Translated by Paul Lazarus
Victor jumped out of bed. He felt dizzy, as he often did lately - all he wanted to do was stay cozy and comfy, but he took a deep breath and gathered up his strength. His college friend, Boris, was being buried at a cemetery in the boonies. It might seem like death is the great equalizer, but there’s no fooling around with location and money.
That’s why very few people actually show up at funerals and anniversaries for low income folks, who go to their eternal rest in out-of-the-way places. This was exactly the case for Victor’s old pal, Boris - he was buried inconveniently. If you didn’t have a car, it would take you an hour by subway, a transfer, and around forty minutes on a bus. For some reason, on these remote routes, passengers speak less loudly on their cell phones and the drivers tend to be nicer than the ones on the typically crowded runs. Or maybe it just seems that way.
Sitting in the back of his Lincoln town car, Victor was reflecting on this when his chauffeur pulled to a stop and grumbled, “Why would you ever come out here?” It was pretty cold outside, but still no snow. The see-your-breath air gave Vic an energy buzz. These days, he barely went out, so this was quite a hike.
Not many came, Bo was only forty-nine. Usually, when you pass away at that age and a lot of your peers are still around it tends to get crowded at your funeral. But not this time. Cold, far, poor.
Victor remembered just about everyone, but not everyone remembered him. The past year had really taken a toll on him and it showed. Those who hadn’t seen him in the last ten years, weren’t able to recognize the man standing next to Bo’s family. Expensive threads; looking sick. Even Michael, their mutual university friend, took a good minute to recognize him.
“Hi, Mike.”
“Good G…Victor, is that you? Shit…you’re so skinny…”
Vic didn’t want to get into it. He shrugged the comment off casually: “good diet.”
“Yeah, that’s real popular these days. I just got back from a detox trip. How’s life?”
“Not bad. Yours? Thought you weren’t gonna make it.”
“Well, we’re classmates. I always wondered who’d be the first to go, but I never thought it’d be Bo.”
Victor couldn’t believe Bo was gone. He remembered the last conversation he had with his friend. It had been four days ago, but it felt like just a few hours had gone by. Bo’s resting now. They did a good job prepping him. Looks like he’s having a nap on the living room couch. Only thing missing is a bottle of Bud, Bo always fell asleep with one, while watching the NBA on TV. The last time they saw each other was at the hospice.
“How are you? And, why are you in here already? I thought you could stay home for a while…”
“I could, but I’ve arranged early admission. To prepare, you know, get used to the idea. To be honest, it’s better for me this way.”
“Spare the family, right?”
“Yeah… when they give me the look… I get… You know, when it comes to the subject of my passing, I’ve become a master at calming down my friends and family. Sometimes I feel like they’re the ones who’ve got cancer, not me. I hope I’m not going to need to calm you down. You’ve always had thick skin.”
“No worries, no pity party from me, especially now, that nurse of yours, she’s hot… “Wait, stay for the lunch! You won’t believe it. It’s healthy and tasty. I can’t remember the last time I lived such a pleasant routine; I sleep the right amount, eat the right amount.”
“Can we trade places?”
“No way. I’d only last three days with your wife. Marybeth’s a…” The doctors here are giving me two months.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. Not a whole lot. But I’ve got a carefully curated list of TV shows to watch, the ones I haven’t watched yet. I plan to catch up on my reading too, just in case the library “up there” is like the one at a Motel Six.”
“You’ll meet the authors, that’s way more exciting.”
They laughed.
“To get serious for just a sec, I need to finish up organizing things. Submit that last fucking annual report. It turns out there’s something wrong with the deed on our second home, there’s also some issues with my company’s shareholders, plus, I need to help Sergio pick a college. My dance card is full up until the bitter end. Although I could die early, before my expiration date. I’d be a ‘preemie’ up there. I hope they have incubators.”
“That’s funny, I’m gonna write that down. Can I, maybe, help you with anything? Just let me know.”
“That’s hilarious. You, help me? You’re like a brother to me, but we both know, if you start managing my shit, I’ll end up with no business and no house. Just keep visiting. But, if you have any free time, give that son-of-a-bitch, Dennis, a punch in the face for me, but don’t break his nose.”
“That won’t be any problem. Dennis is a rare breed of asshole. I’d do it just to please myself - rough him up bigtime - but I care for your well-being up there.”
“My well-being?”
“Imagine I kick the shit out of Dennis and you guys run into each other up there. I don’t know when the hell I’m gonna see you again, but he might get there before me. I can’t let that happen, both for your sake and mine.”
“Don’t be a wuss, I’ll see you up there sooner than later – as soon as I die – I’ll look for you.
“Why? You think I’m also…”
“Course not, I’m sure you’ll make it to a hundred, but you got to understand, time runs different there. Years here – seconds there, like in space. No matter how much longer you live, I’ll see you in the next moment. I won’t even get a chance to start missing you.
“Damn… Who told you this? Or did you read it somewhere?”
“In a book, I’ve been reading up on this stuff.”
“Well, I guess you could be right… But whoa, if you’re right, how will you recognize me? Won’t I be old?”
“They’re not idiots up there. Again, I’ll see you just like the last time I saw you. It’s another trick, not sure how it works, but it does. So even if you have trans surgery and become a woman, you’ll show up to me looking just like the young, handsome man you are now. Just do me one favor and shave the beard.”
“The beard, what’s wrong with the beard?” I like it.
“You’re just too lazy to shave, dumb ass. You’re not fooling anyone. Especially me.”
“Ok, you got me.”
“What’s up with you, anyway?”
“Well, compared to you, I’m not doing too bad.”
“Humor really isn’t your thing. That bad, huh?
“Mostly, fine. But Cassandra… something’s going on with her.”
“What? Heath? Can I help in any way?”
“No, no! Her health is fine, but she’s got no friends, no boyfriend, she goes to school, comes straight back home and just sits or takes long walks. Occasionally, she makes it to someone’s birthday party… But, what is that? She’s eighteen, free as a bird, and not bad looking in my humble opinion.”
“I’d go for beautiful. That’s definitely strange. Doesn’t she get excited about anything?”
“Really don’t know. She brushes me off, when I ask questions. She has a part time job though, waitressing, but still…”
“Has she gone religious?”
“Don’t think so, although she does read about the Far East all the time, but it’s more like philosophy, buddhism, you know. I think, you two would have a lot to talk about. I thought about bringing her today, but she’d probably break down, to be honest, she’s way too sensitive.”
“Not everyone’s heart’s made out of Teflon like yours.”
“True. Her and Marybeth don’t really get along. I try to talk to Cassie, but she looks at me like I’m the kid and I’m the one confused. Can’t believe this; I come see my friend in a hospice and unload my shit…”
“Hey, don’t you remember the time you came to my graduation party and snarfed up all the food my mom made?! Look, given my situation, I’m not going to be able to get done everything I want to, but don’t worry, I’ll see Cassie… hope I won’t make her cry.”
“Thanks, Vic… You’re a good man …”
“Got to atone for my sins, brother. Ok, so I have to do something now, go, I’ll call later, see you… or not!
“Thanks, man. Stay, uh… don’t really know what to say.”
“Tell me not to get too bored. You can’t miss with that.”
“Ok, talk soon! Bye!
Boris left the hospice, drove home, walked into Cassie’s room, she was on her headphones listening to music. He decided to lay down and discuss Uncle Victor later. He slept peacefully, in the morning he had to rush to work, at the office Boris started to feel sick and, in half an hour, died. Sudden heart failure. When Victor found out, he couldn’t believe it. Boris had beaten him to the afterworld. The young, healthy Boris died. And Victor, the one in the hospice was still kicking. God has an interesting sense of irony. Remarque would have liked it.
“He’ll still have the beard when I see him… Bo, Bo…” — Victor was looking at his friend lying in the coffin. After the funeral Victor approached Cassandra.
“Uncle Victor… thank you for coming… he really loved you — Cassandra started crying, but quickly stopped. Then, she laughed and delicately said “I know… I know everything about… that’s why I’m not asking about… you know, how you’re doing. Dad told me you were at the hospice.”
Usually people pause and gaze down at the floor when they get to that word, she said it calmly.
“Yeah, it’s not the happiest place on earth… But at least you have time to get ready, organize everything.”
“Yeah, Dad didn’t get to… Although he would’ve just messed everything up even more…”
Tears again. It’s the little shortcomings of our loved ones that we cherish for decades to come when they’re no longer with us.
“Exactly – Victor smiled and hugged Cassandra. “But, I want to hear about you, how’s your life going?”
“Everything’s fine, Uncle Victor, I’m studying, working.”
“Listen, I’m going to be straight with you, your father is worried about you… was worried. He said: you’re always alone. Your Dad, aka Mister Cool, even got choked up talking about you. He asked me to get together with you. I suppose it’s his last wish, so it has to be respected, you understand,” – Victor said with a grin.
“Wow, I never thought Dad even thought about this… You won’t believe it, but I’ve been wanting to see you for a while.”
“Great, do you have time tomorrow? Only, can you come to me? Maybe, not the best place to be, but the people are good… Promise me, you won’t cry, we’re going to discuss your issues, not mine, deal?”
“Of course, of course! Promise, I won’t cry!”
Cassandra was highly emotional and didn’t quite fit into today’s world. Neither the world nor her knew what to do with each other. She didn’t fuss with clothes, almost no makeup, one earing, Indian bracelets, cracked smart phone. She did well at school, easily got into college where she majored in history to, as she told her parents, at the very least, enjoy the lectures. She got along well with her peers, she was even friends with some of them. She tried to become part of the group, but whenever she listened closely to their conversations, she realized that it would just be too hard. She also had a kind, joyful face.
A kind, joyful face is a great luxury these days. Fear of the unknown, makes people’s facial expressions look like they’re: “ready for a fight.” We all have a few ‘kind’ face masks in our arsenal, sometimes we even wear a smile or grin for an entire day, but as soon as we drop our guard, we become dark and aggressive, or just plain old unhappy. Totally depends on the person’s willpower. Understandably, the future didn’t much scare Victor anymore and his face gradually let go of its usual ”back-the-fuck-up” look and thanks to his upbringing he wouldn’t let himself walk around unhappy. He didn’t want to torpedo anyone’s good spirit with his diagnosis. His face became kind and joyful much like Cassandra’s.
The following day, she showed up at the hospice. They talked for a while. Cassandra about her life, her future. Victor about his – the past and a little about the future. Only Victor had the feeling that it was Cassandra who was explaining how it all worked, not the other way around. He began to question who needed whom more… Victor would remember one of their discussions till the very end. They started talking about the concept of ‘soulmate.’
“Uncle Victor, soul, mate – it’s simple. It’s all about happiness and unhappiness. Your soulmate - is the one who shares the things that make them happy or unhappy with you. Recently there was this boy, it was going somewhere, we were into each other until a stranger stole his brand new, special edition, ‘Adidas’ kicks, which he had saved up for, for a long time. When they were stolen he almost cried and said he wasn’t going out for at least three months until he had enough money to buy the same ones again. He was even going to cut down on food! I had some money saved up, so I bought them for him. I’ve never seen him happier. It immediately hit me: not my soulmate. He felt the same way, he even gave me back the money for the sneakers. Maybe, I just didn’t love him.
“Interesting…I always thought people got happy over pretty much the same things.
“They don’t. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many unhappy people who’ve gotten everything they ever wanted. People break up for the same reason. One of them finds happiness in one thing, the other in a different thing. They’re not meant for each other...”
“Have you ever met one of your soulmates?”
“You’re the first one.”
Cassandra said it easily, without flirting or any romantic implications.
“You said that you’re happy when you breathe in snow. Me too. But, I’m not in love with you. It just happened that we met when you’re…”
This time she paused, without finishing her thought, Victor noticed.
“Say it – dying.”
“Passing on. You’re passing on, but now you’re special.”
When she said: …the first one, Victor felt something like a squeeze deep down inside. He had only encountered a few of his ‘soulmates’ throughout his life, and now, right before the end he was meeting another one. He felt overwhelmingly sad and decided what was needed was a joke no matter how feeble.
“Yeah, I’m ‘passion’ on, running out even, can’t let your Daddy get too bored up there. But no worries, I’ll see him soon!”
Victor looked at Cassandra and his heart rate went way up. From fear. Serious fear.
“Cassie, why are you looking at me like that? You think, your Dad and I won’t reconnect up there? You think there’s no up there?”
For the first time in a long while there was despair in his voice. What if she knows something that I don’t? What if no one is waiting for me up there? Casandra started shaking her head. She started filling him in, the way people tell you about a brilliant film they’ve seen, a bit recklessly.
“Of course, there is, I mean if there’s anything – it’s up there. We leave our home to come down here for a short while, and then we head back from that walk. It might be even simpler than that. You’ll open your eyes up there, and think “Wow, what a dream I just had! I dreamt a life! And you’ll get up and go to your job in heaven, shoveling snow off the clouds down to earth.”
“That’s a quite a job you’ve found for me…”
“You think there’s better? What’s better than shoveling snow off of the clouds?”
Casandra’s voice changed, it became huge, reverberant, drowning out everything around him, like the noise of a strong wind through bending trees. Victor started losing all sense of space, the room around them disappeared, and he only saw her eyes, they were calling out to him. His mouth was dry. He whispered:
“Probably nothing.”
Victor finally got it. He got why Cassie had come for him, like a detective with a warrant. The unbearable, but simple idea that is almost impossible to accept. So that he wouldn’t be overwhelmed, he pushed back to reality:
“Actually, I love shoveling snow. It’s like Zen. One time I was clearing out the path in front of my house and found a bracelet. I asked around, but no one claimed it. So, I kept it. It turned out to be an antique. I still don’t know how it got there.”
Casandra smiled. She was excited that Uncle Victor now understood everything. Her voice sounded normal again.
“You were supposed to find it, it was laying there under the snow waiting. Then she quickly added, Uncle Victor, could you maybe give it to me, for safe-keeping? When you have a granddaughter, I’ll pass it on to her. I won’t lose it. Promise. I’ll wear it as a reminder of you. And when it snows, I’ll think of you shoveling…
“Of course, you can have it! Granddaughter, will I have a granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
Victor felt warm, he settled down and finally believed, that he was returning home soon. Every night he dreamt of shoveling the snow from the clouds. He’d get upset when he’d wake up from the dream and still be in his hospice room. He finished organizing everything and then…
The day after, it snowed. A lot of snow. Cars slid into each other, pedestrians fell, people were angry at the city for not clearing the streets fast enough and only Cassandra looked up at the moonlit sky, looked at the bracelet, smiled and whispered:
“It’s enough, Uncle Victor, it’s enough…”.
That’s why very few people actually show up at funerals and anniversaries for low income folks, who go to their eternal rest in out-of-the-way places. This was exactly the case for Victor’s old pal, Boris - he was buried inconveniently. If you didn’t have a car, it would take you an hour by subway, a transfer, and around forty minutes on a bus. For some reason, on these remote routes, passengers speak less loudly on their cell phones and the drivers tend to be nicer than the ones on the typically crowded runs. Or maybe it just seems that way.
Sitting in the back of his Lincoln town car, Victor was reflecting on this when his chauffeur pulled to a stop and grumbled, “Why would you ever come out here?” It was pretty cold outside, but still no snow. The see-your-breath air gave Vic an energy buzz. These days, he barely went out, so this was quite a hike.
Not many came, Bo was only forty-nine. Usually, when you pass away at that age and a lot of your peers are still around it tends to get crowded at your funeral. But not this time. Cold, far, poor.
Victor remembered just about everyone, but not everyone remembered him. The past year had really taken a toll on him and it showed. Those who hadn’t seen him in the last ten years, weren’t able to recognize the man standing next to Bo’s family. Expensive threads; looking sick. Even Michael, their mutual university friend, took a good minute to recognize him.
“Hi, Mike.”
“Good G…Victor, is that you? Shit…you’re so skinny…”
Vic didn’t want to get into it. He shrugged the comment off casually: “good diet.”
“Yeah, that’s real popular these days. I just got back from a detox trip. How’s life?”
“Not bad. Yours? Thought you weren’t gonna make it.”
“Well, we’re classmates. I always wondered who’d be the first to go, but I never thought it’d be Bo.”
Victor couldn’t believe Bo was gone. He remembered the last conversation he had with his friend. It had been four days ago, but it felt like just a few hours had gone by. Bo’s resting now. They did a good job prepping him. Looks like he’s having a nap on the living room couch. Only thing missing is a bottle of Bud, Bo always fell asleep with one, while watching the NBA on TV. The last time they saw each other was at the hospice.
“How are you? And, why are you in here already? I thought you could stay home for a while…”
“I could, but I’ve arranged early admission. To prepare, you know, get used to the idea. To be honest, it’s better for me this way.”
“Spare the family, right?”
“Yeah… when they give me the look… I get… You know, when it comes to the subject of my passing, I’ve become a master at calming down my friends and family. Sometimes I feel like they’re the ones who’ve got cancer, not me. I hope I’m not going to need to calm you down. You’ve always had thick skin.”
“No worries, no pity party from me, especially now, that nurse of yours, she’s hot… “Wait, stay for the lunch! You won’t believe it. It’s healthy and tasty. I can’t remember the last time I lived such a pleasant routine; I sleep the right amount, eat the right amount.”
“Can we trade places?”
“No way. I’d only last three days with your wife. Marybeth’s a…” The doctors here are giving me two months.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. Not a whole lot. But I’ve got a carefully curated list of TV shows to watch, the ones I haven’t watched yet. I plan to catch up on my reading too, just in case the library “up there” is like the one at a Motel Six.”
“You’ll meet the authors, that’s way more exciting.”
They laughed.
“To get serious for just a sec, I need to finish up organizing things. Submit that last fucking annual report. It turns out there’s something wrong with the deed on our second home, there’s also some issues with my company’s shareholders, plus, I need to help Sergio pick a college. My dance card is full up until the bitter end. Although I could die early, before my expiration date. I’d be a ‘preemie’ up there. I hope they have incubators.”
“That’s funny, I’m gonna write that down. Can I, maybe, help you with anything? Just let me know.”
“That’s hilarious. You, help me? You’re like a brother to me, but we both know, if you start managing my shit, I’ll end up with no business and no house. Just keep visiting. But, if you have any free time, give that son-of-a-bitch, Dennis, a punch in the face for me, but don’t break his nose.”
“That won’t be any problem. Dennis is a rare breed of asshole. I’d do it just to please myself - rough him up bigtime - but I care for your well-being up there.”
“My well-being?”
“Imagine I kick the shit out of Dennis and you guys run into each other up there. I don’t know when the hell I’m gonna see you again, but he might get there before me. I can’t let that happen, both for your sake and mine.”
“Don’t be a wuss, I’ll see you up there sooner than later – as soon as I die – I’ll look for you.
“Why? You think I’m also…”
“Course not, I’m sure you’ll make it to a hundred, but you got to understand, time runs different there. Years here – seconds there, like in space. No matter how much longer you live, I’ll see you in the next moment. I won’t even get a chance to start missing you.
“Damn… Who told you this? Or did you read it somewhere?”
“In a book, I’ve been reading up on this stuff.”
“Well, I guess you could be right… But whoa, if you’re right, how will you recognize me? Won’t I be old?”
“They’re not idiots up there. Again, I’ll see you just like the last time I saw you. It’s another trick, not sure how it works, but it does. So even if you have trans surgery and become a woman, you’ll show up to me looking just like the young, handsome man you are now. Just do me one favor and shave the beard.”
“The beard, what’s wrong with the beard?” I like it.
“You’re just too lazy to shave, dumb ass. You’re not fooling anyone. Especially me.”
“Ok, you got me.”
“What’s up with you, anyway?”
“Well, compared to you, I’m not doing too bad.”
“Humor really isn’t your thing. That bad, huh?
“Mostly, fine. But Cassandra… something’s going on with her.”
“What? Heath? Can I help in any way?”
“No, no! Her health is fine, but she’s got no friends, no boyfriend, she goes to school, comes straight back home and just sits or takes long walks. Occasionally, she makes it to someone’s birthday party… But, what is that? She’s eighteen, free as a bird, and not bad looking in my humble opinion.”
“I’d go for beautiful. That’s definitely strange. Doesn’t she get excited about anything?”
“Really don’t know. She brushes me off, when I ask questions. She has a part time job though, waitressing, but still…”
“Has she gone religious?”
“Don’t think so, although she does read about the Far East all the time, but it’s more like philosophy, buddhism, you know. I think, you two would have a lot to talk about. I thought about bringing her today, but she’d probably break down, to be honest, she’s way too sensitive.”
“Not everyone’s heart’s made out of Teflon like yours.”
“True. Her and Marybeth don’t really get along. I try to talk to Cassie, but she looks at me like I’m the kid and I’m the one confused. Can’t believe this; I come see my friend in a hospice and unload my shit…”
“Hey, don’t you remember the time you came to my graduation party and snarfed up all the food my mom made?! Look, given my situation, I’m not going to be able to get done everything I want to, but don’t worry, I’ll see Cassie… hope I won’t make her cry.”
“Thanks, Vic… You’re a good man …”
“Got to atone for my sins, brother. Ok, so I have to do something now, go, I’ll call later, see you… or not!
“Thanks, man. Stay, uh… don’t really know what to say.”
“Tell me not to get too bored. You can’t miss with that.”
“Ok, talk soon! Bye!
Boris left the hospice, drove home, walked into Cassie’s room, she was on her headphones listening to music. He decided to lay down and discuss Uncle Victor later. He slept peacefully, in the morning he had to rush to work, at the office Boris started to feel sick and, in half an hour, died. Sudden heart failure. When Victor found out, he couldn’t believe it. Boris had beaten him to the afterworld. The young, healthy Boris died. And Victor, the one in the hospice was still kicking. God has an interesting sense of irony. Remarque would have liked it.
“He’ll still have the beard when I see him… Bo, Bo…” — Victor was looking at his friend lying in the coffin. After the funeral Victor approached Cassandra.
“Uncle Victor… thank you for coming… he really loved you — Cassandra started crying, but quickly stopped. Then, she laughed and delicately said “I know… I know everything about… that’s why I’m not asking about… you know, how you’re doing. Dad told me you were at the hospice.”
Usually people pause and gaze down at the floor when they get to that word, she said it calmly.
“Yeah, it’s not the happiest place on earth… But at least you have time to get ready, organize everything.”
“Yeah, Dad didn’t get to… Although he would’ve just messed everything up even more…”
Tears again. It’s the little shortcomings of our loved ones that we cherish for decades to come when they’re no longer with us.
“Exactly – Victor smiled and hugged Cassandra. “But, I want to hear about you, how’s your life going?”
“Everything’s fine, Uncle Victor, I’m studying, working.”
“Listen, I’m going to be straight with you, your father is worried about you… was worried. He said: you’re always alone. Your Dad, aka Mister Cool, even got choked up talking about you. He asked me to get together with you. I suppose it’s his last wish, so it has to be respected, you understand,” – Victor said with a grin.
“Wow, I never thought Dad even thought about this… You won’t believe it, but I’ve been wanting to see you for a while.”
“Great, do you have time tomorrow? Only, can you come to me? Maybe, not the best place to be, but the people are good… Promise me, you won’t cry, we’re going to discuss your issues, not mine, deal?”
“Of course, of course! Promise, I won’t cry!”
Cassandra was highly emotional and didn’t quite fit into today’s world. Neither the world nor her knew what to do with each other. She didn’t fuss with clothes, almost no makeup, one earing, Indian bracelets, cracked smart phone. She did well at school, easily got into college where she majored in history to, as she told her parents, at the very least, enjoy the lectures. She got along well with her peers, she was even friends with some of them. She tried to become part of the group, but whenever she listened closely to their conversations, she realized that it would just be too hard. She also had a kind, joyful face.
A kind, joyful face is a great luxury these days. Fear of the unknown, makes people’s facial expressions look like they’re: “ready for a fight.” We all have a few ‘kind’ face masks in our arsenal, sometimes we even wear a smile or grin for an entire day, but as soon as we drop our guard, we become dark and aggressive, or just plain old unhappy. Totally depends on the person’s willpower. Understandably, the future didn’t much scare Victor anymore and his face gradually let go of its usual ”back-the-fuck-up” look and thanks to his upbringing he wouldn’t let himself walk around unhappy. He didn’t want to torpedo anyone’s good spirit with his diagnosis. His face became kind and joyful much like Cassandra’s.
The following day, she showed up at the hospice. They talked for a while. Cassandra about her life, her future. Victor about his – the past and a little about the future. Only Victor had the feeling that it was Cassandra who was explaining how it all worked, not the other way around. He began to question who needed whom more… Victor would remember one of their discussions till the very end. They started talking about the concept of ‘soulmate.’
“Uncle Victor, soul, mate – it’s simple. It’s all about happiness and unhappiness. Your soulmate - is the one who shares the things that make them happy or unhappy with you. Recently there was this boy, it was going somewhere, we were into each other until a stranger stole his brand new, special edition, ‘Adidas’ kicks, which he had saved up for, for a long time. When they were stolen he almost cried and said he wasn’t going out for at least three months until he had enough money to buy the same ones again. He was even going to cut down on food! I had some money saved up, so I bought them for him. I’ve never seen him happier. It immediately hit me: not my soulmate. He felt the same way, he even gave me back the money for the sneakers. Maybe, I just didn’t love him.
“Interesting…I always thought people got happy over pretty much the same things.
“They don’t. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many unhappy people who’ve gotten everything they ever wanted. People break up for the same reason. One of them finds happiness in one thing, the other in a different thing. They’re not meant for each other...”
“Have you ever met one of your soulmates?”
“You’re the first one.”
Cassandra said it easily, without flirting or any romantic implications.
“You said that you’re happy when you breathe in snow. Me too. But, I’m not in love with you. It just happened that we met when you’re…”
This time she paused, without finishing her thought, Victor noticed.
“Say it – dying.”
“Passing on. You’re passing on, but now you’re special.”
When she said: …the first one, Victor felt something like a squeeze deep down inside. He had only encountered a few of his ‘soulmates’ throughout his life, and now, right before the end he was meeting another one. He felt overwhelmingly sad and decided what was needed was a joke no matter how feeble.
“Yeah, I’m ‘passion’ on, running out even, can’t let your Daddy get too bored up there. But no worries, I’ll see him soon!”
Victor looked at Cassandra and his heart rate went way up. From fear. Serious fear.
“Cassie, why are you looking at me like that? You think, your Dad and I won’t reconnect up there? You think there’s no up there?”
For the first time in a long while there was despair in his voice. What if she knows something that I don’t? What if no one is waiting for me up there? Casandra started shaking her head. She started filling him in, the way people tell you about a brilliant film they’ve seen, a bit recklessly.
“Of course, there is, I mean if there’s anything – it’s up there. We leave our home to come down here for a short while, and then we head back from that walk. It might be even simpler than that. You’ll open your eyes up there, and think “Wow, what a dream I just had! I dreamt a life! And you’ll get up and go to your job in heaven, shoveling snow off the clouds down to earth.”
“That’s a quite a job you’ve found for me…”
“You think there’s better? What’s better than shoveling snow off of the clouds?”
Casandra’s voice changed, it became huge, reverberant, drowning out everything around him, like the noise of a strong wind through bending trees. Victor started losing all sense of space, the room around them disappeared, and he only saw her eyes, they were calling out to him. His mouth was dry. He whispered:
“Probably nothing.”
Victor finally got it. He got why Cassie had come for him, like a detective with a warrant. The unbearable, but simple idea that is almost impossible to accept. So that he wouldn’t be overwhelmed, he pushed back to reality:
“Actually, I love shoveling snow. It’s like Zen. One time I was clearing out the path in front of my house and found a bracelet. I asked around, but no one claimed it. So, I kept it. It turned out to be an antique. I still don’t know how it got there.”
Casandra smiled. She was excited that Uncle Victor now understood everything. Her voice sounded normal again.
“You were supposed to find it, it was laying there under the snow waiting. Then she quickly added, Uncle Victor, could you maybe give it to me, for safe-keeping? When you have a granddaughter, I’ll pass it on to her. I won’t lose it. Promise. I’ll wear it as a reminder of you. And when it snows, I’ll think of you shoveling…
“Of course, you can have it! Granddaughter, will I have a granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
Victor felt warm, he settled down and finally believed, that he was returning home soon. Every night he dreamt of shoveling the snow from the clouds. He’d get upset when he’d wake up from the dream and still be in his hospice room. He finished organizing everything and then…
The day after, it snowed. A lot of snow. Cars slid into each other, pedestrians fell, people were angry at the city for not clearing the streets fast enough and only Cassandra looked up at the moonlit sky, looked at the bracelet, smiled and whispered:
“It’s enough, Uncle Victor, it’s enough…”.