way lately. Was it beyond him because he didn’t know what to say or felt he couldn’t say anything? I got the feeling there were a lot of secrets. Many of which I was probably not privy to and maybe didn’t want to know.
“What’s beyond you?” It was a simple question, should have been easy to answer.
“There’s nothing in our history that comes close to this. No one that I know of has ever NOT completed a purpose. I don’t know what it means. I didn’t even know that it was possible. Then again, you’re the first woman that I know of.”
“Okay then, can we call this Max?” I felt anxious to find out answers but nervous at the same time.
He smiled, “You’re starting to accept who you are?”
I scoffed at that, “Well, I don’t know about that. I’d just like answers.”
Smiling wider, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After dialing a number he said, “Your aura shows that you’re starting to accept. The aura doesn’t lie.”
My breath caught at his comment. He began to talk into his phone.
“Hello Max, this is Aaron… . good, good… and how are you? . . . Great…”
Pleasantries, I thought to myself.
He continued, “Well, I’m here with Megan… yes, that’s right… well, she actually has some questions for you. Can you meet? . . . Tomorrow?”
I nodded yes.
“Okay, sure. What time? . . . Ten in the morning?”
Again I nodded yes, but added, “Where?”
“UCSF,” he whispered.
“Okay,” I responded. They exchanged a few more words and then hung up.
I spoke first, “So this… Max… he’s going to have answers for me?”
“I don’t know. I told him about you last time we saw each other and he just nodded as if he understood. Then he told me to call him if you contacted me again. Why don’t we meet here at nine-thirty and go over together?”
“Why UCSF?” I asked. “Does he work there?”
“Yes, he’s a professor.”
“And he’s…” I trailed off, trying to lead him to answer.
“Yes, he’s one of us… an Aurator.”
I took a deep breath, becoming more resolved. “Okay, I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”
We said our good-byes and I left. I had enough time to go home and take a nap before picking up my kids. As I drove home, I kept thinking back to when I started seeing auras, first the priest, then high school. Now what am I up against?
8. Max
The next day after dropping the girls off I went to meet Aaron. Normally I was not thankful for the year-round schools my daughters went to, but lately I seemed to need the extra time for myself. Aaron and I drove over to the University of California, San Francisco campus. I had never asked what Max taught but didn’t bother now because I knew I was about to find out. We parked a few blocks away, lucky to find a spot there, and walked up to the Parnassus Building at the School of Medicine.
We walked down the long hallway and I had flashbacks to nursing school. I shuddered, grateful that I completed it but sure that my time there had created some post-traumatic stress disorder. We reached a door that read,
Max Reibolt, MD
Medical History, Medical Anthropology
I wondered, what kind of medicine is that? Aaron knocked on the door and I heard a muffled, “Come in.”
As we walked through the door I was amazed at how large the office was. My nursing instructors had small closet-like offices or they all shared one big room sectioned off into cubicles. This room was very large with high ceilings. Every square inch of wall space was covered with shelving littered with books, papers, and what looked like various artifacts from all over the world. There was a massive wooden desk under the far window, covered with stacks of papers that, while a little disheveled, looked somewhat organized. The floor had an expensive imported rug with a beautiful red woven design that peeked out from among stacks of books and papers. Along the fringe of the carpet lay what looked
“What’s beyond you?” It was a simple question, should have been easy to answer.
“There’s nothing in our history that comes close to this. No one that I know of has ever NOT completed a purpose. I don’t know what it means. I didn’t even know that it was possible. Then again, you’re the first woman that I know of.”
“Okay then, can we call this Max?” I felt anxious to find out answers but nervous at the same time.
He smiled, “You’re starting to accept who you are?”
I scoffed at that, “Well, I don’t know about that. I’d just like answers.”
Smiling wider, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After dialing a number he said, “Your aura shows that you’re starting to accept. The aura doesn’t lie.”
My breath caught at his comment. He began to talk into his phone.
“Hello Max, this is Aaron… . good, good… and how are you? . . . Great…”
Pleasantries, I thought to myself.
He continued, “Well, I’m here with Megan… yes, that’s right… well, she actually has some questions for you. Can you meet? . . . Tomorrow?”
I nodded yes.
“Okay, sure. What time? . . . Ten in the morning?”
Again I nodded yes, but added, “Where?”
“UCSF,” he whispered.
“Okay,” I responded. They exchanged a few more words and then hung up.
I spoke first, “So this… Max… he’s going to have answers for me?”
“I don’t know. I told him about you last time we saw each other and he just nodded as if he understood. Then he told me to call him if you contacted me again. Why don’t we meet here at nine-thirty and go over together?”
“Why UCSF?” I asked. “Does he work there?”
“Yes, he’s a professor.”
“And he’s…” I trailed off, trying to lead him to answer.
“Yes, he’s one of us… an Aurator.”
I took a deep breath, becoming more resolved. “Okay, I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”
We said our good-byes and I left. I had enough time to go home and take a nap before picking up my kids. As I drove home, I kept thinking back to when I started seeing auras, first the priest, then high school. Now what am I up against?
8. Max
The next day after dropping the girls off I went to meet Aaron. Normally I was not thankful for the year-round schools my daughters went to, but lately I seemed to need the extra time for myself. Aaron and I drove over to the University of California, San Francisco campus. I had never asked what Max taught but didn’t bother now because I knew I was about to find out. We parked a few blocks away, lucky to find a spot there, and walked up to the Parnassus Building at the School of Medicine.
We walked down the long hallway and I had flashbacks to nursing school. I shuddered, grateful that I completed it but sure that my time there had created some post-traumatic stress disorder. We reached a door that read,
Max Reibolt, MD
Medical History, Medical Anthropology
I wondered, what kind of medicine is that? Aaron knocked on the door and I heard a muffled, “Come in.”
As we walked through the door I was amazed at how large the office was. My nursing instructors had small closet-like offices or they all shared one big room sectioned off into cubicles. This room was very large with high ceilings. Every square inch of wall space was covered with shelving littered with books, papers, and what looked like various artifacts from all over the world. There was a massive wooden desk under the far window, covered with stacks of papers that, while a little disheveled, looked somewhat organized. The floor had an expensive imported rug with a beautiful red woven design that peeked out from among stacks of books and papers. Along the fringe of the carpet lay what looked
Similar Books
