by Nicole Wells
"And to those that think we are being unfair, we also have Janice Malcolm, who represents the Alliance for Compassionate Living, a group that is just one of many that we have seen materialized in response to this worldwide obsession. They are very supportive of these predictions because they consider them to promote their ideology, and in particular, are prominent proponents of Enya and her network.
"So, we've heard a bit from Enya herself about her visions. Dr. Andrews, let's start with you next. What do you think about these predictions?"
"I think that normally a little entertainment can be fun. Buyer beware, and if someone is hoodwinked, that's okay and bound to happen. Here, however, the results are not so benign. You have people believing these predictions. It is unfortunate timing, so soon after the pandemic. People are searching for hope or questioning their faith. People are desperate for a pick-me-up story. So Enya's story has spread like wildfire. But worldwide attention does not denote factuality. In this case, it merely reflects desperation.
“The fact of the matter is, you have here an example of someone who has no care for her future. She is disregarding the medical establishment, and as a result, there are people whose lives are literally in danger. That is something we can no longer humor.”
"Okay, I hear you, Dr. Andrews, but look at her. She is just a young lady, maybe a victim too, of the media that encourages her…"
Two sets of eyes, plus countless others, stare like they are trying to crack my armor. Except I have none. I smile at them and then turn to face Dr. Andrews directly.
“Dr. Andrews, can you please clarify, what did you mean by disregarding the medical establishment?”
“Your diagnosis of Huntington's. Your blatant disregard for your prognosis and the recommendations of your doctors.”
“Which recommendations?”
“Well, it is not recommended that you fantasize that you have psychic gifts to counterbalance a grim and unfortunate fate.”
“Who said my fate was unfortunate?”
“Yes! That is exactly what I mean!”
I perch my chin on my hand, drumming my fingers, contemplating him.
“I feel we are talking different languages, like having a conversation that doesn’t sync up. I think it would help if I take your perspective and go from there.” Without waiting for his approval, I nod to myself and continue, “I should be realistic about the future—” I look at him and wait. He slowly nods his head.
“I should be in an identifiable Kubler Ross stage.” He continues a reluctant nod.
"I should not be going on with my life? I should not be happy?" He pauses, consternation in his face, and he's about to object when I acquiesce, "Ok, that's not right then. Let me try a different track and see if I get this right. I cannot predict the future—" I again wait, and this time he nods vigorously, looking to the audience like he can't believe his luck that I just admitted that.
“I have managed to make accurate predictions so far, but that is just happenstance.”
“Yes!” He nods and opens his mouth to continue but I don’t let him go on.
“Like a placebo effect.” I smile at him and he leans back in the upholstered chair, crossing his arms and smiling, “Exactly.”
“A placebo effect. Like, presuming I have no malicious intentions, which I’d offer I do not...” here Janice smirks with an almost inaudible chuckle. She’s been surprisingly silent for how these types of shows usually go, but I understand. Dr. Andrews can be particularly fierce in front of the camera. I am not scared though. I gave up fear long ago.
"...and discounting luck for the majority of instances, I am probably using aspects of my subconscious. Access to information I didn't realize I had to make an informed decision that as a result has a good probability of being true."
Dr. Andrews claps, and he exchanges incredulous looks with the host. Before the hysteria spreads to the audience, I say, “If I may...”
I get a "By all means" gesture and continue, "So, very much like a placebo effect, which is the effect when something not theorized to work, something intentionally made to not affect, does. The placebo effect, which actually works more effectively than some of the medicines we use today. Isn't it true that up to half the effect of actual medicines is the placebo effect? And depending on the conditions, hasn't it been shown to have a cure rate between fifteen to over seventy percent, right?” I look from him to the audience.
“I don’t have intentions when I do my visions. I don’t have a plan. I have never promised that they will come true or that they are accurate. I am not a fake or a hoax." I've spread my arms out, palms up, in an unspoken plea.
“But maybe what I do is a placebo for trances. I might be using my mind to make things happen that shouldn’t. I might be accessing parts of me that I am unaware of. I call it a gift. You can call it what you want.” My eyes turn back to my former doctor.
“I’m not in opposition with you, Dr. Andrews. I’m in agreement.”
Janice jumps to her feet, applauding. I hear a larger roar from the audience. I almost want to tell Dr. Andrews I'm sorry, because he has given me the opportunity for the wildfire to catch even more. Almost, but I don't. I'm not that crazy.
chapter 36
JACOB ENGULFS ME in a hug as I come off the stage. He immediately goes into his protector mode, whisking me away from the crowds and into a waiting car. I had meant to meet and get to know Janice a bit, and anyone else who made the trip out to see me, but Jacob is protective of my time and energy as well as my person.
We head home to our house in Burbank, the same one I saw in a vision once, what feels like a lifetime ago. I am lucky to feel I have lived many lives, and that I have found peace and happiness in all of them.
Like that vision, I have become a darling to the Hollywood elite. This is part of the reason I've been in the spotlight, and that so many look upon me favorably. Most of the media like my story, although Jacob would say they like me and my presence. I've interacted with movie stars, pop singers, famous directors, popular athletes, and other celebrities, just being myself. I’m lucky that this affords me the financial opportunity to help out others, especially the Native American communities.
Jacob divides his time between medical research and helping the Native American communities and other indigenous peoples throughout the world when he's not with me. And oftentimes, we visit the communities together.
He's with me a lot since we got married three years ago. It's been amazing living, learning, and loving with my best friend. My better half. I glance over at him, feeling that magnetic pull again. It's amazing when I live in the present moment, how much I can see him anew and just fall in love again.
And it's amazing when you truly let the love in, how you see it and find it everywhere. How it self propagates. My world is a joyous place. That doesn't mean that bad things don't happen, and it doesn't mean my diagnosis has changed. It just means that I choose happiness.
I choose love. It's like Jacob had said. What if every moment was a choice? Full stop. No past, no future, just this moment, and I have the power of a choice.
—— ——
“MOM, IT’S FINE. We’re fine. You’re fine. It’s really no big deal,” I say as I scroll through my email. I get so many emails these days, I wish I could answer them all.
“Are you sure I’m not imposing?”
“Jacob and I would be offended if you didn’t stay with us. I know you’ll be missing Alex, so we’ll have lots of girl time. I was thinking a spa day, a movie night and at least one day at the gardens.”
“Ooh, that sounds lovely. But I know you’re busy running your business and everything. You know I’m just happy to see you, whatever we do. Alex really is sorry he can’t make it this time.”
“No worries. I know he’s got a lot of work and it's a long trip to come out here. Hey, did you get that homeopathic I sent you for jet lag?”
“Yes, thank you. I was looking at the ingredients, though, and I was confused.
There are different numbers?”
“Yup. That's called the potency. It shows how diluted it is. In homeopathy, the more dilute it is, the more powerful it is. Because it's all about the energy signature. So don’t eat anything strong tasting or chew mint gum after you take it.”
“Got it. Oh, Alex just got home.” She rushes her next few words, “Ok, I’ll email you my flight info. Say ‘Hi’ to Jacob for me. Love you!”
“Love ya.” I love that my mom still sounds like a giddy newlywed. Of course, I do too.
I’ve still got a few minutes before my next client, and I’d rather spend it with Yasmin than answering emails.
“Hey, girl,” I say when she answers.
“Thank you! I needed to take a break but wouldn’t allow myself.” She sounds both relieved and exhausted.
Now I feel bad, “You didn’t have to answer the phone.” I know she’s pushing hard to finish her Masters. She’s like a woman possessed ever since she got bitten by the journalism bug. It suits her though — the drive, her passion for equality and justice, her love of travel, even her independent ways. She even manages to do some reporter gigs while she studies.
“No, didn’t you hear me? I needed a break. And if you didn't call, I would have kept at it until I finally broke down and turned on the TV. Then, I’d be mindlessly watching the news, which is a hopeless irony I want to avoid. So, what's up?”
“Nothing, just wanted to reach out. I love that piece you posted about the girls in Somalia, by the way.” I am really busy with my business, an extension of my dream of healing and helping, but I always find time to check-in with her.
“Thanks. I finally got around to putting the footage together. Can you believe it’s been six months since that trip? Hey, did you think anymore about Istanbul?” In addition to the journalism bug, she's got a severe travel itch. We’ve done a few trips together already during her breaks.
“Jacob’s not sure. He’s been really reluctant to commit. It's a scheduling thing, I think.”
“He’s got time.”
“He’s kinda like you in that way. He’s been really driven, putting in a lot of hours in the lab.”
“Ever the mad scientist. I think I can relate. Be sure to cut him some slack. Sometimes you have this vision, you know, and you’re just hell-bent on making it happen.”
“Oh, I know all about visions! And we’re good. We still get each other. When he’s with me, he’s one hundred percent with me. We’re present to each other.”
“He’s been handling your fame, being a bodyguard on the side, and burning the midnight oil. You guys totally need to get away. If you don’t come to Istanbul, go somewhere for a little vacation.”
“You know, it's funny. Even with all the work, all the lifestyle changes and the loss of some privacy, everyday still feels like a vacation.”
“I guess that’s SoCal for you!”
“Honestly, Yasmin, I think it’s the spirituality. There’s no need to get away.” I pause and realize, “But I do need to go. Call or text me if you need another break, okay?”
“Oooh, is it anyone I know? Anyone famous?”
“You know I’m not going to tell you that. And they’re all equally famous to me. They’re all stars in their own right.”
“Okay, Enya. But if one of the stars is, like, a supernova, as your best friend, I think I have a right to know before I read about it.”
“You have oddly loose confidentiality scruples for a journalist. Talk to you later, ‘kay?”
“Say ‘Hi’ to Jacob for me. And give him an extra hug for working so hard.”
“I will, and try not to work too hard yourself. Love ya, ‘bye.” I hang up just in time for my next client, a high profile pop star people are calling the next Aurora.
—— ——
“IT’S FUNNY, PEOPLE ASSOCIATE YOUR NAME with psychic powers, but really, it’s just your talking that affects people. Like, people flock to you just to hear what you have to say.” I honestly don't think it's my words, but I keep that to myself.
Gary is sipping champagne and philosophizing. I forget what Hollywood event we are commemorating — a new release?
“I’m just being me.”
"Exactly! Seriously, let me have a crew follow you around. Catch the things you say. You don't blog or do social media or anything. You're just one person talking to individual people. Do you know how much more impact you would have if you let me record you? Millions! Millions of people, Enya. Seriously. You should seriously consider it. Jacob, this is her calling, right? Don't you think she should take it to the next level?"
We are sitting on a tufted red sofa, tucked into each other. Jacob’s arm around my shoulders tightens in an imitation of a hug as he responds, “She only ever has to be the spark, Gary. No one person can carry the whole flame.” He’s looking into my eyes, and it feels like I’m drowning. Here, in his love, it's timeless. He keeps me anchored to the present.
Gary looks like he's contemplating a reality show for Jacob when my manager who is also my associate, Karla, sits down beside me, still texting on her phone. "I just confirmed we're on for that late-night show tomorrow. Hi, Jacob," I wait until she looks up.
"Thank you," I tell her sincerely.
She looks nonplussed. “It's my job.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to do it like you do it. You put your whole being into our business. I see that and appreciate that. So, thank you.”
Now she does look taken aback, and Gary jumps in, “Enya, do I have permission to interview your employees? And the people around you? We could do it like in third person, capture people's experiences of you, their recollections of your idioms. It would be like a documentary instead of a series. Very classy and respectful.”
“Gary, contrary to popular belief, there is no network, no powerhouse that fuels interest in me. What you see right here is what you get. I do most of the work.”
“Hmm.” He stares at me over the edge of his now empty champagne glass, which he then puts down. I can tell he wants to continue his pitch.
“Don’t reach for it, don't grab it. Let it come to you. Your art, your inspiration. Trust in your muse. It’ll happen. And it’ll happen easier if you stand back and let it flow. Don’t force it. Don’t get so attached to the outcome.” He looks like he wants to record what I just said, or at the very least jot it down, but as my words sink in he resists the temptation.
I turn back to Karla, “The taping starts at 3 right?”
"Yup" she confirms, and we finalize details about my attire, what she thinks I should say, what she thinks I should not say, and other plans for the show. She's preoccupied with the factions of people that denounce me. Or the scientists, constantly reaching out to her, who think something valid is occurring and populate the world with their theories, and I'm the flag in their tug of war denoting who wins.
I chose peace, in every moment. She doesn’t believe me when I say it's fine, because in her world it isn’t. But that’s okay. When the glass shatters and the illusion breaks, you can never go back, but I still understand what it's like to think the mirror is all there is.
chapter 37
THE VISIONS THESE DAYS can be memories as much as premonitions. Time is funny like that. When you're in the middle, it's stretched out and zoomed in so it feels like a long line. At the ends though, it folds back onto itself, and the circle is revealed.
Time is endless.
The turtle comes to me. It is my eighth day of fasting. I am overwhelmed with honor, to be chosen. I feel the weight of this ancient spirit's regard. And then I am pressed with sights. A girl about my age, myself trained by our Elders, our Elders part of a network, glowing lines and even brighter nodes. The vision zooms out, dizzying and disorienting.
I remember it in this moment, just as fresh as it was all those years ago at the beginning. I can see the curve of the circle now, a prediction circling back to its end.
—— ——
JACOB AND I SLEEP IN THE NEXT MORN
ING, enjoying a lazy day together. We have a rhythm to just be with each other, and treasure the moments. A shift happened once the jubilation of the newlywed phase waned. We found other things were just not as important as our time together, and other commitments and "have-to"s fell away. By mutual accord, we are together, even during the doldrums of everyday life, and we stay together, not rushing the moment into the next. You'd think that would make us late for things, or that we wouldn't get things done, but it's surprisingly quite the opposite. When we're just being with each other, our minds are free. If something important needs remembering or doing, we simply take care of it. In the present moment together, we don't run late, because we are present, aware, and noticing things.
So this morning, we make a breakfast of pancakes together. Well, he's got griddle duty and I do the rest. I have the windows open — it looks to be another beautiful SoCal day. He has the TV on, which tells me he's thinking of going surfing because he only turns it on in the morning to hear the surf report. Yup, my boy has taken up surfing in addition to rock climbing. I've lost the right to call him 'dork' anymore. Secretly, I think he’s blossomed into something quite beautiful too.
My ears catch my name from the background noise.
“...Scientists are still confounded, but this certainly sheds light on the mystery. It seems much less likely this is some form of psychiatric grandiosity and an actual mutation.”
"I'm proud of you," I tell Jacob as I get plates down from the cupboard.
"It's not peer-reviewed, so it hasn't been taken up by the scientific community yet, but it seems the mainstream media approve," Jacob says modestly while I set the table.
We've got an open layout so all the sounds transfer and our conversation carries from the kitchen to our eating nook. My ears sift through the mishmash of nature and cooking sounds to hear more from the newscaster.