Authors: John Strauchs
“You are not leaving with that camera,” said Jared again. He started for the man.
“OK. OK. Here!” said the fisherman.
It was digital.
Jared brought up the last few photos from the camera’s memory.
Just as he thought, there were photos of both of them. Very few people, if any, had photos of Jared as a man. More importantly to Jared, most of the shots were extreme closeups of Jenny.
They were very explicit photographs. Jared erased all of the photos.
The
pretender just stood there watching.
“I’m really sorry about that fella. You can’t blame a guy for trying. She is really
beautiful, but you know that of course,” he said.
Jared tossed the camera back to him.
“You’ve got five minutes to get off my island.
After that you’ll learn how I feel
about what you just did,” said Jared.
The man ran. He ran as fast as he could. Jared would have hurt him for what he
did, but he didn’t want to do it in front of Jenny. There would be another time.
Jared was upset. Had he been an assassin, like the bunch that tracked him down at
Old Orchard Beach, he and Jenny might be dead. Jenny would have been killed. His
senses had failed him.
He let down his guard.
He stopped analyzing and it could have
cost Jenny her life. This can never happen again. He would not allow it.
“Jared, was that man taking pictures of me?” asked Jenny.
“Yes, but I took care of that. There are no pictures now,” he said.
“I told you I shouldn’t be dressed like this outdoors. I TOLD YOU,” she said.
“You were right. I was wrong. I am so sorry Jenny. It will never happen again,”
said Jared.
They picked up their towels and walked back to the house. They were both very
disturbed by what had just happened.
Jared made vows to himself in his mind. It will
never happen again. It was a promise he might not be able to keep…and he knew that.
Tugging on a pull cord tied to a nail, Jenny was gently swaying in the large white
cotton hammock inside the screened in porch.
Her head was nestled in a fluffy pillow.
This was her favorite room. She had no idea that a hammock could be so soft and comfortable.
It had been no more than thirty minutes since they finished dinner and cleaned
up the kitchen.
It was another wonderful meal. Jared did most of the cooking, as usual.
He could be a chef in any restaurant in Boston. She was slowly nodding off.
Dusk was
morphing into night.
The loons were calling to one another in the distance, gathering
their families for the night. Jenny wanted a family too. She daydreamed what it might be
like. She wanted a baby.
A gentle scented breeze flowed through the porch. It was a warm evening. Jared‘s
lessons were paying off. She could hear the leaves of the plants caress one another.
Somewhere close a female mosquito was trying to get through the screen.
Only the females bite. The mosquito sensed Jenny’s breathe. It was all about the chemistry, as Jared
would say. A few moths had somehow gotten into the veranda.
She thought she could hear the racing wing beats of the moth.
night on Eagle’s Head. She couldn’t be happier.
“Hey, try this,” said Jared. He was excited.
She blinked her eyes open.
“What?” The enchantment of the moment was broken.
Jenny closed her eyes.
It was the opus of the
Jared had pulled one of the large white wicker plantation chairs close to the hammock. He held a small cardboard shoe box in front of her. A large slot was cut into one
end. The lid was taped down.
“Put your hand inside.”
She gave him a ‘no way man’ look.
“What’s in there?”
“I want to show you something.
I want to show you that you can do things you
didn’t know you could do,” said Jared.
She sat up and swung her legs to the floor. It was still an awkward position.
“Why do I have to do this? It was so peaceful. What is this?”
“You’ll see. Put your hand in here.”
“OK! OK!”
She slowly put her hand through the slot in the box.
“It feels like a
piece of cloth. What am I doing?”
“You found the cloth. Good! Now put the tips of your fingers just above the cloth
so you are barely touching it.”
“Yea, now what?” asked Jenny.
“Put your hand in deeper and find a second cloth. They’re both glued to the cardboard.”
“What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Start with not asking questions. Just listen to the instructions.”
“
That was bossy
,” thought Jenny. She turned her head away from Jared.
“Float your finger tips over one cloth and then the other. Concentrate! Tell me if
one feels cooler than the other.”
“Is this supposed to be a magic trick?”
Jared rolled his eyes. He was losing patience. This was intended to be interesting
and teach her something important. It was also supposed to be fun. He ignored her question. He didn’t think he was being bossy but maybe he was being insensitive. He knew
he could be like that without realizing he was.
“Jenny, I just want to show you that you have abilities you don’t know you have.
Can you close your eyes and try it. Please? You’ll like this. I promise you will.”
“OK.”
She closed her eyes.
Her brow furled as she concentrated.
She held her
breath for a few seconds.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do?”
“Focus on your finger tips.
They are incredibly sensitive but most people never
tap into the extra feeling everyone has.
Move your fingers lightly above each cloth.
Go
back and forth between them. See if one is different somehow from the other.”
“Gosh, Jared. It just feels like cloth.”
“FOCUS! FOCUS!”
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M FEELING FOR, said Jenny.
“Keep your eyes closed and stop talking,” said Jared, softly this time.
“
More orders
,” thought Jenny.
“Just think about your finger tips.
Feel the blood flowing.
Focus and you will
feel the tips of your fingers begin to feel just a little bit of pressure. Focus.”
Minutes passed. Jenny kept her eyes closed. As her concentration went deeper, it
was easy to see that her body was relaxing. Her head rolled back on her shoulders. The
position was awkward but she adjusted. Then came the epiphany.
“I do feel something. I think one of the cloths is warmer.
I’m just not sure.” She
kept her eyes closed.
“Don’t wait until you are sure. You’ll never be sure. The secret in this kind of
sensory skill is to trust in what you feel…not what you think.
This is just one of many
kinds of generally unnoticed sensory abilities most people could develop but they ignore
what they feel because they’re unsure. Almost all people recognize instinct, but then they
distrust it because they can never be certain about what they are feeling…because they
think about it. It is all about trusting yourself and learning to be OK about not being sure.
Marie walked in. Her hands were on her hips.
“Mr. Jared.
What you expect me do with pile of shoes in the hall?
I see you
found new use for boxes,” said Marie.
“Go away Marie.
We’re doing something.
Kick the shoes in the closet for all I
care.” Jared was getting pissed.
“Fine! Don’t ask Marie where your shoes are.” She pivoted and stormed out.
“Jenny, close your eyes again.
Which cloth is warmer?
Just tell me what you
feel. Don’t think about it.”
“The second one!”
Jared pulled the top off the shoe box, ripping the tape. The first cloth was blue.
The deepest cloth was cardinal red.
“Look!”
“It’s red. Wow! I heard that red is a hotter color.
I never realized that could be
literally true.” She was getting excited about this. This was interesting after all.
Jared was pleased.
His pupil was learning.
He grabbed a second box from the
floor.
“Do it again.”
Jenny closed her eyes. Her lips tightened. She held her breath.
“The second one.”
“Perfect,” said Jared.
He ripped the top off.
The second one was red.
He
grabbed a new box.
“Again,” said Jared.
“It is still the second one.”
Jared was beaming.
He was sure she would have assumed that the colors would
be switched, but she still got it right.
“One more time.” He gave her the fourth box.
“The first.” She peaked as Jared removed the cover. “Wow. It is red again.”
“You’re getting it Jenny. You are really getting it.”
Jenny was immensely proud that she did something that actually impressed him.
He was very difficult to impress.
“Come on. Let me try again.”
“You got four out of four. You got it. You can get better and better at this if you
practice. You can identify all of the colors if you keep working at it but the really important thing to learn is to trust in what you feel. Thought just gets in the way. Knowledge is
the enemy of faith.”
“I think I understand that. I really do,” said Jenny.
“
Knowledge is the enemy of faith?”
she repeated in her mind.
She wondered if
this was another veiled dig at religion.
She didn’t want to argue with Jared again, and
certainly not about religion.
Jared was lecturing again.
She made a point of showing interest but being
schooled…being treated like a schoolgirl…was beginning to bother her.
“Intelligence eventually became much more important to hunting and survival for
primordial man than the sense of smell. Our ancestors with a very poor sense of smell
were able to procreate and survive as well as those with a keen sense of smell but the
one’s with higher intelligence really prospered.
In time senses deteriorated over thousands of generations,” he said.
“I never thought of it that way,” said Jenny.
“I’m certain that there have been times when you felt that someone was watching
you…and someone was. That is a remnant of those ancient lost skills.”
“Yes, I get it.”
“Most people…Hell…all people…know what is possible and what is not only
because they are taught what is possible.
Sometimes what they’re taught is wrong.
People don’t test the teachings. People have lost the ability to be instinctive.
Let’s assume that every person has the ability to wiggle his ears. If one person sees someone else
who can wiggle his ears, he might try to wiggle his ears for a while, but if he can’t seem
to do it, he gives up. He has taught himself what he can’t do. He thinks he can’t, so he
can’t. Mind you, I am not saying that thinking isn’t very important, but like all things, it
has its place and feeling has its place.
Everyone has the ability to wiggle their ears.”
Wiggling your ears is learned from feeling, not from thought,” said Jared.
“It is kind of confusing. It sounds contradictory. Isn’t feeling just a kind of thinking?” asked Jenny.
“Not at all.
Each occurs in a different part of the brain.
Each is a different
process…differeent chemicals.
Your finger tips can feel something that is rough.
Your
finger can also punch the keys on a telephone to dial a number.
You aren’t concerned
about how the button feels. Same finger. Different function.”
“I don’t know what that means. Honestly!
When I felt the red cloth, it felt warmer. Wasn’t I thinking about that?”
“No.
If you thought about it, you would have realized that both cloths were the
same temperature so how could one feel warmer. You would have talked yourself out of
sensing that one really did feel warmer. Your finger tip sensed the color…not heat.”
“You lost me.
Wiggling ears?
Sensing color? This is beginning to sound very
philosophical.”
“Thinking you know what is possible and what isn’t is the very thing that stands
in the way of realizing your potential.”
Jenny wasn’t getting this. At first it seemed to make sense, but now he made it all
confusing.
Jared was getting frustrated.
It was time to let her breathe.
He was suffocating
her.
Jared gently rolled out of bed.
He was up every morning at exactly 06:30.
The
Temperpedic bed was one of the best things he ever owned that he hadn’t invented himself. A good night’s sleep eased his torment.
The windows didn’t have opaque curtains but they were rarely closed anyway.
The sizzling morning sun beamed through the eastern windows.
The room glowed with
sunlight and fell on a sleeping Jenny. He had convinced her to wear eye shades as he did.
The human body is programmed to wake with the rising sun. The eye shades didn’t help
Jared that much, but they worked great for Jenny.
He sat on the maple rocking chair at the foot of the bed and watched her sleep.
She was on her stomach with her left arm curled under her pillow. She hugged a second
pillow with her right arm. Her legs were pulled up. A splay of blond hair fell across her
face and caught the sun. The white cotton sheet was snarled around her.
Jared knew who he was. He knew he was a quantum leap in human evolution and
yet he also knew that he still had the same basic programming that all humankind had.
His sexual desire for Jenny was written in chemical codes in his brain.
Knowing that
changed nothing. The feeling was always there. Knowing why it was there didn’t relieve
it.
Jared loved his parents so much that he felt a physical ache in his heart when he
thought about them—which was often. He never felt that way about anyone else—until
he met Jenny.
He understood the universe but he couldn’t grasp what love was.
It was
certainly genetic programming in his DNA, but…a new input arrived in his brain. Jenny
was dreaming about her grandmother, Mormor.
Jared sat quietly and rocked as he
watched Jenny sleep. He watched her dreams.
Two strong feminine hands pulled her from the water.
She was
nine years old. Her grandmother stood her up in front of the fireplace. She was naked but wrapped in a very large, thick cotton towel.
The knitted rug beneath her feet had been warmed by the fire. Her
grandmother was drying her hair with another towel.
Mormor was
humming a Swedish nursery song.
She hugged Jenny and whispered
in her ear.
“You are such a good girl.”
“I love you Mormor,” said Jenny.
“Do not worry my little one.
Do not worry.
God takes special
Little Jenny glanced at the large bay window in their living
room. The sun was coming up. It was early morning. The loons were
calling her.