The Henry Effect

 

The small sofa was beginning to lose its comfort after an hour of sitting and listening to the faint muffled sounds of the foreign city outside. It wasn’t unlike being home visiting the cemetery—listening to the sounds of life flirt with each other on a willing wind. Similar, but not quite the same.

Being here in a strange country, the isolation of encroaching madness, the visions, the impossible questions… The darkness and emptiness, the nothingness felt in that one instant from the vision was overwhelming. He looked up at the window that separated him from the outside world. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He needed to be with other people—to feel life—to fill the emptiness.

The streets were busy as the people made their way to destinations of importance. Everyone seemed to have a place to go, a schedule to keep. For many, time was an adversary, always nipping at their heels, causing them to hop or skip in a frantic race to find more of what was allocated. For a precious few, it was an ally. Planning and knowledge facilitated understanding that allowed for a sure and steady pace in their race against rats. He watched and wondered where they were all going—homes, jobs, appointments, friends, husbands…a wife and family maybe.

Ahead was a large community square and a tall fountain at its center with water spilling over its sides into a surrounding pool. Hundreds of people traversed over the intricate stone designs, many in narrow lines like ants following a leader making their way to a mass transit system somewhere. He was intrigued by the large open space, elaborate buildings, statues and trees. The essence of life was everywhere.

The fountain seemed to be a popular gathering place for many different types of people. Gray haired men sat and talked while children ran around its edge to the dismay of some older and wiser. Even in the chaos of noise from voice and machinery, some could still hide themselves away in a world of their own to sit on an old wood and metal park bench, knees pulled up close as they read a favorite book.

Ethan stood in the middle of the square not far from the fountain and looked around. He wondered about these people and what their individual or combined ambitions might be—what they must believe in, how they perceive their lives. What would they do if they knew their existence was about to end? How would they react? How many would run in panic and fear and how many would stand and accept death either bravely or otherwise? He watched them and looked in their faces as they passed, knowing that whatever terrible fears or courageous convictions they held within them, to either cherish in strength or to despise in ignorance, were theirs alone.