The Egg Said Nothing - Caris O'Malley [16]
Too weird, I thought.
I walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was two days prior that I was last in there, and there sure as hell wasn’t any letter. But there it was: a neat stack of papers sitting on the top shelf. I reached out and picked them up. They were written in my own distinctly sloppy handwriting. There was a date at the top: February 2, 2046.
I shook my head and closed the refrigerator door. Walking out to the couch, I stared at the papers, baffled. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. This was fucking crazy.
Okay, I know this shit is absolutely nuts. You’ve watched the video, so I hope you’re starting to get what’s going on. I made the video so you’d have more evidence that what I’m saying—what you’re saying—is true. I know you’ll come to accept it because, well, I’ve lived it. Anyway. Moving on.
In the near future, you’re going to undergo a very significant change. You’re going to be hit with the biggest idea of your life, which, coincidently, is the most important achievement of your generation.
At around eight o’clock tonight, Ashley will knock on your door, looking for affirmation that everything that has transpired between you is true. You’re going to reassure her, as you will for the next month or so. She’ll grow to understand your feelings for her and will become more secure. As it turns out, she really loves you. She was stricken, apparently, by the way you looked at her in Pete’s. Although she’s fucking gorgeous, she’s never had anyone look at her like that. Gents have lusted after her and tried to claim her, but none have simply appreciated her. You’re going to change her definition of masculinity.
And, coincidently, you’re going to change how virtually everyone sees gender. In about ten years. You’ll plant the seed in about five, but it will take time to germinate. I’m getting ahead of myself.
Tonight, you and Ashley will leave your apartment. You’re going to get in a cab and go to her place. While you’re there, you’ll watch a movie. It’s a shitty horror movie that she’s picked out just for you. It’s ridiculously sweet, and is the point at which you accept that she really likes you. After the movie is over, she’s going to take a phone call. It’s her mother, and it’s going to take a while. While you’re waiting, you’ll find yourself wandering around her apartment. That musty smell you like? It’s books. Her apartment is covered with them. You’ll pick one up. It’s called A Vindication of the Rights of Women. You flip through it and randomly open up to a page. On that page, you’ll read something revelatory.
When Ashley gets off the phone, you discuss it with her. You gain her perspective on things and formulate an idea. A rough version of the idea comes out of your mouth, and Ashley is going to think it’s brilliant. She’ll make you sit down and write it out so you don’t forget. The next day, you’ll work on it some more. You’re going to make several trips to the library, and you’re going to start talking to strangers, to anyone who’ll listen.
Eventually, you’ll put these thoughts down in a book. It’s going to be published and reviewed by all the right people. It’s going to be a phenomenon, and you’re going to be credited with creating a new theory of gender relations. This will cause a great power shift that results in gender equality the likes of which the world has never seen. Actual balance will be close at hand, and you’ll be heralded as the savior of the contemporary family when the divorce rate plummets.
Why don’t I tell you what this revelation is now so we might get to this whole great thing faster? Because it must not happen.
Fringe groups will emerge, claiming you’re disrupting the natural order. Your opposition will be few in number, but will be starkly radical and violent. Their actions will result in the death of the third female president of the United States. This cannot happen.
Her death, you see, brought the process to a halt. She was the only hope