Prologue
It had always been a thought wedged just behind my forehead sitting comfortably on the cusp of my brain – Seattle.
Checking my bank statements and feeling out the possibilities of steady service demand. I had built a following for Seattle; I had worked at many a celebrity party and charity gala in Chicago making sure not to get stuck in the homecoming, prom, and bar mitzvah scene. I had a made a name for myself, I was called The Eclipse in the music world.
If you really wanted to analyze it I guess you could say I became a "celebrity" DJ for her. I just wanted to be close to her.
We'd been talking for four years. Ever since she had just turned 17 and I 20 we had been talking almost every other day. We talked about everything… except her life. It wasn't a drawn in the sand line I couldn't cross. I never pointed it out but even though she told me blips of her family and friends and was honest with her thoughts she was really good at evading. I knew nothing of how she spent her day or what she wanted to do, if she had any rituals she followed. She knew all these things about me. It wasn't fair.
I just wanted to know her.
It was in the early hours of the morning when I had gone on Chatroulette, strictly out of boredom and horniness (girls feel much more free to flash their tits over webcam than in person). I was flipping through the mecca of penises when I stopped my steady clicking to see a brown haired girl with very heavy eye makeup that she was cleaning off with a baby wipe being assisted by the biggest dog I had ever seen. Her smile for the brute was blinding.
My mother was terrified of dogs so I had never known living with one. The idea of having their tongue on her person was one of my mother's main reasons for the aversion and yet this girl accepted it quite freely and willingly.
So I decided to tactfully say hello. My mic was on mute and from what I could tell so was hers so I greeted textually.
You: What the hell is that?
She laughed and had to reach her arm over the dog to type a response.
Stranger: It's called a dog.
You: Looks like a fuckin' bear wolf hybrid.
She rolled her eyes at me
Stranger: It's called a Malamute.
She threw the baby wipes marked with black and red in the trash bin beside her. She jotted down a few notes on a pad next to her.
You: What's his name?
She looked up at the bing and typed a response.
Stranger: Billy.
The dog was practically in her lap now. From the looks of it she appeared to be sitting on the edge of a bed.
You: How old is he?
Stranger: As old as me.
I shot her an annoyed look.
Stranger: 17.
You: Is that normal?
Stranger: Nope.
Stranger: Dogs are weird though. They kind of defy normal time lines and behaviors.
Stranger: Do you have a dog?
You: No. My mom hates them. She thinks they're gross.
Stranger: I could see how someone could think that.
Even as she responded her eyes were on the big Billy, typing with one hand and the other playing with his ear.
You: What do you mean about dogs defying normal time lines and shit?
Stranger: Well, I think Billy's lived this long to take care of me. You always read stories in the paper and "based on a true story" movies about these amazing bonds dogs have with people. I think it's true. I've watched enough documentaries to know that they have been breed over hundred and hundreds of years to love us unconditionally.
You: Nothing can love unconditionally.
Stranger: Dogs can.
You: I bet if you stopped feeding him he'd leave.
She stopped petting the dog to type with both hands.
Stranger: One time when I was about four or five I went out into the shed to fill the dog dish. As I came out I tripped over a poorly laid brick and I fell hitting my knee and sending the dog food across the path. Billy came and sat down next to me, not even glancing at the kibble on the ground and licked my tears away as I cried. Even when I got up to sweep the food back into the bowl he just stood by my side paying attention to the knee I had landed on. I placed the food bowl in it's usual place and yet he still didn't eat a single bit of it until my dad had gotten me some Cheez Itz, a juice box, and I was sitting comfortably in my chair watching Elmo's World.
You: That's quite a story.
Stranger: It's true.
In the video chat I could see her glaring at me and I couldn't help but smile. Her eyes were crinkled and her nose all scrunched up with this damn fluffy monster thing of a dog sticking its tongue in her ear.
You: You're cute.
Stranger: You're scruffy.
I ran my hand across my jaw and felt the stubble coming in.
You: Good thing you aren't.
Stranger: You should be indifferent to such things.
You: Why do you say that?
Stranger: I'm just a girl you saw on the Internet; I have no name to you except for stranger. Physical appearance practically means nothing when you'll never meet a person.
You: Who says we'll never meet?
Stranger: Me.
Stranger: Common sense.
You: I wouldn't be so sure; we've got a whole lot of life to live. I bet we could meet sometime.
Stranger: Why, so you could meet the dog freak in person?
You: No, so I could meet you in person.
You: The name's Edward.
Stranger: Bella.
You: You gotta Skype?
Four the next four years I learned about her thoughts and her character and eventually, her last name. Swan. Her name was Isabella Swan from Seattle.
I had to meet her.