slumped down resignedly on the step. “You’re a doctor. How long does it take for someone to starve to death?”
He looked surprised. “You’re hungry?”
She leaned her head back against the wall. “I had a Pop-Tart for breakfast. About a million years ago.”
“You’re kidding,” he said, rummaging in the pockets of his lab coat. “Would you like an energy bar?”
“You have food?” she said wonderingly.
“The cafeteria’s always closed when I try to eat there. Is it ever open?”
“No,” Joanna said.
“There don’t seem to be any restaurants around here either.”
“There aren’t,” Joanna said. “Taco Pierre’s is the closest, and it’s ten blocks away.”
“Taco Pierre’s?”
She nodded. “Fast-food burritos and
E. coli.”
“Umm,” he said. He pulled out an apple, polished it against his lapel, and held it out to her. “Apple?”
She took it gratefully. “First you save me from Mr. Mandrake and then from starvation,” she said, taking a bite out of the apple. “Whatever it is you want me to do, I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he said, reaching in his other pocket. “I want you to define the near-death experience for me.”
“Define?” she said around a mouthful of apple.
“The sensations. What people experience when they have an NDE.” He pulled out a foil-wrapped Nutri-Grain bar and handed it to her. “Do they all experience the same thing, or is it different for each individual?”
“No,” she said, trying to tear the energy-bar wrapper open. “There definitely seems to be a core experience, as Mr. Mandrake calls it.” She bit the paper, still trying to tear it. “Defining it’s another matter.”
Richard took the energy bar away from her, tore it open, and handed it back to her.
“Thanks,” she said. “The problem is Mr. Mandrake’s book and all the near-death-experience stuff out there. They’ve told people what they should see, and sure enough, they all see it.”
He frowned. “Then you don’t think people actually see a tunnel and a light and a divine figure?”
She took a bite of energy bar. “I didn’t say that. NDEsdidn’t start with Mr. Mandrake or this current crop of books. There are accounts dating all the way back to ancient Greece. In Plato’s
Republic
, there’s an account of a soldier named Er who died and traveled through passageways leading to the realms of the afterlife, where he saw spirits and something approaching heaven. The eighth-century
Tibetan Book of the Dead
talks about leaving the body, being suspended in a foggy void, and entering a realm of light. And most of the core elements seem to go way back.”
She took another bite. “It’s not that people don’t see the tunnel and all the rest. It’s just that it’s so hard separating the wheat from the chaff. And there’s tons of chaff. People tend to use NDEs to get attention. Or to stump for their belief in the paranormal. Twenty-two percent of people who claim they’ve had NDEs also claim to be clairvoyant or telekinetic, or to have had past-life regressions like Bridey Murphy. Fourteen percent claim they’ve been abducted by aliens.”
“So how
do
you separate the wheat from the chaff, as you call it?”
She shrugged. “You look for body language. I had a patient last month who said, ‘When I looked at the light, I understood the secret of the universe,’ which, by the way, is a common comment, and when I asked her what it was, she said, ‘I promised Jesus I wouldn’t tell,’ but as she said it, she put her hand out, as if reaching for something just out of her grasp,” Joanna said, demonstrating. “And you look for experiences outside the standard imagery, for consistency. People tend to include many more specific details, some of them seemingly irrelevant, when they’re describing what they’ve actually experienced than when they’re describing what they think they should have seen.”
“And what have they actually experienced?” Richard
He looked surprised. “You’re hungry?”
She leaned her head back against the wall. “I had a Pop-Tart for breakfast. About a million years ago.”
“You’re kidding,” he said, rummaging in the pockets of his lab coat. “Would you like an energy bar?”
“You have food?” she said wonderingly.
“The cafeteria’s always closed when I try to eat there. Is it ever open?”
“No,” Joanna said.
“There don’t seem to be any restaurants around here either.”
“There aren’t,” Joanna said. “Taco Pierre’s is the closest, and it’s ten blocks away.”
“Taco Pierre’s?”
She nodded. “Fast-food burritos and
E. coli.”
“Umm,” he said. He pulled out an apple, polished it against his lapel, and held it out to her. “Apple?”
She took it gratefully. “First you save me from Mr. Mandrake and then from starvation,” she said, taking a bite out of the apple. “Whatever it is you want me to do, I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he said, reaching in his other pocket. “I want you to define the near-death experience for me.”
“Define?” she said around a mouthful of apple.
“The sensations. What people experience when they have an NDE.” He pulled out a foil-wrapped Nutri-Grain bar and handed it to her. “Do they all experience the same thing, or is it different for each individual?”
“No,” she said, trying to tear the energy-bar wrapper open. “There definitely seems to be a core experience, as Mr. Mandrake calls it.” She bit the paper, still trying to tear it. “Defining it’s another matter.”
Richard took the energy bar away from her, tore it open, and handed it back to her.
“Thanks,” she said. “The problem is Mr. Mandrake’s book and all the near-death-experience stuff out there. They’ve told people what they should see, and sure enough, they all see it.”
He frowned. “Then you don’t think people actually see a tunnel and a light and a divine figure?”
She took a bite of energy bar. “I didn’t say that. NDEsdidn’t start with Mr. Mandrake or this current crop of books. There are accounts dating all the way back to ancient Greece. In Plato’s
Republic
, there’s an account of a soldier named Er who died and traveled through passageways leading to the realms of the afterlife, where he saw spirits and something approaching heaven. The eighth-century
Tibetan Book of the Dead
talks about leaving the body, being suspended in a foggy void, and entering a realm of light. And most of the core elements seem to go way back.”
She took another bite. “It’s not that people don’t see the tunnel and all the rest. It’s just that it’s so hard separating the wheat from the chaff. And there’s tons of chaff. People tend to use NDEs to get attention. Or to stump for their belief in the paranormal. Twenty-two percent of people who claim they’ve had NDEs also claim to be clairvoyant or telekinetic, or to have had past-life regressions like Bridey Murphy. Fourteen percent claim they’ve been abducted by aliens.”
“So how
do
you separate the wheat from the chaff, as you call it?”
She shrugged. “You look for body language. I had a patient last month who said, ‘When I looked at the light, I understood the secret of the universe,’ which, by the way, is a common comment, and when I asked her what it was, she said, ‘I promised Jesus I wouldn’t tell,’ but as she said it, she put her hand out, as if reaching for something just out of her grasp,” Joanna said, demonstrating. “And you look for experiences outside the standard imagery, for consistency. People tend to include many more specific details, some of them seemingly irrelevant, when they’re describing what they’ve actually experienced than when they’re describing what they think they should have seen.”
“And what have they actually experienced?” Richard
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