Julian & Mara Come For Dinner

Julian, Mara, and two of their followers have come for dinner, to my house. Murphy is entertaining them by throwing coasters. The coasters are black-grey rubber, pretty ugly but functional, and patterned with elongated diamond shapes. I don’t fully remember how or when they showed up at our house. Probably Sarah bought them. Probably they were recommended on the Wirecutter, her favorite product review site. When you throw them, they fly in a satisfying arc, land with a plop, and stay right where they landed. Our little group of housemates, for probably this reason, has taken to playing throwing games with them. You get points for landing them in your opponents goal zone on the dinner table, and extra points if you can land them on top of each other. Murphy, who is normally king at this game, is getting a run for his money from Julian. The followers are watching Julian’s success with admiring looks. Follower number one is female and pretty. She looks like a cheerleader from a nineties show. The kind of person who would get on Buffy’s bad side early on by being superficial and annoying, but who would then end up being saved from vampires a few episodes later. She is probably of age, given that she is, you know, here in my dining room, but she looks a fresh-faced seventeen. Follower number two is male, lanky, and in his early twenties. Mara and Julian are often surrounded by followers, of one type or another. Some of them come and go, others seem to stick around. I’ve seen follower one and two before, so they’re probably of the more permanent kind. 

I’m running in and out of the kitchen, stirring a huge pot of spaghetti sauce, one of the few things I know how to cook that can feed a crowd. The whole thing was sort of last minute, and I wasn’t really feeling making something extravagant. Not that I have to. It’s casual. Maybe I’ll throw in a side salad. Nate is poking his head into the kitchen. He’s checking in on me. He helped me cook. Nate always helps me cook. Because he’s, you know, Nate. Nate the great. He and Sarah had a fight earlier today. I could hear their raised voices through two doors. Not that I’m keeping track of them. It’s none of my business. But I think it’s their third fight this month. 

Back in the dining room, Sarah and follower one are competing with each other for coaster dominance. Neither of them has great aim, but follower one has Julian and Murphy cooing over her like a baby bird, helping her throw coasters. Sarah is still winning by a large margin. Soon it will be time to serve dinner. I briefly think about setting the table, but then I decide to not interrupt the fun. I’m glad this dinner is happening, and isn’t too awkward. Sarah, Nate and Murphy are sort of my family away from home. I’ve told them lots about Julian and Mara and now they finally get to meet them in person. I’d love for them all to get along. But it’s a bit like two worlds colliding. Mara and Julian’s world is infused with a new kind of meaning. Like I’ve stumbled into the plot of the story and reality has more depth. It’s a bit scary to see them through the eyes of my roommates now. Like I’m taking a gamble with something precious and slightly fragile. What if my friends think Julian is a crackpot? What if Mara seems dramatic, over the top? What if it’s weird that the followers are here? I head back to the kitchen to check on the spaghetti status. 

Conversation over dinner is flowing easily. Mara and Julian are effortlessly charming. Of course they would be. I take a breath out. I’ve been quiet so far, but that seems to be okay. Murphy and Julian are geeking out about some math thing. Backpropagation algorithms and something called deep learning. Mara keeps asking both of them probing questions. How close do they think we are to creating genuine, conscious intelligence? Follower one pipes in every once in a while with a well-placed “Julian, what do you think?”. Follower two is shoveling down a third plate of Spaghetti Bolognese. I do make a good spaghetti sauce. Nate the great is refilling everyone’s wine glasses. Sarah is asking Mara and Julian how they met which is making follower one and two grin enthusiastically. They know this story is a good one.

Julian, who is telling the story, starts with a sparkle in his eye. He first met her at the subway station, he tells us. She was reading a newspaper. He had just been on a silent retreat for many days. During it, his subtle senses had become sharpened. Walking around in this altered state, perceiving reality with diamond like precision, he immediately noticed the woman with the pearly white aura. The contrast between her and everyone else was just so astonishing, he tells us with a hint of pride. She was like a glowing white orb in front of a wall of grey. I simply walked up to her and told her so, he says. I had to tell her directly, just as I was seeing it. Nothing else would have sufficed. Nothing else would have been right. I remember her nodding slowly, he says and we stood in silence together as the people and trains passed by. Neither of them remembers how long. Mara, who had been on her way to work instead got on a train with Julian. We moved in together a week later, Mara adds. What happened to your job, Sarah asks her. Mara shrugs. It just wasn’t important anymore, she says.

The evening ends, many hours and glasses of wine later. I feel groggy but relaxed. Happy. My soul is filled up. The fullness itself is a sweet, heady substance. In the kitchen stacks of dishes are piled up, waiting for sober morning people to clean them. It makes me happy to see. A messy kitchen, the sign of a good celebration. I feel connected to everyone, surrounded by warmth. New ties have been formed tonight. Sarah and Mara have made plans to go furniture shopping together. Julian and Nate have exchanged emails to discuss a paper on theories of consciousness. All is well in my life.