Chapter 13: Tuesday July 4th, 2056
Andrew wakes up, but doesn't want to open his eyes. It's half past four in the morning. Everyone is sleeping. The thoughts are keeping Andrew awake, while he is rummaging around underneath his blanket. He suddenly stops.
[I can't sleep.]
He throws the bedspread off of himself and sits up straight, looking at his desk on the other side of the room.
[I don't want to do it. I promised myself not to do it while in a relationship, and I've kept my promise ever since that day. Don't do it. It makes sense. My blood was pumped out and another liquid took its place for almost forty years. I heard that much from when I signed up.]
Andrew has his right hand between his legs, but also holding it back with his left hand.
[I guess my hormones were gone or something. Maybe they made fresh blood instead of pumping back the old stuff, it makes sense. Stop it, right hand!]
He pulls away his hand from between his legs and quickly pulls up his pyjamas.
[I sound like a mental patient with a personality disorder like that. I need to keep my thoughts in control too. Don't do it. Don't masturbate. Calm down. I can keep myself in control, I know that. Just lay down, and go back to sleep. Don't think about anyone. I'm thirty-nine years clean, this November that is. That sounds so odd.]
He pulls the blanket over himself again, and lets out a deep sigh.
[Looks like I'm good.]
He closes his eyes, and a few minutes pass.
[I don't remember when I started wearing pyjamas again, I never wore them before.]
At nine in the morning, Andrew is wakes up by someone knocking on his door.
"Come in." He says.
The door opens, and Helen goes inside.
"Good morning, did you sleep well?" She asks.
"Not really, had a lot of thoughts throughout the night."
"About the letter?"
"Among other things, but mostly that."
Helen's face shows worry, with a tinge of compassion worked into it. She walks up to him and closes the door behind her.
"I feel you." She says. "I've also heard things that have kept me up at night, mainly from my mother. She always had beautiful stories to tell that kept me up the next few nights. She told me they were about a fictional friend she made up, but they all felt authentic."
Andrew doesn't have anything to respond, so a silence falls upon the room. His mind is empty as well.
"Anyway, shall we have breakfast first, and then read the letter?" Helen asks.
Andrew gets up from his bed. "That's … a good idea." He takes off his pyjamas and puts on his regular clothes, after which they leave the room for the cafeteria. They enter the cafeteria to find Mike, Chris, Joe and Wilhelm already having breakfast. Helen and Andrew order their food and join them at their table.
"Good morning boys!" Helen says in a lovely voice.
"We're not boys, nurse, we're men." Wilhelm responds. "And Andrew, you're a man too. You're over fifty you know."
"So being a man has to do with age?" Andrew replies.
"Not entirely." Wilhelm says. "Age is just a factor, but it's about experience and the way you act. And none of us here act like frail teenage boys."
Helen smiles and shakes her head. Mike leans in closer to Andrew, and whispers in his ear.
"It's his way of acknowledging you, so try to see it as a compliment."
[I guess I can take it that way.]
"Anyway, enough about that. I found out about a new card game from the 2020s, I read the rules and it seemed like fun. Should we try it today?" Mike says.
Helen holds her hand in front of her, to sign them to wait. She finishes her drink and puts the glass back on the table.
"Andrew and I are going to do a, how do I say this, mental exercise after breakfast." She says. She looks at Andrew, and Andrew nods. "We're going to read a card that was left in a box, a letter from 2019."
"Oh, I see." Mike responds. "Tough of you to read it already, preparing for things like that took me a few weeks, maybe months."
"We'll try the new game tomorrow, then. The four of us can just stick to the known ones." Chris adds. All of them agree with it. They finish their breakfast and exit the cafeteria.
"Hey, Andrew." Wilhelm says to him, before walking away. "You're a man, but a man needs to cry too, whenever necessary." The others look in their direction. "So, cry your heart out, don't try to bottle everything up, it'll only make life harder. And, we're always here for you, remember that."
Wilhelm does a step closer to Andrew, and puts his right arm on Andrew's left shoulder.
"You're strong, I know that."
Helen, Mike, Chris and Joe all smile at the passionate side of Wilhelm. He pulls away his arm and does a step back.
"Good luck, Andrew."
"Thank you, Wilhelm."
They part ways, walking in opposite directions through the hallway.
Andrew and Helen enter Andrew's room. They sit down next to each other on his bed, and look at the bedside table. All the letters are closed. The blue one, from his family, is on top, then the red one, and finally the purple one.
[I'm expecting the purple one to be May's, and I want to read it last.]
"Let's go with the red one today." Andrew says.
"Do you know who it's from?" Helen asks.
"Most likely from my friends, Keil, Lin and Sarah." He responds. "The purple letter is from my girlfriend, May. She … likes purple."
Andrew has trouble speaking normally. His voice is shaky and his throat feels swollen. Helen takes the red letter from the stack, and opens it. She reads through it quickly before giving it to Andrew, closed.
"Before you open it, do you remember again how you, well, died?"
[I still don't know. I don't really want to think about it. I don't think I want to know. But, if she's asking this question, that means I'll probably get to know.]
Andrew nods, mendaciously, and opens the card. He starts reading it, from top, to bottom.
-----
Dear Andrew,
Hey you, you're finally awake. (Do you remember it?)
All jokes aside, I hope you're doing okay! How is the future so far? Well, you wouldn't be able to answer me, since you're probably hundreds of years ahead. Anyway, the three of us decided to write a small personal letter each, and this is my part. (You probably know who I am already.) I don't really have that much to say, I just hope you'll find your way in your new life in the future. I was devastated by your cardiac arrest, but realising you have a second chance at life made me get over it relatively quickly. Not that I didn't care, that's not it, but I don't know what else I could say. I really thought hard on this one. I'm going to pass the letter to Lin now, and I almost forgot, but we're together now! The moment you left us (sorry that might sound a bit harsh) made me realise our life is really short, and that we should take chances whenever we can, if you get what I mean. I'm running out of space, so good luck in whichever year you woke up in!
-----
Andrew closes the card and puts it to his side. Tears are filling up his eyes.
"Come here." Helen says, and she pulls him in closer. Andrew holds his head on her chest, and starts to cry. His tears are wetting Helen's clothes. Helen is smiling, but also shedding tears of compassion at the same time.
"Andrew." She says. Andrew continues to cry, but tries to make less noise to listen.
"We are only 37 years ahead. They should be about 55 years old right now, and are most likely alive."
Andrew lifts his head from her chest, and looks at her with reddened eyes, and tears on his cheeks. Helen holds his hands.
"We will find them. I'll look for them. If you remember them, write down their full names for me. Not now, any time works."
Andrew nods, and wipes away the tears.
"Sorry, about your coat."
"It's fine, don't fret it." She replies.
"So … I died of a heart attack." Andrew says. "I didn't … expect anything else."
Andrew has a hard time talking, because of the snot in his nose, and the swelling in his throat. Helen smiles, but doesn't respond.
[I wonder if they got married.]
Andrew picks the card up, and opens it again, but he doesn't start reading immediately.
[I hope they got married, they seem like the perfect couple. When I meet them, I might be a total stranger. Well, my face didn't change much, so they could still remember me.]
Andrew starts reading again. The messages are separated by a dotted line.
-----
From Lin.
You're most likely reading this, far, far ahead into the future, and that fascinates me to an extent. But, this isn't about me, this is for you.
First of all, I want to thank you. I heard the stories from Keil, about how you had encouraged him to ask me out for months, maybe even years. He told me he didn't remember. But I truly appreciate it, bringing us together, as I also had my eye on him for a while. I don't know how far we will go, but it feels like it's going in the right direction.
Next, I want to wish you the best of luck. Continuing your life hundreds, maybe thousands of years into the future will be hard, really hard. But, as I've seen from you while we've been together, you don't give up easily, so I know you can pull through.
You're probably having a tough time reading our letters, but I hope you'll be able to look at the bright side of your life, of your future, even if we aren't around. I will pass the pen to Sarah now.
Good luck, Andrew, and I hope we can meet again in our dreams.
-----
The beautiful words written on the paper pierce Andrew emotionally, but he doesn't break out in tears. He is smiling. Helen takes the letter from him.
"Are you okay?" Helen asks.
Andrew nods.
[All of them think, or are expecting, that they won't see me again.]
Tears roll down Andrew's cheeks, but he is not fazed. He stares at the floor in front of him, with the smile still on his face.
"It feels like … " Andrew starts. "They're writing to a dead person."
Helen remains silent while Andrew is organizing his thoughts. Only the noise of the clock ticking, and Andrew periodically sniffing can be heard. Andrew falls onto Helen's lap.
[May. You never liked it when I did this. You said so. But, if we were home alone, you wouldn't mind at all. Are all women like that? Does Helen mind? She doesn't seem to mind, she seems happy. Her smile, feels so familiar.]
"They all expected me … to wake up in … hundreds of years." Andrew speaks in parts.
"I don't think anyone expected the technology to come so soon." Helen responds. "When I was thirteen, the first person woke up. From that moment onward, I paved a way so that I would be able to work here, and listen to lots of stories from the past. Like yours."
Andrew looks at the wall, while resting his head on Helen's thighs.
"What's your age?" He asks.
"I'm 23." Helen responds. "When I was 13, before I started high school, I heard about this. After that I practically gave all my free time away to study biology and medicine."
Helen caresses Andrew's hair, while looking at him with her teal coloured eyes. Her blond hair, wrapped up in a ponytail, lays on her right shoulder.
"If you want, we can read Sarah her letter later."
"No." Andrew replies resolutely. "We are going to read … this entire letter … today."
"I did promise that, but I don't want to overload you. You know what I told you about other patients, remember?"
[I know that, but, I just want to know more. I want to know what they wanted to say. I want to meet them.]
[I want too much.]
Andrew gets up from Helen's lap and she gives him back the letter.
"Promise me." She says. "That you stop reading if it's too much for you."
Andrew nods, and he opens the letter again.
-----
Hey,
Thank you for having conversations with me. I really appreciate it. Because of them, I feel safer talking to May and Lin, and even some other classmates. Keil is still hard to talk to, but he's nice too. I expect you to be revived in the near future, so if you wake up at least before 2100, come visit me. I'll always be waiting.
I never did this, and I regret never telling you earlier, but thank you for that hug during our vacation. You should remember it. It felt really nice. I've been giving hugs to May and Lin too. When we see each other again, I'll tell you more stories, also stories I've yet to make. Will you tell me yours too?
- Sarah
Lots of love, hugs, and luck from Keil, Lin and Sarah.
-----
Andrew closes the letter and gives it to Helen. Tears roll down his cheeks and he isn't able to speak. He wraps his arms around Helen's waist.
"Let it out, Andrew. There's no need to bottle it up." Helen says softly.
Andrew starts to cry, louder than before. His screams of sorrow echo throughout the room. Helen caresses his hair and back, while holding his head on her shoulder.
"It's okay." She says repeatedly. "It's okay."
In the arms of Helen, Andrew cries his heart out. His thoughts are too irrational and incomprehensible. He can't think about anything, yet a ridiculous amount of thoughts are crossing his mind. The sun shines brightly into the room, highlighting their backs with warm, yellow rays of sunlight. Andrew's lost the strength to scream, and the sound has regressed to quiet sobbing. Helen is also shedding tears of compassion.
For them, the day is already over.
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