The Searching Soul

by Ronald Zastre

  ***

  “I think you should talk to Winston,” Alice said to Carl. They were sitting on the edge of a fountain.

  “We hate each other,” Carl said matter of factually, “I don’t think much would be accomplished.”

  “He said he’s been roughing you up on purpose. He didn’t elaborate why, but said he needed to talk to you.”

  “I don’t know, he’s on the other side of the fence.” Carl sat thinking.

  “Can’t hurt to try,” Alice coerced. “Give him some credit, you may be surprised.”

  “I’m not afraid to try, but you’re wrong about can’t hurt. I work for a very proud, dedicated program and they might not take too kindly to my fraternizing with the enemy.”

  “How are you going to figure this out, if you can’t explore a little? I mean, if it’s a situation that can be rectified from within, fine, if not, you’re doing a disservice not to investigate.”

  “I hate people that make sense,” Carl muttered.

  ***

  Carl and Amy were back in the apartment.

  “I put a call into Winston this afternoon,” Carl said to Amy.

  “That’s your job.”

  “I’ve decided to be nice.”

  “Who’s going to pay for that?” Amy said, looking at him with a quizzical look on her face.

  “I can be nice if I need to be, without having to act on the shame I feel because of it.”

  “There’s a terrific example.”

  “You know what I really like about you?” Carl said, grabbing her in a head lock. “You don’t trust me.”

  “Why does that curdle your cream?” Amy said, punching him hard in the gut.

  “It keeps me from disgracing myself,” Carl let her go, rubbing his stomach.

  The phone started to ring, Amy being closer answered it. “Hello Boroughs and Sands, if we can’t fix it, it ain’t broken.” Who ever was on the other end made her laugh.

  “Yeah, he’s here, and I’ve softened him up for you,” she laughed again.

  “Winston Adams, yes, he’s spoken of you . . . No, nothing good to say.”

  Carl grabbed the phone from her, and shaking his fist, gave her an; I’ll get you later smile.

  “Yeah Winston what do you want?”

  Carl listened.

  “I guess, . . . yeah, yeah, we’ve been acting like children . . . Hey, I said ‘we’ didn’t I . . . Hey, if you can shed some light, I’d be more than willing to talk . . . Of course I can be civil. How about you? . . . Good, I’ll call tomorrow.”

  “Did I hear this right, you and Winston playing kissy kissy?” Amy had an unbelieving look on her face.

  “It was far from that!”

  “But, still, Carl, my gosh, you have matured. Be careful though, I’m just here for the emotional superiority I feel when you act silly. You lose that little boy thing, and I may have to go elsewhere for gratification.”

  “Florence you Nightingale,” Carl snarled.

  Chapter 8

  CARL WAS WALKING TOWARDS A GOLF RANGE - “That’s not the worst slice I’ve ever seen,” Carl stated dryly, walking up to Winston who had just hit a ball.

  “It’s consistent,” Winston said, teeing up another range ball. “I used to know how to play it,”

  “Used to?”

  “When I was growing up my parents had a membership at a private club. We lived on the tenth hole, and I could go out anytime, by myself, and play and play and play. Just walk out there, throw a ball or two down and go. I got pretty good, so back then it was called a fade. I really enjoyed the solitude. Now I can’t do that anywhere, so I don’t play very much, and now it’s back to a slice.”

  “Ah,” Carl said, getting out a club, getting a ball and taking a swing.

  “What’s your fatal flaw with this game?” Winston asked, watching the shot he had just hit.

  “I never got a chance to even get close to being good.”

  “No opportunity, or no desire?”

  “One leads to the other. I grew up in the middle of a big city, and the only thing we used the nearby golf course for was getting Mary Lou alone in the dark.”

  “Then you have an honest love for the game.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do,” Carl said cheerfully. “Before we go any farther, I need your explanation on something.”

  “How am I getting information that’s classified?”

  Carl didn’t say anything.

  “Come on Carl, we need to clear that up before we can even get in that cart together.” Winston pointed to the golf cart they were going to share.

  “Guess you’re right there.”

  “I know Alice told you about me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you believe her?”

  “I’m the co-director of a government agency, and I’m in charge of public relations. I’m having a gigantic problem with a certain gentleman that knows things he shouldn’t. Another person tells me; oh, this first guy, the one that knows too much, he’s not cheating, he’s just psychic.”

  “Yeah.” Winston was shaking his head slowly, kind of snickering. “I can see where you’d have to be careful.”

  “Tell you what Winston,” Carl said over his shoulder, heading for the golf cart. “I’m not going to believe anything, totally, yet, but that’s not to say that you can’t impress me in the future.”

  “I will be honest, I promise,” Winston said, sitting down on the passengers side. “Now, about the game we came here to play?”

  “I always play for money,” Carl said, stepping on the accelerator.

  “Sounds good to me.” Winston smiled. “Can we trust each other to make some kind of fair wagger?”

  “I doubt it.” Carl looked over at Winston, a devious look on his face.

  “Oh goody!” Winston yelped. “This is going to be fun.”

  ***

  “I’m glad we got together Winston,” Carl commented out on the course after a few holes.

  “You’re comfortable with me because you’re winning, or because I’m not such a bad guy.”

  “Ah, a little of both, but don’t worry, I’m not the gloating type. Besides, I got over taking this game too serious a long time ago.

  “Didn’t help any?”

  “Ran out of clubs.”

  “Did Mary Lou play golf?”

  “In fact, she did. She loved that course, day and night.”

  “Heh, heh, heh, I can appreciate that. You guys getting anywhere with Donald?”

  “Hell no! We can’t get a line on anything. It’s all still speculation.”

  “Don’t be offended, but you’re not thinking right. You’re not looking in the right place.”

  “Meaning?” Carl looked quickly at Winston

  “Carl, your people are engineers, scientists, mathematicians, right?”

  “I know what we are, make some sense.”

  “Alice tells me that you have brought in a number of psychology experts, looking for mental aspects, mental irregularities, dreams, psychic possibilities, that direction.”

  “If you want to do Alice a favor, don’t let anyone know we’ve talked.”

  “I understand.”

  “Yes, we’re looking at all the possibilities?”

  “It’s a matter of advanced physics, I think. I would look there. Put your best math people on it.”

  “They’ve been complaining of head aches and chewing their nails like everyone else and have come up with nothing.”

  “I wish I could help more, but things just pop into my head and I have no idea why, sorry.”

  “Physics you say?”

  “It all has something to do with a connection that is out of it’s element. It was supposed to go away, be absorbed, something like that, but for some reason it didn’t. That’s all I’m getting. You need to define that connection, find out what it is.

  “A connection, that’s all you’ve got?”

  “That’s it,” Winston sighed deeply and looked at Carl. Hi
s look was one of sincerity. “I know this because it is the same connection, the same thing that allows me to get into peoples thoughts. It’s like a road, something I can travel to get somewhere. It is very real and very defined, when it’s open. I would like someone to be able to explain it to me.

  “That’s why you’re here?”

  “It’s time, I can feel it.” Winston’s thoughts seemed far away. “It’s going to be just simple science, I know it.”

  “Simple, I don’t think so?”

  “It is a discovery waiting to be made.” Winston looked at Carl. “Once it’s discovered, it will be simple. Like everything we’ve discovered up to date. It will be a great discovery, something that will benefit us all. You aren’t a religious man?”

  “Is that a question or a statement?” Carl asked.

  “I’m looking for confirmation.”

  “I’m not a religious man.”

  “Why?” Winston asked, looking seriously at Carl.

  “Is this pertinent to anything, or you writing a book?”

  “I’m not trying to be difficult or condescending, but I know that you have simple beliefs when it comes to religious matters.

  “Simple as in?”

  “I’m sorry if I sound like the old Winston, but if I don’t explain, you will revert to the old Carl and we will make asses of ourselves on this beautiful day, at this wonderful place. It is imperative that you have a rational belief about many things, especially concerning God and associated issues. There’s going to be people that won’t believe it’s simple science, and people that are going to want it for themselves. You will need to be able to rationalize, to remain objective. There will be some people you can trust, many that will disappoint you.”

  “Jesus Winston, you’re scaring me. I’m just a simple man, and you’re talking about monumental discoveries. You’re talking like this could be some huge religious event, and to watch my back.”

  “It’s not, but there will be attempts to make it look that way. In the end, it will all make sense and you Dinky, will be a part of it.”

  Chapter 9

  CARL AND MAC ARE IN MAC’S OFFICE - “I am especially perturbed that you found it necessary to confide in Winston concerning our problems at this agency,” Mac said to Carl.

  “Winston is a problem,” Carl stated. “How do you want me to handle it, put out a contract on him?”

  “Jesus Carl, don’t even kid about something like that,” Mac said, jumping up from behind his desk.

  “Well, what then?”

  “I just don’t like the idea of you getting chummy with him.”

  “I figured if Winston ‘is’ getting information, maybe he has an explanation.”

  “Not that bull Alice laid on us.”

  “I don’t think it’s bull, Mac.”

  “Carl!” Mac shouted. “This is a scientific program you and I are responsible for. I can’t have my people running around, sighting hocus-pocus as a viable solution to our problems.”

  “Mac!” Carl shouted back. “We’ve got a dead man up there that’s sending us signals from the most extreme environment imaginable. Talk about hocus-pocus. Winston said something that caught my attention,” Carl said calmly “I think he may have special talents.”

  Mac didn’t say anything. Carl could tell Mac wanted to continue with his tirade, to bully him into submission, but was unsure it would work.

  “What’s got you so convinced about Winston’s special talents?” Mac said, sitting down.

  “He called me Dinky.”

  “He was just insulting you.”

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “He called me a nickname, a name from the past.”

  “And you think he read your mind? Carl, he could have gotten information like that from a dozen places.”

  “No, no way.”

  “Carl, sham artists do it all the time. They—”

  “No way Mac,” Carl interrupted.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Mac, remember my entire family was killed a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, car accident wasn’t it? What has that got to do with Winston calling you Dinky?

  “Dinky was what my brother called me. He started out calling me ‘The Little Dink’, but my mother used to get mad, so he changed it to Dinky, and that got by her.”

  “And you think that Winston read your mind, just because he called you Dinky? Hell Carl, get serious, he could have gotten it from anyplace.”

  “No, Mac. My brother only called me Dinky around my mother, just to get her goat. He was that kind of kid. He never used it around anybody else, and when he died, I never heard it again.”

  “Get serious Carl. You can’t go around admitting that you believe in mind readers?”

  “Why not, there are so many things we’re just learning about Mac.”

  “Ah, God Carl, I can’t even believe we’re discussing something as absurd as this.”

  “Mac, my parents and brother were killed when I was seven. That was the last time Dinky was ever used. No way anyone would know about that name, I’m certain of that.”

  “He’s messing with you, don’t take it serious.”

  “Yeah Mac, he’s messing with me all right, but he’s scary. According to Alice, Winston doesn’t read a persons conscious mind, but is able to enter their subconscious and sort of rummage around, getting bits and pieces. Everything that has happened to us is stored there.”

  Mac happened to look over to the TV he had requested to be placed in his office. It was always on, the sound way down. There was a knock on the window from outside, and one of the crew out there pointed to the TV and signaled seven with his fingers. Mac got the remote and changed the channels.

  “Who’s this?” Mac asked, looking at the screen.

  Carl came around so he could see. “I’ll be damned, it’s the Reverend Hollsworth.

  “What? The crazy demented guy? That’s not him,” Mac said, turning up the volume.

  “He is going to make us join him! He is waiting and hungry for our assistance!” The Reverend Hollsworth’s voice boomed. His image had changed dramatically from his initial appearance three days before. Now he was clean shaven, dressed in a beautifully tailored, pale blue suit, expensive tie, and shirt to complement it. His hair had been cut, and some dentist had done the most remarkable job on his teeth that sparkled bright white.

  “Who is it you are referring to?” the interviewer asked.

  “The One, the One that is not a part of us all.”

  “Are you referring to the astronaut?”

  “Yes, we are all distant from each other standing upon this Earth, but He is the one that looks down upon us now, and sees!”

  “Ah . . . what is your prediction?” stammered the interviewer.

  “He is coming!” the Reverend Hollsworth threw his arms high and wide, tears streaming down his cheeks. “They are bringing Him to us, why are they doing that?”

  Chapter 10

  THE REVEREND HOLLSWORTH HAD - gathered another following. “The Devil struck the astronaut down, and now He’s the vehicle to bring His hatred down to us all,” the Reverend Hollsworth screamed, using his popular recognizable stance, the arms flung wide, the hands trembling, thrust up toward the heavens. “We can’t allow him to return for he is no longer a man. Stand up for your salvation, call them, tell them, the astronaut must not be returned! He will destroy us all!” This time his ranting was carried live on at least five channels, and by the end of the day, it was the rare channel that hadn’t rerun his warning.

  ***

  Carl opened the door to Mac’s office, Denny and Spencer were already there.

  “The religious right is panicking. The White House just called me and they’re uncertain how to defuse all this,” Mac said, rubbing both his temples this time.

  “They can’t be serious about taking those people serious?” Denny commented.

  “We are talking about a
lmost twenty percent of the population scared shitless that Donald is going to bring Armageddon back with him,” Mac cried. “If the numbers go any higher it’s getting close to a viable block of voters, and the politicians take that in earnest, no matter how ridiculous the issue may be.”

  “You mean if enough people start pissing their pants, Donald could stay up there?” Spencer asked.

  Mac sighed deeply. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Jesus!” Carl exclaimed.

  Mac threw up his arms immediately, halting Carl. “I’d forgo using any references that might provoke any side right now,” said Mac quickly.

  Carl just stood, shaking his head. “We took it in the shorts for not bringing him right back, what a switch.”

  “Thank Hollsworth,” Mac said.

  “Thanks Reverend,” Carl used the tone his daughter used on him.

  “I’m glad you can take this so lightly,” Mac griped.

  Spencer held up his hand. “Hey, I know, let’s start a rumor that it’s really the second coming. If that gets around our problem will be solved. They’ll want him down tomorrow.”

  Denny shot Spencer a look. Spencer kind of grinned, knowing he might have gone too far, but Mac didn’t respond verbally. He just looked at Spencer and shook his head. Mac hustled everyone but Carl out of his office.

  “There’s not much we can do, you know,” Carl commented.

  “Puufft, don’t I know it. Why the hell call us, as if we could change public opinion. I’m predicting that the three weeks until we can get to him will be a big blessing.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Hollsworth will have to keep up the pressure, and maybe there’ll be a little burn out,” Mac chewed on his lip. “Although, Spencer’s idea wasn’t half bad.”

  “Carl started laughing. “If anyone here heard you admit that Spencer made any sense in policies.” Carl was still laughing and shaking his head, “I don’t know.”

  “The little ass isn’t as dumb as he looks,” Mac laughed back.

  Chapter 11

  CARL AND AMY WERE IN THE APARTMENT - “That Hollsworth is really stirring up the public,” Amy commented.

  “Everybody’s ducking the issue of what we’re really dealing with,” Carl returned. “It’s something this, something that, and the problem is referred to as ‘This Thing’. It’s like everyone is afraid to define . . . what we’re up against.”