Introduction

In the intersection of modern science and ancient mysticism, is a story about finding the things that transcend time. Gabriella Vogel's grandfather is about to receive the Nobel Prize in Physics for his shocking proof that will change everything we take for granted. As she stands at the threshold of the beginning of everything in her own life, she knows that her future and that of the world, hangs delicately in the balance. She must decide: What are the things in life worth fighting for? Can we change our fate?

In this journey of a lifetime, Gabriella meets a mysterious, young scientist, then learns that he's been at the center of her grandfather's research for hundreds of years, met her grandmother eighty years earlier, and that he hasn't aged--at all. Inspired by theories in art and science and events in history, Gabriella's unforgettable quest for answers will reveal a secret hidden for generations by her family, and one moment--one choice, that will change everything.

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Excerpt

39

I DROP MY BAGS IN the front hall and look out at the timeless view of the dunes, sea, and sand. It feels so good to be away from the architecture studios, New York, and everything that has happened. This is a rare opportunity to have the house to myself.

“We on the East Coast are the guardians of the rising sun.” My grandfather often reminded me.

We would watch the path it traveled until the end of the day when the shadows it cast illuminated the grasses and pond outside our windows. The back of the house that faced the ocean was carefully composed; a wall of glass designed to frame a perfect view of the sea. I walk down the long gallery toward the staircase and see the many paintings on the walls. Interspersed with well-known contemporary artists of the last hundred years are my own paintings, even ones from when I was very young.

I had pleaded with my grandmother years before. “Please, don’t hang that one. It’s terrible.”

“Art is subjective, dear. You know that, besides I want it here, with me. I can see the way your mind works in the shapes and lines. I can feel your heart.”

The memory stops me, the words she had spoken were the same as Benjamin’s. I think about my painting in his loft and can’t understand any of it: the magnetic draw I cannot deny, the terrifying reaction my grandfather had when I mentioned his name, or the reality of Benjamin’s constant absence. Too many unanswered questions.

And I think of my grandmother. The many times we were on the

roof under the blanket of stars. The things she would say to me.

“Your life is limitless, Gabriella.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You can’t imagine the places, the worlds out there.”

“I want to.”

She would look away and pull me closer.

“Why are you sad?” I had asked her.

“I wish I could be here with you, when it happens.”

“When what happens?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Your first real kiss, when you hold hands, when you feel the pounding inside of your heart or that it simply might stop, when you find what you’re looking for.”

“You will, you will be with me.”

“Look up there, Gabriella.” She pointed into the night sky. “Can you see it?”

“What?”

“Forever.”

“Where?”

“All around you.”

There is so little I feel sure of except for one thing. Benjamin is part of my future. I know it; I have seen it, and I am hanging on to this belief.

Trying to trust my heart.

The sun casts its last light across the grasses that shape the path to the beach. The sea breeze touches my cheek, acknowledging my return. This is the image, the sensation I hold in my mind when I am away for too long. I can conjure up the feeling of the wind on my face and the rhythmic sound of the sea, as if I was standing right there. My hand skips along the

old wooden fence that is so characteristic of the New England beaches, marking the procession up then down to the sea. The dunes create a natural buffer that hides the swimmers from the road and scattered homes.

I zip up my wet suit, knowing that without it the shock of the water’s temperature will be too much to bear. A tradition I try to engage in every time I return home, the swim is like the ancient ritual of immersion that centers around the idea of hope. The belief that in moving waters is the power to purify. My ancestors had performed this physical act, and I knew it was often used to represent a radical change of heart or total commitment to something. Or someone.

A group of geese sound their way in the sky above, heading south for the winter on their cyclical path. The drive from their instinct telling them exactly where to go and what to do. Lucky, to find answers that are buried deep in their DNA. No room for doubt.

I walk toward the horizon and close my eyes. The icy bite stings my ankles. I push off from the sandy bottom, and my legs float up as my body becomes horizontal. I feel the tug of the moon and the power of the tide as my body is lifted out into the sea. The sky is pink and orange, a composition of shapes created as the sun moves into the west and clings to the last moments of the day. My ears submerge below the surface and connect to the sounds of the marine world. Safe and familiar, quiet. I rest in the rocking motion of the water as it carries me away from the shore.

I want to empty my mind, to feel all these sensations, but the powerful force in my head is back. When I can see things, that are about the future. But this time, it’s different and amazingly—it feels wonderful. I welcome the feeling, because it’s about him.

We are together, far away on a beach. Not Gloucester, not even on the Atlantic but somewhere else, warm and secluded. I see the water that is so blue, bluer than any I have ever seen. The soft, warm breeze blows over my body, and I touch the white-powder sand. I scoop it up and let it escape slowly through my fingers, feeling its softness. My head rests on a towel and he leans over me, blocking the light so I can look into his green eyes, impossibly close to my face. I love the way he feels.

“Gabriella.” He says my name, softly, slowly.

“Yes?”

“Is this what you thought it would be like?”

My mouth covers his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. I push them open with mine as I drink him in. I want to answer his questions with my body.

“Yes, no—I hoped it would feel like this—but it’s better. So much better.” I pause to fill the space with words from my heart. “We are the lucky ones.”

“Do you know how much I love you?”

My fingers touch the line of his brow. I lift the bottom of his soft ear and wrap my hands around the back of his neck and pull his face closer to mine.

“How do you know?” My voice is low.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you know when someone loves you, really loves you. For the right reasons. That you’ll be loved no matter what happens?”

“You will.” He leans over and whispers to me, “You already are.”

I feel his breath and lips on my neck as he moves down between my breasts. My body rises to meet his mouth. Soft, warm, slow. There is no need to hurry, no rush.

We have forever.

“I don’t want you to worry about anything, Gabriella. Know that I will always come back for you.”

I don’t want to talk. I want to feel him, all of him, everywhere.

“Yes, I know, I believe it. We’ll be together. Now kiss me.”

His eyes burn into mine. “Remember that. It’s the only way.”

As I reach out I feel him dissolve and slip away, my hands slice instead through icy water. It’s over. The beautiful vision, the dream of him with me. Gone. I’m alone—in the dark. Suddenly, I feel the familiar rocking motion of the water change into a twisting, pulling sensation. I have drifted much farther away from the shore than I had intended, and panic wells up inside of me as I drift farther away from where I want to be. I scan the horizon for lights. The waves grow with intensity as the incredible undertow pulls me out. I try to swim, pushing my body with every ounce of energy I have, using sheer will to force my arms through the icy water. The waves are crushing and pulling me under. Spinning and throwing me about, like one of the

many lobster buoys that dot the coast. I realize that I am going nowhere; the force of nature is too powerful to overcome.

Try to stay calm, I tell myself.

I tread water and catch my breath, get my bearings, but my arms are thrashing for survival. I reach toward the surface but am repeatedly pulled down, and I submerge. I force myself back into the night sky and gasp for air and try to escape the horrifying feeling of being sucked down.

Oh my God, my mind screams in panic. My legs are numb from the cold, and I try again to gather my strength and swim, propelling my body forward. I am unwilling to accept the terrifying inevitability of what is happening. The vacuum pulls me farther into the grip of the sea. Air bubbles, floating, twisting hair, and limbs create a swirling composition of fear and wonder. Salt water rushes into my lungs and its weight carries me down, deeper, into the infinite blue space. Darkness wraps around like a thick fog as I become one with the sea. The crushing pain is gone now be- cause I’ve left my heart behind.

Yet, I can feel him with me, the way our bodies would meet in the dark and in the light, floating in the moving tide of our pleasure, the worlds between us melting. I need to remember—I will always remember—every- thing I love about him. I know that I could paint every one of his words with my brush, draw the shape of his breath with my pen, and sculpt the meaning of his thoughts into stone. But I understand that it cannot be. I’m tired of fighting, searching, and trying to understand. Instead I let go to the powerful force, and know that no matter what happens, this is not the end.

The last conscious thought I have is the faint recognition of a strong hand pulling me up and out of the sea.

Back into the night air and this world. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

What is the meaning of "The power to choose your own fate?" Do you think one can actually choose?

Einstein says, "Everything is connected." What does that mean to you?

What is special about the relationship between Lily and Gabriella? Have you ever felt that same relationship with a friend?

The book tells us that art and science are asking the same question- what, if anything is eternal. Do you agree? Can you think of any examples?

Gabriella and her grandmother have premonitions. They know or feel things before they happen. Do you know anyone with that gift or power?

Gabriella’s grandmother, Sophie, wrote, "Only art education can improve quality of life, understanding and knowledge." What do you think she meant by this? Do you agree?

The book deals with destiny and fate and whether we can change things. Do you believe that, "What did not happen might still remain possible, if we could go back in time and choose differently?"

The book proposes that art is a legacy for the future and a way to live on into time. Can you think of other ways to live on, to leave your mark, your legacy, after your death?

The book is in the first person, the voice of Gabriella. Would it have been as effective in the third person?

The scientific community believes that everything will be ultimately explained through the "Theory of Everything". Do you agree or do you think there are mysteries in the universe that will never be explained?

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