Things Not Subject To Gravity - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Doctor Von Haughman had agreed to a little walk through the hospital's garden, before the usual session. They strolled side by side along the gravel path that circled the square of green grass. The Oracle breathed in the sweet air, still carrying the pleasant crispness of spring. Lovely time in New York, at late afternoon the sun was still high in the sky. His eyes embraced the pink flowers, lingering on a tree—sunlight embellished them like glimmering jewelry. A smile blossomed on his lips.
"A human being is part of the whole, called by us the 'Universe', a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness." Sybil slowly turned around and stared intently in the doctor's eyes. "This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole nature in its beauty." His measured, soft-spoken sermonette hung on a deliberate break. "Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation, and a foundation of inner security."
"Is that what you think, Mister Vain?"
Running a delicate hand through his long hair, The Oracle resumed his walk. "How many times have I told you to call me Sybil already?"
"Alright. Today I'll comply with your request, but only after you reply to my questions. Is that what you think, Mister Vain?"
"Not me. I was quoting Einstein." Sybil chuckled to himself and turned on his heel to look at the older man. "It just came to my mind. I kept forgetting to show you my gratitude for allowing me to keep these." He lifted the pendant with his right hand, showing the ring as well.
Von Haughman's brows arched, revealing his surprise, but he recovered his composure just as quickly. "Nevermind. Jewelry didn't pose a threat in your circumstances. You are definitely not the kind of patient who might misuse it to hurt himself or others."
The psychiatrist took off his glasses and tucked them in the left pocket of his white coat. Under his arm, he carried the folder of medical papers he'd collected about his patient in the past month. His distinguished manners and stern features were in stark contrast with the benevolence of his emerald eyes.
"It seems that we share the same opinion about it." The Oracle gave him a sweet smile and, turning back, started walking toward the hospital door.
The middle-aged doctor caught up, reaching his side again. "Would you mind telling me once more about your dream, Sybil?" His voice took a serious ring, but there was an undeniable softness to the way it indulged on the last word as the man gave up on his impeccably professional demeanor.
The Oracle tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear to give him a side-glance. "I dreamt of a young man," he whispered.
"Wasn't it about your death?"
Sybil stopped in front of the entrance and turned completely toward Von Haughman. A wry smile bent his lips. "Oh, my dear doctor, if you see his eyes, there's no helping it. Your heart will stop."
"I doubt it." The psychiatrist shook his head before walking past Sybil and pulling the door open, waiting for his patient to go inside first.
The Oracle complied, stepping into the white corridor that led to the Head Psychiatrist's office, but he took a turn to the right instead, heading to the cafe. The smell of antiseptic slapped him right in the face—the floor was so clean his sandals could slide on it like ice skates. He hardly managed to maintain his balance with the sharp turn but the doctor grabbed his arm.
Sybil smiled at the man and anticipating any question, he explained, "I'd love to have a coffee before we start."
Von Haughman nodded and took the lead, showing him the way even though there was no need to—the cafe was clearly visible at the end of the monochrome corridor and they had visited almost every day since The Oracle was admitted.
His hands behind his back, Sybil slowly stalked his therapist, the sound of his sandals breaking the silence of the hallway. Given the time, most of the doctors had already left—only a couple of freshly graduated researchers crossed their path. They glanced at him with big, nervous eyes, rushing down the hallway as if they had something important to do.
In fact, at the moment, most of the patients were being put to sleep by the few tough nurses that worked the night shift. Curfew was at six-thirty—not much different from Tibetan and Nepalese monasteries in the Himalayas, but sure enough, the monks had better food.
Cecilia Morgan, the nurse that usually wished Sybil goodnight, stood in front of the reception. Stomach in and breasts up, she flirted with the administrator who was ready to leave the facility—coat on, briefcase in his right hand, he threw furtive glances at the watch, ignoring the girl's plump lips. Eyeing the two, Sybil cheerfully waved his hand, earning a beam from the girl and a frown from the classy man.
Past the pair, he took the doctor's arm and spoke in his quietest tone. "Maybe for you it's nothing, but I was happy I could share my secrets."
Von Haughman sped up, tactfully slipping out of his hold and taking the lead once more. "Does that mean that you usually don't talk about yourself?" he asked in his clear, yet calm voice.
"It does. After all, everything about me should remain a secret."
The doctor glanced at him from over his shoulder, his brows arched.
Sybil shrugged. "I was sure that you wouldn't tell a soul."
"I'm not bound to confidentiality when the police are involved," the doctor asserted.
Not bothering to explain himself, The Oracle brought his index finger to his mouth and shushed him. Von Haughman shook his head and started walking again. Still, as polite as he was, he stopped in front of the pie case, waiting for his patient.
Entering the cafe, Sybil took it in for the last time. It was a large bright room, with three big windows and a few potted plants—all walls and furniture utterly white like the rest of the facility. That absence of color could definitely get on somebody's nerves and—in his opinion—it wasn't the best choice when dealing with mental disorders, but Sybil loved its Zen quality, the emptiness of it.
Unlike the lunchroom, the cafe was opened twenty-four hours, housed only a dozen tables and was mostly frequented by doctors and nurses during their breaks. However, a few of the calmer patients were allowed in it. Sybil spotted a familiar face, sitting at a small table in the furthermost corner of the room.
Marian Bell, his next-door neighbor, used to be a dancer. She'd attempted suicide after finding out her husband had another wife, family, and life, somewhere in the south. That very husband had saved her life—Cecilia had told him—and the poor woman had flipped out. Behind her back, they called her Holy Mary because she claimed that—coming back from death—she'd become the mother of all things.
Sybil took a diversion toward her. Her attention was totally drawn to the real flowers forming the colorful small bouquet placed at the center of her table. Stopping beside her, The Oracle bent over, stroked her hair, and laid a kiss on her forehead.
"You are as radiant as ever, Ammaji*," he said gently.
She lifted her loving eyes to him. "You are, my Lord."
Sybil drew closer to whisper in her ear, "I'm leaving today, my dear. So, I wish to give you a little piece of advice—everybody has ears, yet some people are not ready to listen." He straightened up and brought his index finger to her mouth, tapping her lips before he spoke again. "He who has ears to hear, let him hear. Do you understand?"
She nodded and, as he withdrew his hand, burst out in a peal of joyous laughter.
On the other side of the room, Von Haughman cleared his throat, then his voice echoed loud and clear. "Mister Vain, would you please stop bothering the other patients?"
The Oracle grinned at Marian and with a slight pat on her head, left her side. Approaching the cafe's counter, he glanced casually at the pastries behind the glass at his left. "You know, Doctor, I quite enjoy your company, but it's about time for me to leave."
The psychiatrist's brows furrowed. "Actually, I'd like to keep you in my care for a few more weeks."
"I'd love to, but I've got some compelling obligations." Sybil tapped his index finger against the glass, pointing at some cherry-filled, heart-shaped pies. "Also, if you want to see me again, you should really fix your lifestyle. Carelessness kills, you know?"
"If you are referring to my smoking habit, I can't argue, but a smoker is never pleased to be reminded of it. You should know what I'm talking about."
Sybil raised a brow. "The cigarettes I carry are a little gift for someone with whom I have an appointment. Honestly, I'm yet to be concerned about his health, but I kind of see you as a friend, so I'd like you to live a long and happy life."
The doctor shook his head and noticed the waitress, approaching them from behind the counter. His mouth opened ready to order, but The Oracle anticipated him.
"One americano, small, and an ABC juice for Wilhelm, please," he said.
"Sure. You always trick him into drinking that stuff anyway, don't you?" she commented.
"Somebody has to look after his health." The Oracle brought a hand to his chest. "On the other hand, I need coffee to moderate the sweetness of my heart," he jested, earning a giggle from the girl.
She turned around to prepare their drinks, while they sat on the stools. The doctor shifted in his seat and rested his elbows on the smooth black surface of the counter. After the joke, a smile had brightened his face.
"Honestly, if you weren't my patient, I wouldn't mind being your friend."
"Have you ever been to Thailand, Doctor?"
Von Haughman gave him a skeptical look before shaking his head.
"In Bangkok, there's a lovely hotel called Rajata, from there you can easily reach Hua Chew, a Traditional Chinese Medicine hospital. I'd recommend you to meet Doctor Lin, an old Chinese woman who's specialized in acupuncture. If you can make it, let's meet there before summer starts."
The doctor shook his head before he put his hand to his forehead and chuckled. "What are we talking about now?"
Sybil shrugged as the waitress placed their drinks on the countertop in front of them. He opened the brown sugar and dropped it in his cup, breathing the aroma of coffee while he stirred the black liquid. Conscious that the act contradicted his own words, he couldn't refrain from throwing a mischievous glance at his companion.
His melodious voice broke the silence. "You mentioned death before, right? Well, I think we have two kinds of death—" He lifted his hand, raising his index and middle finger. "One concerning the body and the other one the ego. If somebody can leave behind everything they've been so far, if they wake up and recognize the truth, I believe that their karma will be rewritten too."
Sipping his unsweetened juice, the doctor waved his hand, inviting Sybil to continue.
"Jumping into the bottomless abyss, the fall will be an endless fall into grace." The Oracle lifted his cup and stared at the black liquid left in the bottom. He breathed in its intense aroma and moaned in satisfaction. "But who cares about that when we have such a nice coffee?"
"Lately, it seems to me that you are trying to get out of here by denying your own beliefs. You don't need to. I could assess that you are not a danger to yourself or to others, and I won't force you to stay. Still, I'd like to keep assisting you so that you won't have any other incidents in the future."
Sybil put down his cup, glanced at the clock on the wall, and stood. "We are almost a hour late on our last session. I guess you'll have to take your next patient straight in, and won't be able to leave the Center at the usual time."
"I don't have any scheduled meeting after yours." Von Haughman squinted at him and stayed seated.
"Well, I do. Shall we go now?" A smile on his face, Sybil joined his hands in a prayer-like gesture as he walked backward toward the exit.
"What's the hurry? I should be the one complaining about the delay," the doctor remarked.
The Oracle chuckled. "Please, be my guest. I'll gladly listen to your complaints, for once."
With a sigh, Von Haughman stood and gestured for the girl to put the drinks on his tab, quickly catching up to Sybil.
"As a farewell gift, I'll quote you Jung." He paused as if he was trying to remember the correct words. "The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances—if there's any reaction, both are transformed."
"How accurate," Sybil conceded.
As he walked away, his robe swung to the rhythm of his steps—it was such a pleasure after being constrained in trousers for a month. The Police had returned all of his personal belongings and Von Haughman had given him special permission to wear his own clothes for the day.
Regardless of their conversation, they both knew it was their last meeting.
Sybil entered the office and quietly lay on the couch while the doctor shut the door behind his back, before taking his usual seat beside his patient. Glancing at The Oracle to confirm he was ready to start, he placed his folder over the desk and started the recorder.
Their conversation mimicked the last four sessions they had together—no mention of foreseeing, sensing, preventing or any other spiritual matter, just a straight-out declaration of Sybil Vain being an actor impersonating the character of The Oracle for the sake of his business—confirming the patient's sanity.
After all, The Oracle knew exactly what he had to say to be discharged.
At the end of their talk, despite the doctor's request to reconsider his choice of dropping completely out of the treatment, Sybil stood up, bowed his head, and walked to the door. After turning the lock, he took a deep breath and finally pulled it open.
There, perfectly in time as expected, was the man of his dreams.