1.

The phone rang and Royer’s heart dropped like a sack of potatoes. Even though they hadn’t spoken for over eight years, he knew it was her—intuition dictated it, and after all, he had spent his entire adult life studying, experimenting, and teaching the art of the unseen senses. After a slight hesitation, he picked up the remote and clicked on the audio.

            “Hello,” he uttered to the forty-inch screen hanging on his office wall, four feet in front of him.

            “Hi sweetie,” the voice answered. “Or should I call you Dr. Sweetie?”

            “Gina?” He tried to sound surprised.

            “Of course it’s me, silly. Turn on the video, or did I catch you walking around the house naked?”

            “Huh…no. I was just checking my email. Hang on a second.” Royer stalled while he mustered up enough nerve to lay eyes on the love of his life, the one he let get away—or more likely, pushed away. They had continued to date after that eventful Thanksgiving back in ’99, but then Royer had always felt an empty hole between them that kept them from going to the next step. He supposed a lot of that had to do with what happened that night. They both knew what was going to happen, and they both knew what they need to do to prepare, but they always danced around the topic when the conversation came up.

            In the beginning, Gina was persistent, trying to get Royer to show her what he knew about dream painting. Royer would either procrastinate by telling her it wasn’t a good time, or he would start to work with her on it and then stop, fearing mostly that it wouldn’t work unless he was by himself.

            After a while she let him be, hoping that he would show her when he was ready. But as it turned out, he never felt comfortable enough, and focused his energy on trying to learn what he needed to learn on his own. In the spring of 2002 Kate Brown married her boyfriend, John Wilson, and Royer pumped him endlessly for his knowledge on psychology and the way that people behave. John was instrumental in helping Royer understand emotions, and how people react to them, which in turn helped Royer understand the importance of that unseen sense. In fact, the subject was his specialty by the time he graduated with his bachelor’s. He spent the next few years extensively researching and experimenting with its potential powers, while earning his master’s and doctorate in parapsychology.

            It wasn’t until years later that he realized the whole time he was studying emotions, he was hiding his own from Gina.

            “How the hell are you?” he finally said, clicking on the video. His heart rate doubled the second her beauty illuminated the screen. Royer quickly expanded to full screen and just sat back soaking in every detail of her heavenly appeal. “You look great.”

            “Thanks, so do you. I like the beard.”

            “Thanks,” Royer responded, again stalling looking for the right words to say. After a moment of silence, he broke in with “Gina, you know I’ve been meaning to call you.”

            “I know sweetie.”

            “You don’t know how many times I picked up the phone.”

            “I know, me too. And believe me it was hard not to.”

            “So why now, if I may ask?”    

“Because, it’s time,” she replied.

            “Time for what?” Royer asked.

            “Time to stop fooling yourself, Dr. Emotional Crisis,” she replied, referring to him by the title of his latest best seller.

            “So, you read my book. What did you think?”

            “Of course I read your book. I’m your biggest fan. In fact I think this one tops your first book. The only problem is…” She paused to look for the right words.

            “The problem is what?” Royer was curious as to what her criticism would be.

            “I think you have a magical way of telling the world about what is happening without committing to the importance of what is happening.”

            “So you think I’m hedging around the subject?”

            “Not hedging, hiding is more like it. You know, Royer, I spent the last ten years or so wondering what I did wrong. In my heart and more so in my soul, I knew we were meant to be, but the closer I tried to get to you, the further you pushed away. It wasn’t until I read Emotional Crisis that it dawned on me that the reason you were pushing is because this whole thing scares you. You know you have this ungodly burden to educate the world, but you want to keep your special ability and knowledge to yourself. So you go about it half assed, because you have too, giving as little as you can, like some sacrificial offering, hoping it will suffice.”

            “Gina, it was fear that kept us from moving on, but not fear of me opening up or sharing the Know. It was fear of dragging you into this burden,” Royer said.

            “Oh Roy, is that what you’ve been telling yourself, all these years?” she said in a disappointed tone. “It sounds like a noble excuse, but I can’t believe your keen sense of intuition never questioned its validity. If it did, you would have known there was a reason we were put together.”

            “And what do you think that was?” Royer ask quietly, mulling over what she just said.

            “Can’t you see it is my fate to help you with your goal? I thought in the beginning that I was your practice doll you could use to figure out how to teach the world to dream paint by showing me how. What I didn’t realize was that I was supposed to help but in a different way. It was my job to give you the confidence to overcome your fears.”

            “I still don’t buy it. What fears are you talking about?”

            “I don’t know exactly, fear of being ridiculed? Fear of sharing what up to now has been only yours? Or some kind of combination of the both. Whatever it is, your fear emotion is definitely overriding and suppressing all your other emotions and even your other senses. It has put blinders on you, and it was my job to get you to open up. To wake you up, just like I did in my dream.”

            “With a kiss,” Royer mumbled, remembering the dream she had told him about when they first met. It was all making sense to him now. He wondered how he could be so foolish. Had he really spent the last ten years wasting time for selfish reasons? He wondered if his focus on emotions had just been a subconscious way of telling himself that he was hiding behind his own fears. “Gina, you have to believe that I truly thought I was protecting you. How could I have been so stupid? You must have hated me, thinking I was so full of myself to not know that you are just as much a part of this as I am.”

            “I never hated you. I actually blamed and resented myself for not taking control and doing what I was supposed to do. But like you, I guess I was afraid that I would be intruding on some predestined fate if I were to take actions. I was just sitting by all these years waiting for it to happen by itself.”

            “So why is all this coming out now? Were you truly enlightened by my book, or is there something else?”

            “Yes and yes,” she replied. “Your book opened me up to my own emotional crisis. But what is really putting my butt in gear is what is happening in the news. I think it is definitely time.”

            “What are you talking about?” Royer asked. “Time for what?”

            “Time to take the next step. It’s all happening too fast and I’m afraid we may be too late.”

            “I can’t go into all the details now, and god knows I didn’t want to bring all this up about our relationship on the V-phone.”

            Why don’t you meet me in person and we can talk face to face.”

            “Sounds great, where and when do you want to meet?”

            “We need to meet now. Where is up to you.”

            “I can hop on a plane and be out there tonight. Is Frank’s Pizza down on Elm Street still in business?”

            “Always the sentimentalist. Yes, and Frank told me to tell you, if I ever saw you again, that you still owe him big time for all those free Cokes.”

            “Great, I’ll call you when I land and we can set up a time. Tell Frank to make a Velcro with the works.”

2.

“Yo, yo, yo. If it ain’t my old homey—Dr. D.—Master of Disaster.”

            Royer didn’t even look up from his cappuccino. The coincidences were getting too strong to ignore, as Gina had alluded to on the phone. “Shit, Bobby, didn’t anyone tell you they stopped talking like that back at the turn of the millennium?”

            “Freaking man hasn’t seen me in over ten years, and no hello or nothing. He just forges ahead, correcting my English, like we were back in high school or something.”

            Royer stood up and shook Bobby’s hand. “How the hell are you doing, buddy?” He sized up the monster of a man who now stood before him. Royer had seen him on TV every Sunday afternoon for the last few years, but seeing him in person he realized how big Bobby had gotten. “And what’s all this Master of Disaster crap?”

            “Emotional Crisis. Which was very good by the way. I tell everyone I know that I know the author of a New York Times fucking best seller.”

            “Oh stop it, Mr. Four-time Pro Bowler.”

            “So you haven’t abandoned the old pigskin totally?”

            “Of course not,” Royer pledged. “Once you have football in the blood, you can never lose it totally. But now I am just one of the other millions of ex–high school jocks turned NFL Sunday worshipers. So what brings you to this airport?”

            “Just finished getting our asses whooped at the Meadowlands, and since there is a bye next week, I thought I’d fly back to the old stomping grounds and pay a visit to my old man.”

            “Flight 311?” Royer asked.

            Bobby nodded affirmatively, once again assuring that Royer that the coincidence was a sign of things to come.

            “Great, we can catch up on old times on the flight.” Royer pulled out his boarding pass.

            They had been in the air for just over an hour, or three gin and tonics apiece, when the topic of conversation turned back to Royer’s book.

            “So Velcro, I really did read your books, and I have to admit Positive Projection really did influence me in how I live my life and had a great effect on how I play the game, but really, don’t you think your theories are stretching it a bit in Emotional Crisis? Can a mass of fear-projecting people actually create or even influence the course of natural disasters and ultimately the end of the world as we know it?”

            “Why don’t you tell me how Positive Projection helped, and then I can draw the correlation for you.”

            “I’ve always been a believer in the power of positive thinking. But I always thought it was on some type of subconscious level. You know, if you have doubt in your ability to do something, chances are that you will not be able to do it even if you are more than capable of completing the task, because deep inside you tell yourself not to on a subconscious level. And I also believe that people are easily influenced by emotions and how they relate to the emotions of others. I mean, how much more evident can that be in my line of work?”

             “How so?” Royer asked.

            “When you have seventy thousand highly emotional fans cheering you on, you get really charged up. You can feel the electricity, and that makes you do things you didn’t think were physically possible.”

            “Like Super bowl 45?” Royer prodded. “I’m not talking about your six sacks and two fumble recoveries, but your famous interception—still boggles the mind of many nonbelievers to this day.”

            “I don’t know how many highlights I saw of that catch myself and it still boggles my mine.”

            “Do you remember what you were feeling that game and particularly with that catch?” Royer asked.

            “Well, like I was explaining before, the electricity was definitely there from the get-go. You know, the atmosphere at the Bowl blows regular season games away. But with each sack and fumble recovery, the feeling got stronger and stronger, until I eventually lost total control of my thoughts and actions. I felt like I was a puppet controlled by not only the fans in the stands but also the millions watching on TV. I was no longer in my body, but watching from the best seat on the 50, just sitting, jaw wide open in amazement as I saw myself leap five feet in the air, catch that ball, and then do that back flip. I cheered along with the crowd as I dodged tackle after tackle and ran it back ninety-seven yards in under twelve seconds. Take off my gear and a hundred-something extra pounds and I think I would have set an Olympic track record.” He added, “Don’t get me wrong, I am not bragging about it, because I don’t think that was really me who made that catch.”

            “And not to put down your abilities, Bobby, but it really wasn’t you. What you experienced was a form of mind over matter. You had channeled into the millions of fans and let them project a feat that they all want to see. Likewise when the masses are in tune to negative emotions such as fear they can project those fears into reality.”

            “So you are saying that if a million people are expecting an earthquake, it will happen?”

            “Without a doubt. But they all have to be tuned in to the details of what will happen.”

            “How?”

            “I though you said you read my book.”

            “I did, but like I said I was a little confused about this issue.”

            “Let’s take the tsunami in late 2004, for example. It actually started way back in ’99 with all the end of the world talk,” Royer started to explain.

            “You’re starting to bring back memories. Remember all those Armageddon parties? Oh, my god, do you remember Joe T’s party? You were so wasted.”

            “How could I forget that night?”

            “That’s right. You hooked up with Gina that night. Have you heard from her lately?”

            “Yes, in fact that’s why I’m flying back. She called me and there are some things we have to work out.”

            “You guys are getting back together?”

            Royer just looked at him with his famous Bobby, you’re prodding too much stare, to which Bobby responded, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

            “Don’t worry about it.” Royer answered. “I’ll tell you all about it later, after we finish what we were talking about. It will make more sense then.”

            “OK,” Bobby responded sheepishly, trying to make the connection of what one had to do with the other.

            “First you have to understand different groups of people and how they came together as one force,” Royer continued. “The first group are the Inevitables—those who fear disasters and live their lives afraid of and actually expecting a disaster to happen to them. They think that they are doomed from the get-go and that it is only a matter of time. So they sit around plotting and planning their awful demise. On the opposite side you have the Invincibles, those who don’t fear anything and are convinced that they are impermeable to bad things, so an earthquake, flood, or whatever would never happen around them. You also have the Intellectuals, who need a concrete reason and rational explanation before they can accept an occurrence. And the final group of people, the largest and most influential group, are the Impartials.”

            “Why are they the most influential?” Bobby asked.

            “The biggest factor is that they are the largest group. This is the category most people fall into. They don’t actively know or even think about natural disasters or even the end of the world, but if it is brought to their attention, they will side with the group that puts up the strongest argument. Like spectators in a debate.”

            “So they never take a side until the end?”

            “No, the opposite. That is what is so special about this group. They are called IMPARTIALS because they take all sides from the beginning. Although they don’t obsess about destruction like the Inevitables, they do, out of curiosity, deep down wish for a natural disaster to add some excitement to their ordinarily mundane lives.”

            “Why would they wish for a natural disaster?” Bobby asked.

            “It seems to be a natural trait for people to be interested in the effects of destruction. Just take a look at a bad accident on the side of the road. Do you know anybody who doesn’t slow down to see how bad the accident really is? The worse the cars are smashed up, the more exciting. But like the Invincibles they don’t think it will affect their lives. It would be cool to witness, as long as it was not too close to home, where it would affect their lives. And finally, without the scientific proof, it is hard for them to imagine something actually happening.”

            “So I’m still not sure how people can actually cause these catastrophes.”

            “Its simple, as long as you forget everything you know about science and natural law.” Royer teased. “You see the world, and matter and everything you think of as concrete, is actually made up of types of energy. This energy can be altered with the right amount of voltage.”

            “And that comes from people projecting their energy toward it?”

            “Exactly,” Royer said, elated Bobby was following the flow of the conversation. “Just like your football game, if there is enough energy focused on a particular feat, unimaginable things can occur.”

            “So what happened in 2004 that was different than ’99? It would seem that with all the talk before the millennium, it would have been easier to convince the Impartials to focus their energy on the disaster than after, when fewer people believed something was going to happen.”

            “The key word is focus. Most of the talk was about annihilation from natural disaster, quickly turned to financial chaos and devastation from Y2K issues and then to acts of terrorism.”

            “I remember. It did seem a bit disappointing when the world systems that we were expecting to cease operation at the stroke of midnight kept on ticking without a hint of malfunction.”

            “Right,” Royer agreed. “I think you hit the nail on the head. Many people were disappointed that they were set up for a big fiasco and absolutely nothing happened.”

            “So what happened next?”

            “With the Y2K issue virtually muted, the Inevitables started focusing on the reports of terrorism regarding the New Year’s Eve threats.”

            “And that lead to the tragic events of September 11?”

            “You are the historian, Bobby. If you remember, the whole world focused on the tragedy for a couple of years, everyone expecting, fearing, waiting for even more terrible acts of destruction to follow.”

            “Yeah, I was playing college ball at the time and remember expecting a blimp bomb or something to come crashing into to the stadium, like that Black Sunday movie.”

            “Well, what really happened is that after the event the world was on high alert, which lasted for about six months, but the groups involved were not focusing on the same type of event to create enough of a pull into any one direction.”

            “How so? I think the world thought of nothing but terrorism.”

            “Yeah, but thoughts of kamikaze maniacs turned to thoughts of anthrax crop dusters, which then turned to nuclear war. Not enough of the group were steered to one direction. And as the days turned into months and the months turned in to years, the Impartials turned their attention elsewhere, causing the Inevitables to turn back to square one.”

            “Natural disaster?” Bobby asked.

            “Exactly. A growing group of Inevitables targeted the earthquake of all earthquakes as their version of Armageddon. The big one. The one that was going to send California into the ocean, forever. Although it was just one earthquake and didn’t make sense as the end-of-the-world solution, the energy this group put forward was enough to get some of the Imparitals focusing in on it too, with the subconscious thought of Hey, why not? That could happen, and what better time than now.

            “And that wasn’t enough energy to cause the earthquake back then?”

            “No, because it was just a fraction of the Impartials. You have to imagine everyone projecting energy at once. The Inevitables and the Invincibles usually counterbalance each other with opposite energy fields, with the Intellectuals and Impartials in standby neutral mode. But in this instance, with some of the Impartials taking a side, The Inevitables started to get the upper hand in energy control. But still not enough to force the issue. They needed to convert more neutral energy.”

            “So what happened?”

            “The Hey, why not? energy message grew a little at a time, and by June 2003 it got a jump start from another group of Impartials who were a bit disappointed that nothing had happened, outside of the September 11^th disaster. So an earthquake, or monster hurricane, something along those lines, seemed to be the best remedy for their desire for devastation.”

            “But we are still talking about a good year or so before it actually happened. What too so long?”

            “This new energy was still not enough to get the other Impartials to commit, but what it did do was get the Intellectuals to believe Hey, why not? and that’s when a bunch of them started to look into the effects of global warming.”

            “So while not the big earthquake everybody was expecting, we were hit by several little things for the next several years, like the tsunami, and all those hurricanes and earthquakes,” Bobby surmised, pausing for several seconds before adding, “I get the feeling from reading Emotional Crisis that you are trying to warn us Impartials of something much bigger than those events. Am I right, and if so, what do you know?”

            “You are correct. It was my intention to send a warning, in hopes that we could all pull our energy together and stop what is happening, but Gina is afraid it is too late and we have to take alternative measures.”

            “So Gina is involved. Is there a way I can help?” Bobby asked.

            “I’m sure there is. I don’t think we would both be sitting here at this particular moment in time if it wasn’t in the cards for you to help out. I just don’t know how you fit in right now. Why don’t you come with me tonight? Maybe Gina can figure it out.”

            “I’d love to, but I don’t want to intrude. I’m sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do.”

            “Nonsense,” Royer insisted. “You were the one who basically got us tighter in the first place. I’m actually hoping you can help out once more. Besides, we’re going to meet at Frank’s.”

            “OK, you’ve convinced me. You know I can never turn down a pizza from Frank’s. Was actually thinking of about stopping off there on the way to my old man’s anyway.”

3.

For a moment Royer laid there paralyzed, groggy and unsure of where he was. Although he was apparently still breathing, he could actually feel his lungs bulging out like a sore thumb, as if they’d bloated to three sizes larger than normal. He took in a deep breath to ease the dull ache they were generating, but was immediately greeted with a peculiar sensation. Instead of the exhilarating feeling of cool crisp air stimulating his sinus cavity, a cold salty liquid ran in and out of his nostrils.

            Frightened, he opened his eyes, again taken aback, this time by an alien vision. Just like the time he wore his mother’s glasses as a goof when he was younger, the objects or object he was staring at had a sort of Salvador Dali–like quality. Cloudy, distorted, but mostly pliable, as if melting away. This, coupled with the fact that the lighting was pretty dim, made it impossible to discern what he was truly gazing at. He focused harder, squinting his eyes a bit, but the most he could make out were hundreds of shapes crowded together like a flock of sheep jammed into a small holding pen. No, it was actually more like a large group of spectators as they looked at a concert or sporting event or someone speaking. Like me, he thought. It looks like a crowd of faceless people watching me as if I am a circus attraction or freak.

            In an effort to move in for a closer look to verify his fears, he attempted to jump to his feet, only to find he was able to move but in a much slower, yet more effortless, way, as if floating on air—or water! That is when it dawned on him. He was on display in some kind of saltwater aquarium, like Shamu, the killer whale. He swam toward the glass wall to check it out, and what to his wondering eyes should appear but Bobby and Gina standing up front, collecting money from the crowd. Royer put his hands on the smooth glass surface and stared at them with hurt puppy-dog eyes, in disbelief that they could be selling him out like that. As if reading his mind, Gina turned around and gave Royer a reassuring smile, letting him know not to worry because everything would be all right. But it wasn’t. Royer felt betrayed and abandoned, as if she’d just dumped him at an insane asylum so she could run off with his best friend from high school.

            “No, it’s not OK.” Royer screamed back angrily, frustrated that no sound escaped through the hundreds of tons of water that made up his new prison home.

            Gina just smiled again, pressed her lips up against the three-inch glass window that separated her world from his, and walked away.

             She’s kissing me off, Royer thought. Must be payback for leaving her like that twelve years ago. However, Gina returned carrying a big fireman’s axe and said in a soft, gentle voice, faint yet audible through the barrier between them, “Roy…baby…come on, honey.”

            “Come on and what?” Royer yelped.

            “SNAP OUT OF IT,” she yelled as she swung the axe right at him. The glass exploded into a million pieces as a mountain of water erupted through the axe-created fissure. Without a thought, he leaned back in a futile effort to save himself from being catapulted out onto the showroom floor, but he had a better chance of bodysurfing a tidal wave without a scratch as it crumbled onto the rocky shoreline. In a series of underwater somersaults, he was hurled, smashing backside-down on the hard marble floor. Again he lay there, this time certain that he was paralyzed, no longer able to feel the water that surrounded him.

            “Come on, Royer. Wake up before you hurt yourself,” Royer heard Gina say as she stared down at him.

            He opened his eyes, only to realize he was not lying on the marble floor of the aquarium showroom, but on Gina’s bedroom floor, right next to his shirt and socks, which had been carelessly thrown in the heat of passion just a few short hours ago.

            “Dream skipping again?” Gina asked as she climbed out of bed to lay down next to him.

            “I guess,” he said groggily.

            “Why don’t you tell me about it?” She snuggled up to him. “This one seemed bad.”

            Royer told her about his dream experience, being careful not to express his feelings of resentment toward her for how she and Bobby used him for their own personal gain. He thought that this might be a subconscious projection on his part, spurred from the guilt of not make an effort to see either of them in the past ten years. Or it could have been a bit of the old jealousy, left over from dinner, when he noticed how well they conversed, without any of the awkwardness of friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time.

            However, Gina interpreted the events as something totally different, and it seemed to make sense to Royer.

            “That’s it!” she exclaimed when Royer was through explaining the experience.

            “What?” he asked.

            “That’s how Bobby fits into all this. Don’t you see?”

            “Not really,” Royer answered.

            “How many people read your book?”

            “I don’t know. We sold a million five, but considering those who read a friend’s copy maybe two and a half million .”

            “How many of those readers do you think fully comprehended what you were driving at? Not just the general philosophy, but the true importance of what is happening and what we have to do.”

            “Including you and me? Probably two.” Royer answered snidely, adding “the purpose of this book was just to lay the ground work and general philosophy. My thoughts were then to continue with a more detailed workbook on dream painting. Then my hopes were to get the true believers together in a workshop, to practice and fine-tune their skills and eventually spread the word.”

            “And how long did you expect all this to take?”

            “Never really put a time frame on it. I know I should have, and my intuition kept urging me to mover faster, but I guess I was suffering from a simple case of procrastination. I know now, or guess I always did, that I was never going to get enough people to change the events. But I was hoping we could get a small group of a few thousand to move forward together and take it from there.”

            “And with the turn of events over the last couple of weeks, do you still think you could even round up a few thousand for the crusade?”

            “Obviously not. And again I am kicking myself for not practicing what I preach in terms of listening to my intuition. The feeling has been strong for over two years now, but I thought it was just a kick in the butt to keep the books rolling. Anyway, you seem to have the answers, so why don’t we skip the twenty questions and tell me what the dream meant and what you think we need to do.”

            “Sorry, just using the Dr. Brown method of explaining what to do by having the student answer the questions himself.”

            “Touché. But please explain anyway, because my head is still swimming too fast to put this all together right now,” Royer begged.

            “OK. I’ll try to put it all together as I see it.” She continued, “From my point of view, my sixth sense started playing games with me too, pretty strongly in fact, about two years ago. I knew something was up so, I used it to start doing some in-depth investigation. I kept thinking back to that night with Poppy, and the vision we saw of some type of chemical warfare, started by a mad ruler. I spent the first year and a half trying to get the scoop on what was happening in the Middle East, because that seemed to be the focus for this country for the past quarter decade or so, with all that has occurred in Iraq and Palestine. But the more I looked into it the more it seemed that things were quieting down over there. I continued, searching for clues anyway, fearing that the reason it seemed quiet was because something was brewing—you know, the quiet before the storm. I even spent a year of my life living in Kuwait, trying to see if I could pick up some vibes living closer. But the harder I looked, the further the answer seemed to be. Then I remembered what you once said about letting go. You know, the thing about wise men.”

            “A wise man always knows when to stop thinking,” Royer repeated. Lesson number one that his father gave him, and lesson number one he had given to Gina back in ’99.

            “I don’t think I fully understood the concept of letting go back then, but over the years I would practice just being, and you know what? Things would find a way of working out for me. Only with this it was much harder, too much pressure on making sure it would work out. I did not want to have to let go and wait to find out. So I kept attacking the problem with my logical mind, and you know what that did.”

            “You lost contact with the flow, and forced assumptions deep down you knew were wrong.”

            “Exactly.” She smiled.

            “So what happened next?”

            “I decided to let go,” she continued. “I moved back home, spent a lot of time with myself, mediating, taking long walks, enjoying the weather and nature. But most importantly, I paid attention to what was happening around me, and not what was happening in the news.”

            “And what was happening around you?” Royer asked.

            “Nothing, really, until one day a few months ago. It was a Tuesday, and I had my weekly nail appointment, but I got a call saying they had to reschedule for later that week due to a problem at the shop. Something about a broken pipe, I think. It was no big deal. I had nothing happing that week and my nails were in good shape, so I rescheduled for Thursday, but not even thirty seconds after hanging up, I chipped one.”

            “Chipped one?”
            “Yeah, I cracked the corner right off.” She held up her right index finger, indicating where it had chipped with her left.

            “That’s a strange coincidence.”

            “Sure was, so I took it as a sign that for some reason I needed to keep my appointment for that day. I immediately called up a listing of salons in the area, and was drawn to the eighth or ninth one on the list, which stated ‘Emergency Nail Care’ in the description. Although it was thirty miles north of here, I called to make an appointment for later that day.”

            “So what happened?”

            “Another strange coincidence. The receptionist had just told me they were booked for the day. I said I understood, thanked her  anyway, and was about to disconnect when she interrupted and said they’d just gotten a cancellation as we were talking, and could squeeze me in for two pm. The time of my original appointment.”

            “So how was that appointment?”          

“Very strange and eventful. It was one of those little Korean shops, and the girl doing my nails was not very talkative. At first I thought it was because she just didn’t speak English too well, but after watching her for a while, I could tell it was because she was worried by something and very preoccupied. So I came straight out and asked her what was troubling her.”

            “Did she tell you?”

            “Not at first. So I took a bold move and started telling her what was troubling me. I went into details about my journey to the Middle East and how I felt something devastating was about to happen. As I rambled on I became very self-conscious that I must sound like a total wacko, coming off the street and preaching the end of the world. But something deep down urged me to continue. I had the feeling and just went with the flow.”

            “How did she respond?”

            “Very cordially at first. But when I started talking about the madman and chemical warfare, she went white as a ghost, even dropped a bottle of polish and spilled remover all over the station.”

            “Struck a chord with her?”

            “A deep one,” Gina continued. “Turns out, she had a brother who worked as a soldier at the DMZ over on the North Korean border. He risked his life, going AWOL and making his way out this way, because of what is going on over there.”

            “Yeah, you mentioned earlier tonight something about Kim Jong-Il and troubles in North Korea, but never went into the significance or details.” Royer replied. “What’s going on?”

            “You know that for the last fifty years or so North Korea has been the hermit country of the world. Totally isolated with no news coming in or out of it. Because of this we never really paid attention to what was going on over there. Sure, back in the nineties word got out about the destitution and heartache that endured in the vast North Korean Penal Colony, but because it was so isolated, nobody fully understood the significance of what was really happening and went on to backing other causes as they arose.”

            Royer nodded, feeling a slight sense of guilt for not paying attention himself. Even when the signs were present.

            “Because governments did not want to get involved without the proper backing of their people, NATO and the political powerhouse countries had a strictly hands-off policy with North Korea. If it didn’t have any social or political implications for how they ran their country, it was best left ignored.”

            “Politics,” Royer muttered.

            “That’s right, politics. Word got out about cruelties to the people. First the starvation, then the experiments, and even talks of mass brainwashing, but still the U.S. and other countries plugged up their ears, closed their eyes, and shut their mouth to avoid any political confrontation.”

            “What type of experiments and brainwashing were going on?” Royer asked.

            “Rumor had it, with the country literally staving to death from a total embargo of any imports, Kim Jong-Il instructed his army to sector off the people. Those who followed his instructions and new way of life would be rewarded with a weekly ration of food and other necessities. Those who refused were left to eventually fade away, with little or no food to feed them all. Occasionally the soldiers would bring a week’s or even month’s supply of food to the region in exchange for a group of volunteers.”

            “Volunteers for what?” Royer asked.

            “Medical experiments,” she replied “According to the nail girl, San Won Park, her brother had heard rumors that the medical group was experimenting with deadly virus strains, and at first the volunteers were guinea pigs the scientist used to measure the results as they searched for the fastest and most destructive virus. Then about a year ago, San Won’s brother heard they discovered a strain that would kill a person in less than twenty minutes, but more importantly could be spread through an entire country in less than forty-eight hours if the conditions were right.”

            “If San Won’s brother discovered this a year ago, why did he wait until now to get away?” Royer asked, more hoping that this was not true than doubting the validity of what Gina was telling him.                        

            “Because he always thought all these rumors were just that—rumors—and did not want to disgrace himself or the family by leaving his post without proof. But ask and you shall receive, and proof is just what he got,” Gina explained. “About three weeks ago, San Won’s brother and a group of other guards brought in a North Korean who had managed to escape over the border. The proof was that this man’s body was entirely covered in lesions and puss-filled welts, as if his skin was melting right off. Turns out he was one of the volunteers they had injected with the virus. They waited five minutes and then injected a vaccine they had developed. The virus had immediately started to eat away at his body and likewise was immediately killed by the vaccine.”

            “If this is true—I mean about the vaccine and all—how do we stop it, or more importantly, can we stop it from happening?”

            Gina just looked at Royer patiently, waiting for him to answer his own question.

            “Of course we can’t,” Royer finally muttered. “I guess I always knew this whole thing was inevitable since we first learned about it, but I told myself it was my job to gather the masses and prevent it from happening.”

            “You’re right about gathering the masses, but your job was never to save this world. Biblically speaking, your job is more like Moses’, or better yet, Noah’s.”

            “How so?” Royer asked.

            “You need to lead the masses to a new world. Gather tighter those who will listen, teach them to paint, and then let them find each other and start creating their masterpieces.”

            “What do you mean find each other?”

            “Oh come on, Dr. ParaPhys, you still don’t see what this is all about?”

            “Borrowed dreams?” he asked.

            “Yes. Only this time it’s graduation. Those who are ready to move on will seek you out, ready to learn. Those who are not, we do not have to worry about, because when this world is over they will go on to learn what they need to in a similar world.”

            “So those who are ready just need to know what to do to paint their new world and will seek out others with the same goals to live in that world.”

            “Exactly.”

            “So the questions remain: How much time do we have, and how do we reach all those who are ready?”

            “Can’t be sure how much time we do have—maybe a month, maybe a few. But what I do know is that there isn’t time for recruitment. We need to gather those who are ready in one big swoop and then use what time we do have to teach them what you know.”

            “Sounds fine, but how do we reach all of them in one big swoop? Assuming we just settle for attacking the United States, and five percent of the population is ready to move on, we’re talking over twenty-five million people. That’s ten times what I’ve reached in five years of writing best sellers.”

            “Don’t you see? That’s what the dream you just had was all about.”

            Royer shook his head.

            “It’s how Bobby fits in,” Gina continued. “In just three weeks from Sunday, Bobby has the power to not only introduce you, but to have you demonstrate your abilities to seventy-five percent of the U.S. population gathered together as one captive audience.”

            “Of course!” he exclaimed. “The Super Bowl. But how does Bobby arrange to get me to speak or demonstrate at the Super Bowl? I don’t doubt his status as one of the league’s best players, but we are talking about the biggest media event of the year. And I’m not sure how much say the NFL has over what the advertisers do off the field.”

            “You won’t be speaking in that forum. We are going to draw our audience to a different one,” Gina explained. “An alternate reality that we create where they have no choice but to be a captive audience and learn.”

            “A massive dream skip,” Royer replied, intrigued. “But how? It’s the old catch-22. We don’t have the power to move a crowd that large into a skip. We need them all to pool their energy together and focus as a group, and without reaching them first, how do we prepare them to do that?”

            “Through mass déjà vu,” she replied right on cue. “We first contact a small number of the five percenters who, through intuition, know its time to move on and that the answer will be clear by watching the Super Bowl. This group will be strong enough to get the message out to the rest of the group who has not yet connected to its importance. And at the exact moment of truth, although not knowingly, everybody will be cosmically connected and ready for the skip.”

            “Again, sounds like a plan, but I have three simple questions. First off, how do we reach the small group if we don’t know who they are? Second, how do they relay the message to the rest of the group if that group is not tuned in? Third, and most importantly, how does everyone, including you and I, know when the exact moment of truth is to begin with?”

            “Again, through mass déjà vu and some extracurricular dream enhancements,” she replied patiently.

            Starting to see where she was heading, Royer added, “So Bobby, you, and I know when the exact moment will be, because we will create it in our minds, then project that moment into the minds of the connect group intuitively through their dreams and let them project it to the rest of the group through their dreams. And come that Sunday everybody will subconsciously focus there and physically create the event we originally dreamed up, which will create mass déjà vu. The déjà vu will force the entire group to connect all at once and prepare for the skip. It’s brilliant, but will it work?”

            “Of course it will,” Gina said calmly, “it’s our destiny.”

4.

“I’d forgotten how beautiful the stars are out here,” Royer said to Gina, staring at the crisp winter night sky from the cobblestone bridge that crossed the creek separating Peak’s Meadow from old man Freeling’s apple orchards.

            They had just finished meeting with Bobby, and the plan was set for the big game. It would be a blocked field goal, run back for a touchdown to break a quarter-long tie and win the game with no time left on the clock for the Bears. Bobby felt the field goal would have the best effect for a grabbing mass attention all at once, because there would be three minutes for everyone to stew it over in their mind while they waited for the final moment of suspense. His only stipulation was that he not be involved in the play, but on the sidelines ready to make the skip.

            “What are they like in your big city back east?” Gina asked.

            “Not as vibrant and certainly not as many,” Royer replied.

            “Don’t tell me. Show me.”

            Without a second thought Royer stared up at the sky and then closed his eyes and imagined how it looked when he walked out on his West Side balcony each night. After a minute of holding the picture clearly in his mind, he reopened his eyes to see that the Montana stars had not only lost some of their shine, but had thinned out.

            “Amazing,” Gina exclaimed. “You’ve been practicing.”

            “What did you think, that I would come to this point totally unprepared?” he said jokingly.

            “No, but when you first showed me your gift, it took us hours of concentration to change a simple cloud pattern. Now you make it seem so effortless.”

            “That’s the beauty of dream painting,” Royer replied. “Once you learn to take away the boundary between reality and your imagination, it doesn’t take that much effort to mix the two.”

            “Well, I’m glad, because we have a lot to prepare,” Gina injected. “Where do you want to start?”

            “Shenandoah,” Royer replied.

            “Shenandoah?”

            “Yes, and you are going to help paint it, but first we need to gather up some recruits.”

            “Who?” Gina asked, but Royer just shushed her, leading her by the hand to the end of the bridge, where they sat cross-legged on the cold, stiff grass.

            “Close your eyes and concentrate on everything that surrounds you,” Royer said in a soft, melodic voice. “The sound of the brook as the water cascades over the smooth rocks beneath it. The feel of the cool air whisking through your hair. Feel it…breath it…smell it…be it. You are the brook… the air…the earth…. You are one with nature. Now, imagine a world without feeling. No ground beneath you… No stars above you… No air to breathe… No sound… No light…just darkness. It’s not a bad place. Not evil…not good. Just empty. Waiting. Waiting to be filled with the wonders of the universe.” Royer stopped talking, but continued to communicate through his thoughts.

            What do you feel?

            Peaceful, she thought, and loved. We are not alone, are we?

            No, we are one with the universe. We have connected with the souls of our creators, seeking guidance and ready to guide those who seek our guidance.

            What do you mean?

            You’ll see. Just enjoy the feeling and wait until you are summoned.

            Gina wasn’t sure if they stayed connected for hours or seconds. It was hard to keep track, since time did not seem to exist in that state. They listened to millions of thoughts all at once, and responded to each thought with pure love that engulfed them. And then it was gone. All at once. But when they opened their eyes they were not back at the brook. Now they were sitting on the same mound of red, pliable substance Royer had found himself on a few years back with his first dream skip.

            “What…who…where?” Gina blurted out all at once, dazed and confused. Royer could see in her face that the letdown was too abrupt, like a diver coming up too fast without decompression. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she went out in an instant.

5.

“Where am I?” Gina moaned.

            “A training ground,” Royer answered. “The one where you taught me how to hone my special skills.”

            “What?” she asked, still a little groggy.

            “Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet.” Royer helped her to her feet. As they walked he explained how they had both been here before at this particular moment, and it was then/now that she had shown him the great art of dream painting.

            “What do you mean I showed you how to dream paint? You were the one who showed me. And I do not ever remember being in this place before. I think I would definitely remember it, dream or reality.”

            “Well, to answer you briefly, you don’t remember because it has not happened to you yet as you perceive this moment. And yes, I taught you how to dream paint, but only after you taught me how to dream paint. It all has to do with me being here now in this present moment, back then in the past. Don’t worry, it will all start making sense soon. But first I want you to meet someone who is very special to me.” Royer led her by the hand behind a tall mound of red stuff.

            Royer’s father stood like a statue as they approached, and he greeted them with, “Hi ho. Great to see you. Are you already to do this again?”

            “Sure am. Think it might be easier this time round, now that I’m familiar with the surroundings and the lessons.”

            “Roy boy, don’t assume you know the lesson. It is forever changing with the moment. The surroundings may be the same, but the moment has freshened with new light and knowledge, which will ultimately affect the accomplishments of the lesson.”

            “I think that’s Roy’s biggest lesson to learn. Assumptions usually change the outcome of the event, if you spend your time in the future creating the ending, instead of in the present, living and learning.” Gina extended her hand to Jay Brown. “Hi, I’m Gina Fazzia, but I guess you know that if I have been here before. That is, if I may be so bold as to presume, Mr. Brown?”

            “Please call me Jay, Gina. And if I may be so bold as to say, you are quite the study. You have a wonderful sense for observation. I commend my son for choosing you as his teacher.”

            “Why, thank you, Jay.” She turned to Royer and asked, “So where do we start on the debriefing of my role in all of this, what was it…ah, yes, Arby?”

            “And if I may say, you have quite the memory. I think I probably only mentioned that name once, and that was years ago.”

            “But it has stuck with me ever since. Whenever I want a good chuckle, I think of you in one of those really big cowboy hats, and you become Arby to me. The rootin’ tootinest Royer Brown in town.”

            By this time Jay was laughing loudly along with her. Royer just looked at them both and shrugged his shoulders. “What’s so funny? I don’t get the joke.”

            “Don’t you remember Arby’s fast food restaurants, with the big-hat logo sign?”

            “Yes, but I still don’t see the humor in it.” He took one look at them laughing hysterically and started to giggle along. Then he pictured himself in one of those twenty-gallon gag cowboy hats and bent over in hysterics himself.

            “It’s great to see you laugh like that again, sweetie. I really miss the old you.” Gina said, after finally composing herself. Then in an effort to avoid offending Royer, she added, “I mean, I miss the way things used to be before we got caught up in all this. I miss us.”

            “I miss us too, and yes, I miss the old me too,” he replied, turning to his father for the cue.

            Jay just looked back and shook his head, staring. “Nice try on the dreamatic segue, but let’s fill Gina in on some of the basics first.”

            “What dreamatic segue?” Gina asked to whoever would answer first.

            “The old me,” Royer replied. “Do you remember the night we met, at Joe’s party, and I spaced out for a while?”

            She nodded. “You told me later at my grandfather’s that was the night you had your vision quest. I never told you, but there was something weird about that night at Joe’s.”

            “What?” Royer asked.

            “Well, when I came back from the bathroom, you weren’t there. I assumed you got up to get a beer or something. But after waiting a while, I figured you just got tired of being there and took off.”

            “So what did you do?”

            “Nothing,” she replied. “I just sat around on the log, next to where you were sitting when I left, thinking about things. But when I turned my head a few minutes later, you were magically sitting next to me, as if you’d never left. At the time, I had figured I just must have zoned out myself for a little bit and you had rejoined me, but it always bothered me. You were so out of it that it didn’t seem likely you could sit down and a few seconds later be totally spaced out. I think that’s why I shook you, because I was so freaked.”

            “I guess you know now that I wasn’t there because I was actually here, now, with you. Don’t ask me to explain it in scientific terminology—quantum physics, time-space continuum, or anything like that. Because as we have been discovering, ever since that day, reality, or physical reality as we know it, is a lot more complicated, or should I say different, than we were lead to believe.”

            “Any explanation based on that limited knowledge just touches the surface and distorts what is actually a very simple understanding,” Jay Brown added.

            “So what is the simple explanation?” Gina asked.

            “In layman’s terms,” Royer replied, “physical reality is quite simply the world you create to enhance your mind and soul. Wherever your soul goes, so does your physical plane. Likewise the dream painting is just an extension of repositioning your physical plane by controlling your thoughts, your wishes, your hopes, basically your inner energy, which is your soul.”

            “And my job is to teach the uneducated Royer all this tonight?” Gina asked, amused at the idea.

            “I guess you can consider it train-the-trainer training,” Jay added.

            “But why me? Wouldn’t you be better off training yourself?”

            “I was always more apt to listen to you than listen to myself,” Royer joked.

            “Yeah, but you would never admit it,” Gina quipped back. “But seriously, I was never any good at this dream painting stuff. I don’t know if I can do it.”

            “Of course you can—don’t forget, you already did. It’s your ordained destiny.”

            “What do you mean ordained? Did somebody choose my fate in this life?” she asked.

            “You chose your own destiny,” Jay explained. “As you have learned, your physical reality is set up as a learning ground for you to explore and experience what you cannot in your nonphysical energy state. As a nonphysical soul, you are not bound by the shackles of the physical realm and the lack of knowledge about what life is all about. Therefore, outside of love, emotions are nonexistent. There is no understanding of hate, fear, greed, or anything negative, because there is nothing to hate, fear, or feel greed for. No physical sensations to stir emotions.”

            “So nonphysical souls get to take a holiday,” Royer jumped in. “A sort of pleasure cruise in a sea of reality. Picking the world you want to spend a life in is just as easy as making travel arrangements. You decide what you want to experience on a physical level, what you need to experience on an emotional level, and what you want to accomplish to make your soul more complete and enlightened. The only problem in that when you are born into that world, all existing knowledge of what you set out to do and experience vanishes.”

            “Except for the inner connection,” Jay added.

            “The inner connection,” Gina echoed.

            “Basically your sense of intuition,” Royer clarified. “Intuition is basically a communicating line to other like souls in your soul group. If you learn to listen and follow your intuition, you will always be on the right path to achieve what you set out to accomplish. Either consciously or unconsciously. Take us, for example.”

            “Yes, why don’t you explain how we fit into all this life destiny stuff?” Gina asked.

            “For starters we are soul mates, meaning we come from the same group of souls with the same level of enlightenment and, more importantly, the same goals and accomplishments. Prior to coming here together we made a pact to meet up and help each other with our ordained duty, which obviously is to educate the masses and teach those who choose to move on. By a flip of a coin or something like that, I got the job of delivering the message and you got the job of keeping me in line. I believe everything was right on schedule until I pulled away and tried to spare you or, more precisely, prevent you from doing your job, in turn making my job almost impossible.”

            “So our meeting was not by chance? And is there something I could have done differently to keep you in line?” Gina asked, touched by Royer’s praise for her importance.

            “To answer your first question, no. My father’s death and my mother’s deciding to move to Westview were all part of the master scheme, projected by my father and me to get together.” Royer turned to his father, adding, “Sorry to make it sound so conniving and cutthroat, taking your life to benefit myself.”

            Jay just laughed and replied, “Don’t apologize to the master planner.”

            “Well, at least let me apologize for my behavior in trying to handle this all by myself, and setting us back by ten years or so.”

            “Roy, you are still doing it,” Gina jumped in. “If what you are saying about each of our parts is true, then I am just as much responsible for not making you listen to me in the beginning. But more importantly, is there anything we can do at this point?”

            “I don’t think so,” Royer answered. “The simple laws of nature allow physical beings who raise their level of awareness to seek help through intuition, meaning spirits can guide a physical soul by highlighting the better choice, but cannot supply the answer directly.”

            “Makes sense, I guess, but how do you explain you being here now?” she asked.

            “I am a physical soul, like you. There are no limits on what information we supply as long as it is learned in our physical life. In fact, that is our sole mission,” he replied.

            “You’re missing the point, Roy,” Jay chimed in. “I am not a physical soul, and when the old you shows up, technically you are not a physical soul, nor is Gina, because we are working on a previous time plane.”

            Royer looked dumbfounded as the thought laid heavy on his mind, muttering, “I guess so.”

            “My guess is that because we are at the close of a cycle and you two have volunteered to be the messengers, certain exceptions to the rules are being made.”

            To which both Gina and Royer simultaneously jumped in with, “Cycle?”

            “Yes,” Jay continued. “Life schools go in cycles, and the life school you call earth is at a close, meaning that souls who wish to learn what the earth has to offer have to find it on another level in the future. Both of you in your nonphysical form chose to bring that message to the other souls ready to move on, so I guess there is a bit of rule bending going on to help you achieve your goal. The growth of billions of souls depends on you succeeding.”

            “What if I explain all this to the old Royer tonight? Do you think that will change the way we both react in the past, helping us prepare more for today?” Gina asked.

            “It might,” Jay answered, “but likewise it might also prevent it.”

            “Speaking from firsthand experience, this whole trip was very confusing to me,” said Roy. “There is the possibility that if we change what happens here tonight, it may alter what I do after this we experience, which means that maybe I don’t make my way out to your house to meet up with you and your grandfather on that Thanksgiving.”

            “Or maybe you do, and we speed things up,” Gina answered.

            “But is that a chance you are willing to take? Maybe our plan for the Super Bowl will work and we blow it all by altering the past,” Royer replied.

            “Don’t you think it’s odd that we are even given a chance to change the past? Maybe the plan doesn’t work and this is our only chance to change it,” she protested.

            “Gina, this is your area of expertise. I haven’t listened to you in the past like I was supposed to, so believe me I am not going to try to convince you otherwise, but it is your job to keep me in line. However you wish to proceed is up to you, and you can count on me for one hundred percent support,” Royer conceded.

            “Thank you. I think I will play it by ear tonight and hopefully everything will work out as planned. I just hope…”