In 1964, John Bell came up with a way of testing whether quantum theory was a true reflection of reality. In 1982, the results came in – and the world has never been the same since!
Peter dug the two holes equidistant and identical, there in the field, measuring them with precision until convinced of their symmetry and therefore excellence. When he had finished, he simply stood proudly, feeling the wind and the sun, and waiting for Mary Mary to bring the cat. The shovel which he released from his hand promptly collapsed.
From within the tower Mary Mary regarded the inner face of the steeple clock, the hands of time rubbing slowly across it if those of an infinitely weary old man, pale and transparent but in want of wiping away the wrinkles and wear of a long life, to restore his visage and in truth his very faith to that of when it had been translucent, when things used to be so simple.
She lifted the cat, placed it in the black box that Peter had given her, and sealed it.
Descending the upper stairs rapidly, Mary Mary slowed as she neared the bottom even as the momentum of the spiral compelled her otherwise. The metronomic beating of her heart had been dependable to this point but it began now an involuntary acceleration, excited by the movements of the box that were excited (of course) by the movements of the cat.
In the dark confines of the small box, the cat’s energy was physically restricted further as what was previously light transformed to fear. The explosive expansion of the new combined energies allowed for no other possible expression than for the cat’s physical energy to leap to a new wave entirely in order to affect its escape from the box. The cat began to wail.
The yowls, thus emancipated from the box, reached the man and the holes well in advance of the matter from which they had been formed and Peter himself collapsed, rending his clothing as his despair split into two equal portions and fell into the shallow graves.
Mary Mary passed Peter on her way to the river, pausing only for a moment to use her foot to nudge the handle of the shovel closer to his anguished hands as they scrabbled in the loose dirt. Had she spoken, the man would have been unable to hear her over the noise of his grief. The intense weeping and gnashing of teeth served to still the cat completely and Mary Mary’s heartrate restored itself accordingly.
The small motorboat was Peter’s but the sailboat belonged to Mary Mary and she stepped aboard expertly, set down the box, and lifted the sail. The cat emerged, calmly quiet, as the fear instantaneously was restored to light and the expanding universe drew from him new waves of a joyful noise.
Their departure was unhurried as the cat made its way to the bow of the boat to sit purring and regarding the river as they approached the fork ahead. Mary Mary held fast the sail, and turned to look back once at Peter standing knee-deep in the water, watching as the boat took both branches.
He could not have known which to follow had he given chase, and his two Marys sailed away forever, the wind taking his exhaled grief and giving it to the women who laughed at the sight of it.#