2060

By Chrissy Engstrom (1997)

She walks into the room naked. Four whitewashed plaster walls impose themselves around her, forming a confining cube. In the windowless room a single light bulb hangs naked from the center of the low ceiling. A marble table is bolted to the floor beneath the bare light. He is sitting on a cold metal stool on one side of the table, facing the door through which she has entered. She sits down across from him. He stares at her but not because she is naked; for he too is naked. everywhere people are naked, as is the custom. "Clothing confines and hides those in this 'unrestricting world'," they are constantly reminded. "Clothing is for the closed minded" thus the world had transformed into what was formerly described as a nudist colony. She stared back at him. "Do you remember anything?" he asks. "Yes," she tells him. "Tell me what you remember." "I had a cat. He was pretty; orange with a white stomach. His eyes were bright green, and wide. He hardly ever blinked. He would stare at absolutely nothing most of the time. I could sit and watch him, calling his name, but he would continue staring into space as though he prided himself on being aloof. I could try to get his attention, but he would wink at his imaginary friends, then continue staring. "On one occasion I simply ignored him altogether. I sat looking away from him for the better part of an hour. Finally he broke the silence with his small meow, and jumped into my lap. He curled into a tight ball and lay there until I forced him to move. "My cat, though most of the time trying to ignore me, was one of my better friends...which is not to say that I was antisocial; I wasn't. I simply had a good friend who happened not to be human. "Of course it was unavoidable that he would die within my lifetime being that cats naturally have shorter life spans than we humans. I remember the day. It was raining. I came home early from my school. My mother called and told them that a relative was in the hospital, which wasn't entirely false. My cat, Leo had been in my home for four years, thus making him as close as any relative. My mother didn't take me straight home. She took me to the animal clinic. On the way in, I wondered how we could vaccinate Leo if he wasn't with us. Mother didn't tell me what was wrong. I had no idea that Leo had been hit by a car. I had no idea that he was bleeding internally. When I saw him, I didn't know. "In the room behind the receptionist's desk, he looked as though he was sleeping in his cage. He looked scared. I can remember the pain in his eyes as he watched his invisible friends at play behind me. We were virtually alone in the room. My mother stood in the doorway; I wondered why she didn't follow me to Leo's side. Now I know why. She wanted me to be alone with my friend before he left my world. "Leo slowly moved his dulled eyes over my face, stared at me for a moment, then closed his eyes and lay down on his side. He never stood up again. Leo died, and I left the clinic crying. The clouds in the sky cried with me." Her eyes raise to meet his, her head not moving from its lowered position. She had been staring down at her hands. he stares at her. His eyes never move from her naked face. "None of that matters," he said monotonously. "No," she agrees. "It doesn't. It's in the past." "Your eyes show emotion", he says as though it is a capital crime. She looks away. "I'm sorry," she says staring at the blank white wall. No traces of remorse enter her whispering voice. His eyes finally move from her face as he stands and leaves the room. Hers is the only naked body that remainds in the ungarnished space. Alone, she bends her face toward the marbled white table before her, and is able to cry without the world condemning her for her emotion.

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