Riley was dying.
She knew it was coming. After 89 years her life had to end eventually. The realization had actually given her a fair bit of relief, though she would have preferred different circumstances. Passing on in her old bedroom, or anywhere at home, would have been better than this hospital room. Riley had occupied the room for a week now, after sharp pain convinced her to call an ambulance. Before that she had suffered headaches, achy joints, fatigue. Old age, she told herself. Perfectly normal. Finally, though, she gave in and had herself admitted. Something was definitely wrong.
The room wasn't ideal. It was small and certain features were lacking. The single bed was comfortable enough. The same could not be said for the hard backed chairs. The large window was a delight, though. It gave her a wide view of the birds, the blue sky and San Francisco.
Moving to the city had certainly been a trying experience. Riley still recalled how she had broken down and even tried to run away after first arriving. Even now, she still sometimes missed the Minnesota snow and woods, despite returning every so often. San Francisco, though, had become home. She loved the hills, the ocean and the people. She had played, worked, lived, laughed and cried here. This was where her family had been raised, and then brought up their own children. Some were gone now but others remained, enough that she had received visitors in this room every day since arriving.
Having visitors helped kill time, but the days still passed slowly. There just really wasn't much to do in this room. Every now and then she would try to read, but her eyes grew tired and fingers started to slip. A lot of time was spent lying down, reminiscing. Riley thought of her life and different events she had experienced. Sometimes the memories were frequent and at other times her mind was fuzzy and slow. Back at home Riley had sometimes reminisced but never for long, always finding something else to do instead. Here, she spent hours on end reviewing memories.
She wasn't the only one. In her head, in her brain, in headquarters, were the Emotions. There were some physical changes, like the white hair each had that matched Riley's. There were some behavioural changes too. For the most part, though, each had retained the same essential personalities they always had. They also now sat on a long couch behind a massive console. That console was quiet for the moment, as all five watched a memory of Riley and Meg as children. They played with plastic dinosaurs, surrounded by various other toys.
"Ooooooh, look how cute they were," Joy said. "The two of them were almost never apart back then. It's so nice Riley still has this memory, especially considering so many other friends aren't around anymore."
"We know Meg is still alive because of those flowers she sent Riley," said Sadness. "Riley put them in the middle of the dozen other bouquets she received."
"It's nice to see good flowers," said Disgust. "Much better than those awful plastic ones."
"Those really were pathetic," remarked Anger. "Why even bother?"
"Maybe they thought Riley has allergies," said Fear. "Maybe she does. We better not smell them."
For a few seconds it seemed everyone agreed. Then slowly, deliberately, Joy reached forward and pushed a lever. Riley picked a flower from Meg's bouquet and inhaled deeply.
Fear sat straight up and almost perfectly still. The silence was broken when the others laughed. Joy was the loudest, followed by rough har-har-hars from Anger, giggles from Disgust and quiet chuckling by Sadness. Joy even had to clutch the console for support. The laughter subsided enough for them all to hear Fear say "that wasn't funny," which set everyone off again.
The laughter slowed and Riley returned the flower. Another memory appeared. It was her driving, stuck in traffic with a screaming child in the backseat. It was one of the times Riley would have preferred to forget, but still showed up randomly. Strange how she could forget so many things, some very important, yet still have space to recall such a mundane time.
Another memory came, of Riley riding an elevator to a job interview. Another, of her drinking coffee in a cafe. Another, building a snowman in Minnesota. The Emotions watched in silence. They were used to this near constant stream of memories now. Still, it was tough watching the past and knowing what the future held.
It was worst for Joy, who had tried so hard for so long to make Riley happy. Now she could do little but sit back and wait for the inevitable. Fear and Disgust had done a good job of preventing an early death, but there was nothing any of them could do about old age. All of the Emotions knew what was coming, eventually, but rarely spoke of it. Even when Riley discussed end of life plans and funeral arrangements the Emotions simply did their jobs rather than talk about it.
Joy got up and moved slowly, so slowly, away from the console. She hadn't always been this sluggish. There was once a time when she danced, skated and ran every day. Now, like the others, she no longer had the energy. Anger didn't stomp around and Fear kept his panicking strictly to the couch. Things had gotten a lot quieter over the years.
The same was true of Riley. The girl who used to tear across the ice or run all throughout the house could now barely climb stairs. For a time she had kept busy with yoga and dog walking, then gardening and grandkids, but time had taken a toll.
Joy reached the windows and looked out. The view was still dominated by the personality islands. Some had been present for nearly all of Riley's life, like the very large Friendship Island. Others, including Boy Band Island, had lasted a few years before crumbling. Anger had been especially pleased when that one fell. Beyond the islands were other facilities – Long Term Memory, Imagination Land, Dream Productions and all the rest. Joy couldn't see from headquarters but knew that each was staffed with the actors, maintenance workers, guards and others that had kept Riley's mind in top shape. How many of them were there? Hundreds, at least. Sometimes Joy wished she could have met more of them, but she belonged behind the console.
"What was that?" Fear asked suddenly. There was a sound in the hallway. Joy tuned and began the slow walk back to the couch. A nurse entered the room, pushing a cart. "Oh," said Fear with relief. "That could have been something terrible."
"In the hospital, at the same time the meals have arrived every day?" said Disgust.
"Well, it could have been something slightly unpleasant," said Fear.
"Let's see what Riley gets to eat before we make up our minds," muttered Anger.
"Well, Riley isn't really hungry," said Joy, returning to the console. "But she needs to eat anyways." The tall Emotion pushed a button.
"Supper already?" asked Riley, trying to prop herself up in bed. "It feels like I just ate lunch."
"The sandwich was dry," said Disgust.
"It is. Time flies, doesn't it?" said the nurse. She had become Riley's favourite over the last few days, always quick with a joke but very professional. Plus, she was usually the one bringing the meal cart.
Disgust looked on with disdain as the nurse brought over a tray for Riley. "Ugh, let's hope there's no broccoli." Riley had never gotten over her dislike of the vegetable. She had made a big show of rejecting it a few nights previously when it showed up alongside meat loaf and mashed potatoes.
"I hope there's no broccoli," said Riley as the nurse lifted the lid.
"Salmon, peas and rice," said Disgust. "Much better."
"Oh, that's much better," said Riley.
"It looks delicious," said Joy.
"It looks delicious," said Riley.
"Remember that time Riley spilled peas all over the table at Thanksgiving?" said Sadness. The memory quickly flashed before them.
"Well, now we do," said Disgust.
"Salmon is such a nice fish," said Joy happily.
"Only if cooked properly," said Fear.
"Bon appétit," said the nurse. "Someone will collect the tray later." She turned to leave, pushing the cart. "Oh, and your grandson Rudy called. He won't be able to visit tonight after all."
"Oh no," said Sadness.
"Oh," said Riley. "Did he say why?"
"No. Perhaps someone else will drop by, though." With that the nurse left and the meal cart click-clacked down the hall.
"That little brat," said Anger. "This is the second time. He was supposed to visit Riley at home two weeks ago."
"Well, whatever," Disgust said. "Clearly he has more important things to do."
"Maybe he doesn't want to see Riley again," said Fear. "Is it something we did?"
"We should write him out of the will," said Anger, rubbing his hands together."
"He probably just doesn't want to spend any time with an old lady," said Sadness. "Can we blame him?"
"Everyone, please," said Joy. "Riley has had lots of visitors and Rudy sent a nice card. He must be busy."
"Always a good for nothing," muttered Anger, his white hair smoking slightly.
Joy switched tacks. "Maybe Riley should just have dessert. It's chocolate cake."
The others grumbled and muttered but soon grew quiet. In the past all of the Emotions would have made a much bigger deal out of such an event. Now, it felt almost too trivial to make a fuss. There would be other days, other visitors. Probably.
Riley wasn't sad, or angry, or annoyed with Rudy. It was a more nuanced feeling, like everything was mixed together. This was almost always the case. When she was younger there was almost always one emotion that dominated every situation and memory. Over time, everything became more balanced. Eventually she decided this was a sign of maturity. All of the Emotions would now push buttons or pull levers together. Them working in tandem was what made Riley feel these mixed emotions. It was something they had gotten good at over the years. Their teamwork now meant that Riley could adjust easily to new situations and feelings.
As Riley ate the cake a new memory emerged. It was another cake, this one at a birthday party. Riley blew out the candles. Her parents were there too. Once, this had been an entirely joyous memory. Now nearly everyone present was dead, including her parents. The memory was far more melancholic now. Nearly all her memories were this way. Happy bike trips blended with fear of falling, anger at another depressing news headline mixed with disgust that the world was in such a sorry state.
Riley kept thinking of her parents now as memory after memory flashed. Hockey matches, board games and school plays all appeared and vanished. The Emotions watched each silently, recalling every event and the roles they had played in them. Suddenly, a memory of Riley at the beach.
"It seems so long ago," said Sadness. "Was this her last beach visit?"
"Yes," said Joy. "Warm but not too hot. We had ice cream and watched the children play."
"Oh come on, it was way too hot," Disgust scoffed. "And smelled awful."
"Riley should have worn more sunscreen," said Fear. "She could still get skin cancer."
"At least Riley enjoyed it," said Sadness, as the memory faded. Riley was staring at the ceiling, as she had done many times lately. The Emotions were quiet.
"We've had good times," Anger said finally.
"Some bad ones too," said Sadness.
"Mostly good ones, though," Joy added.
"They were best when we stayed careful," said Anger.
"Yeah, and when we managed to keep it cool," said Disgust.
Riley was breathing slowly now. She settled back into bed and closed her eyes. "Nap time already?" said Disgust. "It's a bit early."
"Yes, but Riley is sleeping a lot more lately," said Joy. "We might as well take a break while Dream-"
She was cut off by something none of them had ever seen. There was a blinding flash of light, and then memories began to flood in. Most lasted less than a second, some a little longer. Riley playing in a sandbox. Riley colouring. Riley in the second grade spelling bee. Riley writing an exam. Riley on a date. Riley with her children. Riley watching hockey. Riley walking through the mall. The memories overlapped and flashed, flickered and disappeared. A kaleidoscope of colours burst forth, filling the whole space with a dazzling display. The Emotions had to squint and stare just to get a glimpse into what had made up Riley's life.
Then suddenly, the spectacle ended. The Emotions were still silent. Each of them knew what they had just seen, and what it meant. The light that remained began to dim as Riley's breathing grew even slower.
"Well," said Joy slowly, "we did all know this time would come."
"I'll miss each of you," said Sadness quietly.
"Goodbye," said Anger.
"We really did have a lot of good times," said Disgust.
"Now, it seems our job is over," said Fear.
Joy reached out her hands to Disgust and Fear, who grasped on tight. Quickly all five Emotions held onto each other. They had spent a lifetime keeping Riley happy, sad, angry, afraid and disgusted. Now, it was finally time for their services to end.
The lights continued to dim. Already it was too dark for the Emotions to see the console, or each other. All they could do was continue hold on tight and remember everything. Then the darkness became complete and all ceased to be...