Fiction

When Birds of a Feather Don’t Flock Together

A Vision Quest across the Oregon Trail

As Susan Chan pulled the yellow van into a parking space at the Running Bear Hotel in Cheyenne, Wyoming, carrying Professor Simon Kluger and the five PhD candidate students, she turned and commented to Dr Kluger who was sitting beside her, “I’m surprised we’ve come this far without Edward and Elisha killing each other.” Both Edward and Elisha were asleep in the seat behind him. Daniel Chan, Susan’s first cousin, was wide awake, staring out the window from the rear seat with his head seemingly locked in place.

“I’m hoping this trip will finally mitigate this rivalry between them,” Dr Kluger acknowledged. “wouldn’t it be nice for them to come together?”

“I don’t see that happening,” Susan observed. “They’re more like gasoline and a match.”

After stopping the car, she turned her head toward her cousin and asked, “What’s going on, Cousin? What great mysteries are you contemplating?”

“It’s the oddest thought,” he responded, moving his head for the first time. “I’ve had the oddest feeling this whole trip, so far, like I’ve been here before. Every sight along the way seems to be familiar to me. Even this parking lot. But I’ve never been to Wyoming in my life.”

“That’s the result of dopamine sensitivity in the neural synapses,” Susan responded. “It’s not a real sensation.”

Dr Kluger climbed out of the van and walked toward the hotel, “I’ll go and make the arrangements. Two rooms. One for you and Elisha and the other for the men.”

“Don’t take too long, Professor. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep right in this seat.”

She turned again to Daniel Chan and told him, “This feeling you’re having is a neurological artifact. It’s just a common anachronism in the way memories are encoded in the brain.”

“I remember your undergraduate degree was in neurobiology,” Daniel commented. “This is not an anachronism.”

Daniel climbed out of the van and stood outside on the pavement waiting for Dr Kluger to return. A cool breeze was blowing and Susan could feel the breeze through the open side door of the van.

“This seems like a waste of resources,” he told her, “No matter who’s funding this project.”

“I don’t think Professor Kluger would take us all on a fool’s errand,” Susan replied. “He’s adamant that we are going to find something there. I want to trust him.”

Daniel spoke a few words in Mandarin to her. It was a Chinese proverb.

“Don’t trust any man too much,” He repeated the same proverb in English.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed and Susan was having difficulty keeping her eyes open.

“I never dreamed I’d be driving from San Francisco to Pennsylvania,” she told him.

“I never believed I’d be along for the ride,” Daniel agreed.

Dr Kluger returned with keys for both rooms and a complimentary gift box of chocolates.

“Chocolates,” he told them, “compliments of the hotel.” He paused. “We’re in rooms eleven and twelve on the ground floor.”

“What time is it?” Daniel asked.

“According to my watch it’s eleven o’clock,” Dr Kluger responded.

“Should we rouse our sleeping companions?” Susan asked.

“Let them sleep for a while longer,” Dr Kluger acknowledged. “When they are asleep they are not arguing.”

“What do you hope to find, Professor, when we get to Pennsylvania?” she asked him.

“So you’re beginning to doubt our mission?” Dr Kluger asked.

“My cousin is skeptical of everything,” Daniel interjected. “We called her the skeptic when she was young. Her favourite question was ‘why?’ Even in Mandarin it can be annoying!”

“I still want to know why. What’s wrong with that?” she responded.

“Nothing wrong with it. But I believe there are some questions for which there are no satisfactory answers,” Daniel asserted.

“I sense this touch of sibling rivalry between you,” Dr Kluger observed. “So why did you become a physicist, Mr. Chan?”

“I couldn't call myself a physicist yet. I don’t have my Ph.D. yet.”

“I’m tired,” Susan complained, “Can we go to our rooms now?”

“Of course, which room do you want, eleven or twelve?”

“Eleven,” she responded.

Dr Kluger went to the back of the van, opened the door briefly to look inside and then returned to the front again.

“I still don't see why we need all of this equipment,” Daniel observed. “What are expecting to find?”

Susan retrieved a small bag from the floorboard on the back seat and began to walk toward the hotel entrance. The two men followed behind her. When they entered the long corridor through the double glass doors, they immediately noticed the distinctive Native American motif of the interior of the hotel, with rugs and tapestries with Navajo designs. At the end of the corridor, they see a painting of an upright black bear. Even number rooms were on the right and odd number rooms on their left with the numbers in descending order. The first two rooms were 21 and 22. Susan didn’t know why she even noticed these details, given how exhausted she was from her driving. When she reached the doorway of room number 11, she immediately stuck the key in the lock, but it wouldn’t open. Daniel joined her and tried himself. He also could not get the key to open the door.

“You’re sure this is the right key?”Daniel asked.

“You’re not insinuating I mixed up the keys, are you?” Dr Kluger responded,

“I’m too tired to insinuate anything, Professor Kluger. Just let me try the other key.”

This key also did not work.

“Did the desk clerk look exhausted?” Daniel asked. “Maybe he gave you the wrong key?”

Dr Kluger took the key from Susan’s hand and the door opened easily.

“No, why in the hell did that work now?”

“Maybe Dr Kluger is a shaman,” Susan suggested. “He can reconfigure keys with his mind.” She was half-joking.

Daniel walked across the hall to room 12 with the other key and it wouldn’t open that door either. He handed the key to Dr Kluger and told him, “You try this one as well.”

Dr Kluger reluctantly tried the key and it opened immediately.

“That’s the oddest thing,” Daniel explained. He held the key up to his eyes. “It’s like there’s something in the key that recognizes your fingers.”

“They’re just metal keys,” Susan almost chastised him. “You’re reading into this something impossible.” She turned to Dr Kluger. “I have to you my cousin has a very vid imagination.”

“We need someone with a vivid imagination. We have to be able to think outside the box.”

With both doors open they entered their rooms. The rooms were nearly identical with two queen size beds and a small table with two chairs near the back of the room. Susan put her bag down on a dresser.

“I could go to bed this minute,” Susan expressed. On a small cabinet near the front door, she saw a vase of flowers with an index card reading, “Compliments of the manage, Jonathan Pearl.”

Across the hall, Daniel and Dr Kluger were also checking out their roo. An identical vase of flowers had also been left in their room, but with no card. They took no notice of it at all.

“We should go back and wake the other two,” Dr Kluger told him. “We have a lot of driving ahead and I want to be on the road again as soon as possible.”

“So we’re not going to play tourist for a few hours tomorrow,” Daniel acknowledged.

“Not if I can help it. I have a strict schedule for our journey.”

“It’s your ballgame, Professor.”

While Susan was making herself comfortable in the hotel room, the two men returned to the van where Elisha and Edward were still sleeping. These two rivals were surprisingly leaning against each other while they slept. Elisha’s head was resting on Edward’s shoulder.

“When they are awake,” Dr Kluger explained, “they’re often bitter rivals. They’re never closer than a meter to each of her.”

“Perhaps we should take a photo of them like this,” Daniel suggested. “When they go into one of their conflagrations, just show them the photograph.”

“You’d probably wake them with a flash right now,” Dr Kluger commented.

“I have this camera with this brand new high-speed film in my bag. It’s supposed to be able to take photographs in very low light. It’s worth a shot.”

Daniel reached into the open side door and retrieved his backpack from the floor. Then he put the bag on the front hood of the van. After unzipping the top zipper, he retrieved an expensive SLR camera which he began to adjust for the photograph.

“That’s an expensive camera,” Dr Kluger acknowledged.

“You’d be surprised where I got this camera. It belonged to the photographer Michael Bouvier. I bought it on the internet. It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve been taking photographs since I was seven.”

Daniel took the camera to the side of the van and positioned himself for the photograph. It took him several attempts until he was finally satisfied with his position. Then he took three photographs of them while they slept. He returned to his bag and closed the zipper.

“I hope you don’t mind my taking pictures of our vision quest.”

“Go right ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking about what to call our journey and vision quest seems the perfect moniker.”

“So how is Professor Abercromby doing these days?”

“Don’t tell him I said this. But he is a pain in the ass. He is my PHD advisor and he let me come on this journey. So I’m happy about that.”

They both stood a moment still watching Elisha and Edward sleeping.

“So which one of us, Professor, gets the privilege of waking our sleeping ‘dragons’?”

“Go ahead, Daniel. I’ve played referee between them for years now.”

Daniel crawled into the open door and began to speak, “wake up, you two. we’re at the hotel now.”

Neither of them responded.

“I don’t want to shout at them.”

“Can you whistle?” Dr Kluger asked.

“Yea, a little.”

“Whistle as loud as you can and see if that elicits a response.”

Daniel struggled a moment and then began to whistle, first muffled and then growing louder in pitch until the intensity of the sound became almost unbearable. Both Elisha and Edward began to squirm, then opened their eyes and lifted their heads. Daniel stopped whistling and had to catch his breath.

“Where are we?” Elisha asked slowly.

“You’re on middle earth,” Daniel answered sardonically. “Sauron in Mordor is trying to find the ring.”

Edward then opened his eyes and stretched his arms into the air. He finally took off his seatbelt.

“What’s going on? What was that whistling?” Edward asked.

“That whistling was Daniel Chan,” Dr Kluger responded. “We’re in Cheyenne at the hotel and we could all use a good night’s sleep.”

Edward began to crawl out of his seat toward the open door.

“Ladies first,” Elisha snapped at him. “You always were the one to throw all etiquette aside.”

“I’m not letting you leave the van first simply because you are a woman. If I’m quicker out the door, why shouldn’t I leave first?”

“Because the social conventions are the lubricant of courtesy and civility.”

“The day I abjure to your demands hasn’t arrived.”

Everyone could sense another confrontation was about to begin.

“We’re on good behaviour on this trip,” Dr Kluger scolded them. “One argument, one harsh sentence between you and I’ll fail you both. No PHDs for either of you.”

“I didn’t start this,” Edward responded.

Edward climbed out of the van and stood groggily on the pavement and then Elisha climbed out. Neither of them said another word. This was the first time in months Dr Kluger was able to deescalate their tensions.

“Where is Susan?” she asked.

“Susan is in your room,” Dr Kluger responded. “I suggest we all go into our respective rooms and try to get a decent night’s sleep.”

When they arrived at their rooms, a male hotel employee was waiting in the hallway with a roll away bed.

“Where do I put the bed?” he asked them.

“In this room,” Dr Kluger pointed and opened the door with the key.

The young man rolled the bed into the room and began to set it up adjacent to the bathroom door. After he finished his work, he turned around and put his hand out for a tip. Dr Kluger handed him a five-dollar bill.

“Breakfast starts at eight o’clock,” he responded. “Thank you.” Then he left.

“I’m going to check and see if the women are OK,” Dr Kluger explained and he left the room. When he entered the hallway, he could see that Susan was again struggling with the key.

“I thought you were already settled in,” he told her.

“I went to the van to get my notebook. It was locked.” She hesitated. “It’s OK, I’m just going to bed.”

He took the key from her and again easily opened the lock.

“I’d swear there is something in this key that recognizes my hand,” Dr Kluger commented. He looked a moment at the simple metal key and then handed it back to her.

“Good night, Ladies,” he told them, as he took a peek into their room.

He leaned over to Susan and whispered, “They nearly had another conflict at the car. Please help her to be calm.”

“OK,” she whispered back to him. “Good night. It will be OK, I’m certain.”

“Good night, Professor,” Elisha responded from inside.

“What time do you want us up?” Susan asked.

“Eight o’clock. I’d like to be on the road by no later than eleven.”

Dr. Kluger returned to the room across the hall. Both of his companions were sitting on each of the queen size beds.

“I hope you’re not consigning me to this roll away bed,” he told them. “Remember. I’m the man with the grade book.”

“No, Professor,” Daniel responded. “I have something at least in theory entirely random.”

He opened his bag and removed an oval-shaped leather cup and dumped 5 dice on the table.

“Yahtzee,” he explained. “It’s an odd habit of mind. playing with dice to calculate probabilities.”

This had been one of his obsessions as an undergraduate, and he found an effective exercise to improve his powers of concentration. Each of the people that Dr Kluger had chosen to accompany him had a special skill set that he hoped would mesh and enhance the entire team.

Daniel took two of the dice and separated them from the others.

“I’m surprised that one of the preeminent PhD candidates in the US would spend his time playing Yahtzee,” Edward commented sardonically. “It seems as pointless an exercise as card playing.”

“I play cards,” Dr Kluger responded. “It helps me relax. I even brought a deck of cards to play gin rummy.”

“Sure, why not?” Edward laughed, realising what a mistake his remarks had been. “I’ll play gin rummy.”

“So we are going to toss dice to see who gets the roll away?” Edward noted.

“Of course,” Daniel acknowledged. “High or low?”

“High,” Dr Kluger answered.

“I’ll go first then.” Daniel tossed the dice on the table and it came up six and five. “It looks like I’m getting the roll away.”

“One of us could get double sixes,” Dr Kluger noted.

“Not likely,” Daniel responded.

Edward went next and hesitated a moment before he tossed. His dice also came up six and five. “Now that’s unusual,” he responded.

Daniel was calculating the statistics in his head. For years, first in high school and then in college he had competed in mathematics competitions.

“Your turn, Professor Kluger.”

Dr Kluger also took the dice and tossed them on the table and likewise his dice came up six and five.

“What are the odds, Daniel?” Dr Kluger asked him. “Of three consecutive rolls of the same numbers.

“5 out of 12,” he responded. It’s not that rare.”

“And your sure there is nothing odd about these dice? We’re in room number 12 and there are five of us in total.”

“Are you trying to say there is some connection between these numbers and our room number?” Daniel asked him.

“I’m just noticing the patterns. That’s all.”

Dr Kluger lifted the two dice, held them in the palm of his hand and looked at them. After a few moments, he rolled them around on the table.

“Alright. Time out a moment. I want to throw a few tosses to see if they are OK.”

He began to throw the dice and after eleven tosses, each number that came up seemed entirely random.

“I told you the dice were Ok. I’ve played with these dice hundreds of times.”

“Do you want to try again?” Daniel asked. “Why don’t you start, Professor?”

Dr Kluger reluctantly took the dice and this time double sixes came up. Edward and Daniel followed also throwing double sixes.

“What are the odds of that?” Dr Kluger asked.

“One in 7776,” Daniel answered.

“This is the kind of thing that happens in dreams,” Dr Kluger spoke, “not in a hotel room in Cheyenne Wyoming at nearly two in the morning.”

“So what do you suggest now, Professor?” Daniel asked him.

“I’ll take the roll away.” Dr Kluger answered. “Put your magic dice away for the night.”

Simon knew he was too tired to contemplate what was happening. He pulled off his shoes, pulled back the blanket on the mattress and crawled awkwardly into the bed.

“Goodnight,” he told his companions. “When you’re finished with your preparations, please turn off the light.”

He shifted his body to make himself more comfortable, though this task was a daunting one on a bed that was clearly too small for his six-foot frame.

Edward took off his shoes and then went into the bathroom. Daniel went into the bed closest to the window, kicked off his shoes and climbed inside the comforter. Reaching over to the lamp beside his bed, he turned off his light. Within five minutes he was asleep. Only Edward seemed to have difficulty going to sleep. He sat on the other bed with a pillow propped behind his back, as he wrote in a small notebook. These were three different men, all sharing a common vocation. None of them approached the sciences in the same way. Dr Kluger had wanted as diverse a group as possible for his expedition. He was hoping by the time they arrived they’d be able to work as a team. If he had been a praying man, he would have said a short prayer of divine blessing on their journey, but Dr Kluger, like many physicists had abandoned any religious sentiments as a child. He still believed there was some legerdemain involved in the dice episode because the other explanation dancing in his mind was too frightening to believe.

Edward was the last to fall asleep. He sat quietly in the dark for over an hour trying to block from his awareness all the random noise coming through the walls. He had always had difficulty sleeping when there was any ambient noise in the room. This hotel was satiated with all kinds of noise and the darkness seemed to amplify every audible pitch that came into his ears. He could even hear his own heartbeat in its regular cycle of 72 beats per minute. He was reminded of when he was a child of eight when he had similar difficulty sleeping and he had carefully counted out the beats with a lighted digital watch laid on his chest and discovered his heart would beat at seventy-two. Then the oddest question popped into his mind, ‘What is the significance of 72?’ He tried to push the question out of his mind, but it came back even stronger.

“Seventy-two,” he repeated to himself. “Six times twelve, three days,” he spoke out loud. He thought about all of the permutations of 72 he had come across in nearly twelve years of university education, from physical constants to the element Hafnium. He even remembered religious references from a course he had taken as an undergraduate, from the seventy-two rabbis who had translated the Greek Septuagint, to the Seventy-two disciples sent by Jesus in the Gospel of Luke. The numbers morphed and undulated before his mind’s eye, like clouds carried by tropospheric winds. Edward had always had this fascination with numbers, from the time when he first learned to count his fingers and toes, and then all the objects within the purview of his five senses. His natural aptitude for numbers had taken him to one of the top PhD programs in the nation. It took him exactly seventy-two minutes to fall asleep.

In White Plains nearly 1760 miles away, my father Peter Margolis also had trouble sleeping. He had spent his own ritual sitting in our darkened living room, thinking about his circumstances. It was not something he had done often in his life, but his conversation with Elizabeth Fox had brought a plethora of questions to the surface. He was surprised when the light went on in my room, and he got up from our living room sofa to go upstairs to see what was going on. When he arrived upstairs, I was awake drawing on my bed.

“I just wish, Jonathan, you would tell me what is going on?” he spoke softly to himself. He looked around the room again with all the pictures taped unto the wall, and he began to count them all. Seventy-one drawings of various sizes he counted one by one. I was sketching my seventy-second drawing frenetically on my bed. He had never seen me drawing so quickly. He breathed deeply and held his breath a few moments until he could no longer bear to hold it inside. Then he moved closer to the bed, and he could finally see the drawing of three me, throwing dice on a table. He was afraid to say a word to me. I seemed completely preoccupied. Then I stopped a moment and turned my head toward him.

“Please go to sleep, Daddy. Nothing’s wrong.”

He was surprised by these words of encouragement spoken clearly and deliberately as though I knew what he was thinking.

“Everything is wrong,” my father told himself as he stood in the doorway, “for a very long time.”

Then I reached into the fold of my bed and removed another folded drawing. I unfolded the drawing, which was clearly of my mother and I then proceeded to tape the drawing in an empty space on the eastern wall of my room. This was the only drawing of my mother, his wife, that my father could remember me ever having drawn. This prompted even more profound questions. My father returned downstairs to the darkened living room and eventually fell asleep.

I was determined that even with my mother I would find a way to make it right!