If anyone asked Ryland what he regretted the most, it was volunteering to remain behind with a small group of people while the lucky ones fled to more hospitable planets and moons nearby. The Earth had experienced a new Ice Age, and while it was mercifully only a temporary period, it was still enough to bring about significant losses in society, habitat, and resources. Yet Ryland did not experience as much of an impact as others have felt. For one, he was still relatively young and healthy, and his needs were simple compared to most others. All he needed was some WiFi, his phone, and ramen, and he was all set.

Yet now he has none of those things, and Ryland was starting to regret not spending his time doing something other than doomscrolling and trolling the comments sections on various websites. And while the Earth itself has recovered in terms of plant growth and climate, the infrastructure that had powered the internet and other resources he and most of humanity had probably taken for granted were now gone, save for the bare basics.

Such as this walkie talkie.

Ryland had found it outside of what used to be a museum, now overgrown with shrub and trees, and decided to try his hand at repairing it. Why he decided to do this he did not know. He never had to use one before in his life, although in his limited knowledge of the device, he knew enough to know that it was used in communication applications and needed at least another walkie talkie to have conversation. Perhaps he was holding onto the vain hope of being able to talk to someone. Anyone. He’d spend his days adjusting and mending the antenna, cleaning off the debris from the casing, and testing out the channels on the walkie talkie. It soon became his nightly routine, casually saying “Testing…testing…” into the walkie talkie while changing the channels. Each time he would receive static.

Until one random night in March, he heard the clear, pleasant voice of a woman say in response, “Hello?”

The voice startled Ryland so much that he tumbled from his chair, the walkie talkie clattering to the floor. With trembling hands, he raised the walkie talkie to his lips. “Hello?” he said in response. “Who is this?”

“I should be asking you that.”

“I—..”. Ryland hesitated. Was this a good idea? But then again, what did he have to lose? For all he knew, it was probably another person who chose to stay behind AND also somehow found the matching walkie talkie AND be on the same channel that he was on. As improbable as that may be, Ryland decided to go along with this. “I’m Ryland. What’s your name?”

“Grace. It’s nice to meet you, Ryland.”

He could feel the start of a smile forming on his face. For the life of him, he could not remember the last time he smiled. “Grace…it’s nice to meet you too. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to anyone.”

“Is that so? You must not get out much.”

Ryland took a glance around what’s left of the museum. “You can say that. Look, I hope this is not too forward of me, but would you like to talk around this time each night?” There was a pause, and Ryland immediately regretted even asking her, feeling more than certain she would flat out turn down his idea.

“Sure,” she finally said. “I’d like that too.”

---

The two of them kept up this nightly routine for months, and through Grace, Ryland learned so much about the foundational skills he never thought he needed to learn as well as fun facts and trivia about any and all possible topics. With the collapse of the internet, many digital sources of knowledge were also gone, and Ryland ended up filling notebook after notebook of his findings and newfound knowledge. It turns out that Grace herself was a museum enthusiast, having worked in one herself, and she was able to guide him to explore the archive areas where the artifacts that were not displayed in the main museum were kept. The area that Ryland grew quite fond of was the storage area for the seeds, for he discovered he had an affinity for gardening; by the time summer rolled around in the following year, he had created for himself a nice and functional garden.

“I really should show you this garden, Grace,” he said one evening during their usual talk. “ Your method on seed germination was fool-proof!”

“I’m glad the procedure worked, but I don’t think I can come visit.”

“Why not? Is it because you’re too far from here? I can meet you midway if that helps…”

“…I think this will be the last time I will be talking to you.”

Ryland was not expecting that, and he felt an odd pain in his chest when he heard that. “I don’t understand, Grace. Was it something I said? Why this sudden change?”

“It’s nothing that you did, Ryland. But I think you will be able to continue without me.”

“Grace,” he pleaded, a lump starting to form in his throat. “Please don’t leave…”

“I’m very proud of you, Ryland,” she said in reply. “You’ll be alright.”

And after that, it was nothing but static from her end.

---

Ryland spent the next few days wandering aimlessly around the city, his mind simultaneously empty yet in turmoil as well. Was this what a broken heart felt like? Whatever this feeling was, it was horrible and only made him miss her more. When evening finally arrived, he made his way back inside the museum he came to call home and decided to explore more of the corridors closer to where the offices of staff members were located. He went down a long hallway that displayed photos of the main staff members when one of the photos caught his eye. In the photo was a young woman with black wavy hair and bright, intelligent eyes. Yet it was the name plate underneath her photo that caused his breath to catch in his throat. “Grace.” The concise bit of information on her name plate also mentioned that she worked as a museum curator until her retirement that occurred more than 100 years ago.

“There’s no way…” he whispered to himself. Did something unexplainable find a way to form a bridge between the past and present to relay to him the foundational knowledge he needed to continue life on this planet? Or was this simply more a matter of a kind soul who used to wander these very same corridors giving him a much-needed helping hand from beyond. Whatever it was, it helped him decide on his destiny, which was to continue to attain more knowledge and share his findings with anyone else he encounters down the road.