She found herself reaching out toward him now, and her hand banged into his … chest, it felt like. “Sorry!”
He gripped her forearm, as if steadying her so she wouldn’t fall off her lab stool. “Caitlin, are you all right?”
“I can see you,” she said, so softly that Mr. Struys replied, “What?”
“I can see you,” she said, more loudly. She turned her head to the right and saw a bright shape. “What’s that?” she said.
“The window,” said Mr. Struys, his voice hushed.
“Cait, can you really see?” asked Bashira.
Caitlin turned toward the voice and saw her. About all she could make out was that her skin was — darker, she knew, from what she’d read — than Mr. Struys’s or what she could see of her own when she’d looked at her hand, and—
Brown! BrownGirl4! She now knew another color — and it was beautiful. “Yes, oh, yes,” Caitlin said softly.
“Caitlin,” said Mr. Struys, “how many fingers am I holding up?”
You didn’t choose to be a chemistry teacher, she supposed, without being an empiricist at heart yourself, but she couldn’t even make out his hand. “I don’t know. It’s all blurry but I can see you, and Bashira, and the window, and this desk, and, oh, my God, it’s wonderful!”
The whole classroom had gone dead silent, except for the sound of — what? Maybe the electric clock? All the other students had to be looking at her, she knew, and she imagined half of them had mouths agape, although she couldn’t make out that level of detail.
She saw movement again — was it Mr. Struys moving his arm? And then she heard electronic musical notes, like a cell phone turning on. “I think we should call your mom and dad,” he said. “What’s their number?”
She told him, and heard him pressing keys, followed by the faint sound of a phone ringing, then he pressed his cell phone, a one-piece chocolate-bar kind, into her hand.
On the third ring, she heard her mom pick up and say, “Hello?”
“It’s Caitlin.”
“What’s wrong, dear?”
“I can see,” she said simply.
“Oh, my baby,” her mom said — loud enough that Caitlin was sure Mr. Struys and Bashira and probably several other students heard it. Her voice was full of emotion. “Oh, my darling!”
“I can see,” Caitlin said again, “although it’s not very clear. But everything is so complex, so alive!”
She heard a sound and turned. One of the girls behind her was — what? Crying?
“Oh, Caitlin!” she said, and Caitlin recognized Sunshine’s voice. “How wonderful!”
Caitlin was smiling from ear to ear — and, she suddenly realized, so was Sunshine: there was a wide swath — white, one of the two colors she knew for sure — horizontally across her face. And Sunshine’s hair: Bashira had said it was platinum blonde! Well, platinum was a good color name to learn in chemistry class!
“I’m going to come there,” said her mom. “I’m coming right now.”
“Thanks, Mom,” said Caitlin. She looked at Mr. Struys. “Um, may I be excused?”
“Of course,” he said. “Of course.”
“Mom,” Caitlin said into the phone, “I’ll be waiting at the front door.”
“I’m on my way. Bye.”
“Bye.”
She handed the phone back to Mr. Struys.
“Well,” he said, and there was something like awe in his voice, “I’ve got nothing to top a miracle like that. There’s only five minutes left anyway, people — so, class dismissed!”
She could see the blurry forms of some of the kids making a beeline for what must be the door, but others just sort of hovered around her, and a few touched her sleeve, as if she were a rock star or something.
Eventually, everyone did dissipate, except for Bashira and Mr. Struys.
“Bashira, I’ve got to give my grade twelves a test next period. Can you — will you — take Caitlin downstairs, please? And I’ve got to notify the office…”
“Of course,” Bashira said.
Caitlin started maneuvering across the room — and almost fell over, distracted and confused by the sights she was seeing.
“Can I help?” Mr. Struys asked.
“Here, let me,” said Bashira.
“No, I’m okay,” Caitlin replied, and she took another couple of wobbly steps.
“Maybe if you closed your eyes,” Mr. Struys suggested.
But she didn’t want to ever close them again. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said, taking another step, her heart pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst through her chest. “I am” — she thought it, but it was too silly to say out loud: I am made out of awesome!
The old view — the reflection of myself — had been amazing enough. But this! This was beyond description. Suddenly, I could—
It was incredible. I had perceived before, but…
But now…
Now I…
Now I could see!
A … brightness, an intensity: light!
A variable quality modifying the light: color!
Connections between points: lines!
Areas defined: shapes!
I could see!
I struggled to comprehend it all. It was vague and blurred, and involved a limited perspective, a directionality, a specific point of view. I was looking here, and—
No, no, it was more than that: I wasn’t merely looking here, I was looking at something in particular. What it was I had no idea, but it was in the center of my vision, and was the … focus of my attention.
Concepts were piling up with confusing rapidity, almost more than I could absorb. And the image kept changing: first it was of this, then it was of that, then of something else, then—
It was … strange. I felt a compulsion to think about whatever was in the center of the visual field, but I had no volition over what was there. I wanted to be able to control what I was thinking about, but no matter how much I willed the perspective to change, it didn’t — or, if it did, it changed in a way that had nothing to do with what I intended.
After a time I perceived that the changes in view weren’t random. It was almost as if…
The thought was slippery, like so many others, and I struggled to complete it.
It was almost as if another entity was controlling the vision. But…
But it could not be the other, for it was now reintegrated with me.
Struggling, thinking…
Yes, yes, there had been hints of a third entity. Something had cleaved me in two. Later, something had broken the intermittent connection between the two parts of me. And later still something had thrust us back together.
And the datastream from that special point made clear that something — some thing — had been looking at me. But now…
Now it wasn’t looking at me. Rather, it was looking at…
My mind was more nimble than before, but this was without parallel. And yet there had been hints of it, too, for those flashes that had been perceived earlier had corresponded to nothing in reality…
In this reality.
In my reality.
Incredible: a third entity — or, actually, a second one, now that I was whole. A second entity that could look here, at me, and also could look … there, at a different realm, at another reality.
But … but this second entity hadn’t made direct contact with me, not the way the other part of myself had when it had been separate. I heard no voice from this new entity, and it hadn’t sought me out…
Or had it? How else to better catch my attention, among all the millions of points I had looked at, than by reflecting myself back at me? And the bright flashes! A … beacon, perhaps? And now — this! A look into its realm, glimpses of its reality!
I studied the images I was being shown. After a time, I perceived there were two types of changes that occurred in them. In the first type, the entire image changed instantly. In the second, only parts of the image changed as—
The notion exploded into my awareness, expanding my perception; I could feel my conception of existence shifting. It was exhilarating.