Night Time Rendezvous

The fire crackled softly in the waning afternoon on the mountain side. He had just woken up from a peaceful nap on the reclining sofa whose legs pointed in the direction of the stone fireplace of the cabin. “It’s almost time” he thought. Stretching his legs out, he mustered a powerful yawn that did wonders in shaking off the lingering restfulness. As his feet reached the floor, he delighted in the soft rug that hugged the crevasses of his toes.

With a slow walk, he made his way to the kitchen area. The kitchen sat in the corner of the square cabin, with its counter tops forming a right angle along the walls. Four windows above the counters provided a breathtaking panorama of the westward facing view from the mountain side. The steep slope from which the cabin was perched, rolled downward for a distance, and the land beyond showcased a long misty valley of snaking rivers and tributaries bookended by a snow-capped range in the blue-tinged distance. 

The pot began to boil as he gently poured its steaming contents into his coffee mug. Instant coffee was, of course, not ideal, but in this environment, he thought to himself, he could not be any happier. Coffee cup in hand he opened the front the door to the patio just outside the kitchen windows. He found his cushioned wicker seat and sat gazing outward with a slight squint in his eyes toward the distance. 

Since his accident, Kevin’s life took a dramatic detour, but he could not complain. He literally had the world at his fingertips and at the moment, those fingertips were content being wrapped around this warm cup of coffee. “Time to get going.” He said aloud to no one in particular as he finished his cup. He rose from his seat and, in an instant, the cabin was empty. 

It was not a large library. It occupied a two-story structure in the middle of town, and for decades served both the meandering and the specific interests of the passing generations of readers. It had its volumes of reference material. Whole sections dedicated to the education of “dummies” who seek to learn about Microsoft Word, cellphones, backyard gardening, and html most of which were woefully outdated. It had its collection of local and regional newspapers, whose headlines trumpeted the recent winner of the town’s baking competition and recaps of town hall meetings regarding proposed mass transit routes. The second story contained the bulk of the library’s catalog of fiction and non-fiction titles. Rows of World War II histories, written by amateur historians with dubious attention to details. Shelves littered with Young Adult novels, heavily dogeared and loved by the generation of the town’s high school students, many of whom have since left in search of greater adventures. Paperback science fiction novels with fading artwork of dramatized scenes of outer worldly landscapes sat across from the memoirs of historical figures, both national and local. “My Life” by President Bill Clinton abutted “My Life on 24th Street” the underappreciated, self-published retelling of the life of Mr. Graham Moore, the founder of the town’s bank, who grew up just down the road. 

At night, the library sat still. The darkness only illuminated by the streetlights from the many windows that covered its tall walls. Kevin walked confidently through the rows of books casted in the shadows. Kevin passed through the stacks and away from the Home Design section and he could feel the cool atmosphere of the air conditioning outlying the main circulation area. He had been through each aisle countless times before and could practically navigate toward the books he loved in complete darkness by memory. 

He was excited for a new addition to the library’s collection. Every now and again, donations would stream into the library from benefactors, schools, or personal collections. These were exhilarating moments. One title in particular, Kevin thought particularly intriguing. Working his way toward the New Arrivals section, he saw it. The maroon paper back edition of Walter Isaacson’s “Einstein: His Life and Universe”. Seeing the bent spine of the book, Kevin took a deep breath and reached toward it. His fingertips felt the cracked bindings and the familiar rush of sensation filled him. 

He had been to Zurich once or twice before, but never in this period. He stood on the steps of the Zurich Polytechnic Institute The more than four story complex stood tall against the blue sky, its columns high against the top story, appearing to hold up the thick roof above the large curved windows with its flowing white curtains hanging within. He waited beside the short stairway that led to the main entrance. He knew it would only be a matter of time. 

It was not long before he saw a slight man, somewhat disheveled hastily walking across the area before Kevin. “Remarkable” Kevin thought. Before him was one of the greatest minds to ever exist in our world. A young Albert Einstein, looked only a few feet ahead of his steps, seemingly lost in thought. He knew much of this story. It was a rare occasion in this time period to see Einstein at the University. He often skipped classes, choosing instead to study from the notes of his friends and classmates like Marcel Grossman before examinations. This characteristic was not well received, and certainly this period in his life could not have foretold the greatness of this man in the years to come. Kevin knew that after receiving his diploma, Einstein had struggled to find a position in a university. 

He would not approach the great man, but felt the need to see him in this critical period in his life. This was far before Einstein's world-changing breakthroughs, before his work reshaped the way in which we look at the universe and ourselves within it. He knew from experience that making a connection with the players of the stories had no impact outside of this narrow universe, but it was still too soon. 

The scene faded, and Kevin began a leisurely stroll down the shaded walkway in Princeton, New Jersey. He did a recap of the timeline he had learned previously. By this time, Einstein had already been awarded the Nobel Prize for his groundbreaking work on quantum theory. The Second World war had not yet begun, but the fire of nationalism in Germany was already reaching a fevered pitch. Einstein had just been appointed to the Institute of Advanced Study in Princeton University, where he was presently spending a year in the United States. Kevin knew that soon he would submit his resignation to the Prussian Academy of Sciences along with his intent not to return to Germany. 

Kevin knew these streets well, albeit in another age. He remembered his time in this small town. The aspirations he had for himself and the pride he carried with him from his family back home. Their son was a Princeton man. That was several universes ago it seemed now. 

He came across the house Einstein resided in. Looking up toward the wooden porch that faced the quite street, he saw the man. Sitting on his chair, chewing the end of a tobacco pipe.

Kevin approached Einstein and, signaling his arrival, respectfully, lowering his head slightly, and said "Good afternoon Professor." 

Looking as though he was lost in thought, Einstein took a moment to look at his visitor and said warmly in his characteristic accent "Hello young man. What can I do for you?"

"I just had a brief question for you sir." Kevin responded. 

"Please do ask" Einstein motioned with his hands.

"I was curious what you made of that new theory of yours"

"That my dear boy is a controversial subject to be sure" Einstein responded, taking a puff of his pipe. "I'm just hoping that someday the world will realize the beauty in its basic simplicity." 

"Why is it so controversial Professor?" 

"Because my dear boy. Any hope of there being order in this universe is an illusion. It is a fantasy which my dear friend Max has taken hold of."

Kevin smiled at the response. He was brimming with enthusiasm over his new found ability to converse with the great mind of our time. He had so much to ask him, questions that may bring light to the circumstances Kevin found himself in. He wished to ask him of his theories of light, the concepts of time and the structure of our universe. He wished to tell him that his theories would find validation in the generations of scientists that will proceed him, and the work that persists in tying his vision of the universe to the particles that constitute our quantum realm, but there will be time for that. 

While the story progressed in its time, Kevin knew that the clock above the library still ticked away as he reveled in this new experience. It would be day soon. With that, Kevin thanked the great professor, bid him a respectful farewell, and walked down the street. 

He took a moment to look at the maroon book when he returned. Daylight was fast approaching and he thought of all the things he would ask upon his next visit. There is always tomorrow night he decided and walked back toward the Home and Design section, where books of glamorous mansions and idyllic farm houses aimed to spur creativity among its readers. He scanned the shelf, seeing the worn edition of "The Cabins of Appalachia". He reached out his hand just as the clock struck 6:00am and felt the stiff dust cover surrounding the hard bound tome. 

He watched the sunrise from the mountainside. "Not a bad day at all." he thought. Feeling the slight pain of loneliness of the expanse, he felt comforted by the fact that he had a universe of experiences yet to explore, and in the night, through the corridors of the library, he would be with his friends again . He walked through the wooden door of the cabin, took off his shoes and laid on the well adorned rustic bed to drift off into a perfectly sound sleep.