Now Serving Eternity

"Good evening, Sir, do you have a reservation?" The woman at the host stand smiles politely and waits for his answer. He stares back at her, confused. He wasn't even sure where he was. He swivels his head, taking in his surroundings. Okay, so he's in a restaurant though it isn't one he recognises. Its not a wide space but he can't seem to see the back wall. The tables he can see are full of people. Wait, she asked a question, a reservation? A reservation for what?

"Where am I?" The question causes the hostess to laugh.

"Just a name will do, sir," She continues to chuckle as she stares down at what he assumes is a reservations list. A name, he wonders if he has a name? It seems like something he should have. The fog in his brain makes it difficult to think. Surely, he would have a name; why can’t he think?

"Carl Matthews," the words come out without conscious effort on his part, and he’s glad for it. All this thinking was making a headache begin to throb behind his eyes.

"Ah, yes, Matthews, right this way. I've been expecting you. A table for two, yes? Your companion is already waiting."

Companion? He trails behind her, confused but not sure what else to do. Despite the sheer number of customers, they make their way through smoothly. He swears that the place was a lot smaller before they started walking. The tables don't seem to have an endpoint.

“How many people does this place sit?” The question is more to himself, rhetorical and slightly baffled, but the hostess replies anyway.

“Around 10,000 people usually, but we can fit more if the need arises,” she shrugs in a casual gesture, continuing to lead him to the table, his table. Carl’s brain feels like it’s been through a blender, but even he knows that sounds wrong.

“What do you mean, 10,000?” bewilderment obvious in his tone.

She laughs again before finally stopping at a table. A middle-aged man sits alone, looking just as confused as he is. When the man sees him, he stands and holds out his hand for Carl to shake. Carl shakes his hand warily before taking a seat across from him.

“Welcome to Eternity. We offer an unforgettable experience, something to reminisce about for many times to come. Please study the menu carefully and call me over when you are ready to order.”

“What menu?” Carl asks before she leaves, not walking away, but actually disappears. He looks around, wondering if he's in some kind of magic-themed restaurant before noticing a menu in front of him, which definitely wasn’t there before.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Carl asks the other man. The man looks up at him and shrugs.

“No clue to be honest, I barely remember my own name. Jerald, by the way, but I have a feeling I have a nickname; it’s coming back to me slowly, I swear.”

Carl doesn't reply, choosing to look back down at his menu and read.

ETERNITY MENU

Current Special: Two Breakfast Items, Two Lunch Items and Two Dinner Items, and you get One Side free!

All Desserts Included.

BREAKFAST: Full of all your firsts! LIMITED AVAILABILITY

Your first…

Word - Currently Unavailable

Step - Currently Unavailable

Memory

Lost Tooth - Limited Availability

Friend

Kiss

Love

LUNCH: Oh no, you’re an adult now, time do adult things.

Getting Your Driver’s License

Getting into College

Getting Married

Buying Your Home

Having Children

Getting Promoted

Getting Fired

SIDES: Would you like fries with that?

Your Birth

Lost Childhood Memory

A Random Day of Your Life

Your Death

The Age You Were When You Died

DINNER: We all get old, well, most of us do.

Your Divorce

Your Second Marriage

Finding Out You’re Going to Be a Father Again At 48

Your Father's Death

Finding Out You Have Cancer

The Birth of Your Fourth Child

Your Funeral

The shock of reading ‘your death’ isn’t something Carl or Jerald can dwell on for too long. Carl can’t believe this is his life. As soon as the thought comes, the hostess appears. Carl screams. She giggles.

“Mr Matthews, please, you are hilarious!” she finishes her laughter, wiping at the corner of her eye before continuing, “You’re probably wondering how this is your life, the answer is it isn’t! You each have the other’s menus. You cannot swap, talk about or act out what is on the other person's menu. You must purchase the dishes you would like, and you can talk about them once they are put back into the other person's consciousness. You will not receive the dishes you order; you will receive the dishes the other person orders for you. When you are ready to order, please call me back.” She’s vanishes, again.

“Why does she keep disappearing? I would really like some clarity here.” Carl nods in agreement as he goes over the menu, well, the memories again. Two of each and a ‘side’ if that’s what they’re calling it. The idea of picking for someone else is overwhelming; he wonders if he always found this kind of thing too much.

“Are you ready to order?” Jerald looks up, his face mirroring Carl's in worry. Jerald studies the menu one more time before nodding. The hostess poofs into existence next to Carl, again scaring the life out of him, well, whatever life this is. The hostess bellows this time.

“Oh, Carl,” the laughter continues, “I have a job to do, stop making me laugh.” She clears her throat after one last chuckle and talks like she’s reading a script. “I see you are both ready to order. Here is the order paper. Please only order two breakfast items, two lunch items and two dinner items. You may then write down a side to have with your meal. Desserts will come complimentary at the end of your meal; the menu will be presented with the final dishes. Once each meal arrives, you may talk together about what you ordered and only what you ordered” She doesn’t disappear this time.

Carl and Jerald stare down where the menu once was, a piece of paper and pen now in its place. They both pick up the pens in sync and write. It doesn’t feel like they are making any choices, but more like a need, a compulsion to write. Neither looks up, speaks, nor breathes until they finish. Carl finishes first, putting his pen down and checking over the order, then Jerald. As soon as Jerald’s pen hits the table, both the paper and pen disappear.

“Thank you for your orders, Gentlemen, they will be out shortly.” This time, when she disappears, neither reacts. Instead, they both breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Who knew being dead would be so stressful?” Jerald laughs, looking to Carl; Carl is not amused. The first course appears in front of them both, along with a sudden, sharp pain in the skull. A stack of three large pancakes covered in syrup and bacon in front of Jerald, and a full English breakfast in front of Carl. The memories flood them both.

“J.D! That’s my nickname, my childhood friend Thomas gave it to me when we were, like, I don’t know, 9 maybe. Oh god that was so long ago now. Well, at least it feels like a while ago. I feel old. I’m not sure.” Jerald, J.D rambles on with this new knowledge, while Carl sits in it. He remembers his first kiss, Nancy Gardener, in the 8th grade. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, and her braces made his lip bleed. He remembers sitting in a cot looking up at his mother, her eyes as green as emeralds, such love in her expression. He can’t even remember her name. He remembers Bentley Carmickel, from the 4th grade, playing Gameboy at his dad’s house and getting yelled at by his mom. The memories sit like a lead weight inside him. He knows this is only the beginning.

Carl decides listening is fine, if J.D asks, he might tell him his, but for now, he doesn’t. “The second one is for me to know,” J.D winks at Carl, but he just stares back. The food disappears before they can take a bite, and lunch appears in front of them soon after. A large serving of ribs with corn and beans, “Oh hell yeah," J.D exclaims at his feast. Carl looks down at his Caesar Salad and smiles. “Did you just smile?” J.D’s teasing tone forces Carl's shackles back up. The pain hits them with a bit more force, the delay giving them a false sense of security.

“Fuck that hurts,” J.D rubs at his temples. Carl does the same. Memories engulf them both, happy ones. They both don’t talk this time. Introspection seems to be the way to go. They sit in the feelings of a life lived and forgotten. As though watching a movie play out with an actor playing the main role instead of you.

“Thanks,” J.D’s quiet acknowledgment causes Carl to look up, confused. “For picking my kids, I can’t believe I forgot them.”

Not sure how to react to this show of emotion, Carl clears his throat, choosing logic to fight the weird feelings stirring, “You barely remembered your own name 30 minutes ago, so it’s not like you decided to forget your children on purpose.”

“Thanks, man, I needed that.” J.D gets up, walks around the table and hugs Carl. Carl does not hug him back. Sitting back down, they actually get to finish their meal this time before it is whisked away and replaced with what looks like dinner and a side. They don’t look at the meal; instead, they brace. The impact knocks them out for a split second. They both wake up gasping. “Is there a reason we have to feel pain after we die?” J.D mutters to himself, groaning as the pain subsides. They look down and see matching plates of lasagna and garlic bread to share.

“I guess we have the same favourite meal,” Carl says quietly, not letting the new memories overwhelm him. J.D smiles slightly, but the pinch between his brow doesn’t abate. “Are you okay?” Carl's question surprises him; he still doesn’t know himself well, but he can tell that he isn’t normally caring in any sense of the word.

“Yeah, I just, divorce, 4 kids, cancer, it's all a little much,” Carl nods in sympathy and decides maybe sharing will make him feel better. Or just not so terrible.

“Seems I was never married or had children, for that matter. I’m not sure how I feel about that.” J.D relaxes slightly at the sharing of memories.

“Nothing wrong with that man, different strokes for different folks, you know?”

“I can say with some degree of certainty that I have no idea what you’re saying.”

J.D breaks out laughing, “The hostess lady's right, you are funny.” At the mention of her name, she appears again. Carl does not scream, too loudly.

“You called? Are you ready for dessert?” Her question sends trepidation through them both. They nod, and a red velvet cake appears in the middle of the table. “This one won’t hurt, physically. Again, you will have each other’s menus; you cannot talk about the contents, but you may speak about the feelings these may bring up. Its almost time to make your choice.”

What choice? Once she’s gone, Carl and J.D look down at the menu in front of them.

DESSERT: Are you sure you need dessert? It’s your choice, actually, it’s not, sorry.

Your First Wife Finding Out You Cheated on Her

The Hit and Run You Were in at Twenty

The Last Thing You Ever Said to Your Father

Your Biggest Regret

The Worst Thing You’ve Ever Done

J.D puts his hand over his mouth, a muffled cry coming from between his lips. Carl stares ahead, choosing numbness over feeling, as he imagines his done thousands of times before. Taking deep breaths, J.D. tries to speak, “I.. I thought maybe.. I lived an okay life, but.." A sob leaves his throat. The memories trickling into their psyche, showing them the other side of the coin. With all goodness, there is evil, and evil doesn’t discriminate.

Carl looks down at his trembling hands. He feels like a monster. J.D feels it too, the disgust and self-hatred that overtakes their entire body. Carl takes a deep breath and again chooses logic as he assumes he always does, “Every person is an amalgamation of every memory and experience they have throughout the course of their life. We are not every bad thing we have ever done, nor every good thing. We just have to learn what to do with the knowledge and choose who we get to become in the end.”

With those words, they blink and are standing back at the host stand. “Thanks for dining with us today at Eternity. Now it's time to choose yours. Left or right, gentlemen, what do you think you deserve?” She smiles at us, waving us off as she goes to greet the next customer.

They stand across from each other. Eyes locked, breaths ragged. J.D puts his arms around Carl, and this time, Carl hugs him back. They stay there for what feels like forever. “Left, or right?” J.D asks. Carl pulls out of the embrace, putting his hands on J.D’s shoulders, he looks at him and smiles before turning and walking away.

J.D watches him go for a time before beginning his own walk in the opposite direction. One left and one right, two sides of the same coin, never to meet again.