keep trying. I close my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress, all the tension from trying to project leaving me. And just when sleep is about to take me, I know I can do it. I think the words from the formula in one of the books: “Leave now. Sit up and leave your body behind.”
Inch by inch I imagine pulling a rope, hand over hand, the ethereal part of me creeping upward while my body stays flat on the bed. It’s slow, but with every little movement I feel myself getting closer to success. Finally, when I feel I’m sitting straight up, my body tingles like I’ve just stepped into an overly hot bath.
It sounds like a melon splitting when it happens. And it’s like I’m free of a heavy shell.
Yes!
This time the shadows stay back. I can sense them. But I don’t hear or see them.
Screw you , I think. I’m doing this .
I bob near the ceiling, looking over the sleeping body of a girl. Me. My hair makes long, dark lines on the pillow. The faint bruise on my forehead shines in the moonlight. Everything around me looks brighter — the blue of my bedspread, the white of the walls. A hushed glow emanates from it all.
I look down at my astral self. My arms and legs and fingers kind of glow from within, like a low-wattage light bulb, a bit fuzzy around the edges. There’s a faint sort of silvery cord connecting me to my body, like a tether.
I move outside and watch the moonlight lick the grass. It’s beautiful. Everything seems clearer, more alive than it normally does. The bushes are laced with white, the edges of each tiny leaf visible and shining. The little patch of geraniums in the window box is a bright spot of red in the dim light. I stay outside, waiting to get yanked back into my body. When it doesn’t happen, I realize that for once, I’m in charge. I can go where I want.
Kevin’s house . I want to go there. I’ve always wanted to go there.
I zip through town, unable to control my speed or my exact trajectory. I whip through telephone poles, tree branches, and chimneys. If anyone saw me they’d die laughing.
Slow down, Sylvie. Keep your cool. I’m able to stop moving and then I concentrate on making my astral body go where I want it to.
I make it to Kevin’s bedroom.
Kevin’s room! I can’t believe it – I’m actually inside of Kevin’s room! Posters of women in bikinis, Brewers’ baseball pennants and postcards from around the world cover three walls. On the far wall, instead of posters, several shelves bend with the weight of all the medals and trophies stacked on them. And in front of those shelves is Kevin, on the bed. Sleeping.
Oh. My. God. I move towards him. He’s in his clothes, a notebook face down on his chest. His bedside light is burning. I move closer to him, close as I dare, and take in the velvety curve of his lashes, the firm line of his chin.
I float around his room, swearing when my hand goes right through everything I want to touch. If only I could rummage through his drawers, check his e-mail ... But all I can do is look. His laptop is off and closed, a grey rectangle at the foot of his bed. Pairs of shoes surf on the waves of clothing strewn about his floor. There’s a box of baseball cards on his desk, next to a banana peel and a half empty can of Coke.
On the other side of the door, a baby wails. It spooks me and before I know it SNAP, like a rubber band, I’m back in my body. My limbs burn. I blink and stay on the bed. The burning feeling passes and my mind clicks in.
I did it. I went to Kevin’s house. I totally did it. I controlled it.
“YEEEEEEEEES!” I pound and kick my mattress with joy until I’m slick with sweat. Outside the window, the moon shines bright and round. I howl at it like some wild dog. It seems closer than usual, bigger.
Like reaching it is so very possible.
Twelve
September: On Top of Spaghetti
I’m hoping to get through Tuesday quickly and uneventfully, so that I can just run home and go astral. But the day
Inch by inch I imagine pulling a rope, hand over hand, the ethereal part of me creeping upward while my body stays flat on the bed. It’s slow, but with every little movement I feel myself getting closer to success. Finally, when I feel I’m sitting straight up, my body tingles like I’ve just stepped into an overly hot bath.
It sounds like a melon splitting when it happens. And it’s like I’m free of a heavy shell.
Yes!
This time the shadows stay back. I can sense them. But I don’t hear or see them.
Screw you , I think. I’m doing this .
I bob near the ceiling, looking over the sleeping body of a girl. Me. My hair makes long, dark lines on the pillow. The faint bruise on my forehead shines in the moonlight. Everything around me looks brighter — the blue of my bedspread, the white of the walls. A hushed glow emanates from it all.
I look down at my astral self. My arms and legs and fingers kind of glow from within, like a low-wattage light bulb, a bit fuzzy around the edges. There’s a faint sort of silvery cord connecting me to my body, like a tether.
I move outside and watch the moonlight lick the grass. It’s beautiful. Everything seems clearer, more alive than it normally does. The bushes are laced with white, the edges of each tiny leaf visible and shining. The little patch of geraniums in the window box is a bright spot of red in the dim light. I stay outside, waiting to get yanked back into my body. When it doesn’t happen, I realize that for once, I’m in charge. I can go where I want.
Kevin’s house . I want to go there. I’ve always wanted to go there.
I zip through town, unable to control my speed or my exact trajectory. I whip through telephone poles, tree branches, and chimneys. If anyone saw me they’d die laughing.
Slow down, Sylvie. Keep your cool. I’m able to stop moving and then I concentrate on making my astral body go where I want it to.
I make it to Kevin’s bedroom.
Kevin’s room! I can’t believe it – I’m actually inside of Kevin’s room! Posters of women in bikinis, Brewers’ baseball pennants and postcards from around the world cover three walls. On the far wall, instead of posters, several shelves bend with the weight of all the medals and trophies stacked on them. And in front of those shelves is Kevin, on the bed. Sleeping.
Oh. My. God. I move towards him. He’s in his clothes, a notebook face down on his chest. His bedside light is burning. I move closer to him, close as I dare, and take in the velvety curve of his lashes, the firm line of his chin.
I float around his room, swearing when my hand goes right through everything I want to touch. If only I could rummage through his drawers, check his e-mail ... But all I can do is look. His laptop is off and closed, a grey rectangle at the foot of his bed. Pairs of shoes surf on the waves of clothing strewn about his floor. There’s a box of baseball cards on his desk, next to a banana peel and a half empty can of Coke.
On the other side of the door, a baby wails. It spooks me and before I know it SNAP, like a rubber band, I’m back in my body. My limbs burn. I blink and stay on the bed. The burning feeling passes and my mind clicks in.
I did it. I went to Kevin’s house. I totally did it. I controlled it.
“YEEEEEEEEES!” I pound and kick my mattress with joy until I’m slick with sweat. Outside the window, the moon shines bright and round. I howl at it like some wild dog. It seems closer than usual, bigger.
Like reaching it is so very possible.
Twelve
September: On Top of Spaghetti
I’m hoping to get through Tuesday quickly and uneventfully, so that I can just run home and go astral. But the day
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