The History of Soul 2065

by Barbara Krasnoff

  “That’s me!” Edward beamed, delighted to have found a cheering section.

  Rachel’s mom leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure he has a couple of copies of the book with him. If you want, I’ll ask if he’ll sign one for you.”

  Annie grinned and hugged Rachel’s mom. “Oh, thank you so much!”

  “Hey, I’m the famous author with the book and the autograph,” Edward objected. “Don’t I get hugged?”

  “She’s 19,” said Aunt Susan, staring at him with mock sternness. “So you get bupkis.”

  Uncle Mark came back from the kitchen, having taken the turkey out of the oven. “That’s what we’re having with the turkey,” he said. “Baked bupkis. With an olive sauce.”

  “Should we start?” asked Abram. “It’s getting late.”

  “You’re right.” Aunt Susan tapped her fork against her wineglass to get everyone’s attention. “This meeting of Soul 2065 is hereby called to order.”

  Edward leaned over to Rachel. “Okay, what’s going on?” he whispered.

  “It started ten years ago,” Rachel whispered back. “We decided we were all part of a single soul, and so every year, everybody tells everyone else about the most significant thing that happened to them the past year, because it affects us all.”

  “Cool,” said Edward. He looked intrigued.

  Aunt Susan continued. “One of our members couldn’t be here in body, but is here in spirit—and email,” and she waved a tablet. “Okay, Mark, you start.”

  “I had a bit of a scare when I woke with chest pains a couple of months ago,” said Uncle Mark. “I went to the emergency room, but it turned out to be a bad case of acid reflux. Which isn’t good, but is a lot better than a heart attack.”

  “Damn right,” said Rachel’s mother. “You gave us all a hell of a scare, you know that?”

  “No comments allowed,” Mark reminded his sister.

  “I reconnected with my sister after five years,” said Abram. “She called me out of the blue right after Yom Kippur. We talked for about a half hour, and I got her email address, so maybe we’ll stay in touch.”

  “I tried out for a part in a Broadway show,” Rachel said. “They wanted a bunch of teenagers who could sing and move, and I tried out for that. I was so nervous that I went into the bathroom and threw up and had to make my face up all over again, and then I got eliminated in the first round. I was really upset at first, but then I thought about how much fun it was just to be there. Which was important.”

  “You were wonderful,” said Annie. “She showed me what she was going to sing before she went. She was great.”

  “Isn’t she a bit young to be running around to auditions?” asked Abram, looking as if he disapproved of the whole idea.

  “It’s fine,” said Aunt Susan. “She’s over 18 and very responsible. Annie, it’s your turn now.”

  Annie brightened. “I’ve been looking into my family’s history,” she said enthusiastically. “My mom has become a real activist lately.”

  “Yeah, I understand Marilyn is now a second Emma Goldman,” Mark grinned.

  “You were the one who said no comments,” his wife reminded him. “Don’t interrupt.”

  “Anyway,” Annie continued, unfazed, “my mom’s been telling me about her grandparents, who were very radical, politically. I’m going to interview my grandmother so I can find out more about them, and the rest of my ancestors.”

  Rachel’s mom looked down at the table. “There’s somebody I, well, sort of like,” she said. “I haven’t had the chance to ask him out yet. I need to do that.” She bit her lip as though she was going to say something more, but had decided not to.

  “Yolanda writes,” Aunt Susan said, reading from the tablet, “I am slowly learning about how difficult and wonderful it is to be a minister, although I have to deal with red tape and bureaucratic idiocy, and some of these people test my patience. But it’s all worthwhile.”

  Aunt Susan put down the paper and sighed. “Okay,” she said. “My turn. As most of you know, I lost my job, which isn’t something we need right now. But I’m getting some freelance gigs, and this gives me a chance to work on some of my knitting techniques.”

  “You knit?” asked Annie. “Hey, I just started learning.”

  “You know,” Edward said, “this one soul thing doesn’t sound bad. Can I join as well?”

  “Don’t know,” Aunt Susan said, grinning. “Rachel, what do you think?”

  Rachel propped her chin on her fist and looked at Edward thoughtfully. “You have to do something to qualify.”

  “Like what?” Edward said, amused.

  “Rachel…” said her mother, a warning note in her voice.

  Rachel ignored her mother and continued to study Edward carefully. “I know,” she finally decided. “You have to write me and Annie into your next book.”

  “Done!” Edward said.

  “Cool!” said Annie.

  * * *

  Twenty years later.

  The new apartment was in a rather inconvenient part of Brooklyn, but they were all there—all except, of course, Abram.

  Even though Mark insisted on cooking the meal, Susan had asked several of the guests to bring side dishes to make things a bit easier. “I don’t want him to overexert himself,” she told Rachel’s mom.

  “Of course,” Eileen said, and then smiled as Rachel, who had appointed herself and Annie the unofficial serving staffers, brought in some of the silverware. “And just think,” she added. “You have a famous actress shlepping for you.”

  “So I understand,” said Yolanda, who was sitting at the table. “Congratulations.”

  Rachel wrinkled her nose at Susan. “It’s so Off-Broadway that even a GPS could hardly find it,” she said.

  “What Rachel isn’t telling you,” Annie said, “is that live theater is what everyone is into these days. They don’t want fake 3D—they want real 3D.”

  “And they want 20-year-olds,” said Rachel. “I’m already too old for a lot of producers.”

  “Modesty isn’t a virtue in an actress. I saw your notices,” Edward said. “Good ones, from major sites.”

  “And she got interviewed,” said Eileen proudly. “It’s on at least 16 different streams.”

  Rachel smiled tolerantly at her mother and leaned over to Susan. “It really doesn’t mean anything. You have to be on at least 30 to be noticed.”

  “Give it time,” said Annie. “I think you’re starting to create a splash.”

  “Could it go viral?” asked Yolanda. “Is that still a used term?”

  “Occasionally,” said Edward. “And even if it isn’t, the general idea is the same. It’s what happened to my latest book. Especially after I did this,” and he waved his hand at the top of his head—he had shaved most of his hair except a small white round patch at top.

  “It looks like a monk’s tonsure, reversed,” Yolanda said.

  “Makes good video, though,” Edward said. “Especially the 3D version. It looks like a weird sort of halo.”

  Susan tapped her glass. “This meeting of Soul 2065 is hereby called to order,” she said. Everyone quieted.

  “I…I was thinking how to handle…” She paused, and cleared her throat. “We greet Abram and ask him to remember us,” she said. Mark looked down at the table. Nobody said anything for a minute.

  Susan looked at Yolanda. “Things are going well with my new assignment,” Yolanda said, “although I still think that Minneapolis is too cold for humans. As you know, there has been a new movement among some of the more radical members of my faith to disallow female ministers; sometimes it feels as if we’re running backwards at a fast clip. But with any luck, this too shall pass.”

  “I’m thinking of moving to Los Angeles,” said Edward. “My new series is doing well, but I can’t afford to be a one-shot wonder. Out west, I can diversify more. And—well, I think it’s better for me and for others.” He glanced at Eileen, who stared back coldly. There was a moment of s
ilence.

  “With Rachel no longer around, and my job being only part time, I find myself sitting in my apartment watching too many movies,” Eileen finally said in a careful tone. “I don’t think that’s healthy. I’m going to have to find something else to do. Somebody else to be with.” She looked away.

  “I’m having a great time doing live theater,” said Rachel, quickly, “but it isn’t enough, even with the feeds. The pressures are just too great—if we charge as much as we need to in order to keep it going, nobody comes, and if we charge less, we won’t be able to keep it open. And only the big studios can afford to do a big PR push. So I was also thinking of going out to the West Coast—maybe even next month.”

  “And I’m coming with her,” said Annie. “Oops—sorry, did I interrupt?”

  Rachel smiled, and touched Annie’s cheek. “It’s okay. I was done.”

  “Well, actually,” Annie said cheerfully, “so was I. Except that if Edward is going west, I think we should wait a few months, so he can get settled and then help Rachel out a bit.” She grinned at him.

  Edward reached over and tugged a lock of her hair gently. “Honey, I’m too old to move quickly,” he said. “You go when you want to, and as soon as I get there, I’ll make sure Rachel gets in to see the right people. Promise.”

  Annie smiled. “Okay,” she said.

  “I’m tired of doctors,” said Mark. “I go, and I go, and they give me tests, and feed me pills, and nothing changes. I’m just…I’ve had it with doctors.”

  “I want Mark to take better care of himself,” said Susan. “That’s all.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” said Mark. “Can’t you give it a rest?”

  He stood and limped back to the kitchen.

  “He’ll be fine in two minutes,” Susan said. “He just gets angry at not being healthy. He doesn’t think it’s fair, because he stopped smoking and has been taking good care of himself, and now this.”

  Rachel reached over and took her hand. “He’ll be fine, Aunt Susan,” she said.

  Susan smiled, and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Of course, he will,” she said, and then looked around the table. “Well, as soon as Mark gets back, we’ll start.”

  * * *

  Thirty years later.

  There was no seder, because there was no longer a New York City.

  * * *

  Forty years later.

  Susan kept saying that she would find someplace else to live. After all, she wasn’t all that badly off. She rather liked California, and Congress had finally come through with at least a small amount of compensation for former residents of NYC. She was sure she had enough to invest in a condo somewhere.

  Rachel, who knew exactly how much income her aunt really had, and who also knew how much medication Susan needed to sleep at night, told her that she wasn’t going anywhere. Rachel and Annie had more than enough room in their house, and anyway, Edward depended on Susan to help him with his latest series.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Susan said, while she watched Rachel put the spinach kugel in a warmer. “You girls don’t need to have an old lady tottering around in your way, and Edward doesn’t need my help. He’s just trying to make me feel useful. Which is very sweet of him, but there is no way in hell…”

  “Oh, for the sweet love of Shiva,” Annie cried, throwing down the towel she was using as a potholder. Annie had put on quite a bit of weight over the last few years; she insisted on blaming genetics, since, she said, she and Rachel ate the same foods and Rachel was still absurdly svelte. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound? Edward has a writer’s block so big that you could run a truck into him and he wouldn’t feel it. He is driving us completely insane. You are the only one who can save us.”

  “Besides,” Rachel added, “he said that once you and he come up with a new series, he could sell it as a dramatic stream, and I could star in it. So please, don’t do the oh-poor-me thing. Please, Aunt Susan.”

  Susan sighed. “Well…”

  “Edward is asking for admittance,” the house said. It had an Italian accent this week, which Annie said was in honor of her father’s family.

  “House, yes,” said Annie loudly, and then turned back to Susan. “We’re agreed?”

  “So,” Edward said, having just come through the security door, “have you told her that resistance is futile?”

  Susan didn’t laugh, but one side of her mouth quirked. “Edward, stop quoting old TV series that Rachel won’t recognize,” she said. “It’s a symptom of senility.”

  “Hey,” Rachel protested. “I’m an actress. I’ve studied the classics.”

  Edward kissed Susan loudly on the cheek and gave both Annie and Rachel a hug. “Hey, baby doll,” he said to Rachel. “Were you able to get Yolanda to come?”

  “She wanted to,” Rachel said, “but there was another transportation lock-down yesterday, and her tickets were cancelled. So she’ll just have to vid in.”

  The house was sparsely furnished—simplicity was the fashion these days—and much of the furniture was foldaway, so it took only a few minutes to put away the couch and replace it with a dining room table and chairs. Annie fiddled with the display while the others set the table.

  “I wasn’t able to find the Haggadah that we used to use,” said Rachel, putting a sheet of e-paper next to each place. “It was probably never digitized. But I did find a ‘roll your own’ Haggadah, and put together something as close as I could get it.”

  “I’m sure you did a great job,” Edward said, settling himself into one of the chairs.

  “Okay, we’re all ready,” said Annie. “Going to external visuals.” The display, which she had set up at one end of the table, brightened to show Yolanda sitting in an old-fashioned armchair in what looked like a living room. She grinned.

  “Hi, there,” she said. “Sorry about missing the seder, but I’ve only got a third-tier priority in the airline’s lists, and got bumped at the last minute.”

  “Of course,” Susan said. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Should we begin?” asked Rachel. “Susan, you start.”

  Susan shook her head. “It’s your house,” she said. “You or Annie head the seder.”

  Rachel was going to protest but Edward put a hand on her arm. “Go ahead,” he said.

  Rachel took a breath. “This meeting of Soul 2065 is hereby called to order,” she said, a little huskily. “We greet Abram, my mother Eileen and Uncle Mark, and ask them to remember us.” She glanced over at Susan, but the woman was dry-eyed. “Yolanda?”

  On the display, Yolanda nodded. “I’m doing well, although I still have moments where I become very sad at the loss of our friends, and of all those who died, even ten years later. As you know, I’ve been part of an organization that represents many of those who were forgotten in the compensation agreements. I’m also concerned at reports that the environmental damage may be worse than we were led to believe.” She stopped, and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m so involved in this stuff that I can get boringly didactic. Forgive me.”

  Edward drew on the tablecloth with the tip of his finger. “On a more selfish level,” he said, “I haven’t been able to produce a lot that was worth anything for the last year or so. It could be just a temporary setback, but I’m a little nervous about it. I’m hoping that certain people will help,” and here he paused, and directed a long look at Susan, “and that next year I’ll be able to report several well-paid sales.”

  Annie sat back in her chair. “I don’t have much to say about myself,” she said. “I’ve been helping Yolanda with fundraising. And I want to add that we’re doing well enough that certain members of this household should shut up about money and just remember how devastated we’d be if they left.” She took a deep breath and stopped.

  Rachel reached out and smoothed Annie’s hair. “What Annie said. Especially the last.”

  Susan looked down for a moment, and then said, “Thank you. I’m not going to talk about how
much I miss Mark, and your mother,” looking at Rachel, “and everyone else who is gone now. I’m trying not to feel guilty that I happened to be visiting here when…when it happened. I’m trying not to feel that I should have been with Mark.”

  She paused. The rest waited. “I remember my mother talking about how hard it was to outlive all the people she grew up with, and now I know what she meant.” Susan looked around. “But still, I’m luckier than many—I have you all now, and perhaps the rest of Soul 2065 to take care of me later. Who knows? Stranger things have happened.”

  * * *

  Fifty years later.

  Although the seder had to be cancelled when Susan had a sudden crisis, after three days she had recovered enough that Annie and Rachel decided to hold what Annie dubbed a Late Seder. They called Yolanda and Edward, and two evenings later they all sat together in the bedroom and nibbled on matzoh.

  “We greet Abram, my mother Eileen and Uncle Mark, and ask them to remember us,” said Rachel a bit too brightly; despite the help of the mechanized bed and the nursing aide who came once a day, she insisted on tending to Susan herself, and hadn’t been sleeping well at night.

  She looked at the others and said, “I called my agent and told him that I was taking a vacation. I just don’t have the personal bandwidth to handle any jobs right now.”

  “I disagree. I think Rachel needs to go back to work,” Annie said. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after things here, and the knitting shop practically looks after itself.”

  “No,” said Rachel. “Just…no.”

  “If somebody is offering you a part,” said Susan, “I don’t see why…” She started to cough.

  “It’s not up for discussion,” Rachel said. She put a hand behind Susan’s back and supported her until the coughing fit subsided, and then settled her again.

  “Actually, it is,” said Edward, and put up a finger when Rachel started to speak. “It’s my turn. I’m tired of the rat race. I’ve decided that I’m going to hang out here instead and visit one of the few people around who still remembers when I was young and good-looking.”

  He smiled gently at Susan, who smiled back. “Thank you,” she mouthed.