I am an optics engineer, spectrometers talk to me, people leave me alone, especially women. I like it that way. I understand scientific instruments. I don't understand people. No logic. My late wife was the only non scientist I could stand and she is three years dead. I have still not really recovered and I hide behind my obsession with light and telescopes, avoiding humans as best I can.
My brother Jim is younger than me but seems to think that I need looking after or maybe he is just one of those sheepdog type people. Everyone must conform, every one must be happy, so it was not really out of character when I got an invitation to a party which is his words was a "small shindig to celebrate your birthday and such things".
He follows up the invitation not just once, but a number of times and then to complete the pressure, my young niece Alice is on the phone "You are coming to your party aren't you Uncle Dirk?"
He knows damn well I cannot disappoint young Alice. Manipulation of epic proportions.
So, I arrive at the appointed time, chat happily with Alice. Soon, dinner has been eaten, along with lots of wine and Alice has been sent off to bed so I must now socialise. The problem that I have found with being an obsessive scientist is that people try not to engage after the first meeting. In fact they tend to flee rapidly. It makes socialising very uncomfortable and I end up standing alone in a corner, eyeing the door and wondering if I can politely go home yet.
Tonight is no different and I am edging toward the door when a woman ambles up to me. She dressed in a sort of grey/silver/black stretchy material tube that just fits her torso and leaves little to the imagination, high heels and seamed black stockings completed her get up. I supposed it was all designed to show off her almost albino like lack of melanin.
"Hi," she says taking my hand and fluttering her eyes at me "I am Judy."
She smiles sweetly, keeps my hand languidly in hers and starts to ask me about astronomy, one of my obsessions. I decide to see how long she can survive my obsessions, in my search for topics of converstation I mention that I had recently photographed the Great Orion nebula and that Orion itself was probably the easiest constellation to see. I start describing the equipment i used and camera settings. Instead of fleeing, she strokes my arm while listening attentively to me.
"Is it still visible?" she asks in soft hoarse whisper when I pause to take breath.
"What? Orion?"
"Yes."
"Yes. With a decent telescope." A good excuse for no action. It normally works, but this time it doesn't
"Show me." she says.
"I can't, not without a decent telescope."
"You said that already. Now show me where the nebula is, even if I cannot see it, I can imagine it."
"It will be difficult to see; Orion as it is already setting."
"Show me." Repetitive, demanding. I am running out of excuses.
I sigh and she smiles gently in triumph. I gesture to the open french doors leading out onto the balcony.
She walks ahead of me, swaying gently and my sleeping sex drive encouraged by a couple of glasses of wine sits up and starts to take notice.
She stops at the railing of the balcony and I stop next to her. The city stretches out in front of us like a carpet of fire, too many lights, too much sodium yellow and the aerosols (sea spray for the uninitiated) in the sky make it throb with light pollution.
I look around, orientate myself in the sky and, as I expected Orion is setting into sea. The recognisable belt practically resting on the the horizon. Betelgeuse glows red and malevolent to the right of the belt. The constellation is unmistakable.
"There." I point toward the belt.
"Where?"
"The three stars? On the horizon?"
"What three stars? I can't see them. Stand behind me point over my shoulder."
I step behind her, rest my arm on her shoulder and point. "There."
