The future came in her blind spot at 74 miles per hour. Some tired driver, some careless teenager, or maybe April’s own fault she thought as the first nudge jolted her against the seatbelt. I should probably pull over, was her first subconscious idea as her bones began to crunch with the same ease as the crumpling five-star four door sedan she sat in. One giant fist slamming into her begging to continue its path. Through the windshield shattering out like a maelstrom of lightning, the street went upside down and the sky became ground. A faint promise of impending pain tickled her neck, unsure where to attack next as the blue sky and black street tangoed in such a dance. April felt a few sprinkles. Hopefully the kids brought their good umbrellas to school today. Those stupid lady-bug umbrellas they love so much are too small, they get home soaked every time. Pebbles of glass freed from bending windows slashed at her face.
Blurring sky and pavement faded into flashing lights, strangled faces, and foggy words. She had never hit one before, but heard stories from the office that one decent sized deer could total a car. Was it a deer? Between glimpses of darkness and fits of numbness casting over every inch of her, she could swear she saw her husband. Maybe her kids. She tried reaching out to their little faces, they looked so sad, but they simply faded away. Did they… Blackness rolled over her like billowing clouds.
A soft glow like a sunrise through honey brought April back to consciousness. Dreams of deep diving in the ocean – or were they memories? One of her treasured feelings was the first gasp of salty air after searching the ocean floor. Every summer through the brisk October days where even fishermen gave in and wore their coats they’d be found at the beach. Diving for the love of the depths. April pushed the limits. If anyone lost their ring or dropped their keys, they knew who to call. And sure enough, no matter how deep or choppy the waves, April would come up clutching whatever they lost. But deep diving is what she loved – before her kids came, anyway. With each dive the ocean would envelope her. With each kick thrusting her down, a little more pressure would hug her, a few more meters of water between her and the sky, a little less air in her body. In the dream – was it? – the great pressure held her arms and legs, pressed down on her like a mountain until nothing but her head remained. Nothing to reach out for help, nothing to reach for her children.
The delicate glow whispering her awake was a sweet hum. April rubbed the silk blankets between two of her fingers, almost surprised she could feel the individual strands of the cover. This doesn’t smell like a hospital, though fake plant stood in the corner that was apparently mandatory in every medical center. Where’s Alicia. Where’s Diane?
No one sat at the bedside chairs. Was it a car crash? She reached up to her face remembering glass ripping apart her skin. Not a scratch. But her fingers were so cold she gasped. Silk blankets can’t keep anyone warm, why do they even have them in a hospital? She reached over and pressed the button to summon the nurse. It was odd, she thought, how smooth her movements were after being out for so long. With the scratches on her face healed it had to have been at least a few weeks. She probably had surgery somewhere, too. The car must’ve flipped over quite a few times.
After a few moments a tall nurse in blue scrubs walked in, “April Flemming!” he wore a smile as though hearing a great joke for the first time. “April Flemming,” he regained his composure, “I’m very glad you’re here. You may remember a few things about your accident, and maybe even some lingering memories that feel like dreams between that point and now.” The nurse sat in the chair by the bed, hands pressed together. “Well my name’s Anthony, and I want you to know that I’m here for you to answer any questions.” A tentative smile appeared, April looked in his eyes. There was something else, something he was hiding.
“Where are my kids? Where’s Thomas? Tell them I’m awake.”
“April. Your family made a decision early on, right after your accident. But I think it’s better if you hear it from them in their video.”
“Video? I want to see them! Where are they? How long have I been out?” They were obvious questions and the answers should be staring her in the face. “Why are these blankets silk!” The honey lights dimmed and a video appeared out of the air in front of her hospital bed.
“Good morning, my love.”
Austin? She mouthed.
“Hi mom!” her two kids waved.
“Morning April, you always gave your mother a headache trying to get you out of bed.”
“Dad?” April said. “Why are you at the beach?”
Her husband pulled the two kids in close, they were barely taller than his waist and were having a difficult time looking at the camera. “We miss you so much! They – the doctors and even psychologists — tried to give us a script so we wouldn’t startle you or anything. But we first wanted to know how much we love and miss you.” He nudged Alicia.
Alicia put on her little smile, “Hi mom. I’ve started folding my clothes the way you wanted me to. They don’t get wrinkled like they used to anymore. And, um…” she paused for a moment. “I miss you, mom. I’m going to be good for you.” She clawed at her father’s arm.
“Ok, Diane. Your turn.” Her dad smoothed Diane’s brown hair.”
The little girl kept looking down, refusing to look at the camera no matter how many hints her dad gave her.
April watched as her own dad, weathered by years working with his hands in the sun, bent over and groaned as he picked the girl up. “Come on, Diane. I’ll do it with you.”
He walked closer to the camera with Diane perched in his arms. She’s a little big for that, dad.
“April, Diane has something she wants to say to you.” He whispered something into the child’s ear.
“Mom, I didn’t want them to. But they said you could come back and be happy this way. Why would anyone not want you to be happy?” The small girl clutched her grandpa’s shirt and muttered something.
“Into the camera, Diane. It’s time to be a big girl.”
“I miss you now. I’ll miss you later, too. You need to be happy for me. Find your happy.” She tucked back into his shirt.
“Hear that, April? Your girls want you to be happy. You do that and nothing else matters, ok? I love you.” Her dad and daughter went back to the others on the white beach.
“Ok April. You’re going to have tons and tons of other letters and videos from us, whenever it is you wake up. So this isn’t a goodbye,” Her husband paused, losing sight of the camera. “It’s not a goodbye,” he choked, “but it’s a welcome to your new life.”
She leaned in closer to the floating screen, “When you had the accident with the semi, April, somehow it severed your spinal cord. They couldn’t get your blood flowing to your extremities. And the rate of blood flow was so low, it was going to severely damage your brain.” He took another breath. “One of the doctors talked with us, gave us options. Instead of you being, just a body – for however long you could live – they said they could somehow put your mind into stasis, a sort of iced coma. Only -” Her husband’s eyes lost focus and Alicia wrapped her arms around him.
“Only they don’t have the technology to wake you up.” Her father said. “If you’re seeing this, you’re alive. You made it – only we’re… not there. Do you understand?” “Not here? What do they mean?” She couldn’t take her eyes off the video. “We reached an agreement to show this video only if the cure came so far in the future, that none of us were able to give you the good news.” Her husband said. “But you’re alive!”
Her husband, daughters, and father all had cracks appearing in their faces.
“Be happy, mom. Be happy for us.”
“We love you.”
April watched the video fade from the air and be replaced by the soft honey glow. She sat with the silk blanket covering her legs, realizing for the first time how white the room was. Realizing there were no heart monitors near here, or IV tubes flowing from her arms. “Am I not sick?”
“No, April.” Anthony said. “You’re not sick. In fact, you have recovered amazingly well. We have only been waiting for you to return.” The smile returned. “They talked about — where are they?”
Anthony took a deep breath, “April, you’re no longer in the year 2016. I want you to take a moment. What you’re about to hear won’t be easy.”
“No? My family’s not here, I’m alone, and my spinal cord’s severed? What’s not going to be easy about this?”
“Your girls all grew up and had blissfully happy lives. Alicia went to college, graduated from Yale, and became the Director of the London Zoo.”
“London? She’s never talked about that.”
“She moved to London with her husband.”
April fell back to the reclined bed, “Husband.”
“Yes.” Anthony entwined his fingers. “And Diane, well, he father left notes saying she was never easy. But she did find her happy.”
“Find her happy? What the hell happened?”
“This is the year 2174.”
She flickered her eyes around the room in amazement.
“Yes. It’s taken some time to find a solution to reconnecting your consciousness. So your head was frozen at the request of your family until that time arrived.”
“My head was frozen? Like, like those famous people?”
“Kind of, the method your family chose was a little — more sophisticated than those. And here you are as proof.” That smile reappeared.
“So,” My head was frozen, my spinal cord snapped, why is this silk so smooth? “So.. Tell me, what happened?”
Anthony explained the procedure from over a hundred years ago, and the method they used to finally wake her up.
“If you’re ready, I’ll show you.”
“I guess I’m ready.”
Her skin pricked as Anthony slid a long tool down her arm. The tool was smooth and cold like her fingers when she first touched her face. Then it stopped. Anthony pressed a button on top of the rod and a long rectangular line appeared on her forearm. “Just like that” he said. “Now, lift it up.”
“Just lift it?”
“Be a little gently, but you won’t break it.”
And so she lifted up her skin and the rectangle slowly came up. Silver tubes ran side-by-side in orderly fashion.
“Part of the coolant system.”
A hollow port was left in her arm. There was no gushing blood, no white bone that April expected to see. “It’s like.” she laughed, “it looks like playdough.”
Anthony laughed, “Like playdough, exactly. Your muscles, blood delivery system, nerves, everything you could want exist together in that playdough.”
“Who made this?”
“Interestingly enough, after Alicia moved to London, and, I’m so sorry, after your husband passed on, Diane threw herself into her profession.”
“She became a doctor?” April looked up. “I didn’t think she had it.”
“A molecular-roboticist. She became very respective, and is considered one of the forbearers of our modern medical field.”
“Diane?”
“Yes, her work eventually evolved into you. One other stipulation of your family’s was for you to read this letter, left by Diane in her later years. Would you like it now?”
“Please.” She pressed her coolant system back into her arm. Anthony pulled a drawer from her bed, reached in, and handed her the letter. It was stiff, like a letter over a century old should feel, April realized.
Dear April…
Tears welled up her face during the fourth time through, she could hardly recognize any of the words, but she knew that voice. That voice of the little girl who needed her Grandpa to pick her up.
Through the watery eyes she saw for the fourth time Find your happy
She tried to calm herself, not daring to let the letter go. “Are there more letters. Like this, Anthony?”
“A lifetime’s worth.”
Find your happy.
“Can robots like me swim?”
Anthony smiled.
The New Martian 