MONAD 12.21.12

by T. Anderson

  “Woooaahh! Someone’s on edge,“ Dad laughed. “You could be a ninja with reflexes like that.” He brushed his sandy blond bangs from his eyes and pulled up a teak chair in front of me. He straddled it backwards, resting his forearms on the back. Clasping his hands together, he began his lecture.

  “Air,” (my nickname) “I want to talk to you about something before you leave tomorrow.” It was a little weird. There was a sense of gravity in his voice. The usually passive, laid back tone was replaced with a nervous wobble and his body language became a little tense. His leg bounced uncontrollably on the ground. Realizing that I’d noticed, he quickly flipped his hand down to stop his rogue knee.

  “Yeah? Okay.” I couldn’t imagine what he was about to say. We’ve always been very open about all that ‘life’ stuff. Sex. Drugs. Whatever. What else could there be to talk about that was this serious? He had my attention.

  When he finally spoke, I had a feeling it wasn’t quite what he really wanted to say. “This is a big move for you. You’re bound to go through a period of adjustment. You might doubt yourself and your decision to be there. Things won’t be easy at first. But you have a great support system—your mom and I are always here for you. You know that. But just in case, there is someone on campus who can help if there’s an emergency. A friend. We’ve known him since before you were born. You probably don’t remember him. He’s a professor at the school. He teaches genetics in the department where you’ll be spending most of your time. In fact, you have a class with him this semester. His name is Doctor Verner Hanson. You can trust him. I’ll give you his phone number and address. If you need him for anything, you’ll know where he is.”

  Okayyy…this was news to me. Why hadn’t my parents told me this before? Probably didn’t want me to know they had a spy on the inside checking up on me. But now they realized it might be a good thing in case I had a panic attack or something stupid like that. Oh well. “Okay. Thanks. Anything else?” I grinned to ease my dad’s worries. Our eyes were like mirror images of each other. Striking pale gray-blue. Light, long lashes. I could see the tension disappear from his face.

  “No, that’s all. I don’t want you to think we’ll be checking up on you or anything, but you never know—you might need him at some point, and he’ll be much closer than we will. You’re not mad, are you?” He cringed and gritted his teeth together, waiting for my dismissal.

  “I’m not mad, Dad. It’s fine. Thanks.” I really did mean it. I would miss the security of this serene multi-level backyard rock garden in this little two-story row house, perched on the side of a hill in our eclectic, San Fran neighborhood. He gently touched my forehead with his index finger as he stood up, signaling my eyelids to flutter closed. I heard him say, “Love you, Air,” as I slowly opened my eyes.

  The sound of his flip-flops slapping his feet faded into the house and my gaze fell onto the statue in the shade at the fence—Shiva, the cosmic dancer who presides over the constant destruction and recreation of the universe. I allowed myself to take in three deep calming breaths before following my father inside for dinner. Tomorrow will be the start of a great adventure, I told myself.

  STELLA

  I survived the parental good-byes. I survived the “discussion” with my father about my refusal to take the MONAD jet. I mean, please! Can’t I just go to college like a normal college kid? I survived the tiny plane from home to Minneapolis. I survived the connecting flight to Oakland International Airport. I survived the private driving service from the airport to campus, only because I insisted on a completely non-descript, non-fancy-looking car—no limos!

  I survived moving into my dorm. Thankfully, I arrived the day before actual “move-in day,” so the campus was a little quieter than it would be the next day. I was so tired I couldn’t see straight. I had the room all to myself because my roommate wasn’t coming until tomorrow, so I flopped down on the bed, completely exhausted. I made it. No episodes, no hallucinations, no visions—yet. It was eight p.m. and even though I was starved half to death, I closed my heavy eyes. I absorbed the rare privacy. Just for a few minutes. There was so much I should be doing tonight, still…just a short little nap, I told myself. Then it happened.

  I would describe it more as a memory. At least that’s what it felt like. It was one of the first visions I can remember having, but each time I had it, it became clearer. Over the years it evolved into this:

  I am in a medical facility. I am lying down in a…hospital room? A surgical room? Everything is clean and white. The smell is sterile and benign. The lights are very bright. There are two or three doctors or nurses dressed in scrubs. Their faces are covered, so I can’t identify any distinguishable features. Maybe some eyes, maybe some bits of hair, the sex of the person. I feel a little nervous, but not afraid. I know that it is my choice to be in this place. I am not here against my will.

  I tilt my head sideways and look to my left. Another bed. Someone is lying only a few feet from me, hooked up to monitors. I notice only one physical feature under the blankets, gown, and oxygen mask—a few wisps of blond hair peeking out of the hair net. When I see this other person, I have an overwhelming feeling of regret, but I don’t know why. I consciously try to observe further into the vision. The voices are soothing and reassuring to me.

  One voice in particular is very familiar. I have never been able to identify the voice, until now. Male. Monotone. Professional. Unemotional. “All right Stella, I am injecting your IV with something to relax you. I want you to count backwards from ten. Have a peaceful journey. We can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  I start the counting. Ten. Nine. Eight. WAIT! Seven. This doesn’t make any sense. Six. The voice. Five...DAD!?

  Gasping, I woke up to darkness in a cold, clammy sweat. In a few seconds I caught my breath. Then I remembered where I was. My dorm room. I struggled to pull myself up from the bare, uncovered mattress. I swayed, trying to keep my balance. Fumbling to find a light switch, I stubbed my toe on the corner of a desk and reality hit me instantly. “Ouch! Shit!” I cursed, but no one was there to hear me. I was alone. Alone long enough to realize that this was in no way a hallucination. This was an actual experience. I wasn’t sure if it was a memory of the past or a premonition of the future. If it was a memory, then when did this happen? If it was the future, when would it happen?

  I couldn’t think straight because my head and my stomach were both telling me I was hungry. Very hungry. When had I eaten last? I grabbed my purse and my new room key. I quickly checked my face in the mirror by the door, ignoring the ugly dark circles under my eyes, then left in search of food.

  I headed down the stairs and when I came to the third floor landing, I literally ran into someone. I was still upset and spooked, and must have jumped three feet in the air.

  “Woah! Sorry. You okay?” he asked. How embarrassing! He picked up my purse and, when he handed it to me, he looked at me a little closer. I couldn’t say anything. I was tired, hungry, and out of it. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Seriously, are you all right?,” he repeated in a concerned voice.

  Finally, I managed, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks,” and forced a semi-smile. “Would you happen to know where I can get something to eat?” He started giving me directions to a coffee shop but I could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Even considering my state of mind from the episode I’d just been through, I still noticed how incredibly fine this guy was. Wow! What a great first impression I must have made. Hopefully I’ll have another chance.

  “Wait a minute…you look like someone was chasing you or something. You want me to come with you?,” he offered.

  “Oh no! I mean…I’m fine. Really. Thanks,” I smiled, desperately trying to appear confident. “I gotta go.” The smartest thing I could do right now was get out of there before I made more of an ass of myself. But I could feel him watching me as I continued down the stairs. Yay!

  “Hey! What’s your name?,” he yelled down.

  “Stella!” I hollered bac
k.

  “I’m Dane! And watch where you’re going next time!” he added with a laugh.

  ARON

  Gram twitched his ears and looked up at me with grief–stricken eyes. I kneeled beside him and wrapped my arms around his furry body. How I wished I could take him with me! I kept our goodbye short, sparing him some of the torture of abandonment. I promised to see him as soon as I could. He didn’t believe me.

  I drove my Vespa scooter while my parents followed me over the Bay Bridge and north along I-80. They had all my stuff in the back of their Subaru. I was wishing I’d chosen to move in the day before. I wouldn’t say I’m anti-social, but I have a hard time dealing with large crowds. My roommate would be expecting me. I didn’t know much about her, except that we’re the same age and she’s a psychology major. Every time I checked in my rear view mirror, my mom was waving at me and motioning for me to turn around using wicked hand gestures and mouthing, “Watch the road!” with huge wide eyes.

  As I approached Eastshore State Park, I took the exit and made a right on University Avenue. “Almost there. Getting a little nervous. I can do this.” I realized I was talking to myself out loud. I kept my focus on the road while chanting my personal mantra, “Om Namah Shivaya, Om Namah Shivaya.” I slowed down, pulled into the campus and followed the signs for my dorm. I already knew where it was anyway. I’d studied the campus map and remembered it from the visits I’d made there before.

  My parents are both UC Berkeley graduates. They used to spend a lot of time at the campus when I was younger. I remember tagging along with them when they‘d come to meet with alumni and old professors. I would walk along and marvel at the grand, stately buildings and imagine myself studying inside with my nose in a book, looking totally intelligent. Well, here I was now—kind of unbelievable. I felt pretty proud of myself.

  The parking lot was a chaotic mess of parents and students and moving paraphernalia. There were clubs and groups organized for different things. It’s pretty common to see recruiters and demonstrators on move-in day trying to capture the attention of the freshman. I parked my scooter, took off my helmet, and shook out my long, wavy blond hair. My parents pulled up in the spot beside me, then my dad jumped out and jogged over for a big high-five. “Sweet, Air! We made it!” He seemed more excited than I was. I let him have his moment.

  Just as we were celebrating this first victory, a random protestor jumped in between us flailing a sign. He was invading my personal space, but I was too stunned to object. He pointed at his sign. It read, “December 2012: Judgment Day.” “It’s not too late to repent, sister,” he said, goofily. Other than his hysterical hypothesis on the end of the world, he seemed pretty normal. He shoved a flyer in my hand and gave me a wink. “See you at the lecture,” he finished, before pouncing on his next victim. Seriously?

  “Welcome to college!” my dad said as he threw his hands in the air.

  My mom stood shaking her head behind him. “Get used to it, Air. There are all kinds here. A word of advice—keep an open mind, but don’t join any cults.” She was both joking and serious at the same time. Most of the time, Mom’s advice is the best. “Come on, let’s find your room,” she smiled as she grabbed my hand and lead the way.

  During my check-in, I discovered that my roommate was missing in action—probably out on a campus tour or something. Bummer. My parents wouldn’t get to meet her today. So far, everything had gone smoothly and my worries were all for nothing. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be…until I said goodbye to Mom and Dad. There were tears. Good thing I’m not into mascara, or I’d have been a total mess. Mom hugged me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe. She gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear and repeated to me something that I’d heard many times when I was afraid to try something new, “Aron, you are strong. You can face anything that comes your way. You’re an Erickson. Remember that.”

  I watched my perfect parents roll out of the lot and back toward home. “I am an Erickson. I can do this,” I told myself.

  As I turned around in the sea of move-in-day bodies, someone tapped my shoulder. “Hey! I thought I recognized you…I’m Dane. You moved in yesterday, right?”

  Puzzled, I answered, “No, I just got here like an hour ago.”

  He gave me a scrutinizing look, “Oh, that’s so bizarre. Sorry—I could swear I saw you here last night.” Pointing toward the dorm, he said, “That’s me up there, third floor.” I surveyed the building for a moment and realized his room was directly beneath mine. That was weird…

  Nodding my head, I replied, “Uh-huh. Well, I’m Aron. I think I’m right above you, so I’ll try not to walk too loud.” I couldn’t help but notice how hot Dane was. He looked more mature than the average freshman. I had to stop myself before I said something totally stupid. I smiled politely and an embarrassingly nervous giggle escaped my lips. I turned and marched myself back to my room to start organizing my things while I waited for my roommate to return. I couldn’t wait to meet her.

  2

  The Meeting

  The first thing Stella noticed when she woke was the lingering headache that had never really disappeared. Either too much coffee the night before or not enough yet this morning, she made a mental note to cut back on the caffeine.

  Most of her morning was spent touring Tolman Hall. Fairly confident that she could find a few classrooms, Stella left the group and went to explore the campus on her own, fully enjoying her newly discovered freedom. With so much to see and do, she began at the top of her list—Dwinelle Hall. Apparently a Buddhist studies group regularly met there. She didn’t know very much about Buddhism, but was open to learn. Over the summer, she’d accumulated a collection of books on different religions. But hiding from her oppressive parents sort of quashed those intentions. She’d only managed to skim through a couple. Intrigued with one of the classes offered by the Studies Group, called “Death, Dreams, and Visions in Tibetan Buddhism,” she needed to check this place out.

  Stella made her way in the direction of Dwinelle and followed a walking path to the Valley Life Science Building. She could either go around it or go through it. The sign outside the building sounded interesting. It read Human Evolution Research Center. “This could be cool,” she thought, deciding to walk through and see what was happening inside.

  Wandering the deserted halls and peeking into empty rooms to satisfy her curiosity, Stella guessed this was not the popular place to be during lunchtime on move-in day. A poster on the wall caught her attention—December 2012: Theories of the Mayan Calendar—and she’d stopped to read it when someone called out behind her, “Aron?” She dismissed it, almost blocking it out, but she was really the only other person in the empty hallway. Footsteps quickened behind her, almost to a jog. The clip, clop, clip echoed off the walls, coming closer.

  “Aron Erickson?” The voice sounded friendly and outgoing, but a bit perplexed at the same time. Now the man had her attention. He must have mistaken her with someone he knew. Stella turned to face him. He skidded to a stop five feet in front of her. He caught his breath and with a warm grin, pulled his glasses down his nose in a scholarly fashion and said, “Aron, I’m Doctor Hanson…Verner Hanson. Your parents told you about me teaching here, right?”

  As she tried to make words come out of her mouth, something completely unexpected came over Stella—the unmistakable sensation that she was about to have a vision. A tingling emerged deep inside her head as she felt the blood begin to leave her fingers and toes. Rapid flashes appeared before her eyes. Again, there was a clear feeling of recall or memory involved in this experience. Focusing on the man’s face to stay grounded only sent her further into the event. Red flags and warning signs triggered in every cell of Stella’s body. Torn between running away and staying, something inside begged her to surrender. The man must have sensed the panic on her face. The confident, poised voice from a minute ago became quiet and shaky as he muttered slowly, “Oh. Dear. God.” And then he whispered, “Stella?”

/>   Who was this man? How did he know her name? Stella couldn’t force the words from her mouth. She was fighting with another voice inside and alternating from the hallway to images in her head that seemed so foreign, yet strangely familiar. In the flashes, she saw this man’s face—younger, but definitely his. When he spoke her name, he said it with such overwhelming emotion that she was stricken with grief. Stella slid her back up to the wall behind to steady herself. When her hands hit the cold marble at her sides, it shocked her back to reality, but she was still unable to speak. What just happened? She sucked a breath like she’d been underwater for five minutes. When Stella felt as though she was ready to faint, the man was at her side, gently supporting her at her elbows. “Stella. I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Verner Hanson. I’m a professor here. I didn’t expect to meet you like this. We should go somewhere to talk.”

  Under any other normal circumstances, she would have kicked this guy in the nuts with her knee and ran screaming to look for security guards. But this was not normal—definitely not normal at all. She knew in her gut that she would trust this man with her life. Her mouth was dry so she licked her lips to see if she could make sound yet, then nodded barely and mouthed, “Okay.” He took her arm and guided her down the hall toward an exit.

  Stella was beyond confusion as they were rushing along. She wasn’t sure where they were going and at this point, really didn’t care. She hadn’t noticed him dialing his cell phone, but now he was talking to someone.