Justin has woken up and disappeared a few hours ago, and it’s Suzy’s and my pleasure to tell Joy a bedtime story. 

Today she chose to sleep in Justin’s old room in our house on the island. 

She looks at the old posters of Pete Sampras and Steffi Graf. “Do all the kids have posters in the real world?” she asks. 

“Well, a lot of them,” Suzy says. 

“Do all of them play tennis?”  

“No, not really.” 

“What do kids play?” 

“All kinds of things. Like soccer. Football. Baseball. Catch. I… I don’t know.” 

I try to think about what our other grandchildren play. “Oh! Thomas and Emma play, uh, on, I think they’re called consoles.” 

“What’s consoles?” 

“It’s, uh…” How would you explain computers and complex electronics to a child who lives on a pirate ship and has had only swashbuckling adventures all of her life? “It’s just games on a screen.” 

“Do all the kids have consoles?” I see now that tears are forming in her eyes. 

“Not, uh, everybody. But a lot of kids in Canada, and in the United States, where Charlie is from, and, uh, in other countries, too. What’s that matter, Joy?” 

She looks down. “I don’t have a console. I don’t live in the real world. I don’t have a real shadow like Dad. I don’t know real games. I don’t have a real life. I just have this life. Everyone else has this life and the real life! Why do I only have this?” 

She is hiding her face, but she’s crying. 

Suzy sits down next to her and hugs her. “Oh, dearie, we really don’t know.” 

“Why am I so different, Grandma?” She falls into Suzy’s chest. 

Suzy inhales and exhales slowly, as if she is taking in all of Joy’s pain to herself. “I don’t know, Joy. I’ve never heard of anyone else like you. I don’t know why this is happening.” 

“Everyone else is real!” Joy cries. “I want to be real! Why aren’t I real? Why am I so different?” 

“I don’t know, dearie,” Suzy hugs her tightly. “I don’t know. It’s so painful to feel so alone.” Joy, hidden in Suzy’s chest, nods. “So painful to feel this alone. And different. And not knowing why.” 

Joy cries louder. And today she cries herself to sleep in Suzy’s arms. And my heart breaks for her.

—Told by Grampa Walt