—What I still don’t understand is why you keep saying we had to cross —Luna said.
—Because we had to cross.
—That argument has improved enormously since the last time.
—Thank you.
—It wasn’t a compliment.
Sol took a sip of his coffee.
—Our job was to find out what was going on with that door.
—Our job was to investigate the door.
—That’s what I said.
—No. You said we had to go through it. Those are two different things.
—And how exactly were you planning to find out what was on the other side?
Luna remained silent for a few seconds.
—I don’t know.
—Ah.
—What?
—Nothing. I like it when we get to this part.
—What part?
—The part where it turns out my bad idea was the only idea we had.
—Not having a better alternative doesn’t turn a bad idea into a good one.
Sol slowly set his cup down on the saucer.
—That sounded pretty good.
—Because it’s true.
—Not necessarily.
—Something wasn’t right, Sol. We saw that before we crossed.
—Exactly.
—Exactly what?
—That there was something to investigate.
—From this side of the door.
—And what if we couldn’t figure it out from this side?
—Then you find another way.
—Which one?
Luna fell silent again.
Sol smiled.
—Once again, we’ve reached my favorite part.
—Just because I didn’t know how to do it doesn’t mean we should have walked through a door that was doing something no door should ever do.
—Well, technically, it was still a door.
—Sol.
—It had a frame.
—Sol.
—Hinges.
—You know perfectly well what I mean.
—And you know perfectly well what I mean.
Luna sighed.
—We could have died.
—But we didn’t.
—That doesn’t prove it was a good decision.
—It proves it wasn’t that bad.
—No. It proves we survived it.
Sol seemed to consider the difference.
—I think you’re being unfair to the outcome.
—And I think you’re using the outcome to justify the decision.
—What else are outcomes for?
—For learning.
—That’s what I’m doing.
—No. You’re learning that because it worked out this time, next time you can do exactly the same stupid thing again.
—Then I’m learning something.
Luna looked at him.
Sol smiled.
—That was a joke.
—I’m not entirely sure.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Sol looked out the window.
—So, what would you have done?
Luna slowly stirred the spoon in her cup.
—I don’t know.
—But you wouldn’t have crossed.
—Not immediately.
—How long would you have waited?
—Until I understood better what was happening.
—And what if you had to cross in order to understand it?
Luna stopped stirring.
Sol continued:
—That’s the problem. There are things you can investigate from the outside. You can observe them, measure them, think them over for weeks…
—You don’t think anything over for weeks.
—I’m talking about you.
—Oh.
—But maybe there are things you can’t understand until you step inside them.
Luna looked up.
—And maybe there are things that, once you step inside, it’s already too late to get out.
This time, Sol was the one who remained silent.
—That too —he finally admitted.
Luna smiled slightly.
—Look at that. You learned something.
—Don’t get used to it.
The conversation stopped.
Two empty cups remained on the table.
Sol raised his hand.
—Could we have the bill, please?
A few moments later, the bill was placed between them.
Sol opened it.
Looked inside.
Then looked at Luna.
—Do you have any change?
“Looks like someone’s going to have to pay for the coffee.”
