The Reconciliation – Chapter 14: Where there is hatred, Let me sow love

Did she wake you up

to tell you that

It was only a change of plan?

Dream up, dream up,

let me fill your cup

With the promise of a man.

Will I see you give

more than I can take?

Will I only harvest some?

As the days fly past

will we lose our grasp

Or fuse it in the sun?

(chorus)

Neil Young, Harvest

Daniel savors the coolness of the pillow on his cheek. He feels emotionally drained by the events of the evening, and he is comforted by the idea of a good night’s sleep.

“Lucky?  You’re not asleep already are you?” says Ashley as she slides between the sheets next to him.

Daniel turns to her and gives a half-hearted chuckle that says, “No, but I’m well on my way.”  He moans and his eyes strain and sag with the effort of keeping them fixed on his wife’s face.  She touches his face and sighs.

They have no words worth speaking in this moment.  It is both a return and a beginning.  Both a beginning and an end.  Daniel can no longer accept the life he was living before Collins, Bradford, Shanti, or connection.  Connection!  We are connecting. He takes a moment to feel the warmth of his own beating heart.  It feels fuller.  He looks into Ashley’s face and can see that she feels it, too.  With her eyes, Ashley conveys the thought “See?  There’s room in there for me, too.”

Together, they drift into deep sleep, at least for awhile.  Sometime between 2 and 2:30 a.m., Daniel is awakened.  He is not sure by what, but he is aware that a warm, tingly feeling is beginning to envelop him, starting at the top of his head and moving slowly down his body until he is bathed from head to toe in luminous waves of vibration.  He feels the familiar touch of hands around his own and Shanti is urging him into a sitting position.

“Daniel.  We have work to do.”

Daniel thinks he hears a hint of urgency in Shanti’s tone that he hasn’t heard before.  Quietly, Daniel slips out of bed and walks down the hall and into the study where he sits in the overstuffed armchair-and-a-half.  As he settles into it with crossed legs, he decides that it suits his purposes and begins to breath deeply.

Daniel finds that it takes little effort to return to the pleasant state that caused him to wake up just minutes before.  With no words or fanfare, Shanti and Daniel lock eyes and hands and take off.  Like a frequent airplane passenger who no longer strains his neck trying to look out of the window, Daniel eases back into quantum flight.

Soon, a familiar scene begins to form around them.  It’s lunchtime at the fountain, and the chubby businessman with the chilidogs is shouting at the homeless man, “Get lost!”.

Daniel turns to Shanti for advice or instructions.

Shanti says nothing.

Daniel stares blankly at the scene in front of him.  He can see that the homeless man is suffering and that he needs to do something now before he misses his chance.  But what?  He tries to remember Shanti’s advice about the hierarchy in the Prayer.  Ok!  Hate and Love come first!  But what do I do?  JESUS! He thinks back on his first botched attempt at this and how the scene had ended in theft and curses.  JESUS CHRIST! Why didn’t it work?!

“Pity in the hands of hatred is hatred, Daniel.  What will bring peace to hatred?”

Daniel acts quickly.  Once again, he moves toward the businessman. Once again he instinctively avoids the shadows.  He disappears just for a few seconds, and then he returns to Shanti’s side. They watch as the man’s face, contorted with anger and disgust, slowly transforms into a face filled with amazement, then shame, then sorrow, then…love.  He turns and picks up one of his chili dogs and walks up to the dark-skinned, homeless man who appears surprised at first, perhaps because he has only just received a tongue-lashing from the same man.  The words are quiet and few.  The businessman motions the homeless man to the side of the fountain to sit with him.  He drops his guard and heads for the fountain.  There, they eat in silence while the busy world roars around them.  The lunch is small and their visit is brief, and as they get up to go the businessman discreetly hands the homeless man a twenty dollar bill.  The homeless man nods, turns, and disappears into the crowd.

As the scene begins to fade, the businessman stands motionless and his face transforms one last time.  Peace, thinks Daniel.

“Yes, brother.  Peace,”  echo’s Shanti as Daniel slowly begins to feel the chair beneath him.

Before returning to bed, Daniel once more pictures the single image that he planted inside the man’s head.  Daniel had a hunch and he was right.  The businessman was indeed a father, and when he looked at the homeless man standing before him, just for an instant, he saw his own son.

Inspiration.

Instrument of Peace.

Where there is Hatred, let me sow love.

For once, Daniel doesn’t feel so confused about his new night job.  He saves questions of why, how, who, and reality for another night and satisfies himself with a little piece of the what.  He settles into sleep with the resonance of love and peace washing over him and his slumbering wife beside him.

The following morning, Daniel will remember all the details of his late night experiences except for one.  In the moments before his final surrender to sleep,  Daniel feels a warm breeze or breath in his left ear.  He turns his head expecting to see his wife lying close enough for him to feel her hot breath in his ear, but she is turned away from him.  The mysterious breath is a whisper so subtle that it can only leave the impression of words.  Daniel’s fading consciousness detects four words that trigger deep and forgotten memories that will be the stuff of his dreams until morning.  The words “I am with you” hang before him just before the flame of his conscious mind is snuffed out and sleep embraces him.

Daniel wakes up to the local public radio station at six a.m. to get ready for his morning commute.  The thought of things being back to normal begins to form in his mind, but it quickly fades as he begins to assess the matter.  In Daniel’s mind, nothing seems normal anymore.  He is aware of something different.  But what?  What is different?    Like a frozen lake with the approach of spring, he feels as if his brain is beginning to shift.  Bits of his brain that had been hibernating, locked in, are now beginning to stir with renewed life.  Nothing leaping out of the water quite yet, just wiggling a little here or a little there.  Just enough that he decides to give up his morning breakfast ritual at the bagel shop and eat breakfast at home with his family.

“Ash?” says Daniel.

Daniel’s voice triggers Ashley’s morning stretch which Daniel finds adorable and fascinating.  Never in his life had he seen such a stretch in a human before he met her, only in cats.  Moans and squeals.  Back arching.  Butt protruding. Arms reaching.  Face scrunching.  Yawning.  All coming to a final climax that involves one last squeal, a a muscular quiver, and then a release followed by a little lip smacking.  Her first words,  Daniel thinks, are the best part.  They are high and squeaky, not quite focused into an adult human voice, yet.

“What?” she says.

“Would you mind if I eat breakfast with you guys?”

She sits up, furrows her eyebrows, and looks around as if trying to get her bearings.  “Um….sure.   The kids will love it.  It won’t be any kind of gourmet breakfast.  Ok?”

“That’s fine.  I just want to spend a little time with you guys before I go to work.  I don’t get to see you enough.”

This earns Daniel a morning kiss.

As Daniel enters the shower, he becomes aware of his rigid shower ritual.  Enter so that the water hits the back first.  Slide the door shut.  Turn to face the shower.  Wet hair and face.  Soap front torso, genitals (careful not to stimulate!), then arm pits, then shoulders, then arms, then back, then butt crack, then legs, then feet.  Shampoo hair.  If there is little shampoo, ration carefully.  If it’s a new bottle, have a shampoo feast as a reward for rationing.  Apply conditioner.  Same rules apply.  While hair is conditioning (efficiency is the key here!), wash face, rinse, lather soap for shave.  The shaving procedure is too complicated to mention.  Rinse conditioner.  Do a final turn around rinse.  Turn off shower.  Squeegee sliding glass shower door.  Retrieve towel quickly from outside door towel rack.  (Careful not to let out the steam! It’s good for the voice!) Close door. Quickly and thoroughly dry from top to bottom.  Finally, open door, step on mat, fold and hang towel.

Instead, Daniel stands in the shower and sings for awhile.  “Lord make me and instrument of Thy peace…” and thinks about his late night encounter with the businessman and the homeless man.  What can this mean?  Am I becoming some sort of superhero?, wonders Daniel.  He grunts and thinks, No costume…unless pajamas count. His heart is warmed when he pictures the look of peace on the man’s face.

“Daaaanieeel!” calls Ashley from the bedroom.

“Wha-at?”  sings Daniel in return.

“I’m frying eggs!  Do you still like the yolk well-cooked?”

Daniel had been warned by the Dallas local news for years of the dangers of over-easy eggs crawling with salmonella, but the thought of dipping fresh buttered toast into hot liquid gold oozing out of his egg makes his mouth water.

What the hell! “Over-easy, please!”

In the next room, Ashley raises her eyebrows and nods in the same “No shit” manner that Dr. Collins had done when Daniel had told him that he was doing great, except for this time Daniel is the real deal.  For once, at least for this bright November morning, Daniel is great.  Daniel is beginning to believe that his luck has changed.

He is greeted with cheers by Laura who is sitting at the table with a bright yellow school bus backpack strapped to her back.

“Yeah!  Daddy’s eating breakfast with us!”

Daniel, inspired by Laura’s enthusiasm, rushes to her and pulls her out of the chair and spins her around.

“Upside down!  Do it upside down!” she pleads.

“Laura,” he says in mach seriousness, “If I’m upside down, I can’t spin you around.”

“No!  Not you!  Me!”

“Ok, ok.”  He carries her upside by her ankles around the living and chants, “Upside down.  Like a clown.  In a purple wedding gown.  Upside down…”

Laura laughs hard at this new bit of silliness, and although she begs for more, Daniel puts her down when he sees Jake drag his backpack to the table and sit down.  Jake is distant and hesitant at first, but Daniel does not hesitate.  He steps behind Jake and gently lays his hands on his bony shoulders.

“Good morning, bat dork,” Jake mumbles.

As on Halloween night, this causes Laura to burst into muffled giggles, not sure of whether her mother would approve, but as Ashley lays a plate of bacon on the table, she is smiling.

“I’d rather be a bat dork than fried pork,” says Daniel.

Jake, caught off guard, snorts and even chuckles a bit as he shoves a piece of crisp bacon into his mouth.  It is a cheery breakfast, and Jake even accepts a brief hug from Daniel before leaving for work.

“Lucky, I’m not sure what’s happening to you, but I like it.” Ashley voice is silky as she wraps her arms around his waist.

Daniel can feel the electricity in her touch and resists the urge to freeze up or filth up with all of his strength.  He knows that not everything is great.  And although their connection is strong, it is not yet complete.  He can feel this, and he wilts a little bit just thinking about.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

He gives her a “you know” kind of look and she does know.  She squeezes him tight and Daniel can feel the sexual energy fade and become replaced with something else.

“It’s ok.  I’m ok.  We’re going to be ok.  I can feel it,” she assures him.

His emotions, freely flowing, well up in him.  Joy, hope, regret-all swirl together and form in tears.  She squeezes him even harder, and he squeezes back.  It starts with emotion, he thinks, it all starts with emotion. As they hold each other, Daniel perceives the faint sensation of someone whispering in his left ear and wonders if there isn’t someone else with them in the room.  An inexplicable shiver runs down his spine.  Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of dread begins to form.  He steps back from Ashley.  She looks at him questioningly.  He is frozen in place as four words begin to take shape in his mind.  He can feel their icy malice as they take focus and take hold.

I am WATCHING you.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 13: Wisdom of Wives

Sleep Tight.

Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

See you in the morning light.

Traditional Bedtime Blessing

“Where did I go wrong?  That guy needed money!  The chili dog guy was being an asshole, so he should be the one, right?!”

Shanti’s laughter subsides and his loving gaze returns.  He does not speak, yet.

“Right?” repeats Daniel. “For it is in giving, that we receive.  The black guy needed money and the white guy needed to give so that he would receive peace.”

“Daniel, there is wisdom in what you are saying, but you are overlooking something.  There is a reason for the order of the peace pairings in St. Francis’ prayer.”

Hmmm…hatred and love, injury and pardon, doubt and faith. Peace Pairings…

“Where there is hatred, let me sow love,” mutters Daniel to himself.  “Of course…”

As Daniel ponders the implications of this hierarchy of peace, Shanti slowly fades away and Daniel drifts back down into his body.

“Wait! Shanti!” he looks around as if waking from a dream.  He’s back in the meditation room, only a Buddha and a Ganesh stare back at him.  “Can I try again?” asks Daniel weakly to the empty room.

Immediately curious about the time, he looks at his watch. 7:42.  That’s only about 20 minutes.  That’s weird.  Last time it was like 2 hours. He sits for a few minutes, thinking on his experience with the businessman and the pan-handler, St. Francis, Shanti, and time.  The question that keeps rising to the top of his list of questions, though, has to do with reality.

If these people and places are real, then why was it lunchtime there and dinnertime here? (Daniel often relates time with food.)  Surely I’ve never seen any of these people.  I didn’t recognize the apartment with the young couple last time or the city from tonight.  Am I screwing with real people or not.  Shanti said it’s like my Batman thing as a kid, “Reality is not the point”.  Shit!  He should be a politician or something.  Slippery bastard.  Well, as long as he doesn’t put me in a life or death situation with somebody, I suppose it doesn’t really matter all that much.

With the peaceful effects of the meditation still swirling around him, Daniel picks up the telephone and dials his home number.  He wants to connect with Ashley in some way.  He wants her to feel his compassion for her.  Yes, compassion.  I have compassion for you, Ash.  You have suffered because of me. As the dial tone begins it’s steady beckoning of his own household, he thinks briefly back to the previous night’s disaster.  The hand-washing attacks are as mysterious to him now as they were when they first started just a few months before.

Daniel and Ashley’s sexual encounters had all but ceased, and Ashley was getting desperate.  On a purely biological level, their sexual appetites were just about equal, but in practice, neither one of them were getting much of anything.  At first, Ashley had been very attracted to Daniel.  He was handsome, funny, and spontaneous.  Sure, some of her friends teased her for dating him.  Daniel was not known for his coolness.  He was a music major.  Male voice majors were often called “choir fag” and instrumental majors were known as “bandy” or the more straight forward “band nerd”.  He was also not exactly the macho type. On their first date, Ashley had playfully pinched him on the arm.

“OUCH!” Daniel had complained, “You nearly punctured my skin!”

At first, she thought he was just kidding around.  But when he didn’t join in with the laughter, she knew he was not the toughest guy she’d ever dated.  But still, there was something about him that attracted her.  A subtler quality in his smile.  A gentleness in his touch.  A sparkle in his eyes.

Where had these qualities gone?  Maybe if she could just set the mood, give him an offer he couldn’t refuse, he would come around.  She dropped the kids off at the babysitter’s house.  She chilled the wine.  She lit candles, played music, put on her sexiest negligee.  Who could possibly turn her down?  She could think of a dozen men who would do anything to be in Daniel’s place this evening, but she didn’t want any other man.  She wanted Daniel.  But she was getting desperate.  Desperate for touch.  Desperate for attention.  Desperate for a connection with her husband.  When he came home from work to find his fantasy of marriage realized before his eyes he was, at first, ecstatic.  She was a sure thing.  There was no possibility of his deep-rooted, unconscious fear of rejection to be realized tonight.

As the evening progressed, so too did Daniel’s fantasy.  What does a woman do when she is caught between being someone’s fantasy and wanting to be someone’s partner?  That night, she settled for fantasy, and Daniel could feel it.  He could feel it like dirt under his fingernails, pain in his chest, and suffocation in his lungs.  He would have to go to the emergency room, but he couldn’t bear the thought of going out in public with filthy hands like this.  They would know.  It would be as plain as the nose on his face.  They would see who he really was.  So he began to wash, first with warm water and the soap in the dish.  But water wasn’t hot enough and the soap wasn’t clean enough to truly clean his kind of filth.  He endured the pain because he felt that it was purifying him, and eventually the feelings subsided.  The crisis was over, but the damage was done.  From then on any confrontation with sex required some kind of ritual.  If email checking or shoe polishing didn’t work, then it would have to be escalated to hand washing.

And now the full exercise of Ashley’s majestic sexual powers have failed her, not once but twice.  And Daniel knows that she needs him more than ever tonight, if only to let her know that they are still in this together.  This marriage does not stand on your ability to seduce me, Ashley.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweety.”

For a moment, there is silence on the line.  Daniel wonders if Ashley is going to hang up on him.

“Hi, Daniel.”

He’s not really sure what to say.  Usually, he practices a bit before making an important phone call like this.  But now he has just jumped right in as if he were a man could do such a thing.

“Hi, sweety.  I just wanted to call and see if you were okay.  I feel really bad about what happened last night.  It seemed like everything was going to be alright, but…I guess it wasn’t.”

“No, I guess not.”  Ashley’s voice sounds guarded and weak through the phone.

Daniel!  You have to show her your passion, man!

“So, how are the kids?”

“They’re fine.  Laura got a little sick from all the Halloween candy, but she’s fine now.  Jake is, well…Jake.  He needs his father.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Ash. I’m not sure what else-”

Ashley’s words burst through the line with emotion.  “Lucky, I want you to come home!  I know things aren’t perfect right now, but I’d rather have you here.  I just can’t stand this anymore!”

Daniel’s heart is pumping.  Emotion is rising up in his throat.  Tears choke his voice as he barely manages to say, “I’m on my way.”

Less than fifteen miles away, Ashley sits in the living room still holding the phone.  She thinks of the promise she made to John Ashford to give Daniel at least three weeks.  She thinks about the strange visits during her dreams and meditation, and how the angel, if that was what it was, had seemed so desperate. And how she felt it’s pain and sadness and hope in massive surges of emotional energy.  Yes, she had been given a role to play, but do angels and gurus know everything?  What about what wives know?  The only thing that matters to her is being with her husband, her soul mate.  She feels certain that her husband will soon rise up out of his fog and join her.  Although their moment of connection was brief, they had connected, truly connected.  For just a moment their hearts came together.  Their troubles fell away.  Their desire took form. The sting of her rejection was already fading.  After all, what exactly had she expected.  This was going to take time. Yes, she thinks with resolve, he needs to be here. My job is to motivate him, and I can motivate him right here. It will work.

When she first came to Susan and John’s meditation class, she was at the end of her rope.  She was losing hope for her marriage.  She was seeking solace for herself, something beyond traditional worship, prayer, church, or even religion.  She believed that if she could just find peace for herself, that she could share it with Daniel.  Then maybe, he could become the husband and father that she always believed he could be, but when the hand washing began she knew stronger action would be required.  Strangely enough, the solution seemed to come to her as if some force was already in motion to help.

And hadn’t he seemed different this week? She thinks of his eyes which had been so dim and were now becoming bright again.   She thinks of his touch and how it had felt so warm and loving.  Although her heart was wounded when Daniel withdrew from her, it was not yet broken.  She felt like she had been given reason to hope.  I could really feel him.  This Tin Man is growing a heart…no doubt about that. With this thought, Ashley chuckles to herself and begins to anticipate her husband’s embrace.

As Daniel pulls into his neighborhood, a powerful feeling of homecoming begins to overtake him.  His vision becomes blurred with tears.  She still loves me.  She still wants me. He is surprised by the intensity of this thought.  Have I been holding on to this all week? His fear of rejection crashes down on him like the rush of adrenaline that comes after nearly falling from a high ledge.  Spared.  Near miss. He breaks into a brief sweat.  She is taking him back.  But why?  Why now?  At this point, he isn’t sure he cares.  The note he left for John Bradford read,

John,

Thanks for letting me stay here.  Going home.  Not sure what’s changed, don’t really care.  See you Sunday.

Daniel

Moist with tears and perspiration, Daniel lugs his suitcase to the front door of his rented house.  Never has it felt more like a home to him than right now.  As he digs for his keys, the door unlocks and swings open.  He drops his suitcase, and fresh tears break out on his face.  The site of which hastens Ashley’s movement toward him.  Their embrace is fierce…explosive.  A circuit which was nearly shut off is now blistering hot with the free flow of beautiful emotional surging between them.  Daniel’s shirt quickly becomes wet with Ashley’s tears and warm from her breath as she buries her face into his chest.  For one timeless moment, they are locked together in their desperate need for each other.  Nothing separates them in this moment.

“Ashley, I love you.  I love you so much.  I miss you. I thought you’d never take me back!”
She responds with hushed spurts of relief and sorrowful ecstasy. “Oh, Lucky!  I hated being apart from you!  I need you!  I need you so much.  Just stay here with me.”

Daniel feels the pain of their brief but significant separation dissolving away between them.  He can feel the love and grace of his wife penetrating his core.  He squeezes even tighter until he is sure that his little wife could not possibly have any room for breath, but she squeezes him back even tighter.

At that moment, Daniel senses a small presence with them on the front porch.

“Daddy?  What are you doing here?  It’s not even Saturday,” queries Laura in a small, tired voice.

She is in a flannel night gown covered with little rosebuds.  Daniel pulls away and kneels down to her so that he can look through his tears right into her eyes.  “Daddy’s, coming home to stay, sweetie.”

“YEAH!”  she yells and jumps into his arms for a big hug.  When she lets go, she studies his face carefully for a moment and asks, “Does this mean that you’ve gotten to the Emerald City?”

Daniel and Ashley chuckle at Laura’s question, but only briefly because they can see the sincerity in her eyes.  Daniel looks up at Ashley then back at Laura.  “Well, let’s just say I’m in negotiations with the Wizard as we speak.”

“Huh?” says Laura as Daniel sweeps her up into his arms and the three of them come inside out of the early November chill.

“Alright.  Say goodnight to Daddy and get back to bed.”

Laura hugs Daniel and skips down the hall to her bedroom.  Then, with trepidation, Daniel knocks on Jacob’s shut door.

“Jacob?  It’s Dad.”

Nothing.  Jacob’s room is silent and shows no sign of welcome.

“Jake?”

Daniel quietly opens Jake’s door, turning the knob slowly so as not to wake him if he is asleep.  When he enters the room, Jake rolls over quickly so that his back is facing Daniel.  Daniel takes a deep breath, sits down at the edge of his son’s bed and puts his hand on his foot which he quickly pulls away.

“Jacob?  What’s the matter?”

Jacob’s face is hidden and he does not show any sign that he even hears Daniel.  Daniel just sits there for a minute or two not knowing what to say or do.  He wants Jacob to be happy about his homecoming like Laura is.  He wants to give him a big hug, but doesn’t even know where to begin.  He wonders how it got this way and how he can ever fix it.

“Listen.  I’m back.”

Still nothing.

“I’m moving back -”

“I know!” says Jacob, breaking his silence with a belligerent tone that dismays and annoys Daniel.

“Oh.  I guess you heard.”

For the first time, he realizes that Jake is crying, and his heart changes a little inside.

“Jake?  What’s going on?  What’s the matter?”

Nothing.

“Are you angry at me?  Do you not want me to come back?”

“I thought you were leaving us!  I thought you didn’t care about us anymore.  Why did you leave?”

And now Daniel is face to face with hurt, moist eyes.  Jacob’s cheeks are red hot and wet with tears.

“Like your mom said, I had some things to work on, but I’m back n-”

“Why couldn’t you work on it here!  We wouldn’t bother you!  We j-”  Jacob breaks off with a sob which he quickly tries to choke back.  He wipes his running nose with his pajamas sleeve and continues at a frantic pace, “We just want to be with you, Dad.  You don’t have to come to my stuff if you don’t want to.  It’s okay.  I just -”

“Jake.  I’m here.  I -” Before he even has time to think about it, Daniel is pulling his son into his arms and, to his surprise, his son is burying himself there just like he used to as a little boy.  Together they cry as Daniel rocks his son and pats his back gently.  Distances are lessened, bridges are crossed and the coldness that separated them begins to thaw and melt away.  He has done it.  In one mindless move of passion and love, he has done it.  He has broken through the silence and resentment and neglect to give his son the blessings that he had been withholding from him.  Why did he let it go this far?  How could he withhold it for even one day?  At that moment, as he holds his son in unconditional love, he vows never to allow anything to come between them again.

As Daniel tucks his son into bed, he kisses him on the forehead, brushes back his wavy hair and offers a nighttime blessing of “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Come on, Dad.  I’m not -”

“I know, I know, I know.  You’re not a little kid anymore.”  Jesus, he really isn’t.

Before Daniel closes the door he offers one more blessing that he knows no son is ever too young to hear. “I love you, Jacob.”

“I love you too, Dad.  See you in the morning light.”

And the blessing is complete.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 12: Blunt Instrument

Baby I think tonight
We can take what was wrong
And make it right
I need you so
Baby it’s all I know
That you’re half of the flesh
And blood makes me whole
I need you so

Take these broken wings
And learn to fly again
And learn to live so free
And when we hear the voices sing
The book of love will open up
And let us in

Mr. Mister, “Broken Wings”

“Mmmmmaaaaaan!  You like some kinda’ superhero or something!” says Khan on the elevator at the end of the work day.  “You on fire today!  I don’t know!” he exclaims mouth grinning, head shaking.   “MAN!”

Daniel responds laughing, “What do you mean?” but he knows exactly what his Bengali buddy is talking about.  His performance on the bench this Tuesday after Halloween was nothing short of inspired.  For their skills inventory project, he interviewed project managers, consultants, and office staff with gleaming eyes and confidence.  He extracted system requirements from his colleagues with skill and precision calling everybody by name.  He learned more names and spoke with more people from his company in one day than in seven years of working at Maxtech.

He also seemed to have undergone a dramatic physical transformation.  His posture is strong and sturdy.  He looks as if he has grown two or three inches in height.  His movement is sure and easy.  His face captivates the attention of everyone he encounters.  His luminous, hazel eyes will linger in the minds of both men and women as they navigate their way home.

He especially caught the attention of the busty beauty, Samantha, at the front desk.  Daniel, however, is completely oblivious to the spell he is casting on her.

“You’re changing or something.  You used to be like a…like a…”  Khan begins to pantomime the word he is struggling to find.  He lets his shoulders slouch forward and puts a clown-like frown on his face.”

“Pussy?” offers Daniel.

Khan bursts into laughter.  “Yes!”

“Thanks a lot man.  So, you’re saying I’m not a pussy anymore?”

“You know what?  Everybody know that you really good at your job.  The best! But nobody want to be around you.  That’s going to change.  I can see it.”  Khan’s face turns sincere and gravely serious as he looks Daniel in the eyes.  “I’m proud of you, man”

“Come on!” protests Daniel.

“No, I REALLY mean it.  You becoming the man that Allah intend you to be.”

For a moment, they stand in silence, as Khan’s words penetrate Daniel to the core.  Ding.  They walk together off the elevator into the expansive marble and brass dominated lobby.

“Take it easy,” says Khan.

“Yeah, take it easy.”

Daniel spends the car ride back to the Bradford house recalling and examining his seemingly impossible adventure with Shanti.  As is often his custom, he speaks out loud to himself as he drives.

“Where do I even begin?  How about let’s start with reality.  Reality. That’s a tricky one.  The reality is that I sat down to meditate at 11:00 p.m. and got up at about 2:00 a.m.  Jesus!  My legs are still sore.  But what about the ‘in between’?  Dreams?  Did my mind invent this?  I’m not that inventive, am I?

“Daniel, why don’t you just start with the story, ok?  Just tell me what happened.

“OK.  I started using the word ‘Shanti’ as a mantra.

“Daniel?  Why don’t you explain to all our listeners out

there what a mantra is?

“It’s just a word or phrase that you chant over and over again to calm the mind.  But I tried something different.  I started stretching it out until it was just a single, sustained note  – ‘SHAAAAAAAAAAAAA’.   You see?”

Daniel continues this dialog, combing over every detail, until he reaches the Bradford driveway.  The weather is mild as he walks up to the front door still pondering the anomalistic events of his last night’s meditation.  Instrument of Peace…Is it a special calling? Or should everyone be Instruments of Peace?  Am I going to become some sort of saint who leaves behind his worldly life?

He gets to work in the now familiar kitchen.  Ancient methods of peace embedded in an ancient prayer?  Let’s thaw some sirloin.  He said it will be like an instruction manual for my training.  Mushrooms, onions, garlic, sour cream.  Instructions for what?  Making peace.  Is this shit for real?  Beef broth…beef broth…beef broth…ah, yes.  And…egg noodles…gotcha!  Who were those people?  Where was I?  It seemed real enough…except for the invisibility part. Oh, and Shanti walking into that guy’s body.  How about Shanti PERIOD?!  Dr. Collins would shit a brick if I told him about him!  Butter.  Cognac?  What the hell…a little cognac for the dish and a little for…it’s kind of like being a peeping Tom really.   How’s this whole thing going to work?  DAMN!  John spares no expense, this Cognac is the GOOD shit!

Daniel’s mind settles as he sips his Cognac and begins focusing on cooking.

After enjoying a well-prepared Beef Stroganoff, he begins thinking about meditation.  He decides to get the kitchen in order, call home, then meditate.  He brings his dishes to the kitchen and begins loading.  Once he is satisfied that everything is spic and span, he heads for the phone in the living room.  He dials.  An unfamiliar voice picks up.

“Roberts residence,” comes a young woman’s voice.

“Yes.  Is Ashley available?” asks Daniel, somewhat confused.

“Sorry.  She’s out for the evening.  She said she won’t be in until late.”

“Really.  Well, tell her that her husband called, will you?”  His confusion turns to suspicion.

“Oh!  Sure, Mr. Roberts.”

“Thanks. Bye.”  Daniel doesn’t wait for a reply before hanging up, nor does he remember to speak with his children.

Could be nothing.  A night out with the girls.  A movie with a friend.  No big deal. Images of Ashley smiling and laughing with some other guy over dinner flash in his head.  Just settle down there, Lucky!  Let’s not jump to conclusions.  She -”

Daniel’s racing thoughts are interrupted by the door bell.

He looks at his watch. Jesus.  Who could that be?

The fact that only John, Khan, and Ashley know he is living at the house and therefore must probably be one of these three people escapes Daniel for the moment.  He has no idea who could be ringing the doorbell.  Perhaps a late-comer trick-or-treater he thinks.

He is entirely unprepared for the rush of blood to his midsection that will lift his dick from zero to ninety degrees in 4.6 seconds as soon as he opens the door.  The sight that greets him is his wife, Ashley, in the same Cat Woman costume from Halloween Night but with one small but potent change.  The front zipper is down just far enough to reveal Ashley’s intoxicating cleavage.  She is leaning with a raised arm against the entryway wall in a way that more fully accentuates her curves.  Her body is visibly throbbing with sexual desire.  She stands as if it is aching with powerful anticipation.

Before Daniel can find words, she walks toward him, hips shifting smoothly as they press tightly against the latex feline body suit in a way that ignites a fierce passion inside of him.

She is fantasy made manifest, desire in full blossom, a goddess of sexual power.

The first kiss is an eruption of hot, wet flesh between them as Ashley’s lips meet his hungry mouth.  She presses and rubs her body against his as they devour each other with lips, teeth, and tongue.  He recognizes her taste and fragrance from their very first kiss in college and his arousal is quickened.  His body is roaring with desire for her.  Quickly, he slams the front door and guides her by the hand up the stairs, but before they reach the first landing they are down, their bodies undulating against each other and reaching desperately through the bonds of fabric and seam.  Surprising even himself, he lifts her small body up in his arms and sweeps her to his bedroom and onto the sturdy bed.  As he lays on top of her, still clothed, he can feel the softness between her legs begin to give way to him and the swollen flesh of her breasts pushing out of her soon to be lost costume.

Daniel, feeling new ease and confidence, sits back on his heels while she remains on her back before him.  With one hand he reaches around her hip and grasps her firm buttocks and with the other unzips the front of her costume.  Her milky flesh is revealed by the moonlight pouring through the balcony doors.  She reaches up to him and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt while he delves his hands into the half-removed costume and grabs her around the waist with both hands.  Her skin is soft and hot to the touch.  She arches her body toward him and he bends over her, kissing her soft belly.  A shiver runs through her and her breasts, now fully exposed, express their full bloom as her skin pulls tight around her hardened nipples.  She receives the moist caress of his tongue with a deep moan.  Her body twists and grinds against him.

Again, he sits up and works the buttons on his shirt while she moves for his belt taking time to caress the eager hardness under his pants.  After his belt is off, Daniel gets to his feet next to the bed to remove his shirt while Ashley sits up and slides to the edge.  He eases out of his shirt as she unbuttons and unzips his pants.  Slowly, she pulls down his underwear revealing his sturdy erection.  Daniel closes his eyes and feels her hot, wet mouth on his stomach and his erection tightens even further.  He helps her slip out of the Cat Woman costume, first removing the fuzzy ears, then the latex suit, which is warm and pliable from the rising temperature of her firm body.

Now entirely naked, they  meet each other in the middle of the bed sitting face to face up on their knees.  Her warm hands wrap around his stiff, seeping cock as he groans in ecstasy.  As she grasps hungrily at him, his body fully awakened, something else begins to awaken.

It starts with a thought, Wow, this is really going to happen, and without realizing it, he is slowly detaching from her.  She lies back down on the bed and waits for him to follow, but he doesn’t.  Suddenly, he feels as if he can’t get enough air in his lungs.  He breathes deep and quick to try to keep from suffocating.  His heart pounds faster and harder.  His hands, miraculously pure and smooth, feel thick and dirty.  His heart pounds faster and his chest tightens.

“Honey?” comes Ashley’s voice, barely audible through the rush of blood in his head and the pounding of his own heart.

“No, baby.  No!  You can do this.  Everything’s going to be okay!”  says Ashley, desperation rising in her voice.

In a rush of panic, Daniel flies to the bathroom and slams on the hot water.  He is gasping and shaking as he grabs a bar of soap out of his suitcase.  It’s not hot enough!  Come on!! He rubs his hands with the soap vigorously until steam is rising from the sink basin.  He continues as his hands get redder.

Ashley steps to the doorway.  “Honey, what can I do?  What do you need? Just tell me.  I’m here for you!”  she pleads.

“Just go.”

“What?”

“JUST GO!!” he screams, humiliation rising in his chest.

“Daniel, I’m going to stay right here with you!”

“LEAVE!!!”  His scream is choked by sobs of grief and pain which he quickly tries to shove back.  Back in.  Back to where they were before passion and before peace.

“What are you so FUCKING afraid of?!” she screams back at him, but he is no longer listening.

He does not notice when she leaves wearing his clothes, hot tears streaming down her face.

The next few hours are a blur of mind-numbing hand washing and shoe polishing before Daniel’s head finally hits the pillow.  Although the shadow creature from the previous night’s dreams looms even larger in his dreams tonight, he is no more aware of it than he was before.  He has no memory of it when he awakens the following morning, drained, hands burning and stained, defeated.

He spends the day isolated in his cube checking his email and the news.  He will not be drawn out be by anyone, not even Khan.  “Let’s work on it tomorrow, I have some other things I need to take care of today,” is his standard response.

“Whatever, man,”  says Khan after several attempts to coax him out.

After work, he drives to the counseling clinic for his Wednesday appointment.

He sits in the waiting room thumbing through Car and Driver, checking his shoes, and wishing he were invisible.

“Ready?” comes the familiar voice of Dr. Collins.

Daniel steps into the hall with him.  Collins gestures toward the coffee.  Daniel shakes his head and walks automatically to the office leaving the doctor behind with his hand still out and eyebrows raised.

Sitting in his familiar leather chair, Daniel studies the motivational poster in front of him.  The eagle still soars and the caption still reads the same: “Until you spread your wings, you’ll have no idea how far you can fly”.  Before, it had just been a part of the therapeutic landscape, a minimally provocative inspirational adage.  Now the eagle seemed to be glaring at him with burning judgment.

Daniel doesn’t react when Dr. Collin’s soft knock resonates through the closed door.  He walks in quietly and sits across from him and says,  “I gotta be honest, man.  You look like shit warmed over.” His grating, chainsaw voice is without its usual humor.

Daniel nods without expression.

“Why don’t we start with your assignment:  passion.”  He sits back and throws both of his hands out wide and raises his eyebrows in a way that says “You’re up, buddy.  Let’s hear it,” then anchors them back behind his head.

Daniel doesn’t know what to say.  He studies his shoes for a moment and then shakes his head.  “It…it uh…” He takes a deep breath then lets it out hard. “It didn’t work out so well.”

Collins glances at Daniel’s shoes and hands then sits forward in his chair, leans his forearms on his knees, and begins rubbing his hands together.  “Daniel, I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe some medication for you that should help you out some.”

“Ok,” says Daniel, not looking up from his shoes.  Fine.  Just drug me up.

“We’ll start with some Prozac for depression and some Klonopin for anxiety.  This combination has proven to be effective in treating OCD and other anxiety disorders, especially when it is combined with long-term cognitive-behavioral therapy.  You’ll need to set up an appointment with our psychiatrist.  Daniel, I think we ought to talk about this, buddy.  Don’t you?”

“She kicked me out.  I’m living at a friend’s house.”

“Ok.  Talk about that.

“I did some cursing, we started kissing, I didn’t know what to do, and I had a panic attack.”  Daniel rubs his hands uncomfortably.

“Cursing?”

“Yeah.  I told her what you called me last week.

“What did I call you?”

“A ratfucker.”

Collins laugh is like sandpaper. “That’s right, a ratfucker.”  He chuckles more as he shakes his head.  “This turned her on?”

“Yeah, I guess she hasn’t heard me cuss for a while.”

“I’m still not sure I get it, Danny.  Act it out for me.”  He stands up and gestures for Daniel to get up with him.

“You have got to be kidding.  I didn’t think you guys really did this kind of stuff.  Come on, this is -”

“Ok, pretend I’m Ashley, your dear little wifey.  So, honey…” he begins in a grotesque, falsetto attempt at a woman’s voice, “How was your session today?” He motions again for Daniel to get up.

Daniel shakes his head, takes a deep breath and gets up.

“Hey there…um…Ashley.  Dr. Collins called me a ratfucker.”

“A what?” Dr. Collins acting is worthy only of melodrama.

“A ratfucker.”

In his own voice Collins whispers, “Is that it?”

Daniel makes a rolling motion with his hand to indicate that they should keep going.

“Why did he call you a ratfucker, honey?”

“I don’t know, but I think he’s right. I’m a GOD DAMN PUSSY LOVING RATFUCKER!” shouts Daniel right into Dr. Collins’ surprised face.

“FUCKIN A!  GOD DAMN FUCK – ING A, Danny boy!  Okay!”  he sits down again, “I think I’m beginning to see the picture.  You  showed her.”

Daniel is confused.  He shakes his head and says, “What?  What did I show her?”

“Your passion, man.  You did it.  You showed her your passion.  Who cares if you jimmy-fucked it afterward!  You did it.  So she kicked you out.  Do you wanna know how many times my ol’ lady kicked me out?!”

Daniel shrugs.

“My ol’ lady kicked me out so many times that I have a women’s size seven-and-half asshole!”  Dr. Collins roars with laughter at his new joke, and   Daniel cannot help but laugh with him.

“You’re GODDAMN RIGHT that’s funny!”

Daniel laughs even more.  He laughs so hard that he doubles over and begins to shed tears.  For a moment he is transported.  There is nothing but the laughter.  He feels his heart begin to warm again.  His emotions begin to flood back to him.  First, gratitude for Dr. Roger Collins.  Next, the pain of humiliation and failure.  Then the ache of desire for his wife.  He wants so badly to go home and to be a good husband.  The feeling of loss and regret penetrates his very core.  His laughter turns to sobs of pain and sorrow. His crying takes him beyond time.  His feelings fill every cell of his body and flow free out.  When his laughter and tears are finally spent, he looks up and sees that Dr. Collins is sitting in front of him with a glass of water and a box of tissues, pride beaming from his face.

“You’re on your way, compadre.  On your way.”

Daniel takes a tissue to wipe his eyes and nose then reaches for the glass of water that Collins is holding out for him.  “What do I do now?”

Dr. Collins sits back and begins going through the same fine-tuning process as last time.  He focuses on a spot in the distance and takes a deep breath.  “Daniel, now that you are entering the world of emotions, your life is going to change pretty dramatically.  This is tough stuff for you, Danny, but you’re hanging in there.  As you become more willing to see life through emotional eyes, you’ll become more able to face what is causing your oddball behavior.”

Daniel looks Dr. Collins directly in the eyes in an act of defiance toward his normally sheepish behavior, eyes still stinging from the surfacing pain of his last night’s passion disaster and says,  “Dr. Collins? What I am I up against here?”

“In your case, Daniel, I think it is fear.”

Fear

Fear? Fear of what? What could I possibly be afraid of? ponders Daniel on his short drive back to the Bradford house.  I’m not really that fearful a person.  I mean, I’m not afraid of heights.  I’m not afraid of spiders.  Not water, crowds, scary movies, roller coasters, dogs, abandonment, germs, ghosts…ok, ghosts are a little creepy, but I don’t think the reason I can’t screw my wife is that I’m worried Casper’s going to jump my ass…I just don’t get it.

His thoughts turn to Ashley and their close encounter as he pokes at his dinner.  His visit with Dr. Collins prevented a total emotional shutdown, and now he is wishing he could stop the feelings.  His heart feels as raw and damaged as his hands.  Why did she have to come over last night?  Why couldn’t she have waited?  She should’ve known that it would end that way. Fresh tears well up in his already swollen eyes.  She should’ve known…

Peace, Daniel, you need peace.

He leaves his dinner, unfinished, and heads for the meditation room where he hopes to leave his misery behind.

He struggles at first to calm his mind.  Breathing deeply, he invites the Energy to flow through his restless body.  At first dim, the light dawns above his head like the first star to penetrate the early evening sky. Slowly, his consciousness rises up until he is bathed in golden light. Shanti…Shaaaaaantiiii…Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaantiiiiiiiiiii… he calls until his mind can sustain a single pitch, a single point of focus.  First come the hands, then the face.  Shanti returns, and Daniel is finally comforted.

“Daniel, before we begin our training, there is something I want to say to you.”  Shanti’s voice is like a warm breeze, soothing and peaceful.

“Ok,” replies Daniel, still in awe of this remarkable being.

“Meow.”

“Pardon?”

“Meeeooow,” repeats Shanti in his best cat voice before he begins to shake with laughter.

“OK. I get it. Cat Woman. Very funny.  Ha ha,” says Daniel, not amused.

“I didn’t realize,” titters Shanti, “you were so afraid of cats [possible edit: a little pussy]!”

Daniel stares in disbelief, speechless.

“What’s the matter?”  Now, Shanti’s laughter is uncontrollable.  It begins to surge into Daniel. “What’s the…” howls Shanti struggling to get his words out. His laughter turns in to high-pitched squeaking sounds.  He raises a finger to encourage Daniel to give him a moment to settle himself down until, finally, he composes himself enough to speak.  Daniel still stares in utter confusion.  “What’s the matter, Daniel?  Cat got your tongue?”  The roars of laughter that follow from Shanti overwhelm Daniel until he too is laughing and the both of them begin to take flight.

Together they soar off into the night.  Daniel feels time slipping away until he can no longer distinguish between a second, a minute, or an hour.  His awareness reaches into the more subtle qualities of the flight.  He can simultaneously feel his departure, the flight, and his arrival.  The feeling of his arrival, however, becomes stronger until the departure and the flight eventually fall away from his mind.  Again, Shanti faces him with a gently smile.

“Daniel, let’s establish some ground rules here,” he says.  “First, you can choose anyone you see to inspire.  It can be someone directly involved in the conflict or it can be a passerby, as long as it is just one person.  Second, you must be in and out before the person you choose knows what’s happening.  We’re not going for possession here, just inspiration, so limit it to a single act of inspiration:  a feeling, a word, an action.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Are you saying I’m going to step into someone’s body like you did last time?”

“An Instrument of Peace, just like we discussed, Daniel.”

“Ok. So how does this work,” says Daniel eagerly.

“You’ll figure it out when it’s time.  Remember the prayer?”

“St. Francis?”

“Yes.  You’re going to have an opportunity to bring peace by following the prayer.  You’re going to see hatred, injury, doubt, despair, darkness, sadness, someone in need of giving, someone in need of love, someone in need of forgiveness…any one of these situations that need the balancing power of peace.  Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve got it,” responds Daniel with growing confidence.  “I just have one question.”

Shanti nods indicating his openness to answering a question.

“Are we dealing with reality here?”

Shanti is quiet for a moment before he answers.  “Does it matter?”

“It seems pretty important.”

“When you dressed as Batman as a child, did it matter to you whether or not it was real?”

Daniel is thoughtful for a moment.  “No.  I guess reality wasn’t really the point.”

“Exactly.  Reality isn’t the point here, Daniel, but to answer your question: yes, this is real.  Now let’s say the prayer together.”

Instead of bowing heads and closing eyes, their eyes remain in deep contact as they pray, “Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace.  Where there is hatred, let me sow love.  Where there is injury…”  With every word of the prayer, Daniel can feel himself being drawn into Shanti and Shanti being drawn into himself until he can no longer distinguish himself from the Guide.  Not until the prayer closes do they become separate.  Then Shanti gestures for Daniel to look in front of them at the scene that is slowly taking shape.

They are standing near a large, circular fountain partially shaded by the tall buildings that surround it.  Men and women in business attire sit all around it and on park benches chatting and eating lunch.  One figure seems out of place.  He is a black man with very dark skin.  His hair is unkempt.  He is tall and dangerously thin, his clothes ragged.  He is shoeless.  He does not beg, he just kind of hangs around.  A man tells him to “get lost!”.  As Daniel and Shanti move closer, Daniel sees that the street dweller’s eyes are welling with tears.  He is desperate, dejected, unwanted, human garbage.

This man is in need. For it is in giving that we receive, thinks Daniel as he looks for his opportunity, a moment for inspiration.  He heads for the man who had tried to shoo the offender away, not quite sure what to do, but going ahead anyway.  He feels a strong resistance to moving into the shadows of the buildings and manages to find a path in the sunshine. Instinctively, he begins chanting one with the man, one with the man, one with the man while extending his emotional energy toward him.  He is middle-aged, white, balding, and big in the belly.  In an instant, just as he believes that he might collide with him, he is inside looking out through the man’s eyes.  I did it!  I’m in! thinks Daniel.

“Did what?  In what?  What the fu-” mutters the man to himself, confused.

At that moment, Daniel looks at the homeless man through this strangers eyes and feels pity for him and reaches back around for the man’s wallet.  One action, one thought…ok, I’m outta here! And he’s out.

“Outta here?!  Who’s talking to me?” says the man looking around him, but his eyes settle back onto the homeless man and he walks toward, him wallet in hand.  For a moment, their eyes meet.  The homeless man quickly breaks eye contact and looks down.  As the business man pulls out a five dollar bill, the homeless man makes a sudden lunge for the wallet.  He grabs it and runs.

“Hey!  Get back here!  Get the fuck back here you goddam piece of shit!”

He runs about twenty meters, but he’s not fast enough.  He stands panting and gasping for breath, wallet gone.  The crowd around him stares for just a moment before returning to there sandwiches, hot pizza slices, and Chinese takeout.

Daniel returns to Shanti where they both watch the scene dissolve while the man curses and returns to his chili dog which he throws on the ground.  Shanti is shrieking with laughter while Daniel looks on, confused and dismayed.  What went wrong?

“You are supposed to be a peace instrument, not a blunt instrument!”  Shanti laughs harder still.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 11: The Prayer of Saint Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O, Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

“The Peace Prayer”, St. Francis of Assisi

To Daniel, the experience of what Shanti would later call Quantum Flight is like riding a wave of intense emotion.  His bodily senses cease so that he cannot later recall or describe the experience in terms of sight, sound, touch, smell, or taste.  The only specific detail that he can discern of this first trip is the impression that Shanti is howling with laughter so immense that Daniel fears it would have shattered his eardrums were he able to hear it.

The flight is brief and they don’t exactly land anywhere.  The powerful thrust Daniel was feeling diminishes until it is nothing but a subtle vibration, like a car in neutral.  Slowly he regains his senses, but what is there to sense?  He is no longer holding hands with Shanti.  His new environment is indistinct.  He sees color, light, and movement but he cannot yet interpret its meaning.  He isn’t even sure whether he is sitting or standing.

Daniel feels a now familiar surge of emotion and hears Shanti’s warm voice.  “I can’t believe you fell for your own favorite joke, Daniel.  I am grateful that you did not deny me the pleasure!”

“Yeah. What’s that about?  What just happened?”

“I will say little about it now except that to exist in a quantum state requires a tremendous amount of emotional energy.  A good joke can release a big enough burst of energy to send you up! You used to know that, Daniel.  You used to know quite a bit.”

Daniel can see that Shanti is standing next to him grinning as if he is barely holding on to an exciting secret.  I guess we are standing, then thinks Daniel.  Shanti gestures for Daniel to look in front of them.  Gradually, just as Shanti’s words and image had emerged, their new surroundings are taking shape while Daniel looks on in profound amazement.

He hears a man and a woman screaming and shouting.  It’s a heated argument that is fast reaching a breaking point.  He is standing in a small apartment living room with a small, young woman wearing a formal gown whose eyes are flashing with anger and pain.  A large, black case with a long neck is leaning against a shabby couch. At the moment, she is silent.  A man’s voice is shouting a stream of obscenities from another room.  She screams back at him, “You FUCKING ASSHOLE!  I always support you!  How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I only missed it because my Grandma needed me to stay with her! FUUUUUUUUCK!”

Daniel is so disoriented that he can do nothing but watch.

“You don’t give a FUCK about my shit!” roars a tall, thick featured man as he storms into the cramped living room.

“This is not about YOUR shit!  Tonight was about MY shit!  Quit trying to turn this around on me.  I’ve been telling you for weeks about this recital!  You should have been there!”  she shouts.

“Well, you should have thought about that before you missed my awards ceremony!  GOD! What a fucking bitch!”

Daniel shifts uncomfortably.

“Don’t worry,” says Shanti quietly, “they can’t see you.”

“If you were so pissed off about it, why didn’t you tell me?” she fires back.

“You should have known!”

“I’m not a fucking mind reader, Pete!”

“Now watch this,” says Shanti, eyes gleaming as he steps toward the young man.  Just when it looks as if he will walk right into the man, Shanti disappears.  The man looks at Daniel for a split second, then looks at the woman.

Did he see me? wonders Daniel.

Her eyes and nose are red and swollen with tears.  The young man is silent.  He looks as if he wants to shout, but he seems to be at a loss for words.  The woman looks surprised and perplexed by his uncharacteristic silence.

“This was one of the biggest nights of my life, and you totally blew it off!” she begins.  He is still silent.  He just looks at her.  Shanti is nowhere to be seen.

“You KNOW how important my music is to me.”  She grasps the case that Daniel recognizes as a cello case.  “This debut should have been one of the happiest moments of my life, but you weren’t there to share it with me.”  Her voice is quieter and trembling with fresh tears.

“When you didn’t come, it-”

The man looks as if he is released from some invisible bond. “I really hurt your feelings, didn’t I,” he says with sincerity.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Jules.  I should have been there.”

She looks into his eyes, which are no longer hard with anger.  For a moment, they are both silent.  Something is passing between them.

Where there is Injury, thy Pardon, Lord

She takes a deep breath and lets it out hard. “Honey, it’s okay,” she softens as she steps into his embrace.  “You must have been pretty pissed off, too.”

Daniel feels a familiar warm hand on his shoulder as he watches the scene around them begin to melt away.

There is no return flight per se.  Daniel can feel himself slowly flow down the Stream until he is sitting again across from his guide.

Daniel quickly recovers from the shock of being transported into the apartment of two people he has never seen before in his life. “Holy Shit!  What just happened?!  Was that for real?” Daniel asks excitedly.

“I’ve given you a glimpse of what your training will be like.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Tell me what you saw, Daniel.”

Daniel quickly searches his memory of the event and says, “Uh…there was a guy and a girl fighting.  She was mad because he didn’t come to her concert. He was mad at her for not coming to his award ceremony.  You disappeared.  He stopped talking.  She said what she needed to say.  He apologized.  They made up.”

“Ahhh…spoken with all the emotional sensitivity of a bull elephant.” He chuckles lightly.  “Do you know what inspire means?  And don’t mention those ridiculous motivational posters with eagles and track stars.”

Daniel thinks for a moment and goes with the obvious, “That’s when you see something great and it gives you the courage to strive to achieve it.”

“You ought to write for the poster people,” he retorts with a gentle smile.  “That’s correct, but that’s not what was I looking for.  The word inspire is related to the words breath, wind, and spirit. All of these words are ancient ways of talking about our Source or God or our Soul.  Are you with me?”

Daniel nods, recalling various etymological sermons cleverly preached from the pulpit of the little church of his childhood on words like love, spirit, and peace.

“Inspiration is more than you might think, Daniel.  Inspiration is the immediate influence of God.  As God’s humble servant, it is my job to be that influence.  The woman was deeply hurt by her husband’s absence at her important event.  The man could not hear that.  He could only hear his own hurt.  I entered the young man as a breath enters the lungs and inspired him to shut his yap long enough to listen to his wife.  Listening was the necessary first step to bringing peace between them.”

“Is that what you are going to train me to do?  Make peace?”

Shanti once again takes Daniel’s hands into his own.  Daniel can feel unconditional love flowing to him.  “You are to be an Instrument of Peace, Daniel.”

“Like in the Prayer of St. Francis?”

“The very one.”

“Wow.  Then was St. Francis one, too?”

Shanti nods.  “The Peace Prayer holds a powerful and ancient technique for peace making.  It will serve as your instruction manual in our work together.”

Before Daniel has a chance to ask more questions, Shanti begins to fade away with a final loving smile on his radiant face.  Daniel once more begins to flow down the Stream until he feels the weight of his own body and the support of the chair beneath it.

Daniel sits for a moment, relishing the blissful state that follows meditation.  Eventually, though, his mind returns to the physical world, to the house, to his family, and to sleep.

An Instrument of Peace…hmmm.

[Author's Note:  Daniel needs to think back on Shanti being with him during the tractor incident]

As he sips a glass of water in the kitchen, he sees that it is nearly two in the morning.  Three and a half hours?! How is that possible? He turns the issue of time over in his head for a few minutes and considers the possibility that his meditation experiences must be like dreams in that a person can pass the entire night and only remember a few minutes of dreaming.  Then again, he thinks, there are dreams that seem to last a lifetime.

Daniel falls asleep easily on this Halloween night having faced his fears and gained a new sense of purpose, but nothing is easy about the sleep that follows.  Daniel’s dreams are haunted by a dark figure.  It’s presence is subtle and illusive, and constant.  It watches from shadows.  It very nearly is a shadow, cast in the shape of its surroundings; a person here, a building there, a car driving by, it is sustained by the absence of light.  It does not thrust itself into the foreground.  It does not confront.  It holds it’s ground quietly, waiting patiently and menacingly.  Although Daniel will not remember it when he awakes, he will not soon escape it’s cool gaze and powerful presence.

The Reconciliation: Chapter 10 – The Guide

Why try? I know why
The feeling inside me says it’s time I was gone
Clear head, new life ahead
I want to be king now not just one more pawn
[Chorus:]
Fly by night, away from here
Change my life again
Fly by night, goodbye my dear
My ship isn’t coming and I just can’t pretend

Moon rise, thoughtful eyes
Staring back at me from the window beside
No fright or hindsight
Leaving behind that empty feeling inside
[Chorus]
Start a new chapter
Find what I’m after
It’s changing every day
The change of a season
Is enough of a reason
To want to get away
Quiet and pensive
My thoughts apprehensive
The hours drift away
Leaving my homeland
Playing a lone hand
My life begins today
[Chorus]

Rush (Geddy Lee) – “Fly By Night”

When his phone alarm sings out the opening strains of Puccini’s “Nessun Dorma” the next morning, Daniel is somewhat relieved to be returning to familiar territory.  I may be on the bench, but at least I know where to sit. Before his next thought even occurs, he is on the toll way approaching downtown Dallas.

He’s listening to the local NPR station morning news program when it turns to a feature on the battle over Halloween at Susan B. Anthony Elementary School in Idaho Springs, Colorado.  Halloween!  Today is Halloween! For a moment he is depressed about his lack of Halloween spirit, no movies, no haunted houses, no graveyards, no ghost stories.  Then his mind flashes back to the image that drove him to drink himself to sleep last night and his mood shifts.

Why is this happening to me? ponders Daniel as he enters the parking garage across from his building.  HOW is this happening to me, come to think of it?  First this guy with the hands, then the peeping creeper.

As he steps into the home office of his consulting company, thoughts of possible causes for his experience, “relaxed, semi-hypnotic states” or “dream-like manifestations of deep-seated feelings”, are simmering in his head.

“Good morning, Mr. Roberts,” comes a silky voice from the front desk, startling Daniel out of his thoughts.

Daniel, experiences an utter loss of speech. What am I doing?! Why the hell did I come in this way?

“Uh…good morning, Samantha,” replies Daniel, only slightly regaining his capacity for speech.

“We don’t usually see you up front.  Did you need something?”  Her brown eyes peer inquisitively at him, unwavering and warmed by her playful smile.

Daniel quickly invents a story.  He doesn’t want Samantha to guess why he avoids the front desk or that he avoids it at all.

“Oh, yes.  I just need to update my resume a bit.  I picked up a few new skills on my last contract. Could you give me a copy of my current one?”  Out of habit, he stares at his shoes while her ample cleavage performs the series of tantalizing exhibitions necessary for her to retrieve his file.  Her silky blouse alone is enough to trigger any number of compulsive responses from Daniel, but the smooth, rounded curves of the twenty-three-year-old administrative assistant peeking out at him from beneath it is enough to ruin him for the day.  This is just the sort of scenario he has been trying to avoid by taking the employee entrance since returning to the home office.              “Here we are.  Wow! Your resume is huge, Daniel.  I’m really surprised you’re on the bench at all.”

Her downshift to ‘Daniel’ and something about the way she says the word ‘huge’ causes Daniel to blush.  He grabs his unneeded document, offers a quick thanks and makes a bee-line to cubicle C12.

“Ahhh…home sweet home,” mutters Daniel as he pokes the power button to his PC with his index finger.  While the system is booting, he makes his way to the coffee station.  Without thinking he pours a hot cup of coffee, stirs in sugar and creamer, and returns to his cube.  It’s not until his factory default settings Windows desktop pops up into his monitor and he has taken a few sips of his coffee that Daniel notices the remarkable changes that are occurring.

The first thing he notices is the wonderful flavor of his coffee, just as he used to take it in his freshman year of college: sweetened and lightened.  He looks at the creamy, golden brown color and notes how much more enticing it is to him than the black coffee he’s been choking down for years.  He looks around to see if anyone might have noticed, then shrugs thinking Who gives a shit what I put in my coffee?

He notices that he didn’t bring his briefcase.  Daniel is now really enjoying himself.  What the fuck do I need a briefcase for?  I don’t have briefs!  I don’t even fucking WEAR briefs? He chuckles out loud to himself.  I have never ONCE brought a piece of paper to or from work!

Then the most glorious revelation of all dawns on him:  I survived an encounter with Samantha.  I’m not checking email, checking news sites, washing hands, checking shoes…nothing!

He even takes a moment to recall her young, firm shape and pleasing manner and gets a nice Monday morning how-do-you-do below the belt.

Also without thinking, he begins skimming through his resume.  He hasn’t updated it for nearly two years.  He bumps up his years of experience numbers for various skills by a year or two.  He adds some new project experience summaries to account for his previous three contracts.  He adds new skills to his skill set.

There.  That’s much better.

Then he heads back up to the front desk.

“Samantha, I’ve made some changes here.”  He looks her directly in the eye and his growing confidence does not go unnoticed.  “Will you please update my file?”

She studies him for a moment, then her mouth grows into a silky smile.  “Sure, Daniel.  I’ll take care of it right away.  And I’ll make sure that Mr. Clark gets a fresh copy.”

Charlie Clark, Daniel’s manager, regularly reviews his staff’s skill sets in order to properly leverage them with the company’s clients.

“Thanks, Samantha.  I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” she purrs.

Upon returning to his desk, he is greeted warmly by Khan.

“Hey! It’s the focaccia-man!”

“Hey, Khan.  What’s up?”

“Man!  Everybody love you, Daniel.  You gonna have to come to every party now.  People are not going to have a party without you!” exclaims Khan in his rapid but broken English.

“Come on,” replies Daniel, modestly, “You guys do just fine by yourself.  You don’t need me hanging around.”

“No.  You gotta understand.  They never seen a white guy like you.  You gonna be coming to parties, weddings…everything!  Tareq say he gonna find a Bengali woman for you.  Eh?” adds Khan with a sly nod and grin.  “He say you deserve to have a woman who take real good care of you.”  Khan winks making a clucking sound in his cheek and smiles broadly.

Daniel shakes his head and laughs freely.  “Tell Tareq that I’m being taken very good care of already, but that I’m flattered by the offer.”

Khan’s eyes widen as he holds up a finger and says, “I almost forgot.  Very important.  I gotta little surprise. Special for you!”  He pulls out a small Tupperware container from a plastic grocery store bag.  “Tareq’s wife made this for you.  She Babi to you now.  That mean she like your brother’s wife, like a sister-in-law.”

“Babi?” asks Daniel needing a little clarification.

“Yeah, we all call our good friend wife Babi.”  He hands Daniel the container.  “This a real tasty sweet for you.  It called goolab jamun.“

Daniel peeks into the container and sees the little brown balls, a little smaller than golf balls.  They have a subtle shine to them and they give off a sweet, buttery cardamom smell.  He cannot resist trying one immediately and he offers one to Khan as well.  It is soft and very sweet, not unlike a donut.

“What’s it made of?”

“Mostly milk. It fried in ghee.”

“Is that like butter?”

He nods as he sinks his gleaming teeth into the little dessert. “Mmmm.  Man!  Perfect.  So soft.”

As they munch through the whole batch of jamuns and sip their coffee, Khan continues to murmur about how soft they are.  Daniel finds it strange that Khan would measure the appeal of a food by the degree of its softness.  Would he not be fully satisfied unless he were eating soggy bread?  How far do you go with soft food before it’s just mush? He thinks back on a Thanksgiving meal at his great aunt Myrtle’s retirement facility and the sickening experience of having baked turkey literally melt in his mouth.  Mmmm…so soft.

“Thanks, man.  These were delicious.  Tell Babi thanks for me.  Ok?”  says Daniel licking his sticky fingers.  What if I get another Babi?  How will he know which Babi I’m talking about?

Suddenly struck with an idea, Daniel asks, “Hey! How much time do you have on the bench?”

“Three or four week.”

“Let’s build some software!  Listen, this office is handling way too much paper.  To update my resume I had to get a hard copy from Samantha, make hand corrections, and submit it back to her for updating.  God knows what she does with it after that.  Hopefully she has it on file on the network file server, but maybe she doesn’t.”  Daniel is getting high from the Indian sweets and the prospect of fresh code.

“Why software?  Why not just put the file in a shared network folder and let people update when they need to?”  asks Khan, unconvinced.

“Two reasons.  First, if you look around you’ll see that most of the consultants are working offsite and don’t have access to our network short of using a virtual private network or something like that.  Second, Clark is having to manually cross-reference our resumes against the skill sets needed for new project proposals. So –”

“We build an enterprise database with a web interface that allow all Maxtech employee to login and update their own resumes,” continues Khan, picking up Daniel’s thought in mid-sentence with ease.

“Then we provide Clark with a search engine to match consultants with skills,” continues Daniel.

“Of course, then we have to set up a way of tracking the status of each consultant so that management will know who can be leveraged and when,” finishes Khan with analytical precision.

It is a simple project for Khan and Daniel.  They spend most of the day gathering up the requirements with Samantha’s willing assistance, drawing up the designs, and setting up their development environment with the local database and web servers.  By the end of the day, everything is set for them to begin building all the necessary software components that together will become affectionately known to Maxtech consultants as “Lil’ Sis”; Sis standing for Skills Inventory System.

As Daniel pulls up to his house to meet Ashley and Laura for trick-or-treating, smaller children are already beginning to prowl the neighborhood accompanied by their parents or older siblings.  There are princesses, super heroes, Disney characters, young wizards with round glasses and messy hair, animals, and kids in their sports uniforms.  Daniel is dismayed, and has been for several years, that there are very few vampires, witches, ghosts, mummies, gypsies, hobos, devils, werewolves, or Frankenstein’s monsters.  What’s scary about pretty pink princesses and baseball players?  This is pathetic! Then there is the growing conservative Christian boycott on Halloween.  These Bible thumping, home schooling, Evils Of Halloween comic book tract dealing, witch and devil worshipper fearing, scaredy cats who attend Fall Carnivals, and worse: Hell Houses…AHHHH!  Make it stop! He is so proud to see his own cute little daughter of Satan standing on the front porch in her classic, no-frills witch costume holding a little plastic jack-o-lantern for collecting her candy.

“Hey!  You’d better not be thinking about putting a spell on me!”  hollers Daniel as he steps out of his car.

Her little body wriggles with delight at the suggestion and she runs to meet him offering her best witch cackle.  He catches her up in his arms and carries her into the house.

He is greeted by one of the most welcomed sights any man could hope to see.  His wife’s form explodes into view with the skin tight, shimmering black body suit, mask, and ears that would be the horror and fantasy of any caped crusader.  The lines created by her trim waist and shapely legs are breathtakingly smooth and impossibly curved.  The suit clings immodestly to her perky breasts showing the full power of her form.  Daniel is dumbstruck.  He puts Laura down.  Ashley sees the hungry look in his eye and laughs, backing away, as he advances toward her.  She is holding something behind her back.

“You’d better put this on quick if you want to trick-or-treat with us, Bruce,”

Bruce?

From behind her back, she reveals a costume which she thrusts toward him like a piece of meat extended to a hungry tiger.

As a boy, Daniel could only assemble a rudimentary representation of this most treasured of costumes.  His mother made him a blue cape with the yellow insignia and he had to improvise the rest.  He and his older brother Mike had each been faithful to one superhero throughout their entire childhood.  Mike had been Superman and Daniel had been Batman, the Caped Crusader.  Daniel’s younger brother, Gabe, not only refused to vow allegiance to one hero, his choices were at times highly questionable.  Gabe went through phases that included King Kong, the Wolf Man (complete with transformative dramatics and makeup effects), the Incredible Hulk, Indiana Jones, Darth Vader, E.T., and Gargamel from the Saturday morning animated series The Smurfs.  But Daniel had been so committed to Batman that, for a period of seven or eight months, he insisted that people call him Bruce when he was not in costume.  Lying listless on an emergency room examination table one night after mistakenly swallowing a glass of turpentine,  Daniel weakly replied to the doctor when asked his name, “Bruce.  My name is Bruce Wayne.”  But even as a six-year-old, Daniel knew that the likelihood of a superhero ever existing was slim.  Oh, he knew there were heroes in the ordinary since, firemen, policemen, soldiers, and such, but masked men in capes and unitards protecting entire cities from villains of the likes that no regular police force could deter?  Never, in his deepest of fantasy play, did he ever entertain the notion of a real life superhero.  Reality wasn’t the point.  Playing the part of a superhero gave Daniel a sense of power and identity that playing with cars and trains could not.  But his costume was never fully satisfactory.  Once, in front of a shopping mall fountain, he made a wish that he could one day own a fully constructed costume. He tossed his penny in hopefully.  Now here he is, twenty-five years later holding a classic-style Batman costume consisting of a gray body suit with foam-sculpted chest and abdominal muscles, gloves, blue masked cape, yellow utility belt, and boot tops.  He tries to conceal his glee as he heads back to the bedroom eager to return caped and hooded to join his arch rival and loving wife, Cat Woman.  He will never again feel disdain or contempt for children wearing superhero costumes on Halloween.  He is elated…triumphant.

The costume is nearly a perfect fit.  The sleeves and legs are long enough.  The mask and boot tops fit nicely over his head and legs.  The gloves are a little loose, but not too bad. But Uh oh…this could be a problem. Looking in the dresser mirror, Daniel notices a tightness, an obscene sort of tightness.  Oh shit!  The whole neighborhood’s going to get a little show.  Well, not that little a show. Daniel is still a little aroused from seeing his wife, and his body suit is exceptionally tight in the crotch.  He tries to make an adjustment, but there is no hiding it.  He’ll just have to cool the engines a bit.

He steps into the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face, takes a few deep breaths, and thinks of the musty smell of his childhood church.  Ok…that’s better. He makes a few more adjustments and heads for the living room.

“Whoa. Dad.  You look really…um…cool,” says Jake with that expression that a ten-year-old boy reserves exclusively for his dorky dad.

Daniel is surprised to find his son in the living room with Ashley.

Ashley walks over to Daniel examining him through her Cat Woman mask.  “It looks pretty good, but it’s a little…” begins Ashley quietly so that only Daniel can hear.

“Tight?” finishes Daniel.  “Yea, well, as long as you keep that cute little tail away from me it won’t become criminal.”

She giggles as she puts her arms around his neck.  “Just keep it…under control.  Ok?”

“Ooo, daddy!  You look like a real super hero!” squeals Laura as she enters the living room.

Daniel does a quick check to make sure everything is riding smoothly, and Ashley chokes on her laughter turning away to regain her composure.  “Thanks, honey.  You like it?”

“It’s neat!”

“So, Jake.  What are you doing here?  I thought you were going with a friend.”

“I am.  It’s getting kind of cold, so I asked Hunter’s mom to bring me home to get my jacket.”

“Oh.  I see. Well…”

“Well, I’d better go.”

Before Daniel can say any more, Jake grabs the jean jacket laying on the kitchen counter and starts for the front door.

“Hey. Have fun, ok?” says Daniel.

Jake pauses at the door as if he wants to say something, then opens it up, smiles and says, “You too, Bat Dork.”

“Nice!” calls Ashley disapprovingly over Laura’s uncontrollable laughter.

Daniel recognizes a trace of affection in his son’s voice, and contents himself with “Bat Dork” instead of “Dad”.

As the sky begins to darken, Ashley and Daniel hold hands and stroll leisurely behind their ecstatic daughter.  Every bit of candy is like treasure to her.  She takes time to notice costumes and decorations.  Occasionally, she chats with other children, comparing goodies and sharing in the joy of the whole event.   The air is cool, but there is no wind to chill them or to muffle the voices of children in their Halloween revelry.  It’s a nice evening.

Only one thing missing thinks Daniel as he envisions his son collecting his fill of candy along side Laura.  At that moment, Ashley squeezes his hand as if she knows what he is thinking.  He wraps his arm around her sleek, feline waist and squeezes her close with his bat-gloved hand.

Later, back at the Bradford house Daniel sits on the

kitchen counter sipping wine. He reflects on the evening and begins to feel hope.  He is no longer confused by the increasing range of feeling he is becoming capable of experiencing.  Hope is a welcome relief, but it does not have a monopoly on him.  Something else is tugging at him.  It has not yet risen to the surface.  It whispers to him.  It pours little bits of acid into his chocolate-filled stomach.

He wants badly to meditate before settling down for bed, but something is giving him pause.  He enters the meditation room, but it doesn’t seem as welcoming anymore.  The familiarity he felt upon entering it the night before is gone.  He sees only the eyes.  They are haunting him, burned on his brain.  He quickly retreats to the living room.  But he won’t stay in retreat for long.  Daniel intends to see this through.  Driven by an intense desire for change and a deep sense of destiny, he will return to the room tonight.  He will put everything on the line. He will face his fear, and he will be changed forever.

Remember, it’s just about being still he tells himself before beginning his breathing.  The energy and listening exercises come easy and help him attain the necessary state of calm that is required to ascend the Stream.  He finds the place of golden light, but the longer he remains the more anxious he gets.  His peace is becoming increasingly disturbed by anxious thoughts about the mysterious eyes.

Am I safe? he wonders.  Is this no more harmful than a bad dream, or am I in danger?  John and Susan never mentioned…

Before he can finishes his thought, he realizes that he is no longer at peace and no longer in the light.  He is very aware of the room and the chair and the candle.

Peace.  I need peace.  Shanti. Shanti. Daniel is struck with a notion.  He recalls the powerful effect of the bell’s decay from the night before.  It took him inward and into deep stillness.  I can’t carry a freakin’ bell with me everywhere I go.   Shaaaaaaa-ntiiiiiii. He begins to chant “Shanti” in rhythm with his breathing.  Longer.  The sound has to last longer. He takes deeper slower breaths.  No.  Still not long enough. He attempts to detach the chant from the breath.  It is challenging for his undisciplined mind, but he finally arches the first note of the chant over a few breaths.  With each attempt he holds it a little longer until he is singing “Sha” in his mind for minutes at a time.  As he sings himself deeper and deeper, he observes that he is naturally floating up higher into the Stream.  One last thought enters his mind before all thoughts leave.  He thinks of his mother singing him home.  “Daaaaaaaniel.  Daaaaaaaaniel.”   And now he is calling himself home.  Shaaaaaaaa… Home to peace.

Daniel cannot identify a point in time in which he realizes that he is no longer alone.  It feels to him as if the presence has always been there and that his shift to awareness of it has been so subtle that it is nearly imperceptible.  It is like the slow dawning of a day.  And who, upon observing a sunrise, is surprised when the first ray of sunlight reaches out over the horizon?  And who would be fearful?

The first hint of it’s presence is in a feeling.  It’s like what a sick child in a restless, feverish sleep feels when a cool, damp cloth meets his forehead and the soothing hand of his mother stokes his hair.  It is subtle at first, but it grows until it fills Daniel’s entire consciousness; until he is ecstatic with it.   Then he feels warmth around his hands and he recognizes the hands that had reached out to him in meditation class.  Slowly, a beautiful form dawns in his mind.  In the moment at which the face is fully revealed, calm and radiant, Daniel can no longer look at any part of the figure.  Daniel decides that it is masculine, but his features are beautiful and fine like a woman’s.  His hair is long and black, his skin like the color of Daniel’s lightened coffee.  But it is his eyes that he cannot escape.  They are dark in color and filled with light.  The eyes are the source of the feeling that Daniel is experiencing.  Emotion is pouring out of them and into Daniel, still stronger as he continues to gaze at this magnificent creature that only twenty-four hours before had given him the fright of his life.

Without warning, the feeling doubles.  He feels as if his spine has been plugged into an electrical socket and a powerful force is lifting him up several feet above the chair.  Glorious light is exploding from him filling the space around him that had first seemed so small but is now expanding rapidly in all directions.  But it is not enough to describe it simply as light.  That would be like describing Michelangelo’s David as just stone.  The light is a manifestation of something deep within Daniel that until this moment has remained dormant for years.  It is not foreign to Daniel, only forgotten.  It is what he felt lying under his parent’s mimosa tree as a child.  It is what beamed from his eyes like rays of sunlight to anyone who encountered him.  It is what stirred him and his brothers, Gabe and Mike, into such inspired fits of silliness that the map of their childhood was marked and named in its honor.  He is buzzing with it, soaring into the infinite.  It only lasts for a few seconds, and then it subsides.  He sinks back down and only the tingly afterglow of the electrical flight remains.  The figure is still there and he is smiling gently at Daniel.

The words that Daniel receives have no sound at first.  They do not come from the mouth of the figure in front of him, nor do they reach his mind through his ears.  They seem to originate in emotions that Daniel can still feel being poured into him.  The emotions influence a thought, and a thought forms into words.  The words are unintelligible at first, but he recognizes the unmistakable rhythm of speech emerging from the silence.  The more he concentrates and the more he allows the stream of unconditional love to flow throughout his mind and body the clearer the words become until finally, like a camera coming into focus, they snap into total clarity.

“Let there be joy,” comes a voice so gentle and so warm that it must certainly be akin to an evening breeze in June.

“Let there be joy,” it continues, until Daniel understands.  He joins in this chant until they are in precise unison.  “Let there be joy.”  And then, without so much as a nod, they both stop.  Not knowing what to say or to do, Daniel waits. He is beyond words now.  He can do nothing but receive love, deep abiding love.  They sit in silence, their eyes never part.

Feeling a surge of emotion, Daniel recognizes the beginning of speech again.  Just as the light had been a manifestation of joy, this voice seemed to be a manifestation of the very love that is now flowing into him.

“Daniel,” comes the voice.  The sound of his own name spoken by this magnificent creature moves him to tears of deep gratitude. “I’ve come to help you.”  Each word runs smoothly throughout Daniel’s entire body.  “You’ve come very far, Daniel, but we have a long way to go together.”

Daniel, not sure how to speak to the form in front of him, begins formulating a question in his mind.  “Who are you?”

The creature smiles and his eyes seem to grow even warmer.  “You will know when you are ready, but for now you may call me Shanti since that is the name that you chose when you sang out for me.”

Another question forms in his mind. “Were you with me when I fell off the tractor?”

Shanti gives Daniel a simple nod.

“Let us begin.  Repeat this ancient chant after me, Daniel.  Owha…”

“Owha…” repeats Daniel, still barely able to speak.

“Tador…”

“Tador…”

“Kiam…”

“Kiam…”

What does this mean?

“It’s meaning will be revealed to you as you chant it.”

“Owha…” begins Daniel on his own, “Tador…”

“Good,” encourages Shanti.

“Kiam…”

“Mmmmmmm.  Longer…Kiammmmmmm…”

“Kiammmmmmm”.

Shanti nods his approval.  “Now faster.”

“Owha…Tador…Kiammmmmmmmm…”.

Shanti strengthens his grip on Daniel’s hands as Daniel chants faster and faster.

“Owha…Tador…Kiammmmmmm…”.

Shanti begins to draw a slow and potent breath and once again Daniel feels the same powerful feeling of joy rising from the base of his spine.

“OwhaTadorKiammmmm…”.

Together they begin to rise. – “OwhaTadorKiammm…” – soaring beyond John Bradford’s meditation room – “OwhaTadorKiammm…” – What’s happening?!!

Suddenly, the meaning of the chant is revealed to him with the force of an avalanche.

“O WHAT A DORK I AMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!” bellows Daniel as they soar beyond the very night that was enclosing them.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 9: Tree-dweller

It’s Close To Midnight And Something Evil’s Lurking In The Dark
Under The Moonlight You See A Sight That Almost Stops Your Heart
You Try To Scream But Terror Takes The Sound Before You Make It
You Start To Freeze As Horror Looks You Right Between The Eyes,
You’re Paralyzed

[Chorus]
‘Cause This Is Thriller, Thriller Night
And No One’s Gonna Save You From The Beast About to Strike
You Know It’s Thriller, Thriller Night
You’re Fighting For Your Life Inside A Killer, Thriller
Tonight

Michael Jackson – “Thriller”

Daniel can feel a greater surge of energy flow from the hands.  He can make out the dim lines of a person sitting cross-legged in front of him.  He can discern no details of this being other than the fullness and warmth of the hands and that they are distinctly masculine.  Daniel is reminded of his own father’s hands when they used to join in a circle for table grace.

“As you flow further up the stream, you may encounter a heavenly being.  If you do, just take its hand,” Susan’s voice continues.

Daniel continues to suspend any disbelief as he surrenders himself to this being.  Although he can’t distinctly see his face he can feel his loving gaze upon him.  After awhile (Daniel can know longer measure his experience with time), the being releases his hands and reaches out for his head.  He gently takes it and lowers it, and brings his lips to the place on his head where the Stream is flowing in.  Daniel can feel that he actually does have a hole in the top of his head, at least in his current form.  Then the being begins to blow into this hole, then suck, then blow, then suck, first gently, then rigorously.  Daniel thinks of plunging a clogged sink or toilet as his head begins to clear and fill with light. Immediately after Daniel’s head is released he rises even higher, leaving the being behind.  He feels as if he is suspended in warm fluid.  He is weightless and slowly turning.  He thinks of his own children and how they must have floated like this in Ashley’s womb.  All thoughts flow away from him.  All sense of time and space are gone.  There is only the warm feeling of resting in a state of total calm.

“Now feel yourself float upward into the Heart of the Christ, the Heart of the Buddha.  All you need to do is accept the love and peace that is offered to you here,” continues Susan.

Just as Daniel feels that he might want to stay this way forever, he feels a hand gently grasp his foot and pull him back down, and the hands take his hands again for a final embrace.  There are no words as the being fades away and becomes only an impression, a memory.

“And now, it’s time to come back.  Gently come down the Stream again to the top of your head.  Flow down into your head.  Come right back behind your own eyes.  While we still have so much light, if you would like, think of someone who you would like to hold in the light.  Someone who is sick or just in need of a loving touch.  Hold their image in front of you in the light.  Suspend your own wishes for this person.  Just imagine them being filled with the Light and ask that their highest need be met.”

Daniel immediately conjures the image of Ashley in front of him.  She is like an angel floating with a look of peace on her heart-breakingly beautiful face.  He knows that she has suffered his neglect.  He knows that she is patiently waiting for his loving touch.  He holds her in the light and she closes her eyes to rest in the light. May your highest need be met, Ashley.

“And now, if you like, hold your own image in this light.  Suspend your wishes for yourself.”  He did not expect to have to face himself like this. He is shaken a bit.  He tries to imagine his own image, but he cannot.  He can’t even see his own face, so he just places the word Daniel in the light.  He wonders if this is good enough and decides that it is.  “Imagine that you are being filled with beautiful, golden light.  And now, ask that your own highest need be met today.”  The power of this action is almost too great for Daniel to bear as he says to himself May your highest need be met today, Daniel.

“Begin to come back out into the room.  Rub your eyes.  Stretch.”

Slowly, the time begins to tick again and he can feel his body regain it’s weight and feeling.  He becomes aware of the chair and the room and the other people sitting with him as if he had left and was magically returning.

“Thanks, Susan,” says John, breaking the spell of meditation with his voice.

While Susan and John take some time for questions and answers, Daniel is silent.  He listens to the other members of the class ask about or comment on various images, sounds, experiences, and frustrations while John and Susan speak knowledgably and encouragingly in response.  Daniel is dumbfounded by his experience and is embarrassed to even mention it.  They’ll think I’m some kind of kook coming in here on my first time and having some huge mystical experience.  I’m sure people are always coming in here and talking shit about their bogus mystical experiences.

As the class begins to break up, Susan comes over to talk with Daniel. “I’m so glad you came, Daniel.  How was it?”

His first instinct is to say great, but he decides at that moment that great should be permanently removed from his vocabulary.  Instead, he raises his eyebrows and rapidly shakes his head in a gesture that communicates his true response of shock and confusion.  “I guess it was kind of strange, but you know…it felt really good.  It kind of felt familiar, too…like visiting a place where I used live or something.  You know?  But at the same time…” he looks down and shakes his head, “it was just kind of…unexpected.”

“What happened?  Can you describe –”

Before she can finish, John walks up and puts an arm around each of them and says, “Well that was quite a first experience, Daniel!”

Susan smiles big at John, “Did something happen, John?  What’s going on?”

“Danny just met his guide.”  John gives Daniel a tender look.

What?!!!  This is impossible!  He couldn’t possibly be talking about the guy with the hands!  This can’t be happening!  I’m seeing gurus and this guy is reading my mind!

“Oh, you should have seen this guy, Susan.  He was like a king.  He was dressed in these beautiful silk clothes and he had this turban with a gigantic gemstone right in front.  Like an Indian Raja.”

“Wow.  Did you see this Daniel, or is John just telling stories?”  asks Susan, excitement beaming from her face.

“Well, I couldn’t really see him, but…” he turns to John, “how do you know about this?  Can you read minds or something?”

“No…no.”  John takes a moment to put his words together.  “It’s more like I can read your emotions.  It’s no big deal.  You’ll be able to do it if you work at it.  Stuff just kind of floats over to me sometimes and I can put it together, it doesn’t mean I’m reading your mind.”

Daniel is even more confused.

On the way back to the Bradford house, Daniel can’t stop thinking about his meditation experience.  He reviews all the steps of the exercises that Susan had led the group through.  He wants badly to be able to return to wherever it was that he went.  The relaxation and gentle buzzing still lingers in his body.  He wants to float and to be free again.  But most of all, he wants to hold the hands again.  He can still feel their warmth and energy.  And hadn’t he felt something else in those hands?  Hadn’t he felt something that filled and transcended the entire experience?  Something he was thirsty for and desperate to get more of.  He cannot fully articulate it, but he felt love from these mysterious hands.  He felt a deep abiding love.  It didn’t exactly flow from the hands like the Energy did so much as it came from the embrace itself.  He felt the love in the embrace.

He takes a moment to look at his own hands.  Daniel is astonished to find that his hands are perfectly smooth.  His skin, rather than being cracked and dry, is now smooth and pure.  In fact, except for their adult size, Daniel’s hands might be mistaken for the hands of a child.  This is new skin. Daniel quickly turns into a strip mall parking lot to examine them more thoroughly.

What the fuck!? He turns on the cabin light and turns them front and back touching and rubbing and closely observing his new skin.  This cannot be happening!

When Daniel reaches the house, he has a sudden urge to connect with his family.  He checks his watch to see if it is too late to call.  8:20…good enough.

“Hey,” comes Ashley’s voice over the line.  She sounds tired, but glad to hear her husband’s voice.

“Hey.  I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

“Mmmm…” she sighs, “I love you, too.  Are you doing ok?  You sound kind of weird,” asks Ashley.

“Yeah, I’m just a little freaked out.  I went to meditation class tonight and some pretty weird shit happened.”

“Oh?” prompts Ashley with a hint of a giggle as she enjoys Daniel’s newfound ease with language.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it, yet, though.  I just want you to know how special you are to me, and apparently to everyone at meditation.”

“Thanks.  I think you’re pretty special, too.”

Daniel’s eyes tear up a bit at this.  “Really?”

“Yes, Lucky, I do, but not in the wears-a-helmet-and-rides-the-short-bus-to-school kind of way,” teases Daniel’s wife.

“Gee, thanks!”

They laugh together.  Daniel is beginning to feel what he is missing.  He feels their connection and at the same time feels their separation.

“Hey, are the kids up?”

“Yes.  Would you like to speak to them?”

“Yes. Please.”

Daniel can hear Ashley calling Laura.  He hears Laura’s little voice begin chanting the Daddy Rumba.  “Daddy Daddy Da- DDY!  Daddy Daddy Da-DDY!”

“Hi, Daddy!”

“Hi, sweetheart!  How are you doing?”  Daniel doesn’t know quite what to say, but he knows that he wants her to know how much he loves her.

“I’m fine, Daddy.  Guess what!”

“What?”

“Guess what tomorrow is!”

“Gee, honey, you tell me.”

“I’ll give you a hint.  OOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” she wails. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“Christmas?” teases Daniel.

“No, daddy! HALLOWEEN!”  She begins another rumba.  “I’m goin’ to be a wi-ITCH! I’m goin’ to be a wi-ITCH!  Our class is having a par-TY!  Our class is having a par-TY!

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, honey!  Halloween is one of daddy’s favorite days!”

And it certainly is.  Until this year, Daniel has celebrated Halloween with a religious fervor.  His preparations for October thirty-first have become so ritualistic, rigid, and obsessively plotted as he is annually gripped by his Halloween mania.  His goal?  A genuine fright.

He must watch John Carpenter’s “Halloween” 1 and 2 (back-to-back if possible).  He must watch Stephen King’s “Carrie”.  He must drive through a cemetery on a cloudy day.  A cloudy day is the closest he will get to going to a cemetery in the dark because he would never enter a cemetery illegally after hours.  He must go to one of the many haunted entertainment opportunities nearby (haunted houses, haunted forests, haunted warehouses, haunted zoos).  He has to read about the Pagan origins of Halloween.

Fear has never been on Daniel’s unacceptable emotions list.  He enjoys the rush of adrenaline that comes with it, the heightened senses, and the limitless possibilities that the mind will consider when under its influence; that is, as long as there is no real danger.  He loves roller coasters, scary movies, and Halloween haunted houses.  He never tires of the inevitable, yet endlessly effective thrill of a chainsaw roaring to life while he fumbles frantically through the dimly lit passageway of an otherwise mundane warehouse transformed under the sponsorship of K-Hits 99.5 FM into The Haunted Warehouse every October.  But by far the most dependable and powerful source for the most spine tingly, can’t-sleep-at-night, bring-tears-to-your-eyes experience is that most ancient of spooks:  Ghosts.              Every October, Daniel looks to books, the Internet, movies, TV, and friends for stories or images that will deliver the most heart-pounding, breath-holding ghostly frights.

“Why you like ghosts so much?” asks Khan every October.  “If you lived in my country you wouldn’t want to see one so bad.  Everybody afraid.  There are ghosts all over the place.  You will never see anyone wanting to go to a graveyard. Man!  It’s bad enough we gotta look out for these mangy dogs all the time trying to bite little kids’ arms off!”

Why Carpenter’s “Halloween”? King’s “Carrie”? Hauntings? Ghosts?  Daniel cannot care less about vampires, swamp monsters, or werewolves.  None of these things seem likely to him.  But a psychopathic serial killer?  A telekinetic high school reject having her final revenge?  Paranormal disturbances?  Earth-bound souls?  All of these things seem possible to Daniel.  Daniel prefers a little ounce of reality in his fright.

The truth is, Daniel has never experienced more than a little ounce of reality in his frights.  He’s never been in a serious car accident.  He’s never been mugged.  He’s never faced a life-threatening illness himself or in his immediate family.  He’s never been in a fistfight.  The only event in his life that he was aware of, for we all have faced dangers unseen, that should have been a true fright was being run over by Uncle Ray’s tractor, but he was spared the fear of that experience.  The fear that Daniel seeks is artificial, carefully constructed in his Halloween laboratory.

Daniel has spent the last month facing real fears thanks to Dr. Collins and Ashley Roberts.  Fear of emotion, fear of intimacy, fear of losing Ashley, fear of sex.  He has no interest in his usual Halloween fear rituals this year.  The only recognition of the holiday he will engage in is treak-or-treating; in his opinion, the most benign ritual of them all.  He enjoys it, but it contains no possibility of a fright for him.

“Daddy? Are you coming home soon?  I want you to feel better, but…”  She stops in mid sentence.

“What, honey.  What were you going to say?” coaxes Daniel.

“I don’t know.  It’s kind of selfish.”  Laura’s tone is quiet and shy.

“Honey, it’s okay.  You can say whatever you want to Daddy.”

“I want you to come home.  I love Mommy, but it’s not the same. I really miss you, Daddy.”

“I’m not sure, Laura, but I don’t think it will be too long.  I think I’m on the right road now.”

“The Yellow Brick Road?” Laura can hardly contain her pleasure at coming up with this idea.

Daniel chuckles.  “Right, honey.  The Yellow Brick Road.”

“I think mommy wants to talk to you now.  Bye.”

Before Daniel can say “Bye” or “I love you” she is already gone.  He can hear her distant voice saying “Here, Mommy,” and the jostling of the phone out of her little hands and into Ashley’s.

“Ok, I’m back,” comes Ashley’s voice tinged with sadness.

“Ok, can I talk to Jake now?”

“Daniel, Jake doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

Daniel is hurt, but he doesn’t blame Jake for not wanting to talk to him, yet.  He has suffered ten years of Daniel’s lack of interest or even acknowledgement.  Daniel is beginning to see that he has a lot of ground to cover before he can bridge the gap between the two of them.  Where do I even begin with this guy?

“Ashley?  Will you do me a favor, then?”

“What is it, Lucky?” says Ashley with tenderness.

“Will you go into his room, shut off his game, look into that kid’s face and tell him that his Dad loves him and he’s gonna do everything it takes to win him over!”

“It’s not just a matter of winning him over, Daniel.  He needs you for the long haul.  This is going to take a long-term commitment from you.  Do you understand that?  And this has to come from you.  You have to tell him that you love him yourself, honey.”

Daniel is breathing hard now that his passion is ignited. He is silent for a moment.  He knows that Ashley is right.

“Just tell him I’ll miss him tomorrow night when we trick-or-treat.”

“Ok. I will.” She pauses to take a breath, too.  “Daniel, I’m so glad you went to meditation.  I’d be happy to hear about it if it’s something you feel you need to talk about.  I’m also really glad that you called. And…”  she hesitates, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Ash.  I’m going to make it.  I’m going make it home and things are going to be different.”

“I know, Lucky.”

“Well, I think I’m going to go and try this meditation thing on my own while it’s still fresh on my mind, ” says Daniel, wrapping it up.

“Sounds like a good idea, Lucky.  Listen, I don’t know what happened to you tonight with John and Susan, but just remember, it’s all just about being still…being one.”

“Thanks, Ash.  I’ll try and remember that.  I’ll see you tomorrow night, ok?”

“Ok. I know this is hard, Daniel, but I do love you and I do want to be with you.”

Something in her voice helps Daniel to accept this fact more fully than he has ever been able to.  She loves him.  She wants to be with him.  He believes her.

“I love you, too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Daniel sits with the phone in his hand for a moment, his many thoughts swirling around inside his changing mind.

But rather than the thoughts swirling him into a state of worry, anxiety, and compulsion, they settle.  It’s as if they are seeds blown by the wind that never find fertile ground to grow and take root.  For the moment, his mind is clear.  Only one thought remains: meditate.

Ever since Daniel returned from meditation class he has been very eager to attempt a return trip to the place or state of mind that he was in when he had his encounter.

He makes his way through the living room, down the hall and into the room with all the pillows, the meditation chairs, the bell, and the candle.  The room makes more sense to him as he lights the giant star-shaped candle.  He imagines the results of using the bell.  He pictures his mind fixing on the bell tone and how it will surely get smaller as the tone decays slowly out of hearing.  He wants to return once more to a state of calm stillness where his thoughts cease and his body falls away.  He strikes the bell and takes a seat in one of the legless, armless chairs.  As he crosses his legs and places his hands palms down, index finger and thumb making an O.K. sign he sets his attention on the bell as it slowly fades.  Never has he been able to concentrate so steadily.  He doesn’t know it, but he has been spared the initial struggle of silencing the stream of chatter that plagues most novices.   He effortlessly summons Susan’s voice to guide him again.

He starts with the breath.  He finds that his body returns immediately to a state of relaxation.  It is as if his muscles remember what to do as he breathes slowly and deeply.  He ‘runs the Energy’ three times: Cleansing, Healing, Peace.  He ‘listens in’ three times, each time listening deeper, each time becoming more a part of the light.  He meditates.  Thoughtless.  Motionless.  He surrenders one more time. Surrender. Anything to get back.

(breathe in) One (breathe out) with the Light. One…with the Light.  One…with the Light.

As he continues to breathe he waits for something.  Daniel’s world is forever changed.  After what he has experienced, everything he thought was real and everything he thought was make-believe is now up for reevaluation.  He is waiting for guidance.  He knows now that he might just receive it.  He is prepared to go the distance tonight.  After all, what does he need to get his sleep for?  The bench?

He increases his dedication to the mantra  One…with the Light imagining a dial like a volume dial on a stereo and cranks it up to the max.  He begins to feel intense pressure and vibration at the top of his head.  He can hear it buzzing and ringing in his ears.  His entire body becomes bathed in sensations of warmth, vibration, weightlessness, and pleasure.  Then he can feel himself being drawn up the Stream just like before.  He reaches up in his mind as he slowly ascends, feeling lighter than air until he reaches some sort of destination.   Yes! He recognizes this place.  He is surrounded by a subtle golden light.  He draws his attention back to his breath, careful not to become distracted by his new environment remembering his wife’s gentle reminder, “Remember, Daniel, it’s all about being still, becoming one.”

Only one thing is missing.

Guide me. Guide me. Guide me he begins to chant, reaching out with all of his mental strength hoping to feel the hands once again.

Nothing

He continues for just a little while longer until he begins to feel strain.

Just be still he remembers.

He releases a breath and lets it settle into a natural rhythm.  And the stillness begins.  He is not thinking about it, but all the energy he was using to reach up and reach out has taken the form of something like a luminous bed or cocoon for him.  He holds the thought of stillness until the stillness itself seems to hold him.

Still.

If a stray thought wanders into his mind he simply lets it wander right back out.  For this brief time, he has become an observer of his own mind, sitting on a park bench of pure consciousness.  The world goes on around him as he sits in peaceful, stillness.

As a child, Daniel lived across the street from the town park.  It was laid out on a single city block near the center of town.  In fact it was on Center Street.  It had an old merry-go-round, jungle gym, swings, and a slide that contrasted with the new tennis court, cedar wood big toy with sand, and two new pavilions that were still under construction.  But what Daniel, was most interested in were the trees.  His town was known for having some of the oldest oak and cedar trees in the state.  The oak trees were pretty to look at, but the cedar trees had a much more inviting quality for Daniel.  They tended to have lower lying branches that made them easier for a child to climb.

There was one tree in particular that Daniel was fond of.  The tallest one in the park, it stood by the merry-go-round just ten yards from the street.  It had a knot on the trunk about three feet from the ground under a branch that Daniel could just barely reach.  He would jump up and grab it with his right hand which enabled him to gain footing on the knot with his right foot.  From there he could grab a higher branch with his free hand and anchor his free foot on the side of a much larger branch.  Letting go of the lower branch, he could pull himself up just enough to grab on with both hands and pull himself up.  From here he could climb as high as his nerve would allow.

Daniel was not a fearless tree climber; he had a healthy respect for the dangers of a tree.  He always tested out branches for stability and never ventured too far out on the limbs.  He had a keen sense of what a branch could support and nearly always gave it far less.  He performed little or no acrobatics, nor did he pretend to be a tree-dwelling animal such as a monkey or a squirrel.  And although he did indulge an occasional fantasy of being Tarzan, he did not really climb trees to play.  He had something else in mind.

There were many things about climbing the cedar that Daniel liked.  He felt proud that he, such a small creature, could navigate such a large creature.  He enjoyed the feeling of invisibility he got when adults walked under or near the tree without noticing him.  Kids always noticed him, but few joined him.  On the rare occasion that an adult, especially his mother, did notice him, he relished the gasps of surprise, shock, or fright that he might receive for being such a young child in such a high place.  These he received as precious gifts.  But none of this kept him climbing the tree day after day.  Daniel had a far deeper purpose to fulfill.

Daniel, as a child, was an appreciator of beauty.  He would climb high, find a favorite branch, and perch.  He might stand, or he might straddle it, or he might just sit across it letting his bare feet dangle in the breeze.  Then he would get really still a take whatever the tree had to offer him.  To him, it was like a whole other world.  He took time to breathe in the strong cedar fragrance.  He enjoyed the unique perspective on the wind that only a tree can provide.  If he stayed still long enough, he might get a visit from a bird on a nearby branch, a robin or a blue jay or maybe even a goldfinch.  When he was in the tree, he was no longer a ground-dwelling stranger to birds, he was more akin.  He was a fellow tree-dweller, more like a peer.  Daniel had a vague notion that this tree had become his friend.  He liked to imagine it’s life.  How is must have been a sapling long before the park even existed. How it must have known many children. Some would be men and women right here in town, some would be dead.  Had it ever been hurt?  What did it think about this town growing around it?  To Daniel, these visits of stillness and friendship lasted hours and went on for years.  To an observing adult, they might have lasted fifteen minutes and went on for two summers.  To the tree, just a flicker, no different than any brief visit from a tree-dweller, except that this one didn’t have wings.

But like all nice days in the park tree, there comes a time to climb down and join the ground-dwellers again.  Daniel senses that it is time.  He recalls Susan’s instructions to come back down the stream and anchor his consciousness right behind his eyes.  And so he begins his slow descent, but just as he begins to cross the bridge between his inner world and the outer world in that place where dreams and the sounds of morning become entangled, Daniel gets his Halloween fright, unexpected and uninvited.

A pair of eyes thrust themselves into the lower periphery of Daniel’s inner vision.  They are dark and exotic.  To Daniel they are wild, fierce, young, beautiful and intense. He cannot make out the face, just the eyes.  They are looking right into his eyes.  Then he realizes that he is paralyzed.  An unexpected rush of fear explodes somewhere in the base of his spine, and begins flooding his body, out to the end of his limbs, and out through the top of his head.  This is the fear of childhood nightmares when monsters approach and you cannot run, cannot scream, cannot move.  Painful adrenaline drives through his veins as fear consumes every fiber of his being.  All the places that were light are now dark.  He is rising back up the Stream, on top of a growing mountain of fear.  The surge of power pushing him upward is unlike anything he has ever experienced.  Then the eyes are gone. Daniel descends once again.  Tears begin to well up in his eyes which are now wide open and scanning the room.   The power still throbs in and around him as his heart pounds and his breath races.  What have you gotten yourself into, Danny boy?  What the fuck was that thing?

As soon as movement returns to his body, Daniel blows out the candle and retreats to the living room.  He pours himself a scotch, skipping the soda and his customary twist, and kicks it back quick to douse the fire that is burning up his jolted nervous system.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 8: The Wizard

Take my hand

You know I’ll be there

If you can

I’ll cross the sky for your love

For I have promised

Oh, to be with you tonight

And for the time that will come

Take my hand

You know I’ll be there

If you can

I’ll cross the sky for your love

And I understand

These winds and tides

This change of times

Won’t drag you away

Hold on, and hold on tightly

Hold on, and don’t let go

Of my love

…

Hold on, hold on tightly

Hold on, hold on tightly

Rise up, rise up

With wings like eagles

You run, you run

You run and not grow weary

U2, “Drowning Man”

The next morning, Daniel does not awake at 7:00 a.m. to shower and shave.  He does not meticulously iron his shirt and pants.  He does not set up a chicken for baking.  Instead, he does something that he has done only five or six other times in his entire life:  he ditches church.  He dozes through the church bell, the Sunday School lesson, the call to worship, the Lord’s Prayer.  He makes it halfway through the sermon until he hears the deadbolt on the front door slide open followed by the sound of the door opening.

I knew someone lived here! is the first thought that jumps into his mind as he scrambles for a robe feeling a bit like Goldilocks cornered in the bedroom by the three surprised bears.  He only hears one set of feet shuffling into the foyer accompanied by a strange “Ommmmmmm…Ommmmmmm…Ommmmmmmm” sound.

Peeking out of his bedroom, Daniel can see that it is John Bradford.  He is unceremonious as he intones “ommmmmm”, not like a yogi sitting cross-legged, eyes-fixed, no, John oms like an exterminator spraying for bugs, or like Gene Kelly humming to himself while strolling the streets of Paris.

“Well, hi there!” calls John as he notices Daniel standing on the walkway over the foyer.  “I thought you’d be at church or something.”

Church! Ooops! “I guess I just needed to take a break.”

John motions for Daniel to come down and join him as he walks toward the kitchen.  He follows as John continues to om, his flip-flops shuffling across the wooden floor.  Daniel reads the back of his tee-shirt which says “Unfortunately, it’s Buddha”.

“Coffee?” asks John as he begins to pour some coffee beans out of a bag into an electric grinder.

“Sure,” replies Daniel at the same time that John flips the switch for the grinder.

“I said do you want some coffee!!?” hollers John.

Daniel nods his response.

“How’s your stay so far?!!!” continues John as the grinder whirs and crackles.

“I can’t understand -” begins Daniel until John raises a finger in a gesture to wait and then points to the grinder.  He switches it off and silence rushes back into the kitchen.

“How’s it going?” asks John.

Daniel pooches out his lips as he nods and says, “It’s been interesting.”

After a little effort, John separates a filter from a stack of filters in a cabinet near the coffee maker and begins to get everything ready for brewing.  He nods to Daniel with his eyebrows slightly raised.  Daniel smiles as he notices the front of John’s tee-shirt which reads “I have the body of a god…”.

“Have you been in the pool yet?” he asks as he walks out of the kitchen and through the main living room toward the sliding glass window that leads to the back patio.

“No, not yet.”

“Let’s take a swim,” he says as he turns halfway back to Daniel and gives a little toss of his head toward the patio.

Daniel is unsure about this.  It’s a fairly cool morning and the thought of getting in a pool gives him a few shivers.  But before he has a chance to object, John is already stripped naked and preparing for a plunge off the diving board.

Daniel is suddenly grateful that Ashley packed his swimming trunks and runs upstairs to change into them.  He rather likes the idea of skinny-dipping, as long as the other swimmer has breasts.  Hairy man boobs aren’t what he has in mind.

When Daniel, reaches the pool, John is floating on his back in the deep end.  Steam is rising off the heated water into the chilled autumn air, and thick clouds mute the sun’s glory.

Daniel cannot recall a single cloudy Sunday in his childhood.  It was as if his fervent belief as a child that every Sunday was supposed to be sunny somehow made it so.  It didn’t matter how rainy Saturday was, Sunday was going to be sunny just as the name suggested.  He has considered researching weather records for Oklahoma from the late seventies and early eighties to see if there is any evidence to support this anomaly, but he knows what he will find: an average occurrence of Sunday rainfall in the vicinity.

“Come on, man!  Let’s see your best dive!” calls John as he strokes his way back to the shallow end.

Daniel is a little grateful that John is no longer sunny side up as he steps out into the cool air and makes his way to the diving board.

“I don’t really have any great dives,” confesses Daniel.

“Just so long as it has a good splash, Daniel,” encourages John.

Daniel is suddenly tickled by the idea of doing a cannonball, which involves jumping from the board, tucking in the legs, and using just the right rotation as you displace as much water with as much force onto as many people as possible.  He gingerly tests the water with his big toe. Ooooh, warm! He approaches the board quickening his pace, but being very careful not to run.  No running by the pool! In one fluid motion he strides to the end of the board, jumps straight up, dips the board down low, and takes a mighty spring out toward the gleeful spectator waiting for the last possible millisecond to tuck and rotate slightly back.  Smack!  He hits the water and knows immediately that it is a perfect cannonball.  He can feel the force as he plunges into the steaming water.  For a moment he stays curled up, suspended in the warm fluid.  He lets the water cradle him.  Time seems to stop.  Everything seems to stop.  For a brief moment everything just is. He has no word to describe this feeling.  It seems new, but somehow familiar.  His mind flickers briefly on the dream from the other night, then he stretches out his body and kicks up to the surface.

“Woo doggies! That was a serious splash for a skinny guy!” hollers John as Daniel surfaces and swims to the shallow end.

They both laugh.

After a few more cannonballs and belly flops, John grabs a couple of towels out of the little pool house and tosses one to Daniel as he climbs out of the pool.

“Let’s check on the coffee,” suggests John as he opens the door to the house.

Daniel is greeted by the smell of brewed coffee and newsprint as he enters the house after completing his thorough drying routine.  It triggers memories of his father in the morning in his grungy, blue bathrobe and reading glasses, reading the morning paper.  He feels the stillness of those mornings when the only sound was the sound of a second pot brewing interrupted only by the gentle sound of a newspaper as pages are turned, straightened, or folded.  He breathes it in deep.

John has already poured the coffee and is rubbing salt and pepper into a couple of ribeye steaks.  The butcher paper lays discarded on the marble-top counter dripping with the juices of the thick cuts.  Daniel’s wife prefers to call animal blood “juices” to ease her discomfort with eating meat, and Daniel has adopted the term not out of consideration, but because he doesn’t like to be criticized for his words.  The grill on the gas range is already lit and waiting for its opportunity to serve.

“How do you like yours, Daniel?” asks John as he slaps the first steak down on the grill causing a rush of sizzle, steam, and smoke and releasing its carnal perfume.

This guy is something else thinks Daniel. He doesn’t ask if I even want a steak.  For all he knows, I could be a vegetarian!

Let’s see, if I ask for well done he’ll think I’m a pussy.  If I ask for rare, I won’t enjoy it.  My dad always orders…“Medium,” he replies, mouth beginning to water as John slaps down another steak.  At least sixteen ounces, maybe twenty.

John’s thick body is barely covered by his white tarry-cloth towel.  His middle-aged gut hangs over the cinched towel and his chest sags.  He just walks around like this, then marvels Daniel.  Naked and hanging.

“So, Ashley tells me you’re a meditation teacher,” begins Daniel as John begins to sniff and grab a couple of tissues out of a box on a coffee table in the living room.  He blows his nose as he shuffles back into the kitchen discarding the tissue into a decorative wastebasket. No trashbag notices Daniel with slight discomfort.

“Yeah.  Me and a couple of buddies.”  He sips his coffee. “It’s a great little group.  You should come and give it a try.  We’ve got a class tonight.”

Daniel nods slowly as he considers the thought and pooches out his lips a little.  Daniel would not want to cramp Ashley’s style, but he remembers that she goes on Thursday nights.

“Listen,” says Daniel, “Ashley seems different lately.”  Daniel takes a sip from his coffee, taken black.  “I don’t know.  She seems more…kind of accepting.  Like this whole thing.”  Daniel gestures around to the house.  “A year or so ago, I thought she was just going to bust, but now she just seems all sort of…serene.”

John inhales deeply from his nose as he sips and nods in recognition.  “Yes.  I’ve seen Ashley really blossom over the last year.  She’s really burned off a lot of stuff.  Everyone just loves her.  She’s like an angel.”

“Yeah.  She is.”  Daniel looks down at his bare feet…

It’s you I like.

and thinks about his wife…

It’s not the things you wear.

and how loving she’s been to him…

It’s not the way you do you hair, but it’s you I like.

but he doesn’t think in his mind.

The way you are right now, the way down deep inside you

For the moment, his mind is gone.

Not the things that hide you.

He is holding her deep inside.

Not your toys, they’re just beside you.

But it’s you I like,

Every part of you.

Your skin, your eyes, your feelings whether old or new.

I hope that you’ll remember even when you’re feeling blue

That it’s you I like, it’s you yourself, it’s you.

He is holding her in his heart.

It’s you…I…like. (Fred Rogers- “It’s you I like” http://pbskids.org/rogers/songlist/song5_ra.html)

“So, what time do you guys meet?  I mean…do we have to bring anything? Burned off?  What does he mean she’s burned off a lot of stuff?  Does this involve fire? I’ve never done this kind of thing before. Does it cost money or do…”

“It’s free.  We start around seven o’clock or so…just when everybody shows up.  You don’t have to know anything or bring anything.”  He shrugs and says, “It’s nothing but just learning how to be still.”  And then he looks right into Daniel’s eyes, cocking his head slightly, and smiles the most heart-warming smile.  His eyes are like the silver light of the moon, gently falling on the dark landscape and illuminating all that surrender their cover.  As he steps passed Daniel to tend the grill, he pats Daniel on the shoulder and says, “You’re welcome to come.  We’d all love to see you.”

Through the course of their lunch, Daniel learns that John is an expert on poisons and is considered by his profession to be the world’s leading expert on mercury (Hg).  He lectures all over the world on the subject.  He learns that John builds kites as a hobby and has won two national sport kite tournaments and even received an honorable mention in a kite fighting tournament in Bangkok.  After they conclude their meal with a couple of ice cream sandwiches, John leaves Daniel with the directions to the Unitarian church where the meditation group meets.

“Just come right in the west entrance.  We meet in the first classroom on the right.”

“Ok, I’ll be there,” says Daniel, not knowing what to expect.

Daniel has a few hours before meditation class so he decides to take a jog and shower up and get dressed.

What do people wear at these things he wonders.  He imagines a bunch of chanting dreamy-eyed hippies sitting in a circle around a candle holding crystals.  He imagines women speaking in intoned, entranced, fortuneteller voices about energy, auras, the great beyond, and chakras.  He settles on jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers.

After dressing, he decides to wander the house a bit.  He comes across the library which reminds him of the library in which Carey Grant, mistaken for a secret agent, gets a bottle of bourbon poured down his throat by James Mason’s prep school dropouts in “North By Northwest”.  Not surprisingly, it is full of beautifully bound volumes of any kind of book imaginable.  There appears to be no system for the shelving of books with the possible exception of color.  He notices that books with red on the spine are loosely grouped on the far wall along with books with blue on the spine, green and yellow and brown on the west wall and a mish-mash on the east wall.  The wall holding the front entrance has no books at all and presents an exception for the room’s similarities with the Alfred Hitchcock room.  It’s filled with knick-knacks.  From top to bottom, the shelves on this wall are filled with Hummel statues, tiny bells with U.S. state emblems atop the handle, commemorative plates (including the Wizard of Oz and Elvis collections), and hundreds of snow globes. But the clear majority of shelf space is dedicated to that most precious of collectable statues:  Precious Moments.  There are thousands of the miniature, adorable, little boys and girls scattered around the mahogany shelves all peering innocently at each other with their large teardrop eyes.  He shakes his head in disbelief.  He has never seen nor has he ever wanted to see such a display of “preciousness” in his life.

So disgustingly cute with their sappy little expressions and greeting card scenes.  Yick!

After a quick meal of pasta and veggies, Daniel heads to the First Unitarian Universalist Church of Richardson, Texas to join what he suspects is a cult.

He is welcomed by a group of quiet whisperers ranging in age from teenager to retiree.  There are no hippies, no crystals, and no open bags of granola.

“Are you here for meditation?” whispers one very attractive middle-aged woman as she stands to offer her hand.

“Yeah, is this it?” whispers Daniel, still not sure why this occasion requires whispers.

“Yes.  We are waiting for the other meditation group to get out.”  She points to a door on the right.  “We don’t want to disturb them.  They are still at it.”

“Oh…” Daniel nods, “I see.  I’m Daniel Roberts.  John invited me to come.  My wife has been coming for a year or so.”

“Oh?” she asks.

“Ashley Roberts.”

The woman’s eyes get big and a warm smile emerges from her face.  “Hey everybody,” she quietly addresses the others who are waiting for their meditation session, “this is Ashley’s guy!”  Everyone turns to look at Daniel as if they will all suddenly recognize him.  They smile and quietly offer greetings as they examine him, as if for some mark or some indication that he is indeed Ashley’s.

“I’m Susan.  Everyone just loves your wife.  It’s like we can all feel her energy lift us up when she enters the room.  You’re a lucky guy,” she adds.

“Yeah.  I guess I am,” says Daniel with sincerity as their eyes lock for a warm moment.  And for the moment, he really does feel lucky.

At that moment, the door to the meditation classroom swings open and Daniel hears the now familiar “Ommmmm…Ommmmm…” and John Bradford shuffles out of the room followed by seven other people all chatting softly and tenderly with each other.

“Well, there he is!” says John.  “The master has finally joined us!”

No one seems surprised by this unusual greeting except for Daniel who is utterly baffled.

“Has everybody met Daniel?”  There are a few nods. “This is Daniel Roberts.  He’s Ashley’s dear husband.”  He steps in a little closer and squeezes Daniel’s arm.  “I guess you made it here okay?”

“Yeah.  It’s a familiar area.”  Daniel hadn’t realized that it was less than half a mile from the counseling clinic until he drove right passed it on the way.

“I’ll be right back.  I gotta point little Percy at the porcelain.”  John shuffles away to the men’s room while the group moves into the classroom and takes seats in a circle around a large candle.

There are fifteen people in all. Some appear to know each other while others seem to be new like Daniel, sitting quietly or engaging in short spurts of small talk and introduction.  All the lights are off.  Only the vanilla scented candle illuminates the faces of these spiritual seekers.  Some eyes sparkle, others look far away, perhaps in anticipation of the rituals that will follow, while others just look down at the candle.

Susan is steadily chatting and listening to everyone around her.  Her eyes are clear and luminous as they attempt to hold the gaze of anyone she talks with.  Hers, like John’s, seem to emit a subtle light that cast a spell of deep love and peace on anyone who is willing to receive it.  One man that she talks with cannot look at her at all.  He stares, red-faced, at his shoes through his unfashionable glasses as he tediously describes his week to her.

She has jet-black hair cut right at her shoulders and full, red painted lips.  Her smile is easy and slightly crooked.  Although her figure is lovely with abundant breasts and curvy hips, Daniel is steadily drawn to her eyes and her voice.  She speaks in deep, maternal tones that hypnotize him into speechlessness.  Her spell is only broken by John’s entrance.

As he heads for the only empty chair he drags his hand across the messy hair of a skinny college boy.  He sits between an older, white haired woman and a pretty, young, plump woman and says, “Are we all here?”

Some people look around as if they had some method for determining the answer to his question when in fact John had told Daniel that there was a different number every time.  Daniel wonders if it is only a coincidence that there are exactly the right number of chairs for tonight’s session.  He also wonders if John regularly addresses members of the group as master.

John and Susan discuss which one of them will lead the group today.  John, as Daniel will learn, always chooses Susan to lead over himself.

“I’m John,” he begins, “and this is our beautiful teacher who we are so fortunate to have.”  He looks tenderly at her as she introduces herself.  Daniel is reminded of the little Precious Moments figurines in John’s house.

“I’m so glad that you are all here.” As she speaks, she takes time to acknowledge every person in the room. “For those of you who are here for the first time, I’m Susan Clark and this is our beginning meditation class.  We always like to start by introducing ourselves.”  She turns to the man sitting next to her and he picks up her queue.

“Hi.  I’m Robert.”  He looks to the woman next to him and she introduces herself.  One by one, each person offers a few words of greeting and introduction, some timid, some bold.

“Hi.  I’m Daniel.  This is my first time.”

After all the introductions are done, Susan continues.  “I see some new faces, so I’d like to begin by sort of giving you an idea of what we do here.   I don’t know if you’ve meditated before or if you’ve done yoga or tai chi or anything like this before but the main thing you need to know is that it’s just learning how to get quiet and still.  It can be a spiritual or religious experience for you or it can just be a great healthful exercise that will improve your quality of life.  It doesn’t matter.  We’re going to talk a lot about The Energy or The Light or The Stream and all that is is the stuff that makes this world and everything in it alive.  You can think of this as God or Jesus or Buddha or whatever concept you feel comfortable with.  Some people experience it as a radiant, golden light or maybe a warm vibration or tingling or you may hear it or maybe you just  imagine it and that it perfectly fine.  Our teacher used to say that first you imagine it, then you see it, then you feel it, then you know it.  So it is just fine to imagine it…a radiant, golden light.”

Daniel is enthralled by Susan’s talk.  He thinks back on all the times as a child that he felt the warm, vibration and light that cradled him every night as he fell asleep.  He thinks of his plunge into the pool earlier in the day when time stopped.  He thinks of his childhood protector.  Yes, there had been someone hadn’t there!  This is not just a dream.  Someone or something protected me that day.  I know this energy or light or whatever!

“Just to give you an idea of what we’re going to do let me just talk you through the basic exercises.  Does anyone have any questions or comments about anything so far?  If it doesn’t make sense to you right now it’s ok.  After we do this for awhile it will all just sort of fall into place.”  Seeing that no one from this entranced group of people has anything to say, she continues, “The first exercise is called Running the Energy and it’s just a great exercise for getting familiar with the Energy.  Plus it can really help you center and balance and heal yourself.  All it is is-”

As Susan continues, Daniel tries to soak in every word she is saying.  It doesn’t seem strange at all. His earlier apprehensions melt away as he feels his body relax and his mind begin to let go and focus at the same time. He is eager to get started.  She goes on to give brief descriptions of the evening’s practices and then begins with the first one.

[NOTE:  Edit out some of the detail in the meditation instruction ]

“Okay.  Let’s talk about how to sit.  To some folks it is really important to use the lotus position and keep the spine perfectly straight, but most of us here in the U.S. are accustomed to sitting in chairs.  The important thing is that we create a closed circuit with our bodies.  This will help us at first to experience the Energy by letting it build up in our bodies.  So cross you legs at your ankles then lay your hands, palms down, on your thighs lightly touching the tips of your index fingers with you the tips of your thumbs.”

Daniel tries to feel his own body’s current flowing through him.  He can just barely feel the subtle vibration of electricity beginning to flow.

“Now close your eyes.  Start by taking a few deep breaths, and try to fill your lungs from the bottom to the top.  With every breath, let the tensions of the day just flow away.  Just let go.  This is your time to spend with your divine self.  Let all the worries and pressures of the day just float away as you… breathe.”  She leads the class through a relaxation exercise that involves squeezing and releasing muscles starting from the feet and working the way up the body.  Daniel feels the warm vibrations increase as every part of his body begins to let go until he can begin to hear and feel his own blood flowing freely through his veins.

“Take a moment to enjoy this feeling of relaxation.  Anytime you feel stressed out during the day you can come back to this relaxed state by just taking a few minutes to let go.

Let’s begin the Running of the Energy exercise, and we will do it three times.  Take your attention to the top of your head, just at the place of the baby’s soft spot, the fontanel.  It is covered by thick bone now, but this is where we are connected to the Stream.  Every second of the day, this stream of golden light is pouring into you and filling you with life.  Now imagine that you can somehow plug this hole.  Try to stop the stream.  You may feel a tingling sensation or itching or pressure or warmth at the top of your head.  This is just like if you put your finger in a swift stream.  Your finger is not stopping the stream, but it is resisting it enough that you can feel the energy of the rushing water.  And now let the Stream rush into you, filling your brain with radiant, golden light.  Now, imagine that you are gathering the light into a little ball and placing it behind your forehead right above the bridge of your nose.  This is the Point of Will or the Will Power Center.  From here you can direct the light throughout your body.  And now, holding the thought of cleansing or letting go, move the light down the front of your face, slowly.  I sometimes like to imagine that it’s like honey just oozing down my face and making everything it touches warm and tingly.  Down your chin.  Down your neck.  Let it split across your shoulders.  Down the top part of your arms.  Down the lower part of your arms and into the palms of your hands.  Try to focus the light into a pinpoint in your palms.  Feel it get hot or tingly.  You can actually feel it there in the center of you palm.”

Yes!  I feel it!  It’s really there. Daniel is astounded as he feels his palms filling with heat and vibration.

“And now, leaving the energy there in your hands, draw your attention back to the top of your head.  Let the light flow in.  Gather it up.  Take it to the Point of Will.  Still holding the thought of cleansing, let it wash back into your brain system, filling every cell with light, letting everything go.  Allow it to gather at the brain stem and begin to go down your spine.  You may feel it stop as it reaches some tension or blockage.  Just imagine that the Energy is like Crystal Drano that just dissolves anything that blocks the flow or just simply ask that it be so.  At the base of the spine, the light splits and flows into your thighs until it joins the energy in your hands.  Allow it to flow down your legs to your feet and out into the Earth.  Just let it flow, flow, flow out of you, down into the Earth.  All of your worries and tensions and troubles just flow out.  And now, take just a moment to say a word of gratitude in your own way for this energy.  It’s the unconditional love that flows freely from the source to all living things.  The Christ Light.  It is so lavishly poured over you and into you.  It is anointing you, blessing you in every moment of your life.”

Then Daniel feels it.  He feels something that he has no clear memory of feeling, at least not like this.  It comes from deep down and grows until it fills him and flows out of him in a stream of tears that pour freely from his closed eyes.  It is gratitude.  Not gratitude the idea or gratitude the gesture or gratitude the word, but gratitude the living force and it has overcome him with a strength that brings him to his knees.  Not his physical knees, but the knees of a new kind of legs. He kneels with gratitude, and now he feels something else new:  Humility.  He feels compelled to bow to this living force, this loving force.  He bows in deep surrender to his Maker, his Source.

“And now, with a breath, return your attention to the top of your head to start the process again.  Again, create the barrier to feel the Stream for a moment, then let it go.  Allow it to pour into your brain.  Gather up the light into a ball and bring to the Point of Will.  This time, hold the thought of healing. As you flow it through you, allow it to touch any part of you that needs healing.  You don’t have to tell it where.  It knows where to go.”   And so they repeat the same course, first down the front to the palms then down the spine and out of the feet.

The third run is with the thought of peace, and when Susan gets to the part at which the Energy goes down the spine she introduces a word that will forever become Daniel’s word.  It is an ancient and powerful word.  This word, for Daniel, will serve as a key to realms unexplored.

“And now we will chant the word Shanti which is the Sanskrit word for Peace.  As we chant it, it will create a vibration of peace to flow through your spine and through your entire body.  Allow yourself to resonate with the Shanti.”

The people begin to clear their throats as Susan begins the chant, which is sung with the most basic of all melodic patterns: Sol – Mi, the pattern that is at the center of all children’s songs and the song that Daniel’s mother used to call her children home for dinner: “Miiiiiiiii-chaaaaael, Daaaaaaaaaa-nieeeeeeel, Gaaaaaaaaa-briel”

“Shaaaaaaaaaan-tiiiiiiii,” she begins, along with a chorus of her students. “Shaaaaaaaaaan-tiiiiiiii…Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan-tiiiiiiiii.”

And in that moment, Daniel has his first adult taste of peace, peace that as a child he knew how to find by lying in the grass and watching the clouds form into dragons and elephants and whales, or by pulling off his shoes and socks to let his feet dip and kick in the creek that ran near Uncle Ray’s farm, or rocking in the arms of a loved one…his mother’s, his father’s, his…

Daaaaaaaa-nieeeeeel.

“And now for our second exercise tonight:  Listening In.  You may open your eyes so I can show you again how to do this exercise.”  Daniel is brought back to the outer world that he has only just realized that he had left.  Susan takes a moment to smile at members of the group.  Daniel finds himself watching her eyes with anticipation.  She turns to him next.  He resists the desire to look away.  Her eyes meet his eyes.  When she blinks, it is very slowly and gracefully.  She looks at him both as a lover gazes at her partner and as a mother watches her sleeping child.  And once again, time stops or leaves or ceases to exist as he feels her pour her love and peace into him.  He feels connected, not just to Susan, but to everyone in the room.  She turns to other students.   “We borrow this practice from the Sikh tradition in India. First you will take the first two fingers of your hands and place them gently over your eyelids, elbows out.  Then you will use your thumbs to plug up your ears.  Now listen.  Listen for any sound that you hear inside of you.  Try to focus on a particular sound.  You may hear a ringing sound, like a sustained bell, or your heart beating, or a deep rushing sound, or crickets chirping, or any number of sounds.  Try to concentrate on one of them.  When your arms get tired, bring them down.  Then focus on any light that you see in your inner vision and try to become a part of it.  Try to become one with the light.  If it helps you, you may chant in your mind as you breath One (inhale) With the Light (exhale).  This part is meditation.  Let your mind rest in the Light.  We will do this three times.  Each time, I want you to try to listen a little deeper.  Listen beyond the sounds you first hear.”

With each round, Daniel goes deeper and deeper and gets stiller and stiller.  The colors and light that come from the stimulation of his optic nerve entrance him as he chants over and over One with the Light until the light is no longer out in front of his vision but all around him.  Later, he would be reminded of one of his favorite quiet games as a child during which he would press on his eyelids just like this.  He imagined that he was taking a journey.  First he would see browns and reds as he rushed forward into this realm of light and color.  Then he would see stars of every color of the rainbow.  His final destination was always a field of golden or white stars.  His parents saw him doing this once and asked him to stop it out of concern for his eyes.  But here he is, years later, taking this inward journey once again.

At times, Daniel can feel his body get restless and his mind begins to wander. But each time, as if by magic, as if she can read his mind, Susan says, “If you feel your mind wander, just gently bring it back to your mantra or the Light.  One with the Light.”  Daniel can’t tell if it’s been ten minutes or an hour since they started.  Time has become blurred and so has space.  Daniel begins to feel weightless or even bodyless.

“And now, become aware of this beautiful stream flowing into you, connecting you with the Source.  Look up into this stream.  Imagine that you are reaching up into it.  Ask for the Light to take you up further into the stream.”  Up?  How can I go up? He hesitates.  His mind wants to resume control, to keep him grounded, but Susan’s gentle, coaxing voice empowers him to let go once again. “Up into the light.  If you like, you can imagine that you are holding my hand as we go up together.” Just do it. Just ask. Just trust.  Let go. Please take me up the stream. Daniel imagines that he is taking Susan’s slender hand. First he feels the buzzing, humming energy increase in frequency and power until he can hear it.  It’s like the sound of an electrical current of the sustained ring of bell.  It intensifies until Daniel’s ears are ringing with it and his body is throbbing with it.  Daniel can feel himself rising.  He can feel the weight of his body leaving completely as if he has a second body that is made only of light.  Slowly. Up. Up. Up.  What happens next, Daniel could never have imagined, never have expected.  The events that follow begin to precede Susan’s words,

Daaaaaaaa-nieeeeeel

removing all doubt of the experience as merely manifestations of powerful suggestion.  The events that follow will change the way Daniel sees the world forever.  He will never be able to fully put his trust in the world of things and material and appearances again.  He will never be able to accept the illusion of separation again, because Daniel, to his great surprise, is not alone.  Susan’s hand is gone, but two other hands are taking his hands into their warm embrace.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 7: Visiting Home

I’m coming home,
Lord I’m coming home
I’ll make it short,
I’ll make it sweet,
Make it up to you and me.
I’m not the same guy I used to be,
What can I do to make you believe?

Bryan Adams, “Coming Home”

After Khan had left, Daniel is lying awake in his borrowed bed, his mind whirring away with guilty thoughts.  He keeps imagining the hurt look on Ashley’s face that he will surely encounter on his visit later that same day.  All the while, his body and head are spinning with the lingering effects of the wine and his ears are ringing from the noise and music of the party.  His stomach is knotting up with worry as he turns the thought of his neglect over and over in his mind until he can no longer endure it.

By the time he has cleaned and polished both his black and brown shoes six times, it is nearly four o’clock in the morning.  He collapses into the bed, empty of thought and empty of feeling, and sinks into a restless sleep, his hands fuming with black and brown polish.

When the phone rings at nine o’clock, Daniel is confronted with a hangover and the sound of his wife’s voice.

“Hello?” croaks Daniel.

“Hi,” says Ashley with a flat tone to her voice.

“Hi,” replies Daniel, worry and guilt rushing back into his throbbing head.

There is a long pause.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

For some reason, Daniel thinks about his one-hug cousin, Tareq, and chuckles a little saying, “Okay, I guess.”

“You’re not doing great?” asks Ashley, a little mystified.

“What?” replies Daniel, confused.

“Nothing,” snickers Ashley, her voice lightening.  “Hey, I just need to know when you are coming by today, Lucky.”

Daniel hears no hurt in her voice, no resentment.

“How about 11:30?  Maybe we can all sit down and eat lunch together?”

“Sure.  That’s fine.”

There is another long pause.

“Ash,” says Daniel, “I’ve really missed you and the kids.”  Daniel, who is used to lying about missing people, is surprised to hear truth coming from his mouth. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called.  I guess I’ve just been a little overwhelmed.”

“I know, honey,” she replies, “Maybe that’s what you needed…to be overwhelmed.”

Ashley’s voice is wistful, and Daniel can hear it.  In fact, Daniel can hear things in her voice that he did not hear before.  He can hear her sorrow and her pain.  He can hear her hope and her love.  He can hear her fatigue and her patience. He hears her.

“I love you, Ashley.”

“I love you, too, Lucky.  I’ll see you soon.  Okay?”

“Okay.  Bye.”

Driving home,

Daniel is quiet.  He does not clap.  He does not carry on imaginary conversations.  He does not sing Jingle Bells with nonsense words.  No, Daniel is thinking and typing.  He is thinking about the events of the last two days:  coming home early from work to find packed bags, the shining eyes and warm welcome of John Bradford, the house with the cornucopia refrigerator, the dream, the whacking off, Khan and the party

Fireay dao, Fireay dao, the feelings… all of the feelings.

Am I becoming weak thinks Daniel as he continuously and unconsciously types the word P-A-S-S-I-O-N into the air around the steering wheel. Needy?  What’s with the tears?  And the language! He imagines how his mother might react if she heard him curse.  With that thought, he breaks the silence.

“Fuck Fuck Fuuuck Fuck Fuck Fuuuck Fuck Fuck Fuuuck Fu- Fuuuuuuck,” he begins to the tune of Jingle Bells, “Fuck Fuck Fuck Fu-Fuck Fuck Fuck Fu-Fu-Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck…FUCK!”

He begins to laugh hysterically as he attempts to continue the popular wintertime chorus, “Fu-ha ha ha ha!”  He is whooping and hollering and laughing and cursing Like a madman!  Like a fucking loony tune.  Shit!  If I’m going to be crazy, it ought to at least be the fun kind!

As Daniel gets near his house, he sees Laura and Jacob on the front porch showing off their new Halloween costumes. Laura is a witch and Jacob looks like the victim of a brutal attack. Daniel decides he must be a zombie of some sort. They both stand up at the sight of their dad’s Nissan. Laura begins to jump around in excitement while Jacob just watches.

It’s my kids! And I really missed them. I really did! thinks Daniel as he steps out of the car.

“Daddy!” screams Laura as she runs into his arms.

“Oh, baby. I really missed you.” He holds Laura’s slender body close to his while kneeling down to her level. Jacob walks closer. He appears cautious and hesitant. Daniel senses that he is reaching out to him, but feels the awkward distance that has been growing between them. Daniel waves him closer until he can grab his arm. He tries to look him in the eye as he says, “I missed you too, son.” He wants to tell Jacob that he is sorry. Sorry for all the times he didn’t play catch with him because he was too busy. Sorry for ducking out of his baseball games early to get ahead on his project. Sorry for not telling him anymore how much he loves him. Sorry. But he looks away and says instead, “So! What’s for lunch?” and ushers them all into the front door.

“Hot dogs! Do you like my costume?” pipes Laura.

“What a cute witch! Oh, and Jake, what a gruesome…whatever you are.”

“Zombie,” he says.

“Zombie!  Yes of course, I knew it was something like that.  Did you do that makeup yourself?”

He just shrugs his shoulders.

“What are you going to be Daddy?  Are you going to be the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz?”

Daniel gives her a funny look and asks, “The Tin Man?  Where do you get this stuff?  Daddy’s probably not going to dress up for Halloween this year.”

“Awwwww,” sighs Laura, clearly disappointed.

“Hot dogs, eh?” Daniel can feel his own heart jump a little bit at the thought of eating hot dogs.

“And macaroni and cheese!” adds Laura.

“All right!” Daniel sees Ashley in the kitchen. “Mommy’s really taking care of us!”

He catches her eye as he walks into the kitchen to greet her. Her eyes are searching him as she expects him to look different. “Hey there,” she says.

They are standing in the same exact spots where Daniel shared Dr. Collins’ special name for him.  It is as if the ghost of that moment is haunting the present moment as they stand staring, searching.

“Hey,” he says wishing he could show her the renovations that were beginning to shape his inner world. “Hot dogs.  Is this a special occasion?”

“Of course, ” she explains as she begins to set the table.  “You didn’t think I would have something as bland and common as steak for your little homecoming!  Did you?” she teases him with her words and gaze.  “I suppose I’m a lucky woman to have a husband who gets his bell rung by processed meats!”

They laugh together at this remark.  Daniel has always been fond of hot dogs, Vienna sausages, devilled ham, and Spam, and Ashley gets no end of pleasure in teasing him over this fact.

“Kids!” she yells, “It’s time for lunch.  Go get out of your costumes and wash up!”  Her voice is not at all harsh, but lyrical as she sings her children into their rooms to change.

“So, how about that house?” asks Ashley, eyes twinkling.

“Did you know it was going to be so awesome?” asks Daniel with surprise.

“Yeah, the meditation group met there once.  Have you found the meditation room, yet?”

Daniel searches his memory until he recalls a small, unadorned room on the first story with throw pillows and odd little chairs with arm rests and no legs.  He remembers a hanging bell with a little hammer laid next to it and a big star-shaped candle in the center of the room.

“I guess so.  You mean the one with the funny chairs and stuff?”

Ashley laughs freely as she answers, “Yeah, I don’t think you could miss it.”

“Look.  Ash, I should have called,” begins Daniel.

Ashley stops him, shaking her head saying, “Daniel, it’s okay.  You are lost right now.”  The word lost seems to hang in the air for a moment.  She reaches across the table for his hand and it meets hers.  “It’s not that we don’t miss you, but what we all really need from you right now is to find your way.  You’ll be back here before you know it.  Just trust me.”

Daniel is slowly awaking to the realization that he has been wandering for years, neglecting his marriage, neglecting his children.  It is starting to really sink in.  Where have I been?  Okay, so I’m lost, but where have I been?

“Can I sit by Daddy?”  asks Laura as she appears out of nowhere looking to Daniel like an angel.

“Come here,” motions Daniel, “You can sit right on my plate if you want!”  He grabs her and begins to tickle her while she dissolves into laughter.  “I’ll just eat you up.  Ash, pass the mustard.”

“Dad – hee hee hee – Da – hee hee hee,” convulses Laura, unable to speak through the laughter until, finally, Daniel relents and lets her go.

“Daddy’s being so silly!” exclaims Laura to Ashley in surprised delight.

“Believe it or not,” explains Ashley beaming at Daniel with hope, “your daddy knows quite a bit about being silly.”

“Really?”  she asks curiously, looking first at Daniel slumped in his chair and then at her mommy.

“Really,” reassures Ashley as she pats and holds her husband’s polish-stained hand.  “Jake?  Are you coming?” she calls.

“I’m not hungry!” he calls back from his bedroom.

Ashley gets up from the table and steps into the hall to say, “That’s okay, you don’t have to be hungry.  You just have to sit at the table with us.”

Jacob does not question his mother’s authority on this issue.  He knows that it is a battle that he will never win.  Instead, he storms out of his room, yanks the chair out from under the kitchen table, and sulkily slams down in to the chair.  Smudges of makeup and fake blood are still lingering behind his ears and on his throat.

Daniel can feel Jacob’s resentment emanating from him.  He has never really experienced his son in this way.  He feels something inside of himself prodding him to do something.  He is making the connection between Jacob’s feeling and his treatment of him.  For any emotionally healthy human being, this is child’s play in the realm of feelings and love, but to Daniel it is a revelation.  Previously, he was only capable of either ignoring Jacob’s feelings or resenting him for them, especially if it was a feeling that was on the list.  All of this happens in a split second, and Daniel is at a loss for words.

What is happening? Daniel thinks back on Jacob’s childhood and how they used to watch movies together, and how funny and silly he was.  He wonders where that Jacob is now.  When did Jacob turn into this?  He won’t even look at me.  I’ve really screwed this up.

As they eat lunch, Daniel listens to Laura talk about 1^st grade, Halloween, and the skating party she attended the night before.  Ashley excuses Jacob from the table as soon as he is done eating.  He goes back into his room to play video games.  At one point, Daniel and Ashley had promised each other that they would never buy a video game system for their kids because they believed that it was harmful to the family, but Daniel had pushed to buy it for Jacob’s last birthday.

After lunch, Laura goes outside to ride her bike and Daniel and Ashley sit down in the living room to talk.

“What is going on with Jake?” begins Daniel.

“Well, Lucky, he is angry with you,” says Ashley with an even tone.

“Actually, yeah, I kind of figured that out.  Is it because I’m gone?  Is it because I’ve been a bad dad? What?”  A hint of Daniel’s old resentment is coming out.

“I’m not sure if he really knows why he is angry, honey.  I think he knows that something isn’t right and that you’re not here,” explains Ashley, still searching her husband with her eyes.

“What did you tell him about me being gone?”

Ashley takes in a deep breath and looks up as if the words are written above Daniel’s head.  “I told him the truth, that you need some time away to learn how to express your feelings.”

Daniel is stunned by Ashley’s insight into his problems. “How do you know that?  I barely know that.  I mean…I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing!  How could you know?”

“Because I know everything, dear.  I thought we discussed this already.”  Her eyes are playful and it softens him.

“What did you say to Laura?”

Ashley giggles a little to herself.

“What!  What did you say!?”  Daniel can see the mischief in her eyes.

“Well, I explained that Daddy is a little like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz.  You know? If I only had a heart,” she sings.

A look of recognition comes over Daniels face.  “The Tin Man,” he says, nodding, “Cute.  Well, that explains something.”

“What?” she asks curiously still with that playful look in her eyes that drives other men wild.

“Oh, nothing.  Laura asked me if I was going to dress up as the Tin Man for Halloween.  I’m not sure if she gets it.”

They both laugh together as Daniel sings a few lines from the Tin Man’s song.

When a man’s an empty kettle,

He should be on his mettle.

And yet I’m torn apart.

Just because I’m presumin’

That I could be kind-a human,

If I only had a heart.

“Listen, maybe I should go talk to him,” says Daniel.

She nods, but before he goes she pulls him to her and holds him close to her on the couch.  Daniel begins to swell and throb with emotion.  He can feel the tears, which have flowed so freely this week, come to his eyes, the slight arousal from being near his wife’s loving body, the pain of their separation, and the ache of regret all swirled together and flowing out of him, flowing between them.

Then Ashley, in her best Catherine Hepburn voice, quoting her favorite movie “On Golden Pond” speaks in Daniel’s ear, “You’re my knight in shining armor, and don’t you forget it. You’re gonna get back on that horse, and I’m going to be right behind you.”

“I don’t like horses,” replies Daniel with his best Henry Fonda.

They laugh as they wipe away their shared tears and Daniel gets up to visit Jacob in his room.

When he enters, Jacob is sitting on a beanbag and he is glued to a video game. He does not look up.  Instead, his eyebrows furrow and he clutches the game controller even tighter as he engages in mortal combat with his digital enemy.  Daniel sits on his bed and watches the game for a while.  He marvels at the life-like graphics of the game as Jacob’s character spins and flips and thrusts through the fantasy landscape of the ancient Orient.  He thinks back on hours and hours of Atari Pacman and Frogger and Commodore 64 Load Runner and Zork.  He shakes his head in disbelief when he compares them to what he is looking at now: a virtual reality, movie-like, 3-D world with a full symphonic score to accompany every scene.

“What game is this?” Daniel asks, trying to sound casual.

“Jade Empire,” he says without blinking.

“Cool.”

“You bought it for me on your trip to Las Vegas,” says Jacob his voice edged with sullen dismay.

“Right,” offers Daniel, feeling somewhat defeated. He feels that somewhere along the line he has lost the ability to communicate with his son. “Well, I’m glad you are enjoying it.  It looks like fun.”  He watches for a few more minutes in silence.  He gives up without a fight. “Ok, then.  I guess I’ll see you on Halloween.”

“I’m going with my friends this year.  Mom said it’s okay,” says Jacob still staring at the game.

“All right,” he sighs as he gets up to leave.  “I’ll see you next Saturday then.  Maybe we can play a game together, or maybe we could play some catch or something.  You know, I used to be pretty good at video games and baseb-”

“Sure, whatever.  I’ll see you then, ” Jacob interrupts.

“Great.  I’ll see you then,” says Daniel as he tousles Jacob’s hair and leaves the bedroom.

As he walks down the hall, he begins to do a balancing act with his fingers.  He touches his right thumb to his right pinky finger, then his left thumb to his left pinky finger, then on to the next fingers, then eye-blinking, touching his tongue to his cheeks, and so on always trying to balance the right side with the left.

Ashley recognizes this behavior as he enters the living room and says, “Didn’t go too well, did it.”

“Not really.  We didn’t fight or anything.  I could see that he didn’t want to talk to me or be around me.”

“You’ll find your way with him,” assures Ashley as she takes his hand.  “It’s just going to take some time and some effort.  Show him that you’re truly interested in him.  Over time, he’ll begin to trust you.”

But, I don’t even know where to begin.  He-” begins Daniel.

“Daniel, he needs you.  He needs you desperately,” she implores.

“Well, it sure doesn’t seem – “

“Trust me.  He does.  And you’ll figure it out, Lucky.  You’re a smart guy.”  She smiles and touches her hand to his cheek.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says.

“I know,” she says, smiling and patting him on the cheek.  “I’ll miss you, too.  See you Monday night for trick-or-treating?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he says brightly as he hugs and kisses her.  “Bye,” he yells down the hall.

He catches Laura as she rides her bike up the drive to give her his farewells.  They embrace and she kisses him on the lips.

“Listen, I’ll see you Monday night, sweetie.”

“Okay.”  She looks down at the ground and says sadly, “I guess you haven’t made it the Emerald City yet, huh.”

“No.  I guess not,” replies Daniel with the same sad tone.  Wow.  I guess she does get it.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 6: Bengali House Party

Nish-sho korecho aami a nitur cholona

Tumi hina a jiban amar aakaki oshohi

A haranor bedona pure cholechi sara khon

Keno tumu miche maia bedechila amai thokon

Fireay dao, Fireay dao, amar prem tumi fireay dao

What a foolish game you have played that makes my

heart feel broken.

Without you, my life is totally empty.

I am burning every moment with this pain of loss.

Why did you pretend if you truly would not love me?

Give me back, give me back my love.

Miles, “Fireay Dao” (translation by Hobi Haque)

At 2:15 in the afternoon, the phone rings. Daniel is roused from a nap to answer it.

“Hello?” says Daniel still shaking off sleep.

“Daniel! Ki abusta! What’s up?” answers Khan Rahman.

“Hey. Ki abusta. I decided to take the day off. Did anyone say anything?”

“You know I’ve always got your back, man. Come on! Who you think your talking to here. Khan is taking care of you!”

“What do you mean? What happened?” asks Daniel, concerned.

“I just playing with you, man. Nobody noticed.”

“Hey, how did you get this number?” asks Daniel.

“Your wife gave it to me. What’s going on? Are you two having troubles?” Khan’s tone softens with sincerity.

“Well…I just have some things to work out. It’s going to be okay,” says Daniel reassuringly. “Hey! You should see this place I’m staying at. It is huge.”

“How about tonight! I’ll bring food.”

“Sure. That would be cool.”

“Okay! Now, see, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. I’ll bring a little food, maybe a few friends, we’ll have some drinks. You make your famous focaccia bread.” Khan pretends to inhale the fresh focaccia smell. “Mmmm…tasty.”

Daniel laughs. “Okay, okay. Sounds good. What time will you be here?”

“I leave right now. You don’t got any dogs there do you?“ asks Khan pointedly. He is afraid of dogs.

“No. Maybe a squirrel or two…”

“Shut up! I’m tellin’ you if you had to grow up with the kind of dogs they got in Bangladesh you would feel same way! Ok, I need to get something from home. Ohhh…you gonna like this! I’ve got a special treat for you. Mmmm…very tasty…the best! How I get there?”

“Just a sec.” Daniel runs to get the slip of paper with the directions. He returns and reads them off to Khan.

“Ok. I’ll be there in about an hour,” says Khan.

“Good deal. Dakha habay.”

“Dakha habay!”

After a quick shower and a shave, Daniel throws on some clothes and gets to work in the kitchen. Flour, olive oil, fresh rosemary…hmmm – Daniel takes a quick sniff of the rosemary as he pulls it out of the refrigerator – garlic, yeast, sugar, salt. Skillfully kneading the dough, Daniel begins to revisit his dream. He can still feel the arms around him and the breath on his ear. The words are still reverberating in his head.

Daniel never told anyone what happened that day with the tractor. It’s not that he thought no one would believe him, it was that he just never felt a need to tell anyone. He felt as if this was for him and him alone to know. Throughout his childhood, he would feel those same arms every night just as he was drifting off to sleep, holding him close, speaking little, surrounding him with the same light and warmth that he had experienced the day he was protected from the tractor.

Eventually, though, he began to forget. Forget, not in the sense that he couldn’t remember, but forget in the sense that it was no longer something real to him. He began to shift the loving embrace into the category of dreams, and eventually into the category of memories of dreams.

But when he feels this embrace in his dream so many years later, the words speak to him more deeply than dreams. He senses that the words are coming from beyond his own mind, faint but real.

He sets aside the fragrant dough into two heavily oiled bowls and covers them gently with moist towels to rise. Next, the wine. Daniel returns from the cellar with half a dozen wines of varying vintage and grape and brings them to the wet bar off the main living room which flows off of the kitchen. He slides open the wooden cabinets behind the wet bar to expose an array of spirits. Ding Dong. The doorbell rings.

Daniel opens the door to find Khan holding a cardboard box full of food. “Wow!” says Khan as he surveys the front room and staircase. “You look like you getting to be a rich man! Maybe you should have a cow out here in the yard.”

“A cow?!” exclaims Daniel as Khan steps inside.

“Or at least some chickens,” says Khan with a wide grin, his eyes gleaming with humor. “Man! How much you pay?” asks Khan as Daniel leads him to the kitchen.

“Nothing. This guy is just letting me stay here for free.”

“What?!” shrieks Khan with disbelief. “For no money?!”

“Right, free,” replies Daniel trying to contain his own excitement.

“Man!” Khan begins unpacking his box. When Khan says Man, he always draws it out slowly and in a descending arc. Mmaaaaaaaan! Among other items, he lays out a large Ziploc bag full of fist size pieces of dark red meat, a bag of spices, onions, peppers, a jar of ginger paste, a jar of garlic, a decoratively printed burlap bag full of basmati rice, and some CDs. He pats the bag of meat and asks slowly and articulately, “Do you know what means mutton?”

“Yeah, is that lamb?”

“Goat.”

Daniel examines the bag feeling the tenderness of the meat while Khan takes a peek at the focaccia dough.

“Hmmm. This the focaccia?”

Daniel enjoys how Khan always says focaccia with a rhythmic sort of excitement.

“Yup. It has to rise first.” Daniel makes an expanding motion with his hands wondering if Khan understands. Khan copies the motion, nodding and grinning.

“Yes. It got to get big first.” Khan looks under the cloth to see the dough again. “Man! It look like it almost ready. So big and fluffy. How you do that?”

“Takes practice,” says Daniel smugly.

As Daniel and Khan go about the business of preparing food, they sip wine and talk. Their conversation is easy and light as they talk about the house, the food, and the wine. But as their talk turns to work, Daniel becomes uncomfortable.

“How was your last project,” asks Khan.

Daniel’s eyes, which have become increasingly brighter through the day, go dim again as he considers his words. “Great,” he replies with a forced smile.

“Why you smile like that? I don’t like this fake smile, “ says Khan as he tries to imitate Daniel’s grimace. “If you don’t have a smile, then don’t pretend with this crap.” Khan gestures to his own fake smile.

Daniel tries to improve his smile to make it seem more sincere saying, “What do you mean? This is my smile. The project was fine.”

“Whatever,” says Khan as he briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Come on. What happened?”

Daniel sips his wine and pats out the last round loaf into the olive oil greased pan. Daniel prefers small round focaccia loaves instead of one big sheet so that he can vary the toppings. Finally, inspired by Khan’s candor, he decides to confide in him.

“This is just between you and me. Tik achay?” adds Daniel in Bangla.

Khan shows his white teeth, grinning at the sound of Daniel using his native tongue and replies, “Tik achay,” which means okay.

Daniel draws in a long breath and sets down his wine glass, which Khan immediately refills for him. Khan cannot stand to see a friend with an empty glass.

“I got kicked off the project,” reveals Daniel.

Khan’s eyebrows furrow as he continues to listen.

Daniel begins to rub his face and chin as he carefully selects his words.

“I’ve been having some problems,” begins Daniel. “Charlie wanted me to have some time to ‘get my head straight’, and he’s right. My head is not straight.”

“What you mean?” returns Khan quickly.

“My therapist says I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.”

“What that?”

“It means that I get a lot of thoughts and feelings that I don’t like and I do something over and over until they go away. At work, I’ve been checking my email.”

“What wrong with that? Everybody check their email.” Khan’s eyebrows are furrowed so hard it looks to Daniel like they might break.

“Does everyone check their email thousands of times a day?” replies Daniel with a blend of frustration and humiliation rising in his voice.

“What?!” shrieks Khan, “Thousand times? You check your email a thousand times?”

“They say that I had over twelve thousand clicks to my Yahoo account in one day. I don’t know…that doesn’t even seem possible.”

“Man!”

Daniel gives a quick raise of his eyebrows that says Yeah. Tell me about it.

“So,” says Khan looking like he is solving a puzzle, “that why Ashley kick you out?”

“Yeah. I think she wanted me to have some space to really get things together and, truth be told, I think maybe she couldn’t handle being around me while I’m trying to figure things out. I’m hurting her. I’m not trying to, but I think I’m really hurting her.”

“Listen, Daniel. We’re going to forget about all this tonight. Just forget about it! You’re going to chill with your Bengali cousins tonight!”

“Cousins? I haven’t even met these –“

“After tonight? They going to be your cousins! You’ll see!”

As the sun begins to set, the kitchen fills with the exotic fragrance of Khan’s cooking and the sound of laughter and celebration as, little by little, Daniel is joined by Bengali men and women.

The men warm up to Daniel quickly as he offers them fresh bread and a few words of their mother tongue. They are bright-eyed and playful. It becomes apparent to Daniel that Khan is everyone’s best friend. They tell Daniel stories about him, stories that have been told over and over, like the stories of a folk hero. Khan is what the other Bengali men call chalu, which translates roughly in English to cool or clever.

The women gather in the living room. Many are dressed in colorful sari, which is a single cloth wrapped skillfully around what Daniel notices are the sensuous bodies of these Bengali women. They chatter continuously. One man, Tareq, suggests to Daniel that they are most likely talking about the men.

“They don’t like us to drink,“ he says while lifting his glass of whiskey sour in an impetuous toast to his wife as she looks on disapprovingly. “It’s same thing every time. We all like to come to Khan’s parties because he serve booze, and they always come along to keep an eye on us,” explains Tareq pointing to his own eye and then waving to the women, “See?”

As Tareq waves, the women pause to look at him and Daniel then resume their chattering even more vigorously than before. At that moment, Khan appears from the kitchen with a large serving platter full of fragrant rice and meat which he places on a buffet table, then with a another smaller platter full of a bright yellow, shredded fried potato, sort of a Bengali hash browns. Next he brings a salad of tomatoes, cilantro, and onions. Khan explains that the rice and meat dish is Mutton Biryani.

“Very popular. Every party must have Biryani. Mutton is the highest quality meat. So tender.”

And he is right. Daniel is ushered to the front of the line. When he tries to leave with only half a plate of food, Khan grabs his plate and fills it instructing, “Eat with hands.” As Daniel sits, the steam from the rice rises to his nostrils. His mouth begins to water. Khan is filling his glass again. Daniel doesn’t have a clue how many times he has done this, and he doesn’t care. He watches Tareq dig into his food with his fingers and shovel into his mouth. He watches as some of the men who sit at the table with him grab whole handfuls of rice, squeezing it, dropping back to the plate, picking it up again, eating it, hand covered in the juices and spices from the meat while others use only their fingers, skillfully gathering the rice up into a single piece and using their thumb to pop it from their upturned fingers into their mouths. To Daniel, there is something so natural and almost primitive about this. He tries it first with the rice. The flavor is clove, chili, cinnamon, ginger, onion, and what else he cannot judge. He tries the meat. It is dark like beef, but tenderer. It barely requires chewing at all. A steady heat begins to permeate his mouth and face. Delicious sweat begins to bead on his white-skinned forehead.

Tareq calls to Daniel across the table “Look! You look like a real Bengali. He’s eating with his hands. I have never in my life seen a white guy eat with his hands like that.”

With that Daniel responds with gusto as he licks his fingers, “Khub maja!”

The men roar with cheers and laughter, “Khub maja!” which means very tasty. Khan has been teaching Daniel Bengali phrases for years during their work together, and Daniel is finally getting an opportunity to use them.

“His Bangla is perfect!” one very dark-skinned man shouts. “What else do you know?”

As Daniel speaks the few remaining phrases that he knows, he begins to feel something. He feels a warmth deep in his gut that slowly rises up to his head which is pleasantly spinning from the wine. He looks into their laughing faces and no longer sees strangers. He thinks of his own brothers, Mike and Gabe, and how they used to laugh together like this.

Then the music starts. The first CD is filled with dark, brooding, plaintively and ornately sung melodies juxtaposed with quick rhythmic drumming. The baritone singer’s voice is hypnotic. The drum makes high, bright pattering sounds punctuated with deep dipping beats that start low and slide quickly up like the sound a dripping faucet would make if it were recorded and played back very slowly. The next CD sounds like a flashback to eighties hard rock with its heavy distortion electric guitar riffs and hard driving back beat. “Fireay dao, Fireay dao, amar prem tumi fireay dao,” returns over and over as the singer’s voice soars high, filled with anguish over his lost love.

The party goes late into the night. The women are huddled together in the living room, their conversation, to which Daniel is not privy, is endless and filled with rapidly spoken Bangla and giggling. The men sit around the kitchen table drinking and laughing. Their conversation flowing freely between Bangla and English as they tease each other mercilessly, laughing with total abandon. Daniel doesn’t care if he can understand the words or not, he is submerged in sweet, brotherly communion, stomach bursting with tender mutton and Bengali spice, his lips stained with the continuous flow of red wine.

As the party winds down and the guests begin to move toward the door, Tareq pulls Daniel aside, tipsy with whisky and beaming with friendship.

“Daniel,” he says as he leans in close and places each of his hands on Daniel’s broad, slender shoulders, looking Daniel right in the eyes “Now, we are cousins.” Then he opens his arms wide and says, nodding, “Come on,” inviting Daniel into an embrace. Daniel meets Tareq in a brotherly hug squeezing once, then squeezing a second time. On the second squeeze, however, Tareq steps away and raises his index finger in a gentle warning.

“No. Cousins hug once…like this.” He gives Daniel and quick, firm embrace with a pat on the back in the machismo style. “Never twice.”

“Ok. I see, “ replies Daniel, a little embarrassed, but appreciative nonetheless.

Daniel continues to shake hands and receive cousinly hugs giving Bengali farewells, “Dakha habay,” as they all walk out the front door where Daniel sees about twenty pairs of shoes neatly lined up on the front porch and Khan, who is chatting with one of the men and smoking a rare, late night cigarette.

When the porch is finally clear of shoes and people, Khan extinguishes his cigarette and puts his arm around Daniel. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

As they clean, they talk and laugh about the evening. Daniel wants Khan to remind him of the names of this person and that person. He feels the need to preserve this night in some way. Then his mind turns to his family and Dr. Collins’ assignment.

“Khan, when you’re with a woman,” he asks, “how do you know what to do?”

Khan laughs, furrowing his brow into a question, “What do you mean?”

“You know…like kissing and making love and all of that…romance…passion.”

Khan’s face reflects deep thought as he nods while hand-drying a wine glass. After he shelves the glass he says, “In Bangladesh we have a word. It called Tibro Onuvoti. It means…” he pauses, searching for the right English words, “ extreme feelings. Or…maybe like intense feelings.” He picks up another glass and starts drying it. “This not just for making love. It for life, “ he explains.

“When a man has tibro onuvoti for a woman, he don’t think about what he’s going to do. He just express his feelings. He express his passion. It like when you’re hungry, you know? You don’t have to think about, you just grab the food in your hands and shove it into your mouth. Do you see?”

And then, Daniel does see. Through the fog of his exhaustion and drunkenness, it shines like a beacon. YES! This is how they do it! This is how it all works! I’ve had it all wrong. He imagines all the intricacies of making love coming together in a fluid motion all fueled by feelings. He thinks of Ashley. His feelings for her come rushing in. He feels gratitude, sorrow, joy, and desire as he imagines holding her. Then he thinks of his children. My own two children. He pictures them in his arms. He feels it all, the guilt, the worry, the affection, the wanting to reach out, the wanting to shield them from the hardships of life, the affection, the love. And then he is overwhelmed. He can taste the salty, warm fluid gathering around his gums and welling up in his eyes.

Khan, keeping his attention on Daniel, pours a glass of water and hands it to him and says, “Listen, you gonna get through this, man. I never seen you so relaxed and smiling like you been tonight. You just letting it all go.” He makes a throwing gesture with both hands. “You’re lucky, Daniel. Lucky. You gotta wife like that at home? Man! Kids? You see, it all going to work out…if you just let yourself feel it.”

Daniel looks at his watch and sees that it’s too late to call Ashley or the kids. He realizes for the first time that he hasn’t spoken to his family for two days. Shit! he thinks, and his heart begins to ache.

The Reconciliation – Chapter 5: The Dream

Spend all your time waiting

For that second chance

For a break that would make it okay

There’s always one reason

To feel not good enough

And it’s hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction

Oh beautiful release

Memory seeps from my veins

Let me be empty

And weightless and maybe

I’ll find some peace tonight

[Chorus]

In the arms of an angel

Fly away from here

From this dark cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

You’re in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort there

So tired of the straight line

And everywhere you turn

There’s vultures and thieves at your back

And the storm keeps on twisting

You keep on building the lie

That you make up for all that you lack

It don’t make no difference

Escaping one last time

It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness oh

Wilson-Burns/Fly – 44 -

This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

[Chorus]

Sarah McLachlan – Angel

Daniel is relieved of his normal routine of lying awake in bed until one, two, three in the morning with his brain stuck on a half thought.  He is asleep within a minute of hitting the bed. He plunges deep into a restful sleep, beyond thoughts, beyond obsession, beyond compulsion, just beyond. The night passes dreamless, with one exception.

He is five-years-old. It’s a familiar scene. He is riding Uncle Ray’s tractor with his brother, Mike. It’s October and Ray is bringing in the soybeans. The tractor hits a pothole in the otherwise smooth field. He is thrown behind the left rear wheel. At the moment when the threshers should have mangled and sliced his small body he feels arms wrap around him. He is held tightly, surrounded by a warm, shimmering light. He can see nothing but the light, so bright that it should blind him, but it doesn’t. Instead, it fills him. He feels the light penetrate his skin and muscle and bone until every cell of his body is shimmering, vibrating, melting into the light. And then he feels a warm breath behind his left ear, someone or something is close, holding him so close that they are almost one body. Then he hears it. He hears the voice. That voice. It is both foreign and as familiar as his own voice. It’s not a man’s voice or women’s voice,  and yet it is like the voice of a mother or a father.

“Daniel,” it says, so close that it seems to be in his own head,

“Do not be afraid. I am with you.”

The next thing he feels is the spearmint gum in his mouth and Uncle Ray’s strong hands lifting him up in his arms his face wet with tears.

Daniel wakes up with the words on his lips. I am with you. He hasn’t thought about that day for years. Although he knows what happened, he’s never been able to come to terms with it as an adult. He prefers to think of it as a dream rather than reality. The light of morning begins to infiltrate his sleep and the dream begins fade.

Daniel spends a few minutes turning it over in his head. What really happened? How did I survive? The uestion he never thinks to ask, though, is why. After a minute of looking around the unfamiliar room, Daniel remembers where he is. There are no clocks in the room and Daniel is concerned by the amount of daylight coming in through the French doors that lead to the balcony, concerned that he is late for work. Work. It’s not like I’m actually doing anything, just sitting around waiting for some jerkoff project manager to come by and…jerkoff.

Jerkoff. Hmmm…

Daniel has not jerked off since his first year of marriage to Ashley. As a teen, his practice of masturbation was only barely exceeded in time and energy by his practice of singing. If masturbation could be considered an art, Daniel would have been considered a master. He was an expert in lubrication, steeped in the art of self-seduction, nearly virtuosic in his ability to create fantasy, and skilled in the construction of female genitalia substitutes. His greatest skill, though, was his ability to achieve orgasm with no hands, an ability that he discovered in the middle of a college poli-sci lecture.

The class was led by a very attractive grad student. She was blond, full-breasted, and always wore nappropriately tight jeans. For a morning class, it was very well attended. Daniel, who was also wearing fairly tight jeans, was experiencing an unusually firm morning erection. As he was crossing his legs he discovered an exquisite pleasure in the tightening of his jeans over his throbbing cock. Wow! This could really happen he thought right here in the middle of my 9:00. Dare I? Daniel concluded that it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. With a few seating adjustments and a quick fantasy about getting some help from the teacher after class, Daniel managed to fill his shorts, unnoticed, with hot, liquid joy. It would be his crowning achievement in self-stimulation and one of his only achievements in freshman political science. He passed with a C-.

And now he finds himself reconsidering this activity that he hasconsidered taboo for nearly a decade. Before he has a chance to think much about it, he is applying hand lotion and lying back in the bed.  The same lotion that he has been using to repair his chapped hands is proving to be useful in a new way. His experienced hand knows just what to do as he rapidly approaches climax, the first climax in two years. Somehow he is able to overcome his fear. Somehow his hands, rather than feeling filthy, become a source of pleasure. He cries out in pleasure as his desire is released and an overwhelming feeling of euphoria descends over his body. I refuse to feel guilty over this. Daniel feels a voice rising up in him. I am a GOD DAMN ratfucker and I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. “I will jerk off as many fucking times as I want!” shouts Daniel to the empty house. And he does.

Rather than go in to work, Daniel spends most of the Friday exploring the house, drinking the rest of the opened bottle of wine, eating from the amazing selection of food, and masturbating. For the first time in many years, he begins to feel lucky.

Daniel “Lucky” Roberts.