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Monday, May 2, 2011

"Light" Chapter 8: Invitations

Click here for a full list of chapters for Marcus T Anthony's novel "Light."

As Geoff led us through the meditation, I just couldn’t seem to get the image of Jane out of my mind. What was worse was that the down feeling wouldn’t go away. I was feeling genuinely sad for her. Telling myself that I didn’t even know the girl didn’t seem to work in making it go away. As I sat there eyes closed and supposedly freeing my mind of thought, I decided that I would approach Jane at the end of the session.

After Geoff wound things down and we all got up to leave, I saw that Jane was speaking to Michael, the red headed chap with the friendly smile. I waited for the right moment, then butted in.

“Hi, Jane”, I said. It was the first time I had spoken to her, so I felt a bit awkward. I was hoping like hell she didn’t think I was asking her for a date or something. I mean, she was barely half my size, not even making it to my shoulder. “It was interesting what you said about hearing and seeing things in your mind. The same thing has been happening to me when I meditate.”

“Really!” her large grey eyes lit up as she smiled. “I’m glad I’m not the only crazy one around here!” She giggled, putting her hand to her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s OK’”, I reassured her. “We’re both crazy. We’ll have a great time together in the nut house, I’m sure.”

Jane laughed. That girls might find me funny was a new concept for me. I thought it was only sexist male computer geeks who got my sense of humour. It was then that out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Paul. He was talking with Amanda. Or should I say, chatting her up. She was giggling like a little girl as he stood just a little too close to her. There was a sudden unwanted rise in my blood pressure. It felt uncomfortably like jealousy. I fought back the feeling. After all, I had only spoken to the girl once. She probably didn’t even like me.

It was Michael who brought my attention back to the conversation at hand. “No, neither of you is crazy. Not unless I’m crazy as well.”

“You too, huh?” I said dumbly.

“Well, you could say that…. But not exactly the same way.” Michael stopped for a moment, looking at me intently, then to Jane, as if searching for something in the back of his mind. “Hmm, well, there is someone I know who might be able to help you.” He looked left and right, as if making sure nobody was listening. “But I can’t give any promises. It’s not in my hands.”

Jane looked at him, giggling, slightly nervous. She beat me to the question. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

“I know I’m being a bit vague. But I can’t be too specific at this point. Let’s just say that if you want to understand more about the kinds of things you are experiencing, there are people out there who know more about it than these academic university types like Doctor Masters.”

“And here I was thinking he was Jesus Christ,” I said dryly.

“They don’t really know about this stuff,” Michael said, his voice dropping and his care-free demeanor suddenly becoming serious. It was then that I could see the small lines around his eyes. He was a little older than most students, perhaps mid to late twenties. His voice had dropped to a whisper. “To them it’s all in the head. They read about it and do stuff in the lab, but never bother to actually go to the place where the real answers are found.”

“And what place is that?” I said. I’m sure I was sounding even dumber than I felt.

“Inside.” With that Michael reached into his back pocket, fished out his wallet and handed Jane and I a card each. “She’s a good woman. The rest is up to you though.”

I looked down at the card. It read:

Julie Light

Quantum Light Therapy

A new telepathic healing process for genuine freedom

There was a phone number and an email address at the bottom. When I looked up I found myself staring at Jane, my mouth slightly open. Michael was gone.

“Looks a little bit dodgy to me,” Jane said sheepishly.

“Yeah, I think maybe you are right.” I slipped the card into my wallet. There was an awkward silence, then I suddenly remembered why I’d come over to speak with her in the first place. Feeling a little embarrassed, I decided to approach the problem indirectly. “Oh, Jane, by the way, is your father a little psychic as well.”

“Um, my father? I really wish I knew the answer to that. But to tell you the truth I wouldn’t know. That booze hound left my mum and I years ago.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that. That must be hard to deal with.”

Jane waved a hand and shook her head. “No way. He’s not worth getting upset over. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.”

The deep feeling I’d had about her was still with me. I knew that she was lying. To herself. But I said nothing. It was enough to realise that my intuition had been correct. A moment of half-elation, half-dread filled me as it dawned on me that I could sense things in others without a single, real-world cue.

There was a slap on my shoulder and I turned around to see the one other person still in the room. It was Paul, and he had a big grin on his face.

“Ready to go, dude?”

“Um, sure.”

We said goodbye to Jane and wandered over towards the cafeteria for a late lunch. Paul was still grinning.

“I sealed the deal man,” he said.

I wanted to wipe that big, dopey smile off his face so bad.

I barely wanted to ask. But I did. “What deal would that be?”

“Amanda,” of course. “Like they say in the classics. When you see a chance you should always take it. Life is short. Carpe Diem. Seize the day and all that.”

I thrust my hands deep into my pockets. I couldn’t believe the low life scum. Thoughts of a swiftly timed kick to Paul’s lower extremities filled my mind.

“So, you got a date?”

“Who me? Not a chance. It’s you she likes, dude.”

I stopped dead, staring at him wide eyed. “What the…!?”

“Yeah, I told her everything. You know, that you have the hots for her and think she’s really pretty and all that girly stuff they love to hear. You are meeting her Friday night at the bar. Bring your wallet, dude. She is a woman, after all.”

I was still blinking, already starting to sweat. Me? On a date?

Paul put his arm round my shoulder, and ushered me along the path. “No need to thank me. Consider it a gift.”

We walked into the dining hall. I wasn’t even sure if anybody else was there. I was so stunned. All I could think about was something my uncle had once told me.

Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

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