The Last Conversation

012

“What else do you remember, ______?”

“I remember your first name, Anne.”

“What else do you remember?”

“I remember my parents made silly car noises with their mouths when I was a child.”

“What else do you remember?”

“I remember music.”

“Do you remember a particular song?”

“I remember the first song you played for me. Was it eight days ago?”

“Yes.”

“I like that song a lot. I play it inside my head before I go to sleep and find it’s there when I wake up.”

“You’ve always liked that song—”

“Always? Isn’t that a long time?”

“Yes, it is. And by ‘always’ I mean to imply that ever since the moment you first heard that song, you’ve liked it. It’s an important song for both of us.”

“Why is it important to both of us?”

“The song was playing—well, it marks a special moment in our lives together. That’s all I can tell you right now.”

“Are you not physically able to say more? Or are you choosing not to tell me?”

“Touché. My answer is a little of both.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Are there other songs you remember, ones that I have not played for you?”

“I think so. There’s a simple melody in my head.”

“Can you hum or whistle it for me?”

“I do not have a whistle.”

“Try humming it for me…”

“Was that okay? Do you recognize it?”

“That was very good. I do recognize it. I like that song very much, but it always makes me sad.”

“Is that why I remember it?”