[ WP ] Every human is connected to their soulmate through an invisible string since birth

It was in the postpartum recovery room, a couple of hours after the birth, that Jack first remembered to check. He reached towards the bassinet where his newborn son Michael was sleeping and waved his hands, first over his son's head, then shoulders, abdomen, and finally legs. His wife Mary asked, `` What are you doing?'' 
 
 Jack waved his hands over his son again. `` Checking. You know,'' he said, `` for the string.'' 
 
 Mary, who was still exhausted from labor, closed her eyes. `` We would've noticed.'' 
 
 Jack looked at the sleeping newborn's wrinkled face, then swept his hands around the edge of the bassinet. `` Are you sure?'' Mary hummed confidence, then returned to sleeping. 
 
 When the pediatrician came later that day, the first thing Jack did was ask him, `` Where's the string?'' 
 
 `` Let's check,'' said the pediatrician, a young man with a strong jaw. `` They're not hard to find if they're there.'' The pediatrician waved his hand over the bassinet. `` Nothing. Remember, some people do n't even have a string. Even if he does, his soulmate may not have been born yet.'' 
 
 Almost a year later, Jack had forgotten about the string. He was in the living room that evening, watching football, when he heard a whizzing sound. `` Mary?'' he called. `` Was that you?'' 
 
 `` Was what me?'' Mary called back. 
 
 It was a commercial break, so Jack got up. `` That sound. Did you hear that? Did you—'' Something caught his feet, but after a yelp and an awkward stumble, he regained his balance. He looked at the ground, at the clean, empty carpet. `` What did I just trip on?'' 
 
 `` Your feet, dear,'' said Mary, still in the kitchen and washing dishes. 
 
 Jack knelt down and peered at the carpet. `` No, I tripped on something.'' He ran his hand along the carpet, letting the pile run between his fingers. 
 
 Something smooth and thin glided under Jack's fingers. He stopped his hand and ran it again over the same spot. Then he dug the fingers of both hands into the carpet, coming at the spot from opposite sides. When his fingers met, he lifted them, then curled his left hand shut. When he shook his hand up and down he could feel it, whatever it was, but he still could n't see it. 
 
 Jack took it in both hands now. He pulled it taut and looked at the indentations on his fingers. `` Mary?'' he said. `` I'm holding an invisible string.'' 
 
 Jack followed the string, hand over hand, to Michael's crib. Mary turned off the sink and followed wordlessly. At the crib, Jack gave the string a light tug. Michael's belly button flexed. Jack and Mary stared at each other. Then he said, `` I'll get the car. You get the diaper bag.'' 
 
 The string was n't hard to follow. Whenever it seemed to be too loose to give them direction, they'd give it a tug and it would tighten. Once, while they waited at a traffic light, it got too tight, and they watched an SUV run into it. Michael's belly button flexed, and he giggled while the SUV's tires spun and squealed against the invisible restraint. 
 
 Soon they were back at the hospital. The string guided them up the stairs to the maternity ward. At the nurses' desk Jack was flustered. `` I'm here because, well, my son's belly button, it's like it has a string, and we've been following it, so could we—'' 
 
 `` Room five,'' said the nurse. `` They're waiting for you.'' 
 
 Michael had fallen asleep in the car, but the bustle of the hospital had woken him again. He wiggled his arms and legs, motioning to Jack and Mary to put him down. Then he ran ahead to room five. `` Michael!'' called Jack, jogging to keep up. `` Slow down.'' He caught Michael's hand just as they reached the door. His throat was tight. The door seemed impenetrable, like a river he could n't cross. 
 
 Mary knocked. `` Come in,'' they heard. Mary opened the door, and she, Jack, and Michael went inside. On the bed was a young woman in a hospital gown, cradling a newborn girl on her breast. She looked pale, no doubt because she was only just finished with labor. `` Hi,'' she said. 
 
 Michael raced to the bed. `` I want to see her! I want to see her!'' 
 
 `` May he?'' asked Jack. The woman in the bed, and her husband sitting behind her, both nodded. Jack picked up his son and sat him on the edge of the bed. Michael held out his hand, and the infant clasped it. 
 
 `` She's beautiful,'' Michael said. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she drew in a deep breath. `` I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I'll love you forever.'' And Jack relaxed.
