Robert Sheckley - Reborn Again

Ritchie sat up in bed. Wow, what a dream. He looked around. He touched his face—the new familiar face of Moise Grelich.

Ritchie said, “Grelich, are you there?”

No answer.

“Grelich! Come out! Don’t sulk. Let’s talk.”

Still nothing from Grelich.

“Oh, Grelich,” Ritchie said, his heart breaking, “where are you? Tell me you’re still here!”

“So nu, where else would I be?” Grelich’s familiar voice said in his head.

“Christ, you had me scared. I had this dream. I dreamed a rabbi was divorcing us.”

“Are we husband and wife that a rabbi should divorce us?”

“No, but we’re pretty close. Roommates. Mindmates. In some ways, closer than husband and wife.”

“What a line of gab you’ve got.”

“It’s not gab! I want you here. I want you to call Solomon and Esther and have them meet us at Ratstein’s this evening.”

“Consider it done. You want to talk to that Rumanian agent again? Ritchie have you no common sense?”

“If I think he’s too much of a shyster,” Ritchie said, “I won’t ask him to represent me. But maybe he’s an honest schlemiel . We’ll see.”

“I got some stories you could write,” Grelich said.

“I’ll be pleased to hear them.”

“That’s for tomorrow,” Grelich said. “For tonight, what do you say we get some more sleep?”

Ritchie grunted his assent. Again, Grelich fell asleep almost at once. Ritchie lay on the bed and watched the lights and shadows on the ceiling. At last he fell into a slumber. His last thought was, more than likely there would be a tomorrow for him as well as for Grelich.