Caught in the Net
by Michael Smith

 

 

Mon 08:17

 

Hello, Jane.  It’s me.

 

Paul?!  It can’t be.

 

Well, it is.

Surprised, huh?

 

That’s impossible.

Who are you?

 

It’s me – Paul.

 

But you’re dead!

 

I know, I was there at the funeral. 

I was the one in the wooden box, remember?

 

I was there too. 

I was the one weeping by your graveside.

I saw them shovel the earth over your coffin.

So, I’ll ask again – who are you?

 

Just because I died, doesn’t mean I’m dead.

 

What?

 

Read it again.

 

I don’t understand what you mean, whoever you are.

 

I’ve told you. 

This is Paul.

 

And I’ve told you, it’s impossible.

I’ll ask again – who are you?

 

I can prove to you that I’m Paul.

 

How?

 

You have a mole in the small of your back, on the left side.

 

That doesn’t prove anything.

Anyone seeing me sunbathe could’ve known that.

 

Alright, let’s try another fact about you, Jane.

You’ve just bought a red pullover

from that little shop in town you like so much.

 

How do you know that?

I only bought it yesterday.

This is too spooky.

Don’t call me again, whoever you are.

 

 

TUE 16:34

 

I’ve been thinking, Paul.

You could have got that info about the pullover from my bank account.

But

I don’t know.

I miss you.

I miss Paul.

I want it to be you.

Are you there?

 

 

TUE 22:08

 

I want to be with you too, Jane.

I understand your doubts. It is a bit weird.

I’m not sure I understand it fully myself.

 

Can you explain?

 

I’ll try.

Almost everyone these days is active on the internet.

But what happens to all that data when someone dies?

All the photographs, all the texts?

Ever thought about that?

 

No.

 

No, me neither, until it happens.

It seems that although we’re physically dead,

we carry on living on in the internet.

 

What?

How is that even possible?

 

I don’t fully understand the science behind it.

There are millions of dead people.

And, therefore, masses of data.

It’s like all memories have been collected together.

 

But that doesn’t explain

how we can be having this conversation.

 

True.

Like I said,

I don’t fully understand the science that makes this work.

But I do know I’m talking to you now.

 

 

TUE 22:14

 

Are you still there?

 

 

WED 09:17

 

Sorry, I freaked out.

I don’t know what to make of all this.

I’ve been mourning for you.

And now this.

 

I understand, really.

Instead of me telling you things about you,

Why don’t you ask me questions?

Only things you’d expect me to know.

 

OK, let me think.

What was the name of the bar we went to

on our last night in Florida last summer?

 

How could I forget?

You insisted on wearing that flower in your hair.

 

Name the bar?

 

Roosters. 

Am I right?

 

Yes.

 

Please don’t say it was a lucky guess.

Ask another.

 

What happened between my mum and dad

on their last wedding anniversary?

 

Quite a lot, I guess.

But you’re looking for something memorable.

 

Quit stalling

 

Okay, okay.

I can only type so fast!

I’m not as fast as you.

At the anniversary party, your dad got drunk,

and after much singing at the top of his voice,

the neighbours called for the police.

Your mum freaked out.

Right?

 

Yes.

 

Embarrassing, wasn’t it?

 

Oh, yes.

 

Am I convincing you yet?

 

You’re getting there.

 

What more can I do to convince you?

 

Let me think.

I’ll get back to you.

This is still too weird.

 

 

WED 21:38

 

Paul?

 

Yes.

 

That was quick.

 

I have nothing to do, remember?

It’s not like I need to go shopping.

 

No, I suppose not.

 

Have you considered?

 

Yes.

Is it possible for us to meet?

I miss you/Paul so much, and if all this is true

then I’d never forgive myself

if I didn’t follow through with it.

 

Yes, of course.

I think I have found a way for us to meet.

 

Really? How?

 

It will require you to go into town, to the iStore.

Is that possible?

 

Of course. When?

 

Whenever you like.

But, when they’re open, of course.

 

What then?

 

Ask for Craig.

 

Your ex-roommate?

 

Yes.

 

Are you in contact like this with him too?

 

Yes.

 

Oh

for how long?

 

Actually, he initiated it. He and I were roommates, remember?

He was experimenting with some software he’d developed

and, by accident, ended up finding me again.

 

He always was good with IT.

 

He still is.

 

I always had a feeling that he had a thing for me.

I think he was jealous of our relationship.

 

What makes you think that?

 

Just the way he used to look at us sometimes.

Well, looked at me, certainly.

Did he have a thing for me?

 

Paul?

 

He still does.

 

What? How do you know?

 

Don’t ask.

 

This is even more spooky.

 

Not really. 

He’s a good guy. 

Good job. 

You could do much worse.

 

Stop, Paul, please.

 

Still want to meet?

 

Yes, definitely.

 

How about tomorrow morning?

At ten?

Just go to the iStore and ask for Craig.

He’ll show you what to do.

 

Okay.

See you tomorrow, then.

 

Goodnight, Jane.

 

 

THU 08:51

 

I was just reviewing our conversation from yesterday.

There’s something I don’t understand.

Something that doesn’t make sense.

 

Oh?

 

Yesterday you wrote that you’re a slow typer.

But if you’re just a … I don’t know what …,

existing only on the internet,

why is typing speed important?

 

Just come to the iStore at ten.

I’ll explain then.

 

I’m having doubts.

 

Please, Jane.

See you soon.

 

 

THU 14:03

 

Jane, I’m sorry.

That was a mean trick, I know.

I fully understand your reaction.

I’ve told the manager I’ll pay for the damages.

But, how else was I to meet you?

 

Get lost.

How could you pretend like that?

 

I was desperate.

Sorry.

 

Don’t ever try to contact me again.

I’m blocking you, Craig.

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