The morning sun crept through the French doors and dragged me reluctantly toward wakefulness. Dee was already up, showered, and packing by the time I was finally crawling out of bed. I grabbed a quick shower as well and then joined her downstairs to begin our hike to the train station. We chatted as we walked, mostly about inconsequential things. The events of the previous night did not enter our conversation until we were on the train and well on our way.
“You did a good thing last night,” Dee commented as she stared idly out the window.
“Sure,” I responded, though my tone betrayed my skepticism.
Dee turned to me. “No, really, you saved a life. You’re a hero.”
It surprised me. I wasn’t even sure she had noticed the young police officer’s behavior, that she had come away with the same interpretation. “I didn’t do anything,” I insisted, “We can’t be sure of anything.”
“I don’t think you really believe that.” She reached over and squeezed my arm. “I could tell just by looking at you that something was going to happen. Something bad. I think you stopped it.”
I looked down at her hand. I thought about the strange journey I now found myself on. “Some part of me wants to believe that. Maybe some part already does, deep down. But sometimes what we believe is wrong. Everything might have gone down exactly the same last night if I wasn’t there. I can’t be sure of anything. I’m an engineer. I believe in science. I believe in empirical evidence. I start believing I have freaky mind powers… well, that’s a journey into madness.”
There. I said it. Unspoken was the implication that Dee was already well down that path.
Dee was silent for a long moment, then said, “It took me a long time to believe in my power. It wasn’t so long ago I still had doubts like you. But stack up enough anecdotes, at some point it starts to look like evidence.”
“The plural of anecdote…” I began.
“is not data,” she finished, “Yes I know, Barry, but at some point you have to trust your own life experience.”
“Maybe I just need more time then,” I answered, more to avoid an argument than anything else.
“Let’s hope so,” she replied, and gave my arm another gentle squeeze before turning her attention back to the window. I dug out my Theory of Computing notes and started in on homework. It was a quiet ride home.