The Ghost of Albert Einstein
The way Benny had explained it to me, ghosts, especially those of famous people are very rarely the person’s actual spirit. They are particles and light animated by the power of common dreams.
The ghost of Albert Einstein sat on a bench up the street with his back to Central Park’s wall. Hardly fifteen minutes had passed since the renowned professor took a moment from his undying pursuit of the theory of everything to speak with me. We had a real nice chat, yet given what happened afterwards, it seems that he had let me into his orderly universe and I introduced chaos.
As I remember it, I had passed the bench where Einstein sat and had yet to see any sign of a ghost. The professor should have let me walk on by . . .
Twilight had settled over the park. From the sidewalk that runs along 5th Avenue, I spotted a puff of white on a park path. It looked to be more than 100 feet away. I scrunched my eyes and wondered if it was an apparition. I lowered my gaze. The vague outline of a man materialized on the bench just behind me. He was hunched a bit. A closer looked revealed the puff of white was actually his hair.
The ghost’s eyes were chinked and there was a light in them that bordered both fascination and discovery. He had the sweetest expression. It occurred to me that he was enjoying the spooky nature of the gloaming hour. Many people go out of their way to pass by Central Park during that hour. Most are not conscious that there is a paranormal connection.
When I realized it was Einstein on the bench, a rush of verve and nervousness ran through me. I stepped back. I had wanted to give him space, and not say a word.
There was a tranquil silence about the professor that I didn’t want to break.
(Central Park/5th Ave sidewalk – Photo by Joe)
My eyes flashed to the shadows that drifted over the outskirts of the park. Some shadows were sleek, others were hazy. Without looking at the professor, it occurred to me that we both were in awe of our surroundings. “It’s nice, huh,” I uttered mostly to myself, and was surprised when his gentle eyes lighted on me.
“Very much so,” Einstein said.
“You’re still working, right?” I said as my gaze traced his airy figure.
“On what?” I asked, tentatively.
“A single vision–” he began, his soft timber giving indication of a German accent.
I leaned closer and raised my brows.
“–one formula that will explain everything.”
“From the large gravitational forces of the planets–to the smallest atomic forces,” he said, and looked up to the canopy of trees that hung over our heads out to the middle of the street. “A theory of everything.”
“You think you’ll find it here, in NY,” I said without thought.
His eyes twinkled as he seemed to consider what I had said.
“Many disparate forces are at work in this city,” I said, breathlessly. “And they come together, maybe not as one but close to it.” I didn’t know if I expressed myself clearly, though was glad when he chuckled.
“Yes,” he said.
I was going to let him mull it over, yet he tilted his head and focused fully upon me. I felt impelled to say more. “You may be able to feel it. There’s a force, there’s real energy, there is a soul,” I said and pointed haphazardly like I was dancing. My leg shook a little, but only because I was nervous.
The professor cocked his head.
“That’s why you’re in NYC, right?” I said, unable to contain a daft smile.
“So many reasons, but yes, my search must have brought me here for a purpose,” he said and his eyes grew distant.
I wondered if I should also mention the people, art, architecture, and a whole host of other things that influence the flow of energy in NY. But it hit me that Einstein would know better than me all the forces at work here.
I lingered a minute or two more. The professor seemed so deep in thought that I decided to leave him be.
On my way back down 5th, I had a huge smile. What I wouldn’t give to relieve the next few moments, because I wound up giving Einstein’s whereabouts to a demon, who then shot off in his direction . . .
Here are all the posts in this series: Episode Thirty-One – August 2010