The Home Front (7 page)

Authors: Margaret Vandenburg

Something about this particular kid spoke to Todd. Brown didn’t remind him of himself. Todd was a model of military precision and discipline. Brown couldn’t even keep his shirt tucked in. But as clueless as he was when he showed up at Creech, he emerged as the one lieutenant with a hint of the right stuff. In another era, combat missions would have scared the shit out of him. He would have emerged a better man. This new breed of warrior was at a distinct disadvantage. There was virtually no way to instill fear into the exercise of dragging a mouse across a virtual battlefield. Todd knew he was taking a chance, letting Brown into the inner sanctum of his death-defying rituals. There’d be hell to pay if the colonel found out a commissioned officer was climbing without ropes. The air force had invested too much money in his training to play games with death. But they’d left him no choice. The absence of clear and present danger was jeopardizing the integrity of his men. Unless you put skin in the game it was just a game.

Brown had done a little rock climbing growing up near the Shawangunk range in upstate New York. He had preferred getting drunk and chasing tail. But there were several early adolescent years when he and his buddies had to settle for more wholesome pursuits. He was long and lanky and considerably more powerful than Todd. What he lacked in finesse he made up for in brute strength. The first few times out, they used ropes. Todd gave him a few pointers, surreptitiously gauging his willingness to take risks. Brown was a quick study. His technique improved with every climb, magnifying his natural athleticism. He seemed to scale cliffs in a single bound. Todd was more compact and deliberate. It took him two or three moves to accomplish what Brown did in one. Risk was his middle name.

The first time Todd climbed freestyle, Brown just unfastened his gear and started up after him. Zero fanfare. They looked like David and Goliath ascending an almost sheer rock face, becoming one with it. When they reached the top and stood looking over the precipice, Todd debated breaking their pact of silence. He hesitated to put what they were doing into words for fear of killing it. But he didn’t want Brown to think they were just being daredevils for the macho thrill of it all. Quite the opposite. If humility wasn’t what they were after, it was something close to it. Fighter pilots couldn’t afford to be flat out humbled by death. But they needed to have a healthy respect for it, to make sure they were meting it out honorably, not randomly, only when duty demanded the ultimate sacrifice.

“You know why we’re doing this, right?”

“Climbing?”

“Without ropes.”

“It’s more exciting.”

“It’s more dangerous.”

“Bring it on.”

Had Brown been a soldier in the field this would have been a classic response. Valor in the face of an imminent enemy threat. But they were thousands of miles away from the nearest combat zone. Something had been lost in translation.

“Bring what on?” Todd asked.

“Danger.”

“Danger for the sake of danger?”

“Whatever.”

Todd kicked a stone over the cliff. They could barely hear the sound of its impact far below.

“What would you say if I asked you if flying drones is dangerous?”

“I would have said no until a few weeks ago.”

“Then what happened?”

“You know what happened.”

“All of a sudden it was real, right? Not just another frigging video game.”

Brown remained silent for a long time. Vultures were circling at eye level, surveying the deep canyon.

“I guess I learned that the hard way.”

“That’s why we’re here. To keep it real.”

A flock of grackles dive-bombed the vultures. Whether they did it to defend their territory, or just for sport, was impossible to determine.

* * *

Rose was surfing the net, trying to track down additional treatment options for Max, when she stumbled across the Source. She googled the neurological and environmental causes of autism for the millionth time, hoping to discover something new. The one thing she learned from Dr. Dillard was that diagnosing the root cause of a medical problem was the first step toward discovering its cure. Then, out of the blue, the Internet manifested testimonials describing autism as a source of enlightenment. At first she thought she had clicked the wrong link. Then she knew that it was meant to be.

I was devastated when my son was diagnosed with autism. It felt like a death sentence. My husband had to take a second job to cover treatment expenses, which put a terrible strain on our marriage. We tried everything, to no avail. Our little boy Tony seemed lost to us, locked in his own alien world. Then I found the Source. The power of positive thinking changed everything instantaneously and forever! I came to understand that Tony is differently abled, not disabled. He is perfect and complete in his own special ways. Since that fateful day, Tony has become a source of inspiration. I call him my little prophet. His autism is a blessing in disguise, now that I’ve learned to listen with more than just my ears.

Kitty Gurnsey
Little Rock, Arkansas

For a split second, even Rose thought there was something fishy about Kitty’s conversion experience. She knew what Todd would say. The power of positive thinking sounded an awful lot like wishful thinking. Then she remembered all the times Max heard and saw things she couldn’t hear and see. He had been diagnosed with hypersensitivity, as though the acuity of his five senses were a problem rather than a gift. At times his otherworldly expressions seemed visionary. Rose was reminded of Hans Asperger’s observation that a dash of autism is an essential aspect of genius. What if Mozart and Wittgenstein had been pathologized rather than patronized?

Rose clicked on the link, and the Source changed everything instantaneously and forever, just like Kitty Gurnsey said it would. Its home page was dazzling. Ancient origins notwithstanding, enlightenment was surprisingly user-friendly in the digital age. A soaring orchestral score serenaded a sublime seascape with waves carrying words of wisdom on their crests. As each successive wave broke on the shoreline, the words sank into the sand, making way for new revelations.

The source of all knowledge and power is within, waiting to be summoned at will.

The power of thought is limitless.

Everyone is in complete control of everything.

An Introductory Guide to All Knowledge and Power started scrolling across the screen, assuring Rose that there were no accidents in the cosmos. At the same time, nothing was predetermined. Rose herself had manifested the answer to all of her questions. She was exactly where she was meant to be, at the Source of the Universe.

Before she even had a chance to finish reading, a voice intervened. The Introductory Guide began to fade, ultimately vanishing altogether. The voice introduced itself as Tashi, one in an eternal series of messengers translating what imposters called the Secret, as though power and prosperity were somehow elusive rather than omnipresent.

Think of me not as your guide but as a fellow sojourner on the path to truth.

Close your eyes and listen to the voice within
:
The Source
.

Rose closed her eyes. A chorus of panpipes floated over the voice. Their hollow timbre amplified the rich fullness of Tashi’s intonation of the Seven Principles of the Universe.

Thoughts are the most powerful force in the universe, the author of everything.