Professor Sidgwick stood in the middle of a warm round of applause, in front of the crowd of scholars, colleagues, reporters and students of the university. The man, who had spent half of his life working parallel at the Psychology Department at Oxford University and with his own investigation in the field of parapsychology, was stepping up to the stage with the help of a wooden stick, thanking the applause and interest of people in his work. He looked at the crowd and recognized his students and some of the other professors at the university, but the rest where all journalists interest on the new publication of the old physiologist. Sidgwick knew that this new book would carry out consequences in his own person and work, especially by the gentlemen in the front row, who continually doubting and judging his research, but at the end of the day, that was the critics' work.
-Thank you, thank you- said Sidgwick smiling politely, leaving his stick behind the podium and then he putting his hand into the pocket of his jacket, taking out his thick black glasses and a folded piece of paper, where he had written the night before his notes for that presentation. One of the photographers took a picture in that specific moment while the public was still looking at Sidgwick; waiting for the speech- I'm glad to see you all here. First of all, I would like to thank dean Collinwood, who make this possible, giving me the support for the my recent book publication...
A bald man was sitting in the first line and moved his head when the professor Sidgwick mentioned his name. After thanking the rest of the public and editors, he started to talk about the reason and aims why he wrote the book. As expected, many of the people frowned at the same time when he explained the parapsychology branch, about the aspects of apparitional experiences, precognition, near death experiences and reincarnation instead of talking about his new book, where he tried to explained the possible stages of sleep.
-This is our first effort as association trying to organize the material and research of the many scholars and scientists who had develop an enormous investigation on the paranormal phenomena field- the incredulous faces watching him as he were uttering pure nonsense, including the dean Collinwood, who really thought this presentation was about sleep instead of paranormal events- In this book you will find the many testimonies of people who experienced this phenomena and who were studied by myself and some of my closest colleagues in the Society of psychical research. All written here is nothing but the truth.
Some of the reporters were encoureged, raising his hands to ask about the book. Collinwood, in the other hand, was furious. Sidgwick saw the interest of the people on such mysterious matters of study at young age, when we were studying at a catholic school and where he couldn't find more answer but the Holy Bible. Since that age, he realized that beyond the science and the religious explanation that life could have, there was something more that he wanted to figure out. His firsts studies on the paranormal phenomena field were developed in the early years of education in the privileged university, where he taught in those days. But not many of his colleagues saw a prosperous future in that pseudo science and often called him a lunatic. Crazy or not, Sidgwick was really sure that the debate between what science could really prove and what it couldn't, would never stopped.
Professor Sidgwick, do you believe that there is life after death? - One of the reporters asked.
- Well, I think that there is something more than nothing- said the professor smiling. The face of the reporter was full of questions as the rest of the faces in the crowd.
- So, you don't believe in God- declare another man in the crowd. Murmurs arose when Sidgwick remember his first meet with a woman, who claimed to have lived during the Georgian era.
Some years ago I visited an old friend in Glasgow, while I was taking vacations with my wife- he remembered the time when he and his wife reached a small town named Luss. They were visiting some relatives when the rumors of a woman, who continuously had episodes of hallucination and images of people who she seemed to never known, arose the interest of the young psychologist- Her name was Marie Ferguson and she was the daughter of a farmer who used to work for my wife's family. I barely knew things that my wife told me about Marie, but I didn't knew what to expect- he remembered the first day she told him what she saw in her dreams- Since she was a child, Marie used to tell to his parents that they weren't her real parents, that she had another life far away from that little town in Glasgow.
- But there could be many explanations for that- said a man sited next to the dean Collinwood.
- In the many sessions we had together, she strongly believed that she actually had another life, very different from the life in Glasgow. With every detail she gave a name, an age, a direction and a story about what was her destiny in that life- the faces were still remained inscrutable to the words of the professor- Her name had been Elizabeth Henley, she had all his life in Derby. She got married with a man named John and had two children.
Among the public, there was a young student who took classes with Collinwood but who was more interest in the new field that Sidgwick was developing. His name was Jonathan Lloyd, a student who spent part of that semester studying the new theories that Sidgwick and his workmates had proposed during those ages. Even though he wasn't going to dedicate his all life and career to understand the sense of that area, he was truly and deeply interest on that topic.
-I went to Derby and found the little town where she claimed to have lived- continued to say the professor while Jonathan was listening- but I didn't find the house. Instead of it, there was a public school founded in 1820, several years after Elizabeth lived there. I talked with the director and he told me that the school was a house of a man named Henley but after his death, the house remained empty, becoming part of the Catholic Church, which years later, established a school there- he smiled- So I had the name Henley which was the same last name that Marie gave me in Glasgow but who was Elizabeth Henley? Did she really live there? Was that house hers? Or was all invented by this woman?- All the people was silent, listening to the story of that old man- There weren't many people with the Henley name; just a few who lived in the city but none of them knew something about John or Elizabeth Henley.
-She was lying- one of the colleagues of Sidgwick looked upset, sitting idly by- She was inventing everything. Maybe she heard the name in other place or she knew a woman named Elizabeth Henley, but nothing it's true.
-That's what I thought- said sincerely the man- But I knew that Elizabeth Henley wasn't alive so there was another place where I could find my answers.
-The graveyard- Jonathan's voice seemed to fill the air. The professor smiled, nodding as the crowd turned his head to watch the young student- Did you found her there?
-God Christ- whisper the dean Collinwood looking at his student- You can´t believe this is true! These are all tales… a life after this? We are serious persons… how can you believe in something like that?
-But there is a possibility, dean Collinwood- said Jonathan while the reporters started to take him photographs and taking notes about the discussion- Was she there?
-She was lying- one of the colleagues of Sidgwick looked upset, sitting idly by- She was inventing everything. Maybe she heard the name in other place or she knew a woman named Elizabeth Henley, but nothing it's true.
-That's what I thought- said sincerely the man- But I knew that Elizabeth Henley wasn't alive so there was another place where I could find my answers.
-The graveyard- Jonathan's voice seemed to fill the air. The professor smiled, nodding as the crowd turned his head to watch the young student- Did you found her there?
-God Christ- whisper the dean Collinwood looking at his student- You can´t believe this is true! These are all tales… a life after this? We are serious persons… how can you believe in something like that?
-But there is a possibility, dean Collinwood- said Jonathan while the reporters started to take him photographs and taking notes about the discussion- Was she there?
Sidgwick was silent looking at the two men who started to discuss about the veracity of that science. During all his life, he found people like Collinwood, people who couldn't believe in something so extraordinary like that. But what cached the attention of the old professor was the interest of that young man. That was the only reason why he stayed in front of that people who started to call him layer and crazy.
- There is a cemetery near to Derby, close to the road. I was a bit sad because I couldn't find more about the Henley family in my short journey and I became skeptic about the story that Marie told me in Luss- he reminded catching the first glimpses of the old cemetery at one side of the road where his carriage was going.
He asked the coachman to stop and for help with finding a deceased aunt, who had died some years ago. They were alone in that cemetery. It was a cloudy morning of April and you could tell that no one had visited that place in at least a decade. He read the name of every single man, woman and child engraved in the headstones and it wasn't until an hour later, when the driver shouted excitedly Sidgwick' s name.
-I've found her! I've found her- repeated the coachman, waving his arms. Sidgwick, which in those days could still run like a young man, went immediately where the man was, looking at an old and eroded tomb. The dead branches and grass that hadn't been cut in years could hardly show the names and Sidgwick had to clean the plate with his handkerchief to see it properly. But there was no doubt- You see? This is your aunt… but she was very old… maybe it was your grandmother's sister or something…
-I can't believe it- said Sidgwick smiling. The name of the family was Henley and there were to people buried there. The first one was a named Robert Henley, born in 1725. And the second was a woman, named Anna Parker Henley, his wife born in 1732 and dead in 1778. According to Marie's story, his life wasn't long- She was 46 years old when she died. That's more than one hundred years ago! This is amazing- he said to the coachman.
-But the names were wrong- said another professor of the university while Sidwick was remembering his journey to Derby- It was another person! It doesn't mean it was the same…
-That's a load of rubbish!- scream another member of the crowd. People started to leave their seats while the press still taking photographs of the professor and tried to had an interview, making question to the dean Collinwood, who looked very upset.
-I can't believe you have done this to me, Thomas- said Collinwood to his old fellow. But Sidgwick seemed serene and tranquil, looking how the people were reacting with his story. He knew what was going to happened but he didn't even felt bad- You won't teach again in these classrooms, did you hear me?
-We both know my friend- said Sidgwick with his normal tone of voice- That people reacts in different ways against the unknown. And I am not interest in teaching people who don't really care about the possibilities or maybe, about the truth.
-You're mad- that's the last thing Collinwood said after leaving the auditorium of the university, followed by the press and his other colleagues, clearly ashamed of Thomas speech.
There were only empty chairs and many leaflets scattered around the floor with the name of the new book and a brief description of the topic of the presentation. Jonathan helped the old psychologist to get off the stage and Sidgwick stood straight with his cane, stretching a hand to the young student.
- Thomas Sidgwick said the old man holding the hand of the young man. Jonathan seemed nervous.
- I'm Jonathan Lloyd- he said- I study here at Oxford and take classes with professor Collinwood. I just wanted to say that this book- he reached something in his jacket and pulled out a copy of the new book that Sidgwick had written and for which the presentation had been made- It's a good book but… are you sure that all is fiction? That our minds are available to create something with any kind of help when we are sleeping, including episodes like a life or people we have never met?
- What do you think? - Sidwick looked at him smiling. Jonathan looked at the book and it couldn't find any kind of explanation.
- Maybe I am crazy but I think this is happening to me too- said finally Jonathan. Sidwick patted his shoulder-I've been trying to find logical answer why I see things I can't explain. People are always talking about death, about what happens after it and nobody knows it. They believe and trust that God has and knows our destiny, according what the Bible says, we can go to hell or heaven, right?
- According to Christians, yes-said the professor looking at the student.
- But what if…- the professor knew what Jonathan wanted to said, but also knew that saying something like that it was like feeling crazy- what if there more than this… more than this life and when we die, we go to somewhere else- Jonathan laughed, feeling myself stupid- You may think I'm stupid…
- According to Christians, yes-said the professor looking at the student.
- But what if…- the professor knew what Jonathan wanted to said, but also knew that saying something like that it was like feeling crazy- what if there more than this… more than this life and when we die, we go to somewhere else- Jonathan laughed, feeling myself stupid- You may think I'm stupid…
- Not at all- said the professor putting looking at the door where a coachman was waiting for him- Have you hear about the Parapsychology? - Jonathan gave a nod- So you are familiar with the study of paranormal phenomena that can't be explained by science.
- But that's not very reliable- said Jonathan- Something we don't see, something we don't really know… how can we explained that?
- How can you explain love? Or existence of a superior being? Or if we humans have souls? - Jonathan couldn't say anything else. The coachman help the old professor to get on the carriage- There are many things young man that we can't explain but they are there, outside and we can see them or feel them, or maybe even dream about them- the coachman was ready to go, holding the reins of the horses.
- What happened to Marie Ferguson? - asked Jonathan looking at carriage- Did you tell her the truth?
- She didn't need it- said the professor- She believed that, she felt that as her own life and no matter what I tell, nothing was going to change her mind- he bowed with the hat- If you ask me, I think there were too many matches… but like Collinwood once said to me, it's too good to be true- he smiled again- Good afternoon, Mr. Lloyd.
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