Giddeon (Silver Strand Series) (6 page)

We stayed for 5 days in
Hawaii
because Giddeon had instructed us to make everything look as much like a family vacation as possible.

There was no further contact with Dr. Ho, because that one meeting was risky enough, according to my subconscious.
 
I had given Kevin a secure cell phone, with the most advanced encryption program available, and we had its twin.
 
We were to use those telephones for any communication.
 
I had purchased the devices using cash, at a specialty store in
Los Angeles
.
 
Giddeon had insisted that I be at the store at 10 o’clock sharp on the designated morning, and I was.
 
Oddly, there was a power outage moments before I entered the establishment, but, I was able to complete the transaction, anyway.
 
Presumably, there was no video of me entering or leaving the store.

Like I said, Gid can be thorough.

If we did not hear from Kevin, we were to assume that the observations confirmed
Giddeon’s
predictions.
 
Apparently, the sightings were verified.
 
Dr. Ho then had a protocol to follow, spelled out by Gid, as to whom to contact, and when.
 
There is a chain of command for such discoveries, and word quickly spread throughout the community, but did not immediately make it into the public domain.

Of course there was disagreement about the dangers in the beginning, but as all of mankind’s observational capacity was focused on the new threat, it became evident that there was possibly a problem.

A great, big problem.

*****

We touched down at Lindberg Field in
San Diego
.
 
Outside, the air was drier and cooler than
Hawaii
, and I think Giddy was disappointed that there was no pretty greeter to give him plastic flowers to put around his neck.
 
He quickly got over it, though, and started to jabber,

“Boss, Boss, Boss... Sam!”

That was his version of Boris and Samantha.
 
He knew we were back in their vicinity.
 
Melody smiled and shook her head as she buckled him into his car seat.
 
I waited until she finished the job, and then held her car door open and shut it behind her when she got into the vehicle.
 
She gave me a sweet look through the glass when inside, and I felt a slight tickle in my heart.
 
I pretty much always hold doors open for her, like a teenager on his first date.
 
Melody’s told me numerous times over the years that it isn’t necessary, but she finally gave up in the face of my persistence.
 
I wonder if my impulse to do things like this stems from the fact that we never really got to have a first date?
 
I was in a coma the day after I met her, and the next time I got to see her, for real, I was convulsing on the floor of her church and interrupting her wedding.
 
Then, I was in the hospital, and after that we moved in together as I recuperated.
 

If we never got to have a first date, I suppose I’m determined to make every outing a homage to that lost ritual.
 
Even going to the store, or Burger King… or coming back from
Hawaii
after telling an astronomer the coordinates of a potentially Earth-shattering asteroid… is cause for such behavior.

No exceptions.

*****

We left the parking lot and headed for the Interstate.
 
I couldn’t help but remember the time that Giddeon and I had done the same thing, but, back then, we went over to
Seaport
Village
, instead, where we observed Melody sitting at the table and looking for me.
 

*****

Glancing over at my wife in the station wagon next to me, I was so thankful for my new reality.
 
Much better than the old one.

“Boss, Boss, Boss… Sam, Sam, Sam!”

I looked in the rear view mirror and saw an animated toddler with curls bouncing around his chubby little face.
 
He had both of his hands reaching out into the air around him… as if he was trying to pet imaginary cats.

At least I supposed they were imaginary.
 
Maybe my son was reaching across into another dimension that I was incapable of seeing.
 
After all, Giddeon always said everything is right next to you, no matter how far away.

“That’s right… Boris and Samantha can’t wait to see you, either,” I spoke to his reflection.
 
His eyes locked on mine for a second, and then spit bubbles and a squeal commenced.

Melody laughed, shook her head and put a hand on my shoulder as I drove.

Everything was right next to me.

*****

I had never been kissed, before.

Everything disappeared around us, and I was unaware of any sensations other than his lips on mine.
 
Can you envision never being able to touch another person for all of those years, and then finally being able to do what you had only been able to dream of doing for so, so long?

I didn’t know what to expect, and I can honestly say that it exceeded all of my expectations.
 
Soft, warm, moist flesh on such sensitive parts of my body.
 
It was electric… no, it was beyond that… it was superconducting.
 
All of the ions in the universe transited through my soul.

Finally, we broke apart, and I could see in his face that he was as shocked by the contact as I was.
 
His blue eyes radiated a range of emotions that I’m sure were reflected in the dark brown of my own.
 
We just stood there looking at each other in total amazement, and I’m positive both of us were wondering how all of this was possible.
 
How had we been able to meet, after all of that time?
 
How was it that we had held hands and talked and played… and then, at the end of it all, kissed?
 

It was like a miracle.

No, it was a miracle.
 
The ultimate miracle.
 
Water into wine was nothing compared to this.
 
I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, brushing it back away from the aqua marine of his eyes.
 
He smiled, and seemed to suppress a shudder upon my touch.
 
We kissed again, and, if anything, it was better than the first time.
 
This time we were more sure of ourselves, and it was as if a bond was formed… a merger of some sort.
 
A gentle contract that we both signed with the tender touch.
 
When it was over the second time, tears spilled out upon my face and he seemed near to losing the glisten contained within his gaze, too.

Then, I began to dissolve.

I could feel it as it happened, and I tried my best to stop it.
 
He reached out to me and I could sense his grasp around my wrist and my waist… but then his hands began to sink into my skin as I became more and more insubstantial.

“No!” I heard him exclaim.

“Giddeon!” I reached once more for his face.

And, soon, I was gone.
 
At least to him.
 
He still stood there before me, but I could tell he was blind to my presence.
 
He felt around in the air as he stood there on the 9th green, confused, in the noonday sun.

Finally, he sank to his knees and bowed his head.

I tried to comfort him, and put my hands upon his back.
 
I could feel his heart racing… just like mine.
 
I knelt down beside him and whispered into his ear, but, I could tell that he couldn’t hear me.

“I’ll come back,” I said.

Then, I turned and walked back to the house, where I knew Melody and Greg had just awoken from their nap.

*****

When she dissolved there in front of me on the golf course, I finally understood what it meant to be alone.
 
I always knew, on an intellectual level, but that was the first time I had ever felt it down into every last virtual fiber of my being.
 

It was almost more than I could bear.
 
It felt like a hammer blow to my chest.
 
Like all of the air had left the atmosphere.
 
Like tomorrow would never come, and yesterday had disappeared.

I eventually picked myself up off of the green, and gathered my composure.
 
One good thing about being alone is that no one can see you cry… although, I found out later, that that isn’t always the case.
 

The video playing on the therapist’s computer was the only illumination in her bedroom.
 
The laptop rested on her midsection as she lay there in her bed.
 
The computer wasn’t hooked up to the internet… as a matter of a fact, it didn’t even have that capability because Giddeon had insisted on it.
 
So far, she… Dr. Jennifer Evans… had taped about two hours worth of ‘interviews’ with Greg’s subconscious, and judging from the looks of it, would have many, many more hours, if not days, to add to them in the future.

A lot of what had been videoed so far was background material.
 
Giddeon tended to go into personal detail about his existence quite often… he would even apologize for his rambling, but, Dr. Evans suspected that it was done on purpose.
 
It was like he was laying groundwork to reflect the believability of what was to come.
 
And, she suspected that what was to come would make the revelations in Wiki-Leaks pale in comparison.

So, I walked over to the Brigantine.
 
I didn’t teleport, because I wanted to take my time and think about what had just occurred while I walked.
 
I took the same path that Greg and I had taken after we had met for the first time… down
Glorietta
Boulevard
, under the Palm trees and Eucalyptus trees.
 
After a while, I passed the spot where Boris had been hit by the car.
 
I remembered the anguish on my other half’s face as he kneeled there in the road, covered in the blood of his cat.

Now, I understand loss a little better.
 
It’s hard to fully grasp what it is to lose something if you’ve never really had anything to begin with.
 
Only when something that you cared for gets taken away does it actually hit you.

*****

I thought of all the solid ones on the other side, and how their whole lives are basically an exercise in loss.
 
In the beginning, they are often given so much.
 
All of the manna from Heaven in the form of health, relationships, material possessions and hope.
 
And, then, little by little, it is taken from them.
 
Dreams die.
 
Animals die.
 
Grandparents and then, parents.
 
Money slips from bank accounts, friendships slip from days, love slips from hearts.
 
Slowly, over time, security is stripped away like pieces torn from a child’s favorite blanket.
 
Then, bodies begin to fail.
 
Muscles that used to respond so quickly no longer heed commands.
 
Mobility is lost.
 
Freedom is lost.
 
And, sometimes, in the ultimate insult, memories are lost.
 

They disappear into the void that has taken everything else.
 
Into the void that is forever hungry for more.
 
Until all that is left is just a whisper.
 

A soft plea; a barely audible question…

Why?

Giddeon/Greg looked into the camera.

Sorry… didn’t mean to get so melancholy… that’s not really like me.
 
Something about being hypnotized brings it out.

*****

So, I walked.
 
There’s something to be said for exercise.
 
Actual movement in three dimensions.
 
It connects you with time and space.
 
It lets you know where you are in the grand scheme of things.
 
When I finally reached the restaurant, I went in and found myself a seat at my favorite table.
 
I ‘ordered’ fish tacos and a
Fat
Tire beer.
 
I imagined Greg was sitting across from me and I told him all about Mia.
 
I told him about how I finally understood how he must have felt after meeting Melody.
 
I described to him the sensation of holding Mia’s hand, and how her golf swing was so awkward and cute… not to mention effective.

He listened just like an imaginary friend is supposed to do.
 
We clinked our glasses in a toast to love.
 
I didn’t need anyone to tell me that that was what I was feeling.
 
I knew she was the only girl for me.
 
It didn’t matter that, literally, she was the only girl for me… the only one that I could possibly hope to interact with on this plane of existence.
 
I just felt it… and, what a feeling.

What a feeling, indeed.

*****

Dr. Evans nodded to herself, shut down the computer and put it on the table beside her bed.
 
She lay there in the dark for quite some time until a tear scrolled down her face and onto her neck.
 
It then soaked into the pillow beneath her.
 

She turned on her side and reached over to the empty spot next to her.
 
The spot where her husband used to lay at night for so many years.
 
So many wonderful years.
 

Before the cancer took him.

Dr. Jenny Evans closed her eyes and fell asleep.
 
She dreamed of her husband as he used to be.
 
Tall and strong and tan.
 
Deep green eyes and a loving smile.
 
A gentle giant and a prince of a man.
 
And, that night, she slept soundly for the first time in a long, long time.

*****