“Scruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuumptious!!!!!!!!” 
Cape Town, South Africa
Part 135
“Jeeeeeez, G, gimme a fucking break! There are people reading this.”
“Hey, stop stressing. They’re cool. They know I’m a bit of an oddball. So are you pleased with the job I did of re-writing your story?”
“Yeah. Thanks for all the corrections and stuff, like adding ‘g’ to words ending in ‘ing’. Hehehe. At 15 I adopted that kinda style cos I thought it was cool. But Paul told me that I’d get into bad habits and that it would affect my school work. It didn’t, though. Anyway, G, you did a totally great job. Nobody else coulda done it. Thanks a stack.”
“No regrets?”
“Yeah, a few, I guess. Some of the stuff I wrote was a bit fucking lamo. If I’d known it was gonna be published I wouldn’t have written some of that shit. But I guess it doesn’t matter now. Nobody’s complaining so maybe it wasn’t so lamo after all.”
“We all make mistakes, mate.”
“You’re not kidding, G. Hehehehahahahohohoho. Guess what? I’ve seen your whole life from here. Whoa! You’re way crazier than I thought!”
“Everything?”
“Yep. The whole damn lot. Even that time you and that dude…”
“Hey! Wait up! Uh… can we have a change of sub?”
“I noticed you were feeling pretty down when you wrote that last chapter.”
“Yeah. The last six months writing The Codeman have been a great source of comfort to me. You were with me five days a week, just like the good old days. But now it’s all over. In a way, though, I feel that I’ve accomplished something important – making sure that your story has been told before I fall off the perch. I almost did last year with the heart attack. But your story really needed to be told. And I guess I feel a sense of closure now. Of completeness. I didn’t get to go to your memorial service, or be present when your ashes were scattered, so I guess I’ve always felt kinda lost – in some sorta Limbo. Writing your story has helped me come to terms with my loss. And it was helpful to be typing the very same words you typed over the years. It meant a lot more to me than simply reading them. It caused me to often pause and think more deeply about what you’d written. Not to mention how much you’d written. I’ve figured out that you wrote about 350,000 words to me. That’s awesome considering you were a teen with a million other things to occupy your time.”
“Yeah, well, you were a good listener, and I needed to tell someone about stuff I couldn’t tell anyone else. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through some of the shit that happened between me and Mark or me and Steve, or even as far back as me and Paul. So you’re feeling better now?”
“Maybe better’s not the right word, Code. It’s gonna be strange going back to writing Daniel’s Diary and other stories without your being there to read them.”
“Who says I’m not here to read them?”
“Oh?”
“Just think of me when you write them, G. I’ll be here. Besides, once you start focusing on Daniel and the other characters it’ll become easier. You’ll see. The creative juices will start flowing again.”
“I hope you’re right, Code. I’m not as confident without you around; I mean, like your being on the other end of this computer, putting toilet paper down your briefs hehehe.”
“You’ve been talking to Nev about maybe writing a story about a dude with same-sex parents. That’s a pretty interesting plot.”
“Scary, if you ask me. I dunno if I’m smart enough to tackle that kinda issue.”
“Do what you’ve always done, G. Jump in the deep end and go for it.”
“How’s Wingnut?”
“A little confused. He’s going through some of the same kinda shit I did at his age, but he’ll be OK.”
“Steve? Mark? Paul? Steph? Your folks?”
“Yep, they’re all OK. You’ve gotta remember, G, there were lots of times that I wasn’t OK, but then things would work out. So just cos life has its hills and valleys doesn’t mean somebody’s gotta be on a permanent downer.”
“It’s just that Steve doesn’t write all that much these days, and he’s late with your News Page.”
“Don’t worry about Steve. He was like that when I was alive. I wouldn’t see him for ages and then all of a sudden he’d be all over me like a damn rash. He’ll get around to writing you when the time’s right. Just keep doing whatya do, G, and let the rest take care of itself.”
“So you’re the one giving me advice now?”
“Yeah, well - hehehe, I’m smarter than you now.” :)
“In many ways you always were. You did things I’ve never done and could never do. You taught me a helluva lot about life and relationships. I’m a much different person to the one I was before meeting you.”
“You’re the same, G. Just cooler.” :)
“I’m gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss not writing The Codeman story every day. Big time.”
“There’s a bit of the Codeman in everything you write, G. Always has, always will be. Hey, Daniel was always my hero. Whilever you write about Daniel, you’ll be writing about me. Jeez, how could anyone forget about Daniel and Paul visiting me in Cape Town? Fucking hell, it was so damn real that I’d come home from school expecting him to be in my room!”
“I remember you telling me one morning how you were ready for school, with your hair brushed, and your teeth brushed, and your brown shoes polished. You must’ve been quite a sight walking to school. Your folks must’ve been so damn proud of you.”
“They were, G. My dad gave up a more promising career cos he wanted to spend quality time with his family. They were the best folks a guy could want. Maybe a bit strict sometimes, but way damn cool. Anyway, I know my folks are cool cos all my friends kinda adopted them as a second family.”
“You were an awesome communicator, Code. You involved me, and subsequently all MrB readers, in your life and the lives of all who knew you to the extent that we felt personally involved; even intimately involved.”
“I was like that with everyone. I wanted all my friends to know my folks, and my folks to know them. Everyone was welcome at my house anytime. Fucking hell, Wingnut practically lived there. He’d breeze into my room like it was our room hehehehe. I enjoyed having people around, and it was even cooler when my folks embraced them as friends as well. So I guess that’s how I wanted you to feel; like part of the family, even though you were the fossil from far across the sea.”
“And then MrB readers came on board as well.”
“Yeah, that kinda surprised me – that total strangers would get involved with Mark and Wingnut and Steve the way they did. And me.”
“Did you ever feel pressured to tell me only the good stuff?”
“Not really. I’d check Daniel’s Diary and realize that life wasn’t always whatya wanted it to be. That we all had a lotta probs to sort out. Daniel sorted out his probs so I figured I could solve mine as well.”
“Well, I can’t ever thank you enough for what you’ve done for me, Code.”
“Same here, G. Keep the old chin up, huh? Just keep pluggin’ away, doing whatya do. And never remove that note from me that’s pinned to your notice board. Just check it out anytime you want inspiration. I’ll always be here forya, G, just like you were for me.”
“I’m feeling so empty.”
“You will for a while, but that’ll change.”
“A friend of mine Nev believes in reincarnation. Is it true?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, G. There’s lots of stuff I can’t tellya cos you’re not ready for it yet.”
“I remember you saying that you wouldn’t be meeting anyone you knew on the internet “in this lifetime”. Did you have an inkling that there was some kinda hereafter?”
“I guess I did.”
“Is there?”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
“You sound happy.”
“No hills and valleys here, G. We don’t use words like ‘happy’ here cos there’s no opposite. It’s not like life on Earth.”
“Will I meet you one day?”
“Yep.”
“I can’t wait.”
“You’ll have to wait, G. You’ve still got a shitload of work that needs to be done. Keep those fingers busy. ON THE DAMN KEYBOARD, G! :) And, hey, ifya ever get a bit miserable you can always write me on your My Best Friend page. OK?”
“Yeah, OK. Thanks. So is this it?”
“It? What doya mean it? Like I’m gonna say cya l8er and that’s it? No fucking way, G. Just cos you’ve finished writing The Codeman doesn’t mean Cody is over. Cody’s gonna be with you forever. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Hey, I know it’s not easy. I knowya miss me, and my emails. I know you’re pissed off, and I guess I’d be pissed off, too, if you weren’t. But it’s like the advice you gave me when Paul went to England and Mark went to Joburg. You can’t just give up. You’ve gotta keep going. You’ve gotta move on.”
“Oscar Wilde once wrote, 'advice is for giving, not taking'… or something like that.”
“Well, if your advice was good enough for me, and it was, then it’s good enough for you, G. There’s a lotta peeps depending on you.”
“Are you depending on me? That’s what really matters.”
“Yes, I am, G. Are you gonna let me down? You never have before.”
“You’re right. I would never let you down; not in a million years. OK, mate. When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Right? I’ll give it my best shot.”
“And don’t forget; if you’re feeling a bit lonely or depressed or whatever, you can always chat to me on the MrB My Best Friend Page. So don’t feel like you’re never gonna connect with me again. OK? It’s like Steve says, The Codeman is the Never Ending Story.”
“OK.”
“And tell everyone thanks for all the cool things they’ve said about me; and Steve for those totally fucking wicked graphics he does for MrB, and keeping my site alive; and Dave for getting Cody’s World together again and hosting it; and Greg for that awesome Cody Tribute Movie. That was soooo totally outasight. And June and Jason, and Jim0thy, and everyone else who’s written cool stuff. Hey, I gotta beetle. Loveya tons, G.”
“Cya, Code. You really are One Awesome Dude.”
“And you’re an Awesome Old Dude. :) Cya, G.”
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