Author: Kevin Eric Paul

“Hey. Mister,” a melodious voice called to me. I kept my eyes closed for a moment and did not respond. Confusion. Anxiety. Dread.
And a gentle, warm breeze. Bright light penetrating my eyelids. Where am I? I thought. What the devil is going on?

“Mister. Hey.” I felt a soft hand touch the wrinkled skin of my old, worn-out shoulder. I opened my eyes, squinting against the sunlight. I was reclined on a comfortable chaise longue, golden sand all around me, and baby blue waters a stone’s throw away. Before me was a young brunette, perhaps mid-twenties, wearing a two-piece, white swimsuit with a bright green sarong about her narrow waist. Was I sleeping? Or was I still dreaming?

She released her hand. “You okay, fella? You were talkin’ in your sleep just then.”

I coughed, cleared my throat, and waved away her concerns. “I’m fine, fine. Sorry, Miss. No need to be concerned for an ol’ timer like myself, now.”

“I’m mighty glad you’re all right,” she told me with a sincere, glowing smile. Not everyone is, you know.”

“Whatever do you mean, my dear?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked suddenly.

I considered that; what I remembered was nonsensical. Was I becoming senile? “My word, what a question to ask an old man. Heaven’s sake!”

She knelt in the sand and gazed intently into my eyes. I looked away. “Tell me. Please.”

Her concern seemed genuine. And I felt that I could trust her. I didn’t know why. “Well, I…I was in my study, as I am most nights. I was enjoying a pipe and a book…and–”

“And then you woke up right here, just now?”

“Why, yes. Say, do I know you? You seem awful familiar, now I’ve had a look at you.”

She flashed a big grin and took my hand in hers. “So you do remember! Stanley, it’s me. It’s your Eunice!”

I looked her up and down. It really was. “But…that was…”

“Over sixty years ago,” she finished. “I know, Stan. And now we’re here.”

I could scarcely believe it. I was not, in fact, dreaming. Yet here she was, just as she’d been when we parted ways at the end of that magical summer. I frowned as a realization came to me.

“Eunice. I’m dead, aren’t I?”

She chuckled gently at that. “No, silly. This is your new life. And this one don’t end, if you don’t wan’ it to!”

I felt my smile stretch from ear to ear. “So you’re tellin’ me the cryo–”

“It worked, Stan,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “Now. Get your fine self out of that old skin. Just concentrate. Think on it. That’s it!” she cried.

I looked down at my new body. Old body? I was young again. I ran a hand through my thick head of hair. Amazing. I stood up and offered my arm to Eunice. She eagerly accepted it, and we began walking along the beach.

“Eunice?”

“Yes, sugar?”

“Are you really…you?”

“Does it matter?”