“Huh?”
As usual I had forgotten what she said.
“Don’t you remember? We promised that if we ever broke up we’d say what we didn’t like about each other.”
That’s right. We had made a deal. We promised that we’d admit all the things we didn’t like about each other if we ever broke up. We thought that way we’d learn something about love, about being in a relationship. The lover is the eternal teacher. I’m pretty sure I used those exact words (without any irony!). At the time, she said she couldn’t imagine ever breaking up with me. I felt the same way.
“So I told you everything I didn’t like about you. Just so you’d know before you die.”
She was clearly enjoying this—she let out a little laugh.
“Thanks for keeping your promise. Even though it’s not exactly what I want to hear when I’m on the brink of death.”
I laughed too.
When we began our relationship, I just couldn’t imagine it would ever end. I just assumed that because I was happy she must be happy too. But a time came when that was no longer the case. Feelings can’t always be mutual.
Love has to end. That’s all. And even though everyone knows it they still fall in love.
I guess it’s the same with life. We all know it has to end someday, but even so we act as if we’re going to live forever. Like love, life is beautiful because it has to end.
“You’re going to die pretty soon, right?” she said, opening the large, heavy doors of the movie theater.
“You make it sound like it’s no big deal.”
“Well, I was just thinking I could do a screening of your favorite film for you, one last time, if you know what I mean?”
“Wow, thanks.”
“OK, be back here at nine tomorrow night. It’ll be an after-hours showing. Bring a film that you love.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and before you go, I do have one question.”
“Not again!”
“What’s my favorite place?”
Oh man, what was it? I’ve forgotten everything.
“OK, so you don’t remember, right? Then we’ll make that your homework. Come back with the answer tomorrow night.”
And with that, she closed the movie theater’s large doors.
“See you tomorrow,” she mouthed through the glass.
“OK. Tomorrow!” I shouted back.
The street went dark the moment the theater lights were turned off.
I stared at the old brick movie theater for a while, under the red and green lights of the sign. It had been a strange day.
Phones had disappeared from the world, but what had I lost?
I had trusted this device with my memory and my relationships, and when it suddenly disappeared, the anxiety was overwhelming. More than anything, it was really inconvenient. I felt so lonely and helpless waiting under that clock tower—more than I thought I would.
With the invention of mobile phones, the idea of not being able to find the person you’re supposed to be meeting disappeared. People forgot what it meant to be kept waiting. But the feeling of impatience at not being able to get hold of her, the warm feeling of hope, and the shivering cold were all still fresh in my mind.
Then suddenly I remembered—of course. That’s it. Her favorite place. This is her favorite place. Right here. The movie theater!
That’s what she’d always say back then.
She felt as if there’d always be space for her, a seat just for her, at this movie theater. As if her being there made the place complete.
That’s what she always told me.
Now I knew the right answer, I had to tell her right away. My hand dived into my pocket to grab my phone. But of course, damn! It wasn’t there. No more phones…
This was so annoying. I really wanted to let her know right away. I looked back at the theater as I made my way slowly back up the street. Then I remembered what it was like when I was a student and I’d wait for her to call. It felt the same way now. I wanted to let her know what I was thinking right away, but couldn’t. And strangely enough, it was when I couldn’t speak to her that she was on my mind the most.
In the old days before mobile phones and email it would have been a letter. People would imagine their letters reaching their loved one and wonder how they’d react. Then they would eagerly wait for a letter in reply, checking the mailbox each day. Presents are like that too. It’s not the thing itself, but what it might mean to the person you give it to, and it’s their expression and how happy they’ll be to receive it that you have in mind when you pick the gift.
“In order to gain something you have to lose something.”
That’s what Mom always said. I remember, that was the day the sneezing suddenly stopped. She was stroking Lettuce, who was curled up on her lap, and said it with such conviction.
I thought about my girlfriend as I looked up at the theater sign, and I began to feel her words weighing down on me.
“I mean, you’re going to die pretty soon, right?”
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the right side of my head. My chest was tight and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt so cold I began to shiver, my teeth chattering.
So I guess I’m going to die after all.
No, I don’t want to die.
I couldn’t hold myself up any longer and fell to my knees in front of the movie theater. Suddenly I heard my own voice behind me.
“I don’t want to die!!!”
I turned around in surprise.
It was Aloha.
“Got ya, didn’t I? Man, should’ve seen the look on your face!”
There stood Aloha in the subzero temperature wearing his trademark Hawaiian shirt and shorts, sunglasses perched on top of his head. Where there had been palm trees and American cars, he now sported a shirt printed with dolphins and surfboards.
What a b— Try putting on some clothes, will you. I was so pissed off, but I couldn’t afford to get angry.
“So, dude, you got a date. Hey, I’m jealous. I’ve been watching from the sidelines all day. Looked like you were having a great time.”
“Wait, you were watching us the whole time? Where were you?” I asked, breaking out into a cold sweat.
“Up there.” Aloha pointed with his finger up at the sky.
I couldn’t handle this guy anymore.
“But anyway, seriously, you don’t want to die yet, right? You’re getting to be pretty attached to life.”
“I guess…”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about it, you don’t want to die! It’s the same with everyone.”
It was embarrassing, but I had to admit it. Or to be fair, it’s not that I didn’t want to die, it’s just that I couldn’t take the fear of facing death, of approaching the end.
“So anyway, time for your next step. I’ve decided what you’re giving up next.”
“What?”
“This!”
Aloha pointed at the movie theater.
“So how about it? We get rid of movies in exchange for your life.”
“Movies… ?” I said under my breath, gazing up at the movie theater, my vision getting fuzzier.
I think of all the times I went to the movies with my girlfriend, and the endless films we saw together. Various scenes float before my eyes: a crown, a horse, clowns, a spaceship, and a silk hat, a machine gun, the vision of a naked woman…
Anything can happen in the movies: clowns laugh, spaceships dance, and horses talk.
I must be having a nightmare.
“Help!”
I called out, but could barely hear my own voice. I passed out then and there.
WEDNESDAY: IF MOVIES DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD
In my dream the man says, “Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot.” The little tramp wears a silk hat and an oversized suit, twirling his walking stick as he approaches. I’ve always been moved by these words. When I first heard them and even more so now. I want to tell him how important they are to me but I can’t get the words out.