Authors: John Strauchs
“Tell me a secret, Darling.
Tell me something no one else knows,” said Jenny.
She was thinking. “Tell me something about……about…black holes.”
The question was surprising.
“Why black holes?” asked Jared.
“I just thought of it. Its something no scientists understand, isn’t it?”
“OK. Black holes! As I have said before, infinity is the universal constant. Nothing is the smallest.
Nothing is the biggest.
Our universe is only a still point in time.
Time is infinite. Black holes are composed of undiscovered energy and matter that only
attract gravitation forces at the quantum level. Gravity, as you will remember from your
college physics, is both matter and energy.
For want of any better term, let’s call this
force the Jared Force.
It locks up gravitational force.
It binds with it. Gravity is one of
the weakest forces in the universe but when it is concentrated by being bound by the
Jared Force, it becomes the strongest force in the universe.
Gravity isn’t one force, but
rather the resultant vector of multiple quantum forces that connect continuously to infinite distances. Everything is connected to everything else at this level.”
Jared continued. “Einstein almost had it. His work on a unifying theory was within his reach.
Had he lived I am confident that he would have gotten it.
It is so simple.
Energy equals mass times gravity cubed, E = M x G
3,
for each interacting dimension. It is
that simple. Black holes have so much force that they draw in all energy and matter.
They draw in time itself. They constantly create new universes in new and infinite dimensions.
Hawking and others have estimated that 96% of our universe cannot be accounted for.
The missing substance is the dark matter that streams into and out of the
black holes, swimming from dimension to dimension, universe to universe.”
The lecture went on. “As you know very well, all things in the universe tend toward uniformity and stability.
That does not mean, however, that all things are uniform
and stable now.
Boulders are broken and ground into stones.
Stones are ground into
sand, and sand is ground into dust—over time.
And so on,
ad infinitum
.
Ours is a very
young universe. We were just born—cosmically speaking. And, everything is chemistry.
Everything!
Chemistry is the natural binding—the joining—of the stuff of the universe.
The universe is like oil and water.
Oil and water don’t mix well.
You will not have a
homogeneous liquid as long as the components remain oil and water. The oil will gather
on the surface and begin to coalesce into small and large pools, binding together.
Wind
and wave action will disperse the oil pools.
Some will join with other pools, making
larger pools. Others will break down into many smaller pools. Even the water is not homogenous.
Aside from chemical discrepancies, even the temperature of the water will
not be uniform. The water will stratify along temperature lines. And, when water freezes
to ice, it does so by building odd-angled bonds, making some ice less dense than water.
Were it not so, lakes would freeze solid.”
“So too, our infant universe is full of stratification and large and small pools of
stuff. The idea of empty space and vacuum is nonsense. There are black holes, nebulae,
galaxies, and everything else.
The stuff of universe is everywhere, connecting all things
at infinite quantum levels.
All things are bound together at some level.
We can’t see or
measure the stuff at the quantum level, at least not with physical observation.”
He looked at Jenny intently. “Do you remember the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principles?” asked Jared.
“Yes, yes I do,” said Jenny.
“Good! Explain it.”
Jenny hated it when Jared did this.
“The act of observing alters the reality being observed,” she said.
“Yes, exactly! That is where mathematics comes into play. All things can be described by mathematics and mathematics doesn’t violate the Heisenberg Law. Math can
describe dimensions that cannot be seen or measured. It can describe the stuff of the universe. Einstein’s E = M x C
2
is a marvelous telescope. It sees without disturbing the universe. So does E = M x G
3
.
Jenny and Jared were in bed, talking.
Jenny was facing Jared’s back, snuggling
close to him. The sheets were pushed to the side. It was a warm night.
“Did you ever have a moment that was so wonderful, so beautiful, that you said to
yourself, ‘I want to remember this point in time forever…exactly as it is now.’? But you
can’t.
Years later you can remember something about it, but you can’t remember what
you forgot but you know you did.
The way my grandmother…my Mormor… held my
hand and stroked my hair. The fragrance of her.
The smile and how it broadened when
she spoke to me in soothing, gentle tones.
There was so much more to remember, but
now it is just little pieces,” said Jenny.
“Then we must put these little pieces back together again,” said Jared.
Jared sat up in bed.
“Darling, we need to get you some testosterone reduction treatments. I need to get
some sleep,” said Jenny.
“I want to do something for you,” he said.
“Oh no. No more lessons. I’m really tired. It’s one in the morning.”
“You can go to sleep.
It’s just that you’ll do it a little differently this time,” said
Jared.
Jenny was suspicious.
“What is it you want to do?” asked Jenny.
“Hold my hand and close your eyes,” said Jared.
He picked up her left hand and gently clenched it.
She closed her eyes. She was
about to protest but the words wouldn’t come out. Jenny instantly fell asleep. Her eyelids
fluttered. He saw that her optic nerves had flashed intense bright light. He felt her pulse.
Her heart rate and breathing rhythm were elevated. Jared could sense her brain waves.
She quickly began to generate theta waves which rapidly changed to delta waves. All of
her muscles tensed. Finally, her brain waves returned to wake-state alpha and beta waves.
Jared noticed rapid eye movement. He was now certain that she was in deep REM sleep.
It could start now. The REM was essential. He was concerned about shock.
Jenny was dressed in her favorite summer dress. It was a maroon cable knit dress.
Her hair was in a ponytail. She was twenty-seven years old and didn’t have a care in the
world to think about.
Life was wonderful.
She felt euphoric.
She walked down the sidewalk to her house. It was a walk she had taken thousands of times, but this time, there
was something different about it.
She was walking to her girlhood home in Reading.
Something was odd. The house was sold soon after her grandmother died.
She was her
mother’s mother, and her mom, Ingrid, needed the money.
Jenny hadn’t been there for
several years. Why was she here now? Something was strange.
She opened the gate and walked in. Her bike was dumped on the porch steps. Her
bike. It was really her bike. Her dad drove over it years ago. How could it be back? The
house looked the same.
It was an old Victorian with white clapboard siding and a huge
wrap-around porch. She walked to the side of the house.
Her grandmother was in the garden. She was alive. She was alive? Now she knew
she it was a dream. Mormor was in her faded blue coveralls and flower print blouse. She
was wearing that hideous old straw sun hat.
It was a blue wide brimmed hat with blue
lace for a hat band. She bought it in Stockholm on her last trip. A tuft of white hair had
fallen over her face. It was Mormor.
There was no doubt about it.
This was weird, but
she was surprised how calm she felt.
Jared was doing this.
She knew it. She could feel Jared’s hand.
If she clenched
her fist hard, she no longer felt his hand. If she relaxed her hand, it was back again. He
was holding her hand. She felt safe. She felt relaxed, not excited. This was all a dream.
It was a wonderful dream. She didn’t want to walk up. She held his hand lightly.
Jenny walked up to Mormor.
She was resetting strawberry runners, clipping
some and rooting others.
Her garden gloves were caked with the soft loam.
Jenny’s
chore had been to fill the compost barrel every evening after dinner scraps were collected. Not all scraps mind you. Just the ones that Mormor said were OK.
Her grandmother turned slowly and glanced at the girl standing behind her. She
looked hard at the girl.
Who was calling her Mormor?
She stood up, dusted off her coveralls, and took off her gloves.
“Sakes Alive.
You look so much like my Jenny.
Have we met?
My memory
isn’t what it used to be,” said Mormor.
Her grandmother’s heavy Swedish accent was music. Her voice was soft and
calming.
“I’m Jenny. I really am. This is a dream. You know it’s a dream. It’s my dream
and you should know me,” said Jenny.
“A dream, child?
Well if you say so.
I can’t get over how much you look like
little Jenny Nilsson.” She was a little concerned now. This young girl was addled.
“But it’s really me, Mormor.
You died a few years ago.
I cried so much I
thought it would never stop. My heart is bursting just seeing you again Mormor.
I love
you so much,” said Jenny.
“I died? Well, imagine that. But here I am. Bold as brass,” said Mormor.
Her grandmother loved idioms.
Jenny learned them all as she grew up.
Her
mother was usually at work. After her father died, they needed money. The $10,000 life
insurance policy was a huge amount of money when he took out the policy shortly after
coming to America. It wasn’t that much when he died. Her Mormor raised her. It’s not
that she loved her mother less than Mormor, but that she knew her grandmother so much
better.
“Take a good look at me Mormor.
It’s me.
I’ve sort of traveled in time in my
dream,” said Jenny.
She could still feel Jared’s hand holding hers as long as she didn’t
grip too tightly.
Would Mormor disappear if she let go of his hand?
She mustn’t do it.
She didn’t want to lose Mormor. Not yet. Not again.
Her grandmother took a step closer and looked deep into Jenny’s eyes.
“Land a Goshen!
What are you doing to a poor old woman, child?
Is it really
you? Am I dreaming too? I’ve lost my senses,” said Mormor.
“Mormor, what does it matter who’s dreaming?
Maybe we both are.”
Jenny
pulled out a locket that was tucked inside her blouse.
“See. You gave me this locket. It
has your picture inside.”
“Let me see that, child,” said Mormor. She examined it and opened the locket.
“It’s your locket, Mormor,” said Jenny.
“I haven’t given this to you. I plan to, but I haven’t given it to you yet. It’s still in
my jewelry box,” said Mormor.
“I don’t know how much time I have with you. I don’t want to waste a moment.
What year is this?” asked Jenny.
“Why it’s 1994.
You’re taking a nap upstairs.
My Jenny is nine years old and
here you are all grown up.”
“Remember when I fell into the rose bush when I was learning to ride my bike?”
asked Jenny.
“Of course I do. That was so terrible. We rushed you to the emergency room. It
took more than twenty stitches to fix you,” said Mormor.
Jenny pulled up the front of her dress. There was a pale scar just above her right
knee.
“This is the scar, Mormor,”
Her grandmother took out her glasses from her vest pocket and knelt down to look
at the scar.
“Saints preserve us!
It really is you Jenny.
It’s really you,” said Mormor.
She
bear hugged Jenny.
Jenny held on as tightly as she could.
She never wanted to let go.
Not ever.
“God works in mysterious ways, Jenny.
I have no right to question his mighty
Work,” said Mormor.
Jenny didn’t know how much time she had.
Then she heard Jared’s voice in her
head.
“Take all the time you want, Jenny,”
said Jared.
Jenny and her grandmother walked to the house and entered through the back
porch. The potting table was just as she remembered it. Mormor spent hours at that table
every summer.
Jenny’s school books were piled on the side board.
It was wonderful.
Everything was wonderful.
“Let me get you something to eat,” said Mormor.
“Yes, please,” said Jenny. She felt as if she was nine again.
Her grandmother went to the refrigerator and began pulling things out and setting
them on the kitchen counter.
“I have some leftover meatballs with lingonberries I can heat up. Let’s see. There
is some rosolli left.
How about some buttermilk….Jenny?” said Mormor.
Getting the
name Jenny out was strange.
Jenny looked around the kitchen.
She didn’t want to forget anything.
It was the
same old refrigerator her father bought.
The entire family attended the ceremony of
dragging it into the house after the delivery truck dropped it off on their sidewalk.
He
bought it at Sears and made payments on it as long as she could remember. She and Lars
played in the cardboard box in came in for weeks until the first big rain. It was a marvelous fort.
She was sitting at the rickety kitchen table with the speckled grey Formica.
She
saw that the big “L” was still there where Lars had started to carve his name until Mormor caught him doing it. Everything was from the 1960s. The kitchen faucet looked like
an antique. The green plastic tile splash guard above the sink and stove was dreadful but
also magnificent because her mother and father spent two weekends putting it up—and
she helped.
Mormor’s spice cabinet was above the gas stove.
The doors were always
open.
The hand knitted pot holders were hanging on the wall.
Dingy green linoleum
covered the kitchen floor. Everything was sort of avocado green, although not exactly.
Mormor was so happy when the kitchen was finished. She had never had a fancy kitchen
before. That everything was sort of green would have been the envy of her neighbors in
Sweden. It was all as it was. Jenny was nine again.
“Child, I don’t want you to tell me anything about what happens. I don’t want to
know when I die or about anything good or bad. We have to live our lives without knowing such things,” said Mormor.
“Of course. I understand.”
“I have to ask one thing,” said Mormor.
“Are you married?
Do you have children?”
“No! I’m not married,” said Jenny.
“That is too bad. Don’t wait too long,” said Mormor. “Have you learned Swedish
yet? Your children will need to know it.”
“I’m so sorry, Mormor. I haven’t.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it’s not that important in America.”
Her grandmother prepared a plate of leftovers.
She poured the meatballs from a
small sauce pan right on her plate and then spooned the lingonberries on the side.
She
piled the rosolli to the other side.
“It’s wonderful. I haven’t had this in so long, Mormor.”
Too little girls burst into the kitchen and then stopped short as they spied a stranger at the kitchen table.
“We got tired of sleeping,” said Krissy.
“Girls, a friend is visiting.
Say hello to Miss…to Jennifer,” said Mormor.
She
winked at Jenny. She didn’t want to confuse the girls.
“My name is Jennifer too,” said little Jenny.
“I’m Krissy.”
“Where is Lars, girls?” asked Mormor.
“Lars has Little League today, Grandma,” said Krissy.
“Oh yes, I forgot. Why don’t you girls go out and play. It is a beautiful day.”
“OK. Nice to meet you. Bye,” said little Jenny. They stormed out of the kitchen.
The screen door slammed.
They didn’t recognize Jenny.
No reason they should have.
Children see the
world in simple terms. Things without explanations are common for children.
“Mormor, I remember this. I really do. It is so amazing. I remember the stranger
in the kitchen. She was eating the last of the rosolli. I loved rosolli and didn’t want her
to eat it,” said Jenny.
“But if I remember it, it would have really happened. It wouldn’t
have been a dream. Or, do I just think I remember it. I am so confused,” said Jenny.
“Sakes alive!
This is strange.
True enough.
I don’t want to think about it so
much. If it is, it is. If it isn’t, I’m just a simple old lady. I expect that I am going to wake
up and find myself in bed,” said Mormor.
Jenny and her grandmother sat at the kitchen table and talked until late afternoon.
Jenny finished her plate and then had some cookies and buttermilk.
“
Time to go, Jenny
,” said Jared.