Mr. Jordan Can Wait

Michael Martin thought he was just going to work...

This is not a stand-alone story. It is recommended you read Part 1 first. -- Ed

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I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. Everything seemed dark and my head was pounding. I could hear voices, but they seemed far away, as if they were in some kind of echo chamber.

I got one eye open, but my vision was blurred. I heard a voice; a man’s voice that said, “Everybody stand back. Give her some air.”

A girl’s voice said, “She’s waking up! Is she okay?”

I felt hands on my shoulders and head. A voice said, “Don’t move miss.”

Another girl’s voice said, “Oh Stephanie! Please be okay!”

Another man’s voice said, “Oh my God. How is her neck not broken! Did you see how she landed? I don’t even see any bruising.”

I could hear girls crying and a general hubbub going on around me. I just lay there, trying to get my eyes to focus. Everything about me felt totally wrong. It’s not like it’s a surprise or anything since Mr. Jordan told me, but it’s still a shock to find myself in a different body. And a different sex as well.

Someone shouted, “The ambulance is on the way!”

I managed to get the other eye open and my vision was a bit clearer. I was lying on the floor of a gymnasium. I saw girls in cheerleader uniforms and boys in football jerseys milling around. And something caught my eye from across the gymnasium.

Everything was sideways to me since I was lying on the floor, but on the opposite wall from me, I saw Mr. Jordan with a girl with long blonde hair, in a cheerleader uniform. He patted her comfortingly on the back as he led her through a door. He turned and just stared at me for a few moments. I guess he was retrieving that girl’s soul. Man, that job must suck.

Again I tried to sit up and again I was held down. A man’s voice said, “Don’t move, miss. If your neck is broken or fractured, you’ll make things worse by moving.”

I tried to say I was fine, but nothing came out of my mouth.

A woman looking like she was wearing some kind of coach uniform knelt next to me and said, “Just lay still, Steph. And don’t worry about the game tonight.”

There was a sound of something heavy and metallic rolling across the gym floor along with scuffling of feet. I felt my head being secured and then I was moved to a gurney. They raised it up and then I could tell someone was pushing the gurney at a run. In under a minute, I was being pushed into the back of an ambulance.

I was rolled into a small room in the hospital’s emergency department. The EMTs that brought me, left after making sure I was securely transferred to a hospital bed. I looked around the room as best I could with my head restrained. And there was Mr. Jordan.

“Mr. Jordan!” I said. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Mr. Jordan walked up to me. He kept looking around so he wouldn’t be caught off-guard should someone enter. He said, “I see you made it safely into Stephanie Pendleton’s body. I can’t change anything or give you much information, but I wanted to tell you Mr. Martin, that your parents are on their way in. Act happy to see them.”

I gave Mr. Jordan a confused look and said, “My parents or the girl’s parents?”

Mr. Jordan sighed and said, “The girl’s parents, Mr. Martin. You’re dead…”

A nurse walked into the small room, right past Mr. Jordan. To me she said, “Sweetie, the X-ray techs will be here in just a minute to take you down for x-rays. When they’re done, they’ll bring you right back here. Okay?” She gave me a toothy smile and left.

Before I could speak, Mr. Jordan said, “You’re the only one that can see me, Mr. Martin, because you’re dead. Like I was saying, everything about your old life is gone.”

“Mr. Jordan?” said an old man who stepped into the room with us. “I was told to see you here.”

From another room in the emergency department came the sound of a woman sobbing loudly, “No! It can’t be! He can’t leave me!”

The old man looked back in the direction of the woman’s voice and said, “Am I dead? I haven’t been able to walk in three years.”

Mr. Jordan said forcing a smile, “Yes, Mr. Mason. You must come with me.” Mr. Jordan turned towards me he said, “I can tell you that you must complete your mission soon. Good day, Mr. Martin…” He and the old man faded away just as a couple in their early forties came around the corner.

The woman put her hand over her mouth and cried out, “Oh my baby!” She had obviously been crying and started crying again as she rushed to my side. She must be the mother of the girl whose body I’m using. I thought of how much more crushed this woman would have been to have learned that her daughter had died.

The man, who must be the father hurried to comfort the woman. He said, “Oh my God Stephanie! We rushed here as soon as we heard about your fall.”

I couldn’t turn my head as it was still immobilized. I said, “Hey. It’s okay. I’m fine.” I knew I was unhurt and was getting really annoyed at being stuck on a bed. I had a mission.

The man…I guess I should start calling him Dad…said, “Let the doctors decide that, honey. You just rest and don’t move.”

Just then, two men and a woman in scrubs entered the small ED room I was in. One of the men said, “Excuse us. We’re going to take her down to Radiology. Dr. Venkataraman has also requested an MRI, so it may be a while before we bring her back. You might be more comfortable waiting in the lobby.”

Without waiting for a response, I was wheeled out of the small room and down the hall.

 

*          *          *
 

“They didn’t find anything wrong or broken?” said Maggie, another cheerleader on my squad. She was the twelfth caller I had so far since being released from the hospital Saturday morning after being held overnight for observation. “That has to be some kind of miracle!”

I said, “Miracle is the perfect word for it.” A Mr. Jordan miracle. According to the doctors at the hospital, the way I fell, I should have broken one or more neck vertebrae, severing the spinal cord with a brain damaging concussion. But all their tests revealed nothing. Not even a hairline fracture. Add the fact that a dead car accident victim was alive inside a dead teen girl’s body and I think you have a bona fide miracle.

Maggie said, “Well, everyone is so glad you’re okay. Oh, and you should have heard the cheer at the game last night when the announcer mentioned you. It was so great!” She was the twelfth person to tell me this today. I felt humbled even though I knew the cheers were for a dead girl, not me.

“I’m surprised they’d mention it,” I said feeling sad for the girl whose life I’d taken over.

Maggie laughed and said, “Everyone loves you, Steph. I should probably let you rest. See you Monday at school! Laters.”

“See ya,” I said as I hung up the phone. I looked up at the ceiling of what is now my room, put my hands together as if I was praying and said, “Please no more calls!”

In this respite from phone calls, I finally allowed myself to take an inventory of my new room. And to examine who I now was.

I looked down and saw I was wearing a pink camisole and pink pajama bottoms with little heart shapes all over them. Long blonde hair fell across my shoulders. The blue nail polish seemed odd to me as I looked at my new hands with delicate fingers, soft skin and longish nails. I stepped in front of the dresser with the mirror mounted on it. I was stunned into even more grief for this girl. She was beautiful. A framed picture on the top of the dresser with her wearing make-up and hair fixed was even more beautiful. The scruffy looking hipster guy in the picture with her was I assumed her boyfriend. Holy crap I have a boyfriend.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl in the mirror. Hesitantly, I pulled up the camisole I was wearing, exposing two perfect, firm and round breasts. I slid my finger on my areola and against the nipple of one breast. The sensation was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The nipple became erect and hard at my touch.

Just as I was about to start squeezing my breast, I suddenly pulled my hand away along with jerking the camisole down. I suddenly felt ashamed. I thought, oh my God, I’m a pervert! I’m feeling up a teenage girl! I’m going to get arrested!

And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d had a mental block against coming to grips over who and what I now was. I wasn’t copping a feel of some teen girl. I was simply exploring my own body. A body very unlike my previous one. Smooth skin over the tight, firm muscles of an athlete. Cheerleading obviously requires a lot of working out.

I tossed my hair over my shoulders a few times and struck what I thought were sexy poses. Before I knew it, I was making kissy faces at the mirror. I mentally slapped myself and changed my focus to the dresser. “Get a grip, Mikey old boy,” I said under my breath. I mentally slapped myself again. I really need to remember that I’m Stephanie now and not Michael.

The large array of pictures stuck to the dresser’s mirror showed me that Stephanie had a lot of friends. I’ve never known this many people in my whole life. I looked around at the walls and saw boy band posters, a couple of very girlish posters of pink and lavender with the word “Love” and a picture of a unicorn. Another poster with clashing colors read, “Girls Rule, Boys Drool” and a few posters of cheerleaders performing various stunts.

I opened the closet and found it stuffed to the gills with all kinds of clothes such as pants, skirts, dresses and all kinds of tops. Several pairs of shoes lined the bottom of the closet. The dresser contained several bras, dozens of panties, more pajamas, t-shirts and pantyhose. And just since this morning, almost every available flat surface was covered by dozens of well wishing flowers.

The inventorying of my new life was interrupted by a knock on my room’s door. Mom said, “Honey? Are you dressed? Hayden is here to see you.” I had no idea who Hayden was.

I opened the door and said, “I’m in my PJ’s, Mom.”

Mom smiled and said, “That’s fine. Just leave your door open. I’ll send him back.”

I sat on my bed and waited for whoever Hayden was to enter my room. When a scruffy, hipster boy, longish hair hanging in his face walked in, my first thought was, “Well, shit.”

Hayden flashed me a broad smile and then bent down and kissed me. I closed my eyes and cringed. I was being kissed by a guy. A guy who needed a shave. With the exception of Aunt Agnes, I’ve never been kissed by someone with stubble and quite frankly I could have gone my whole life without experiencing that. Well, in manner of speaking, I had gone my whole life.

As he sat next to me, Hayden said, “Hey babe. God, I was so worried about you. When I saw you fall during the pep rally, I tried to get to you, but I wasn’t allowed to get near you.” He put his arm around my shoulders and leaned the side of his head against mine. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I really thought you were dead.”

I brushed my hair from my eyes and said, “Yeah, me too.”

Hayden laughed and said, “I was freaked when I got a call from your parents. Not just freaked from them calling me, since I know they don’t like me much, but also because I was afraid of what I was about to hear. I was so relieved when they told me you were okay. Don’t tell anyone, but can you picture this? When they hung up, I started balling like a baby. I really thought I had lost you, babe.” He held both my hands.

I couldn’t take it any longer. Coupled with my own sadness at this girl’s death, knowing that this boy, and the girl’s parents and all her friends would be grieving her had I not taken her body, was all just too much. I started crying. Through sobs, I said, “I should be dead.”

Hayden looked at me, a small smile spreading across his face. He said, “But you’re not.” He cupped the side of my face with his hand, his fingers in my hair. “I won’t ever let you go.” He then leaned in and again kissed me. Longer this time, his tongue sliding briefly into my mouth.

He pulled back and I gave him a shy smile. I tried to not let his kiss bother me. To him, I was his girlfriend that he’s probably kissed many times. I had to brace myself that I had to expect him to kiss me again. Accepting that you’re now a girl after a lifetime of being male just is not easy. Not to mention that the girl who I now am, has had a life I know nothing about.

Hayden said, “Well, I need to go. Your mom said to stay only a few minutes since you’re supposed to rest. See you at school, babe.”

I smiled at him and said, “Thanks for coming by, Hayden. It’s very sweet.”

Hayden grinned at me, and then kissed me again. He said, “See ya.”

 

*          *          *
 

“I’m not going to quit cheerleading!” I almost shouted at Dad. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.

Furrowing his brow, Dad said, “You almost died yesterday! Only by the grace of God were you not hurt! Everyone I’ve talked to said that the way you landed should have killed you instantly.”

I’m not even sure why I’m arguing for staying in Cheerleading other than I’m pretty sure that Stephanie loved being a cheerleader. I tried, but no hidden memory of how to do a cheer would conjure itself up. And jumping around yelling silly cheers in front of huge crowds didn’t set well with me either.

“Yes, Dad,” I said, trying to calm my voice. “I realize it was by some miracle my neck wasn’t broken. But the fall was a freak accident. It won’t happen again!”

Dad started to speak, but Mom interrupted and said, “Honey, we’re just worried is all. That fall really scared us. We’ve seen the video of your fall and we can’t believe you’re standing here talking to us.”

Dad said, “We don’t have to decide right this minute. Miracles are hard to come by and you might not be so lucky next time.”

“Next time!” I exclaimed. “How long have I been cheerleading?” I really wished I knew the answer to that. “Has this ever happened before?”

Dad just looked at me and quietly said, “You broke your leg in the seventh grade.”

I just raised my arms and said, “Well, it didn’t kill me!” Dad just shook his head. I understood where they, my new parents, were coming from. As a parent myself, I understood completely.

 

*          *          *
 

The weekend passed by uneventfully. I spent most of Saturday night exploring my new body and all the delightful sensations it possessed. I decided I liked being a girl. If nothing else than for its entertainment value. But I did find Monday morning just how big of a pain being a girl was in getting ready to go to school.

I was both anxious and pissed about going to school. I was anxious to get going on trying to stop my daughter from doing whatever the heck it was she was going to do to upset the Grand Plan. And I was pissed because, well, I always hated going to school and now here I was back again.

Getting ready for school meant getting up early, so I’d have time to shower, put on my make-up and get dressed. At first I just stood there in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at little jars and bottles. Somehow I felt compelled to wear make-up. And then suddenly a few memories drifted into my head and applying make-up was no longer a deep mystery to me.

I’d spent the weekend practicing getting dressed. I remembered my wife putting on her bra by hooking it in front and then rotating it to its correct position. I tried and gave up trying to hook it from behind. I tried on a bunch of the clothes that hung in my closet over the weekend as well. I decided on a loose fitting t-shirt and a short denim skirt for my first foray into high school.

After getting dressed I rushed into the kitchen to see if I could find something to eat in the short amount of time before I would have to leave for school. Dad was already halfway through his breakfast. I would ride with him and he’d drop me off at school on his way to work.

As we walked out to his car, Dad said, “If you wanted to stay home and get some more rest, I’m sure the school would excuse you today.”

I tossed my book bag into the back seat and said honestly, “I’m tired of resting. And I feel fine.” And I needed to somehow establish contact with my daughter, Lillith.

Dad shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”

We just listened to the car radio on the way to school. It was only about a five minute drive that I could have easily walked.

Just before I exited the car, Dad said, “Be good.” He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

I jumped out of the car and grabbed my book bag from the back seat and said, “Bye Dad. Have fun at work.” He just groaned and drove away.

I stepped off the side walk to open my book bag and remove the notebook. Fortunately for me, Stephanie had kept her class schedule on a sheet of paper stuffed in the little pencil bag. I pulled it out and studied it. I’d been to this school on numerous occasions to take Lillith home or the doctors so I think I vaguely knew my way around.

I looked down the sidewalk from where I was standing and watched the throng of kids mobbing the front door of the school. Several kids, boys and girls alike would say “Hi Steph” as they walked by. My knees started to shake. I really didn’t think I could do this. It’s one thing to pass yourself off as someone to just a handful of people. But for a whole school full of people? Kids and teachers both? I started to lose my nerve.

I called out, “Mr. Jordan! Mr. Jordan! Can you help me?” People walking past me gave me really strange looks.

From behind me, a less familiar voice said, “Lower your voice, Mr. Martin! You’re attracting attention!” I turned around and there was the nervous Mr. Henry leaning against the school wall.

I said, “I need to speak with Mr. Jordan.”

Looking slightly pained, Mr. Henry said, “He’s busy, Mr. Martin. Why did you call for us?”

Frowning and ignoring his question, I said, “What do you mean he’s busy? I need him now.”

Sounding annoyed, Mr. Henry fidgeted as he said, “You didn’t watch the news? That big earthquake in Peru? Trust me, he’s busy.”

Brushing some loose strands of hair from my face, I said, “Sorry. I didn’t know. But you need to help out, Mr. Henry. I don’t think I can go through with this. Virtually everyone in that building knows me and I don’t know them. It’s just too intimidating!”

Mr. Henry said, “You know that people walking by see you talking to the wall, right? Anyway, you must bring yourself to overcome your fears and try to contact your daughter. That’s the only reason you’re here…”

I interrupted him and almost shouted, “The only reason I’m here is that you screwed up and accidently killed me!”

Scowling, Mr. Henry said, “Trust me, I hear about that every day. But to the point, you must go in and find a way to stop your daughter.”

I put my palms together as if to pray and said, “That’s why I called for Mr. Jordan. I need his help! I can’t do this alone. Please help me.”

Shrugging, Mr. Henry said, “I’m sorry, but Mr. Jordan was quite clear on this. We cannot offer any assistance. We can only do things like nudge memories when you need them. But your actions, and actions by your daughter, must be your own. It has to be free will.”

I just stared at him for a moment and said, “What about the Grand Plan? All those lives affected if I can’t do it?”

Shrugging again, Mr. Henry said nervously, “C’est la vie. It’s just how we roll. But you must succeed. Countless lives depend on you. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s been a traffic pile up in Los Angeles.” Mr. Henry faded away.

Well that’s just great, I thought. I put the notebook back in my bag and hefted the heavy bag to one shoulder. I joined the rest of the students in walking into the school building.

I was just about to go through the school’s doorway when I stopped short. There she was, coming towards me. It was Lillith! My heart filled with sadness as I watched her approach. What happened to the cute little girl that I used to sit with and drink imaginary tea from a small cup along with a few of her favorite dolls? She was painfully thin, with pale skin and a sallow complexion, her eyes focused on the ground in front of her. Her once pretty and flowing blonde hair dyed jet black and hung limply around her shoulders. She was wearing black lipstick and heavy eyeliner and her nails painted black. She used to smile easily, but her face was a blank, neutral mask.

As she passed me, I stepped in behind her. With a couple of quick steps, I was walking beside her. I said as brightly as possible, “Hey, Lillith! How was your weekend?”

She looked up at me briefly with sullen eyes and said, “It sucked. I envy you for almost dying. You probably should have. Being finally free would be so cool.”

Shocked that she’d say such a thing, I said, “Actually, it’s kinda boring. But you shouldn’t talk that way.”

Without looking at me, she said, “Why not?”

I said, “You have your whole life in front of you. You don’t want to just throw that away!”

Lillith grunted and said, “You sound like my dad. He’s dead.”

That hit me like bucket of ice water. I had to fight back tearing up. I said, “You want to have lunch together?”

Lillith stopped walking and looked at me square in the eye. She said, “I don’t know what game you’re playing or if you think because you almost died you should go around getting back with old friends, but…and don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck off, okay?” She turned and walked away.

I watched her disappear in the crowd of kids. My heart grew heavy with sadness. What led her down this path? She was doing this before I died, but not to this extreme.

A girl, who I somehow knew was Maggie, walked up to me and said, “Hey Steph! I’m so very glad you’re okay! But why were you talking to that trash? She’s such a loser.”

I heaved a heavy sigh and said, “I’m trying to do my good deed for the day.”

Maggie laughed and said, “Good luck with that!”

 

*          *          *
 

The End of Part 2