T minus seven months

From: D. Lau
To: J. Zeer
How many times do I have to tell you not to feel guilty about it? We fucked. I slashed. This is not news. And just because one thing happened before another doesn’t mean it caused it.
And doesn’t that poem end with something along the lines of “broken bones will heal but words will always hurt me”? Just saying…
As for porn-like… well, naked woman looking at self in mirror. Naturally you thought it was porn. You’re a guy, aren’t you?
Dan

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
I told you not to write to me, bitch… But I’m kinda glad you did. I get it, man. I can never think of anything you’ll want to hear about…
Oh, found a flat with April, moving in fairly soon, that should be good. You’ll have to come visit when they let you out – I’ve told her a bit about you, she’d quite like to put a face to the name, or to be more accurate a person to the vids.
Alan

From: S. Tellegrin
To: J. Zeer
Re: Mrs R.A. Keller
The assistant entrusted with your letter reported the following responses:
At the first paragraph: a laugh
At the second paragraph: a raised eyebrow
At the poem: “always” “love”
S.W.T.

From: Mrs M. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
I don’t know what to say to you, Jim.
You’re my son and I love you but I don’t have a clue who you are any more. And I really can’t be bothered trying to find out when there’s no point any more. Again, I apologise. But this is who I am, and if I’m shattering childhood illusions, that’s your problem.
Mary K. Zeer

From: S. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
Arrange when you get here, then. All right. We can do that.
I’m sure I told you to make a move on Lucy already – I know why you’re holding back, but do you want to see some other guy get his mucky hands on her? Think about it.
Shit, I’m not allowed to be happy in these, am I? Um… angst angst pain.
Sam

From: J. Zeer
To: D. Lau
You’re probably right. On all counts.
Damn.
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: A. Jeffers
Whatever, man.
Going to christen every room?
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: Mrs M. Zeer
Harsh. True.
Aren’t we a perfect little family?
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: S. Zeer
Arrangements can wait, but isn’t it fun to worry about inconsequential things for months and months in advance?
I’m thinking about making a move… fuckit. I will. I want her.
Oh, and “angst angst pain” – snerk! You’re just too much sometimes. God, I love you.
Um… manly chest-beating.
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: Mrs R.A. Keller
Dear Gran,
Keeping out of trouble?
I’m all good mood right now. Which is unusual enough to be noteworthy, even with Lucy here. She’s coming over tomorrow, and I guess she’ll tell you how it goes – she doesn’t know that there’s an it to go yet, though.
Cryptic enough? Or not at all? Not, I think.
The poem got in the book – they’re printing the best twenty-five – but not a cash prize. Typical. Glory’s all very well, but I’ll take money any day.
Capitalist scum? I think so!
Think I’m channeling nervousness into energy. Not unhappy about that.
Did she tell you she approved of my room? Because if she did, she probably meant it. Not that she’d lie, but she might be polite.
Love, Jim

T minus six months, four weeks

Jim walks into his room to find her perched on his bed, staring into the middle distance, his most recently received letters set down beside her. “Hello, Lucy,” he says affably, trying to remember if there is anything incriminating in that batch. She startles and looks up at him. “Oh. Uh… this…” she stops, frowns, and swallows once. “You didn’t tell me you fucked her,” she says, and he steps back in amazement and confusion. “Dan,” she tells him, as though he needs reminding, “you said she was someone you knew, not a lover!”
“She wasn’t,” he replies, before he remembers that this is not the wisest course of action. “I mean…” he stops again, trying to find a way not to dig himself further. Lucy opens her mouth to make another indignant comment, but halts at his raised hand. He breathes deeply, and says, “she was my tutor, and we talked once in a while, and we slept together that one night. Then she lost it and, well, nothing more happened between us. Which was a disappointment for me, because I liked her, but it probably wouldn’t have happened anyway because she’s a slut.”
Lucy stares at him, incredulous, then asks, “she sleeps with you, so she’s a slut?” He shakes his head grimly, and crosses to pull some old letters out of the drawer he stores them in, handing them to her. She reads the lines he points at, checks the signatures on the letters, then nods wryly. “I guess she is,” she comments. Jim sits next to her, and starts to sort through the pile again.
“So,” she says, “were you going to tell me?” He doesn’t look up, preferring to sort and file the letters into some form of order, but he replies with a simple, “no.” She waits, and taps her foot, and glares at him until he continues, “it’s not really anything to do with you.” Lucy stands, takes a few steps across the room, then turns back to him. “I thought we were friends,” she says, and he nods back at her. “I thought you told me things,” she continues, and again he nods. “So…” she prompts.
“But this isn’t me,” he tells her, “this is her. Ergo, not your business.” She looks at him for another long moment, then shrugs, dropping gracefully to sit cross-legged on the floor. “So, could I see some of the others? Sam’s, maybe?”

T minus six months

From: D. Lau
To: J. Zeer
I’m always right, and the sooner you realise that the better. Except, of course, when I’m sitting with a razor blade. Then you might want to ignore whatever crap I’m spouting. Just so you know.
Um. Nothing to say.
Should I write you some actual porn? I can do that, you know. It would be weird, but… I don’t think I will.
My family keep nagging me about sleeping properly eating properly being normal. And I know they’re just trying to help, but honestly. Grown woman, here. Taken care of myself for years. Maybe not good care, but enough to keep me healthy, so… I know what I’m doing. They’re going to have to accept that.
Anyway, I think that’s enough complaining from me.
Dan

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
Some days, you’re just crude.
So, you gonna visit or what? Be good to have you, man.
Christ, you don’t expect me to have anything to say, do you? My life is boring as hell. Trust me on this.
Alan

From: S. Tellegrin
To: J. Zeer
Re: Mrs R.A. Keller
The assistant entrusted with your letter reported the following responses:
Smiles.
S.W.T.

From: S. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
You have to tell me how it went, man. I so want to know what happens when you make a move. Sorry, but… oh, I have to laugh at you, you’re not always the smoothest guy in town.
Good thoughts on the arrangements – we’ll probably end up panicking horrendously a fortnight before when we realise there are seven hundred things we haven’t actually thought about. But… whatever.
And don’t laugh at me! I was trying to be sympathetic to your frame of mind. Obviously, it didn’t fucking work, but I was trying… yeah, yeah, whatever.
If you can laugh at me, though, I should be hysterical on the floor at your declaration of “manly chest-beating” – honest to God, Jim, you’re a nutcase sometimes.
OK. Going now.
Sam

From: J. Zeer
To: D. Lau
I can live without porn, thanks.
You’re allowed to complain to me. That’s why I’m here.
You get me?
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: S. Zeer
Fuck, Sam, don’t we get picked on enough by other people?
I know, you’re joking, but…
Lucy found out about Dan, was upset, had no opportunity since. Shut up.
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: Mrs R.A. Keller
Hey, Gran.
Nothing to say. Nothing at all.
Oh, perhaps I should update you on Lucy, though I’m sure she’s writing to you more than I am. She is… lovely. And fine. And still single. As am I.
I didn’t get to make a move, because she found out that… remember the girl that self-harmed? I had slept with her the night before. Yeah. Dodgy. But not cause-effect, she claims. Lucy hurt at secret, Lucy sulking. Me being cowardly and avoiding anything that smacks of conflict.
This is why I don’t tell people anything. This is why I hide. This is why she shouldn’t be snooping in my private letters, for crying out loud! Aargh…
Have seen her since, but is still somewhat awkward. Need to sort it out. Will. Soon. Honest.
Right. Since when have I ever done the appropriate thing?
Love you. At least this is uncomplicated.
Jim

T minus five months

From: D. Lau
To: J. Zeer
I get you. I just don’t like the lack of reciprocity in this relationship. I don’t like feeling like the reliant one. I don’t like feeling useless.
I know, neither do you. Nobody does.
That’s what it’s all about, though, you know? Control. Control over myself and my body and my surroundings. Control over everything I am and everything I do. Uh, yeah. Don’t mind me. I’m just losing my mind.
I’m never going to get out of this town, am I? I blew my one chance thanks to my own psychosis. Fantastic work, Dan.
Oh, I love myself some days. Just some days. Not all. Not even most. But some is better than none, surely?
Dan

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
Hey, you didn’t reply to me! Everything all right with everyone else? I’m going to start worrying about Sam or something now, and you know how fucked that is. I still can’t get over the fact that I have a real job. After all those years of study, of being the one doing the paying, of working ridiculous hours trying to get a good grade, I’m out in the real world. It’s just really fucking weird.
Hey, I have a job and a flat and a live-in girlfriend. I’m a proper adult now.
What the hell happened to me?
Alan

From: S. Tellegrin
To: J. Zeer
Re: Mrs R.A. Keller
The assistant entrusted with your letter reported the following responses:
Frowns and a smile at the end.
S.W.T.

From: Mrs M. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
We are indeed truly fucked. I like to think that’s his fault. I take it you disagree?
Mary K. Zeer

From: S. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
Shit! I’m sorry, Jim, I didn’t mean to needle you. And… shit, man, you should just get back on the horse, you know? Just go for it.
I guess I’m not allowed to be overly happy here, then? Thought not…
Nothing in particular to say, so I guess I’ll just go before I can put my foot in my mouth again.
Love, Sam

From: J. Zeer
To: D. Lau
Some is better. You can do anything you want.
I’m fine.
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: A. Jeffers
Sorry. Needed to talk to Gran, that’s all.
Real life… fucking weird.
And you grew up. Proud.
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: Mrs M. Zeer
I don’t disagree. Blame him and walk away.
I look like him, don’t I?
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: S. Zeer
It’s OK, Sam. I can take it.
I just realised something, though. I look like the bastard, don’t I?
Why did nobody ever tell me this?
I’m not him, though. I’m so totally not him it’s almost untrue.
Tell me, Sam.
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: Mrs R.A. Keller
Dear Gran,
I’m getting pretty sick of the fact that I don’t get proper responses from you, just a note from the nurse about whether you were smiling or frowning. Don’t get me wrong, even that is good, but… you wrote to me. Remember? You wrote. Can’t you do it again?
I’m sorry. I just… I miss you. I’ll see you in a couple of months, all right? But after that, I’ll be gone. Totally. The only thing I will have is these letters, and it’s just not the same.
Maybe I could get them to send me vids. I’ll talk to them when I get there.
I’m all right. Love you.
Jim

T minus four months

From: D. Lau
To: J. Zeer
One month to go. How does it feel? Good, I bet.
“You can do anything you want” – do you realise how fucking loaded those words are for me? Maybe what I want is to scar all the way up my inner arms, you think about that? Huh, Jimbo?
I’m glad you’re fine. I’m not. But you still can’t do anything about it.
You going to drop in on me on your whirlwind tour of the sights of the world? Or maybe we could go take in the Grand Canyon together. Not that you won’t see more impressive things as you swing by Mars, but that won’t be as close, will it? I’d like to join you for a little while – say goodbye properly, so to speak. But, whatever. We can still write, and whatnot.
Dan

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
Thanks, man.
I totally understand you might need to skew your wordcount that way, and I’m not bothered about it, I was just a little worried that something was really the matter. It’s not, is it? She’s all right?
I remember her from when we were little – she was all right, for a grown-up, and that was one hell of a compliment from us.
Anyway. Come see me when they let you out.
Alan

From: S. Tellegrin
To: J. Zeer
Re: Mrs R.A. Keller
The assistant entrusted with your letter reported the following responses:
At the first paragraph: a nod
At the second paragraph: “grand”
At the third paragraph: head tilted to one side
At the end: a smile
S.W.T.

From: Mrs M. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
Jim,
Yes, you do look like him.
But that doesn’t mean anything. I was attracted to him, remember? I fell in love with that face. You are blameless; I am not.
What prompted this? It is in the past. He is in the past. All he ever did that was good was to give me four wonderful sons.
Forget him, Jim. He doesn’t matter to your life.
Your mother,
Mary K. Zeer

From: S. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
You are nothing like him. Nothing like him at all.
There may be a passing resemblance, but…
You’re not him. You hear me? You hear me, Jim?
That out of the way…
I’ve arranged for you to fly straight here the day you get let out of there, you should get a confirmation letter at some point, and I’ll just fill you in on the rest of it when you get here. I’ve done kind of an alternate thing – a few days with family, a week or two free to go where you want, that sort of thing. Pencilled in a few places, made some tentative bookings… anything you want, man, tell me now.
See you soon, bro!
Sam

To: D. Lau
From: J. Zeer
How does it feel? It feels fucking fantastic, is how it feels, but kinda sad at the same time. I’ll be able to breathe again, but… I don’t know, I’m worried about agoraphobia. I’m used to it here. But change is part of life…
That’s one of the things that really worries me about the colony – the lack of potential for change. We’re just going to be living the same lives day after day, going to the same places, seeing the same faces… yeah, yeah, I know that’s what a lot of people do even here, but they still have at least the chance to do something crazy.
Word restrictions have been lifted – massive joy. Of course, it’s also exam season, so I’m flipping madly, but we’ll see.
Don’t, Dan. Don’t hate yourself like that. You’re far from all bad and you know it. I’m sorry about pushing your buttons, but… I don’t want to do this, but… you have to protect yourself. You have to find a way to cut yourself off… OK, bad word choice, but you know what I mean. You can’t let other people affect you that much. You really fucking can’t. All right?
I would love to do some travelling with you. I’ll have to find out what my arrangements are so far, though. In fact… I’ll get Sam to do a business post to you – he’s been organising it all for me.
We will write, though. We will.
Jim

To: S. Zeer
From: J. Zeer
Travelling. Right then.
With you: your place, obviously, and Iceland.
With Dan (Lau): her place and some of North America – Grand Canyon etc – let her plan that bit.
With Lucy (Lockridge): her place and Thailand etc.
Also going home for a bit, visiting Alan, visiting Gran a few times, Tokyo, Macchu Pichu, Egypt, Scotland… where else? I know there’s others… You should know them. I can’t remember any more.
Do you think you could, perhaps, get in touch with Dan and Lucy and sort out some more details? I just… god, I can’t be arsed to do it all. And you like that sort of thing. So if you could it would just rock.
Yeah… word count is no longer applicable.
Of course, I don’t fucking well have anything to say…
Get back to me quickly, all right? This does need done as soon as possible.
Love, Jim

To: Mrs M. Zeer
From: J. Zeer
I don’t know what prompted this. It just happened.
I’m fucked in the head, remember?
I’m OK with this, though.
Love you.
Jim

To: A. Jeffers
From: J. Zeer
Don’t worry, man, she’s fine, it was just me needing to… I don’t know. Talk to her. Not that I’m getting much back these days.
Let us celebrate, for the restrictions of fucking Morale group are over! Yuh-huh, if I decide to write a three-thousand word letter I fucking well can. Not that I will.
Not that I ever fucking well have.
Whoa. That came out of nowhere. Ah. Right. Guess who’s insecure about writing? Could it possibly be RAK’s grandson? No, that can’t be it…
I didn’t tell Mom about the word-count thing. Was that bad of me?
Hey, do you ever wonder how much of myself I keep from you? You know I lie to Mom, you know I lie to Sam… you ever wonder how much I lie to you?
Oh, did I tell you I wanted to come visit? I can’t remember. But I’ll be home at… some point… ask Sam. He knows.
Jim

To: Mrs R.A. Keller
From: J. Zeer
Dear Gran,
Well, it’s only a month until they let us out of the zoo. I don’t know when I’ll get to see you, but I’ll visit as much as I can over the three months after that.
First stop after here is Sam’s for the wedding – that’s going to be interesting, to say the least. Then I am on a magical mystery tour. Well, I know some if not all of the destinations, I just don’t know what order they’re going in, how much time I’m getting in each, all that shit…
Happiness… I think it’s the music. I’ve got happy music on, and I just don’t give a shit about exams and work and worries and Lucy and… ah yeah.
Lucy. Lovely Lucy. Is my friend. Still. Wah. All my fault, obviously, but… oh well, I have the rest of our lives to work on her. I give an evil chuckle or two and try to think of something else to write about…
How you doing? Really? I want to know. It’s going to be great to see you, but I won’t have seen you in two years and I guess I’d like to know what to expect. That sounds bad, doesn’t it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it badly, I just meant… oh, you know what I’m like sometimes, want to know every little detail before I get into a situation. Which is not necessarily a bad way to work sometimes, but it seems to bug the hell out of all the people around me. Whatever… Like I care what they think.
It’s very liberating when you don’t give a damn. I think I’m going to go out for a drink. Oh, this is gonna be fun…
I shouldn’t be telling you things like this, should I? I’m treating you more like a diary than a person. That’s quite nasty of me. I apologise profusely.
Oh, this is so not good… Ending this now.
Love you,
Jim