I don’t want to talk about my life, nor my death. I would rather gush about
my granddaughter. That is a grandmother’s job. Thack Natalie Collins was
born in 1988 in Tāmaki Makaurau, as was her mother, as was I, and as was
my mother. We didn’t know about the voldisil back then, but we all
felt it that day in the maternity ward. The whole hospital, in fact, felt
something change. When she came into this world, she brought with her a
light that no one had ever seen before. Most kept to themselves about it,
but people reported gaining new perspective on the universe, and their place
in it. They could sense how we were all connected, and how everything
mattered. There was no purpose to our reality, but there was an
order, and it all fit together. As she grew older, she proved herself to be
quite the storyteller. Before she could write, she was telling us about a
young man fighting for peace on a chain of islands, and a pair of dolphins
who tried to help humans survive a pandemic. We were so enamored with her,
we didn’t understand where she was coming up with these stories. If pressed,
she could answer nearly any question we threw at her. Where was this
character born, and what was their middle name? What was their favorite
school subject? She responded immediately, not like she knew we would ask
it, but like she already knew everything about this person, so it didn’t
matter what we asked. Occasionally, a follow up question would give her
pause, but she didn’t look like she was trying to come up with an answer.
You know what I mean, that look that people have when they’re contemplating
something. No, her eyes looked more like she had to find the information
from a book laid before her, except there was no book. She was getting the
answers from somewhere, though, and we realized later how literal this was.
All of her stories were actually true.
She witnesses events across time, space, and dimensional barriers. She can
see the entire multiverse. I don’t claim to know how her ability works, or
how she came to possess it. The way she tells it, she has three parents. My
daughter and her husband share her with a third entity, who keeps themselves
hidden from the rest of us. Thack’s father felt violated by this, but sex
seems to have nothing to do with it. Evidently, a human being is normally
given their soul by their god, but for some reason, voldisil receive theirs
from someone living on a lower plane of existence; one that is closer to
ours. Thack doesn’t know much more than that, but she knows just about
everything else. Except about our universe. That appears to be rather hazy
for her, which is probably for the best. Knowing what’s going to happen in
the future for people around you would be an incredible burden that I can’t
fathom. It’s much safer to stay distant from them, and just let them do
their thing. Thack doesn’t live like that, however. She injects herself into
the stories, guiding the right people to the right decisions to make the
cosmic puzzle look the best that it can. She doesn’t interfere too much,
bolstering herself up to be a god herself, or anything. She just
communicates with those who need her the most, and she knows who these
particular people are, because they stand out, and their paths aren’t
completely clear to her. When I was young, our teacher asked us to write a
paper about a person who we admire the most. Most chose historical figures;
scientists and leaders. I think I did mine on a protester who died in
prison. If I could start that all over again, I would choose my
granddaughter, because she’s that amazing.
No comments :
Post a Comment