Fire In The Mind: Leonard Wise Book 1

by Arjay Lewis

  “Hello?” I’d said.

  “Is this the esteemed Doctor Leonard Wise?” the familiar voice said.

  This is Len,” I said to the voice, puzzled.

  “Well, Mr. Big Shot Doctor, you might like to hear from an associate dean from a university who wants you to give a lecture.”

  That’s how it started. I learned my old college chum was that associate dean, and he wanted me to come to my old alma mater in New Jersey to give a talk about parapsychology—for money, no less.

  But married?

  I looked over at my oldest friend in the light from the dashboard. His hair was short, and his hairline was further back than it was seven years ago at Cathy’s funeral.

  He was so young, mid-twenties, then but now—at least thirty-two and married—I guess it made sense.

  I’d be married if Cathy were alive. That’s what was supposed to happen.

  “When did all this…?” I asked, trailing off.

  Jon laughed his big laugh and gave me a carefree grin. “It took a while, actually. I met this girl about six years ago, and dated her for five before she finally said yes.”

  “Why did it take so long?”

  “She planned to not get married. She likes to follow a plan. But after years of begging, I wore her down. You’ll like her, Len—I mean, Doctor.”

  “Enough with the Doctor crap, Jon. It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal? You graduate first in your class in medical school—”

  “That was years ago—”

  “Then you go off to California to study psychiatry—”

  “Neither was my path,” I interrupted as I attempted to sound sage.

  “Yeah, right. Then you go off to study with Kohl—one of the biggest names in the field—and finally get your PhD. It took you long enough. Len, you ought to be proud.”

  “I am, Jon,” I said. “Just not stupid enough to think that any degree means anything in the real world. Your lecture was the first job offer I’ve had. There isn’t much call for doctors of parapsychology.”

  “Hell, Len, for twenty bucks, I can get you a certificate that makes you a reverend who can perform weddings.”

  “It might come to that,” I grumbled as I watched the wet pavement and how our headlights reflected on the shiny surface. Just like the night Cathy died. Roads are treacherous in the rain, especially the busy, hilly roads of my native state.

  “Earth to Leonard,” Jon said, and I realized he’d been speaking.

  “I’m sorry,” I said and tried to focus. “Long trip. What were you saying?”

  “I was saying that there may be more opportunities than you think. You’ve received a lot of press over the last year.”

  I made a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a groan. “Yeah, mostly in the National Enquirer: Super Psychic Hunts Down Treasure in Haunted Mansion.”

  “Come on, Len. It was the Associated Press, and it was impressive. You actually found physical evidence that only the person who died in that house could know.”

  “I got lucky. Doctor Kohl deserves the credit, he trained me.”

  “But you’re the one who found the stuff. And that house was famous—so many other people tried…”

  And I didn’t finish the job. The words jumped into my head as I watched us move along. The windshield wipers smacked to a steady beat. “So where am I staying?” I asked. “Some motel on Route Three?”

  “Staying?” Jon clucked, taken aback. “Len, you’re staying with us—Jenny and me. Come on, I didn’t bring you here to stick you in some motel. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  I smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s just I haven’t been here since…the funeral.”

  “I know, Len,” he said. “That’s why I think some home cooking and friends would be good for you.”

  “You didn’t invite me out here just to offer me a handout, did you, Jon?”

  “Len, you are giving a lecture, and you’re a hell of a lot cheaper than most lecturers.”

  With his eyes on the road, Jon released his right hand, reached into the back seat, and brought up a single-page flyer. Emblazoned across a bad photo of me were the words:

  PARAPSYCHOLOGY & EVIDENCE GATHERING

  Is energy reading the new forensic science?

  LECTURE

  by Leonard Wise PhD

  The flyer was designed with garish colors and it made me wonder if I would be giving a lecture or be part of a circus. Perhaps if I did magic like my brother, the Las Vegas star, it might attract a larger audience.

  “I think I have pulled off a coup. I got you before you became so busy that I couldn’t afford you. After all, I’ve got a budget to keep balanced.”

  “I thought associate dean was more of a figurehead position.”

  “No, Len. I’m the one who does the work. But Dean Walters can shake hands with the best of them—and charisma—he gets people to donate money like it was their idea. That’s really what a dean does. I’m learning a lot from Walters.”

  “Good attitude,” I said as he pulled the car into a driveway.

  We were on one of Mountainview’s slumbering streets, with houses lined up on similar plots of land. Each had a two-car garage and enough variation to not look like a “created” neighborhood, though I was sure it was.

  The garage door opened with the push of a remote control, and we drove inside. The door rumbled down behind us as we got out of the car.

  Jon ran back to the tailgate and with a grunt, extracted my backpack.

  “What the hell you got in here, Len? Rocks?”

  “Pretty much everything I own, Jon. I have a low-possession lifestyle.”

  He held up his two open fingers in a peace sign. “Groovy, man.”

  “Part of my training,” I shrugged.

  We walked to a nearby door that he went in first, bellowing, “He’s here!”

  I felt like this was an entrance into a party where hidden guests would leap out and yell, “Surprise!”

  The garage door led us past a laundry room, and he steered me to a bedroom next to it. It was simple but tastefully decorated, with yellow drapes and bedspread. He dropped my heavy bag on the small bed, which it almost completely covered.

  “This OK?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Fine, fine.”

  “Come on,” he said and patted my shoulder. “I’ll fix you a drink.”

  “Got any herbal tea?” I asked, my mouth full of cotton.

  “Maybe,” he said with a frown as we walked into the kitchen.

  “Well, there you are!” a female voice said.

  I looked up and stopped. There stood a woman I knew—or was it her? For a moment, I thought my tired mind had begun to hallucinate. Before us was Cathy.

  My Cathy stood in front of us.

  Jon didn’t even notice that I had stopped and was gawking in his hallway. He pushed past me to give this woman a kiss.

  She wasn’t a ghost or the creation of my brain. This woman was real, flesh and blood.

  They both turned to look at me.

  “Len, this is Jenn…but most people call her Jenny,” he said with pride, then he hesitated for a moment.

  “Are you all right?” Jenny/Cathy asked.

  I shut my open mouth so fast and hard, I heard my teeth clunk together. “Yes!” I said too brightly. “I’m sorry, I’m fine.” I held out my hand. “I’m Leonard, Leonard Wise.”

  “Doctor Leonard Wise,” Jon added.

  I shook Jenny’s hand and tried hard to focus on her face, to find anything that didn’t match my memory of Cathy. Her hair was a slightly different shade, perhaps her bosom a tad larger—I could see now that she was several inches shorter. But there was no doubt. She was the physical embodiment of my Cathy, from the color of her eyes to the way she held her head.


  Jenny was aware I was staring.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, her tone playful. “Did I grow a second head?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said and glanced away. “Jon didn’t mention the resemblance.”

  “Resemblance?” Jon frowned. “What are you talking about, Len?”

  “You’re kidding,” I said. “You don’t see it?”

  “What?”

  I met his eyes, and for the briefest moment, touched his mind. He didn’t see it, not at all. Christ, the three of us had been great friends back in the day.

  I remembered the night of the party—the last night I could bend my knee. Jon came up to me, drunk as could be. He hugged me and told me how lucky I was, how much he would’ve liked to find a woman just like Cathy.

  Apparently, he did.

  “He must be talking about my resemblance to several great starlets,” Jenny said to fill the silence with good humor. “After all, I’m a dead ringer for a young Meryl Streep.”

  “If you were taller, thinner, and your hair a different color,” Jon said to play along.

  “Or Kathleen Turner?”

  “Not even close!” Jon roared.

  “Sandra Bullock?” Jenny went on.

  “She’s too skinny, I like you the way you are,” Jon said and gave her a peck on the top of her head.

  “Yes,” I said, forcing a smile. “That must be it. I mistook you for all three of them.”

  Jenny nodded with a grin. “I think we’ll get along fine, Len.”

  “How about that drink?” Jon suggested, steering us to the nearby kitchen where he opened a cabinet.

  “I was more interested in tea,” I said.

  “I have chamomile,” Jenny offered, opening a cabinet lower to the floor. She must have been a foot shorter that Jon. She pulled out an almost empty box and lit a fire under a steel teapot on the stove.

  I fought my desire to watch her move, to find the differences I desperately sought.

  I looked over to Jon, who was opening a brand-new bottle of my favorite cognac. The bouquet of the amber liquid teased my nose even from several feet away as he poured it into a brandy snifter.

  I closed my eyes for a second or two and tried to create some distance. I needed to put myself into the role of the observer, the way Doctor Kohl taught me, where I perceived everything, but held no attachment. It was just pictures in my mind. Inhale and exhale.

  I opened my eyes to find both Jon and Jenny staring at me.

  “Sorry,” I said, embarrassed. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep on the train.”

  They both nodded and became the perfect hosts. They asked me about the trip, and we stood around the darkened kitchen drinking our tea and cognac. I kept my focus on Jon, and each time I turned to Jenny, I was again struck by the uncanny likeness to my dead fiancée. I did pretty well, though. I didn’t stare or lose my train of thought again.

  “So, you’re giving the lecture on Tuesday, Len,” Jon was saying. “Is that enough time?”

  “It’s already written,” I assured him. “I’ll run over my notes one or two more times. This is Sunday, so yes, Tuesday works.”

  Two days away. Two days of living with my oldest friend and a clone of my long-lost love. I considered that I could lock myself in the guest room and never come out.

  “That’s great!” Jon said. “And I love the title, Parapsychology and Evidence Gathering. It was an immediate sellout.”

  “Really?” I said. “I was hoping there might be some interest—”

  “Interest? There are still people calling,” Jon said. “I’m telling you, Len, this a great time for what you do. I mean, with the interest in higher consciousness and all.”

  “And you’re there to take it to the bank,” I said with a laugh.

  Jon pretended to be wounded. “I try to give a diverse learning experience. If the university can get some favorable press and a few sold-out lectures, even better.”

  “Jon, I think Len is tired,” Jenny said, and I became aware that she was staring at me for a change.

  “Of course, of course,” Jon said. “You know how I get, Len. Go to bed. Jenn will show you around tomorrow. There have been a lot of changes to this town in seven years.”

  “That would be, uh…nice,” I said as I avoided her eyes.

  We all said our good-nights, and I went to the bedroom, pulled my huge bag off the bed, and put it in the closet. There was a small bathroom with a shower, and I unpacked my toiletries, showered the smell of travel off me, and got into bed naked.

  My mind wanted to keep racing, but I focused on my breath, putting myself into a light meditative state until I dropped off.

  three

  I cleared my throat. “So, in conclusion, I see the next step for forensic science to include not only the use of more sophisticated DNA technologies but the use of trained investigators who study the energy of a scene, working hand in hand with the police and scientists to pursue the truth. Which is, of course, the true desire of any science. I thank you.”

  The capacity crowd rose to their feet and applauded as a single creature while I walked off the stage. The lecture had originally been scheduled for one of the smaller halls, but due to demand, had been moved to the larger auditorium in the Shadowvale Communications Center. The name came from the original estate the college was founded upon, although no buildings still existed from that 1880s original construction.

  Jon was backstage in the wings and gave me two thumbs up, then pushed me back out again to bow and thank the crowd.

  I smiled at the applauding group. It went better than it had any right to. When I’d started, I experienced a moment of stage fright, which was magnified by a man in the first row. Too old to be a student, he sat with crossed arms and legs, wearing a rumpled suit and a scowl that dared me to impress him. Fortunately, I was very prepared, and my experience as a teaching assistant for Doctor Kohl kicked in. I got off of the outcome, and focused on my message.

  Monday and Tuesday had passed quickly, and I had adjusted to life at the Baines’s house. There was a moment of embarrassment Monday when Jenny came in to shake me awake at eleven, and I almost leaped out of the bed in my altogether. She giggled at my attempts to cover my nakedness, just as I remembered Cathy would giggle at moments of my discomfort.

  I dressed and took a half-hour for my morning meditation before I came out and headed for the kitchen, where fresh coffee awaited.

  “How did you sleep?” Jenny asked.

  “Like the dead…what time is it?”

  “Almost noon. Guess you needed to catch up. I took the day off from work to show you around.”

  “I feel guilty about sleeping so late.”

  “It gave me a chance to clean the house.”

  She told me about her job. She worked at Associated Insurance, a major indemnity firm, where she was the head claims adjuster. She and Jon had met while they were both going after their MBAs when Jon found out he had no talent for medicine. He’d spent their senior year proposing.

  “Jon mentioned you kept saying no. How come?” I asked.

  She sighed heavily. “Jonathan Baines is like a force of nature. I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah…”

  “Mormon?” I asked.

  “With bells on. I was one of the middle children in a family of ten.”

  “Ten! Geez.”

  “I was in a protected environment, where each girl was supposed to grow up, have a bevy of children, and stand by her man. I never wanted that. And I didn’t want my dear Jonathan, who is like a big puppy—”

  “Always has been.”

  “I didn’t want him to have to face my family and all those questions about his spiritual life,” Jenny said as she stared at her coffee cup held tightly in her hand. “I didn’t even drink coffee until I went to college. And then Jon, well, let’s
just say I put off intimacy for over a year.”

  “He’s a patient man.”

  She sighed. “He romanced me relentlessly—and oh so sweetly—until I assented. Same thing with proposing. I said no, and he’d go off on a sulk. But he always came back with nothing but love in his heart. Eventually, I realized he wasn’t going to chain me to the kitchen or turn me into a baby machine, so I finally said yes.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “We had a small wedding and wrote them afterward. They haven’t tried to rescue me, or even visit me, so I figured they just decided I was the odd child.” She glanced at her watch. “If you’re ready, I have a tour planned.”

  Jenny took me out and around Mountainview, showing me malls and stores that had sprung up over the years of my absence. She finally took us to a late lunch with Jon at the university cafeteria. I was pleased to see that the ensuing years had left it untouched since I took my premed ten years earlier.

  It was a delightful afternoon, and Jenny was the perfect hostess. I forced myself not to stare at her and just tried to enjoy her for herself. She possessed a ready wit and a ringing laugh, and I did my best to be amusing, just to hear that laugh.

  That night, we all went out to dinner to an Italian restaurant on the edge of town. It was a newly renovated place with a lot of woodwork, open space, decorative flowers, and drapes. The food was simple and tasty. Jon bought wine, but I stuck to the water. After dinner, we strolled the streets; the spring air was mild, so our jackets kept us warm enough.

  Back at home, they had cognac, and I had the herb tea.

  “Quite a dinner,” I said, as Jenny puttered about, and Jon and I sat at the kitchen table.

  “Yeah, I Fratelli is an out-of-the-way place, but the food is good,” Jon said. “Getting acclimated?”

  “Jenny is a good guide,” I said. “I’m starting to recognize things.”

  Jenny pulled out her phone and told me and Jon to say cheese as she clicked off a photo. Then she sat down, and her eyes went from Jon’s face to mine.