“You have been given a life that would last forty-five years, three months, and five days. That time has elapsed,” the voice said.
“Even if I didn’t want that life? Even if I didn’t care to make the best of it?” I asked.
“That does not matter. Every person is responsible for the way he or she leads their lives and what they do with them.”
“So people’s longevity depends on ‘which available life’ they were given at birth?” I was truly surprised.
“Yes,” the voice responded.
An idea crossed my mind. At the same time that idea was occurring to me, I heard the voice again, only this time it came to me like thunder:
“What are you thinking about?” it asked me.
“Well … now that you ask, there’s something I would like to do.… It’s very important.… Look, I never did anything for anyone. I never gave anyone the chance to love me and I haven’t loved anyone in such a long time.… Please,” I said, thinking it would not work.
There was silence after my last words got lost in what seemed the echo of that dark room. I didn’t hear a thing for a few seconds; I was not sure if the voice was considering my plea or if I was already where I would be for the rest of eternity.
“All right. We have considered your idea; there will be a punishment for you for breaking the rules upon death and for wasting a forty-five-year-old life…,” the voice said, and I could have sworn there was some kind of emotion in its words this time.
“I will do anything.… I…,” I started saying.
“Close your eyes now,” the voice said.
I did so and felt a sudden warmth. I could have sworn that I was being lifted from the ground and was now beginning to spin slowly in midair.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I heard a familiar voice. I didn’t want to open my eyes; it might be too soon.
“This isn’t funny!”
It was her voice; it was hers.
It had to be her.
“Marilyn Matlin,” I said, opening my eyes. I smiled.
She had not aged a second. She was standing in front of me; we were back in the park. It was getting dark; I noticed she was wearing her prom gown, just like the last time I ever saw her.
“Oh God! This is real!” I yelled and began to laugh as I held her in my arms and lifted her from the ground. I began to spin with her in my arms.
The sound of her laughter made me feel more alive than ever.
“Put me down! Put me down! I’m getting dizzy,” she laughed, holding on to my neck.
I put her down and said, “Hurry up; we have a prom to go to! Run, Marilyn, run!” I laughed while beginning to run, holding her hand.
We ran, as fast as we could, to the dance hall. Kingston looked exactly the same as I remembered it; nothing had changed.… The only thing that was different there was me: I was a forty-five-year old, bitter man inside an eighteen-year-old boy’s body.
I smelled the fresh breeze of the night; I enjoyed each drop of water the early drizzle brought. I was also very aware of Marilyn’s steady grip on my hand.
“I wish this night could last forever!” I shouted. She laughed.
