by Pascal Inard
“That's terrible. I'm sorry I doubted your word. I wish I had known you. I'm sure we could have become friends.”
“I don't know. I wasn't a very pleasant person to be with. Sad, boring, dumb, a real loser. No one wanted to be with me.”
I know the feeling, thought Vince. But he didn't want her to know he was a loser too. “Don't say that, I'm sure you weren't. Just because some bully put you down doesn't mean you're worthless.”
“What's the point? That bitch got what she wanted.”
“But don't you think she should be punished for what she did?”
Melanie chuckled. “Don't worry, she got what she deserved.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind, I don't wanna talk about her. I just had a thought. Don't call the hacker just yet. I think I'll stay here for a while and have a bit of fun.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I want to play Malamba.”
“I saw you'd opened that site, what is it?”
“A role game where players are gods; I'm Anansi, the spider God.”
“Spiders creep me out.”
“Are you scared of them?”
“No, I just find them ugly,” Vince said hurriedly.
“I had a pet tarantula named Oscar.”
“Is that his photo you put as the wallpaper?”
“Yeah, he's cute, isn't he?”
“I'm sure he is, once you get to know him.”
“Anyway, enough chatting, I have a game to play.”
The browser window reopened and Melanie resumed her session on Malamba.
Something had stopped Vince from protesting that he wanted to play Derelict Doomsday Devastation instead. He felt something stirring inside him. It wasn't pity for Melanie, he thought. He did feel sorry that she had been bullied to the point of annihilation, but there was something else. Could it be love? No, he didn't have time to indulge in that. It was a kinship he had never experienced before. He was a loner, like she had been; if he had met her while she was alive, he probably wouldn't have given her a second glance. But now that she was in his life, he was getting to know her. She had a sweet face, and yet she loved spiders and playing God.
Vince waited for her to finish, figuring she would get tired of playing and let him use his laptop eventually.
He switched on the TV and zapped from channel to channel, stopping at an episode of Ghost Whisperer.
He had never believed in ghosts until today, and now a real one was haunting his laptop. What was he supposed to do, help her resolve her problems so she could cross over into the spirit world like Melinda Gordon did so well?
#
Vince woke up to the sound of a cartoon. He rubbed his eyes and saw that it was seven thirty.
His first thought was of Melanie; had she been a dream?
The laptop was on the table where he had left it, but the screen was black.
When his attempt to turn it on failed, he realised that it had run out of battery. He plugged it in and waited for it to start, crossing his fingers that Melanie was still there.
“About time!”
“I'm sorry, Melanie. I forgot to plug in the charger.”
“Don't do it again, I got the fright of my life. I was playing Malamba and suddenly everything was dark. I thought I'd died for real.”
The browser opened and went straight to Malamba.com.
“Hey, I was thinking. You obviously don't need to sleep, so how about you do whatever you want while I'm sleeping and let me use my laptop—”
“My laptop.”
“Our laptop then.”
“Are you going to need it all day? Don't you have a job or something?”
“Nah, I live off the dole. I don't want to partake in the corrupt capitalist system.”
“So you're going to use our laptop from the time you get up to the time you go to bed? Hardly sounds fair.”
“I'm not a morning person anyway, so how about you use it from midnight to noon and I'll have the rest.”
“Cool.”
“But before you start playing, tell me more about yourself.”
“I've told you, I'm not interesting. What's the point anyway? I'm dead.”
“You're talking to me. That proves you're not dead.”
Melanie chortled. “Believe me, Vince, it'll never work between the two of us.”
“No, you've got it all wrong. I want to help you solve your problems.”
“I don't have a problem.”
“But if you're here, that means you do, otherwise you would have gone to the other side.”
“The other side of what?”
“You know, the spirit world.”
“You're thicker than I thought. I took my own life, it's a sin. I don't wanna go to hell.”
“How long are you gonna stay in this laptop? I thought you wanted out.”
“I'm getting used to it. It's not so bad, and I kinda like you.”
“But what will happen if the laptop dies?”
“You'll just have to repair it.”
“Don't get me wrong, I love your company, but this is a bit much to take in. I need to think about all this. I'm going to go for a walk.”
Vince walked out of his apartment. He could live with sharing his most precious possession, but what he was struggling with was having a constant presence who was going to look at his every click and key stroke. He could say goodbye to his privacy; he couldn't tell her to go away when his turn came to use the laptop. Where would she go?
He couldn't afford to buy another laptop, unless he got himself a job. That would make his parents happy, but he didn't care, not after they had thrown him out of their house. His father had said that when he was going to retire, he didn't want to see him loafing in the house all day, but Vince hadn't taken his threat seriously. Moving from his parents' sumptuous house into a dingy apartment he had found in an equally dingy suburb had been a shock at first, but he enjoyed the freedom from his parents' incessant nagging. If he wanted to wear the same T-shirt ten days in a row, there was no one telling him how bad he smelled. At least Melanie wouldn't mind.
He stopped at an internet café. Five bucks an hour: with that money, he could buy ten packets of one-minute noodles. What the hell, he thought, I may as well enjoy my last hour of freedom.
He sat at the terminal and opened the Facebook page Melanie's parents had created; he wanted to read it without her interrupting.
Melanie loved animals and her photo album showed her with her pet dog, her cat and her canary, but not her spider. That was odd; she said spiders were her favourite animal.
He looked at her favourite bands, indie rock bands that he had vaguely heard about. Lady Gaga wasn't there, which was strange because the first song she had played was 'Poker Face' and these bands were miles away from Lady Gaga.
There was a photo of Melanie with her parents and a boy who seemed to be a few years older than her, the four of them smiling. A happy family. Happy on the surface, but Melanie had hidden her distress, and they had not been able to help her. Now Melanie wasn't showing any interest in contacting them, but why? Her personality was far more complex than he'd thought. He wanted to know more about her, but he couldn't send her a friend request to see all her Facebook activity. It was unlikely she'd thought about designating someone to manage her Facebook account after her death. It wasn't the sort of thing people who committed suicide did.
He googled her name, but there were few results. Her Facebook page and an article in a local paper about the consequences of cyber bullying. The bully had been questioned by police, who had not been able to press charges and had not released her name for fear of reprisals. A local politician promised that he was going to propose a law enforcing strict punishments.
He had only used half his time slot, but questions were burning in his mind. Who was really the girl who was occupying his laptop? Did she have a hidden side that she shared neither with her parents nor online?
He left
the cyber café and walked briskly to his apartment.
“Melanie, I've been thinking.”
“Not now, can't you see I'm busy?”
“This won't take long. I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to talk to your parents.”
“No, I don't.”
“Why not? They miss you, I'm sure they would love to hear you.”
“I've caused them too much pain already; it'll only make things worse.”
“But you had loving parents. You looked so happy with them and your brother. You don't realise how lucky you are.”
“Instead of wasting my time, why don't go and see your own parents?”
“I'm the last person they would want to see, believe me. I'm their biggest disappointment. All they wanted was for me to be a doctor like them. Mind you, they would have settled for a lawyer or an engineer, but I wasn't interested in any of that capitalist crap. I don't want to be part of the system, I wanna be free. Pity they didn't bother to have another kid; maybe he would have more docile and they would have let me be.”
“My parents aren't sweet as they look, you know. My dad's an alcoholic and he used to beat my mum and me every night.”
“No way!”
“Don't you believe me?”
Jason hesitated slightly, but said, “Of course I do. But what about your mum, maybe I could arrange for you to see her on her own. In fact, why don't I give her a call now? What's her number?”
“I don't remember it.”
“If she's got a Facebook page, I could send her a friend request.”
“Why don't you mind you own business?”
“Because I care about you.”
“But you don't know me. I'm not what you think I am.”
Damn right I don't know you, he thought, but I want to find out what you're hiding from me. He clicked on the Facebook bookmark. The browser went back to the previous page.
“What's wrong with you?” Vince asked.
“Nothing, you're encroaching on my time slot.”
“It would only have taken me two minutes, but if you want to play it that way, I'll go to the Internet café.”
“No, don't!”
“And how are you gonna stop me?”
Vince turned around and started walking out, but the sobbing stopped him.
It grew louder. Vince was paralysed; he didn't know how to react to displays of emotion. There hadn't been any at home. His father dealt with his family as he did his surgery: methodically and rationally. His wife looked up to him; she didn't want to disappoint him by showing her feelings. He had a knack for making people feel inferior to him. Vince had wondered if there was any love between his parents, until he reached the point when he didn't care anymore.
In between sobs, Melanie said, “I'm sorry, Vince.”
“Sorry about what?”
“I lied to you; I'm not Melanie Cleary.”
“Who are you then?” Vince asked, hoping his tone of surprise was convincing.
The voice paused. Vince waited.
“My name doesn't matter. I'm the one who's responsible for Melanie's death. I bullied her online. I spread rumours about her; I said she was a fat slut. I did everything I could to destroy her life.”
“But why? What had she done to you?”
“For a start, she was fat.”
“What have you got against overweight people?”
“Nothing in particular, but it made her an easy target. It's harder to pick on the lookers.”
“So you were just looking for someone to vent your frustrations on?”
“She had everything I didn't: a loving family, a mansion, all the pocket money she wanted. She didn't deserve it. I had to teach her that you can't have it all.”
“So you got what you wanted. She finished herself the demolition job you started. You must've been happy when she died.”
She raised her voice. “No, I wasn't. I never thought she would go all the way. I kept telling myself that she was too weak to survive in this shithole of a world, that she was just a victim of natural selection, but I kept having nightmares where she would rise from the dead and pursue me.”
“So you decided to end your own life.”
“No, I didn't. Melanie's brother broke into my apartment when I was sleeping and smothered me with a pillow.”
“How do you know it was him?”
“I found myself floating above my body and I saw him walk out, with a satisfied look on his face. At first, I thought I was having another nightmare. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out of my mouth. I waited for my body to wake up. I waited and waited; it was boring as hell. Then there was someone knocking and yelling to open the door. Two policemen burst into my room and examined my body. Then there were more policemen, and I was still floating above my body. I remember thinking that maybe I wasn't dreaming and that I was dead. I panicked, I moved around the room, hoping that someone could see me, but everyone ignored me. That's when I heard a voice calling me from the other side, but I didn't want to go. I was sure I was gonna end up in hell. So I found refuge in my laptop. I stayed in the dark for an eternity. Someone switched on the laptop, but I couldn't see who it was. The next time, I worked out how to operate the webcam. It was my bastard of a father. He didn't seem to be overly concerned. I saw him putting the laptop on eBay, but I stayed quiet.”
“And when you found I was the new owner, you lied to me.”
“Of course. I mean, what would you have said if you'd known who I was?”
“Probably that you were a bitch who deserved to go to hell, but now I don't know anymore. Sure, what you did was horrible, but I can see mitigating circumstances. It's like one of those TV shows where the lawyer turns to the jury and talks about the hard life that the accused had, hoping to sway them.”
“Except that this is real life, and God isn't gonna be persuaded by some smart-ass lawyer.”
“How would you know what God thinks?”
“I never was religious, but my mama was; she prayed and prayed, but it didn't stop my father from beating her harder every time. My prayers were different. I said to God, 'If you exist, make sure that bastard goes to hell.' And now I'm the one who's on the highway to hell. I'm no better than him.”
“But it's different. You're a victim.”
“So what, maybe he was a victim too, but does that excuse what he did?”
The conversation was at a dead-end for Vince. It was just too hard to figure out what was right and what was wrong if you had to go back along the chain of causes and effects. He knew one thing though; there was a lot of injustice in this world.
#
Vince gave the girl extra time on the laptop, using the pretext of missing milk to go out. He didn't want her to see that he was researching life after death, and particularly cases of spirits who stayed on Earth rather than going where they belonged.
After he found what he was looking for, he ran back to his apartment and told the girl about what he'd read.
“It's safe to go to the other side. You will be forgiven and go to heaven.”
“That's not what the Bible says.”
“Forget the Bible, I've found real proof.” Vince spoke rapidly without pause, dumping the information he'd read. “People who were clinically dead for a few minutes came back to describe what they experienced. They floated above their lifeless bodies, their life flashed before their eyes and they went through a tunnel with a light at the end. There was some sort of angel who welcomed them and asked them what they had done with their lives. It did not pass judgement and send people to hell if they had sinned. In fact, even atheists had the same experience and reported seeing heaven. Their lives changed completely after they came back to their bodies. There are hundreds of cases documented, and entire websites devoted to Near Death Experiences.”
“It sounds too good to be true. Maybe they were hallucinating.”
“They couldn't be. They saw exactly what the medical team was doing to revive them, like the dosage of adrena
lin the doctor ordered to be injected. Check it out. What have you got to lose?”
Vince looked at the laptop screen while the girl surfed the web, too quickly for him to follow.
After a while, the browser closed.
“Melanie?” Vince called. He still didn't know her real name, but it didn't matter.
He called her again. There was no answer.
Had she crossed over to the spirit world? Had she being forgiven by the angel?
He would never know.
Vince shut down the laptop. He decided he was going to do something with his life so he could answer the angel's question when his turn came.
How about I start by getting a job? And then, who knows? I could date women, fall in love, even have a family. No, maybe that's going too far.
END
Time to move on
Someone was knocking at the door, but tomorrow was Stephanie's fifth wedding anniversary, and she couldn't bear to see anyone.
The knocking continued. She couldn't pretend she wasn't at home, for the lights were on. She should've stayed in the dark; it would have fitted her mood.
She walked to the door and asked in a hoarse voice, “Who is it?”
“Steph, it's me, Charlotte. Please open; I promise I won't stay long.”
Stephanie opened the door and Charlotte walked in. Stephanie motioned her friend to sit on the sofa.
“I know this isn't a good time for you, so I thought I better check out how you are.”
Stephanie struggled to speak, but she managed to say, “Thanks, but I'm OK.”
“Stop lying. I know you're not. It's been two years since the accident and you're still grieving. I know it was hard for you—”
“How would you know? You're still single and happy to have a different man in your bed every night. You wouldn't know what love is even if you fell over it.”
Charlotte furrowed her brows.
“Sorry, I didn't mean that,” Stephanie said. “Look, I appreciate you coming over, but I'm not really the best of company.”
“No wonder, you never go out. Your sorrow isn't gonna bring him back, and I'm sure he would've wanted you to be happy.”
“I know, I know. But I can't just forget him.”
“Who's talking about forgetting? You've got it all wrong.”
“But if I meet another man, I'll be forever comparing him to Roger.”
“Then find one who's the complete opposite. Why don't you try one of those speed-dating events?”