The Choice

The last thing they remembered seeing was their Ducati motorcycle flying through the air, sea water from a nearby crashing wave spilling off its body. The water beads suspended, and time paused.

The Almighty crash, followed by a sonic BOOM that erupted across time and space, as well as through Jordan’s entire cranium.

They couldn’t believe their eyes, but the freaking sea parted, yes, parted, and the Creature emerged and rose above the crest of the waves. The Creature hovered mid-air. The Creature was huge, about ten times larger than the average human, and appeared to be made of mist, taking on a semi-solid form.

“I speak for the Sea,” the Creature said. The voice came only in Jordan’s mind, not the exterior world.

Click.

Jordan felt the instant shift from the pressure of their bike atop the cliff to weightlessness, as they left the land behind and soared through the air.

“I’ll give you a choice,” the Creature said.

Click.

This is it. Jordan pulled on the throttle full force, shooting down the highway like a cannonball fired. The rush flooded through Jordan’s veins. Icy heat, rippling through their body, skin alive with shrill tingles of fire.

“A choice?” Jordan asked the Creature, completely stupefied.

Click.

The tar-black highway road stretched out before Jordan, blurry and shaking. A vibrating hum pulsed around their head; they were compressed, the scene whizzing by them incomprehensibly. In this moment, nothing mattered to Jordan, neither life nor death.

“Should you refuse the Call, you get a choice.”

Click.

Jordan sped up faster on the bike, feeling the salt breeze pick up and lift the tufts of their hair. Something brown loomed on the road ahead. What is that? As soon as Jordan finished the thought, the bike struck against it with its tire and thumped.

Jordan fought the urge to look behind. Just keep going.

“What is the choice?”

Click.

Jordan flew out into the skyline, body and bike parting ways. It felt like floating, while their mind clearly decided they were falling, as the crashing waves enlarged in appearance, the sky shrinking out of eye-line and existence.

Jordan knew that they were pulled under, the force spinning them as if they had been set to tumble-dry. They saw nothing but black void, heard nothing but a static ringing as if they were sitting in an empty room.

I think it was a barn owl. The brown looming lump, that is, the one Jordan had run over with the bike.

“What is the Call?” Jordan felt panic rush into their stomach, then swirl and mix with the heavy churning of nausea. The Creature did not reply.

Jordan felt the weight of the silence, and the comprehension that they would know when the Call was revealed.

Bang.

The front door slammed as Jordan stormed out from their country home, feet stomping while they clenched their fists. It isn’t fair.

Jordan swung one leg over the seat body of their beloved Ducati, the one they had acquired after their win in Milan. They shifted their weight and lifted the kickstand with their foot.

Click.

With a fluid pull of the throttle, life transitioned from stillness to motion as the engine roared.

A melodic tune danced into the air with sprawling grace like the chords of a harp, the ringing of wind-chimes, and the lull of sea waves all combined. Jordan witnessed in its sound the warmth from the light of the diamond sun upon their cheek. Nothing had ever felt like this caress of elation to Jordan, ever.

“Say yes,” the Call said. The light grew inexplicably brighter.

“Say yes,” the Call said again, this time louder, and an octave higher. The light became brighter still.

“Say yes,” the Call said yet again, louder even than before, and another octave higher. The light blinded Jordan.

At a certain point, none knew when, it reached heights that were before inconceivable. When this occurred, Jordan screamed, inside and out, completely.

The Choice had been made.

Click.

A barn owl flapped its wings, gliding along the highway coast.

Billie laid roses over Jordan’s grave. They reflected upon the last year of their lives, apart more than together, as Jordan had descended into alcoholism. Then, the final strike hit before the crash, and Jordan lost everything. Drunk behind the wheel. During a race, no less.

One last adrenaline high.

Billie left the hillside gravesite and headed towards the highway road. Something flashed past them in a whip winding blur as their whole body vibrated along with the ground beneath them.

An oncoming car.

The long yell of a honk accompanied by flashing headlights.

The conspicuous catch of the wind, lifting their body, bracing it from a tumble.

Moments later, Billie stood frozen, their heart lurched in their throat. Breathing…they were so shocked that they were still breathing.

The barn owl above fluttered to a halt and perched along the telephone wire.

The Choice had been made.

I think it was a barn owl.

That was Jordan’s last thought before hitting the concrete of the ocean waves.