Part 3 (1/2)
”Priscilla said that?”
”Yes. The reason I asked her about Felix is that Felix has a big crush on her, but she said you. She likes you.”
”What about you?”
”Her and I have an open relations.h.i.+p. No obligations.”
Aaron reenters the room with his refilled drink, catching the last part of this. ”You don't have to keep anything secret from me, guys. I'm your lawyer.”
”I gave Pris to him,” Tom says.
”That's what I thought.” Aaron looks at me. ”That should make you happy. You're totally in love with her.”
I feel my face turn crimson. You a.s.shole, Aaron. I turn and look at Tom, and Tom is looking back with raised eyebrows. ”You're in love with Pris?”
”I . . . well, I'm trying not to be, but . . .”
”All this time he's been coveting your girlfriend,” Aaron says.
”No. Really?” Tom seems taken aback, as if he's surprised and a little disappointed in himself for not seeing it. d.a.m.n you, I think. How dare you ”give” me something I want more than anything in the world.
You've just jinxed any chance I may have had with her. You've made me an accessory to her heartbreak. She really loves you, and you're going to crush her. Tomorrow night she's going to be destroyed, and I'm going to be partially to blame. Thanks Tom. Thanks a lot.
3. PRISCILLA.
The next afternoon, Tuesday, Heather Clarke's birthday, I'm teaching my cla.s.s when Tom comes in silently and taps me on my shoulder.
I swear, every girl in the room goes moon-eyed at the sight of him, as if some popular movie actor has walked in. It's sickening. ”You've got to hear this,” Tom says, holding up his tiny micro-ca.s.sette recorder.
I look at my students for a moment. They're watching a video tape about the reproductive system in sea turtles, so they'll have plenty to occupy them for a while. ”I'll be back in a few minutes,” I tell them, and Tom and I leave the cla.s.sroom.
We walk out into the echoing hall and down about four doors to my tiny closet-like office, just big enough for a rinky-d.i.n.k desk, three chairs, and a coat tree. ”What is it?” I ask him.
”Our b.u.m.” He thinks a moment, editing himself. ”Professor Laurel.
He was on the steps when I left this morning, so I interviewed him.”
Tom sets the tiny recorder in the middle of my desk and turns it on. For a moment there is only a hissing sound, then there's a pop and I feel myself tense up. It weird, I'm nervous, and nervous in a weird way --- much like when I was a teenager and was about to watch my first X-rated movie. I have no idea what to expect, but from the way Tom is acting I know it's something that will affect my life. I'm not sure I want to hear it, but it's too late. Our b.u.m's halting, dry voice is already crackling out of the tiny speaker, so I brace myself and listen:
LAUREL [excited] . . . you saw it? You saw through?
TOM No, but I think a friend of mine did. He was on LSD and looked at one of your cubes and became very upset.
LAUREL Oh, that'll happen. That'll happen.
TOM So you know what I'm talking about.
LAUREL Yes. Oh, yes. I know.
TOM My problem is that I don't know if I really understand what is going on. I was hoping you could explain it to me.
LAUREL [after long pause] What happened is your friend, he experienced the larger world. We all exist in it, we all travel through it every day, but we're not aware of it.
Your friend saw a seed, a man-made four-dimensional object. It drew his attention into the forth dimension, an area the human brain is not designed to perceive, and he got a glimpse of the bigger world.
TOM Now what do you mean by the ”bigger world.”
LAUREL The infinite-dimensional reality.
TOM You say we travel though this every day?
LAUREL Exactly! But we are not aware of it. One way to understand it is to think of us as two-dimensional creatures, shadows on the ground. Like this. You see the shadow moving over the b.u.mps and cracks on the surface?
That's two dimensions traveling over a three-dimensional surface. And see, the shadow jumps up the steps? Those are big three-dimensional jumps for a two-dimensional object, and it doesn't even notice.