Hope - Levy, Marc (web ebook reader .TXT) 📗

sitting in the armchair opposite the bed.

“What are you doing there, all alone and bored?”

“I’m not bored, and I’m not alone. I’m watching you.”

“So early in the morning?” She yawned. “That’s very rude of you.”

“It’s late.”

“Not for me. It was such an amazing night. Promise me we’ll have more of them.”

“I promise you.”

“No lying, remember?”

“No lying. But I don’t see why we should restrict ourselves to amazing nights. Get your cute ass out of bed, and we can make the most of an amazing day too.”

“I love how poetic you are, Joshy.”

There were more surprises in store for Hope. When they left the cottage, Josh asked the receptionist to give him the small suitcase he had asked her to look after, and she ducked behind the counter to retrieve it for him.

“Are you planning on leaving without me?” asked Hope.

“Since the day I first kissed you, I’ve been worried about the exact opposite.”

Josh suddenly regretted admitting as much, but Hope hadn’t heard, or at least, she had enough empathy to pretend she hadn’t understood the link between his words and the future.

Josh helped her into the car and shut the door behind her.

They drove around the island and came to a stop in front of the Brant Point lighthouse.

“It’s so small, it probably doesn’t give off a lot of light.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” said Josh. “History is full of little people who became bright lights. So, is this one really your favorite?”

“Why? Are you going to buy it for me? How awesome would it be to bring a real lighthouse home as a souvenir?”

“Seriously, is this your favorite of the three?”

“Yes. Now, what’s in the suitcase?”

“No.” Josh shook his head. “Follow me.”

A few yards away from the Brant Point lighthouse lay three hills, covered in hibiscus. Behind the farthest of the three stood a whitewashed stone shack that had bravely withstood the tides and sea winds for decades, and Josh led her toward it.

“I have to say, for once I’m speechless,” Hope gasped.

“Sit here.” Josh pointed to a patch of soft grass.

“What’s in the suitcase?”

“A few of the things we found together, and a letter I wrote for you.”

“You brought me all the way here to read a letter?”

“Not now.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No.” Josh looked at her. “But we’re doing our best, right?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I know you’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but I like to think that’s exactly why you love me.”

“It’s one of the reasons.”

“You’ve loved me so hard, you’ve made a man out of me. When I sign up for Loveaholics Anonymous, that’s what I’ll tell them. That I was saved by a woman I couldn’t even have imagined. That we were happy, and that happiness comes at a price. At the Center, the computer taught me something. Whatever the equation, whatever the problem, making two is about getting rid of additions and subtractions. The less there is of one or the other, the more there is of us. You said it, not me. Bart won’t overshadow what you are. I’ll throw you out to sea. In a way, I was treading water there before you. I took a gamble, and I’m proud of it.”

“I have no clue what you mean, Joshy.”

“It’s simple. We’ll set off to conquer the time needed to find a way of making you better. In labs around the world, faceless researchers are doing their best to put an end to Bart and all the other tumors out there. One day, they’ll make it happen, just like they did with smallpox and polio and the plague. Life and death are all just a question of time.”

Josh told Hope all about his experiment. He told her about his headset and what it had achieved, and he explained the Neurolink project down to the very last detail. He needed just a few more months to copy over the full contents of her memory. And they still had a few more months ahead of them. Hope’s consciousness would be stored on the Center’s server, giving her the chance to be reborn one day. And cryotherapy would take care of her body.

In a not-too-distant future, scientific breakthroughs would enable them to revive her, and to bring together her body and mind. Death was just a matter of time, and there was no reason why the same couldn’t be applied to life.

Hope reflected on the idea of becoming a real-life Sleeping Beauty, left to slumber on a bed of nitrogen. As crazy as it seemed, it struck her as more romantic than lying cold in some graveyard.

“What about you, Joshy? Will you live and grow old in the meantime?”

“No. I’ll wait for you.”

“What does this have to do with the suitcase?”

“We’ll take these things we’ve loved, and we’ll hide them for you to find later.”

Josh took out his knife and kneeled down. He eased out a clump of soil and put the knife to the side. He used his bare hands to dig out a hole deep enough to stow away their Sunday flea market findings. He put the suitcase at the bottom, and Hope helped him cover it up.

As they worked to fill the gaping void that their sadness had carved out, their digging became like a four-handed duet set to the sound of the rushing sea.

Josh spotted a large white stone resting by the wall, and drawing on every last ounce of strength he had, he lifted it over the hole. Taking up his knife, he carved their names into the rock.

“What if I really do come back one day, and I can’t find you?”

“You’ll find me; I’m sure of it,” said Josh. “And if it’s not me, you’ll find me in the eyes of another, in someone else’s heart, in a glimpse of his youth, and you’ll love him with all the strength I’ve given you. Then it’ll be your turn to offer me up a piece of eternity. You can tell him that we were the first