Maslow Walker jolted as if suddenly thrust out of a deeply unsettling dream. He wiggled his toes. The grass beneath his bare feet was as plush and green as a golf course. Maslow reached up and let his hand enter a billowy cloud that hovered just above his head. He felt a pleasurable tingle run down his arm and when he withdrew his hand it felt damp and warm. He was naked except for a pair of swimming trunks—blue, covered with golden starfish.

Maslow knelt down, unconcerned that the green landscape had morphed into white sand that glittered as if filled with countless diamonds. He dug his hands into the gentle warmth and laughed.

“Is this one of your fondest memories then?”

Maslow glanced up and saw that a Boston terrier was facing him. A wishbone of white splashed its black face, settled perfectly between dark, protruding eyes. It had a flattened nose, large, eager ears, and a hairless patch that ran across its back—a reminder of the time it had tried to squeeze under an electric fence.

“Am I in Heaven?”

“Goodness, no. This is purgatory, or if you prefer, limbo.”

Maslow frowned. “How are you talking? Don’t get me wrong; I’m overjoyed to see you. I’ve missed you boy.”

“Boy? I would have guessed your grandmother. Say, do I look like your favorite pet?”

“My best friend,” Maslow corrected. “He just happened to be a dog. He died when I was fourteen.”

“Marvelous. An excellent choice, it speaks well of you. Do you know why you are wearing your swimming suit?”

Maslow considered. “I was inner tubing. Drifting. The undertow pulled me out. The waves crashed. I fell off.”

“What else?”

“There were thousands of jellyfish. Multi-colored. Translucent. Beautiful. Then the first one stung me. I panicked and… I drowned. I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Not truly. You’ll probably be averse to jellyfish the next couple of lifetimes though. You might be a bit wary of swimming as well. It fades though. Given enough time everything fades. Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Maslow stood and they walked down a trail that had been stomped through the woods behind his childhood home. After a time they came upon a little boy that was sitting on a muddy bank, fishing with a cane pole and a red cork. Sparky approached the boy and somewhere between steps the dog became an elderly man.

“Raymond Smithers?” the elderly man asked. “What are you doing back so soon?”

“Abortion. I never saw it coming.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You want to hang around a few years and try her again?’

“Maybe,” the boy said, his eyes never leaving the drifting red cork. “I need some time.”

The elderly man reached down and kissed the boy on the forehead.

He turned back to Maslow and became a Boston terrier again. The path had turned concrete and the forest into buildings of stone and polished steel. Maslow watched a throng of people mill into a building with rounded domes and arches and a clay tile surface overlaid with copper. A thirty-foot tall lantern stood atop the highest dome. Maslow had first seen the Cathedral of St. Paul in Minneapolis and the very sight of it had taken his breath away. “Why are they going in there?”

“That is the Heterotopia. It’s a place where they can research their prospective parents.”

Maslow gasped. “You mean we can choose?”

“Of course. You can either choose or you can just dive on in.”

“Then why would anyone…? My father was a creep. He used to get drunk and…”

“There. There. It fades. It really does. A soul tends to grow more through adversity.”

“That seems backwards to me.”

“If you turn away, forward is backwards.”

A frantic man rushed towards Maslow shouting, “I blew it. I blew it.”

Sparky turned towards him and shifted into a man with broad shoulders. “What troubles you Aleksie Borislav?”

“Yesterday my wife tells me she is pregnant. I was overjoyed. I told everyone. I celebrated with my friends. The time, it flies. I look up and it’s late. I should not have driven. Now my child will not have a father. I blew it.”

“Start anew. It fades.”

“This won’t fade. Not ever. I can’t live without Magda. I can’t.”

“Your child is not spoken for yet.”

“Of course!” Aleksie exclaimed. “It fits perfectly. Thank you. Thank you.” Aleksie sprinted towards a sparkling fountain that gushed higher than a geyser and bounded inside.

The broad shouldered man turned and became a small dog.

Maslow smiled. “Is he going to return as his own son?”

“His own daughter to be precise.”

They walked over to the fountain and Maslow watched as a man ran towards it, shouted, “cockroach!”, and leapt inside.

“Did that man just decide to return as a cockroach?”

“Yes. Everyone passes his own judgment. He made several mistakes the last time through. He decided to backtrack a bit.”

“I once imagined that it would be fun to be an eagle. I used to dream I could fly. I would wake and for a moment feel a crushing loss. After a bit it would…”

“Fade?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly a bell rang out and everyone turned towards the fountain and clapped. High above a light flashed across the sky like a bottle rocket on a moonless night. Maslow was overcome with pride and adoration. He fell to his knees and wept. When he was done he stood and asked, “What was that?’

“Aliya Kamaria was accepted into hereafter. Only fifty-seven lifetimes, a quick learner.”

“When she died, was she happy?”

“Absolutely. She whispered what she had learned to her children and passed through with a smile.”

“What did she say?”

“Take your time.”

Maslow laughed and took a few cautious steps towards the roaring fountain. He stuck a tentative hand into the outer mist. It was warm. He glanced back, waved at Sparky, then turned forward and dove in.