Mind Diver

Chapter Three

Gillian held her breath for a moment. “What was it?”

Audrey’s eyes seemed to glaze briefly, then cleared. “A shimmer of coruscating light; it seemed to come in intervals. On a whim, Vern threw a small stone into the shimmer and it disappeared completely. Vern got excited and pulled out an old bullet shell he’d kept from his days in the Phoenix police force and threw it into the shimmer.”

“And it was gone too?”

Audrey nodded her head and smiled grimly. “Oh yes, it vanished all right. When the shimmer disappeared, Vern knelt and passed his hand through the soil: nothing, no sign of the shell at all. Vern got really excited. He came up with the theory that this shimmer was some sort of space-time rift, a portal of sorts; that any object thrown into the light would find its way to its time of origin. Mind you, my husband was a big science fiction fan: both books and media. And he had a vivid imagination, too. Nothing he theorized is based on fact or research, just a very creative imagination. In truth, I have no idea what that phenomena is.”

“But the mind-diving,” Gillian said, shrugging her shoulders, open palms imploring, “where did that idea come from?”

Audrey Maher grinned sheepishly. “That was my theory: a little bit of fantastical extrapolation expanding on my husband’s wild conjecture. After he passed away, I just couldn’t stop thinking about what we’d discovered together in that cave. It became a kind of obsession, perhaps a way to keep my husband’s essence with me. I don’t know. Still, to my limited knowledge nothing like mind-diving could be possible. I’m no physicist, but I kind of understand string theory. I mean if this shimmer is a time-travel rift, then God only knows where one would end up if one were to step into it! I hate to admit this, but I only agreed to appear on that talk show to drum up business for my shop.”

Gillian fell silent. The crazy idea had held so much hope, absurd as it had been, as she had made ready for her flight, as she’d endured the inane conversation of her garrulous seatmate and as she’d ridden in the taxi. She’d been anticipating an assurance from this woman that she, Gillian McDaniel, could mind-dive into another life and thus escape all that lay ahead of her in this one. Now that hope, fleeting after all, had been kicked out from under her and she found herself hanging once again from a noose of doom.

“I’d still like to try,” Gillian said, the words riding a slow, weary sigh.

Audrey shook her head, fear lighting her eyes. “I can’t. I’d be responsible for your fate! You’d no doubt disappear, maybe into some void for all we know!”

Gillian slammed the flat of her hand on the table, sloshing a bit of coffee from cup into saucer. “But you’d still be responsible for leaving me to this fate!” she said. “Believe, after learning what I’m about to face in a few months, I’d rather be swallowed up by some unknown merciful void.” Gillian sank the fingers of both hands through her hair at the scalp, head bowed. “I’m sorry for being so dramatic,” she said calmly as she brought her face up to meet Audrey Maher’s. “But you see, I’m also quite desperate. I don’t care if this rift-shimmer of yours kills me. I’m as good as dead, or I will be in a few months. You’ve got to help me, outlandish as this theory of yours might sound.”