I managed to talk him out of it. It was my first great success, and it brought me to Wesley’s attention.
That little boy would be well into his teens now, almost Ethan’s age, not quite half mine. I think of him tonight as I stare at the ceiling, feeling dead myself. Dead but not gone, watching life surge forward around me, powerless to intervene.
Monday, November 1
13
When I come downstairs this morning, sloping into the kitchen, I find a note slipped beneath the basement door. eggs.
I study it, confused. Does David want breakfast? Then I turn it over, see the word Cleaned above the fold. Thank you, David.
Eggs do sound good, come to think of it, so I empty three into a skillet and serve myself sunny-side up. A few minutes later I’m at my desk, sucking the last of the yolk and punching in at the Agora.
Morning is rush hour here—agoraphobes often register acute anxiety after waking up. Sure enough, we’re gridlocked today. I spend two hours offering solace and support; I refer users to assorted medications (imipramine is my drug of choice these days, although Xanax never goes out of style); I mediate a dispute over the (indisputable) benefits of aversion therapy; I watch, at the request of Dimples2016, a video clip in which a cat plays the drums.
I’m about to sign off, zip over to the chess forum, avenge Saturday’s defeats, when a message box blooms on my screen.
DiscoMickey: Thanks again for your help the other day doc.
The panic attack. I’d manned the keyboard for nearly an hour as DiscoMickey, in his words, “freaked out.”
thedoctorisin: Anytime. You better?
DiscoMickey: Much.
DiscoMickey: Writing b/c I’m talking to a lady who’s new and she’s asking if there are any professionals on here. Sent her your FAQs.
A referral. I check the clock.
thedoctorisin: I might not have much time today, but send her my way.
DiscoMickey: Cool.
DiscoMickey has left the chat.
A moment later, up pops a second chat box. GrannyLizzie. I click on the name, skim the user profile. Age: seventy. Residence: Montana. Joined: two days ago.
I flick another glance at the clock. Chess can wait for a seventy-year-old in Montana.
A strip of text at the bottom of the screen reports that GrannyLizzie is typing. I wait a moment, then another; either she’s whipping up a long message or it’s a case of senioritis. Both my parents used to stab at the keyboard with their index fingers, like flamingos picking their way through the shallows; it took them half a minute just to bash out a hello.
GrannyLizzie: Well hello there!
Friendly. Before I can respond:
GrannyLizzie: Disco Mickey gave your name to me. Desperate for some advice!
GrannyLizzie: Also for some chocolate, but that’s another matter . . .
I manage to get a word in edgewise.
thedoctorisin: Hello to you! You’re new to this forum?
GrannyLizzie: Yes I am!
thedoctorisin: I hope that DiscoMickey made you feel welcome.
GrannyLizzie: Yes he did!
thedoctorisin: How can I help you?
GrannyLizzie: Well I don’t think you can help with the chocolate I’m afraid!
Is she effervescent or nervous? I wait it out.
GrannyLizzie: The thing is . . .
GrannyLizzie: And I hate to say it . . .
Drum roll . . .
GrannyLizzie: I haven’t been able to leave my home for the past month.
GrannyLizzie: So THAT is the problem!
thedoctorisin: I’m sorry to hear that. May I call you Lizzie?
GrannyLizzie: You bet.
GrannyLizzie: I live in Montana. Grandmother first, art teacher second!
We’ll get to all that, but for now:
thedoctorisin: Lizzie, did anything special happen a month ago?
A pause.
GrannyLizzie: My husband died.
thedoctorisin: I see. What was your husband’s name?
GrannyLizzie: Richard.
thedoctorisin: I’m so sorry for your loss, Lizzie. Richard was my father’s name.
GrannyLizzie: Has your f ather died?
thedoctorisin: He and my mother both died 4 years ago. She had cancer and then he had a stroke 5 months later. But I’ve always believed that some of the best people are called Richard.
GrannyLizzie: So was Nixon!!!
Good; we’re developing a rapport.
thedoctorisin: How long were you married?
GrannyLizzie: Forty seven years.
GrannyLizzie: We met on the job. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT BY THE WAY!
GrannyLizzie: He taught chemistry. I taught art. Opposites attract!
thedoctorisin: That’s amazing! And you have children?
GrannyLizzie: I have two sons and three grandsons.
GrannyLizzie: My sons are pretty cute, but my grandsons are beautiful!
thedoctorisin: That’s a lot of boys.
GrannyLizzie: You’re telling me!
GrannyLizzie: The things I’ve seen!
GrannyLizzie: The things I’ve smelled!
I note the tone, brisk and insistently upbeat; I clock the language, informal but confident, and the precise punctuation, the infrequent errors. She’s intelligent, outgoing. Thorough, too—she spells out numbers, and writes by the way instead of