Tunnel Vision

47

Sarah’s apartment was on the second floor. They walked into the living room, which was done in white and beige with accents of color, and nothing was out of place. Against the bank of windows overlooking Harvard Street sat a deep, cushiony sofa with a coffee table supporting a vase of fresh tulips. Two white-and-gold lamps sat on end tables, filling the room with a warm glow. Across from the sofa were two white French chairs. On the opposite wall were posters of French café scenes. It looked like a space Sarah would occupy.

“How come your place looks like it was just attacked by Architectural Digest and my place looks bombed out?”

“Maybe because I was expecting company.”

“Tell me I’m it.”

She smiled. “Besides, you’re a guy.”

“And I’ve never been more grateful.”

On the fireplace mantel were photos of her parents and a graduation shot of her in cap and gown with a smiling Morris Stern beside her. He followed her into the kitchen, her sensuous body making the emerald sheath look liquid as she walked.

“Red or white?” She directed him to a small wine rack on top of the refrigerator.

He removed a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and opened it while she got the glasses from a cabinet. Then he filled the glasses and they clinked. “Lovely, dark, and deep.”

“The wine?”

“Your eyes.”

“You’re sweet.” She took his arm and walked him to the couch. “So, what did you think of Reverend Mr. Gladstone?”

Zack settled beside her. “Besides his capacity for wind, he seems to carry a lot of weight.”

“Without him, there’d be no lab.”

“He also believes he’s about to find the Promised Land.”

“I suppose that’s the televangelist in him.”

“Except he expects me to point the way,” Zack said. “Just what kind of NDEs does he hope for me to have?”

“I don’t think anything in particular.”

“I mean, I’ve been suspended four times, and all I can remember is crawling out of a sand hole and playing ball with my father, then following him into some woods. Not exactly a life review and angels of light.”

“Except each run yields new data about what goes on in NDEs.”

“That’s my point: if I had bona fide NDEs. I mean, I didn’t feel separated from my body, looking down at myself like a seagull. And I didn’t pass through any tunnels toward godlight.”

“You also said that they didn’t feel like regular dreams.”

“Yeah, I still wouldn’t say they were supernatural. Just very realistic dreams.”

“Elizabeth thinks you experienced transcendence.”

“But everything I’ve read, including Gladstone’s book, talks about unconditional love and tranquillity. I didn’t get that. Plus I was younger and so was my father, and he wasn’t any being of light.”

“So what are you saying?”

“That maybe Dr. Stern’s right. Maybe it’s all from inside my own head, and nothing else.” His only explanation for the root beer logo thing was sheer coincidence—that the image had been buried in his brain, tweaked while in suspension, so that he came out thirsty and craving a frosty A&W. As for the nightmares of being buried in sand, he blamed that on the anesthetic—that and how his brain had suffered trauma from the bike accident, followed by weeks in a chemically induced coma.

“That’s entirely possible, which is why she wants more tests, if you’re still willing.”

“I’ve got bills up to here, so I’m willing.” But he still felt torn. Despite the wide-eyed speculations about the afterlife and cosmic sentience, he couldn’t help thinking that he was part of a very expensive exercise in pseudoscience. It reminded him of those Discovery Channel shows about alien visitations, with scientists holding forth with sweet-smelling endorsements. Of course, he didn’t say that. Nor did he mention how he’d like to get back to those woods and find out what his dream “father” wanted to tell him.

“Let’s see how you do on Thursday.”

After a second glass of wine, Sarah lowered her head onto his shoulder. In a few moments, they were kissing and fondling each other. After a spell, she began to unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest. “You know what?” he whispered.

“What?”

“I’m starting to believe in transcendence.”