The Ontological Difference

 I struggled to process what I just heard.

“My landlady died?” I confusedly asked. “I thought you were my landlady.”

“Of course I’m not. That was Maria. You must have met her. She said she was going to introduce herself shortly after you arrived, ” the international coordinator said frankly.

“No, she never did,” I replied. Was I just out that day when she came? Why didn’t she just call me then?

“That’s odd. Never mind that now. Here’s the situation. Maria was in a terrible traffic accident a couple days ago and sadly passed away. Her funeral is scheduled this afternoon in about four hours. I was planning on attending and giving a eulogy, but an extremely vital meeting got pushed to that time. I can’t make the service, so I volunteered you to handle everything in my stead.”

“That’s the opposite of volunteering! That’s coercion! You’re violating my natural rights!”

“Her name was Maria Stephanopoulos. You can find her obituary online in the Miklagardian Times. Just say something nice, and I’ll be in your debt. I have to go. The meetings never end.”

“Wait!”

My cries were of no use. She hung up on me. I sat dumbfounded for a few minutes before coming to my senses. This was completely ridiculous. I’ll skip it and say I was sick. There’s no good reason for me to waste my afternoon on this.

Suddenly, the phone rang again. That woman must have called back. I was deadset on chewing her out when I answered, but I was surprised by the voice on the other side.

“Hey-ho, bucko! Guess who it is!” a spunky voice exclaimed.

“Melissa?” I dazedly asked. “How did you get my number?”

“Information travels fast here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Anywho, I managed to talk with Nika, and I’m pretty sure I smoothed things over between the two of you, so you don’t have to worry about misunderstandings.”

“Seriously? That’s awesome! I definitely owe you one.”

“Ah, it was nothing! Nika actually mentioned she wanted to ask you something the next time you see her.”

“Really?” More good news for me then.

“Yup. We’re all going to be at Maria’s funeral later today, so we’ll see you then.”

“You knew Maria?”

“Everyone knew Maria. It was shocking to hear what happened. We’re all devastated. She was so nice to everyone, which made her super popular. The church is going to be packed today.”

That. That is not good.

“We heard you’re giving the eulogy. You’re a really good guy for doing that. Me personally? I’d be terrified of speaking in front of so many people. You know, when I saw you for the first time, I realized you had good character, and I’m glad to say I was right. I’ve got a good intuition when it comes to these sorts of things.”

“As good as your gambling?”

“You catch on quick! I knew you were smart too!”

For her sake, I hope she never learns about the concept of lootboxes.

“So yeah, we’ll catch you after the service! See you soon,” Melissa said as she hung up.

Damn! Now I had to go. Even worse, I had to write a eulogy for a person I had never met in only a couple of hours. There was one possible path I could take now. I dashed into my room.

“Lacey!” I screamed. Her avatar popped up on my laptop screen.

“What’s happening? Did the aliens finally invade?” she worriedly asked.

“Even worse! I need you to write a eulogy for the landlord of this building. Her name is Maria Stephanopoulos. Her obituary is in the today’s edition of the Miklagardian Times. I need you to scrape that and anything else you can find about her and write something for me to say at her funeral. Got it?”
“Aye, aye, sir!” Lacey replied with a salute.

I had no idea where she was learning these mannerisms, but that was the least of my concerns. I jumped in the shower and scrambled to get ready, ironing the nicest clothes I had on hand. By the time I was dressed, Lacey had finished composing my speech. My phone may have been rendered mostly useless without cellular data, but I could still upload Lacey’s program to it in an app, along with directions to the church. My fingers were crossed that I could at least read the map correctly this time.

I made my way to the church about an hour and a half before I needed to show up. It was only a twenty minute walk from my lodgings, but I had to compensate for the fact that I’d inevitably lose my sense of direction. And I did, multiple times in fact. Somehow I managed to stumble my way through the streets and arrived at the church with seconds to spare.

As I stepped into the interior of the cathedral, I got the impression that I entered some otherworldly dimension. The number of times I had been in a church was in the low single digits, but this wasn’t like any of the ones I had seen before. Oddly enough, the Miklagardian Institute of Technology was the closest reference I had, but even that paled in comparison to this. For one, the dome was much grander, and it almost appeared as if it was floating above me rather than being supported. On the surface of the dome was a mosaic of Christ looking down at the church. It made me uneasy, and I tried to block out of my mind. The walls themselves were covered with intricate tesserae to create stained glass windows featuring various saints and religious iconography. They were illuminated by the light peering in through the narrow arched windows high above the ground, giving them and the polished marble a soft glow that had a mystical effect on the atmosphere. The smell of incense permeated the church. Up near the altar was an assortment of icons that separated the pews from the altar.

I hesitantly made my way further in to meet my priest. He showed me the side entrance I’d use to come out in front of the mourners when I had to deliver the eulogy, which would be about an hour into the service. I only had to sit in the back until then. Someone would come to grab me when it was time, which suited me just fine.

A short while after I sat down, people began pouring into the church. Melissa was right. It was going to be jam-packed. I saw Nika and the others enter, but I don’t think they saw me. In lieu of their usual uniforms, they wore simple, dark-colored dresses. It was minimalistic, but it struck me as looking quite elegant. It would have been rude to get their attention at this time anyway. Instead, I simply tracked where they were sitting and kept an eye on them. They all were chatting and bickering as usual until the service started.

The priest came out and started the funeral mass. It suddenly occurred to me that I had no memories of attending a church funeral. I knew plenty of people who died, but I couldn't remember ever attending one at a church. At most, I’d go to a crematorium where the remembrance was being held. I tried to mimic everyone’s behavior as best as I could. I’m not sure when it was exactly, but during one of the prayers I suddenly had a revelation. I thought these people were going through the motions like me to pay their respects, but the more I studied them, the more I came to a startling realization.

These people actually believed. They were taking this seriously. I gazed across the room. This was a veritable cross-section of society. People from all walks of life gathered here, and they were all engaged in deep prayer. I quickly snapped my attention back to the girls. Nika was fervently praying. That didn’t surprise me. Neither did seeing Tatiana doing the same. However, when I caught Io and even Melissa looking like they were genuinely participating as well, something inside of me felt like it was defeated.

I didn’t mind that kind of faith, to be clear. As long as it didn’t affect my life, I didn't care. What did concern me was the growing gulf I felt between us. A horrible realization finally dawned on me. I would never be able to understand these people. Nika. Melissa. Tatiana and Io. Miklagardia as a whole. I would never be able to communicate with them. Any kind of genuine relationship between us was unthinkable. Our ways of life were simply too different. Activities like prayer were completely beyond my ken, and that was a basic practice. How would I be able to deal with even deeper differences in our ways of thinking? No, it was no use.

I had always thought that people were alike all over. They may speak different languages, eat different food, have different rituals, but ultimately, I was convinced we were all the same. Because of that, I was convinced we could make genuine progress.

It was easy to think that. The Internet lets us access any information we want to know with a few keystrokes. Smartphones connect us to anyone from anywhere in the world with ease from the convenience of a small brick in our pockets. Translation applications can now cross linguistic barriers almost instantaneously. I was sure that with these technological innovations, no one would be ultimately lost. Human beings would eventually all be on the same page and could live together in peace.

But now I see I was completely wrong. It was foolish to even pretend otherwise. After all, people can speak the same language and still not understand one another.

A tap on my shoulder broke me out of my nightmarish reverie. The usher had come to pick me up. It was time to deliver the eulogy. It was time to do or die.