4 THEORIES AND PLANS
“Let me start by saying my academic research doesn’t go into the metaphysical, so this isn’t my professional opinion,” Leah starts.
“There is no scientific evidence of an afterlife. From an atheistic, purely scientific point of view, when someone dies, their brain remains active until the body runs out of oxygen. Then it’s just a body—flesh and bone. There is no tangible evidence, scientifically, for anything after that.”
“I understand,” I say, nodding. “I’m not religious, but this doesn’t seem connected to my beliefs. I’m a technical guy who believes in using evidence and facts.”
“It could feel like Stacy is calling out to you from beyond the grave,” Leah continues. “The concept is abundant in literature and entertainment. However, much of it is wishful thinking for dramatic effect. Honestly, that might also be what you’re experiencing, babe.”
“Just an overactive imagination?” I reply.
“Perhaps,” Leah states. “Now I’m going to shift into more speculative but also more grounded explanations for what’s happening while you’re dreaming. You’ve had a very active week, both physically and emotionally.
Your new activities have stirred up synaptic pathways in your brain that haven’t been stimulated for years. Also, new synapses are lighting up, connecting to dormant portions of your memories. While you sleep, your mind tries to make sense of all the novel activity.”
When she pauses, I say, “Okay.” I nod, recalling how the human mind works while learning how artificial intelligence works. AI tries to mimic the seemingly random electrical impulses in the mind by using neural networks to simulate brain activity.
“When you dream, your whole brain is active—wildly—especially during REM sleep. That stands for Rapid Eye Movement. The only quiet parts of your brain are the regions responsible for motor control and physical movement, which are mostly shut down. When you’re in REM,
your brain is more awake than the rest of your body. Humans are very visual animals, so while in REM, the visual processing parts of your brain are very active.”
“So that’s what’s responsible for dreams?” I ask, trying to piece it together.
“Not solely. Every part of your brain is active. When you’re asleep, the brain sorts through recent memories and tries to store both explicit and implicit memories in long-term memory. The process is called memory consolidation, and it’s well established in the study of the mind.”
She pauses, and I sort through her explanation. “I’m with you.”
“This is my hypothesis,” Leah explains. “In memory consolidation, our minds dig through long-term memories as they sort through the short-term memories, and sometimes those neural chains spill into our dreams.”
“So that explains the first dream, going back and reliving camping with Stacy.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Leah replies.
“But the next dream isn’t as straightforward. It’s connected, but I think it’s also wound up in our unexplainable experiences near the spring. Your mind might try to make sense of the new experiences in light of your past. But that merely explains what we think we understand from science.”
“Okay, that makes sense.”
“But remember, Kurt. Science can’t explain things that can’t be measured or quantified. I don’t think what we’re going through—what you’re going through—can only be explained by science. As a believer in fate, I want to place more importance on your second dream. But as a scientist,
I can’t prove any connections.”
“I understand,” I say, then pause to see if she will pick up another thread. When Leah remains silent, I continue. “I was exhausted and had the first dream I consciously remember in a very long time. I get what you’re saying about new experiences activating dormant parts of my brain.”
“It’s complex and open to interpretation,” Leah says, and I can picture her nodding with her soft, caring smile. “It’s okay to keep thinking about it. Did Stacy reach out from beyond? I wish I could say she did, but I can’t use any real science to confirm that.”
“Okay, that helps me. Moving on,” I exhale, releasing my remaining anxiety, then glance at Paige. “What is the status for Operation Full Moon Midnight Fuck, or whatever we’re going to call it.”
“Ginny’s not with you, right?” Leah asks.
“She and Bea are driving together,” Paige says. “I gathered all the gear you asked me to, along with the old quilts from the den.”
“I should tell you, Kurt,” Amy says. “I called Donna earlier to ask her some questions. She might suspect what we’re doing but won’t interfere. She said the park rangers don’t patrol after ten, and the park gates are locked at the highway.”
“I think we should plan to camp at the cove campground on the opposite end of the lake,” Leah says right after Amy finishes.
“A section of the McKensie River Trail runs along the eastern side of the lake from the campground to the spring. It’s slightly longer than hiking from Donna’s diner, but not by much because of how that side loops around the northern part of the lake.
We can make it to the fallen tree an hour before midnight if we leave after ten. The path winds through the old-growth forest and the lava plains. Without as many trees, the full moon can light the way through the rocky section.”
I think back to my nature hike with Paige last week. We’d hiked that part of the trail in our loop around the lake, and I remember it wasn’t all deep forest like it was near the lodge. “We’re still taking flashlights for safety, right?”
“We’ve got them all in the packs,” Leah says. “We need to be careful but not reckless. We have everything we need. Including tents to make it look like we’re camping, even if we end up not sleeping in them.”
“I reserved two tent camping spots with the park service,” Amy says. “We’re not breaking any laws going on a night hike. The park rangers don’t know about or patrol near the altar; they only maintain the forest service trails that encircle the lake and spring.”
“What is your read on Ginny?” I ask Paige. “Did she talk about it during the drive down?”
“She’s excited and full of anticipation,” Paige says. “I recounted the trip we took for you and Leah. I still remember the location. The hike from Cold Water Cove will be easy if the moon is full.”
“The weather forecast says clear skies with no clouds or chance of rain,” Amy reports. “It won’t be too cold, but the quilts are a smart move. We’ll have to split the load between us.”
“Okay, I think we’re good.” I laugh aloud. “We’re not invading a foreign country. This is more like a high school kegger near the lake, only without the beer.”
“And a lot more sex.” Amy giggles.
“It’s a good thing I don’t wear condoms. We won’t have to police the area for stray foil wrappers.” I wink at Paige.
“That would be the biggest crime,” Leah says, and I picture her smirking. “This is to formally bring Ginny into the circle, but I don’t think anyone will complain if you knock her up tonight.”
“I think you should give it your best shot,” Amy says, busting into giggles.
When we say our goodbyes and disconnect the call, I relax in the passenger seat. “Are you okay driving?” I ask Paige.
“Yeah, babe. I’m fine. Try to get some sleep the rest of the way. I’ll wake you when we’re close.”