To My Beloved Dead Husband: Science Fiction Is Here Now
Dear David,
Now that you’ve been gone for nearly a year, I’ve developed a new theory that I want to tell you about. It has to do with science fiction — that passion of mine that you so encouraged.
Perhaps the sci-fi genre first came about when someone wanted to tell a dead loved one what’s transpired since their passing — how fantastical it all might seem.
Wouldn’t your father have been startled to learn that millions of people, of all social classes, were felled by a virus? That people would be afraid to touch each other, breathe the same air?
My Grandmother Stilson would certainly marvel at the news that a woman of color was elected Vice President of the U.S.
In my mind’s eye, I see a rugged man with a matted beard near the very spot where I’m writing this, in Southern California. He stays off the grid as much as possible, which has become increasingly difficult in his day and age, off in the future. His eyes scan the stubby green and tawny hills, folding and folding, like supplicants before the foreboding snow-covered mountains.
As the arid sky dissolves into a rose, he talks to his wife’s spirit. “Our granddaughter creates metaverses that people fall into when they wear these weird contact lenses. She meets somebody for lunch in Bangkok and somebody else in London for dinner. But she still thinks my sweet potato stew is the best thing she ever ate.”
Talking to you now, my David is like telling you science fiction stories that have already come true. Yes, I’m working on a new novel, a sequel to my dystopian tale of suspense, THE JUICE. Like that one, it’s inspired by strange people that I’ve written about on my blog before.
And yes, I’m not as scared of dying like I once was. Because there’s a chance, no matter how slim, that you and I will be intertwined as spirits.
But I also have a question for you: What are you telling me now? Is there something you’re saying? Is it the stuff of fantasy — things that living human beings can’t even comprehend? I am listening, my love. I am listening.
