Thank you for calling the Reincarnation Hotline. We are currently experiencing a higher than usual call volume, which may result in a longer wait time. Please stay on the line and a representative will assist you as soon as possible. Be assured that your call is very important to us. This call may be monitored or recorded for quality control.
Calvin Holloway – or at least the soul occupying Calvin Holloway – was nothing if not patient. It had done this dance many, many times before, although this was the first time reincarnation business was being conducted over the telephone. A lift music version of Tina Turner’s I Might Have Been Queen played on a continuous loop, and the Soul found itself mindlessly humming the tune as it awaited the chance to talk with an agent.
Holloway, 32, would die in a workplace accident on Halloween. He’d leave behind a wife and young daughter, and plenty of family and friends who’d miss him. All in all, he was a kind human being. The soul made it so, working from Holloway’s first moment to mold him into the person he would ultimately become. Souls could chase the light or wallow in darkness, and this soul had always wanted to shine. That being the case, the spirit about to exit Holloway was confident it would find a happy – albeit temporary – home once Holloway was gone.
Finally, the recorded music stopped and there was a slight delay.
“Thank you for calling the Reincarnation Hotline, this is Shanti, how may I help you?”
“Hi, Shanti, I’m the soul of Calvin Holloway … he’s scheduled for transition tomorrow at 10:16 a.m., Central Daylight Time, in Lake County, Illinois, United States. My ID number is 65309827630987156242470.”
The soul heard the rapid clacking of a keyboard.
“Just looking that up for your right now, 65309827630987156242470, and thank you so much for having that information handy,” Shanti said. “The transitioner is Calvin, C-A-L-V-I-N, Holloway, H-O-L-L-O-W-A-Y, reborn March 16, 1992, in Des Moines, Iowa, United States. Is that correct?”
“It is. He’s a lineman for the county, and tomorrow he’s going to be electrocuted while performing maintenance from his bucket truck.”
“Oh,” Shanti said. “Like that Glen Campbell song.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“You said he’s a lineman for the county … it reminded me of that song Wichita Lineman by Glen Campbell. You know … I am a lineman for the county, and I drive the main road, searchin’ in the sun for …”
“Oh, OK … gotcha,” the soul said. “Never really thought about it before.”
The clacking resumed.
“Just for our records, could you name the past three vessels you’ve inhabited, along with the years of inhabitation?”
“Sure,” said the soul. “There was Rita Showalter from 1933-1992; Atrem Boyko, 1874-1933; and Hattie Grant, 1837-1874. I’ve memorized almost all of them if you need more, of course we’d be here a while.”
“Oh, no, 65309827630987156242470,” Shanti said with a chuckle. “Just needed the three most recent and again, thank you for having that information ready. Now, how may I help you today?”
This soul had been, well, a good soul, so it always wound up helping humans be the best versions of themselves. It wondered, though, what it would be like to inhabit an animal again.
Instead of dealing with all that entails functioning in an industrial society, a simpler existence might be welcome – at least for a while.
“I realize you guys have these things lined up already, but I was wondering if maybe it would be possible to be a dog on my next occupancy,” it said. “Not that I’m complaining about any of my assignments – they’ve all been rewarding – but I was just hoping maybe after all these eons I could try it again. That’s where I started, and I kinda miss it.”
There was a brief pause followed by furious clacking.
Then there was another pause.
Then more clacking.
“OK, 65309827630987156242470,” Shanti said, “You have been a terrific soul from the outset and you’ve never received anything but exemplary marks. I’m looking at your record now and it’s quite impressive. But I have to tell you, it’s really, really hard to get matched with a dog in this particular era. We get that request quite a bit as I’m sure you can imagine, and we turn down thousands more than we accept.”
The soul sighed.
“I don’t know if this is your area of expertise, but is there any advice you can give me … I mean, is there something in particular I need to do to get a dog gig again?”
“I wish I knew what to tell you,” Shanti said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “I’d say just keep doing what you’re doing, and your odds will get better each time. As you know, there’s no higher honor than being a canine’s soul. Once you begin that journey, you also learn about the souls of humans. And unfortunately, you don’t always like what you learn, which is why we try to place the souls of very good dogs into people in an effort to make them very good … or as good as possible. You and souls like you are desperately needed in that capacity. But at some point, I’m sure you’ll go back in the canine rotation.
“Now, according to our records, Nori Yoshida, who will be born at 12:16 p.m., November 1, in Tokyo, Japan, is your next stop. You’ll guide her as she becomes a childhood educator and I know you’ll do a wonderful job, as always.”
“OK,” the soul said. “I appreciate the opportunity. One last question… I met this great dog about 40,000 years ago and its soul was the personification of good. I think the ID was 11786340086391205348529. Any idea where it might be today?”
Shanti did a quick search on her computer.
“I got that information right here,” she said. “It’s inhabiting Dolly Parton. Is there anything else I can help you with, 65309827630987156242470?”