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THE SOUL EXCHANGE By Raven. Not so long ago the archangel Peter decided to take the celestial equivalent of a coffee break. After all he had been working for all of eternity as the one who chronicals the path of souls without a break. The chronicaller of souls is an important job up in heaven. Not only do you have to stand at the gates of heaven with the Book of Souls and detemine who is to be allowed passage, and who is to go to Hell, but you have to make sure that all of the souls that come out of heaven, either for the first time, or to be reincarnated, get into the proper bodies to be born. When Peter went on his short break, he left an apprentence angel named Noelle in charge. Before he left, Peter instructed Noelle on her exact duties. De- termining who was to be allowed entry into heaven was not very hard. All you had to do was look into the Book of Souls and check Peter's notes. For all of those souls that were expected to come in while Peter was gone, he had placed an arrow going up and down. No, the two hardest jobs was to write in the notes that were obtained by the guard- ian angels out in the field, and to make sure that the souls coming out of heaven were placed in the correct bodies as marked in the book. Peter gave an extra warning for the later duty. Peter warned that if the souls were not placed into the proper bodies bad things could happen! Now time does not pass up in heaven as it does down on earth. One minute up in heaven is equal to about 10 years down on earth. Peter was on his short break for about 10 minutes as it is measured in Heaven Stand- ard Time (hst). Down on earth approximately 100 years, or a century passed. Noelle was known in celestial circles as being very intelligent, but having a very short atttention span. She found the duties that she was delegated to be very easy. After about 7 minutes in HST, Noelle grew very bored. She thought about her life on earth before coming to heaven. She thought about all of those times that she was looked down upon or mistreated or abused just because she was a woman. Noelle never let the behavior of those men ever get to her, and she never sought revenge, or even harbored a bad thought about them. She only thought that if they knew what it was like to be in that position, that they would behave differently. Things would be a lot better! It was then that Noelle realized that she could do something about it. For the next 2 minutes, in HST, she took some of the souls which were male and placed them into female bodies, and took the displaced female souls and placed them into male bodies. Noelle did so not out of malice, but out of a genuine concern out of the way relations between the sexes were going. She cared enough to want to do something to help! For the next minute, before Peter returned, Noelle watched as the displaced souls began to grow up. By the time Peter returned to his post, the "Displaced" were between 10-20 years old. Noelle had not recorded her transactions in the Book of Souls, and she left her temporary post thinking that she had done good with no one the wiser. However, there is an old saying that nobody can play God, except for God. It took Peter about 2 minutes in HST to figure out that something was wrong. The reports from the guardian angels in the field showed an unusual trend down on earth. Women, especially those in the United States, were pushing for equal rights and becoming more aggressive and assertive. In short, some of the women were beginning to act like men, and want the things men traditionally wanted. By contrast, a portion of the men, again, those particularly in the United States, were kinder and gentler. They were beginning to get in touch with their emotions and nurturing sides. In short, some of the men were beginning to act like women. The most suprising thing is that the change in the men was prompted by the women! It was almost if women were becoming dominant, and the men subservient. Homosexuality was on the rise, and more and more men were crossdressing or even undergoing surgical sex-changes. Something was clearly amiss. Peter calculated the age of those that were effected and realized that the problem appeared to start during his break. He questioned Noelle about her watch. He asked her if anything strange or unusual happened that wasn't recorded in the book. He explained what was happening down on earth, and that if not corrected would lead to disaster. Noelle reluctantly confessed what she had done. Because here intentions were pure, Peter was not angry with her. However the problem had to be corrected. To make matters worse the names of the effected souls, who were officially dubbed "The Displaced", were not recorded within the Book of Souls. It would be almost impossible to sort out the Displaced from other people who were just sick or following a fad. The only angel who had any idea who the Displaced were was Noelle, who was responsible for their displacement in the first place. It was quickly decided that, since Noelle had a unique point of reference her punishment would be to go to earth and return the displaced souls at least to the body of the proper gender. She could not return to Heaven until such time as her task was complet- ed. Noelle was not given any way to located the Displaced other then her own angelic memory, her angelic abilities to empathically sense the feelings of others (and thereby understand them completely), and to pluck the souls out of its bodily shell. Usually souls were plucked out of there bodies to be guided to Peter after death. However, Noelle was given special permission from God himself to pluck a soul out of a body before death in order to set the Displaced right. In this manner Noelle was discharged from Heaven and sent upon her special mission. She quickly became known as the "Angel of the Displaced." The first thing that she noticed was the slow passage of time on earth. Even a year seemed like a century in HST time. Noelle used the time well. She honed her angelic abilities to such a degree that she could hear the emotional cries of the displaced. After locating one of the displaced, the only problem was to locate another Displaced of the opposite gender so that she could exchange them. Unfortunately, she could not alter their memories. Each of the Displaced that she was able to exchange remembered their prior identity and life. Each knew they were now in a new body. Fortunately, there were residual memories within the new bodies that let them quickly assimilate and adapt. The adaptation was made easier from the inital over- powering sensation of rightness. The feeling was described most often as asensation of being home after a long absence. Having developed her skills, Noelle set out to correct the problems of the Displaced. It took her quite sometime to locate her first pair of displaced souls. Fortunately, it they were a couple by the name of Tristan and Amber. They were a couple in trouble, and when Noelle met them the relationship was all but dead and buried. Noelle had read their souls, and saw that they were really and truly ment to be together. A simple exchange of souls had saved their love. It was after this encounter that Noelle took the last name of Swan and constructed a human identity for herself. She was encouraged by the success of the first exchange. She took the name of a character in a story written by Tristan before he became Amber. Despite her encouragement, Noelle had realized that, even with her abilities, it had taken her a while to locate these two displaced souls. She estimated that she had displaced hundreds of thousands of souls. Finding them and exchanging them at random would take her forever. They would all be dead before she could exchange them all, and they would be reincarnated, still in the wrong gender. It would be an end- less cycle! There is no telling the permenent damage that could be done. She had to reach more people quicker. Noelle decided to take advantage of the worldwide communications phenonmenon called the internet, and set up a web site. She called the web site THE SOUL EXCHANGE. Noelle surmised that if people whom she helped wrote in with their own stories, and how she could be found, it would encourage the displaced to call to her through the ether. Noelle asked all of those whom she has helped to write in and contribute their stories. She asked them to describe what their lives were like beforehand, how Noelle was able to find them, who they were exchanged with, and what their lives are like now. People answered her plea. Here is one such story: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AT FIRST SIGHT They say that the heart is a lonely hunter. None more so than mine. Ever since I can remember, I have been backwardly shy, and reticent. Even though I have been blessed with above average looks, I have always had the feeling that something inside of me was broken. I was flawed. It is nearly impossible for me to talk to a woman. When I am out at a party, for example, and see someone that I would like to know better, I am most likely to be on the opposite side of the room. It is almost as if there is an invisible barrier forbidding my approach. Intellectually, I knew that it is nothing more than a mental block. However, it might as well be a castle wall and a moat. To me, it is nigh to a physical force. These thoughts came so easily to me, as I stood in front of the exhibit at the museum. Someone once said to me that I run from my pain, yet hold it so close. There were various artworks displaying nudes by different artists. Looking at them made me.....sad. They reminded me of what I didn't have in my life. I sighed deeply. Isn't it better to accept your destiny then to fight futiley against it? Somehow, that rationalization did nothing to force down the lump in my throat, and the nausea in my stomach. Perhaps that is the right physical reaction when you realize that your destiny is to forever walk alone.... My musings were interrupted by the touch of another upon my elbow. From behind me I heard a woman's voice say: "Isn't it odd that such a joyous and natural thing should evoke such....sorrow?" I turned slightly to see a striking young woman. She was tall and thin, yet delicate. Her skin seemed almost too white, her blonde hair too golden. There was some aura about her, something pure and uncomplicated. If I had to pick one word to describe her, I would have to say....angelic. What disturbed me the most was how she seemed to have read my mind. "Excuse me?" I asked her. "It is just that....you looked so sad, just then." "I'm sorry," I apologized as I began to move away from her. My invisible barrier jumped up between us, forcing me away. "....please. Don't go. Talk to me." Her simple request was innocent andstraightforward. There was not a trace of artifice in her musical voice . I choked down the urge to just turn and run. Normally, that is what I would do. Yet, her voice was strangley soothing. I actually felt my heartbeat lower, which gave me the courage to stay where I was. She extended a delicate hand, introducing herself. "My name is Noelle. I have just come to this area." I introduced myself, taking her hand and shaking it. "It is very nice to meet you. My name is Remington de Vasquez, but my friends call me Remy. What brings you to town?" My voice, at least, communicated my anxiety! "Oh you might say that something just attracted me here. It almost compelled me to come." I looked at her oddly. What a strange thing to say! I summoned up all of the remaining courage within my being to ask her: "Would you like to go and get some coffee, or something, and talk?" She smiled warmly at me. It was a smile that could light up a room. It was a smile that made me feel perfectly safe for some reason. This woman was able to put me perfectly at ease. "That would be very nice Remy...." We went to a little coffee shop that stands next to the museum. I think we sat and talked for hours. What was strange was that, even though she was attractive, I wasn't attracted to her in that way. I can't remember when I have felt that comfortable around anyone. Noelle seemed to know me, the real me. Noelle asked me if I knew of a club named "Sanctuary." I did. However, it was not a place that I frequented. My bachelor friends and I usually went elsewhere. Sanctuary was more of a dance club. Noelle surprised me when she asked me if I would meet her there at midnight, tonight? It was not anything that I expected, nor something I would have asked her on my own. I did agree to meet her. Before we separated to go our separated ways, she took my hand, squeezing it, and whispering, "Have faith Remy." Her simple gesture touched me in a way that I could not explain. I watched her walk away. I was so moved that tears leaked from a wellspring of emotion. I could feel a single tear now streak down my cheek, marking my face, as I recall those events of earlier today. It's 12:30 am. The hurt is twisting in my gut over being stood up, making every- thing I sensed about Noelle a cruel lie. I guess that I shouldn't have any expected less. Destiny once again. I passed up a chance to go out with the rest of my friends, so that I could come to this place. There was a swirl of maddening energy all around me as people danced, jostled about, or spoke excitedly. There was the murmur of light romantic liasons being made. As usual, I felt like a stranger looking in at life. I raised my eyes to survey the outsider that I was in the mirror- ed wall directly in front of me. He looked, for all of the world, like your average, socially acceptable type. Taller than most, dark blonde, and clean cut. Only the brooding countenance defied the image, suggesting there was something more going on under- neath the surface. A flicker of movement caught my attention in the mirror, draw- ing my eyes away from the ritual of self-inspection. It was a pretty woman sitting at the bar, playing with her hair. She was tossing it back and forth, fluffing it, tousling it. It was something that I al- ways found intoxicating in women with very long hair. I couldn't help but stare at her. However, her beauty was over- whelmed by a look of boredom upon her face. I turned around to get a better look at her. I couldn't comprehend why a woman such as she could be bor- ed. Other guys around the room, also looking at her. She was by far, the best looking woman in the place. Although she was sitting, I could tell that she was short, maybe 5'2" at best. She was very dark, probably of Italian descent. From across the room I could tell that she had dark brown eyes, that com- plemented her thick, heavy brunette hair. Her luxurious tresses cas- caded over her shoulders to her waist. The woman was wearing a short skirt, and tight top. It showed off her extremely slender, lithe body. Her breasts were on the small side. The effect was almost elfin. Most guys would go for a woman that was a little taller, bigger breasts a necessity. Not me. This fem- inine creature was everything, and more that I desired in women. Even as these simple truths dawned upon me, I knew that I would never so much as say one word to her. I felt the familiar shyness well up within me. It was so oppressive, an invisible barrier preventing me from approaching what could be the girl of my dreams. I sighed deeply, wrapping my despair about me like a cloak. The woman began to turn her head toward me. I felt the need to run....and fast. It was almost as if she had heard my sigh, and was seeking out its source. Her dark eyes glanced up, locking on to mine. I couldn't look away. It seemed like time itself stood still. I felt myself falling into those eyes. I had never felt so close, or wanted anyone so much in my entire life. Suddenly, I felt faint. The entire room was a blur. I felt a hand at my back. A male voice inquired, "Are you all right? You almost fell off of your seat." What was he talking about? Why was I sitting? The last thing I remembered was standing, looking at my dark mystery woman. My vision was beginning to clear. Somehow, in a way I couldn't comprehend, I was on the other side of the room. "I'm okay. Thanks ...." I assured, stopping in mid-sentence. My voice was so very high, light, and soft. I tried to clear my throat, and speak again, "....I'm okay." My voice was still n octave higher than normal. By this time, my vision cleared, and I knew exactly hy my voice was higher. I was sitting on a bar stool looking aross the expanse of the club at myself! I blinked twice, just to make sure that I was not imagining this, that I was seeing what I was seeing. There he.... I'....was staring at me' with a thunderstruck look on his'.... my' face. I looked down at myself.' I was wearing the same tight top, and short skirt that the woman was wearing. In some fantastic way, I had switched bodies with the object of my desire.. There was still a broad hand in the middle of my back, supporting me. I turned my head to see who it was. As I did, I felt the lay of thick heavy hair on my shoulders and back. The sheer weight of such a mass of hair pulled at my scalp, and at the base of my neck. It was one of the other guys that had been checking her out. I shiv- ered involuntarily, realizing that I was in such a vulnerable position. I put my hand on his to push it away. He didn't let go, interpreting my gesture as an effort to hold his hand. "What's your hurry, beautiful? Can I buy you a drink?" He was looking right into my' eyes. I could see the depth of his desire for me'....her! The intensity of his longing sent a shiver through my' body. Another voice spoke from behind me. "H-she's with me. I would appreciate it if you would leave hi-her alone." It was my voice, or more accurately, my old voice. My' head whipped around toward the voice, causing my' long hair to swing. It came across one shoulder, falling into place across my' breast. Sure enough, it was the owner of the body I now wore protecting herself' with my body! The other guy lamented, sheepishly, "Uh....sorry man. You were across the room staring at her just like I was. I just assumed...." He didn't finish the thought, choosing instead to avoid further embarrassment by just walking away. That left the two of us alone, in each other's bodies, to confront the situation. My body asked, "Uh.....let's get a booth so we can talk in private...." My body spoke with the tone and vocal inflection that I was always used to. It was eerie sitting there seeing myself' move and talk, like nothing had changed, yet not under my consious control. For a second, it made me dizzy, and a little disoriented. That's probably a good idea." I added in what I guessed to be a per- fect imitation of her voice. "Otherwise, peolpe who overhear us may think we are crazy...." I stood up, standing next to my body. I think she heard me gasp as I saw how short I now was. I was looking right into her chest. She looked down at me, admitting sympathetically, "I know. It's wild being suddenly so tall too." In the blink of an eye, I was surrounded by a throng of people all taller than I. I couldn't see over or around anyone! I had to rely upon her, with her' superior vantage point to find a secure area. She lead the way to a booth that was abandoned. I found it extremely unnerving that I was easily able to walk in her high heels. My' body also moved and swayed with a natural feminine grace that imagined mirrored the way she actually walked. The sensation of walking, or moving about was so alien. It took all of my concentration to manage without going crazy. Everything on my' body moved at the same time, and some time not in the same direction. Even though the soft swells on my chest were relatively small, they moved up and down with each step. I could feel long hair swing back and forth against my back. I felt so light that I though I could float away. The whole thing just made me feel so....out of control. I was having a very hard time grasping the abscence of resistence be- tween my legs! We both dove into the booth. She was on one side, and I on the other. We just looked at each other for a long minute. Her sensation of movement had to be just as maddening as mine! Without so much as a word, she reached out with my body, across the table, touching my' face, my' cheek. I understood the urge. It was a need to make sure that this wasn't a dream by making physical contact with your own body. Unfortunatey my' arms weren't long enough anymore to reciprocate the gesture. In the end, I just ended up ouching the arm and hand which caressed my' cheek. She spoke first. "This is wild!" "To say the least." She lowered her' hand, to introduce herself, "Hi. I'm Tara. And you are?" I actually had to scoot forward in the bench seat of the booth to take her' hand. I was not used to so much space when sitting in a booth. The edge of the table rose only to my' chest level, rather than the level of my abdomen, as it usually did. My' reach made me lean forward into the edge of the table. I tried to hide the astonishment that I imagined to be on my' face, as my' breasts flattened onto the vertical edge of that table. I placed my' hand into her' large, powerful hand. The diffrence in size was nothing short of breathtaking. "Remy." "Cool name!" "How did this happen to us?" "I don't know....this should be impossible." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone moving toward the booth. It was Noelle. "Noelle?" both Tara and I called out at the same time. We looked back at each other, blurting simultaneously in disbelief, "You know Noelle?" Our sychronicity made us spontaneously laugh at one another. She gestured toward me, trying to be humorous, "Ladies first...." I thought the gesture to lighten the mood ill-placed. "Very funny. I was supposed to meet Noelle here." I looked back to Noelle to have her confirm my statement, not realizing, in this guise, she would not recognize me. She was gone. "Really?" Tara asked with a sound of surprise in her'....my voice. "I was supposed to meet Noelle here also." "Do you know Noelle? I just met her this afternoon," "Me too! It seemed like I had known her all of my life. She listened to me whine about not being able to finding someone to love." "This is too weird. I bent her ear about being so shy, about not being able to approach a woman who I am attracted to." Tara seemed unconcerned with the fact that we were now in the wrong bodies. Noelle's connection appeared to our pligh appeared to be unim- portant. Her atention was drawn instead to my personal problems. "Why are you so shy? You are nice looking, and appear to be a good guy. You would have no problem....." "Really? You noticed?" "Sure. Who in the club are you attracted to?" I hesitated. "Uh....um.....you!" "Me?" "Yes. I felt drawn to you right away. It was almost like gravity." "Then why didn't you come over to me. Why didn't you try and talk to me? "It was my shyness. I thought you were either with someone, or you would just say no." Tara placed her' hand upon mine' which was still resting on the table. "Darling, you shouldn't have been frightened. I wouldn't ever hurt you. I came here to meet someone sincere like you." I felt heat rush to my' face as I blushed. She used an endearment. She really liked me for me! A look of sadness swept across her'....my face. She was quite for a moment. "I hate that. Everybody always thinks that, so I never get to meet anybody nice. The only ones who do approach me are creeps or guys who just want sex. It's so frustrating! I've often wished that I could just take matters into my own hands.... The only problem is that everybody then thinks you are a slut, and you are worse off then before." "I'm sorry." I whispered. "I wish that I could make it all better." There was no sound, save for the beat of two hearts falling into perfect time: two incomplete souls being completed. What would be the sound of two beings connecting on every level? Maybe it was the crackle of romantic energy in the air! "It's funny," Tara whispered. "What is?" I inquired. "If this never would have happened, we never would have spoken. You would have never have approached me." "You're right....unfortunately." She squeezed my' hand to let me know that we were in this together. It was funny. From that point, we seemed to forget that we were in each others bodies. That "problem" seemed to just fade away. We were so intox- icated in the discovery of each other that we sat and talked for hours. Each word that she said from my body made me fall in love with her. She was the most incredible person that I had ever met. Tara was a single mother of an 11 month old daughter. Her name was, of all things, Faith! Tara had never married the father of the child, who just left her upon learning of the pregnancy. She went through childbirth alone. He didn't help with the bills....or anything. Tara was so crushed that she had, only now, worked up the courage to try again. Here was a person, despite all of the crippling pain in her life, who had the strength to risk everything, the strength to try again. It was courage that I wanted very much....to take a chance. It turned out that we shared interests, and beliefs. The most amazing thing was that we had to look beyond the alien shells that we occupied to see the real person underneath. Who would have imagined that, under our skin, we are all the same. Tara was a person that I liked very much, one that I want- ed to spend a lot of time with. I've heard it said that when you meet "the one," you just know it. You sense it. I could tell that she was "the one." By the way she was looking into my eyes, I could tell that she felt the same way. Tara and I were hopelessly in love with one another. "Do you want to get out of here?" she asked. We had spent so much time on each other, that we totally forgot the problem at hand. I asked, "How do we get back to our real bodies?" as we arose from the booth. She embraced me,' picking me' up, and spinning me' around. It was a carefree, playful embrace of pure joy, the joy of finding each other. "I don't know," she replied, setting me down. Then she kissed me on my lips, deeply. Our first kiss. I could feel the emotion behind the kiss, so I re- turned it. Our tongues met, joining as one. I could feel my' body respond in the only way that it could. I knew that her' body would be doing the same. "Darling? You don't ever have to be shy again. All of the pain and fear that caused you to be shy just aren't yours anymore. You are a whole new person who doesn't have any reason to be bashful...." With her words, a monumental weight was lifted off of my shoulders. It occured to me that I was no longer shackled to the burden of that other self' I had created. I was free. I could see my whole future blossom in front of me. I kissed her this time. It felt....right somehow, even if it meant I was now ....a mother? I felt comfortable in my' body. I even felt good! Tara whispered, "If we didn't get our bodies back it wouldn't be so bad. As long as I had you!" I felt warm all over, particularly in my chest and loins. I took her hand into mine. "I feel the same way, sweetheart!" We both knew that it was right. Everything was as it should be. Love at first sight: Tara and Remy, Remy and Tara. We left hand in hand to consummate the rush of new love. We would never, ever be alone again! After all if you love somebody, really love somebody, does it truly matter what body you're in? NO!