Meditation - Self Esteem - Healing - Creative Process - Problem Solving

Go Lightly

A Short Story By Dannye Williamsen              

The night was quiet like all of Elliott’s nights the last few years. None of his gang that met for doughnuts and coffee at Casey’s General Store every morning were still around. Even his Thursday night poker buddies had fallen by the wayside. Charlie and Pete had both died last year. Eddie didn’t die, but his mind was in full reverse with only an occasional rest stop. The last time Elliott went to see Eddie, he was repeating lines from Alice in Wonderland. He kept saying over and over: “I’m late! I’m late!”

“Late for what, Eddie?” Elliott had asked gently.

“Life, of course!” Eddie had replied, looking straight into his friend’s eyes. For just a moment, Elliott thought he saw his old buddy emerging. But then the moment passed, leaving Elliott sitting across from a stranger.

Tonight he was celebrating. This would be the last of the lonely nights for Elliott GoLightly. He would never have to see the signs of all his regrets every time he looked in the mirror. The deep creases were mocking reminders of all the opportunities that he had passed over, preferring the safety of his familiar rut. It had been easier to go to work every day and do the job he memorized the first year he was hired and then to come home and watch his favorite programs. When he retired, he had developed other routines that very quickly became familiar ruts that he did not like disturbed. Spontaneity had never been part of Elliott’s makeup.

Eddie's right, thought Elliott. It is too late for me in this life. No point in continuing this charade. Elliott considered several methods of ending his miserable existence, but none of them appealed to him. Hanging himself would be the easiest. Very little equipment required. The only problem was Elliott’s imagination. He could just see himself hanging from one of the cross beams in his den, flailing his arms and desperately trying to support his weight by clutching the rope length that stretched from the ceiling to the noose. Then he saw his lips turning blue and felt himself gasping for air. No—hanging was too dangerous. He might linger on in agony too long. Besides, he wasn’t absolutely sure he wouldn’t change his mind if given the chance.

Taking pills was another option. The trouble with this method was that Elliott, much to his dismay, was the only one of his friends who hadn’t been taking at least fifteen pills every day for the last ten years for some ailment or other. Elliott took an occasional aspirin for a headache. That was it. He—goldarnit!—was as healthy as a horse. That was why he knew he had to take deliberate action to end his miserable life. He was too healthy to die of some disease like his buddies.

Elliott finally decided to purchase over-the-counter cold medicines and allergy pills—making sure not to buy the non-drowsy brands. Then he mixed in a handful of aspirin and chased them with a bottle of bourbon. He figured he would either be asleep or too drunk to know the difference when the end came. There was no chance of anyone stumbling over him before the deed was complete. There was no one left in his life who would even notice he was missing.

The bourbon bottle rested on the arm of Elliott's chair. His fingers wrapped themselves tightly around the bottle. As the drowsiness washed over him, his fingers slowly relaxed until the bottle fell from their grasp and bounced silently on the carpet. His arms slid over the chair arms and hung loosely. His mind was slipping away from the world he knew all too well.

Suddenly, he heard a voice calling him. “Elliott! Wake up!” Then he felt someone shaking him. I can't believe it! he thought. What idiot is this—messing up my well-thought out plan? He opened his eyes.

“Where am I?” he asked. He wasn’t pretending bewilderment. Nothing he saw was familiar. He was in a room painted a soft yellow. Purple, pink, and yellow flowers in glass vases accented the room. He turned to the young man standing in front of him and asked again, “Where am I?”

“Where would you like to be, Elliott?”

“Dead.”

“Well, then, I’m sure that can be arranged. But, what do you say to a bit of breakfast first?” The young man walked toward the door, beckoning Elliott to follow. Stepping out of the room into a grand hallway, Elliott knew this place must have been a mansion home at one time. Obviously it had been converted into a mental facility. No other explanation could explain his presence here. The young man entered a room to the left. Elliott followed.

Three huge tables stood on the far side of the room. They were piled high with delicacies. Eggs, bacon, ham, sausage, pancakes, waffles, coffee cakes, omelets, crepes, and to Elliott’s delight, doughnuts! People were sitting at the small tables around the room, but Elliott could not take his eyes away from the food long enough to look at them. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he saw all that gorgeous food just sitting there. He grabbed a plate and started a campaign to get as many things on this one plate as possible. Wonder how long it's been since I ate? he thought.

Looking around for an empty table, he spotted one in the middle of the room and started toward it. As he twisted and turned to slip between the chairs of those already seated, a queer thought started tugging at his mind. At first he ignored it because his primary purpose was directed toward finding a seat and eating his breakfast. It wasn’t until he actually settled himself and began to eat that he took the time to look at the people around him. Everyone was young. That’s strange, he thought. I always thought most nutty people were middle-aged or older. Then as he swiveled his head to look around the room, Elliott noticed that there were children here also. Seated behind him, the children’s backs were toward Elliott.

Doesn’t look much like a nut house! he thought just as the young man who brought him here pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Are you enjoying your food, Elliott?”

“Yeah! It’s great!” said Elliott, stuffing the rest of a doughnut in his mouth. “Hey, what is this place? It doesn’t look much like a mental hospital.”

The young man laughed. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

“How did I get here? How long do I have to stay? How long have I been here?”

“Did you have someplace you wanted to go, Elliott?”

“Well—no. I guess I was just wondering…I mean, one minute I was in my arm chair at home—dying rather peacefully, I might add—and the next minute I’m here. I seem to be a little vague on the details. I was hoping you could fill them in for me. I feel like I was teleported or something.”

“Or something.”

Elliott looked at the young man. He liked him, but his cryptic answers were starting to jangle Elliott’s nerves. “Look here. I have a right to know where I am.”

“Yes. You are dining at the HospitalityCenter in Topsy-Turvy.”

“Topsy-Turvy? What the heck is that? Kind of callous to name a mental hospital something like that, isn’t it?”

“Oh, but Topsy-Turvy isn’t a mental hospital, Elliott. It’s the name of our world.”

“Your world? Okay… enough’s enough! Where’s the director of this loony bin? I demand to talk to him!”

The young man did not respond to Elliott’s demands. Instead he asked, “Elliott, look around you. What do you see?”

Elliott looked slowly around the room, not to please his companion, but because he was no longer sure how safe he was. There were young adults everywhere. There were a few children across the room. No old people.

“I see a lot of well-dressed young people…and a few kids.”

“How old do you think these people are?”

“Oh, I would say the adults range in age…” Elliott glanced around again. “…from twenty to forty-five. Why?”

“These people range in age from sixty-five to ninety.”

“Yeah, right! What do you take me for? Oh, I forgot. You think I’m crazy.”

“Let me show you something, Elliott. I will be right back.” The young man walked across the room, bent down and spoke to one of the children. The boy rose and followed him back toward Elliott. As they neared, Elliott was expecting to see a typical young boy. Instead he saw a person whose only resemblance to a child was his size. His face was creased with wrinkles not unlike Elliott’s. Rather than the characteristics one expects in a child—a little mischievousness, perhaps innocence, but certainly happiness—Elliott saw the weariness, the negativity, the disappointment one too often sees in those who have passed the mark of middle-age.

“What the…he…?” Elliott could not say another word. He was speechless. He reasoned that perhaps he was still sitting in his arm chair—only the drugs had rendered him delusional instead of killing him.

“Come with me, Elliott, and I will show you our world.”

Unable to resist his curiosity, Elliott followed, taking a couple of chocolate doughnuts with him. “What’s your name, young man? Or should I say old man?”

“My name is Joshua. And yes, you might consider me an old man. I am ninety-three years young. On Topsy-Turvy, we grow young, not old, Elliott.”

“But how can that be? How can something begin life old? I mean, it doesn’t make sense. You only grow old because your body wears out.” And your spirit, he thought. “It’s a natural process. Living things always adhere to the process of entropy. The body is a closed universe. The energy available to sustain youth decreases and the body begins to deteriorate. Aging is a natural part of life, Joshua.”

“Oh, but it isn’t, Elliott. On Topsy-Turvy, we learned something very important many generations ago. We learned that we are not a closed system. We are all connected—not only to each other, but to the entire Universe.”

“That’s impossible! What someone else does has no impact on me—at least in terms of my health. It doesn’t matter because it’s just the way it is. We’re born, we age, we die. It’s that simple!”

“Then how do you explain what you have seen today?”

“Trickery! No, it’s not even that grandiose. I’m delusional. None of this is real. I’m probably strapped down in some hospital bed having hallucinations.”

“Would you rather be there? What if this is real? Would you be interested?” Joshua looked at his companion.

Elliott had to admit to himself that he was certainly a sincere apparition. Oh, what the heck! May as well enjoy the show while it lasts. He replied, “Who wouldn’t want to grow young? But, doesn’t it make childhood a bit of a drag?”

“Not at all! Our children can see what is possible for them to achieve. It motivates them.”

“Wait a minute! What do you mean by what is possible? And why do they need motivation? In my world, we just grow old. No motivation required. Are you saying they have a choice?”

“Of course! If they choose to remain old, they can.”

“Are you telling me that there are people who actually choose to be old?” Elliott thought this was even crazier than growing young.

“Certainly.”

“Why haven’t I seen any of them? What do you do? Incarcerate them. Ostracize them?” Elliott thought that old-looking adults here were probably worse off than they were in his world. Here they were really misfits. They didn’t even fit in with their peers.

“No. They tend to ostracize themselves. Because they refused to invest energy in change, they are experiencing the lack of energy you mentioned. It makes it difficult for them to keep up with others their age. So, they tend to group together because of their common needs, but no one treats them differently.”

“I guess I still don’t understand…” Elliott began. He was interrupted by a wave of Joshua’s hand.

“This is a mountaintop view of our city. What do you think?”

Elliott was overwhelmed. He could see for miles. The air was crisp and clear, and everywhere he looked, he saw people laughing and smiling. That clenches it! I am definitely tripping!

“Well…I think it’s—uh, different!” Elliott answered.

“Come on, Elliott. Tell me what you see that is different.” Joshua placed his hand on Elliott’s shoulder.

“Laughing, smiling people. It’s been a long time since I heard laughter or saw people smiling at each other on the street.”

“Why do you think that is?” Joshua asked. Elliott looked at him to see if this was a test question., but he seemed to be genuinely interested in Elliott’s reply.

“I guess that there’s just not much to be happy about. I mean, life is sort of a vicious circle. You want to have things you can enjoy. So you work hard to afford a house and a new car. Then you have to work even harder if you want to take a vacation. Then one day, you shift your focus. You don’t even know when it happened. But, suddenly, you’re working hard so that you can go places and do things when you retire. By the time you do retire, you’re too old to enjoy going places or doing things. And all your friends start dying off. Next thing you know—you’re alone.” Elliott paused. “Not much to smile about, I guess.”

“Would you like to have something to smile about, Elliott?”

“Well, sure, but what are you talking about? I’m a little too long in the tooth for the transformations you have here.”

“Not at all, Elliott. Not at all.” Elliott was staring at the sidewalk in front of the HospitalityCenter. “Is there something on your mind you would like to ask me?”

“Yeah.” Elliott felt silly asking this question. After all, this was only a dream. What difference could it make if it was only a dream? He decided to ask Joshua anyway. “You said that seeing the young adults motivated the children. Obviously, some of them were not motivated since they did not become young. What is it that the children have to do to grow young instead of older?”

“Ah! Are you desiring to grow young, my friend?”

“Well, I know it’s impossible—at least in my world.” Elliott added that since he was pretty certain this wasn’t the world he knew. He didn’t know if it was fantasy or fact, but he was sure that it wasn’t his reality. “But obviously it isn’t here. I’m just curious to know what it is that causes it. Do the children have to take a drug or something? Maybe a genetically engineered hormone?”

“No. They don’t have to take anything at all. They have to believe.”

“Believe? You mean like I believe in Santa Claus?”

Joshua laughed. “Sort of like that. After all, isn’t Santa Claus a catalyst for transforming the human spirit?”

Elliott considered Joshua’s words. “Yeah. It is the one time of year when people are a little happier. At least for a while, but it just as often turns out to be a disappointment.”

“That’s because they don’t understand.”

“It’s because they try to stay a child, believing in a fairy tale, and then the real world knocks them for a loop!”

“No, Elliott. It’s because they think that Santa Claus lives outside of them. They keep looking for someone else to bring them happiness. They expect laughter and joy to arrive all neatly packaged with colorful bows and a tag with their name on it attached. In your world, people are born filled with innocence and joy. The laughter of children is taken for granted in your world. As time passes, you put away what you call childish things, and you begin to grow old. Those childish things include curiosity and wonder, the ability to find joy in all things, the simple act of laughing without a reason. That is what causes the disappointment at Christmastime and all through the year. You have forgotten where your happiness lies. It is within you.”

A mournful chord sounded in Elliott’s heart. He missed his youth.

“I can see the sorrow in your eyes, Elliott. That is why I want to share our secret with you. In our world, we are not filled with joy as children. It is not given to us. We earn it. We choose to be happy. We choose to recognize that each of us is part of a spiritual family. We are connected. Therefore, everything we do resonates throughout the Universe and affects everyone else. That means that we do not believe that our bodies are a closed system. We allow energy from the Universe to flow into us. This energy constantly renews us in both mind and body. That is how we grow young.”

“But the others…”

“You mean those who choose to stay old?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Elliott, the wonderful thing about my world and yours is that we have free will. We get to choose whatever experience we desire. Those who have chosen to remain without joy in their lives have pinched off the flow of energy into their lives. The only growth that occurs is their physical size, and even it is stunted. They become that closed system you mentioned, and entropy prevails—not only in their bodies, but in their spirit.”

Elliott’s head was spinning. This delusion was starting to make sense. God, if only I could change my life. Maybe I don’t need something to make me laugh or feel good. Yeah, that’s it! Why couldn’t I just laugh whenever I wanted and feel good even if everyone else is complaining about how bad they feel?

“Are you ready to grow young, Elliott GoLightly?” Joshua interrupted Elliott’s thoughts.

Elliott looked at Joshua for a moment. “I was just thinking that even if I didn’t look younger, maybe I would feel younger if I laughed more often.”

“You’re catching on! It’s never too late to grow young—even in your world! Your body responds to joy. The Universe responds to joy. And joy resides in you. It didn’t disappear at all. You simply started looking for it in the wrong places.” Joshua added, “Don’t take life so seriously. Be true to your name, Elliott. Go lightly.”

“Do you think…” Elliott began.

“I am absolutely sure!” replied Joshua, putting his arm around Elliott’s shoulder. A great peacefulness descended over Elliott, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling.

 Opening his eyes, Elliott recognized his living room. He was disappointed. Somehow his suicide attempt had only given him a short reprieve by sending him on a fantastical adventure. He really wanted to travel back to the whimsy of Topsy-Turvy. Everything was so much better there. He closed his eyes again, trying to return to that place of hope. After a few minutes, Elliott knew it was useless. It had sounded so good, though. Growing young. Laughing. Feeling good. He had really gotten sucked into the illusion. When he started to ask Joshua if it was possible for him to grow young, and Joshua declared that he was absolutely sure it was…

Oh! What I wouldn’t give for that to be true!

But now it was time to get up and face reality. Elliott opened his eyes. Then he began to laugh—a laugh filled with the carefree spirit of a child. There on his lap lay a half-eaten chocolate doughnut.

                                                                                                                                 

Copyright 2005 Dannye WIlliamsen. All rights reserved. This short story may not be copied or reproduced in any manner without the written permission of the author.

                                                               

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