity. Even if you'll never have kids. It would help with your relationship with Keith, you know?"

  "Okay, you don't like me – and you don't have to." Harith snorted. "Let's get back on track, shall we? Samiksha, Sanjana, what's her name again?"

  Ciaran rolled his eyes. "Samantha."

  "Yeah, Samantha. Do you think she's a witch or not? Do you think she can switch us back or not? Do you think she watches us, like, right now, and is laughing out loud at how stupid we both sound? You actually met her, so what is she like?"

  "Young and weird." Ciaran frowned and crossed his arms on his chest.

  "I could see that. Did she tell you anything in particular about her so-called powers?"

  "Just that she's a witch. Or a fairy. I don't know what she was doing at the club or how she met you."

  "She probably wandered in one night while I was doing my striptease, and she was smitten," Harith replied, stretching his limbs and then waving his arms as if he were dancing. "She isn't the only one, you know."

  Ciaran glared at him. "What kind of life do you lead? Why does Keith allow you to show off your body to everybody like that?"

  "Why don't you ask him?" Harith replied. "I'd love to know the answer. He's not a jealous guy, that's for sure."

  ***

  Friday after dinner Ciaran sat on the couch with Harith's laptop and checked his email. He wasn't sure calling Samantha would actually summon her. Besides, Keith was in, so it wasn't a good time to attempt it.

  "Not going to the club tonight?" Keith asked, puzzled.

  "No," he answered absentmindedly.

  "You really care for that friend of yours," Keith sat next to him, staring at him.

  "He's really worried for his marriage," Ciaran replied. "And he doesn't even have kids," he added, still concentrated on the web-browser.

  "Neither have you," Keith reminded him.

  Right, I have kids and Harith's in my body now. He closed the laptop and pursed his lower lip.

  "Keith... why do you let me go to the club?" he asked. "Doesn't it bother you that I strip in front of everybody?"

  "That's your vain self looking for attention," Keith answered with a rueful smile. "It's part of you, and I learned to accept it. I know how much you love being at the center of attention. That's probably why you fell for that quickie – he made you feel wanted, and maybe I was too tired to notice you needed me."

  "Oh." Ciaran stiffened as Keith put one arm around his shoulder. "Well, maybe... I don't know. I thought we were doing great."

  "Maybe we need some time off together. I really need a vacation. We could go to India for Diwali, what do you think?"

  "I... let me solve this problem with Ciaran, and we can talk about it," Ciaran answered quickly, unable to fix his eyes on anything.

  "Why are you so embarrassed all of a sudden?" Keith's voice had a hint of impatience, but his hand kept caressing Ciaran's shoulder.

  "I'm sorry, I can't... Please, I need time."

  Keith let him go with a sigh. "Fine. I'll wait for you to solve that problem. But I don't have much patience left, so you're warned."

  "I hope to solve it by the weekend," Ciaran promised to both. Except he had no idea how. And the closeness of Keith's body and Keith's touch had upset him more than he wanted to admit. He'd checked a few books lying around the house and discovered that, for some reason, gay men loved performing oral sex on each other.

  He remembered Harith's blow job and the suggestion he could ask for one from Keith – although he wouldn't sound like Harith. He was too embarrassed to ask Harith what normally happened in the Randall bedroom – unlike Harith, who seemed able to discuss sex openly. But then, Harith came from the country that had produced the Kama Sutra and wasn't blocked by the Church's teachings.

  Sex only between man and wife, to do God's bidding. Was he being punished because he wouldn't fulfill his husband duties? And why wouldn't he? Well, technically he could, but what had happened to his love for Charlene?

  He was morphing into something he didn't like at all. Craving some attention for his lower parts – and he didn't even feel guilty about it. If Keith was as good as Harith... why were gay men so much better at fellatio? Why was he even considering the idea?

  He curled up on the couch, shivering with anguish. He felt like crying, but wouldn't allow himself to.

  7.

  Saturday morning Harith woke up sad. Ciaran’s family wasn’t enough for him anymore – he wanted Keith. Calling him had been a bad idea, but he really needed to see him and hear his voice.

  The children noticed he was brooding and asked him if he was all right.

  "Just a little homesick," he answered, thinking Ciaran could probably say the same, since he wasn't American either.

  "Why don't we spend Christmas in Ireland?" Colin asked, hopeful.

  Puzzled, Harith glanced at Charlene. She was serious and thoughtful, as if she were considering it for the first time. Maybe they never spent Christmas in Europe, and she was thinking it would be a good way to rekindle her marriage.

  "We'll see," he told the children. "Maybe Mom would rather we go to her hometown. She probably misses Grandma, you know?"

  "Actually, I think it's a good idea," Charlene said. "But we'll have to work it out."

  "We still have time to plan it," he said, smiling against his will. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see that friend of mine who has my car."

  "When is he giving it back, Dad?" Hugh asked.

  "As soon as he solves his problem," Harith assured. "I'll see you later, okay?"

  He kissed both kids' heads and Charlene's cheek – which made her blush with pleasure – and rushed out. He called Ciaran and told him about Christmas in Ireland. Ciaran sounded as gloomy as he was. They decided to meet at a coffee shop midway, since Harith was already walking that way. Except he passed the shop and kept going, lost in thought.

  His stomach was in a tight knot, and he was a little light-headed from lack of breakfast, but he kept thinking about Keith, Charlene, the boys, Ciaran and the body switch. He wondered if Ciaran had tried to call Samantha – obviously not, or they'd have switched back by now. He wondered how he could convince Ciaran that fairies and witches existed, but he didn't know much about Irish folklore.

  Although the witch didn't seem to have come from any known folklore. The children said her world was called Silvery Earth and it was very similar to Earth, but with immortal inhabitants. This sounded strange even to him, but he knew there were other planes and other lives, so who was he to say that it couldn't be true?

  His feet took him to his apartment building. He stared longingly at his windows, then his thoughts scattered again and he entered the building.

  ***

  Ciaran drove past the coffee shop, saw Harith wasn't there, and decided to keep going. He reached his own house, a little puzzled he didn't see Harith – he'd said he was already out when he'd called. True that it had taken Ciaran a few minutes to escape Keith who was demanding answers first thing in the morning, so it had ended with him rushing out and slamming the door behind him.

  He parked the car and stared at the house with longing. Without thinking, he left the car and went to the door. A last hesitation and he rang the bell.

  Charlene answered the door, and his heart jumped in his chest. Weird, he didn't think he still felt something for her, but he'd obviously been mistaken. All that thinking the previous night must have put something in motion. Or maybe staying away from Charlene for a week had worked wonders.

  "Hello," he grinned. He was about to say, "Did you miss me?" but her puzzled expression stopped him.

  "Can I help you?" she asked.

  He remembered he wasn't in his body. "Shit," he whispered, glancing at his feet.

  "Is that Ciaran's car?" she continued sharply. "I'm sorry, my husband's not in. Do you wish to leave the keys?"

  "No, I..." Ciaran looked her in the eyes. "I need to talk to you."

  "What? Who are you, and what do you want?" she protested,
incredulous.

  "I'm your husband," he answered. "I know I don't look like him, but I'm Ciaran."

  Her eyes widened in surprise as she gaped. "You've got to be kidding me!" she snapped.

  "Non, ma chérie, it's me," he insisted. "You're me lass, and you love to hear French words when you feel romantic – I actually seduced you because I'm Irish but I'm also fluent in French. Tu adores ça."

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Colin's birthday?"

  "January twenty-five. You went through hours of labor and I was with you the entire time – longest day of our lives."

  She widened her eyes again in surprise. "How is that possible?"

  "Last Friday, the babysitter... we both thought she was weird. Apparently she switched me with this... guy," he pointed at his body. "His name is Harith and he comes from India."

  "That's why you spoke Hindi all of a sudden!" she said, incredulous. "But how..."

  "I don't know. We need to talk all together. We need to find a way out. Let's ask Mrs. Miller if she can keep an eye on the boys today."

  "Okay." She let him in and called Mrs. Miller, explaining she needed to leave the children for the day for a problem with her husband. She listened, then thanked the old lady. "She said to bring them over," she told Ciaran hanging up. "Colin, Hugh!" she called.

  The children rolled down the stairs but stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of Ciaran. He smiled at them, but met only blank stares.

  "Grab some toys, you're going to Mrs. Miller's for a few hours," Charlene told them.

  "Mom, you're not cheating on Dad are you?" Colin asked her, glaring at Ciaran.

  "Actually, we're trying to solve that problem," he said. "We're going to get your dad and bring him home."

  Colin harrumphed and sent his brother to retrieve their Gameboy while he kept an eye on Ciaran.

  "Don't look at me that way, I might become your baseball coach someday," Ciaran said. "You ever heard of Harith Nagrath? He was a champion. And he might end up coaching Little League if you're nice to him."