Mind Diver

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

They sat in Audrey Maher’s sun-bright kitchen, two cups of coffee and a dish of store-bought bear claws between them. Gillian hadn’t touched the pastries, but Audrey had nervously shred one bear claw into ragged wedges.

Audrey Maher had built her shop onto the front of her small, tidy cottage. The kitchen window offered a clear view of plateaus and red rock formations in the distance. Gillian’s gaze occasionally shifted to the vista outside as they spoke. The stoic timelessness of the mountains seemed to calm her.

Audrey shook her head slowly, her eyes bright with moisture. “Lou Gehrig’s disease – but you’re so young. Aren’t there any treatments available?”

Gillian glanced quickly out the window, and then returned her gaze to Audrey. “Not much – or at least, nothing that would save my life. And certainly, I have no intention of prolonging my eventual suffering. Even if I knew I had many years left to me, I’d rather be dead than suffer systematic paralysis. I’m not Steven Hawking, with a great intellect to sustain me through such disability. I want to continue to lead a physically active life as well. Shallow, I know – but it’s a quality of life issue for me.” Then, letting go with a firm huff of breath, “That’s why you must help me.”

Audrey let loose a quick sigh of her own. “But how? If you mean mind-diving then I’m afraid I must disappoint you: I don’t even know if it will work!”

“It hasn’t been...done?” Gillian said, blinking. She had assumed that mind-diving might be possible, that someone had actually traversed time – or at least, it was what she’d hoped. “How – why – would you even mention such a thing to anyone?”

Audrey rolled her eyes and sighed again. “You can chalk that one up to...oh...self-aggrandizement or ego I suppose – or maybe just a loose tongue. I only mentioned the subject briefly to a few of my closest friends – or so I thought they were my closest friends. How was I to know they’d go blabbing to some tabloid talk-show producer?” She paused, and then frowned; chin resting upon her clasped hands. “I have to confess, though, that when the show’s producers interviewed me...I may have mentioned some brief little blurb about it. But when they insisted I talk more about it, I told them that I had nothing to substantiate the theory of mind-diving and that I preferred the subject not be discussed publicly. They gave me their word that nothing further would be said about mind-diving. I just wasn’t show-business savvy enough to realize that nothing said to anyone in that business is confidential. So, I suppose the show’s host thought the subject might lead to an interesting discussion between the other guests. I have to admit, they were incredible boors. I suppose I shouldn’t blame the woman for trying to entice them into a spirited debate on channeling. My big mouth!” Audrey tucked in her lower lip and shook her head.

“Where did you get the idea of mind-diving, anyway? Why would you even think it possible?”

“Nine years ago,” Audrey began, glancing briefly out the window, “my husband – he passed away three years ago – and I were exploring the ruins of pueblos built by the Sinagua Indians in Tuzigoot in the Verde Valley. We found a small cave – maybe used by the Hohokam before the Sinagua came and settled Tuzigoot. Anyway, we felt a kind of...I don’t know...a kind of eerie feeling, waves of nausea whenever we grew close to the end of the tunnel. I have to tell you, it took a lot of coaxing by Vern – my husband – to get me closer to the source of that queasiness. What we saw, though, made the nausea disappear, or rather, it scared the shit out of me…excuse my language.”