Dearest Rachel –
It was a strange and small dream that I saw you in the other night, coming in on the heels of a completely separate feature where I and Mohinder(!) had been lost in the empty wilds of rural Japan, able to send reports electronically to the home office in Yamanashi, but for whatever reason, they seemed unable – or unwilling – to find us and get us to headquarters, where we might be able to work more effectively with them. I pointed out that we had effectively been abandoned, left to our own devices (quite literally), but he would have none of it. Eventually, as I often do when I get a dream that involves my old workplace, I reminded myself that I’d long since retired, and was no longer beholden to either him or the company. It’s a liberating effect, much like Sarah telling the Goblin King, “You have no power over me,” and the scene dissipates as if by magic.
However, it would seem that my body and mind both agreed that I still needed more rest, so rather than having me wake up, they loaded up a completely separate film reel they must have had waiting for just such an eventuality. They even spliced in a segue of you welcoming me home from the unwanted adventure, so that now, you and I could get back to our lives together. Which I hardly need to tell you, I was and would be more than willing to do.
But what I hadn’t expected was that the first thing you were wanting to take care of was making copies of certain videotapes, like you used to do back in the day. To be sure, it was an activity you engaged in regularly since before I even met you, but it struck me as pointless these days. If nothing else, who still has a videotape player these days, let alone knows how to hook it up and use it? Who were you doing this for, assuming we already had the show you were copying (which, I think, was episodes of the old Lucky Star anime, if that detail makes any difference to the story)?
These days, everybody just watches this stuff online; even if we wanted to edit it into a music video, that could be done using my Creative Cloud suite (either Premiere or After Effects). We didn’t need to waste time on videotape duplication anymore, and I said so.
Look, I wasn’t trying to be obstreperous about this, but I was realizing I had you back, and I wasn’t sure for how long. I knew (and still know) you enjoyed doing this, but it seemed like the sort of task that was no longer necessary, especially when we could be doing something else together. We just didn’t have that kind of time to waste on such a pointless endeavor.
At the same time, you were carrying on as if you had all the time in the world. And maybe on the other side, you do (although, does technology exist on that side? Or anime? I’m just curious); but you didn’t seem to be aware that you’d been to that side, or were due to return there at any moment. As far as you were concerned, this was just something to occupy yourself with, since life was in that same forcibly slowed-down pace that we were stuck in at the time of your departure.
Yes; you seemed completely and blissfully unaware that you were on the wrong side of eternity in this scene. Life was just going on as it had been before things all changed, including the things you used to do. I don’t know if the house was as it is now, or if it was in its pre-purge state; in any event, if it was the former, you didn’t seem to notice, so engrossed in your tasks as you were, and if the latter, I didn’t get the chance to look around and confirm my own surroundings, so intent was I on pulling your attention from the show you were keeping track of as it played and recorded on the dual-deck setup you had rigged together.
At some point, however, I must have managed to disentangle you from the task at hand, as it slowly dawned on you that you weren’t supposed to be here. The penny had dropped, and you realized this wasn’t your world anymore. Unfortunately, it also meant that you had run out of time just as I got through to you that you didn’t have enough to devote to this task, and the scene dissolved with you in it. Sometimes I appreciate the magic of dreams; other times, I hate that they leave so quickly. Especially when they’re as real as this little snippet was; it felt so much like home, for that brief minute.
I don’t know if you got that copy made, or if you’re able to see it where you are, but if not, maybe you could compensate by keeping an eye on me (and nudging the channel changer on my remote, or messing with the YouTube algorithm – I might have to give you credit for some of the choices I’ve been making these days), and wishing me luck. I’m certainly going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 