The Editor's Choice for the October 2023 prompt: Machine in the Ghost

The summer sun ascended cloudless skies, its rays piercing clear waters below. Divine Coraline drifted through the midmorning calm, a gentle breeze flapping against its solar sails. Zeke and Mara sat on the catamaran’s foredeck, basking in the sunshine. Waves lapped against the boat's hull, their rhythmic motions imbuing Zeke with a peacefulness only the sea could offer.

 

“Are you ready to take the plunge, babe?” Mara stood over her husband, pushing his legs towards his supine body one at a time.

 

Zeke gazed out at the sea, unmoving, for a long while. “We'd best let the salt decide.”

 

"Oh, Zeke," said Mara, caught between tears and elation. "I know how long you’ve been waiting for this. But just take it easy this first go around. And absolutely no deep diving.” She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “I mean it.”

 

"Wouldn't dream of it," Zeke responded, propping himself up. He lunged forward suddenly, grabbing Mara by the cuff on her pants and playfully pulling her in until their brows touched.

 

“You’ve given so much of yourself during this rocky stretch. I know it's been just as burdensome on you as it has on me." Zeke's serious expression softened. "And one more thing, I kinda sorta love you.”

 

Their lips locked passionately, and nature quickly took its course.

 

Later, Zeke pulled on his diving gear. It had been five months since he’d last worn his wetsuit, but it clung to the contours of his body almost like a second skin. Adjusting his goggles and rebreather, Zeke looked hungrily at his lifelong sanctuary. Soon enough, friend.

 

“Have fun, babe!” said Mara, propping herself up on a beach towel. She waved seductively and blew Zeke a kiss.

 

He gave a thumbs up and leapt in.

 

As always, Zeke lost himself to the sea’s embrace. It secured him in a way nothing else could. His arduous, months-long recovery and rehabilitation suddenly felt far away down among the coral reefs. He swam towards a familiar outcropping of polyps, grazing fronds of seagrass with his fingertips. Schools of brightly colored fish flocked past. Algal masses rode the sea’s currents like spores drifting through the wind. It was humbling, drifting through that kaleidoscope of aquatic life. No matter what, the salt will always be here for me. He looked down at his fully functional body, moved to tears.

 

Zeke ventured further into the reef, but his mind strayed. While the physical therapy regimen had been effective, something still felt wrong. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. When Zeke broke the surface an hour and a half later, his mind was still troubled. And that was a first.

 

Back home, Zeke lay in his wife’s lap, deep in thought.

 

“What is it, babe?” Mara asked, stroking his hair.

 

He opened and closed his mouth before speaking. “Something’s been off ever since the accident.” Zeke rubbed the bridge of his nose, grasping for the right words. “Tiny… gaps in my memory. Inside jokes I don’t get, conversational references I don’t remember.” He sighed in exasperation.

 

“I know it's frustrating, but the doctors said your recovery would take time. I’ve tried to ease you through this, one step at a time. But there’s… a lot to take in…”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Zeke sat up suddenly, shifting towards his wife.

 

She hesitated.

 

“I need you to be straight with me, Mara,” he demanded. But the uncertainty in his voice said otherwise.

 

Mara took a deep breath and met her husband's gaze apprehensively, clenching his forearm with both hands.

 

“When your rebreather malfunctioned during the accident, we were deep, deeper than what I previously told you.” She paused, collecting herself. “You went without oxygen for over five minutes, Zeke.” Mara’s calm cracked, replaced by sobs. “The brain damage was irreversible… I’m so sorry for withholding the truth from you. I was just waiting for the right time…” She buried her face in a pillow.

 

Zeke shot up and stalked the living room, reeling with shock and confusion. He peered down at his hands, slowly turning them over, then felt the contours of his face.

 

“What the hell aren’t you telling me, Mara?” he shrieked.

 

Mara spoke between whimpers.

 

“The body you now inhabit is… a clone, but the memory transfer from your prior cerebral scan… was highly successful. A 99.9% coherence rate, the doctors said. But because of the two month span between your last scan and the accident, there were… unavoidable memory gaps.” Mara wiped her tear-streaked face and approached her husband. She gently cupped his face in her hands. “And that’s where I come in. Together, we’ll fill the empty spots, smooth them over with exciting new memories. Memories of the sea.”

 

Zeke looked out a kitchen window, into his backyard. Waves crested and lapped the shore, leaving salt-soaked artifacts in their wake. The sea always has a say.

 

“Is my old body still…alive?” Zeke squinted at his wife, scrutinizing every inch of her face.

 

“Yes, but—”

 

“I want to see him. To see me.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“It’s okay, Mara,” said Zeke, feeling his rage dissipate with the low tide. “I’m ready.”

 

* * *

 

A ventilator hissed softly, and tiny green and red lights glowed on an array of stacked medical devices. Zeke approached the foot of a nearby bed. In it lay an emaciated figure, one whose existence was secured by plastic tubing and intravenous liquids. Expressionless, Zeke stared at himself.

 

“That’s not me anymore,” he finally croaked, shaking his head from left to right. “It’s a ghost of who I once was, held captive by these machines.” He frowned at the cold, metal contraptions, knowing they could obstruct death, but never truly sustain life. Not like the sea could.

 

Zeke knelt next to the bedside and gently caressed his own pale forehead. He smiled sadly, bent over, and kissed his brow.

 

“Time to send you home, old friend. Time to let the salt decide.”