I Can See

Can you see it? Two fingers or three? Can you read the line below? Asked Dr Sheba.

No, nothing.

It just landed on the third branch up, can you see it?

Can you see? Don’t you understand? Isn’t it clear, plain and simple.

No, replied the Crash Test Body.

No frills or furbelows, no dark glass, nor glass at all, no screens or filters, no smoke, no mirrors. Clear as day.

No.

No? There, it stands in full daylight, no shade or shadows, no dazzle off the water, no reflection in the windscreen. Still nothing. No. It’s here, or there, not out through the window or across a crowded room. Reach out, but don’t stare. Please don’t stare. Why? These glasses are wrong, I haven’t had an eye test in ages, can you read the registration. Is it left or is it right? How can it be my fault if I didn’t see it there, next time paint it orange with a flashing light on top.

Are we looking at the same thing? That, there, nose on your face, plain as a peacock, bright as a button. That.

Do you mean the tall one by the car?

What are you talking about, please tell me you’re joking. It’s the same as before, you showed me, for goodness sake, you can’t have forgotten, surely.

Let me spell it out then. Ok, you see the red car with the sunroof. So, along to the right and just above that brick wall thing, by the balustrade. Do you see it now?

Oh that, that’s always been there, I thought you meant the new one.

There’s a new one? Why wasn’t I told earlier, I would have brought my binoculars. I’ve never seen one like that before, I could add it to my list, the colours are exquisite.

You have a list?

Well, yes, I can’t remember everything I’ve seen, it helps me to keep a record, balance the books and get a grip on the reins. I look back through my lists on rainy afternoons.

I think I need a list too.

Ah, so now you understand, we are as one at last. You can see the truth.

One what?

Our minds are as one, we have an accord, an understanding. We’re on the same page, singing from the same hymn sheet, working in harmony, pulling in the same direction, chewing on the same tree stump, wallowing in the same mud pool, sling shotting the same planet, lassoing the same buffalo, planting the same daisies. As one.

I’m not sure I know what you mean. I still can’t see a thing, and no, I don’t understand.

Close your eyes.

I don’t have any,

Aha, I think I’ve discovered the problem. So, steady, let me just, hold still, stay still, Ill just fix those there, there that should do it. Anything new happening, tell me about it, don’t be shy.

I see a ship at sea, the waves are washing the decks, but the crew are safe below cradling hot drinks in the galley. I see a farmer guiding the sheep through a gate from one field to another and the sheep dogs can only just contain their excitement. I see two children sharing a conversation and laughing. I see a city street, with rain falling lightly at going home time on Friday night, the sky is getting dark. I see a woman putting the shopping away in the fridge and then sitting. I see a high wall made of stone with arched windows. I see the beginning and the end of it, I see the drama and the unfolding events made clear. I see the wherefore, but the why is unclear.

You can’t see a why. There is a difference between seeing and understanding, which no glasses, binoculars or telescopes can bridge.

Theres a bridge to the why? Seeing is believing surely? In the clear light of day, that sort of thing.

You’re asking the wrong person, said Dr Sheba, I deal in care and attention, if you are needing the whys of it answered, you could ask my partner She Sphinx, but I would warn that her answers can be capricious.

Who me, said the Sphinx, turning towards.