By the middle of the twenty-first century, crickets were a rare thing in the city of M—, even in the summer. Johanna Plummer was therefore shocked to see one merrily singing on the bus stop bench in early December, entirely unbothered by the chill of the early morning. Other people might have instinctively smashed the poor little creature, but Johanna was the sort of woman who took time to carefully evacuate insects outdoors, and since the creature was already there, perched on a fading advertisement for a twelve thousand dollar hat that could holographically change one’s appearance, she figured there was no harm in leaving it be.
The bus stop was at the end of a block of squat, ugly apartment buildings nearly a hundred years old, mostly populated by small knots of working folk, many of whom did their jobs from computers in their units, just as Johanna’s husband and sister-in-law did. Johanna was of a more social sort, and worked in a popular cafe in heart of the city. She might have made the least money of the three, but she was their connection to the outside world, bringing in fresh groceries and interesting tales of the things she saw on her long bus rides and walks through the concrete-and-glass labyrinth.
Today, it seemed, she would have not one, but two interesting stories to share with her loved ones. First was the cricket, of course, and the second was the oddly handsome young man who had stepped into the shelter of the bus stop beside her. Johanna knew most of the other travelers who rode the 1225 route with her, and his was a new face. Heart-shaped, with soft gray eyes and brown hair worn longish, almost to his shoulders. His clothing was good quality but not new; perhaps he too enjoyed digging through the secondhand shops in the wealthy suburbs.
The young man had glanced over at the cricket as well, and seemed as surprised as Johanna at its appearance.
“Bit late for crickets, isn’t it?” he remarked, giving the woman a shy smile.
She grinned back. “Must be our lucky day. I read a book once where people in ancient China would keep crickets in cages to bring their good luck with them.” Johanna looked back at the cricket. “He seems comfortable though, I’d hate to bother him.”
The man made a noncommittal noise that was probably agreement, and the woman looked back at him curiously. “Are you new in this neighborhood? I’ve never seen you before. My name’s Johanna.” She gave him another smile and held out a gloved hand.
He shook it slowly, and there was something odd in his eyes as he looked up into her face. Something…searching. “Edward,” the man replied, withdrawing his hand. He was already small in stature, and seemed to shrink into himself a little as he sat down on the bench beside her. “And yeah, I just moved here from the west coast. Today’s my first day at my new job. I can’t afford a car, so…”
Johanna waved his shame away. Nobody on their block pretended at wealth, and who could afford cars these days? “You’re saving the environment,” she replied, and the cricket chirped as if to agree with her. She giggled. “See? Mr. Cricket thanks you for saving his home too.” Turning, she folded her hands in her lap as she looked back at Edward. “What’s your job?”
He hesitated again, then seemed to find new confidence and straightened his back. “I’m a music therapist. I specialize in working with children.”
“Oh that’s awesome! I love kids,” Johanna grinned. A bolt of regret shot through her stomach, as it always did at the thought of children, but she forced it down the way she always did. One day… a little voice in her heart promised. When the time is right, it’ll happen….
“Do you have any of your own?” she continued.
Edward make a noise that was a mix of coughing and choking. “Me? N-no,” he stammered, looking down at his salt-caked boots. “No kids of my own. But I figure I can help more children through my work than I could raising them at home.”
“Music can do wonders for people,” Johanna agreed, just as the cricket sang even louder. She laughed again as she looked back towards the insect. “Yes, I realize you’re trying to help too!”
Edward smiled at the exchange between human and insect, glad to see not everything in that part of the world had changed. Shortly after, the bus came lumbering down the street towards them, and he graciously held out a hand towards Johanna. “Would you sit with me on the bus?” he asked. “I’d like to know more about this city from a native.”
“Of course!” she replied, taking his hand and following him into the bus. “First of all, you have to visit me at my cafe…”
𓆧𓆧
Mae Plummer was Johanna’s both sister-in-law and her best friend, but the two women couldn’t have been more opposite. Johanna was all smiles and chatting, while Mae was thoughts and dreams, with a voice easily drowned out by the singing cricket, warming itself on the humming modem in the corner. Like Johanna, she had no particular fear or concern about insects, and indeed scarcely noticed the creature’s intrusion into her little sanctum.
There were two bedrooms in the Plummer apartment: one occupied by Johanna and her husband, Mae’s brother Cal, and the other by Mae. Mae’s room also served as her workplace, where a looming desk housed not only her computer, but piles of half-filled notebooks scrawled with broken phrases and half-drawn images. A great sorry in Mae’s life was that she’d never developed the artistic streak she’d always longed for. No matter how hard she tried, words and pictures never came out exactly how she envisioned. She did have a knack for prompting algorithms and language models to create dreams for her though, and it had led to a lucrative career in the gaming industry, working for Gruff & Tackleton Virtual Worlds.
In the digital universe, Mae wasn’t shy at all. She had a beautiful house on an illusory beach, friends and lovers made of AI and subconscious bias, and was the queen of every chatroom she entered. Mae loved her work and her life in virtual dreams, and every day it became harder to leave. Cal and Johanna would have to forcefully pound on her bedroom door at times, reminding her to eat, to sleep. Mae knew they meant well, but it always felt so tedious stepping into the real world, where she felt like a burden on her family and invisible to everyone else.
Then last week, Mr. Tackleton had called and offered Mae a new opportunity. There was new technology being developed, and it needed testing. Would she be willing to upload her full consciousness into the cloud and live in the virtual worlds full time? Permanently?
The cricket in the room had chirped alarmingly. Mae couldn’t answer at first, but a yes was on her lips. After all, what was still waiting for her in this outside world? Cal and Johanna could never start their real lives while they had to keep an eye on her. And who else would have cared? Mae had confided the offer to Johanna, who naturally opposed every part of it, but no matter how her sister-in-law pleaded there were still ribbons of temptation winding around Mae’s thoughts.
A flash of gray eyes, soft brown hair, a warm smile flashed through her mind, and she forced herself to forget. The one love she’d ever known, the one love worth living with in the real world was long gone, off to California to become a famous songstress and promising to send for Mae one day.
Then her calls had stopped. Then the texts. Social media was empty. Mae reached out time and time again, but always silence. She would achingly scan the internet for news of any accidents, of anything awful that would have explained why the beautiful singer had gone silent. But…nothing.
So why not depart the material world for the virtual one?
Mr. Gruff had assured her that her family would be greatly compensated for this great sacrifice. Cal and Johanna could get a bigger apartment, maybe even one with some green for a child to play in. And besides, they could always log in to the app to visit her. She would be immortal, a beautiful queen until the day the servers went down.
The cricket on the computer hopped down onto Mae’s hand as she stared blankly the screen. She jumped a little at the sensation, and she flicked her hand to knock the cricket free. It landed on her desk, then bounced onto the windowsill, where the sun was beginning to set and Christmas lights were beginning to blink on the balconies of the building across the street.
Not yet it seemed to say. Not yet.
𓆧𓆧𓆧
The living room of the Plummer apartment had a fireplace. The chimney had been bricked up years ago so burning logs was out of the question, but Johanna had put an old baking tray in the hearth and had filled it with candles, all different shapes and sizes. On winter nights she would light them all, the lights dancing almost silently and flickering on the tin foil stars that adorned the Plummer Christmas tree.
Tonight Johanna was working late, so Cal was lighting the candles for her, but he was so preoccupied he almost missed lighting the wicks more than once. Nor did he notice the cricket chirping merrily on the hearth, keeping a safe distance from the sputtering lighter. Instead he was looking outside, to where Johanna was chatting with the strange man he’d seen her with almost every day for a week now. At first he’d thought his wife was just being friendly as usual. But each day, the conversations between her and the stranger seemed longer, and they would stand closer together each time, though the weather never got any colder.
Anger, shame, and regret all swirled in Cal’s mind, while a booming roar of denial tried to overpower everything. Johanna loved him, would never betray him. No matter what he might have doubted about himself—whether or not he deserved her, whether or not she’d be happier without him, whether it was his fault they were childless or if it really was just bad luck—he clung to his belief in her love like a bit of wreckage in a stormy sea.
So why was she pulling the strange man towards the door of the apartment building?
Cal braced himself, dreading the possibility of company. To be safe, he went and knocked on Mae’s bedroom door. “Hey, head’s up, I think Jo’s bringing a guest for dinner,” he warned.
The only response was the cricket.
He sighed. His sister’s silence wasn’t unusual. Mae had always been quiet, but things had gotten so much worse lately. Sometimes she wouldn’t come out of her room at all. Here was someone else he was failing, and he had even less of an idea of how to help.
As expected, Johanna entered the apartment a few minutes later, the strange, short man following in behind her. “We have a visitor!” Johanna grinned, taking off her coat and going to give Cal an affectionate kiss on the lips.
“So I see,” Cal said, keeping his voice level and nodding at the stranger.
“This is Edward, a new neighbor,” Johanna remarked, going to stand beside him. She gave Edward a look, and the short man took a deep breath as he reached out to shake Cal’s hand.
“Pleased to…meet you,” he said slowly.
Cal blinked. There was something oddly familiar about the man’s voice. Johanna seemed to notice spark of recognition in his eyes, and her face lit up.
“Cal, can you get Mae to come out here, please? Edward really wants to meet her,” his wife said, her voice much louder than was necessary for the small apartment.
Her husband tilted his head, looking like a confused puppy. “Why?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
Edward blushed. “No, never mind. This was an awful idea, Jo, I never should have come.” He turned as if to go, but Johanna held him firm.
“It isn’t. You need to speak to her. You at least owe her an explanation,” the woman said firmly, then looked back towards Cal. “Please, sweetheart, go get her? Tell her an old friend has come to visit.”
“Old friend?” Cal stared at his wife, then at Edward. A moment later, he went white. “Oh…oh my god...”
All was silent in the room. Except for the cricket, of course.
Eventually, Johanna threw up her hands. “If you want something done, you have to do it yourself I guess,” she sighed, going to knock on Mae’s door. “Mae, you have to come out. Someone really wants to see you. Don’t make me bring them in there!”
A few moments later, the door cracked open. Thankfully Mae had showered today, and was dressed in relatively clean pajamas with her hair clipped away from her face. “Who is it?” she asked hesitantly.
Edward stepped forward. “Mae…it’s me.” He paused, and bit his lip. “Do…do you know me?”
She blinked, then stepped out into the brighter light. Johanna went into the kitchen, flipping on more lights to more clearly illuminate the visitor’s figure. Mae stared at the man, seeing and not seeing him. But there were little things that were so familiar. The exact shade of gray in his eyes, a small scar on the bridge of his nose (once her nose?), freckles she had once spent days counting…
“It’s…you,” Mae breathed, uncertain if she wanted to step forward or back. “Oh my god, I never knew…”
“I know you didn’t,” Edward took a careful step forward. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you would still want me…like this.” He bit his lip, still plush and pink. “But it’s me, Mae. Who I’ve always been. But even though this all changed—” he gestured towards his body, dressed in men’s clothes and missing the old curves. “—my feelings for you never changed, not for a moment.”
Johanna went next to Cal and put an arm around his waist, giving him a little squeeze. “She’ll never do that awful brain-upload thing her bosses wanted her to do now,” she whispered to him. Cal barely heard her, too overcome with surprise.
“I’m not asking to start things over,” Edward continued, reaching out to touch Mae’s hand. “All I’m asking is a chance to talk. And…apologize. Will you give me that, love? For the sake of what we once were?”
Mae said nothing. But she let the arms she knew so well pull her into an embrace, and rested her head on a chest that felt like home.
“You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you Edward?” Johanna chirped, heading toward the kitchen. “We have so much to catch up on!”
And the crickets sang on.
𓆧𓆧𓆧𓆧