The following week, Jim tried to keep himself busy. At work he kept his mind off the letters by throwing himself into whatever crazy thing Michael was doing, and at home… well, he tried to spend as much time away from home as possible. He didn’t want to be tempted to open the drawer early and risk the envelope not being there and ruining that drawer’s capability for communication. He sometimes thought he was being silly because certainly the envelope would have to be in there by now - Pam had over eighty years to make sure it was there. Still though, he kept his distance. He didn’t want to take any chances.
After one week had passed, Jim stood in front of the drawer, clutching a bottle of beer tightly in his hand. He quickly downed the contents of the bottle and placed it on the desk.
“Here goes nothing,” he said quietly.
He opened the drawer slowly and his heart flipped when he saw the corner of an envelope. He quickly pulled the drawer all the way open and his hand flew in after the envelope like a seagull diving for a scrap of food.
Anxious, he ripped open the envelope and read the letter.
March 23, 1924
Dear Jim,
If you are right (and I hope you are), I hope this reaches you. I think I like you already. You seem like you’d be the bee’s knees. I can relate to you because I think I’m just a woman who’s in love with love. I don’t know if there’s enough of it in my life, but I’m willing to believe that you could help bring a little more in. It’s just something in your letter. I can feel it. I know that sounds like a lot of bunk, but I promise it’s true. I don’t really believe in much, but I do believe in this. I don’t want to waste any of our chances. I’m afraid I’ll mess this up. Please promise me that no matter what I do, I can’t ruin this. I promise you that nothing you say or do can ruin this for me.
I think you sound very interesting. A little balled up, but very interesting all the same. I’m sorry. Do you know what balled up means? I can’t imagine the sort of things you’ll be saying in 2009. I think it’s probably better that you don’t tell me. I’d be scared of changing things on accident. Anyway, balled up is confused. You sound like a confused fella. But I’m confused too. So I guess we fit together. I don’t have a job. I used to help at my father’s store, but then he decided he didn’t like me down there in his business. I went to college. Nobody but me really thought it was a good idea (I wasn’t going to learn to be a teacher so no one understood why I’d want to go) but I really enjoyed it. Roy and my father were especially against it. I guess it’s the most daring thing I’ve ever done. I took a few art classes and it turns out I was the cat’s meow. Anyway, I don’t do much now. I paint for myself sometimes but mostly I just plan the wedding and little things. I think I’d rather sell paper.
I think you should try to be a writer. I don’t mean to sound like I’m telling you what to do, but I think you should take the chance. I think everybody should take a chance once in a while. I don’t take many myself, but that’s another story.
And I don’t think you should feel bad or anything about telling me about your date. I understand. When I got your letter, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I imagined what sort of man would be able to say those kind of things, what kind of fella would admit all that and let me look right into his heart. I’m not used to things like that. I liked it. I’ve been thinking of you a lot. It feels funny because I hardly know you at all, but I think if circumstances were different... well, I just mean to say that I think we’d have a chance. At what I don’t know, but I know we’d have one. That’s what I think about when I’ve been having bad days. I wonder what it would be like if I could meet you, what we would talk about and what we would do. Well, I feel like a real Dumb Dora for saying all that. I just feel like I can be honest with you, because where’s the harm?
(I also wish there could be a bit of harm because then that would mean our chance was more real...)
Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve taken up too much of your time or if this was a waste of a drawer, but I think I just needed to say all that to you. Something this wonderful and strange has never happened to me before.
With love,
Pamela Morgan Beesly
Jim sat down at the desk and couldn’t stop smiling. Something about her saying that they would have had a chance made him feel light and giddy. It was a bittersweet feeling, however, as realization sank deeply in. They were obviously cut from the same cloth, but what did it matter? She couldn’t travel forward in time any more than he could travel backward. Even so, thinking about her thinking of him made Jim feel a little better. If he got nothing else out of this crazy, wonderful experience, he had connected with someone. The only problem was that the only thing he would have to show for it were some pieces of paper. It wasn’t like he could tell anyone about it. Not even Dwight would believe him.
He stared down at one of the blank pieces of stationery paper, but his heart was too heavy for him to write. He wanted to say the perfect thing back to Pam to let her know how he felt, but all he could think of was this whole thing coming to an end.
While he was trying to think of what to say, a new idea popped into his head. He got up from the desk and went to the hall closet to retrieve a photo album. He flipped through it until he came across a photo of him that an ex-girlfriend had taken: he was standing in the courthouse square on a chilly winter morning, a big black jacket wrapped around him and a warm smile on his face. He took the photo from the album and placed it on the desk next to the blank piece of stationery paper.
He picked up the pen and began writing his reply.
Dear Pam,
I’ve been trying to think of the perfect things to say to you. I feel a connection with you even though we’ve never met. Believe me - nothing you can write can ruin what we have. I think this has gone beyond us being able to ruin it. I would say it’s a near-perfect situation (I’m sure you can figure out why it’s only near). I hope I can bring a little love into your life, even if it’s only through words. You’ve brought a lot into my life. I’m not used to this. But I believe in it. I believe we’ve got something honest here. I just wish we had more time (or maybe less of it between us). I’m glad you’re thinking about me.
I’m glad you think I’m interesting. I was worried I would bore you. Selling paper doesn’t really give you a lot of good stories to tell. My boss is sort of crazy, but I would need another eighty years just to talk about him and I don’t think that’s how I want to spend our time.
I’m glad you enjoyed college. For me the experience wasn’t exactly anything to write about, but I bet our experiences are completely different there. And probably with almost everything else too. Maybe the only thing we have in common is our feelings... but I think that’s okay. Even people I’ve known my whole life don’t understand the way I feel in the way that you seem to. I’ve been having a hard time trying to think of what to say to you. I feel like I need to say everything I’ve ever thought or felt in my entire life and then I feel like I could just say one sentence and you would understand. Even though I’d like to be a writer, I guess I have trouble with words.
Maybe we should each make a promise. I promise to take a chance and try to become a writer if you promise to take more chances in general (you said you don’t take enough - this will be your motivation!). Maybe you can do something with your art? It’s up to you. I just think if we’re going to change each other’s lives, we shouldn’t just sit around. Promise me that you won’t give up on anything that means something to you. I think if we both do that then it’ll be easier to think about each other. We’ll be happy. Maybe. I hope. I wish this had happened a little differently. I don’t think I’d mind living in 1924.
I think we would have had a chance, too.
I’ll check the drawer again in a week.
With love,
Jim Halpert
He tucked the letter and his photo into the envelope and sighed.
