Hangar 13

Mac added more ketchup to his second hamburger. “Okay, shoot.”

“Native Americans and women tend to be right-brain dominant. Science has established that the right brain’s function is very different from the left brain’s. The left hemisphere processes information based on logic, on physical evidence from our senses. It can speak to us with a sound, a voice, and we all hear it.” She tapped the right side of her head. “The right brain can’t speak to us in the same way.”

“So,” Mac said, buttering a second roll, “does the right brain ‘talk’ to us?”

“Excellent question,” Ellie praised. “Yes, it does, but in a far-more-subtle form. You’d call it intuition, or a gut feeling. I’m sure you’ve heard talk of women’s intuition. Well, some women are simply more in touch with their right brain. Unfortunately, society doesn’t always take this kind of knowledge seriously.”

“I see.”

“You may ‘see,’ in one way, Mac, but you can’t really understand the process. In the Native American culture, we are taught that women know what they know, and that it is different from how men know the same thing. One way isn’t more right than another.”

“Johanna, my ex-wife, used to tell me that when she was in college, she’d come up with the right answers on her math tests, but she wouldn’t be able to remember the formula or how she got the answer.”

Ellie smiled broadly. “That’s right. That’s the right-brain way—making the quantum leap to the answer. It doesn’t care how it got the answer like the left brain does.”

“She flunked the algebra course because she couldn’t prove how she arrived at the answers.”

“I’m sure she did, because most schools and colleges are based on left-brain thinking.”

“How did you do in school?”

“I was able to stay home and be taught by my mother. Right-brain methods of learning are very different from left-brain methods. My mother used a very practical teaching method with me—show-and-tell. I learned by doing, or what is known as hands-on experience. My father, who is a white man and a plumber by profession, taught me his business as I grew up. I watched him do it, and then mimicked his actions. It was very practical.”

“Not a lot of theory, philosophy or left-brain stuff?”

“Precisely.” Ellie got up and removed their plates. “Would you like a slice of homemade cherry pie?”

Mac grinned sheepishly. “Will I be indicted if I say yes?”

“There’s no guesswork with you,” Ellie said with a chuckle as she removed the cherry pie from a cupboard and cut two thick slices.

“My stomach has always been my downfall,” he admitted. “I like home cooking. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it as long as you help with the cooking and not just the eating.” She smiled and put the plate before him.

“I can’t even boil water. I’d make a crummy cook. Thanks, this looks good.”

“That’s because your mother never made you come into the kitchen and learn to cook.” Ellie sat down and enjoyed the silence that blanketed them while they ate dessert. It was obvious Major Mac Stanford had enjoyed the meal.

“Do you make your own meals?” she wondered aloud.

With a shrug, Mac said, “Usually I go to a restaurant off base for dinner.”

“I see….”

“I’m sure you do.” He liked the sparkle in Ellie’s eyes as he met and held her gaze.

“Let me take it a step further, then. The right brain, scientifically speaking, is the creative side of ourselves. It is the seat of our emotions, our feelings. The left brain is tied into lists, black-and-white issues, practicality and strict visual observation.”

“That’s why women are more emotional than men?”

“I’m not letting you get away with that generality,” Ellie said grimly. “Let’s put the shoe on the other foot, Mac—both genders have both brain hemispheres in their head. There is nothing that says men can’t begin utilizing their right brain more.”

With a groan, Mac said, “Now I get it. This is the sensitive man of the nineties you’re talking about, the one who is using his right brain?”

“And his left.” Ellie waved her fork at him. “Don’t you think it’s better for both genders to use both parts of their brains?”

Mac nodded. “Your argument has some interesting concepts, Ms. O’Gentry, but what does it have to do with my problem in Hangar 13?”

“It has to do with metaphysical law. The left brain’s entire function is to keep our focus—our living, if you will—strictly channeled in this third-dimensional world. It has a filter that stops potential information from any other dimension from coming in and disrupting our reality.”

Mac stared at her. “Okay, so far, so good. You’re saying the left brain puts a certain kind of blinders on us, like you would on a horse pulling a carriage?”

“Exactly. The right brain has no such ‘blinders’ or filter in place, so it’s open to receiving all the information that surrounds us, whether it can be seen with our physical eyes or not.”

“What else is out there that the right lobe perceives?” Mac asked.

“Great question. Science acknowledges that we have at least three dimensions.” Ellie touched the table with her long fingers. “We can see three sides to this table, so three dimensions are involved.”

“Science would agree with you.”

She smiled a little. “The right lobe can see into the fourth dimension, Mac, the one scientists don’t want to confirm exists.” She touched the middle of her forehead. “Remember earlier I told you that the right lobe’s ‘eye’ was located here, the brow chakra?”

“Yes?”

“Well, if a person wants to, he can see through this table, which means he is viewing it through the fourth dimension. But he is ‘seeing’ with this invisible eye here in the center of his forehead. Anyone, with some work, can literally ‘switch’ to his right brain, close his eyes and do this.”

Mac sat back, digesting the wild allegation. She obviously believed that what she was saying was the absolute truth. “I’m having a tough time buying this.”

“Of course you are. Everything in your life has been predicated on left-brain ways. If you can’t see it, weigh it or measure it, it doesn’t exist. Yet—” Ellie smiled “—how do you explain dreams that come true, or a mother knowing her child is in danger or has been hurt before the phone call comes to validate it?”

“Okay…is that right-brain territory? Dreams? Telepathy?”

“Yes.” She was pleased with his ability to catch on quickly. “People utilize their right lobe every day—they just don’t realize it. As a shamaness, I have a special talent for using my right lobe. That’s how I’m able to help people. And now,” Ellie concluded, “back to the drawing board regarding your problem at Hangar 13.” She found herself wanting to ask Mac a lot more personal questions, because despite his military background, and his very one-sided view of the world, he was trying to comprehend her world, too. She found that praiseworthy.

“The fourth dimension is already acknowledged by the scientific community,” she went on. “Quantum physics is about that dimension. Our right brain has the capacity, the genetic setup, to see into that dimension, just as our physical eyes comprehend the first three dimensions. People like myself who have a strong genetic predisposition to right-brain activity, and who do a lot of personal work developing that lobe, can see into the dimension at will.”

“How is it done?” Mac asked. His curiosity was piqued; he always liked exploring new territory, no matter where it was located.

“The right brain’s ability to perceive the fourth dimension can be triggered in so many ways. For some, it’s achieved through meditation. For others, through hallucinogenic drugs.”

“And you?”

“A drum.”

Mac gave her a blank look and saw her smile slightly.

“Native Americans, at least in North America, use the drum, a rattle, or a song or series of songs to create the proper vibrational environment that allows us to slip into the fourth dimension.”