murielle

 therealljidol Week 10 Prompt: Synesthesia

(AN:  Fiction with a very small historically acurate bite.  Synesthesia is sometimes called the sixth sense.)

 

The Sixth Sense

 

492 BCE

“She’s not like her sisters, or her cousins. I’ll tell you who she is like. She’s like my crazy grandmother. Make it stop. Make her better. You’re the one who brought her into the world. Fix her.”

 

Adnodike regarded the fidgeting young girl. Apart from the stress her mother’s hysterics induced she seemed like any child her age.

 

“Perhaps I could have a few minutes with Anthea?”

 

When the girl’s mother left there was considerably more air in the room.

 

“So, Anthea, how do you feel about all this?”

 

The slender girl shook her head slowly. “I’ve always been this.way.”

 

“Can you describe it to me?”

 

“Well, I can feel colors.”

 

“Red is hot, blue is cold?”

 

“No.” She giggled. “Yellow makes me laugh and blue makes me cry and orange makes me hungry.”

 

“I see. And is this a problem for you?”

 

“No. But I don’t like vegetables.”

 

“How do they make you feel.”

 

“Yuck.”

 

“Well that sounds perfectly normal. Would you mind talking with me more about this?”

 

“I like you.”

 

“And I like you, too. So, here’s what we’ll do. I will prescribe a nice tea for you to drink before bedtime, do you like honey? I’ll give your mother some tea, too, but different. And she will bring you back once a week. What do you think?”

 

“I like honey.”

 

Notes: Child presents with unusual relationship to colors. Somewhat like that shepherd from Athens, Marcus something?

 

 

 

 

185 CE

Zhongjing’s patience was growing thin. Bao had taken up most of the morning complaining about his son Chao.

 

“He is filled with dreams, Master. Always talking dreams. I have such hopes for his future, but what to do with this boy and his dreams?”

 

The doctor sighed and glanced over the notes before him. “All children dream. All fathers have hope. This is common.”

 

“But he says the world is filled with color.”

 

“The world is filled with color.”

 

“Yes, Master, but he says that sounds have colors. Dogs barking, birds singing, people talking, color everywhere, all the time!”

 

Zhongjing leaned back and regarded the boy.

 

Unimpressive. Chubby. Sullen. The Master nodded once, what was this? A play for attention? Something to make himself special?

 

“What color are my words?”

 

“Your words have no color, Master.” The boy said.

 

“Ha!” Exclaimed Boa.

 

“Your voice is green.”

 

“My voice is green. Your father’s voice?”

 

“Blue with flecks of red.”

 

“Your mother’s voice?”

 

“Soft yellow.”

 

“You have a new sister. What color…?”


“She cries constantly,” Boa interrupted.

 
“Pink, like spring blossoms.”

 

The old doctor smiled.

 

“Bring him back to me. And bring the baby.”

1752 CE

“Get on wi it, Mary.”

 

“He says he canna read fer all the colors!”

 

“Well, son? What do yee say?”

 

“Too many colors.”

 

“Aye?”

 

“Run into one another so I canna read the words.”

 

“Does he need specs?” Mary asked hopefully.

 

“Nay. He needs a good hiding.”

 

“I get one every day. At least.”

 

The doctor wrote down a word on the page and held it up. “What colors do you see?” He winked at Mary.

 

“Yee spelled ‘idiot’ wrong. ‘I’ is green, ‘D’ is yella, ‘Y’ is pink, the ‘Es’ are blue, and the ‘T’ is lilac. And there’s nay point showin’ my ma. She canna read. Ouch!”

 

“He’ll grow out o’ it if he knows what’s good fer 'im. Yee ken, Jamie?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“What? What do yee ken, son?”

 

“Keep it t’mysel’.”




In 1845 Ralph Waldo Emerson received a letter from Henry David Thoreau regarding Emerson's eight year old daughter, Ellen, and her ability to “see” color in words. This is a notable event in the study of Synesthesia.




1973 CE

 

“Daisy’s trippin’”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What’s she on?”

 

“Nothin’ she sees colors and shapes in the air all the time.”

 

“LSD, man?”

 

“No, man.”

 

“Cool.”





2022 CE

Luce sat on the edge of the plastic chair and waited. She shivered. She was cold, she was scared. This was her third visit to the doctors in the last month. Each time there were more tests, more forms with more questions, all timed by a doctor with a stopwatch.

 

She was wearing noise canceling headphones.

 

A nurse came into the waiting room and Luce rose and followed her, allowing herself to be led down a corridor to an airy conference room at the end of the hall. Inside seated at a large table were four doctors, two she recognized, Dr. Abby and Dr. Stevens. The first she liked the second she loathed.

 

Dr. Abby smiled, “Come sit by me, Luce. We have some exciting news for you.”

 

The girl lowered herself onto a chair and waited.

 

Dr. Stevens cleared his throat.

 

“Well, Lucile, you present a bit of a problem for us. We’ve run all the tests we can, but we need to find out so much more about your striking ability. Meet Dr. Huang and Dr. Schiller. They are taking part in a study of Synestheia in Boston and would very much like to examine you over the next six months.”

 

“They already did.” She said dispassionately.

 

“We’d like to take it further than the basic workup we were able to do here. You present with some unique attributes that are of special interest to us. You will be very comfortable, and Dr. Abby will accompany you," said Dr. Huang.

 

“I have a cat.”

 

“Of course, you may bring your cat.” Dr. Schiller interrupted. “We want you to enjoy your time in Boston. Dr. Huang’s team has prepared a home for you, so you will be able to live a normal life. You can attend to your schooling online. The only thing that will change is the location.”

 

“Do I have a choice?”

 

“No.” Dr. Stevens said.

 

Luce turned to Dr. Abby, “Will you be bringing Pickles with you?”

 

“I’m sure we can get you some pickles if you like them.” Dr. Huang said.

 

“Pickles is my cat, Luce’s cat’s mother. I can bring her if you like, though they might not get along now that Pinkie is grown.” She turned to the new doctors and explained, “Pickles was lost for a few days and Luce told me that she would come home and have kittens. She asked for one and got the pick of the litter.”

 

“They’ll be fine, Abby.” Luce stated calmly.

 

“Lucile, is there anything else we can tell you or get you?” Dr. Schiller asked.

 

“I prefer to be called Luce.”

 

“Done!”

 

“Oh! I didn’t know that. I’ll call you Luce from now on.” Dr. Stevens said.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be seeing you again.”

 

Dr. Stevens laughed. “You won’t, why’s that?”

 

Luce looked at him, then at Abby and glanced away.

 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going skiing this weekend?”

 

“Yes! I am. How did you know?”

 

She pointed to his briefcase, “New toque.”

 

“Ah! Clever!”

 
...Two weeks later.


“Do you like the house that you and Abby share?”

 

“Very much.”

 

“And the cats get along?”

 

“They do.”

 

Dr. Schiller cleared his throat nervously, “how did you know you wouldn’t be seeing Dr. Stevens again?”

 

“His voice was black.”

 

“This is what we want to understand.”

 

“I know. But you won’t.”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“There are things we’re not ready to know yet.”

 

(Prov. 3: 5-6)