“Check… one, two… check!”
I strummed a couple of chords. The sound was perfect, as far as I could tell. Giddeon went up to his mike.
“Helllllooo, Los Angeles! Are you ready to rock, tonight?” He stepped on a pedal, and the synthesized sound of crowd response filled the air, almost deafening us. He grinned, and said to me, “Got to get the whole experience.”
Then, I hit a sustained ‘D’ and started a count.
“One, two… one, two, three, four!”
I've been thinking about this universe,
Ev’ry time I've got some time.
Why does it just confuse me worse,
like a poem without a rhyme?
All those quantum theories,
psychedelic Timothy Learys
on Icarus wings.
And, even Uncle Albert,
is all broken-up about those
super-strings.
And, all of the King's horses and men…
couldn't put him back together again,
together again, together again…
Here, an instrumental chorus ensued. Giddeon, the synthesizer and the drum machine did an unbelievable job. Then, the vocals continued:
Always I try to unify, forces in my mind,
They don’t seem to gel, I say what the hell,
I had good intentions, 26 dimensions
All I see is blue, when I think of you…
I hear Superstrings!
Again, an instrumental. Afterwards, the song carried on with speed and force:
And, I’ve been thinking about this universe,
every time I’ve got some time.
Why does it just confuse me worse?
It’s almost like a crime.
All those quantum theories,
psychedelic Timothy Learys
on Icarus wings.
And even Uncle Albert,
is all broken-up about those
super-strings.
And, all of the King's horses and men…
couldn't put him back together again,
together again, together again
Another instrumental took over for the better part of 30 seconds. Finally, the music slowed to its conclusion, just vocals and acoustic guitar:
And, I’ve been thinking about this universe,
every time I’ve got some time.
Every time I’ve got… some time.
Gid stepped on the pedal and applause grew. I knew it wasn’t real, but, still, it made me smile. After an appropriate amount of time, Giddeon ripped into a song I had never heard, yet was still able to play… thanks to a teleprompter that appeared with chords and lyrics scrolling past. It was fast paced and full of chopped strumming. Very cool:
I know a little club,
sometimes I go there late at night.
I like the atmosphere…
it’s kind of strange, but, so right.
Once upon a time,
it might have been called groovy.
Once upon a time, the cat’s meow.
Once upon a time’s anachronistic movie.
Once upon a time, is now.
That’s why I go there…
That’s why I go there…
That’s why I go there…
Late at night.
And, how many times have you said to yourself,
‘My life’s so ordinary…
my life’s so on the shelf.’?
How many times have you tried to run away…
but, you just stay at home,
day after day, after day, after day?
That’s why I go there…
That’s why I go there…
Late at night.
You wanna know what that place is like? Yeah?
It’s like George Jetson, moved to Casablanca,
to smoke a water-pipe and have some fun.
It’s like Elvis Presley, sequencing the genome,
of a brand-new vampire for the sun.
That’s why I go there…
That’s why I go there!
And, how many times have you said to yourself,
‘My life’s so ordinary… my life’s a living hell.’?
How many times have you tried to run away…
but, this world just catches up, day after day,
after day, after day, after day?
That’s why I go there…
That’s why I go there…
That’s why I go there…,
That’s why I go there…
Late at night… Oh, yeah!
__________
We played for the better part of three hours. One nice thing about being in a coma was that we didn’t have to break down the equiment after the show. A flash of light, and I was back home in my boat. Boris looked up from the bed with sleepy eyes, and then put his head back down on my pillow. I drank a beer and watched him sleep for a very long time.
__________
That night, I dreamed of Melody, again.
We were on the stage of The Greek Amphitheatre, alone, underneath a spotlight. She had on a white dress, white stockings and ballet shoes; a sheer veil covered her face. Music began to play. I walked up to her, and I was also wearing white. Upon my body was a form-fitting suit much like the dancers had worn that night on Eden. I pulled the veil back over her head and let it gently drape down around her shoulders.
We kissed, and it was the most sensual meeting of flesh I had ever experienced.
I felt somehow different, more muscular and graceful. I held out my arm, and she reached over with the most fluid motion imaginable and grasped my hand. We began to dance, smooth and refined, flowing with the transcendent composition of sounds and joined with the music. She was grace personified, revolving and moving to the rhythm like liquid silk; spinning slowly away from me and then back in so very close. Bending low, and extending one leg to the sky in that impossible pose of expert ballerinas. Her eyes were locked on mine, and I moved like Nureyev beside her.
It was at the same time, both effortless and exciting. I leaped high into the air, landed softly, and then pirouetted with ease… even though I had never done anything like that before.
We followed an instinctual choreography, knowing exactly what to do in each and every second, almost reading each other’s minds as we danced a stunning, beautiful, dance. Her trust in me was complete, and I caught her perfectly each time when she leaped or fell or spun into my embrace. It was so romantic, so complete, that we both were crying as we danced… tears of joy, tears of gratitude.
When it was over, I lay on the stage under the spotlight. She was kneeling over me, cradling my head in her hands. I closed my eyes, wanting the moment to go on forever, and felt deep in my soul, that somehow, it would.
__________
I woke up next to her. She was weeping in her sleep. I kissed her lips, and made my way back home.
That time, without Giddeon’s help.
Chapter 60
Dreams are no substitute for real life, and finally, there came a day that I always knew would come if I stayed unconscious long enough.
Melody met someone.
He was a nice enough fellow. An ecologist that had been out of school and working with the state for a few years. I think his job involved monitoring the habitats of endangered birds, small mammals and reptiles for the Department of Parks and Recreation. He was 33 years old, wore little John Lennon wire-rimmed glasses, and had an affinity for Starbucks coffee. They met when she was doing an internship at one of the parks.
The first time I saw them holding hands, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I didn’t think I was the jealous type, but, apparently, I was wrong. It was like he was intruding on our territory, trespassing on sacred ground that belonged to us. I had to fight the tendency to dislike the guy, because he had done nothing wrong.
Still, I wasn’t fond of him… plus, I thought he was too old for her, even though he was only 7 years her senior. I ha
d trouble adjusting to this new reality and became more focused on somehow returning to the other side. It wasn’t that he was wrong for her… it’s that I was so right for her. How did I know, you might ask? With the help of Giddeon, I had seen it with my own eyes.
__________
We were one of those couples that made you think that they were in the first week or so of their relationship. Holding hands, looking tenderly at each other, nuzzling close when seated. Except, it had been almost four years. I had never been hit by the golf ball; I had even returned to school and finished my degree… turf management.
We lived in Arizona for a while during my studies, but had recently returned to San Diego. She and I had just gotten engaged and were planning a June wedding. Melody was as beautiful as ever, and I seemed to have changed into another person… responsible and happy. I still had the boat, however, we only stayed there on weekends. We were both gainfully employed and actually had enough money to start thinking about purchasing a small house in a weak real estate market. We shopped at farmer’s markets, and both took turns learning to cook new dishes in her condo. I would still sit and watch her paint; oftentimes, I would come up behind her and place my hands on her shoulders at the neckline as she worked. Sometimes, she would turn, give me a brilliant smile and tilt her head up for a kiss. Then, she would go back to her art. Boris and Samantha would sit on the couch, close to each other, waiting for treats or attention.
In another scenario, we were in Oregon… just temporarily for the summer. I was a journalist, and Melody was teaching summer school at the university. We were in our late thirties with two children… an eight year old boy, and a five year old girl. Thankfully, both of them looked like their mother. We spent our free time exploring the beauty of the region. Crater Lake and the coast. The mountains and the small towns. We had a small SUV with all of the amenities, including fold-down computer screens in the back to keep the kids entertained as we traveled.
She was a great mother; she looked at the children, and, also at me, with the same look of fascination and love that I recognized from our earlier ‘life’ in San Diego. Melody pretty much always had that reflection on her face… as if she appreciated each and every sight and each and every sound that came her way. It seemed like she just couldn’t wait to see what else the future had in store.
In yet another timeline, Melody was an artist and a part-time model. She was pregnant for the first time, and doing a maternity spread for a woman’s magazine. I would carry her to the shoots, taking time off from my job as an account manager at Charles Schwab. She looked lovely… I could see why they wanted her as their model. She was the perfect picture of a first-time mother-to-be. She would smile at me between shots, then wink playfully and blow kisses.
It was ridiculous. Every reality we sampled. Even the ones that had some type of hardship or tragedy involved… they were always the same. Together. Two people perfectly matched, fitting next to each other like two peas in whatever pod they found themselves. We hardly ever argued, and when we did, it was actually playful… we would always end up laughing and hugging as we came to some kind of amicable resolution.
Gid and I went through dozens of potentialities… time and time again they came out unbelievably positive. It occurred to me that maybe no matter who Melody was with, it would be a perfect union; so, I had him check. I didn’t have the heart to look.
He saw quite a few of her futures with her new boyfriend. It wasn’t the same. Some were good, but, nothing exceptional. Some were bad, ending in divorce and tears. It appeared pretty much to be a reflection of everyday statistics on marriage… about a 50/50 proposition. And, what percentage of the ones that do stay together can be considered happy? I don’t know the answer to that.
I became more and more convinced that we were not only a match made in heaven, but that our match was heaven. I had to get back… not only for me, but for her. It was simply the way things were meant to be.
It was destiny, but, destiny can be a hard road to find.
Chapter 61
I explored transcendental meditation, thinking that if I could alter my state of consciousness, I might kick start my brain on the other side. I took psychotropic drugs, trying to affect my alpha waves and alternate worlds… all in a search for the door to ‘reality’. I immersed myself in sensory deprivation tanks, and would spend hours concentrating on nothing but the rehabilitation room and my inert body as it atrophied in a white-sheeted bed.
Giddeon hypnotized me. I hypnotized myself. I would run to a state of exhaustion, looking for that jogger’s high. I thought maybe that that would effect a change and somehow help tip me over into my old world. It didn’t.
Nothing worked. Giddeon would check my vitals in the facility when our experiments were underway. My heart rate never changed, my breathing never quickened.
We went back into the recent past and looked over my records at the institution. We did find a few instances where my vitals had been altered, just the slightest amount, along with my brain waves. Giddeon and I correlated them to the times of strong emotional periods. Mainly, the changes had happened when I had dreamed of Melody… also, the alterations occurred when I found Boris that day on the side of the road.
It wasn’t much, but, at least it was something.
__________
As time went on, over there, I became desperate to get back to her because I found I was feeling more and more disconnected.
Almost a year went by where we shared no dreams.
__________
Giddeon fabricated memories for me, some sweet and tender, some horrific and jolting.
He tried to replicate and expound upon emotional states that had seemed to have had some effect on my comatose body in the past. Even when he did it without telling me, it only had minimal results… I think perhaps that was because he and I were becoming more and more united on a neuronal level. I could always tell, after the initial surprise, that it wasn’t the ‘real’ timeline… that it wasn’t the silver strand that shone so brightly amongst all of the others. I don’t really have any other way to describe it.
I just knew.
__________
This went on for months. Of course, we would take time to recharge… golfing and surfing, along with the occasional trips into time. However, other than the times after the coma began, I avoided the past… particularly anything to do with religion. I didn’t really want to know such history, especially after my experience with Daniel. I think there are some things that should remain a mystery.
That’s what faith is all about.
Also, I think I was afraid of changing things… upsetting some type of balance that would affect me meeting Melody on that sun-drenched afternoon. I just couldn’t take the chance, no matter how remote.
The future, however, was fair game.
Chapter 62
Giddeon came to me one day with an excited look on his face. I knew he had been somewhere, because it had been a day and a half since I had seen him. He plopped down beside me on the couch, and ran his fingers through his light brown locks.
“I found it!” he exclaimed.
I had been reading a medical journal about brain waves. Not just the action potentials generated by neurons, but the calcium flux in the glial cells supporting them. For decades, scientists had considered glial cells as just a matrix of building blocks whose job it was to insulate, nourish and defend the main players… but, it was looking more and more like they were involved in thought, creativity and memory. A lot of the research was being done here at UCSD. I looked up from the glossy pages in my hands.
“Found what?”
“The movie theatre of the future.” He looked very satisfied with himself.
“What do you mean?” I put the magazine down through Boris, who was on the couch beside me. My cat looked at me with a bit of annoyance, so I pushed the journal onto the floor at my feet. He seemed okay with that and put his head back down on his paws.
“The interface?
?? ‘There’s a revolution in my head’.” He sang the first part of that song we had written quite some time ago.
“Oh… are you sure?”
“Pretty sure… it’s waaaaay in the future. Further than I’ve ever been. Two galaxies over.” He pointed a thumb in the general direction, and I thought about that old book, ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’.
“Giddeon… are you sure it’s real? We’ve been through this before. Everything is amorphous, especially the further you get from the here and now. Do you think maybe you’re just finding what you want to find? You know… creating your own memories?”
“You tell me.”
There was a flash, and the longest tunnel of light, yet, surrounded us.
__________
We were in a room. I’m not sure if it was a house or a clinic of some type. The walls were made of metal or composite, I couldn’t really tell since the surfaces were so uniform; no angles were anywhere at the junctions of the floor, walls and ceiling. In the periphery around us there were no doors or windows, and four ‘people’ were on separate, silver, chair-like beds that were off to one side. The beings were small, between four and five feet in length, and naked, from what I could tell… there was nothing to help differentiate male from female in the pelvic regions. Their skin was smooth and pale, and they had no hair anywhere on their bodies… except for eyelashes, which, oddly, were long and luxurious. Their lower jaws were quite diminutive, and their lips had just the slightest blush of pink to them.
They appeared to be asleep.
On the creatures’ heads was a scattering of patches, sort of like those used for an EEG; three on each side for a total of six per cranium. I could see that the ‘people’ were breathing by the rise and fall of their level, nipple-less chests. I turned and whispered to Giddeon, using a low voice out of habit because they looked so peaceful,