Family Matters
David Sourcil came back to our table bringing two mugs of black coffee. I was aware I desperately needed caffeine and sugar. The man sitting in front of me was staring at his mug. Suddenly he said:
-This is so embarrassing. I’m really sorry. You’re such a kind person and you barely know me and my family and here I am, asking you a big favour…
I had been misinterpreting his behaviour. What I had taken for superiority wasn’t that at all. It was terrible embarrassment. David bent his head to the side and smiled at me briefly. He looked very young now. Thirty-two, thirty-three, but he must have been older. He had a fifteen-year-old son.
-Yours is an extra-ordinary family and I’m sincerely glad to have met you all. And I guess I could find some time to teach Gwen maths and science, since I’m more and more interested in indigo children. But I can’t deny you really took me off guard. Besides I’m very curious to know why you are in favour of your daughter’s moving to Portland whereas your ex wife isn’t.
-We were never married but that’s not the point. See, Linda and I split mainly because of the way we want to raise our children. She thinks out kids should try and mingle among other children, and she wants them to spend as much time as possible with their peers. I guess Jett is an adorable kid, he gets on with everybody, he’s kind, he’s got a lot of friends. He likes going to school, so I’m totally ok with him being surrounded by “normal” kids if that’s what he wants. But Gwen, well, Gwen is a completely different person. She hates school, she hates most of her teachers and schoolmates. She needs to be constantly challenged and she isn’t. Therefore I’ve always been in favour of her quitting school. She has to study with someone who can stimulate her to do her best. And of course I want her to have friends, but obliging her to go to school doesn’t work. She’s extra-ordinary, she’s unique. She will always be different, isolated. It pains me but that’s exactly what is going to happen and Linda doesn’t want to come to terms with it. I know she’s her mother, and I understand her need to protect her, but Gwen’s unhappy now and we gotta do something about it.
David’s eyes shone as he was talking of his daughter. He seemed to have a deeper understanding of her and her desires. Jett was thin and tall and sociable just like Linda, and Gwen was probably very similar to her father, so terribly shy that she risked appearing aggressive and rude. We were on our way back to the departments.
-Linda hasn’t changed her mind yet, David went on, but if I tell her that you’re available she will have to accept Gwen’s moving here and quitting school. The thing is last week end I went back to Saskatchewan to see my kids and Linda and I had another terrible fight. When I moved to Portland, one and a half year ago, we decided Linda should look for a job in Portland and would move here with the kids. But I guess she has never really looked for a job, otherwise she would have found one by now. She’s a school teacher, not an astronaut! She wants me to be as far away from the kids as possible as not to interfere with their upbringing and education. Gwen must have heard our conversation and now she’s threatening Linda she will go on a hunger strike if she can’t come and live with me.
-Oh my…
-Yes, it’s terrible. And Gwen is just as stubborn as her mother, so I have no doubt about the fact that she will do it if we don’t stop her before.
-I’m really sorry to hear this. Of course I will help you. Tell Linda I can teach Gwen and let’s hope she will let her come to Portland.
-Thanks. This is my office, would you like to come in?
I hadn’t realised we had entered the English department. As soon as David opened the door I spotted a huge, wonderful painting representing an old Indian woman whose resemblance with Devi was incredible.
- Was that painted by Gwen? It does look like her style.
-That was actually painted by her father, he said. He did it when he was eight.
I should have guessed it from the start. David Sourcil had been an indigo child, too; why did I always realise things when it was too late?
Alpha Males
Alpha males are the leaders of animal communities. Nature chooses some of her sons and makes them inclined to command. The rest of the males defer to the alpha and the female members of the community fight over him.
David Sourcil was an alpha male: men can always recognize natural leaders when they see them. The fact that I hated him from day one actually says more about me than about him, I guess. I’ve always thought of myself as a gregarious animal, but things are probably different. I think I would naturally be an alpha male myself, but I’m too politically correct to fully acknowledge it. I’ve always rejected leadership, but I must admit I’ve always been able to influence others, to appear reasonable and persuasive, to make people do what I wanted. This sharply contrasts with my shyness, but opposites seem to co-exist in me.
I was formulating these thoughts somewhere deep in my mind as I invited David Sourcil to have a seat in my office. Natalie left the room quietly, but not without casting a last admired glance at the young man sitting in front of me. I couldn’t help feeling annoyed. I’m afraid university professors, alpha males or otherwise, tend to be very jealous of their territory. We are supposed to be cleverer than people with worse education, but we are just as hopeless.
-I need to talk to you about something, Mr. Eyebrow, David said. Then, in order to break the ice, he added:
-Have you had lunch yet?
-It’s 3 pm! I replied. – Of course I have.
- Well, I have been very busy with correcting papers and I still need to go to lunch. Would you mind talking in the cafeteria?
- Of course not.
-Thanks a lot.
The guy seemed kind and friendly, which made me hate him even more. On our way to the cafeteria I caught a lot of female glances directed at him, but he made no sign of noticing it. Maybe he was just used to it, I couldn’t tell. He had bright eyes which contrasted with his dark, heavy eyebrows. His hair was of a slightly brighter shade. Gwen had identical eyes but much fairer hair. And now that I came to think of it, I had never been able to see her eyebrows.
David was slowly chewing his sandwich and showed no hurry. On the other hand, I was very impatient to know what he wanted to talk to me about, so I asked him. He put his sandwich down, drank some water, and said:
- I know you’ve told my daughter Gwen that you don’t want to tutor her. I’m here to ask you to reconsider.
He looked me in the eye defiantly and said no more. He simply picked his sandwich up and finished it.
Of course I could have said no, especially as I didn’t like the man who was talking to me, but, deep inside, I knew it was not what I wanted. Somehow, my trip to Saskatchewan had produced an irreversible change in me. I didn’t know what it was yet, but I felt it had to do with Gwen and her family. After years spent confuting theories I felt the indigo children I had met were a new, unexplored universe of possibilities.
Besides, I had often had the impression that an external force, call it fate, destiny or whatever, was pushing me towards a greater involvement with the Sourcils.
And I was curious to see where this would take me.
Unavailable
I haven’t had time to write my blog lately. I have been very busy. In my twenties and thirties I often had the feeling I was caught up in a web made up of office hours, classes, taxis, trains, books I had to read or write, students whose name I should have remembered, things I had promised my son I would do and never did.
As an astronomer I should have spent my time looking at the sky, hanging between the earth and the stars; my daily life kept me firmly anchored to the ground instead. I could not complain: what I had was what I had chosen for myself. I had always wanted to become a scholar and I had been clever and lucky enough to become one. Granted, I had to work hard. Granted, I slept no more than five, six hours per night. Granted, I spent more time with my students than with my family. But I had known it from the beginning and my wife had known it, too: we were both trying to do our best, hoping it would be enough.
I used to take a lot of planes at that time and I remember enjoying the sensation of being isolated from the rest of the world. My cell phone was switched off, my laptop was switched off, I was unavailable. My thoughts would slowly unroll like little locks of smoke, the deadened sounds of lazy conversations would help them widen.
As I was fastening my seat belt, that late afternoon, my thoughts were all centered around Gwendolyn and her mother. I had got up at dawn and I was tired, but I knew my ideas were extremely clear. I massaged my eyelids with my fingertips. I laid my head on the headrest.
Linda was an incredible woman. She was skinny and you couldn’t call her beautiful- yet. I couldn’t help thinking she was sexy in her own, awkward way. Jett had taken after her having brown hair and almond shaped hazel eyes. As Devi and I entered the diner, that morning, he was watching a Youtube video on his laptop. Linda was making coffee and Gwendolyn was playing with their dog. Ben hadn’t showed up yet.
Linda was very friendly, offered us a mug of much needed coffee and coconuts biscuits. Ben had told her everything about us and our short visit, and she was glad to have the chance to meet us in person. She knew Devi was an artist who was intensely interested in indigo art, so she had asked Jett to bring his laptop so that he could surf the net and help her locate all indigo children in the West of Canada. It seemed a very nice offer and Devi was not able to decline it: of course she knew as well as I did that this was a clever way of excluding her from the conversation I was going to have with Gwendolyn and he mother. Linda could be as friendly as determined in getting what she wanted ( I should have remembered it in the future but of course I didn’t!)
Gwendolyn was very quiet: it was very early and she probably wasn’t a morning person. I noticed that she was wearing a bandanna which covered her hair, forehead and eyebrows. She was looking at me and I couldn’t interpret the expression on her face.
-I apologise for arranging an appointment so early in the morning, Linda said. – But Gwen feels she has been very rude to you yesterday and she wanted to tell you she’s sorry about that.
- Oh, that’s very nice of you Gwendolyn, I replied addressing the kid directly. Gwendolyn’s sounded like a lame excuse. Apologising for being rude is something a twelve-year-old would never do, let alone a twelve-year-old as cheeky as the blond indigo child sitting in front of me.
Linda seemed to echo my thoughts: – She did take me by surprise, you know. That’s not what this young lady would normally do, so I must admit I was very curious to meet you and I agreed to contact your Indian friend and to arrange this meeting. So, Gwen, what is it that you wanted to tell Mr. Eyebrow?
-You can call me Indigo.
- I’m sorry I was rude yesterday. You know, I was playing basketball and you and your friend arrived and interrupted me and I hate being interrupted.
- You’d better stop acting like a spoiled princess, young lady! Linda’s eyes moved from her child to me. -So, Indigo, what brings you to Saskatchewan?
-He’s an astronomer, mom.
- Really? I thought you were a painter or an art scholar!
- No, I’m no art expert at all. Devi is. We went to Kinvarra’s Todepp exhibit and her mother told us about your children.
-She did? Wow!
I knew what she meant. Mrs. Todepp was jealous of Gwen’s and Jett’s talent which was so much greater than her daughter’s. We both chuckled. I liked her.
Gwen seemed impatient now. -Mr.Eyebrow is on sabbatical mom. That’s why he’s been travelling. He normally lives in Portland and since he’s such a great scholar I was wondering if…
-NO! Linda didn’t let her finish. -I know what you’re gonna say and the answer is no. Just forget it!
- But MOM! Dad lives there! I could go and live with him…
-NO! Linda was inflexible in her decision. I asked for an explanation. Apparently, Gwen’s father lived in Portland. We both worked at the same university but for another department. Gwen had been dreaming about living with her dad since he had left for Portland, a year and a half before. She wanted to move to Portland and to quit school to have private tuition. She couldn’t bear being surrounded by slower kids any longer. So she had thought that her father could have been her tutor for English while I could have given her maths and science class. While her mother was explaining all this to me she had been biting her lip. She looked flushed with anger and yet she was trying to control herself and to appear reasonable, in the hope I would say yes and convince her mother hers was a good idea. But of course I didn’t.
- I’m very sorry Gwendolyn but I can’t help you. As you said, I’m on sabbatical, but that doesn’t mean I’m on vacation. I’m pretty busy right now. I’m working on two books right now, then, in spring, I will be attending quite a few seminars. I couldn’t find the time to be your tutor even if I wanted to. I’m really sorry.
Gwen went to the back-garden without a word. But I couldn’t help noticing her look as she was leaving. She was mutely accusing me: why was I letting her down after we had met in such a singular way during the night?
Had I really seen accusation in her eyes or was it just my imagination?
Saskatchewan At Dawn
Can dreams interfere with our life? When the consciousness that we are dreaming intrudes in our oneiric life we seem to be able to control our dreams, but can we do the opposite? Art seems to provide a postive answer to this question. Art is the utmost expression of the power of control and the disruptive force of instinct at the same time.
This much was clear even to a man of science like me, an astronomy professor trained to approach things rationally. I kept repeating to myself my meeting with Gwendolyn in the dream could not be correlated to the phone call I had just received. My thoughts were racing and I decided to take a quick shower. I had no time to shave. In big contrast to my restless state of mind, Saskatchewan was waking up slowly, flooded by a ghostly light. It would be another cloudy and rainy day. I put my luggage in the truck of the car and took a minute to take a good, last look at the Canadian skyline. In the late afternoon I would fly back home.
Devi greeted me coldly as she got into the car. She had arranged to meet Gwendolyn, Jett and their mother Linda at the diner before the kids had to go to school. Even though I was driving I could tell she was looking at me suspiciously. Things between me and her had radically changed over the last few hours. Since we had been at Kinvarra’s exhibit, she had taken all the decisions and I had followed her like I had been her sidekick. She had shared her knowledge of indigo children with me when she had felt like it. I knew there were things she hadn’t told me. And now it was the other way round. She wanted to know why Gwendolyn had decided to see me out of the blue, she wanted to know what had happened, but she didn’t dare to ask.
Of course, if she had asked I wouldn’t have told her. I had learned not to trust the woman completely. She certainly had an aim in mind regarding indigo children and she wouldn’t share it with me, so I really didn’t know what to think of her. One thing was for sure, she could be very manipulative. Besides, what could I have told her? That I had met Gwendolyn in my dreams and she had met me in hers? Was that the reason why we were driving to the diner? I simply could not believe it.
Anyway, I was a few minutes away from the truth.
I’d love to thank everybody who’s been reading my story so far: I wasn’t expecting to have such nice comments and someone even devoted a post to my blog. I hope you’ll keep reading it and tell me what you think about it (please feel free to tell me if you think I should have acted differently).
