ACT 2

THE NEXT WEEK

It’s a breezy Friday morning outside the garden-like Sienna Trust Assisted Living home.

An outstretched hand waits to support a frail old woman struggling down a steep flight of stairs.

The hand belongs to the old woman’s nurse – Laura.

Walking is difficult. So are using stairs. But the old woman insists upon doing both – even though she clings to Laura. The old woman gives Laura an appreciative smile as she takes her hand.

Carefully, Laura helps the now breathless, wheezing old woman into a waiting car, straps her in, then takes a seat herself as the vehicle departs.

They have not driven far before Laura notices that the ride is already uncomfortable for the old woman.

“You okay?”, she checks on the elderly woman.

Slowly, the old woman turns to Laura, nods, smiles – then returns her gaze to the hills rolling by.

Several hours later they arrive at a hospital. Its large automatic doors open, and – with the help of Laura - the old woman shuffles into the hospital lobby.

A doctor is waiting at the front desk to greet her,

“You must be Kelly?”

“I guess I must!”, Kelly smiles brightly.

“She’s waiting for you.”, the doctor says before leading Kelly and Laura through the busy lobby.

They reach a private room that the doctor opens using an electronic keypad. As it opens, it makes the same beeps that could barely be heard in the darkness after midnight so many times before.

“She won’t be able to physically respond in any way. But she can hear you.”, the doctor informs Kelly before he leaves to give her - and Laura - some privacy with the patient.

In the sterile hospital room, the elderly Yorkie lies motionless - staring blankly at the ceiling.

Aged and paralyzed, her long, lanky frame lays attached to a ventilator that makes the same compressed whooshing sounds that were almost imperceptible in the dark after midnight.

After taking a moment to fill her lungs with the air she needs to make the short walk to Yorkie’s hospital bed, Kelly totters forward. On reaching Yorkie’s bedside, Kelly takes hold of its railings for support.

Now steady on her feet, Kelly takes a good, long look at Yorkie.

She recognizes Yorkie’s face instantly. It’s the same, but so much older – just like hers.

Yorkie’s gaze is fixed but she is not blind. She sees the older Kelly standing above her and immediately recognizes her too. Yorkie's eyes twinkle.

Seeing Yorkie's glimmer, Kelly leans forward and smiles.

"Hello, Stupid!", she playfully whispers.

Then – already knowing that although Yorkie cannot move, she can feel - Kelly reaches for her hand and caresses it.

At the risk of losing her balance, a shaky Kelly lets go of the rail - to reach over and stroke Yorkie’s white hair - and kiss her face.

Yorkie’s heart races as Kelly’s fingers run through her hair. She watches Kelly beside her, listens to her voice, and feels the warmth of her kiss.

That day - with the help of a communication box - Yorkie and Kelly visit together - outside of San Junipero.

Later - outside of Yorkie's room - as Laura leads Kelly down a hospital hallway, a male nurse rushes to catch up to them, “Uh---Hello! Excuse me. Is it --– Kelly?”

“It is.”, Kelly wonders what he wants.

The male nurse leans forward with a friendly smile, “I’m Greg.”

Kelly looks him up and down - gawking.

“You’re Greg? Well, Holy Shit!”, she exclaims - to Greg and Laura’s amusement.

Still chuckling, Greg quickly composing himself, “You know, I think it’s great that you came down here in person before she passes over. Even her folks don’t come visit no more so---”

“She’s passing over?”, an alarmed Kelly interrupts him – suddenly realizing that Yorkie has never mentioned wanting to pass over into San Junipero or having plans to be euthanized to do it.

Aware that Kelly is Yorkie’s lover, it surprises Greg that she doesn’t know Yorkie’s plans. Realizing that he has shaken Kelly with this news, Greg glances apologetically at Laura.

“When?”, Kelly pleads.

Wanting to calm the distraught old woman, Greg suggests that he and Kelly grab a coffee together.

As he leads Kelly to a cafeteria table, Greg ventures to confirm, “So, she didn’t tell you?”

“No, she did not! Said she was just visiting.”, Kelly grumbles – remembering every time Yorkie was confounded by being called a ‘tourist’.

“More like sampling the trial version.”, Greg clarifies - helping Kelly into a seat.

“I mean---I’ve only known her—--the past—--three years. We talk --- on the comm box.”, Greg suddenly volunteers – as if to stress that his relationship with Yorkie is platonic.

Brushing past his unsolicited disclosure, Kelly is more concerned with learning what else Yorkie has not told her.

“She told you how she ended up quadriplegic, and how long she been that way?”, Greg inquires.

Shaking her head, Kelly frowns. She doesn’t know any of that either.

“One night, she's twenty-one -- comes out to her folks. They’re a little ‘uptight’ about it you might say. Tell her they don't want a gay daughter. It’s not natural and so forth. They fight, she gets in her car, runs it off the road. Boom!”, Greg snaps his fingers.

“When she was twenty-one?”, Kelly empathizes - finally understanding the nature of Yorkie’s nascence.

“Mm-hmm. More'n forty years back. It’s been her whole lifetime basically. So, the whole San Junipero system's been a big deal for her. The biggest deal ---”

While Greg speaks, Kelly regretfully recalls her fight with Yorkie in Tucker’s 2002.

Greg doesn’t notice, “'Course till she passes over, goes permanent, she's on the five-hour weekly limit. I guess you're the same.”

Nodding, Kelly laments, “They ration it out. They don’t trust us with more ---- The system's there for therapeutic reasons. "Immersive Nostalgia Therapy" --- cons you into a world of memories."

Greg half-heartedly agrees and takes a sip of coffee.

Kelly watches him drink - then with a coy smile - probes, “Now, about this marriage?”

Greg - surprised that Yorkie mentioned that - of all things - to Kelly - glances from side to side, “State's got a triple-lock down on euthanasia cases. You gotta have a sign off from the doc, the patient, and a family member. Stops folks from passing over just 'cause they prefer San Junipero flat out. Anyhow, Yorkie's family –-- They’re big time religious and they will not sign.”

“But a spouse can override that. Hence the wedding bells.”, Kelly assesses quickly.

“You got it!", Greg confirms. "We got a pastor coming tomorrow A.M. and then she's scheduled to pass tomorrow afternoon.”

Kelly sighs, “'Scheduled to pass'. Let's just call it dying.”

“If you ‘can’ call it dying.”, Greg tries to be reassuring.

But Kelly scoffs, “Uploaded to the cloud. Sounds like heaven.”

Greg pauses to reconsider. “I guess.”, he thoughtfully concedes.

They sit quietly for only a moment before Kelly jokes, “You gonna wear a suit?”

Greg chuckles, “Ceremony's on my coffee break. I never married, so I just figured –you know --what's the harm?”

“You're a good man.”, Kelly smiles at him.

Greg shrugs. “Least I could do, right?”

It’s when Greg says this that an idea starts to form in Kelly's head.

With only about three months left to live, she never imagined she would find love again, so what’s the harm in spending the time left in the most committed way she knows how - being married – to Yorkie. It’s the least she can do for her Yorkie - whose missed out on so much of Life's joys.

The excitement and anticipation start to surge in Kelly - but she also worries whether Yorkie – who, understandably, didn’t tell her so many personal things - will agree to marry her.

Despite this concern, Kelly makes her move on Greg, “Think you could hook us up to the system, now, just for a little while, before she passes?”

Greg chuckles again at her impossible request, “You can still see her afterwards. I mean ---then she's 'no limits', she's full-fat, permanent San Juniperan.”

“I know --- but can you?”, Kelly purrs.

Firmly, Greg tries to insist, “Seriously, it is so tight here that they monitor every single ----”

“I only want a moment!”, Kelly coos.

Greg nervously shakes his leg - while Kelly waits expectantly. He is no match for her persuasion, and he finally gives in.

Back in Yorkie’s hospital room, Kelly pulls a wand-like device from her handbag.

It is a port for a small white ‘experiencer’ disk that – with the help of Laura – she attaches to her right temple.

Greg attaches one to Yorkie’s right temple too.

They work quickly and quietly in the now dimly lit room.

“Ma’am.”, Greg calls to Kelly in a hushed voice. “You have five minutes.”

“Thank you.”, Kelly gratefully whispers back.

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and presses the button.

Instantaneously, the disk transports her consciousness into a white haze - that she immediately emerges from as her twenty-something year-old self in San Junipero.