Chas: And what do you divine about me?
Doobie: That you are still a young man, perhaps in your thirties. That there has been some tragedy in your life, something I don’t really think you have come to terms with. And there was something in an exchange you had with Twist that led me to believe that maybe you have just returned to work after a long absence. Perhaps an illness. That you are wealthier than most forensic photographers, but that you still have financial problems.
Chas was stunned to silence. That she had managed to infer so much about him from so little, it was almost frightening.
Doobie: Am I right?
Chas: You’re pretty close. A good guesser, perhaps.
Chas Chesnokov smiles.
Chas: You know, I spent months in therapy, and I don’t think my therapist could have summed me up that well. Actually, she’s the reason I’m here. Group therapy sessions in SL.
Doobie: Was it a death? The tragedy. Did someone die?
Chas: My wife.
Doobie: Oh. When?
Chas: A little over six months ago.
Doobie: How?
Chas: A very short illness. Cancer. By the time they diagnosed it, the damned thing was too far gone for treatment. She barely lasted ten days. Long enough that I felt her suffering through every long, painful moment of it. But still not long enough to say goodbye. Not really. Not properly. I was still in shock when she went, as if she had been taken from me in an instant.
Doobie: So you’re still saying goodbye.
Chas: I suppose I am.
Doobie: Because if ever you finish your farewells, then she really will be gone.
Chas was silent for several long moments. He had never thought of it that way. In all the hours of therapy he had undergone, it had never occurred to him that his problem could be that simple. Angela had only ever encouraged him to talk. And he must have repeated himself countless times, going over and over the same old ground.
Chas: I’m not sure I would know how to do that now, Doobie. After so long.
Doobie: You go to her grave, Chas, and you close your eyes, and you imagine her there in front of you. As clearly as if you could touch her. And in your mind you do. You reach out and feel her warm skin on your fingertips. You run them lightly down her cheek, and take her chin, turning it up a little toward you. And you lean in to kiss her. So softly. Conveying in that touch of your lips all the love you ever felt for her. Then you take her in your arms and hold her, and let the tears run down your cheeks. Don’t be ashamed of them. And when you are ready, put your lips next to her ear and whisper, “goodbye darling.” And let her go, Chas. Just let her go.
Somewhere on the far side of the screen, in a world beyond pixels and images, he felt real tears trickle down his cheeks. And it was some minutes before he found words again to work his fingers.
Chas: Sounds like you might be talking from experience, Doobie.
After a long silence new text appeared.
Doobie: They send our troops to some far-flung corners of this RL world, Chas, and sometimes it’s so damned hard to figure out why. Young men, some of them barely old enough to vote, many of them not old enough to drink. Certainly without any understanding of the issues that led the politicians to send them in the first place. So many of them die without ever knowing why. A long way from home and the people who loved them.
Chas: What happened?
Doobie: He wasn’t even a combat soldier, Chas. Supplies and inventory. But it meant he wasn’t usually in the firing line. So I didn’t worry too much.
Chas: Were you married?
Doobie: Engaged. We were going to be married when he finished his tour.
Doobie Littlething shakes her head.
Doobie: The irony is, it wasn’t the enemy that killed him. It was an accident. Damn chopper ferrying officers from base camp to the airport. Came down with engine failure. Eighteen young men. All gone. In that instant you talked about. And I never did get over it. He had left me with child, from his last home leave. And I thought, at least I will always have a part of him.
Chas waited. He knew there was nothing he could say, no question he could ask. Whatever she had to tell him would come in her own time.
Doobie: I miscarried in the sixth month.
Chas: Oh, Doobs.
He wished he could reach out a hand to touch her. And for the first time in this Second Life, he felt confined by it. Limited, frustrated.
Doobie: I had no chance to say goodbye to either, until I knelt in the grass by his grave and held them both in my arms, and told them that one day I would be with them. And that although we were saying our goodbyes now, we would all be together again someday in the not too distant future. And then I let them go.
After another long silence Chas began typing.
Chas: People keep saying to me, Doobs, “You’ll meet someone else”. But I can’t imagine it. How about you?
Doobie: No. Me neither. I never have, and I never will.
Chas: Never is a very long time.
Doobie Littlething smiles.
Doobie: It is.
Chas: So I guess you are an American, then?
Doobie: Oh, now you’re starting to divine things about me.
Chas: You said, they send our troops.
Doobie: Well done, Mr. Detective.
Chas: And I guess since you seem to be online pretty much around the same time as me, you are West Coast rather than East? Pacific time zone?
Doobie Littlething smiles.
Doobie: It never ceases to amaze me how curious people are in Second Life about the real lives of others, but hardly ever wanting to reveal anything about themselves.
Chas: It’s only human nature, Doobs. I suppose people are just people, whether in RL or SL. We’re just the same.
Doobie: Not necessarily.
Chas: No?
Doobie: The real world has become so complex, Chas, that it’s harder and harder for us to be ourselves, to express ourselves freely. SL removes the conventions. And here’s the irony. In a world where the reality is virtual, and completely unreal, it is far easier for us to be our real selves. If you spend any time in here, you will come to see that.
They sat for a long time in silence then. Chas returned his attention to the chessboard and found himself running and re-running a sequence of moves around his head, each time arriving at the same conclusion. He moved his bishop.
Chas: Checkmate.
Doobie looked at the board, and studied it for several long minutes. Then she looked up, and Chas saw her animated smile peeling lips back across her teeth.
Doobie: You distracted me.
Chas: You distracted yourself.
Doobie: You cheated.
Chas: No. I beat you fair and square.