Saturday, July 28, 2012
It's The Little Things.
And the Universe takes what it wants and is unforgiving and
beautiful.
Kafka has
taken her spot on the higher perch. She
rises as high as she can go within the cage, and it is just enough. There is no longer a need to fly; the view
from the swinging dowel suspended by taut, hard wires is enough. From up here, with its limited and easy view,
she can rest easy and know that all her hard work and calculations are
justified…glorified.
And from
one perch below, Linaeus, sits quietly and admires her strength and
understanding of a universe gone mad.
Together,
they have toiled. Together, they have
unraveled the secrets of dark matter and particle acceleration. They have bickered and squabbled, plucked
feathers from each others backs. In the
quiet, just before the rise of the sun of the new day after mathematical work and welding, they have leaned deep
into one another and cooed and keened when all hope seemed lost. Their work, as important as it may have
seemed, would always take a backseat to their silly love for one another. They could have never broken thru the
barriers of time and space alone, without the other. Kafka, the unbending idealist intellect and
reasoning, emotional leader, needed Lineaus, the scientist, the empiricist, and
data collector and unbreakable lover, of her and their work.
Truth be
told, Linaeus didn’t give a shit about time travel and intersecting planes; and
here being now, and then being when.
It all seemed such nonsense. But
he went along with the math and build because this is what true lovers do. It was all fun and games, “Love of science,
science for love.” It all made her happy
and smile and satisfied, and isn’t that enough?
Shouldn’t that be enough?
The bad
news came on Thursday. After blood tests
and x-rays, it was determined that she was terminal. She took the diagnosis well, squawked a bit,
and settled in to her new, discovered fate.
What other recourse did she have?
Kafka knew all along that work on such a grand scale would take its
toll. You can’t nudge stars without
repercussions. She isn’t ready to go,
but her work has reassured her that this isn’t the end.
Linaeus
takes the news of Kafka’s fate quite hard.
They spend their first night apart and he sets about rearranging the
trinkets and papers of their cage, not so much to suit his needs or desires,
but more to throw everything into upheaval and chaos. A simple day apart is enough to drive him to
madness and self destruction. After the
petulant melee has passed, he sits and waits for her return. Each time a door opens outside their cage, he
perks up and waits for her to be gently handed back to him through the soft
bars that keep them safe. But she
doesn’t return for one whole day.
And when
she does return, everything is different and nothing will ever be the
same. Together, Kafka and Linaeus have
broken through and mastered time, and now
time is their enemy. Together, they
worked to cross through it, at will; and now
they only want to turn it back.
Linaeus - “Volim te.”
Kafka - “I know my love, and I love you.”
Linaeus - “Was it the experiments? Was it the late nights, chemicals and
electricity? Was it our reckless pursuit
of higher learning? Was it just dumb
fucking luck? Because I’ll be damned, I
want fucking answers.”
Linaeus is
now sitting next to Kafka on the higher perch.
Gently, they rub their useless wings against one another and dream of
flying.
Kafka - “I will love
you forever, and if that doesn’t last, than nothing will.”
Linaeus - “How much
time do we have?”
Kafka - “All the time
in the universe, my love. We already
figured it out. Keep our beautiful
machine running. And I will find you again. We have so much more to figure out.”
Linaeus
leans deep into Kafka, buries his tiny, heavy head, in the comfort of the silky
soft feathers of her shoulder. And
Kafka, with the strength of newly formed star, holds him strong and within her
gravity and universe pull. And as she
holds strong and steady, she catches a glimpse of herself, and him, in the
cheap plastic and foil mirror that was placed there in their cage, for their
amusement when the calculations and heavy work seemed to much and all for
naught. Kafka muses, “How easily we can
be distracted? Look my love, that’s
us, refracted by light and time. Silly
us. Love me.”
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