Science and Synesthesia

I've been interested in particle physics since my third-grade science class went to the Lawrence-Manhattan Laboratory in Allegro, CA. The sound that emanated through the air was exquisite. It was the first time I had ever taken out my ear-plugs in public. I focused on that cacophony subduing sound and I didn't see anything but my surroundings. I was free there.

I discovered at an early age that everything makes sound. The mere existence of a thing creates sound and all those disparate sounds combine to compose a music of sorts. My ears pick apart noise and I hear music. My brain picks apart the music and creates patterns in bursts of color and odd shaped black blurs trapped in my peripheral line of vision. Outside of the lab I wear earplugs at all times. Inside I can listen to actual music without seeing a thing. There I discovered a love for music I thought I would never have. The electromagnetic buzz of the accelerator fills the air and numbs my ears. The dampening effect allows me to function quite normally. I would live there if I could.

Outside of work I have no personal relationships. I stay in my small house and work puzzles in my free time. I only make trips outside when I absolutely have to. Last week I went out to the book store. I was browsing the puzzle section when I saw a beautiful, tall woman picking up a Sangaku book. I have never known a woman to enjoy Euclidean geometry as entertainment. Her posture was confident and she had a small smile on her face as she perused the book. She looked completely absorbed by a subject most people would find boring. Though I never spoke to people, I couldn't help myself, I walked over and said hello. Her name was Rita and we ended up in the tea shop next door. Most people would call it "quiet." I found it tolerable but only because this lovely creature was on my arm. She had quaint manners and was very soft-spoken. She was an associate professor in the Women's Studies program at Asheley University. I was too busy falling in love to realize that the university was six-hundred miles away from my lab. When she mentioned that she had been visiting her favorite uncle I came to my senses and realized that this woman was far out of my reach. The encounter would be brief. The thought of saying goodbye made my heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vise. I asked her what time her train was leaving. I only had five hours to build lasting memories of Rita, with her lovely dark hair and warm green eyes.

We spent most of the afternoon talking. We were comfortable together and I felt like I had known her all my life. I asked her if she would like to tour my lab. She smiled and looked almost joyful. It was not the territory of women. Our secretaries were the only women that were regularly inside. She said she would enjoy seeing the results of "real science" and I knew what I wanted to do. I had dreamed it all my life.

We arrived at the lab. It was quiet and no-one was about on a Saturday afternoon. I took her inside and gave her a tour of our facility. I showed her areas closed to the public, explaining what went on there. She was entranced and I could see the love of science shining in her eyes. She asked questions about everything. She said she would give anything to be accepted into such a program. I sincerely wished that this graceful, intelligent woman could work by my side. I wanted to keep her; to share life with her, but I knew it was impossible.

I took her to my office. It was cluttered but not too bad. I stepped close to her. The warmth of her body was reaching for mine. I pressed my lips to her hair and whispered her name. I told her I had never been with a woman before. I wanted to love her and she knew it, but a woman like Rita would never belong to a man. She would remain solitary for all of her life. I told her my one wish; that she could help me be satisfied. My breath caught in my throat as she looked at me with soulful agreement in her eyes. She went to the small table beside my desk and pulled a record from its' sleeve and put it on the phonograph to play. The music was sweet and melancholy. She came back to stand beside me and I took her in my arms.

My mother taught me to dance when I was fifteen years old. She said no matter my condition, I needed to know how so she could dance with me at my wedding. There was no music but I learned the steps. Holding Rita I felt as if I had been dancing all my life. She smelled of musk and sweet orchids. I could have died. Time was kind to me and slowed. I lived every moment knowing I was alive. The last hour passed. Our dance was over. It was time to say goodbye. There were no tears. I thanked her and hoped she knew I had loved her deeply in our few hours together. I put Rita in a taxi, paid the driver and watched it disappear. Going back into the building I heard faint music coming from my office. I stepped into the room and all I could see was Rita and her shining eyes. One dance with lovely Rita. I sat down and listened to that record. I have been listening all my life.