top of page
Search
Laura Nicol

The Conversation

I am going to tell you a story. You probably won't believe it, but I swear to you it is true. Cross my heart. I have changed names to protect myself. From what? You'll see.


Through no fault of my own, I am stuck at home. There is a worldwide pandemic raging outside and I am in the high-risk category so I stay in as much as possible. I get my groceries delivered and do my shopping online. I go out for as few appointments as possible, always wear a mask with a hepa filter, and I wash my hands so often my skin is cracking. Household projects have all been put on hold. Traveling is just a dream. Quarantine is the new reality for as far as the eye can see.


I miss dressing up and going to the symphony. I miss dinner and drinks at the jazz clubs. And going to the movies and the library. I can't believe I am saying this, but I even miss going grocery shopping. Most of all, I miss my friends, meeting for coffee or lunch, going on a walk, sitting on a park bench. Conversation and companionable silence. Hugs.


I stay in touch with my friends and family by email, phone and Zoom. It certainly isn't as good as meeting in person, but it's better than nothing. But for long, chatty conversations I still prefer the phone. I like to kick off my shoes, arrange the pillows, and lie down on the bed. I get comfortable, a cup of coffee, soda, or wine at hand. When I am really relaxed I reach for the phone and call a friend.


I'm talking with my BFF Gwen. She and her husband Dan moved out of the city a few years ago and bought property in the islands. I like listening to her farming experiences and she likes talking about them. She's telling me about picking the first raspberries of the season and how delicious they taste. I can imagine her sitting on the couch with her feet on the coffee table. I hear her husband in the kitchen.


It's almost as if I see her sitting there. She is wearing her pink fleece jacket and Darn Tough socks. Dan is making lunch and the soup smells delicious. Suddenly I feel.... dizzy. Disoriented. The way I feel when I totally lose track of time. When I really don't know what hour of what day of what month it is. As if I am just drifting free in time. But now I seem to have also lost track of my location. This has never happened before and it's frightening me.


I barely hear Gwen saying, “Lorraine, I have to go. Lunch is ready. Let's talk on Friday.”


I manage to say, “OK, fine, give Dan a hug for me,” and hang up. I just lay here feeling so strange and disoriented. I must be hallucinating. I am so lonesome from nine months in quarantine, and I miss my friends so much I am losing touch with reality.


It happens again the following week when I am talking with my cousin Kathy. She moved to Florida and I didn't make it down to visit before the pandemic hit. But I can see her sitting in her enclosed back porch with her gray cat Tolly in her lap and a glass of sparkling wine on the table. I ask her if she has bought any new orchids and she describes the cattlya I can see by the half empty wine glass. I feel the warm, humid air and smell the sweet scent of jasmine that is growing up the porch screen.


“Hey, Kathy, sorry, I gotta go. I'll call you back later,” I tell her in a panic. This is too weird and I am really worried about myself.


These episodes begin happening more and more frequently when talking with close friends. I start keeping a record to see if this is for real or just my imagination filling in for reality. I am very leery of mentioning this to anyone for fear they will think I am crazy. Maybe I am.


For a couple of months this strange phenomenon has only happens when I am talking with friends. At first it is with my closest friends, but pretty quickly it begins occurring with everyone I call. Today, much to my surprise, it happens when I accidentally answer a robocall. To investigate I start answering all the endless robocalls and “push #1 to talk with the next available representative.” The “dislocation” only occurs occasionally in the beginning, but with practice I can do it almost every time, complete strangers, knowing nothing about them, not even relaxed. Well, wow. Thinking about all the ways I can mess with these pesky callers really amuses me.


I try to “dislocate” to a favorite park bench where I used to sit and watch the birds. That doesn't work. I try visiting a friend's house when not on the phone. No, not then either. Then one day I adjust the radio antennae, and bam! I am in the radio studio. A little “eek” of surprise escapes me. The DJ hears me and looks around, but he can't see me. We are both really confused.


So what is going on? Why does it happen sometimes, but not other times? I seem to need some kind of connection to “dislocate”. Obviously not a phone line because those are a thing of the past. So, no wires. Radios use electromagnetic waves of specific wave lengths. Wireless phone calls are transmitted using other wavelengths. I'm guessing that somehow I am traveling along the electromagnetic waves.


Slowly, as the pandemic drags on, “dislocating” happens more and more often. With practice I expand my abilities. I visit several of the local broadcast stations and refrain from squealing in surprise. I start traveling along the television frequencies as well as phone and radio.


I wonder, since we are engulfed in electromagnetic waves, can I just go anywhere? Am I limited to the path directly from me to the source, or can I travel along one wave and transfer to another? Do I have to stay with a certain frequency, or can I slide up and down the spectrum, changing from phone to radio to TV? I am pretty confident that I can, but before I try I need to make sure I can return home. My cat would be really sad if she didn't get fed on time.


I realize all of the electromagnetic waves carrying information must have identifiers so I learn to parse out that data. Turning on both my radio and TV I spend time practicing. If I get a robocall, all the better because the caller really isn't going to know that I am not paying any attention to the conversation but am involved in something else.


Fifteen months into the pandemic and I am fluent in surfing the electromagnetic waves. Radio, TV, phone, Wi-Fi, fiber optics, radar. You name it and I can hitch a ride.


I take the opportunity to travel. You can't beat the satellite phone for an exciting trip to a remote location, say the breath-taking Himalayas. It's hard to find these calls so I am ready to grab one anytime I can. However, if it is an emergency call for help, I terminate as quickly as possible. I not only feel the caller's terror, but I can see it too. It's actually visible in the ultraviolet frequency. The emotion is so intense it leaves me frightened and anxious and my heart is still skipping beats two weeks later.


I really missed the Blue Angels flying at Seafair last summer so I hitch a ride in an F-18 every now and then. Please don't mention that to the NSA, FBI, CIA, NASA, or any of those alphabet organizations. Can you image how crazy they'd be if they learn I can visit the cockpit of a military airplane?


I transfer from an F-18 to a nuclear sub that is close to the surface and has its antennae deployed. As it makes a deep dive the hull starts contracting and making lots of metallic creaks and groans as if it is going to be crushed by the pressure. The hydrophones pick up the sounds of marine animals, from the whales singing to the shrimp chirping. Fascinating. When the sub is pinged by radar from an aircraft carrier I take the opportunity to depart.


The aircraft carrier is even more exciting. Those jets catapulting off the bow and sinking out of sight before gaining enough speed to fly make me gasp every single time. Fortunately, the procedure is so noisy no one ever hears me cheering when they reappear above the deck instead of crashing into the sea.


Absolutely best of all is my trip to the International Space Station in the SpaceX Dragon. Five astronauts and me. The launch is thrilling and the docking is slow and nerve wracking. I love watching Kate's and Shannon's hair floating around in low gravity. And who knew the ISS smells like dirty socks?


But I can't stay until the Dragon returns to Earth. I have to take care of my corporeal self back home. After a couple of days I catch a radio transmission and return to Earth, switch along a couple of frequencies, and make it home in a flash. Boy, am I hungry and thirsty.


As I rest between trips I wonder if I can use this pandemic-induced talent to help others rather than just for my own entertainment. I give some thought to taking another person with me, say someone who can't travel due to health problems. But I have absolutely no idea how to get started and the thought of losing the person along the electromagnetic waves terrifies me. I am putting that idea aside for now.


Could I trace a kidnapper or track down a bomb threat? Could I prevent a cyber attack? My greatest worry is how I can be of assistance but maintain my anonymity. I don't want some fool to think I am a threat to National Security and lock me up in a Faraday cage. So I am giving this some thought and will proceed with extreme caution.


We are coming up on eighteen months since the beginning of the pandemic. The vaccine is working and the number of people inoculated is finally approaching critical mass. I am so excited to escape quarantine and see my friends in person. I expect to have less time for dislocating and wonder if I will lose the ability. Maybe it is like riding a bike. You never really forget how.


Meanwhile, I think I will call a good friend who has fled the city to work remotely from a tropical island. No sunscreen needed.

Author: Laura Nicol


32 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

留言


留言功能已關閉。
Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page