Seven Point Eight The First Chronicle

Part Three

OOBE

The entire universe is this gigantic loaf with many other slices, potentially. So our universe could be one slice, and a different parallel universe could be living on a different slice.

*

Brian Greene





15

To See the Truth

Sunday 31st October 1993

The call he’d been expecting still hadn’t materialised. She was cutting it fine and a promise was a promise, despite being made three months ago. Sam despaired, if there was anybody he wanted to see, it was her.

At the tender age of twenty one, which he’d turned this very day, he was deeply involved in the final year of his art degree. He still loved to perform and compose music though, and he’d already produced several CDs full of his work. His father didn’t approve of his career choice, no change there, but Sam had dismissed these criticisms in his teenage years.

Finally, he’d left his father’s Victorian town house and found himself a reasonable, clean, yet quirky one bedroom flat in FinsburyPark, just off Seven Sisters Road. He’d grown up surrounded by financial security, it meant little to him and so long as he could be relatively comfortable, Sam felt happy. All that mattered was art, music…and love.

Sam walked along the road on his way home at dusk, having visited a friend. On reaching his door, he took out his key and opened the door to his ground floor flat, his own request as it made it easier to accommodate a piano. After entering, he placed his bag by the door, put on the radio, searching for a classical station and jumped onto the sofa. He checked his answer phone to see if there were any messages, but there weren’t and he sighed with disappointment. Maybe she’d call later.

By force of habit, he pulled out some rizlas, a pouch of tobacco, and a small lump of cannabis encased in cling film, proceeding to roll a joint. He lit it and lay back on the sofa, smoking thoughtfully and listening to the radio.

It kept the visitors away. Initially, he’d started drinking to keep them quiet and it did work, but alcohol stunted his ability to be creative and inspirational so he tried smoking a joint instead. Cannabis provided an effective spirits barrier while preserving his creativity. It’d been a few years since he’d seen any of them, they were too intrusive and he didn’t want their advice anyway.

After the joint, he moved over to the piano and played a couple of his own compositions. As if answering his prayers, the phone rang and his fingers paused over the piano keys. This had to be the call he desired, so he answered it, buzzing with anticipation.

“Oh Sam, I’m glad you’re in,” the voice at the other end said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call earlier, I’ve been doing overtime. I hardly get time to breathe.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam replied. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Well, happy birthday first of all. How’s your day been?”

Sam shrugged. “Okay I guess…it’s just another birthday.”

“Just another birthday?” she queried, “It’s your twenty first!”

“So it is.”

“Have you planned a big night out, like the drinking extravaganza that was your eighteenth?”

“No, I’d rather do something quiet, I don’t feel like partying.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy about it. I bet you’ll spend it with your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sam said, quickly.

An awkward silence followed.

“So…are you going to sit in your flat alone or shall I come over, to force you to go out?” she asked him.

Sam laughed, relieved at the break in the sudden tension.

“I think you’re going to have to drag me out.”

“Well, I did promise to visit. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Looking forward to it,” Sam said.

Everything was going to plan.

An hour later, he heard the door bell and rushed out of the bedroom to answer it. Checking his reflection in the mirror first, he produced a mock smile to ensure nothing sat lodged in his teeth. He smoothed back his ebony hair, which reached his shoulders now, and straightened his clothing, the usual ripped jeans, loose black shirt, sweatbands, and a few lethal looking silver rings.

Perfect.

Sam opened the door and flashed a welcoming smile.

“Happy birthday!” Ava said.

She looked different, more mature, more elegant but just as beautiful though. Her hair had been straightened and layered, framing her face quite delicately. She wore a long coat over a pair of tight jeans and a lace bodice, plus her favourite red silk scarf tied loosely around her neck.

Sam noted how her eyes fixed on his face and they hugged, he discreetly inhaling the sensual scent of her perfume.

“I’m ready if you are,” he said, rushing back to grab his money and keys.

They walked down the main road, chatting about his life at university, his music and his art. He valued her sincere interest, plus her request that he had to perform for her and show her his paintings, to which he agreed. Sam asked what filled her life at the moment.

“Viruses, bacteria, diseases, immunity… I’m researching the genetic structure of them and developing ways to combat illness. However, I’m thinking of taking on a new contract in the near future, researching the human genome. ”

“It sounds very important,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I guess it is. I didn’t want to take the lab job at first, as I never expected your father to feel responsible for my career, but it’s turned out to be a real pivotal point in my life. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to join the Human Genome Project.”

“I’m glad he’s done something positive for somebody,” he said, trying to hide his bitterness.

Ava wanted to discuss the sideline research she and Tom were conducting, but she’d sworn him to non-disclosure and didn’t want to draw Sam into it. In many ways, the research terrified her even though it broke new ground, as it forced her to face the fact she was unique. Nobody wanted to be a freak of nature. It made the reasons for someone observing or spying on her become more sinister. What would happen if the medical establishment knew about this? What would Sam’s father do about it?

Putting such thoughts to the back of their minds, they found a traditional local pub, complete with a pool table, and Sam placed a couple of coins on the table. Before too long, the table became free so he set up the balls in the triangle and took the break, sinking a red in the process. He strode around the table with confidence, but refrained from showing off. A small group of young women watched Sam with appreciation and Ava smiled to herself, however, he didn’t pay them any attention.

After the pub, they found a Chinese restaurant not too far away and ate a meal, chatting about family and various things that had been happening. Ava glanced at her watch, shocked at the late hour and aware she’d had a few glasses of wine too many. It didn’t look like she’d be driving home tonight.

“You can stay at mine,” Sam offered, “I don’t have uni in the morning.”

Ava shook her head.

“I’ve got work in the morning…”

“Don’t be silly, you’re more than welcome. There’s no way you can drive home tonight.”

She relented in the knowledge she was unfit to drive.

“There’s nothing wrong with pulling the odd sickie,” Sam told her.

They enjoyed the stroll back to his flat, laughing and joking about anything random that sprang to mind. As it was Halloween, people walked the streets, frequenting pubs and bars dressed up as witches, Frankenstein, Dracula or ghosts. The hour of night and the stiff breeze accentuated the atmosphere. On the main road, they encountered a young couple standing in the middle of the pavement, looking up at a second floor bay window, which was slightly open. Rather than walk past, Sam and Ava stopped to ask if they needed help.

“We’ve lost the keys to our flat,” the man said, shivering a little as he wore no coat.

“Don’t tell me,” Sam said, “you live on the second floor.”

“Yeah,” the man replied, sheepish.

“No problem,” Sam said.

Before anyone could say anything, Sam leapt over the wall, grabbed hold of the drain pipe and proceeded to climb up it with incredible agility. Ava watched in admiration, the woman in the couple seemed concerned he’d fall while the man looked on, impressed. Sam reached the second floor window in no time, shimmying along the windowsill from the drain pipe without difficulty. Then he climbed through the open window, disappeared into the flat and he reappeared a few moments later at the main door on the ground floor. The couple were extremely grateful.

“Most people don’t give a shit,” he said, “but thanks a million mate.”

Sam shrugged.

“Don’t mention it.”

“You wanna pop in for a beer?” the woman offered.

Sam looked at Ava, she seemed easy either way, so he made the decision and declined the offer respectfully. They continued on their way, getting closer to Sam’s flat, which was just off the main road. Cutting through an alleyway, a frequent shortcut of Sam’s, a man stepped out from the shadows without warning. Sam and Ava stopped dead in their tracks as he brandished a knife.

“I’m not carrying any money,” Sam said, staring at the man hard, not intimidated in the slightest.

If anything, their assailant seemed shifty.

“I will use this knife,” he remonstrated.

Sam didn’t flinch, although he grabbed Ava’s arm as he addressed their potential attacker.

“Like your mother did when she sliced her own wrists?” Sam said, with disdain. “She left you alone, with a younger brother to care for and a step-father who beat you both without mercy. Now your brother is a junkie and you’re a drug dealer. You live in squalor, not caring for the future or whether the next day will be different”.

Their assailant began to freak, his hands shaking, his manner confused.

Sam continued, “It’s only a matter of months before you find your brother dead and you’ll only outlive him by a year. Already, I can hear the clock ticking for you, the countdown has already begun. Maybe you should be careful who you buy from.”

“Who the f*ck are you?” the man cried, dropping his knife and running off. Ava didn’t know what to say, she looked at Sam with incredulity and some suspicion.

“Did you know that guy?” she asked him.

Sam shook his head, staring after him as he staggered down the alleyway.

“Well, you seemed to know so much about him.”

He shrugged. “I just see the truth, that’s all.”

She still looked at him with a question mark on her face. Sam conceded that from her point of view, the whole thing did seem so peculiar, as he’d shown absolutely no fear, even when confronted by a knife wielding junkie. If anything, Sam felt pretty nonchalant about the incident, he knew they weren’t on the Grim Reaper’s list for the night.

He opened the door of his flat and stepped aside, to allow Ava to enter first. Once inside, they hung up their coats. He crashed on the sofa and gestured for her to sit beside him, while she stood around looking a little reluctant.

“This is all so weird,” she commented.

Sam put his feet up and patted the empty space next to him. Giving a little sigh and a soft laugh, she kicked off her shoes and wandered over, sitting next to him.

“Just relax,” Sam said, noting how nervous she suddenly appeared.

“Sorry,” Ava said, “I just…never expected to be here.”

He understood how awkward she felt. They had, after all, known each other since childhood and now had to adapt to a more adult friendship. Aware of the need to break the odd tension, he jumped up and sat down at the piano, playing a composition of his own. Ava reclined on the sofa and listened to the music, a melancholic, albeit meaningful melody that reminded one of lost opportunities, yet hope for the future.

She hadn’t heard him play for a long time. Sam had always been talented and she felt a sense of exasperation sometimes at the attitude of his father, who couldn’t seem to recognise that fact. Thankfully, her mother and family had given Sam a lot of support, keeping a piano at their house so that could learn, away from the critical disdain of his father.

After a while, Ava wandered over and sat next to him on the piano bench, as there was just enough room for two. He smiled and selected another tune, something familiar. The first few bars of John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ rang out and without prompting, Ava added the lyrics. She had a smooth voice that held a tune, but a keen ear would recognise its lack of formal vocal training. Sam didn’t care, she provided the Yoko Ono to his John Lennon.

“Better than ‘Chopsticks’, eh?” he queried with a laugh, after he’d played the final cords.

“Well, I certainly feel more relaxed now.”

He continued to play a greater range of tunes, some of them didn’t require lyrics, such as Dvorak’s ‘New World Symphony’, and some did. Sam performed a surprisingly tender rendition of ‘Nothing Compares To You’ by Sinead O’ Connor, which made the night memorable. Because Ava responded favourably to his voice and music, he continued to play well into the early hours of the morning. When it reached 2:00am, Sam sat back, feeling pretty exhausted. He reflected on the piano playing marathon that had just reached its conclusion.

“I’ve got blisters on my fingers!” he joked.

Ava laughed and laid her head on his shoulder, feeling equally tired. Sam made a suggestion.

“There’s a sofa over there that’s reasonably comfortable, or there’s a king size bed that’s extremely comfortable.”

She sat up, realising bed time called them both. Sam gazed at her expectantly and she lowered her eyes.

“It’s not right,” she replied.

“What’s not right?”

“You’re family, I can’t share a bed…”

“We used to all the time, remember? I used to knock on the door of your bedroom, and ask for a cuddle because of the monsters in my room.”

“That was different,” she argued gently, “we were kids….”

“I’m just thinking of your comfort.”

He stood up and walked to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. Ava remained rooted to the piano bench, no, she couldn’t… Sam took off his shirt, threw it on the bed and walked back towards Ava. He stood in the doorway, hands lightly gripping the frame overhead.

“Which are you going to choose? I’ve attained grade 5 in Awesome Cuddles, you know.” he asked her.

He successfully diffused the awkward tension and Ava laughed, unable to resist the puppy dog eyes he expressed. She stood up and wandered over, standing before him. Ava felt disturbed that she found his body erotic, even though technically she had no blood tie to him. Sam’s lean musculature looked natural, not forced and to her embarrassment, she found herself staring. Sam knew what she was thinking.

“Is there anything I could wear to sleep in?” she asked.

Sam paused, watching her wandering eyes and enjoying the effect he had upon her. He searched his wardrobe for an old t shirt and handed it to her, resisting the temptation to peep as she changed, and slipped into a pair of jogging bottoms to preserve some modesty. Normally, he’d sleep naked but that wasn’t appropriate tonight.

They lay on top of the covers, chatting and laughing, no pressures, no pretences, and no mention of his father. They remembered the good times in their normally sad childhood, although began to reflect on all the missing pieces as the clock ticked into the early hours of the morning. Whereas most children grew up with a clear idea of where they came from, this security had been denied them all their life. The mystery status of his mother reared its ugly head again.

“I wonder if she’d be proud of me, if we ever crossed paths,” he wondered aloud.

“Of course she would, you’re kind and talented.”

Sam rolled onto his side, looking wistful.

“Do you ever imagine what your real parents would think if they could see you?”

Ava mirrored his position as she answered.

“Sometimes. I don’t know if my mother watches me from some kind of spirit world, science doesn’t really allow for that concept. My father…I guess if he never stepped forward to claim me after her death, he doesn’t really care. I’m a Kavanagh, and their support means everything to me.”

Sam propped himself up on his elbow.

“You still want to know who they are though, don’t you?”

“One day…maybe one day.”

He made her feel at ease as they joined together in a friendly embrace. In the back of her mind, she was afraid of the truth. Not only did she seem to possess a super-human immune system, but she knew little of her origins too. However, another truth began to emerge from her subconscious. She felt attracted to Sam and he was attracted to her.

Was that so wrong?

Was that so very wrong?





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