It was a normal Thursday morning before school. I slid into my usual routine of letting my body move on its own while my mind blipped into a trance-like state of asking myself questions, some small, some big, some too big to answer. I walked down the street and onto the campus lawn. As I sat down on the big stone steps in front of the school, a few lingering questions were on my mind. Why do people act the way they do? Why are they so oblivious to the world around them, more interested in small talk than finding the Truth? Why do they loose that strong sense of wonder that delighted us as children?
BRRINGG! The school bell startled me from my zoning-out. Numbly I looked out at the dull-eyed clicks of people below, chatting in endless small-talk. I was startled to notice two girls in a particularly intense conversation. One listened wide-eyed as if she had been shown a new point of view by her companion, a long-haired girl with green eyes. There was something special about this girl that made her friend listen that way.
Still dazed from the rude awakening, I made my way through the clotted hallway and to my desk, my body subconsciously moving like my mind's puppet. Taking notes was easy but I wasn't comprehending what I was writing. I knew that I should be focusing on my schoolwork. But the questions still nagged at me. What was the green-eyed girl talking about that was so intriguing? In order to be able to focus on my schoolwork, I needed to get this answered. That much was clear.
BRRINGG! Class was over and it was time for our closed-campus lunch. As I strode out the doors and down the steps, out of nowhere a car pulled up to the curb where the green-eyed girl was waiting. She got in and it sped away. This was unheard of at our school. No one would dare break the rules so blatantly. Why wasn't anyone blowing the whistle? Amazing - even the teachers on duty were completely taken up in their own small-talk, eyes languid and lack-luster. Why hadn't anyone else noticed the car? Was I the only one that could see it? Would it come back? Would I see it tomorrow, too?
I was finishing my lunch on the steps when I saw the car return. The green-eyed girl got out and ran up the steps, just as the bell rang to start classes. She glanced back at me as she stepped inside.
The next day at lunch I waited at the curb to see if the the car would come. Sure enough, the girl came too, and we smiled at each other, eyes glistening. Two minutes later, the car pulled up. She got in and sped away as before. Where was it that she went every day? I had to find out.
On the third day I waited on the curb as before. She came out and stood with me. I blurted out, “Where do you go everyday?” But in answer, she only put her finger to her lips as if to say, “not a word” and opened the car door for me to join her.
We started down the tree-lined street. After about a block I noticed that the trees outside looked blurry. Then our surroundings fell completely away and we were floating in some sort of tunnel. I recalled I had read something once about worm holes in space. They warp you through time and place. The tunnel was looking purple now, or maybe a mix of purple and green. I couldn't be sure that I was seeing strait. The car was beginning to change shape, and the engine sound was different. I could hear wooden wheels on cobblestone and the galloping of hooves.
I blinked to clear my vision and looked again to see the Athenian temple in Greece... I recognized it from my history text. Only it wasn't in ruins. The chariot deposited us in a busy, noisy market place down the hill from the temple, and disappeared. But just as the people at school had been oblivious to the car, no one seemed to notice the odd behavior of the chariot.
To thank the green-eyed girl for including me on this adventure, I bought us some bread and olive oil, and a jug of fresh spring water. We enjoyed this lunch, walking together through the buyers and sellers.
Then I heard it. A man's voice, excited and strong, carried over the market crowd. “He is wise who knows he knows not!”
The green-eyed girl ran into the crowd toward him. I barely managed to catchup to her just as the man smiled and took her by the hand, leading her to the great white steps of a stone building where she disappeared inside. I felt exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. I leaned on a column to catch my breath, wondering what could possibly happen next.
The man took his place among a group of men seated on the steps. “He is wise who knows he knows not!” repeated the man.
“What do you mean, Socrates,” asked another.
“It means you are fat-headed,” answered another, poking him in the ribs. The others laughed.
“He's got a point there,” another stated.
“Yeah. You can't find a laurel wreath to fit his head!”
“No, I don't mean about the size of Plato's head. I mean Socrates has a point that a measure of how much a man knows is how much he understands how little he actually does know.”
“I still don't get it, you pompous, bombastic con-artist,” said Plato, the man with the presumably fat head.
The green-eyed girl laughed, and for the first time, I noticed she had come back out of the building with a broom to sweep the steps near the men. She had brought a broom for me, too.
“Listen, Plato,” said one of the younger men, “if you think you've got it all figured out, that's a sure sign that you haven't got a clue, and that you're oblivious to the world around you.”
Another chimed in, “When people get habituated to the world as it is, they quit noticing things around them; quit paying attention.”
“It's called 'growing up'” said another.
“I'm not oblivious!” continued Plato, “Just because you're younger than I am doesn't mean you are more sensitive to the world than I am. And I don't 'have it all figured out', either. That's why I ask questions, some of which are too big to answer. Does asking those questions give me a fat head?”
At this point, the green-eyed girl interjected, “Excuse me sir, we've finished sweeping. We're going to go play with our special friends now.”
“Alright my daughter, but be careful to not get jaded by contact with your 'special friends' and join us on the steps again soon.”
The green-eyed girl left so fast I almost lost track of her, but met her at the chariot awaiting behind the bushes near the temple.
Back through the worm hole, the car pulled up to the curb just in time for the next class. As the green-eyed girl got out of the car, she winked at me. “Tomorrow?” she asked.