The Temporal (3 page)

Looking around, Sam thought he had to be in the States. The buildings up and down the street were American style with English lettering. But something was wrong. There was smoke, confusion, and a teary-eyed mother searching frantically for her child. An explosion. Screams. Some horn was blasting, building in volume and depth. Sam arched his neck in the direction of the sound. A creeping darkness encroached upon the
corners of his field of vision like an old-time photograph.

Something was terribly wrong.

Another explosion. More screams. A gaggle of people ran down the street toward him. In the distance beyond them, there was a ball of fire consuming everything in its path—as high as the sky, as wide as the buildings containing it. It grew larger heading—no, aiming—directly for Sam. His legs defied the command to move. He threw up his arms in a futile attempt to fire-proof his face.

Sam awoke with a gasp of air and labored breathing. He was in a hospital room, and through the half-curtained window, he could see it was a moonless night. A bathroom light above the mirror gave the room a subtle illumination—the kind that make shadows seem to be more than shadows.

He noticed there was an
antique night drawer opposite of the bathroom. The large sliding door to the room was closed. A thin, translucent bag in the trash can near the door twitched ever so slightly. There must be a draft, he thought. But then his eyes and ears made out a fan on the floor quietly circulating the air.

As his breathing returned to normal, he heard a voice to his left. A woman
’s voice was speaking quickly and softly. He could only recognize scattered Japanese words here and there.

“
Ikanakereba naranai
—I must go...”

He turned but saw nothing.

Another voice, this time of an older man, came from the direction of the window. Sam jerked his head quickly, adjusting his eyes to the darkness. He heard one word:

“
Shinu
—die?”

Just then, the door cracked, and he heard a third voice say,
“
Shitsurei shimasu
.” The door slid open fully. A man, very much real, walked in. The bathroom mixed its dull light with the bright hallway and Sam could see the well-lit contours of a doctor.

“
Ah, you are awake. We were very worried.”

Sam watched a shadowy
arm reach for the wall plate and snap the room’s light switch on. The fluorescent fixtures above buzzed to life, creating a suddenly bright but stale atmosphere in the room. The impeccably clean walls, ceiling, and even bed sheets were pure white, making Sam feel like he was either in an insane asylum or else stranded in the Arctic. Despite the comfortable room temperature, he instinctively pulled the blanket tighter.

Sam squin
ted his eyes and looked at the doctor. The man also dressed completely in white appeared to be in his mid-forties; his still dark hair had only minute gray accents at the temples. To complete the picture, he wore a stethoscope draped around his neck and smiled broadly. He seemed pleased to be there.

“
Doctor, wh... what’s going on? Where am I?”

“
You were very lucky. Do you remember earthquake?” The doctor continued with his smile and seemed to have the habit of raising his left eyebrow like Mister Spock when speaking.

Sam was unclear
what happened at the beach, but yes, he nodded, it must have been an earthquake.

“
It was
shindo
six—on the Richter scale, I don’t know, but it was big,” he said, raising an eyebrow in emphasis. “We found you the next day. In fact, how do you say, the center of the earthquake was close where you were, maybe exactly where you were. A small hole opened under you and things fell over you. We had dogs and one of them found you. There was some fear of the tsunami but it’s okay now.”

The doctor
’s smile didn’t fail. He was very pleased that his English was being put to such good use. It was fairly rare for the doctor to have a patient with whom he could practice his English. It was a small village and the tourists were usually healthy.

“
Ah, pardon me. I am Doctor Watanabe. And more important, you seem to be in good shape. You have some bruised ribs and mild dehydration, but considering, you are in excellent health. I’m not sure why you were out so long—I did not find any evidence of head trauma. Just be sure to drink plenty of water.”

Next to a pitcher on the side table was an upside-down cup. The doctor flipped it over and poured Sam a drink.

Sam took the small cup and drained it in one gulp. For a few moments, he just looked at the empty cup unable to process what had happened.

“
Are you all right?” The doctor’s smile changed to a concerned frown. “Do you have any pain?”

Sam shook his head and focused his eyes and mind on the current situation. The earthquake made sense; the voices did not.

“No.
Arigatou
. I’m fine. Doctor, are... are there other people in this room?”

Dr. Watanabe seemed puzzled at first, but quickly stooped under the bed and obligingly peeked in the closet.

“Nope. I believe we are alone.”

“
I know this sounds crazy, but I heard a woman over there and an older man at the window just before you came in.”

The doctor
’s big smile returned.

“
I’m sure you heard a patient in the next room. This is an old hospital. The walls are quite thin. We Japanese have a saying, ‘The walls have ears and the paper walls have eyes.’ Better not tell any secrets here!”

With that he gave a big chuckle. He told Sam to get some rest and that he would be around in the morning. A nurse would be on hand if needed. Her English wasn
’t great, he said, but better than the day nurse’s.

Sam, slightly reassured, smiled back. The doctor turned off the
bathroom light, and as he slipped out, he pulled the door shut. “
Shitsurei shimasu
,” Sam heard muffled from the hallway.

Sam closed his eyes, half expecting to hear the previous conversation continue. It didn
’t, and Sam soon drifted off into a deep and pleasant sleep.

“
Samuel Williams-san?”

Not being sure if the velvety voice was that of an angel or someone from the other side of the thin walls, Sam opened his eyes with caution. It was all a blur, but it was daylight, and he could make out the figure of a
Japanese woman in a kimono standing in the doorway of his hospital room. His eyes were still adjusting, but even without his glasses, he knew he was looking at a beautiful woman in her late twenties. Even so, her bearing was that of a far more mature lady.

“
Samuel, can you hear me.”

“
Yes. Sorry. I... Do I know you?”

He didn
’t like admitting the fact that he had no clue who she was. She certainly wasn’t dressed as a nurse and her English pronunciation was spot on. He thought about what the doctor had said and decided she couldn’t be the day nurse. A pleasant thought crossed his mind: Perhaps he was suffering from a mild case of amnesia like in the movies. Maybe this was his girlfriend? His wife? Did they have children?

“
No, we have never met.”

Sam couldn
’t help but let out an unhappy sigh.

She was calmly composed, and yet
Sam saw in her eyes a sense of extreme relief as if she had just discovered some long lost treasure. The corners of her mouth turned ever so slightly, forming a reassuring smile when she spoke.

“
I am Suteko.”

Sam noticed his glasses on the side table. Amazingly, they not only survived the earthquake intact, but seemed to be in bet
ter shape than before. He ran his fingers over the cool metal and decided someone must have cleaned the lenses and straightened the frames while he was out.

He put the glasses on and noticed she had advanced to the bedrail. She was indeed beautiful.

Sam thought how some women were beautiful at a distance—imperfections obscured by space and poor eyesight. Others, more rarely, became more beautiful the closer they were. She was of the latter.

There was something else.
She seemed familiar, nostalgic even.

He thought of a reoccurring dream he
’d had since childhood. In the dream, there was a woman standing and welcoming him, always smiling. He would never see her face—or at least he would never remember her face upon waking—but he knew her intimately. Within each dream, Sam experienced an overwhelming sense of love—a love incorporating all the connotations of the word from the basest to the highest form: lust—admiration—devotion—mania—all-encompassing—totally unconditional—love.

He would have the same dream every few months. While married he felt ashamed and tried his best to stop the dream both out of a desire to be true to his vows and because he knew he would never feel that full intensity in real life.

He certainly couldn’t say for sure that she was the woman in his dreams, but this was the first time the dream came to mind when meeting someone.

Stumbling, he
said, “I... I’m Sam Williams. Oh, but I guess you know that. How do you know that?”

Widening her smile slightly, Suteko squinted her eyes. Her hands were cupped in front, lightly touching her obi belt. Her hair was down and rested on one shoulder. The kimono was tight and brightly colored.  She was elegance in person. She, competing with the sun, filled the room with warmth. It was the same warmth Sam felt in his reoccurring dream. It was an incubating warmth, a cocoon, a desirable warming even during the hot August in Japan.

“Tell me Sam, have you noticed anything... unusual?” She looked up and in, deep into his eyes.

Sam
’s smile faded. He had almost forgotten about that awful dream and those voices of the previous night. The doctor’s explanation of the sounds of patients next door seemed so plausible the night before. Now, he could not be so sure.

He remembered the man
’s voice at the window. Pulling himself up—his ribs were merciless—he fumbled off the bed. Stumbling more than walking, he maneuvered to the window. His room was several floors up. He had thought perhaps he was on the ground floor and the voice was of a midnight stroller in the garden. There was no garden.

Sam
’s eyes widened; his hand tugged his chin.

“
You’ve heard something, haven’t you?”

Lost in thought, her voice startled him. Sam dropped his shoulders and raised his hands instructively.

“The doctor did say the walls were thin.”

“
Sam, you heard the Echoes of Eternity. That’s what I like to call them.”

“
Echoes?”

“
It is similar to what many call déjà vu. The Echoes that you experienced are a... more complete variant of this phenomenon.”

“
What?”

“
Do not be alarmed. You will come to find them... comforting even. You are never alone even after a hundred years of wandering. You can hear them best when relaxed and focused. In time, you will be able to almost call them on command.”

Sam began to feel uncomfortable like a sinner in a pew hearing a sermon he knew was inspired by his actions.

“Who are you? What are you talking about?”

“
I am a friend. The voices are echoes of the past—or the future. The past is set, but the future voices can change. At least that is how it is from our earthly perspective. I believe it is hearing and sometimes seeing the temporal past or future from the viewpoint of eternity. Eternity is existence outside the bounds of time—”

“
Wait, look lady, I’m not into this paranormal type of discussion. I...”

“
You have dreamt of me, haven’t you?”

Sam quieted down in complete submission. He was a schoolboy seated before his teacher, his first crush.

She walked around his bed, moving past him and stopping at the window. Pulling back the curtains fully, a flood of light instantly covered the room. With her back to Sam, she touched the glass, and leaning, she peered out as if looking for something.

“
It’s not paranormal in the sense of psychics or aliens. In fact, I would argue it is more normal than the strict materialist’s limited viewpoint of what they call ‘normal.’ You believe in intelligence don’t you? You believe in the laws of nature and the laws of logic? These are things that are beyond the material. Things you can’t touch, smell, taste, or hear and yet they are without question real. These are things with perfect order and are universal, existing everywhere equally. I’m not talking about little green men; I’m talking about the true reality—the perspective from eternity.”

She let her hands fall to her sides and then turned to face Sam.

“You did hear voices, didn’t you?”

“
Yes.”

“
Tell me, how did it happen? When did this all start?”

Sam told her of the earthquake and the eerie yet lucid memory of his first moments of life. Unconscious tears began to snake around his nose. He did not know why, but he felt no shame.

Pressing one hand on her wrist to hold the sleeves in place, she gently touched his shoulder with the other. Somehow this simple touch filled his being with comfort.

“
I don’t know all the answers, but I believe that we are able to hear these voices because at least for that moment, time holds us prisoners no more. The past, present, and future that we and others experience within time are all viewed from an eternal present.”

“
Why did the voices say what they said to me? Was it a message directed at me?” Sam asked.

“
The voices are like tape recordings of past or future events of people and things in a particular location. We cannot interact with them, but knowing the time and place can teach us much.”

She wanted to tell him more, but she sensed he couldn
’t take it. The tears were rolling down Sam’s face. He never cried in public, not since he was ten going to camp and leaving his parents for the first time. He, too, realized he was absorbing too much, too fast.

It wasn
’t just facts he was absorbing. He was experiencing a metamorphosis. The warm cocoon spun by Suteko. Growing pains. Changes. His mind still battling with that something deeper, suddenly gave up and let go.

“
Rest, Sam. I will come again tomorrow. We have much work to do and not a lot of time.”

She led him back to the bed and he sat down.

“I thought we were dealing with eternity—existence outside time?”

“
You are a quick study. Alas, our existence is on this earth in time, the temporal. I suppose the Echoes help us cheat a little, but being temporal beings, we are still bound by time.”

“
I... I have slept so much and yet I am exhausted. But I don’t want you to leave. I don’t understand...”

Seeing the exhaustion in his eyes, she pulled back the sheets and gently encouraged him to lie down.

“It is all right, Sam. I am here. Close your eyes.”

She stroked his hair softly with the tips of her fingernails, the same way his mother did when putting him to bed as a child.
He closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

“
Rest.”

She was still there when Sam awoke hours later. Their eyes met in silence for what seemed to be minutes.

“You never answered my question,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “How is it you knew my name and knew about me? Was it the voices?”

“
No, Samuel, those who spoke the voices never knew we would hear them. We cannot interact with them.”

She turned toward a beautiful plant
on a table near the bed. Sam had not noticed it before. He wondered if someone brought it in while he was out. Did she bring it in? She spoke to the plant.

“
Like you, I’ve had a reoccurring dream. There has been a particular dream that has given me more comfort than anything else.”

“
What is the dream about?”

Suteko turned back toward Sam and leaned over him.

“You.”