Seven Sides of Self

by Nancy Joie Wilkie

  “That’s true,” I answered, wondering if my queries had been that obvious. “It just seemed like one question led to another and before I knew it—”

  “Oh, it’s okay. I’m not upset. In fact, I am amused someone would be so curious about me.” A hint of a smile seemed to cross his face.

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s start at the beginning. Your name, Aura Verte—assuming that is your name—tell me more about that. Is it French?”

  The Microwave Man smiled again. “It is my name. And not your run-of-the-mill name, is it? I’m afraid you would have to ask my parents why they chose it for me. But—as you may have concluded—it does mean ‘gold green.’”

  “And where are you from?”

  “Nowhere around here. My parents were from Aurillia.”

  “Aurillia? I’m not familiar with it.”

  “Like I said, it is nowhere around here.”

  I didn’t feel like I was making much progress.

  “And how long have you lived in Ordonsville? The records at the courthouse would seem to suggest you have been here for as long as the records go back.”

  “You are correct. But the older records likely refer to my father. He had the same name. My parents … they … arrived here many years ago.”

  There was something about the way Aura uttered the phrase “arrived here” that sounded a bit out of place. I decided to ask the question I started to ask at the end of my last visit here.

  “Last week I asked you what it was you did with the old microwave devices you collect.”

  “Ah, yes,” he answered. “How shall we say—I am building something. I disassemble the old microwave ovens—and cellular phones—and use certain parts for my … project.”

  I wonder if this has anything to do with the satellite dish I saw.

  “Several days ago, I took a hike—climbed up to the overlook, Boswell’s Bluff. Beautiful up there—quite a view of the countryside.” I thought I would see if I might get Aura to offer up something without asking the real question.

  “Yes, it is. I have made the hike before.” No further commentary followed his statement.

  “I’m reasonably certain you can guess one of the things I saw while I was up there? That being the large satellite dish in your backyard?”

  Still no response.

  “I couldn’t help but notice the dish was aimed at the large microwave tower sitting up on the next ridge. I’m just curious about what you do with the dish.”

  A minute passed with the two of us looking at one another.

  “Come back again tomorrow,” said Aura. “I think you will get the answers you are looking for.”

  Aura then stood up and walked out of the room.

  Once again, I found myself not quite certain what to do, so I got up, gathered my things, and left. Back out on the street, I decided to return to the library and its access to the Internet. I looked at my watch. Three fifteen. Still time to get there before it closed at four o’clock.

  Walking briskly, I completed the crosstown trek within fifteen minutes. I gave a quick wave to the librarian and headed straight back to the computer table. No one was using it—praise Jesus. The machine was already on and the search application was on the screen. I typed in the word Aurillia.

  Nothing. Somehow I was not surprised.

  Next, I tried searching for Aurillia on various map software applications.

  Still nothing.

  Just exactly where is this Aurillia, anyway?

  I sat there and thought for a few minutes, but couldn’t come up with any other searches. So, I picked up my backpack, gave a farewell nod to the librarian, and headed back to the B&B. I wasn’t sure what to make of what I had learned from Aura and wasn’t sure what my next move should be—except, of course, tomorrow’s visit to the Microwave Man. Perhaps a good night’s sleep might help clear my thoughts.

  I went to bed a little after eleven o’clock. The soft sheets and the cool night air made it easy to fall asleep. While I was off in dreamland, something very strange happened. A flash of extremely intense light filled the room and woke me up. It was so blinding that even with my eyes closed, I found myself instinctively raising my hand to shield my eyes. And an instant later, it was gone.

  I looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was blinking on and off. The time was 2:27 A.M. The fact that the display was blinking suggested the power had gone off—presumably at the same instant as the brilliant flash of light.

  I laid my head back down on the pillow and wondered if the incident had actually happened—or had I just been dreaming? I’m not sure what resolution I came to because I quickly fell back asleep.

  The next morning I woke up to find the clock still blinking. So I knew that at least part of what I remembered had really happened. But the light? I wasn’t sure about that.

  When I went down for breakfast, I asked the innkeeper whether she had experienced anything unusual during the night. While she did confirm the power had been off for a brief moment, she didn’t report anything about the bright flash of light.

  By the end of breakfast, I came to the conclusion my next visit to Aura couldn’t wait until the afternoon. My gut told me Aura was somehow connected to the night’s unusual occurrences. It was time for some answers.

  I stepped down from the front porch of the B&B. A strange stillness had descended upon the town. The now familiar neighborhood street seemed devoid of chirping birds and the rustle of leaves I had heard on previous walks. Something has happened, I told myself.

  I rounded the corner and headed up to Aura’s home. This time I didn’t hesitate to open the front door and walk in. No one was in the front room. I quickly noticed the curious radiance coming from the walls gone. I looked up at the picture hanging at the center of the rear wall—its mystical allure also gone. It was now just a painting of a seashore scene, one you might see in the waiting room of a doctor’s office.

  “Aura?” I called out.

  No response.

  “Aura,” I said in a louder voice.

  Again, no response.

  I ducked under the break in the customer service counter and headed for the door leading to the back room. It was slightly ajar. As I pushed it open, I was amazed at what I saw. There were shelves from floor to ceiling all around the entire room. On every shelf was a piece of electronic equipment and wires running every which way, connecting the pieces of equipment to one another. In the center of the room was a wooden table with more equipment stacked underneath it and wires running up to a computer situated on its surface.

  All of the lights in all of the panels, however, were dark, and the computer screen was blank. It was then I noticed a single sheet of paper sitting on top of the computer keyboard. In very neat handwriting was a note that read:

  Dear Friend—

  By now, you have figured out Aurillia is not a place on this Earth, but rather is a place far, far away. My parents came from there many years ago. My whole life I have been dreaming about how to find my way to the place they called home.

  And by now, you have probably realized the antenna behind my home is not for receiving signals, but is for sending them. I have been collecting parts and pieces of equipment to use in the building of a giant radio of sorts—one that permitted me to send a signal to those who have come looking for me. As I write this note, I know that my people will be coming for me soon and will be taking me home—home to a place I have never been.

  Know that regardless of where we are from, we are all points of light, shining bright white deep within. One day, when your spirit releases its hold on your physical body, you will find your soul has the means to travel anywhere in this Universe—instantly. I hope you will pay a visit to Aurillia. You may have guessed the picture in the living room was of Aurillia—a place of gold-green seas and gentle beings.

  May the Eternal Light bless your days.

  Aura

  I walked outside with Aura’s note in my hand. I looked up at the sky, half expe
cting something to happen, some sign from Aura that he was up there—somewhere—looking down on me. It was then I realized the “Microwave Man” sign was gone. At least I had my answers. I now knew about the Microwave Man.

  Bon voyage, Aura.

  “Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day: we are not of the night, nor of darkness.”

  1 THESSALONIANS 5:5

  AN INTRICATE BALANCE

  (The Saint and The Sinner)

  “HOW CAN YOU BE SO sure?” interrogated Father Trallix, disturbed this strange woman was trying to convince him of something no one could possibly know for certain.

  “Trust me, Father, I know,” she said firmly. “Your life is in danger. Your faith is suffocating—that is, unless we correct the situation. We have the opportunity to do that here—now. But only if you accept what I’m about to tell you.” He looked more destitute than she had imagined.

  “We all die, my child. You’re telling me nothing I didn’t already know.” Trallix rubbed the stubble clinging to his unkempt chin. He studied her gracefulness and sensed a hint of urgency in the shadowy blue of her eyes. “Besides, I don’t fear death. I am quite prepared to die. As for my faith, what business is it of yours, anyway?”

  “I assure you, Father, I have more of a vested interest in whether you live or die than you might think. If you can spare some of your precious time, I’ll gladly expound upon why.” The accent told Trallix his unexpected guest had not been born into the more highly educated upper echelons of interstellar society.

  Trallix laughed with pained effort. His outburst reverberated off the chill walls of the castle that had served his order for over nine hundred years. “Hey, I’ve got no place to go. This wonderful asylum grants me all the time I want.”

  “All right, then.” Sister Othrosa Vella pulled up a wooden chair close to the recluse. She gathered the lower portion of her heavily starched habit and sat down. The late afternoon sun had made her sweat as she climbed the final steps to the ancient fortress. She felt the dampness against her back. She calmly folded her hands and closed her tired eyes. In the half-light of a solitary lamp, Trallix could see that she whispered a prayer. A moment later, she continued.

  “You and I are related. Not genetically, mind you. Not like a brother and sister. But spiritually. I know how this must sound, but our two souls are linked together by a bond I don’t fully comprehend myself.”

  “Soul mates!” Trallix snapped. “Right! I should be so lucky as to find a woman such as yourself!” He caught himself trying to imagine what his visitor might look like underneath the black robe. No doubt she exuded a certain enticing quality. Her cheekbones were higher than most women’s, her eyes more widely spaced. Thick dark eyebrows framed the top of her face—her jaw firm, her chin slightly pointed. She spoke with a deep, silky voice. Even though he couldn’t tell the color of her hair, he decided she must be a rather handsome woman.

  “No,” said Vella patiently. “We are not linked in a romantic sense, either. We’re like yin and yang—two sides of the same coin.”

  “This is nonsense!”

  “Let me be more precise. We are two counterweights on opposite sides of an intricate spiritual balance, you and me. According to the First Theorem of Spiritual Mechanics, a soul can appear spontaneously out of nothing provided a corresponding soul of equal and opposite presence appears at the exact same time.”

  “I’ve heard of such a theorem. It’s pure fantasy. Wishful thinking for academically idle minds. And even if true, you have no proof! And you call yourself one of the faithful! Ha!”

  “Then consider this. You and I are exactly the same age. True we were born on different planets, but we were born at the exact same instant in time. I’ve checked the archives. I have copies of the documents if you wish to see them.”

  “How did you ever come up with this absurd notion, anyway? And why did you drag me into it?”

  Vella patiently shook her head from side to side. “No. That’s not it at all. Now, if you’re quite done, I’ll answer your question.”

  “I’m listening,” said Trallix, holding his irritation in check.

  “I began studying on Vatican Prime under Mother Superior Aarthra ten years ago. She introduced me to spiritual mechanics, and I became completely enthralled with the subject. I spent every spare moment I could in the university library, reading every computer file and every ancient text on it. The more I read, the more I realized how limited the body of knowledge was and how many unanswered questions remained.

  “But the concept that fascinated me the most was the First Theorem of Spiritual Mechanics. Orgona Mannossa proposed it three centuries ago but was never able to test it—and how could one test it? There were a hundred billion people spread across a dozen worlds. It would be impossible to find two people who were born and who died at the exact same moments in time. And now, several hundred years later, there are over half a trillion people alive on almost fifty planets!

  “While it’s true the human population has continued to flourish, so has its technology. I decided that the vast resources of Vatican Prime just might give me the tools I needed to prove or disprove this theory. So I approached Mother Superior Aarthra with my plan.”

  “And what did the old windbag have to say? Did she think you a raving lunatic?”

  “Quite the contrary. She was intensely curious. She gave me access to everything I needed. I programmed the Vatican’s Unitronic Database to search for individuals who had been born at the exact same instant. What I found amazed me. There were billions of pairs of individuals. There were also an equally large number of unpaired names, but I attributed that to incomplete or corrupt information in the database.

  “Then one day, quite on a whim, I decided to check my own name and asked to see a list of all those who were born at the exact same moment as me. Not surprisingly, a rather large collection of names emerged.”

  “Then how did you determine that out of all those souls, mine was your ‘equal and opposite soul’?”

  “A legitimate question. Especially since there’s so much depending on me convincing you that we are a connected pair,” admitted Vella. She felt maybe, just maybe, Trallix was beginning to take her assertion seriously. “First, I asked the computer to eliminate individuals who had already died. That got rid of about half of the names. But then I became stumped. It wasn’t until days later when I had a major revelation.

  “There is a balance in the Spiritual Universe. Sages might refer to it as order and disorder, harmony and chaos. But I prefer to think of the fabric of the Spiritual Universe in terms of a kind of semitransparent mirror, like the surface of a large body of water—except without any shoreline. Below the surface, there is an infinitely deep ocean of pure water. Above, there is an equally infinite sky, crystal clear.

  “Think of our two souls in this very simple place. One soul swimming in the depths, the other floating through the sky. Both souls equally distant from the surface. And because the souls are equal and opposite, if the soul in the ocean falls to new depths, the other soul soars. The opposite is true, as well. If the one soul flies higher, the deeper the other must go.”

  “That’s rubbish! You expect me to believe any of this is true? You’re the crazy one here, not me,” wheezed Trallix in a strained voice.

  “No, listen,” Sister Vella pleaded. “It’s important you understand. It’s your soul that’s at stake here! You’re the one sinking deeper and deeper.”

  “I don’t see any point in this,” protested the holy man. “I will die and that is that!” Trallix said, almost bragging.

  “That’s precisely why I’m here.” Vella closed her eyes again and uttered another prayer, this one more frantic. “Please let me finish.”

  Trallix waved his hand in a circular motion as if to encourage Vella to finish her aimless treatise.

  “Then one day I thought about my own life, its spiritual high points, and its low points. I correlated these peaks and valleys with meas
urable quantitative factors relevant to my life—things such as health, wealth, education, career, family, and other socio-economic variables. Amongst all of the individuals still on the list, I asked the Unitronic Database to identify those who seemed to have traits equal and opposite of mine. Assuming there would be room for statistical error, I wasn’t surprised there were a dozen possibilities identified. I studied each in detail, ruling them out one by one for various reasons until only your name remained.

  “You were raised in a well-to-do family. I was raised in poverty. You were sent to the finest schools. I taught myself to read and write. While you were at the pinnacle of your career, I was scouring the gutters for scraps of food. Now I’ve reclaimed my life and am blessed with more abundance than I’ve ever known. You are caught in a downward spiral of growing despair.

  “You are my counterpart. I am convinced because I have studied your life and found it to be a perfect match,” she said confidently. “The pieces all fit together. It’s just that you refuse to admit it to yourself.”

  “That isn’t proof! I’ve never heard such mumbo jumbo in all my days!”

  Vella felt exhausted. She got up and walked over to the narrow window carved out of solid stone and looked upward. “The galaxy’s spiral arms are particularly stunning this evening.”

  Trallix commented, “Oh, come now, my dear sister. You didn’t travel five hundred light years from Vatican Prime to talk to me about the status of the night sky. The Mothersoul Superior is much too conservative with her limited resources.”

  “You’re right,” said Vella and she turned around and faced Trallix again. “Let me be more direct in my reason for being here.”

  Trallix looked pleased with himself. A hint of a smile helped to lift his entire face. Finally, he thought, the truth.

  “There is a second part of the theory,” Vella finally admitted. “If one of the two souls in a pair ceases to exist, its counterpart must also cease to exist. It’s the Second Theorem of Spiritual Mechanics, more commonly known as the Theorem of Spiritual Conservation.”