Hope Part 5: 2037-2040
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— 2037 —
Hi Joanna,
Are you still upset I took the assignment? I understand what you said about compromises, but I cannot compromise on this. It could be the story of the decade, and I cannot just wear one of those DR helmets to experience it. I have to be here in person.
I am sure Rhiannon and you are getting on fine at home. I know you find her difficult sometimes, but that is what we signed up for. Just make sure she does not spend too much time online, and actually gets outside for once. That new woodland near the river is open now the saplings have matured; why don't you take her there?
I don't know if you're interested in hearing my news, but I'm going to tell you anyway. St Petersburg is all astir. All us journalists are gathered here; we wanted to go to Moscow, but that's still closed to foreigners because of this 'Cold Civil War'. Honestly, we hear hardly any news from Russia for a decade, and suddenly there's a nuclear coup! Rather terrifying, but both sides are thankfully very reluctant to use missiles on their own soil.
The jury is still out on who will be in power come Wednesday. My money is on the new 'green' regime, if you can call them that when they're waving nukes around. They certainly have the popular support, what with their call to invest in renewable energy, join the global reforestation programme, and all that. The old guard won't like it, but I think the Russian people are feeling a bit left behind as the rest of the world reaps the benefits of a green transition. But whether such a change could happen without bloodshed remains to be seen.
If Russia were to get on board, that is virtually all the world superpowers in the same boat. China is still dragging its heels on some instances, but they can see where the money is at. There is even vague talk of allowing Russia back into the G7 if these green promises come through – provided the nuclear situation calms down.
Maria is here too, and is waxing on about her darling daughter Bella starting school. Sounds like she has the perfect child. Alright for some. Tell Rhiannon I am thinking about her, and she's welcome to call if she wants to.
Love,
Bertram
Hi Bertram,
Yes, obviously I'm still upset – it seems all those discussions we had before we decided to adopt didn't amount to much. I thought we'd reached a good compromise on what our responsibilities would be, but I feel you're not upholding your end of the bargain. It makes a terrible impression on Rhiannon when it looks like you prioritise your work over her. What she needs most is to know that we care about her, and I'm uncertain whether you're fulfilling that function.
I've been very busy of course, looking after a grumpy teen by myself. We went to the woods, and they're nice, it seems. Not mature enough yet to have a whole lot of wildlife, especially with so many Londoners traipsing about, but there were lots of insects and a few birds. Rhiannon grumbled the whole time, especially when I asked her to put her phone away. She doesn’t seem to connect with that sort of thing at all. Slow progress.
Russia sounds very interesting. I'm sure it'll be an experience to remember. Make sure to think of your family while you are experiencing it.
Love,
Joanna
— 2038 —
Hi Joanna,
I hope you are not still angry about me for disappearing, although I would understand if you were. Things were just getting too much – what with Rhiannon, and Noah, and your parents, and the drama at work. I just needed a break.
I expect Fred told you that I took the Florida assignment with Maria. That is where I am now. But please do not imagine me sitting back and relaxing in the sun; it's nothing like that here anymore.
I went to Miami Beach the other day, if one can still call it a beach. What used to be stretches of white sand is now one huge, dense mangrove forest. I heard they were planted to protect the city, cutting their losses as the sea level rose. They would have lost the beach either way, so at least this way the city is still intact.
There are still plenty of tourists here, but of a very different kind. The mangroves are up there with the Everglades for rich animal life: if you want to see alligators, waterfowl or even manatees, this is your place. So the bikini-clad sun-worshippers are out, and binoculars and cargo shorts are in. Yesterday I went out on a hovercraft to get some photographs: you feel so immersed in nature, yet you only have to look up to see towering hotel blocks not so far away.
Of course, I have been doing a lot of thinking while I am here. I love Rhiannon like my own daughter, of course I do, but she is exhausting. She has ruined so many days, broken so many of our possessions, screamed vile things at us so many times. How many more times before we give it up as a lost cause? It sounds callous, but maybe a different adoptive family could just take better care of her. Better for everybody. I just cannot bear to be around her right now, and since you are always with her, it means I cannot bear to be around you either.
Then there is Noah, slipping back into the party scene again, no matter what I do. When I met up with him in Oxford, I could see the puncture wounds in his arms. His pupils were huge, and he could barely string a sentence together. And his brother has just vanished, off traveling the world with that Finnish girl, having a great time it seems from the photos he puts online. But he will not respond to any of my messages.
And then, on top of all that, why are your parents over so often?? They are so senile now they are little help around the house, but that does not stop them being overbearing and judgmental. I know they disapprove of how we are trying to raise Rhiannon. But they do not exactly offer any alternatives.
I just really do not see a way out of this one. I had this idea before that, if the world was getting better, then I would be getting happier too. That logic used to hold, if you remember back to the early 2020s – the worse the world got, the unhappier I became. But it seems life is far more complicated than that, and sometimes you just have to cut your losses. I think it is best we spent some time apart. I hope you do not hate me for it.
Love,
Bertram
Hi Bertram,
I think now might be the time to open up those letters we wrote on the Trans-Siberian Railway, not so many years ago. I have attached photos. Have a read?
Love,
Joanna x
— 2039 —
Hi Joanna,
As you predicted, Rhiannon did great on her exams! Top grades in sciences and maths, and commendable efforts in English, geography, and most of the others. History was a write-off, but we anticipated that. It should not affect her A-Level subject choices, so I am happy to let it slide. I unwisely said we could get dinner anywhere she chooses, so we are going for greasy pizza at that awful pseudo-Italian joint. I suppose I can grin and bear it!
How is Shanghai? I caved and tried one of Fred's new DR helmets yesterday, and linked up with a drone above the city. I must say, the view was pretty fantastic, and not anything like the brightly-lit metropolis I remember from fourteen years ago. What with all the foliage, the dim tower blocks and the lack of smog, it almost seemed like one of those 'ruined cities' that have been subsumed by forest, except there are millions of people down there, all living their lives just as much as ever. It was consoling to think that you were down there somewhere, among the trees and tower blocks.
Harry and Noah both dropped by the other day, for the anniversary of Enya's passing. It seemed a good excuse to get the family together. It has been ages since I've seen them both in the same place. It was nice to see them thaw out a little as they chatted. Noah has been clean for over six months now, and Harry has been 'clean' of that psychotic girlfriend for almost as long. They have been on very different paths since they left home, but all three of us seem to have converged a little recently. We put in the time and effort; I think that's the secret that has sometimes evaded me in the past.
One other thing, just to bring it up: Maria and Jonah are selling their riverside apartment! They have another baby on the way and Jonah's work has really taken off recently, so they are upgrading. I just thought it might be worth investigating, as it would be just the right size for us three, and the location is fantastic. It is also involved in one of those co-operative schemes, which means it would come with a share of the area's solar panels, community garden and waste repurposing system too. Just an idle thought – something to mull over.
Anyway, I hope your 'urban wildlife' assignment is not as mundane as it sounds. Certainly it's not what China is known for, so I hope you strike gold!
Love,
Bertram xxx
Hi Bertram,
Wow, send huge congratulations from me to Rhiannon! I tried to call her on the day, but I imagine she was out celebrating with her friends. Anyway, fantastic results – she should be proud. I'll make sure to bring her back something nice from China.
Shanghai is great! I knew my Mandarin lessons would come in handy. I've teamed up with a local photographer called Xilong – I hope you don't mind being 'replaced' for a little while! He's a keen birder so he's actually got a big backlog of photos he's happy for us to use for the article.
Inevitably, the focus is the giant pandas they've installed in the bamboo forest on the old super-highway. I knew bamboo grew fast, but I never knew anything like this! Some of these plants were as thick as my thigh and towered above our heads. It felt like it had been this way since the dawn of time, which I suppose is testament to the regenerative power of nature.
The pandas haven't 'returned of their own accord', like is sometimes said online; they were very deliberately put here by the Chinese authorities. It's a publicity stunt, obviously, but at least a wholesome one. Xilong took me onto one of the old flyovers, now kitted out as an observation deck, where we got a great view of a pair of bears. They are undeniably endearing, even after Xilong told me with great enthusiasm how they pee all over themselves to mark their territory. They were just hunkered down there, chewing on bamboo stems, looking wonderfully cute and inept.
Anyway, I'd best get off. It's almost dusk here, and Xilong tells me I must witness thousands of bats emerging any minute from the foliage on a nearby skyscraper. They're not my favourite creatures, but as long as they don't get tangled in my hair, I can cope!
Love,
Joanna xxx
— 2040 —
Hi Joanna,
I can hear you weeping from where I sit, and I have nothing I can say. You do not want me with you right now, and that is alright. This letter is for you to read on your own terms, when you want to, and I hope it will provide some consolation.
Your mother was a fantastic woman, and despite some shaky patches I grew to love her very much over the last year or two. She doted on Rhiannon far more effortlessly than I could at first, and really opened her heart to her. She will be sorely missed by so many, which is the truest sign of a life well lived.
That is all I have to say about her, for she was your mother, not mine, and it should be you who carries her memory forward exactly how you want to. Instead, I thought I might talk a little about my experiences of love, loss, and most of all, hope.
We have lived through a fascinating pocket of human history. There was so much strife, so much grief, so much despair. And then, almost imperceptibly at first, things changed. Our lifestyles became purer, less guilt-ridden. People grew closer together, and material things began to lose their pull. Technology changed from separating us from the real world to connecting us with it. And nature came creeping back into the corners until it was an integral, and welcome, part of everybody's life.
I suppose the point I'm trying to make is, hope always comes back. Today, you are grief-stricken, and trust me, I remember too vividly what that is like. There seems nothing to hold onto; the future is a bleak chasm that stretches exhaustingly before you. But – and trust me when I say this – before you know it, you will have passed through that valley, and suddenly you will be bathed in sunlight once more.
I am here for you, as are so many others. Don't reject us, like I did to my friends and family when I lost Enya. It will only draw out the suffering. Express your grief. Talk about it, write about it, sing about it if you like. I will be here for you, now and always.
Love,
Bertram
Hi Bertram,
When I found your letter, I took my bicycle and set off along the river, past the reedbeds and the groves of willows and silver birches, until I reached an empty bench beneath Cleopatra's Needle. I sat and read your words as the light faded and the streetlamps blinked into life, one by one.
I love you, and your words are beautiful. I think you might have picked up on a thing or two from living with a writer, if I do say so myself. Even though I knew Mum didn't have long left, it has left such a huge hole in my life now she is gone. We always regret the things we never say, and some of the things we did, don't we?
I have a little story that I haven't told you yet. Not long before she died, when Dad and I were sitting with her in the hospital, she was telling me about the moon landing. She was a teenager at the time. She told me about her sitting down with her family, her friends and any neighbours who didn't have a TV of their own. It was a full room.
She said there was a quiet awe when Neil Armstrong took that step – no cheering, no overt celebrating, but she said the hope in the room was palpable. Mankind could do anything. Then, of course, there were subsequent decades of anger, grief, warfare, partnerships formed and broken, while the world itself quietly withered away backstage.
And then, things changed once again, and more than anything I am glad Mum was around to see it. It's only been a couple of decades since things seemed hopeless. For me, right now, it's hard to see hope – but I know it's there, waiting for me.
Do you remember that quote? “Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”
How lucky we all are to have seen her arrive.
Love,
Joanna.