For now, though, Skitter would have to explain to the community what had just happened. Trembling excitedly, he scuttled through the bushes toward the dwellings of his community.
2
Work that night was a blur. Excited about his discovery, Sam moved on autopilot, performing the same tasks he did every day, tasks that were second nature, while his mind was filled with questions about his experience.. He operated his forklift, moving items from one area to another in the warehouse or loading trucks mindlessly. His best friend, Nick, worked the same shift, in a different area of the manufacturing plant. As he repeated the same question for Sam for the third time during lunch break, he stopped talking, snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, and asked: “So, what’s the deal? Are you in love or something?”
Sam shook his head and looked at Nick. “Huh? What? Oh, sorry. I’m a little distracted, have a few things on my mind.”
“Uh-oh,” Nick retorted, “sounds like you have another mystery of the universe that needs solving. What is it this time?”
Laughing, Sam smiled at his friend. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. I’m just trying to figure something out. I’ll let you know if it becomes something interesting.”
Seeming satisfied, Nick shook his shaggy head and turned his attention to his sandwich. Sam reflected that one of the great things about his friend was that he was so laid-back. He would not ask Sam again until Sam was ready to tell him about it. He found it strange that he was reluctant to describe his adventure. It was probably just that he wanted to be sure he experienced what he thought he did before mentioning it, that he didn’t imagine the whole thing. Yeah, that was it.
Looking over at his friend, he marveled how much he had changed over the years they had known each other. It used to be that Nick was the smaller of the two, the skinnier one. It was definitely different now. At least three inches taller than Sam’s average 5’10” frame, he was also twice as wide. Not wide as in fat. No, he had very little body fat. He was fit and strong and just…well, large. His long black hair sat on his skull like a very dirty mop and Sam thought that he could only remember maybe three or four times he had ever seen it neatly combed. Hmmmmm. Senior pictures, prom, when their friend Tim got married…and…nope, that was it. He just wasn’t one for primping…or combing…or expending any effort on his looks in general.
Sam, unlike Nick, was slightly built. He wasn’t really skinny, but he wasn’t beefy either. Virtually everything about Sam was just plain. For someone who was not really “normal,” his look was definitely just that: normal.
He, again contrasting with Nick, normally kept his sandy blonde hair short. It was not for reasons of style that he did this. He simply found that it was more practical. He wore a hard hat at work and didn’t like having to constantly comb his hair. He didn’t have to do much of anything with it when it was really short. He tried to explain that to Nick and suggested he do the same with his hair, but Nick always just shrugged his massive shoulders and said: “Yeah, maybe one of these days.”
Sam felt lucky to have Nick as his friend, essentially his only friend. Sam Sharp was never one to have a large group of friends, and Nick was the one constant in his social life, such as it was.
He still remembered, vaguely, when his father died. Flashes of people he couldn’t remember clearly hugging him and telling him how sorry they were. His memories had a gap after that, taking up the story next with watching the movers packing up the truck with everything he had and then he was watching as his mother was driving, and driving, and driving. All the while he napped, constantly clutching the one thing he had saved from the packing, his little statute of the bald, cross-legged man.
The memories got clearer after that. He started school and met the skinny little boy who became his best friend, his only friend. He felt disconnected and alone, but that soon developed into a solitary personality that thrived without extensive social interaction. His mother, gradually over the years, became more social, but never as active as his brief and occasional flashes of memory from before his father’s death. Close relationships just were not part of life for his tiny family.
The simple fact was that Sam didn’t really see a need to implicitly trust and rely on others. He was content with his solitary activities, with doing the things he loved without all the baggage that comes with letting someone into his private world. He just didn’t fit into any of the groups of “normal” people, so why exert energy to try to do so?
It was ok, though he had always felt as if his life should hold something more for him, something more important than working at a manufacturing plant. One day he might find a place where he fit in, where he felt comfortable. For now, Nick provided a bit of that, but Sam was not keen on relying on anyone too much, not even Nick.
“So,” Nick said around the piece of sandwich he had stuffed firmly into his mouth, “what are the plans for this weekend? What exciting things are we going to be doing? “
“Um…” Sam started.
Nick sighed loudly. “Don’t tell me. You haven’t really thought about it and don’t really have any idea about how to spice up another dull weekend. One of these days, my friend, we definitely need to get a life, and by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’ Well, if you come up with something, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll just go and hang out with Stacy all weekend.”
“I’ll try to figure something out and let you know. Oops, time to get back to it. Talk to you later.” As they went back to their respective work areas, all Sam could think about was repeating his earlier adventure. Ideas were forming in his head and he was dying to try them out.
Throughout his work shift that night, Sam kept thinking about his experience. What was that place he had gone to? How did he get there, really? What was that creature he met and how was he able to communicate with it like that?
He had spent his whole life trying to find answers to all the mysteries and questions he could find, but all of that was nothing compared to this. Was he going insane? He didn’t feel different, but what if he just imagined it all. It was all so overwhelming.
He decided to try to stop thinking about it and just finish up with his work. There would be more than enough time later to figure things out. He was only marginally successful.
His shift finally ended, and he was too anxious to sleep. After saying goodnight to Nick, he headed home to take a shower and think. What should he do? Should he go back to that place, if it was in fact a place at all? Was it just his imagination? He would never be able to sleep until he investigated further.
Sam changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt after his shower and headed to his meditation room. Going past the full length mirror in the hall, he looked at his reflection. His close-cropped sandy blonde hair was just getting long enough to stick out in some places and lie down in others. He would have to start using gel soon to sculpt it up into his sort of faux-hawk hairstyle. Either that or cut it shorter again.
Fair of color, Sam supposed that some would find him good-looking. With a normal nose, not too long and not too flat, and a jaw that was just strong enough to look manly, but not chiseled and movie hero-like, his angular features made him look strong, but not too hard. His penetrating gray eyes were intense but expressive, if others were to be believed. His mouth, which liked to wear a lopsided smile that made him look like he was up to something, had slight lines on the edges, probably because he smiled and laughed so much.
His body was fit, slender but still a bit more muscular than the average guy on the street. People remarked on his perfect posture (mostly his mother), and his coordination was good so he moved with a certain grace and agility. Overall, he liked how he looked. He didn’t think he was anyone’s dream guy, but a few girls over the years had told him he was “very desirable.” Whatever that meant.
Why had he never acted on that, the girls who told him of their interest? He’d had some girlfriends, all briefly, but it never really seemed right or comfortable for the long-term. He just
figured that they would move on when they tired of him, and he was mostly right, though perhaps it was simply a self-fulfilling belief. Anyway, that was neither here nor there. He had some experimenting to do, so he’d better get to it. Winking at himself in the mirror and chuckling at his antics, he headed though the door to his meditation room. Even if it all ended up being some kind of dream, at least he would become more relaxed so he could sleep.
After more than an hour of trying to recreate exactly what he did before he found himself in the other place, Sam started to get frustrated that nothing seemed to be happening. He was sure he would know by the strange feeling he had if he had succeeded in his traveling, but he still went to the front door, opened it, and peeked out two times, only to be disappointed at the sight of his familiar quiet, dark street.
What was he doing wrong? He had done the same thing, from the total relaxation to the controlled breathing, to the specific atom image he pictured. He just wasn’t able to do what he did before. What was he missing?
Did he actually do it before? He started to doubt himself. Maybe he was going insane after all. Head down, he sighed. Just then, he noticed there on the floor, right next to where he was sitting, several long reddish brown hairs. Though he had a cat, the feline spent most of his time outside. He was not allowed in the meditation room at all, and his fur was short and gray in any case.
Sam picked up one of the hairs, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, considering. He jumped to his feet, sped across the hall to his dirty clothes hamper, and pulled out the pants he was wearing earlier. There, on the right leg of the pants, were many more of the reddish-brown hairs. Right where the creature he met had leaned against him and slept.
Aha!, I’m not crazy. I actually did go to that other place. So, not insane. That was good. But he still had a problem. How would he get back there? He returned to his meditation room to think.
Ok, Sam, let’s just go through this problem logically. You did the same things as before, but they didn’t work. What has changed? Can I recreate the earlier procedure exactly?
Thinking it through, Sam finally admitted that he didn’t have enough information to figure out what was going wrong. So then, what I need is more information.
“That’s it!” he cried out loud. “I need to do some research!” He looked around to make sure no one was there to see him talking to himself. That’s what living alone with only a cat for company will do to you.
Happy with his momentary resolution and being relaxed from his hour of meditation, he switched the light off and headed to bed.
Sam slept soundly except for a couple of dreams in which he relived watching the scientific lecture so many years ago, the one given by that unkempt man. It was the one that started him thinking about vibrational energy and how ancient civilizations may have used it. As each of the dreams tapered off and he fell back into blissful sleep, he told himself he would look into things when he got up in the morning.
For the next several weeks, Sam rarely went anywhere except work. He spent most of his time trying to unravel the mystery of the “other place.” It seemed logical to start with internet searches but he found sparse information from keyword phrases such as “ancient civilizations” and “vibrational energy.” Most of the information either referred to the use of musical instruments or vibrational healing. While the several dozen articles, blogs, and posts he read were interesting, it was not what he was looking for. When he tried different variations of related words, the search seemed to spit out the same web sites, just in a different order.
Finally, using the keywords “vibration,” “ancient people,” and “levitation,” several sites came up on the search list, all with the same name: Dr. Walter Wicket. Searching for the doctor’s name, he came across some photographs of him. It was the same man who gave the lecture all those years ago! Smacking his forehead, he begrudged his faulty thinking. He should have started out searching for the man himself rather than the subject.
Interestingly, though there was a fair amount of information on Dr. Wicket, many of the sites also linked a newspaper article indicating that he had suddenly disappeared a little over ten years ago. Foul play was investigated, but no traces of the scientist or of any struggle were ever found.
While reading references to some scientific journals, Sam finally hit the jackpot. Dr. Wicket had published a book! It was called “The Use of Harmonics and Vibration in Early Civilizations.” Though now out of print, a quick search on electronic auction sites turned up a few used copies for sale. Purchasing one, along with expedited shipping, Sam settled back into a normal routine for the eight days it took the book to arrive.
Sam anxiously tore the packaging to obtain his treasure. He clutched the book tightly and went to his favorite chair before opening the cover. It was Saturday morning, so Sam had all weekend to read. He began immediately.
The book was over 500 pages and contrary to the excitement Dr. Wicket showed in his lecture, the information was very dry. The book, in fact, read just like a textbook. Perhaps it was meant to be a textbook, Sam thought, but based on the information he had gathered and on the low printing volumes of the book, he didn’t believe it was probably ever used as such.
Though it was technical, Sam was able to follow enough of the information to get an understanding of the topic. He marveled at the level of research, coherence, and the practical, reasonable assumptions presented. It was simply fascinating. Dr. Wicket held PhDs in physics and archaeology and he seamlessly integrated those fields in his research. As Sam pondered what he was reading, he realized that it was perhaps the most important thing he had ever read.
In the period of time he spent waiting for the book to arrive, Sam had found some old videos of Dr. Wicket’s lectures on the internet. As he read, he replayed the videos in his mind.
“Everything in the universe is dependent on vibration. Whereas the general population is familiar with the classical atomic structure, with the nucleus containing protons and neutrons and with the electrons whizzing around the nucleus like a planet orbiting the sun, contemporary atomic theory is more complex,” Dr. Wicket explained in one of the videos.
“In fact, electrons are not necessarily particles, but at times are what we refer to as a “standing wave.” They do not orbit like planets around the sun. The electrons are sometimes pure energy, pure vibration, while at other times they acted like a particle, like matter. In essence, vibrational energy is the core of all things.”
The doctor, as shaggy and stooped as Sam remembered him, knocked firmly on the laboratory tabletop. “All things, being made of atoms, are always vibrating at certain stable frequencies. Though they seem solid, they are actually made of billions of very tiny pieces that are shaking and moving, vibrating, at all times.”
“‘So what?’ you may ask. Well, this is important for many reasons. One effect of this phenomenon is that being energetic, all things can be used as a source of energy. Though that desktop looks solid, when exposed to conditions that would cause it to burn, it releases its energy as heat and light. So, too, all the inherent energy in other things can be released or manipulated. And that’s not even addressing such things as nuclear power.”
Looking at the audience, making eye contact with one person and then another, finally resting his gaze on the camera itself, Dr. Wicket continued, “Some of the ancients could manipulate the vibration of items, actually causing parts of them to phase out of existence, making the object lighter and easier to move. Once it was where they wanted it to be, the ancient vibrational energy masters would simply manipulate its vibration, restoring the object to its original form and weight.
“For all we know, there could be whole dimensions occupying the same space as our current one, but vibrating at a different rate. If that was the case, causing something—or someone?—to vibrate at the correct frequency could move it from our dimension to another one. In effect, the object, or part of it, would travel to the other dimension, the other world.”
Reading carefully, caught up on what he was learning, Sam hardly moved for 30 hours. He only got up every few hours to snack, use the bathroom, and stretch his legs. When he was done, he had read the textbook from cover to cover and felt like things were finally making sense. He couldn’t wait to experiment a bit more. After a well-deserved rest, he reminded himself. He went straight to bed and slept for a solid twelve hours.
Over the weeks following his reading, Sam took every opportunity he could to experiment with his original procedure. He modified little things, just one thing each time. He kept a log of what he did, and carried out his actions as a formal scientific experiment. By the end of the month, he still had not been able to duplicate his original journey. He began to despair, thinking that maybe he would never do so.
3
It was finally Friday. The early spring weather was cool and Sam was so tired from his experimentation over the last several weeks, he felt ready to drop. It was almost midnight and he was finished with work for the week. Instead of engaging in his habit of meditating before he went to bed to relax himself for sleep, he took a shower and fell into bed.
Sam woke suddenly from a deep sleep. He had been dreaming he was driving a race car and he had hit the wall, creating a crash as loud as an explosion. The jolt felt like he had actually hit that wall, not just dreamed it. His head swiveled back and forth, looking for the source of the sound, blinking his eyes rapidly trying to focus. When lightning flashed outside his window, he realized that it was a thunderstorm and sank into his bed, relieved. Until the next peal of thunder shook his body and made him jump because of its suddenness.
Vibrations: Harmonic Magic Book 1 Page 3