Flawed Membranes and Lots of Sex

Dr. Heinz came into the waiting room, greeted them warmly and led them back to his office in the social sciences building. He was relatively tall, a little shorter than Keith, but very Germanic in his demeanor and speech. His English was nuanced and very fluent although he had retained a rather strong German accent. When she heard him speak, Cynthia thought of Henry Kissinger's heavy brogue.

Dr. Heinz stated that he had found the experience of character illumination very intriguing since very few clients had undergone a similar distortion of visual cognition (they were adjusting to his technical discourse). Until he had conducted some experiments and done routine physical examinations, he would not be able to comment on Cynthia's disorder at the present time. Would she be available for testing?

During the week, Cynthia's schedule was extremely busy; sometimes, she was required to work late. What's more, she could not get another day off to undergo tests for extra sensory visualization...seeing aurae around men! She had taken one of her "sick" days to see Dr. Heinz today.

"Would it be possible to run the tests on Saturday?" She asked hesitantly.

"Normally, our staff do not perform routine testing on weekends, but I might convince a few graduate students to volunteer." Dr. Heinz affirmed.

"Oh that would be wonderful, Dr. Heinz." Her face almost glowed when he confirmed the possibility.

"I'll make inquiries and give you a call later today. In the meantime, Dr. Shafer will give you a series of physical and mental exams as a preliminary phase of our examination."

Keith was instructed to wait in the patients' lounge; in an hour, Cynthia returned with Dr. Shafer who wished her the best. "I'll provide a detailed report in a few days, but I didn't see any abnormalities either physical or mental in my tests. Oh, by the way, Mr. MacIntosh, Cynthia mentioned that you were also invested with this paranormal ability to see women surrounded by aurae. Would you be willing to be tested as well?"

Keith was a little surprised but assented. He might be able to get off during the week, but he would have to check with his boss first. He would call her secretary to make an appointment. If possible, maybe they could both come in on a Saturday at similar times.

"How was it?" Keith asked as they were leaving the laboratory building.

"Frankly, it was more an intelligence and perception test than a true physical. I had to answer a lot of questions about color differentiation, identifying light flashes and various geographical shapes, and stuff like that. I guess they want to know if I'm sane or off-center." Cynthia seemed more confused than reassured.

"They're just eliminating neurological problems that might be producing our 'visions,' " Keith said on a positive note.

"Let's get out of here and take a walk in Central Park or somewhere with trees, sun, and a little wind."

"Picnic maybe? Let's drop by the delicatessen and get some food."

In Central Park they had spread their colored table cloth on the grass; they were enjoying red wine and sandwiches in the shade of a large tree. They lay back, watching the joggers and walkers go by in a continuous stream of health seekers. Illumination and irrational choices seemed far away. Cynthia lay with her head in Keith's lap, and watched the clouds march across the sky.

Her smart phone buzzed. She sat up and said, "I hope this isn't Frances at the office." Her expression changed and darkened a bit.

"Guess what? It's Greg. He claims he's somewhere in Central Park with his children and would like to drop by and say hello."

"Can he see us?" Keith asked.

"I don't know. Maybe with binoculars. I can't see any aura in the distance. Do you want me to say yes or no? This would spoil a great afternoon." Cynthia peered all around and even stood up for a better view.

"He's probably a cool guy, hard to dislike. This will be your call...unless, you want us all to get together and decide if we want to live in a modified version of a ménage � trois. Maybe getting together at a café for starters." Keith looked at her with a questioning tilt to his head.

"What about his kids? Divorcé or just fooling around? Not nice that." Cynthia was getting visibly irritated. "What the hell is this so-called power I've--we've got? Why the sudden appearance of this creature from Hell in the subway? This is getting more and more like a medieval morality play."

Cynthia put off committing for the time being. She commented very briefly; "Hi. Let's talk about this later. Cynthia." He would be back in touch of course. She was curious about who he was and how they would react, but it just wasn't the moment.

"Keith, I'm so sorry. I have feelings for you, very much so. We're trapped in some diabolical quandary that forces us to choose between two equally acceptable partners. It's a form of punishment, not any kind of reward."

Keith and Cynthia walked for a long while in the park, talking about their dilemma and sympathizing with each other.

"Let's try my place," Keith said. "He might know where you live."

"Okay. But I'll need some clothes first of all. And I want you with me on the subway."

Luckily, Keith was able to schedule an appointment at the same time as Cynthia's with Dr. Heinz on Saturday. At least, being tested together would let them communicate if necessary during the procedures. This would be a major step forward in their search for answers to the mysterious condition that had distorted their perception of human relations.

Greg had postponed texting Cynthia for a few days but he was standing by the bank of elevators Thursday morning during the rush of employees to get to their offices. He was still immersed in a pinkish corona which made him stand out. Cynthia had no choice but to stop and speak to him.

"Hi. Let's makes this quick because I have to get to the office."

"Me too. Sorry about not texting but children can be distracting. Are you serious about getting together? If so, we can make arrangements. I would like to know more about you."

"Okay. No promises. Text me about who you are and what's your current situation. I'm not interested in complicated marital subterfuges." Cynthia began to move toward an open elevator.

He waved good bye and walked toward the revolving entrance door.

She had to admit that he was very attractive and seemed to fit the mold of a New York corporate lawyer. Probably Ivy League with impeccable credentials. Obviously dealing with a spouse, either current or divorced with children. Not a neat situation. Could even be messy. Why me? He could get a date anytime, anywhere in this city.

Cynthia texted Keith: "Good morning. Slept really well next to my guy. Question: Greg, the lawyer, texted and wants to make contact. He works in the same building so can't avoid him. Suggestions?"

In a few minutes, Keith answered: "Really busy here. Can we meet for lunch at our Greek restaurant nearby? Noonish? Need to talk this through. Let me know. K."

Cynthia arrived at Soros Palace around twelve o'clock and found Keith sitting at a table near the front door. They kissed lightly and held hands at the table. Since they had eaten there before, Cynthia knew what she wanted. After ordering, Keith looked at her and said, "So cyber clone has gotten in touch again. How do you feel? Too risky or too tempting?"

"He's a good-looking guy, sort of cookie-cutter Ivy League type, dealing with ex-spouse and kids...or a spouse and kids. He's going to text me today and clear all this up."

"So you want to meet and sample his goods? Let's suppose he's really sexy in bed and does kinkier things than I do. Should I think about an exit strategy?" Keith had crossed his arms impatiently.

"Don't be crude. You know I didn't look for him. It's a curse in a sense. I frankly don't know how to handle this. That's why I'm turning to you, Keith. If I do see him, do you run or will you stay until something has been arranged?"

"Arranged? You mean what night I get to sleep with you...sort of a rotating system? Or a true ménage � trois...provided he's not attached...deciding what TV show to watch or whose turn it is to shop? "

Cynthia began to cry very softly,, covering her eyes. Keith reached across and put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we can work this out. Nothing's been decided. My read: why don't you put him off until we've finished the parapsychological tests? There has to be a reason we're having these visions with perfectly compatible strangers.

"In my case, if I see an 'illuminated woman,' we'll take the same approach. Discuss, delay, and comply with strict rules and regulations. I don't want to lose you, and quite frankly I don't want you sleeping with a guy in the same bed as we do or even nearby where I can witness or hear your euphoria."

Cynthia interrupted, "I couldn't sit back and watch you go through the shower routine with a beautiful stranger, with me waiting in line for sexual favors. I agree. We need to know what the hell is going on. This is a disease, not a means of finding a sex mate or partner."

They hugged and went back to their offices with evening plans already in place. Cynthia was relieved not to see Greg in the elevator waiting area. However, she did receive his text later in the afternoon: "Greg here. I can give you a call if you like and fill you in. Short form: Yale Law School, age 34, married but getting a divorce, shared custody of kids, no massive debts, liked what I saw in the lobby, you had a golden aura of sorts. Strange. Need to get together and see if we click. Confirm or let me know otherwise. G."

Cynthia hesitated for a few hours and then, toward the end of work day, she answered: "Currently involved with someone. Would like to hear more about your situation. Let's wait until next Monday to decide. Some weird things going on. C."

She filled Keith in on her conversation with Gary and her decision to postpone their meeting. "This is going to be a muddy swamp," Keith commented. "I don't have a good feeling about what's happening."

Saturday's tests went well for both of them. Keith was given a series of mental perception tests that required parapsychological skills and another battery of neurological exams to determine if there were any abnormalities in his cerebral system. Cynthia went through similar testing that focused on any capacity to visualize colored umbrae or coronae around objects. After a good hour and a half, Dr. Heinz led them into his office for a debriefing of what had been found.

"In general, you are both perfectly 'normal' individuals; there was little evidence of visual malformations or hypersensitivity that might evoke these colorations.

On the psychological side, you are both single and seeking partners; this could be responsible in part for your wish to find the appropriate person to share your life with, hence the colorized coronae that singled out a given person whom you found attractive and available. As it happens many times, you most likely projected your wish for stability and compatibility onto the recipient

"In brief, until I have had the opportunity to analyze your blood samples, I can only say that your perceptual difficulties are most likely generated by a deep psychological wish to connect with a certain man or woman whom you assume possesses similar traits and values."

Keith sighed and thought: this is bull shit in technical jargon. I know Cynthia is not hallucinating or projecting her wishes on a complete stranger. I know that I'm not doing anything unusual or crazy. There has to be a better explanation. We are either victims of a bizarre neural failure or we are being possessed by an external force that gives us this power to select compatible individuals out of a crowd. It comes from a dark source. But why us? Why were we chosen for this ability?

After thanking Dr. Heinz and his assistants, Cynthia and Keith headed back to his apartment more confused than enlightened. Instead of being curious or intrigued by their "gifts," they were now afraid of what might occur if they acted upon the colorized selection of partners. Caution had to be exercised; every individual had to be vetted in depth for now on. Strangers were becoming potential dangers...an attitude they both despised.

Who was the malevolent creature on the subway? How did Cynthia manage to see this grotesque figure and Keith had never had a similar negative experience?

In Keith's apartment, Cynthia got a call from her sister. "How did it go? Are you two aliens or just regular human beings?" Cynthia looked at Keith and indicated she was talking to her sister, Marcia.

"Pretty good. We're not going to be put in cages like lab rats. We pretty much got a clean slate from Dr. Heinz. The specialists are still trying to find out why we've suddenly become visionaries."

"Are you free now? My friend Brad is big into this sort of thing. He even thinks we're encompassed by an invisible membrane that occasionally breaks open and exposes us to another dimension.

"Before you ask--no, he's not weird; Brad is very, very bright. Has a doctorate in theoretical physics from M. I. T. He says he'd like to meet you. We could come to your place, talk a little or a lot, and go out to eat. What say?"

Cynthia said a few words to Keith who nodded. "Okay. Say in about an hour for drinks?"

Cynthia informed Keith that her sister was the woman he saw sitting next to her at the bar. She had a degree from Penn in mathematics. She was super smart, a real brainiac.

Brad was tall, lanky, and very intellectual-looking. Marcia was about Cynthia's height, brunette, pretty with very deep brown eyes. According to Cynthia, she was a little older, athletic, and enjoyed horseback riding.

"So you two really met because of some supernatural cloud hovering over you?" Marcia was sipping at her drink and Brad was silent but listening intently.

Cynthia went through their initial encounter and the subsequent events; she even mentioned the man on the subway who had terrified her. Both Brad and Marcia peppered her with questions about their experiences: what colors were involved, their texture, their own emotional reactions, physical appearance, time of day, etc.?

Keith was impressed by the breadth of knowledge that Brad displayed about the paranormal. On the other hand, Marcia was trying to determine if Keith were one of these predators who was going to break her sister's heart or even something worse. They all agreed after a while that this paranormal occurrence was weird and at first glance impossible to explain.

Brad agreed to consult with a paranormal expert who had authored several books on the link between perceptual reality and the alternative universe. Many people had been subject to visual phenomena that science couldn't explain by traditional means.

When Keith asked Brad if he had even heard of something similar to their "visualizations," he replied that psychiatric inmates often claimed a connection with strangers they had never met. The "relationships" were friendly and not hostile for the most part. There didn't seem to be any reciprocity, however; the targeted strangers didn't feel any attraction to the psychiatric patients.

Keith was also puzzled by the fact that a year ago, even two months ago neither Cynthia nor he had experienced anything comparable. Prior to these revelations, their "dates" had been mutually agreed upon--both parties were fully cooperative--or set up by friends. Compatibility was not guaranteed as they both could attest.

Marcia moved closer to Cynthia, took her hand and said, "This is beyond me, Sis. Be careful with this Greg fellow. He's probably a ladies' man and trolling for easy conquests. It's never simple with children involved."

Cynthia looked at Marcia and said, "That's good advice. Keith and I have decided to be extra careful."

Brad agreed that although these corona markers had been friendly and seductive, Cynthia had been introduced to the dark side of their power. It opened the door to the occult that was beyond reason and science. How many other grotesque creatures would surface at the least expected moment? Cynthia wondered.

They all went out to a neighborhood restaurant and continued to talk about what had happened. Cynthia clutched at Keith's arm for comfort. Marcia continued to eye Keith with suspicion. He could feel her hostility and made a note to bring this up with Cynthia.

As they went back to Cynthia's apartment, some darkly dressed men, speaking a language that Keith didn't understand, rushed by them on the sidewalk. He had a foreboding sense of danger that he knew was exaggerated and ill-founded. Dark spirits were following them in the night...really? This was absurd.

In bed, Cynthia and Keith held each other closely; for the first time since they had met, they were satisfied with lying together and not seducing their partner as an affirmation of love. Warmth and togetherness had replaced sexuality for the evening.

Cynthia spent a few hours the following day researching paranormal effects on the Internet. Like Keith, she was overwhelmed with scientific speculation and the unsubstantiated anecdotes about aliens, satanic forces, ghostly creatures, parallel universes, zombies, vampires, et al. Frustrated, she lay her head down on the table and sighed deeply. Keith whispered in her ear, "We'll find an explanation. There is a way out of this."

On Monday, Cynthia found herself immersed in work at the office. Keith had spent a part of the weekend trying to discover a common threat between their "visions." Greg had texted her again but she had ignored his calls. She wasn't ready to get involved in a new "courtship."

Later in the afternoon, Keith texted her, "Brief but pertinent questions: Have you ever been married and divorced? Looking for a common thread. K."

The question stunned her. Had he been doing an online search into her personal life?

"Is this relevant? Yes, once when I younger. What about you? C."

Keith replied almost immediately, "Yes, that was a while back when I was in Quebec. Beautiful Quebec girl, very young. Will provide details if needed. K."

"I was nineteen and a sophomore at Tufts. He was older and a grad student at Harvard," Cynthia admitted. "We had one thing in common at that time: we were infatuated with sex. Later we discovered we had very little else in common. It lasted about a year. C."

"Interesting," Keith answered. "Similar situation. We confused sexuality with love. We couldn't get an official divorce in Quebec. Catholic Church's disapproval. Got a civil divorce in New York. At about same age as you did. We split up just before I enrolled in Princeton. K."

"Is divorce the common denominator? C."

"Maybe. Greg, you say, is divorcing and has children. None of us have kids. Dr. Heinz may have been on to something. The lighted coronae are linked to a deep wish for a compatible mate... K."

"I've gotta run. The paperwork is piling up. Late dinner? My place with KFC (wow!) that I'll pick up. My fingers are getting tired. Bye. C."

Cynthia pondered their situation: how could anything as common as divorce be the source of this paranormal phenomenon? Millions of people all over the world had been divorced. She hadn't heard any reports about the coloration of potential mates that guided the choices of divorcés. Ridiculous.

Her phone buzzed again. This time Brad was texting; he had gotten her number from Marcia.

"Give me a call when you can. I may have something interesting. Brad."

A half-hour later Greg texted her for the third time today. Cynthia grew very impatient, but she would try to discourage him with a curt answer.

"Busy today. Question: Is this the first or second time you've divorced? How many kids? I need a very stable guy. C."