by Dermot Davis
With so many questions flooding her head, Fiona felt so tired that she wanted to immediately go to sleep. Gazing wildly around, as she stood up from the throne-like chair, an object in the waste basket caught her attention. As she walked closer to get a better look, she felt an increasing sense of dread.
As she began to recognize Andrew's baseball cap, a shocking pain exploded into her brain. Feeling like her head had just been stabbed with an ice pick, she struggled to manage her mental and physical pain and retrieved the hat from the trash. The memory of that night: that evening when she couldn’t sleep and she had stormed into that very room, shot into her mind’s eye.
The implications of finding Andrew’s baseball cap in her father’s ritual den made her insides churn. Her heart dropped and her stomach suddenly felt so nauseous that it could not be dissuaded from evacuating its contents. With absolute certainty, she was going to throw up. Running from the room, through the kitchen and out the back door of the house, Fiona managed to make it outside. As her insides erupted and emptied what little food was present, she felt an anger rise up within her.
Wiping her hands in her dress, she took out her phone to call Andrew. Realizing that Andrew could not be reached, she paused to think. He had to call her at some stage, she thought. Hoping from the bottom of her heart that he was still free and not in jail, she decided to change her outgoing voice mail greeting:
“I miss you and I need you,” she began, quickly composing in her head a message that only he would understand. “This is very important. Do not do what I advised you to do; do not go to the big house and actually, stay away from the little house, as well. We should totally do Plan A,” she said and paused, feeling like she wasn’t doing a great job. With the shakiest voice ever, she began to sing. “We should hit the road, Jack, don’t you come home no more, no more.”
Hanging up on her greeting, she was given the option to change it. Unable to think of anything better, she left it. Couldn’t make it any clearer than that, she said to herself and reentered the house.
Chapter 7
Andrew woke up on Dowling’s sofa with a sore neck. In the morning light he looked around the ramshackle room. It was cluttered with books, curios and all kinds of lab equipment.
“He’s awake,” Dowling said as he stood in the kitchen doorway. “Want some coffee?”
“Love some,” Andrew replied as he stepped on a figurine of a Goddess or something that was lying on the floor. “Is this your house or an upscale thrift store?” he asked as he picked up the statue and moved it out of harm’s way.
“You found my statue of Isis,” Dowling said, sounding pleased. “That’s quite a propitious omen.”
“What’s with all this ancient Egypt worship?” Andrew asked as he noticed more and more Egyptian statues and artwork. “Fiona’s dad has tons of this stuff in his house.”
“That’s where it all started, I guess,” Dowling answered, returning to the kitchen.
“That’s where what all started?” Andrew asked as he followed him into the kitchen.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Dowling asked, pouring some coffee. “I’ve been up a while. You want some eggs?”
“Sure,” Andrew answered. “I’ll eat pretty much anything.”
“Have you talked to your girl yet?” Dowling asked as he took out some eggs from the fridge.
“Not yet, no,” Andrew answered as he added some milk to his coffee.
“Oh, that’s right, you don’t have a phone. Feel free to use mine. You can use any room for privacy.”
“I appreciate that but…” Andrew answered and hesitated.
“You guys had a falling out?” Dowling asked.
“No, nothing like that. It’s gonna sound pretty lame but I don’t know her number off by heart. I always just pressed her avatar on my phone, you know? Never actually dialed her number.”
“Ah, that’s a generational thing; the bane of new technology. Bet you use a calculator for multiplying six times seven,” Dowling said.
“I guess,” Andrew answered uncertainly. “Why six times seven?”
“Just an example. When I was in school we learned our multiplication tables by rote. Six times seven is forty-two, six times eight is forty-eight and so on,” Dowling sang.
“Whatever,” Andrew said, not understanding.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Dowling asked as he scrambled some eggs in a pan. “No pressure. Stay here as long as you like.”
“I should go back before it gets too serious, right? If I’m going to end up back there, sooner is better than later, as far as getting a longer sentence is concerned, would you say?”
“I would think so, yes,” Dowling answered. “I can drive you there, if you wish.”
“That would be good, thanks,” Andrew answered, cringing at the thought of going back. “Hey, I want to thank you for all of this,” he said as Dowling served up his breakfast. “You’ve been nothing but helpful and I appreciate that.”
“Not a problem,” Dowling answered. “It’s not like I have a paying job anymore. Eat up.”
“What are you going to do now?” Andrew asked. “Is there something else you can do?”
“Oh, I’m not too worried; I’ll get by. Could always get a teaching job in a community college or something,” Dowling said as he sat at the table. “What makes me unhappy is losing the funding. I really wanted to continue my research.”
“What were you working on?”
“Believe it or not I was working on the very thing you brought up: precognition.”
“Seriously?” Andrew asked.
“I tried not to smile when you said it. Seriously,” Dowling said, smiling.
“That’s pretty freaky, huh?”
“Not really,” Dowling answered to Andrew’s surprise. “When you’ve been working in the psychic field as long as I have, you get used to synchronicities.”
“What are they?”
“Synchronicities? Meaningful coincidences or mutual incidences that share an acausal relationship, you know?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, so, no, I don’t know,” Andrew confessed.
“I thought you said you had super powers?” Dowling teased.
“I may have exaggerated a little to get your attention.”
“If you’ve got time we can test you.”
“You can test for stuff like that?” Andrew asked. “You mean with those ESP cards? I don’t think so.”
“There are more scientific ways to test a person’s brain activity. Finish your breakfast and we’ll hook you up.”
“Hook me up?” Andrew asked, laughing to himself. “Is that a technical term or am I going to get psychically lucky?”
After breakfast, Dowling took Andrew to his office and sat him before a computer screen. “Is this switched on?” Andrew asked, noticing that the screen had no image but didn’t look entirely dark, either.
“It’s on, alright,” Dowling replied as he placed a brainwave monitoring headset on his head. “Your thoughts will activate it.”
“I turn it on with my mind?” Andrew asked.
“In front of you is a blank screen,” Dowling explained as he sat down. “Hidden from view are four very different pictures: a portrait of a woman, a city, a forest and a view of outer space. I want you to choose one of those images and, from your thoughts alone, bring it up on screen.”
As if computing the difficulty of the task, Andrew looked from Dowling to the computer screen. "You mean, like, think about outer space and the picture comes up?"
“It’s not as difficult as it sounds, believe me,” Dowling said. “The main thing is you play with it, have fun with it. It’s not a test you can fail; you’re not going to be graded or anything. Look at the screen and think of a picture.”
“But I don’t know what the actual picture looks like,” Andrew said.
“That doesn’t matter. You’ll see,” Dowling said encouragingly as he looked at the screen i
n expectation.
Andrew looked at the screen and squinted his eyes slightly, as if straining to make an image appear.
“You’ll find that it works better the more relaxed you are. Just to be clear, you’re not making an image appear from your mind directly to the screen. You’re choosing an image that already exists,” Dowling explained.
“Cool,” Andrew said, shrugging his shoulders to relax his body. As he relaxed even more the screen came alive. A series of colorful pixilated images that looked more abstract shapes than recognizable pictures. “Wow,” Andrew exclaimed excitedly. “Something’s happening.”
“You’re doing terrific,” Dowling encouraged. “Focus on only one of those images.”
“Wow, see that?” Andrew said excitedly. “I could see buildings, did you?”
“Yes, you’re doing fantastic,” Dowling said. “You’re thinking of the city, I assume?”
“Yeah,” Andrew answered, his eyes glued to the screen, watching every movement. “There, that’s definitely a skyline!”
“You’re a natural,” Dowling encouraged. “The more you do it, the more you learn how best to focus your mind to see more of the image.”
“This is fantastic,” Andrew said as parts of a cityscape became more and more recognizable. “It looks like London or someplace European, right? Is that Big Ben and the houses of parliament? I used to have a jigsaw like that when I was a kid.”
“It is the city of London,” Dowling agreed. “You’re the best I’ve ever tested.”
“Really?” Andrew asked looking pleased but still not moving his head from the task at hand. “Wow, I’ve almost gotten the entire picture up. It’s hard to keep it all up at once, especially away from the center, in the corners.”
“Switch images,” Dowling suggested. “See if you can bring up one of the other pictures.”
“Okay,” Andrew said, finally looking away from the screen to shake his body to relax it and start over. As he broke his concentration, the screen went dark again. “I’ll try the woman’s face,” he said, concentrating again, looking as focused as a chess player.
Images immediately began appearing on the blank screen; some more distinct than others. “I think it’s getting easier,” Andrew said.
“Yes,” Dowling agreed. “It gets easier with practice.”
“There’s her eyes!” Andrew said proudly. “Wow, this is so cool!”
The more that Andrew focused his full attention on the assignment, the more successful and more encouraged he became. Switching from image to image, he was soon able to pull up an identifiable picture from each of the four choices. “So, how does the computer know what picture I’m thinking of, in my head?” he then asked, turning to face Dowling. “Does it pick up signals from my brain through the headset? What?”
“No,” Dowling answered, reaching down to pick up and then hold up the connection at the end of the headset lead. “This isn’t even plugged in to anything,” he said.
“So, why am I wearing it?” Andrew asked, puzzled.
“I had you wear it because I didn’t want the part of your brain that says the task is stupid or impossible to overrule the part of your brain that says that anything is possible,” Dowling answered, removing the headset from Andrew’s head. “If you believed that it was impossible for your thoughts to have any effect on the computer screen, then nothing would have shown up. In this experiment, believing is seeing and not the other way around.”
“We say seeing is believing… but this is believing is seeing,” Andrew said, as if thinking out loud.
“Correct.”
“So, how did the computer know what I was believing or thinking? I don’t get it?” Andrew asked.
“I had you demonstrate to yourself what the prior, most fundamental understanding in this field of inquiry is," Dowling said, putting away the headset.
"The most fundamental inquiry?" Andrew asked. "What's that?"
"That thoughts have power," Dowling answered. "Once you understand that, well, you understand everything. It explains how physics works, cause and effect, the nature of reality… like I say, pretty much everything.”
“Wow,” Andrew said, terribly excited, his mind racing but still not fully understanding. “Your work is amazing! How can they close you down? This is mind-blowing stuff!”
“Thanks but this is not my work,” Dowling answered. “This is a program I bought on the internet. Thought control experiments are not new and the current research is vastly more advanced than this. Air force pilots are being trained to fly planes with their minds, for instance.”
“Wow, what do they do? Think of Helsinki and the plane flies them there?” Andrew joked.
“Not quite that advanced but who knows?” Dowling said and smiled. “Just so you know,” he then added, “when you said you had super powers? You pretty much do.”
“How come?” Andrew asked.
“Of all the students I’ve had operate the same test, very few can produce images wearing the headset,” Dowling said.
“Sweet,” Andrew said, feeling proud of himself.
“No one has been able to produce any images while not wearing the headset. Until now. That, my friend is a precious gift. Pretty astounding, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, I,” Andrew said, feeling almost embarrassed, “I really don’t know what that all means. Not something I can put on my resume, I don’t think.”
“Probably not but, trust me, whatever you’ve got going on up there… it’s so rare I’ve never seen it before and I’ve seen lots, you know?” Dowling said, playfully ruffling Andrew’s hair. “You want that ride back to the slammer?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Andrew answered sourly. “Actually what I would most love to do is see Fiona. If I can’t get her on the phone, I’d really like to go see her.”
“That’s understandable,” Dowling said, thinking to himself of the logistics of how he could fit it into his day. “Where does she live?”
“Pacific Palisades,” Andrew said defensively. “If you can’t do it, I so understand,” he then said, seeing the pain-like expression on Dowling’s face.
“That’s a good ways north,” he said, looking apologetic. “With traffic and everything…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Andrew said, getting up from the chair. “It’s a dumb idea anyway. I couldn’t just show up and have her father see me. I’d so totally get her into trouble. Even if he’s not there, we’d probably have like five minutes together and I’d have to leave. It’s so not worth it. I’ll go to the bathroom real quick and then we can go.”
As Dowling drove Andrew back to the prison he wasn't sure how he could cheer up the young lad. Being unsure of Andrew’s mental state, he allowed him some space and quiet instead. It was an awkward silence. The closer that they drove to their destination, the more that Andrew squirmed about in his seat.
Looking out the passenger door window, Andrew watched people going about their business and envied them their freedom. Longing to be free, to spend all the time with Fiona that she could stand, was his only wish. The thought of not being able to see her, nor go on normal dates with her to the cinema or to a café or restaurant, made him feel sick to his stomach. Even though he knew that she was right to advise him to go back, he still secretly hoped that she would have changed her mind.
What if she did change her mind, he then wondered. Since he hadn’t spoken to her since he left the guest house the day before, there was plenty of time in between for her to consider other possibilities. What if she did want to go on the road together, after all, and how awful would it be for him to only find out about it when he was back behind bars?
“Maybe I could use your phone, after all,” Andrew said as he turned to Dowling. “Maybe I can look her number up on the social media sites or whatever.”
“Knock yourself out,” Dowling said as he handed him his smart phone. “Maybe her number is in the regular white pages? Worth a try, huh?”
“I guess,” Andr
ew answered, unsure what exactly Dowling was referring to.
Doing a general search for her name and location brought up very little except person-finding sites that requested payment. A quick search through the social media sites unearthed nothing useful except an email address and twitter handle. “I’ll send her an email and if she gets back to me with a phone number in the next five minutes or so, I can at least talk to her real quick, if that’s okay?” Andrew asked.
“Sounds good,” Dowling said as he gave Andrew an encouraging sign.
“You might want to park a block away?" Andrew suggested. "In case they see you and assume that you’re assisting me in some way, which you are, of course but you know what I mean,” Andrew said awkwardly. “I don’t want you to get into any trouble over this.”
“I appreciate that,” Dowling said, pulling over to the curb. “How about here?”
“Perfect,” Andrew said, checking his email inbox once more.
“Anything?” Dowling asked.
“Not so far. I’ll give it five minutes?” he asked.
“Sure. If we don’t get moved on in the meantime,” Dowling answered, reading the parking sign. “This whole block is an orange loading zone it looks like. Don’t worry about being recognized,” he then said, noticing Andrew’s nervousness. “It’s not like the cops have your picture plastered on every billboard across town. This is not the movies; you’re small fry in the larger scheme of things.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably have to convince them to take me back,” Andrew joked.
“Well, you know where to find me,” Dowling said. “My first name is Gus and I’m pretty easy to find on the web.”
“I appreciate all your help, Gus,” Andrew said, extending his hand for a handshake. “I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”