Every Seventh Wave (2 page)

Emmi

P.S. You say you hope I'm “at least twice as well” as you are. Unfortunately I don't know how well you are, Leo. Feeling twice as well as I do at the moment wouldn't amount to much, because I'm feeling at least ten times worse than I deserve to. But don't let it bother you.

P.P.S. Thanks for listening to me. Now you can send me your nice Systems Manager again. At least he and I could have a decent chat about the weather without being disturbed.

One hour later

Re:

I shouldn't have written back, dear Emmi. I've upset you (again), which I didn't mean to do. YOU COULD NEVER BE A BURDEN TO ME. You know that. Otherwise I'd have to be a burden to myself, because you're a part of me. I carry you around with me always, across all continents and emotional landscapes, as a fantasy, as an illusion of perfection, as the highest expression of love. That's how you existed for me for almost ten months in Boston, and that's how I brought you home with me.

But, Emmi, in the meantime my physical existence has moved on; it had to move on. I'm in the middle of getting something started. I met someone in Boston. It's still too early to talk about … well, you know. But we want to make a go of it. She's thinking about taking a job here, she might move over.

That dreadful night, when our “first and last meeting” failed so miserably, I cruelly broke off our virtual relationship. You had come to a decision, even if you didn't want to admit it until the very end, and I helped you execute it. I don't know how things stand with Bernhard and your family at the moment. And I don't want to know, because it's got nothing to do with the two of us. I needed this long period of silence. (Maybe I should never have ended it.) We needed to protect the one-and-onlyness of our experience, to preserve for the rest of our lives our private, inner, intimate non-encounter. We took our relationship to the brink. It didn't get any further. It doesn't have a future, not even three-quarters of a year down the line, particularly not now. Please see things the way I do, Emmi! Let's cherish what we had. And let's leave it at that; otherwise, we'll ruin it.

Yours, Leo

Ten minutes later

Re:

That was a star performance, Leo, a real treat. You seem to be back on peak form already!—“You may well be the illusion of perfection, but I don't want to have anything more to do with you.” I get it, I get it. More tomorrow. I can't let you off so lightly, sorry.

Good night.

Your,

I.
of
P.

The following day

Subject: A fitting conclusion

O.K., I cherish what we had. And I'll leave it at that. I won't ruin anything. I respect your position, my dear ex-email boyfriend Leo “it couldn't go on” Leike. I'll content myself with the fact that you want to retain lovely memories of me, and of “our thing.” To tell you the truth I feel rather imperfect for an “illusion of perfection,” and I'm massively disillusioned, but I'm still your “highest expression of love,” even if I'm clearly from another planet. Because the thing about Cindy—I bet she's called Cindy, I can just picture her whispering “I'm Cindy” into your ear and giggling: “But you can call me Cinderella,” giggle, giggle—the thing with Cindy is that you might not get the highest expression of love, but you do get the physical side. You get it, and more importantly, you can live it. You carry me around with you like some kind of “dream,” as a natural balance between body and spirit, and of course, I completely understand that you have to be careful that I don't become too heavy. You don't want that dream to be shattered.

O.K., Leo, I'll make it easy for “us,” I'll make it easy for you, I'll make myself scarce, I'll stop, withdraw from your life. I won't send you any more emails (soon!). I promise.

Do you mind if your “dream” asks for one last wish? One very, very, very last wish?—I want ONE HOUR, one hour face-to-face. There couldn't be a better way of preserving our shared experience. The only sensible conclusion to our intimate not-meeting would be a meeting. I won't demand anything of you, I won't even expect anything of you. But I have to see you at least once in my life. I have to speak to you, and smell you. I have to watch your lips say the word “Emmi” at least once. I have to have seen your eyelashes once, the way they bow down to me before the curtain falls.

You're right, dear Leo, there is no meaningful future for us. But there could be a fitting conclusion. That's all I'm asking of you!

Your Illusion of Perfection

Three hours later

Re:

Pamela.

One minute later

Re:

???

Thirty seconds later

Re:

Her name is not Cindy, it's Pamela. Yes, I know, it sounds pretty ghastly. It's always dangerous when fathers are allowed to choose their daughters' names. But she doesn't look at all like a Pamela, honest.

Good night, Emmi.

Leo

Forty seconds later

Re:

Dear Leo, I like you so much for that! Please forgive my sniping. I feel so, so, so weak.

Good night,

Emmi

CHAPTER TWO

The following day

Subject: All right then

Let's meet.

Leo.

Three minutes later

Re:

One man, two and a bit words! Excellent idea, Leo. Where?

One hour later

Re:

In a café.

One minute later

Re:

With ten escape routes and five emergency exits.

Five minutes later

Re:

May I suggest Café Huber? We've never been as close anywhere else. (Physically, I mean.)

Forty seconds later

Re:

Are you going to send that nice sister of yours again, for a bit of Emmi probing?

Fifty seconds later

Re:

No, this time I'll come straight up to you, alone and just as I am.

Three minutes later

Re:

I find your unfamiliar resolve rather irritating, Leo. Why, all of a sudden? Why do you want to meet me?

Forty seconds later

Re:

Because you want to.

Thirty seconds later

Re:

And because you want to get it over with.

Two minutes later

Re:

Because I want you to get over the idea that I want to get it over with.

Thirty seconds later

Re:

Stop being evasive, Leo. Admit you want to get it over with.

One minute later

Re:

Both of us want to get it over with. We want to get it out of the way once and for all. It's about giving it a “fitting conclusion.” Your words, my dear Emmi.

Fifty seconds later

Re:

But I don't want you to meet me just so that you can get it over with. I'm not your dentist!

One and a half minutes later

Re:

Although you often hit right on a nerve. EMMI, PLEASE!! We're going to go through with this now. It was your explicit wish, and it was a reasonable wish. You made a promise that it would not destroy our “us.” I trust you and your “us” and my “us” and our joint “us.” We'll meet face-to-face, for an hour, over a coffee. When are you free? Saturday? Sunday? Lunchtime? Afternoon?

Three hours later

Subject: (no subject)

Am I not going to hear any more from you today, Emmi? If not, good night! (If I am, good night!)

One minute later

Re:

Do you feel anything at all when you write to me, Leo?

Because I have the feeling you don't. And this feeling of mine doesn't feel good at all.

Two minutes later

Re:

I have vast trunks and closets full of feelings for you, Emmi. But I've also got the keys to lock them away.

Forty seconds later

Re:

Does your key come from Boston, by any chance, and is she called “Pamela”?

Fifty seconds later

Re:

No, it's a universal key and it goes by the name of “common sense.”

Fifty seconds later

Re:

But your key only turns in one direction, it only closes things. And inside all those closets your feelings are beginning to suffocate.

Forty seconds later

Re:

My common sense makes sure that my feelings always get enough air.

Thirty seconds later

Re:

But they can't get out. They're never free. I'm telling you, Leo, you've got an entire warehouse of closeted feelings. You need to work on that. I'll say good-bye for today, then (my common sense is telling me to), and let the words you have or haven't spilled about our imminent meeting wash over me. Good night!

Twenty seconds later

Re:

Sleep well, Emmi.

The following day

Subject: Straight to the point

Hi Leo,

Let's get it over with, then: I can do Saturday at two. Shall I tell you what I look like, so you don't have to spend too long searching for me? Or would you rather I found you? You could be sitting somewhere in the crowd looking bored, leafing through a newspaper and waiting for me to come and talk to you. I could say something like: “Excuse me, is this seat taken? Erm, you wouldn't be Mr. Leike, by any chance, the man with closeted feelings? Well, I'm Emmi Rothner, glad to meet you, or rather, to have met you at last. So …”—peering at the newspaper—“… what's going on in the world?”

Two hours later

Subject: Sorry

I'm really sorry about my last email, Leo!! It was so, so, so … well, it wasn't particularly friendly, that's for sure. I probably deserve to get the Systems Manager for that one.

Ten minutes later

Re:

Which Systems Manager?

Fifty seconds later

Re:

Oh, don't worry about it. It's a running joke between me and myself. Does that work for you, Saturday at two?

One minute later

Re:

Two o'clock is fine. Have a good Wednesday, Emmi.

Forty seconds later

Re:

Which is more or less the same as saying: “That's the last email you'll be getting from Leo today, Emmi.”

Seven hours later

Subject: (No subject)

At least you're sticking to it!

Three hours later

Subject: Just for the hell of it

Is your light still on, Leo? (You don't have to reply. I was just wondering. And since I was wondering, I thought I might as well ask you.)

Three minutes later

Re:

Before you come up with the wrong answer yourself, Emmi, yes, my light is still on. Good night!

One minute later

Re:

So what are you up to? Good night.

Fifty seconds later

Re:

I'm writing. Good night.

Forty seconds later

Re:

Who are you writing to? Pamela? Good night.

Thirty seconds later

Re:

I'm writing to you. Good night.

Forty seconds later

Re:

To
me
? What are you writing? Good night.

Twenty seconds later

Re:

Good night.

Twenty seconds later

Re:

Oh, I get it. Good night.

The following day

Subject: Two days to go

Dear Leo,

This is the last email I'm going to send you until you send me one (first). That's all I wanted to say, really. In case you don't reply, see you the day after tomorrow at Café Huber. I definitely won't be wandering through the café searching for you with a crazed look in my eye. I'll be sitting at a small table, somewhat apart from the crowd, waiting for the man who spent two years corresponding with me, building and dismantling feelings, until he decamped to Boston and locked away closets full of his own Emmi-feelings, waiting until this man finds me, so that we can bring this adventure of the mind to a fitting conclusion, once and for all. So I'm asking you to try your best to identify me. You have three versions to choose from, as you know. And in case you've forgotten your sister's descriptions, I'm happy to give you a few prompts. (It soooooo happens that I have your email from back then.) Emmi One: petite, short dark hair (could have grown a fair amount in a year and a half, of course), boisterous, “a dignified arrogance masking a slight insecurity,” a bit lofty, fine featured, rapid movements, buzzing, temperamental. Emmi Two: tall, blond, large breasts, feminine, a little slower in her movements. Emmi Three: medium height, brunette, shy, unsociable perhaps, melancholic. So I don't think you'll have any problem finding me. Do write back, and if you don't, have two relaxed/stress-free days. And take care of that key of yours!

Emmi

Ten minutes later

Re:

Dear Emmi, you've made it easier for me to recognize you, easier than you meant to, I expect. You've finally admitted that you're Emmi One, which is what I'd presumed all along. Do you want me to tell you why?

One minute later

Re:

Damn right I do! I love it when the amateur psychologist in you gets all excited, Leo! It means I can resuscitate you when your heart stops beating and even force you to write emails when you're completely bottled up.