Warlock, page 6
“Diary entry #8.
It was a huge day! I had met my first friend. Well, maybe not a real one, but it was a first real talk with a real person. He is a hobo. It’s just nice and all in my style.
I met him near the mall, where I was walking around trying to create inner map and convince myself that this is my life for a long term, and I need to get used to.
I bought a cola in a shop, other than that time when I met a nice girl and went out. I sat outside on a bench and tapped three times at the top of a can. And just after it, I heard his voice near me.
“What’s that for?”
I looked around and saw a hobo. Despite that fact that in our country they are much more dirty and unpleasant, I knew that he’s homeless. But, hey, that’s how I felt that minute. Maybe, that was a cause of my relaxed answer:
“Just… Just a habit. It was a joke about it.”
Man said:
“Tell me.”
I am looked at him once again, and saw nothing special. Brown coat, sweater, glows with holes and without two random fingers, jeans and old sneakers. He wasn’t aggressive or drunk or stoned. Just homeless person. I’m shrugged:
“Little boy come to the policeman with a can of coke and said, Mr. Policemen, please, help me to open it. Policemen took can in his hand, tap to it, and said “Police! Open up!””
He smiled:
“Nice one,” he said. “Say, you’re not local, huh?”
I shrugged once again:
“Hard to say. We moved here a couple of weeks ago. But for this day I felt like homeless… No offence”
Man lifted his hands:
“All right. Where are you from? Your pronunciation… something Slavic?”
I nodded and named country of former USSR. He whistled:
“Far away. And how’s US to you?”
I grimaced a little:
“Pretty good. There are plusses and minuses in all places I think. But now all this to me is… Artificial… Plastic, you know? It seems like I’m watching a curtain and see some generic picture. And something is behind this curtain, and I don’t know – good or bad… Messy, huh?”
He looked at me:
“Not too much… As about curtain – look at this like on the theatre stage – maybe when curtain fall – you’ll see something interesting?”
I thought about this:
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. But I like theory that tells that when you doesn’t see something it can be anything. You know, as about a table that can be at far end of the galaxy, when you come out of the room.”
He looked at me carefully:
“Know that theory,” he said. “But it said also that viewer – is a main person. A lot of things depends on what you see.”
I thought a little, and smiled bitterly:
“And too often people see only what they want”
“Exactly”
I stand up from a bench, and just now, I see that I don’t make even a sip from a can. I offered it to man:
“Do you want?”
He waved with his head:
“Thanks, buddy, I’m already have problems with teeth.”
I smiled, and turn to go away, and then returned to this guy:
“I’m Antony,” I said. “What is your name?”
“Bob,” he answered. “Some kids call me Hob-Bob. You can use it – it’s not offensive.”
I had nodded once again:
“Just Bob for me. Thank you for the conversation,” I said. “Have a nice day,”
I smiled at him.
He waved with his hand:
“Remember about viewer role!”
So it was it. This simple talk with simple man gave me a feeling that everything may be good. Anything needs time, and some things – a lot of it. But, hey, my generation love computer games, where you begin with a character of first levels without any skills. And kids all over the world spend a lot of hours to improve these characters – it may be work for us, people instead of characters too.
Hope so.”
“Diary entry #9.
So, my dirty diary, I thought about one more attempt to look for answers about my voice problem. No, not a problem – it’s issue for this moment. You know that joke: “The doctor asks – say, when do you begun to suffer from voyeurism? And a guy said – doc, I’m not suffering – I got a great pleasure!” Therefore, I think that if it did not bother me – it is not a problem.
I had decided to return to the web, but look in other direction. I read about dreams – maybe this isn’t a coincidence that I hear her in almost sleeping states.
Moreover, you know my dirty diary – there was something interesting. At least I think so.
I found that some religions (shamans mostly) thought about sleeping as about time when soul traveling around a world. Some of them thought that souls can fly to other worlds, and our dreams – is only thinks that they see flying around. That they are true. Here most of the things tied with energy of the souls. If you practice, if you living by rules – your soul is more powerful, and can remember and learn something. Some people said that they even chose directions and have their places where they visit frequently. But I’m of that kind of persons that need more proofs then interesting stories in the browser.
Although I think that seed of truth is there. Look at it from this point of view. Our brain is a mechanism. Without levers and wires, but it took electric charges, and with their help it changes chemical structure, and creates shapes and images of our feelings. It’s freaks me out sometimes – a couple of drops of some medicals onto your brain can turn your reality into the horror. Drops! Thanks to God that that medicals is called drugs and they are outlaw and expensive, otherwise Aldous maybe even can’t recognize this brave new world. Or much simpler example – color (let’s take red one) – you see it, I see it, but fuck, how do you know that we see it the same one? That we are understand it in the same way?
I heard in one of the medical shows about one guy. He got a head trauma – car crash, falling or something. And after it, he can’t recognize letters. He watched a book like I watch wedge writing in museums – very interesting, but its information, for me, is a zero. So he was for that moment when he took a pencil and outlined letter. He can read it, by writing! He looks at them and sees nonsense, but when he writes them – he can read them. Other guy can’t recognize faces, and even that ones that on the playing cards. On the place where is king’s face – is colorful blurring. Nice, but scary. At least for me.
So, returning to the voices issue – we talk about state when my brain… Hm. Not in its full power. Or, as some doctors think – vice versa – when people asleep, brain works in other state that does not mean lesser power.
Anyway, I look at this problem from two points of view. First – brain as a receiver. It works with electro magnetics, so it could feel some influence. Second – brain as a transmitter – each piece of metal cord could receive part of an outer field. But there is one feature – there is one viewer of all transmitting effects – owner of the brain. No one else can see insects all over the ill person body, except of him.
And now I stand in front of choice – to decide what’s going on with me – I hear something from out there, or it’s all inside me?
You know the funniest part of this question – I do not know what answer would be more scary…”
Chapter 5
Sleep did bring him relief to Alex. He dropped to his bed like a dead man, and fall into the dream. He saw himself in a space, around was millions of stars as bright as they were on night sky. He looked around and see nothing, even his own hands were absent. He looked down and sees a planet with a gray, green surface. He rushed down.
A half minute later, he landed to the grey land, like on the Moon, and saw that surface was full of figures. They were transparent, and they have no faces. There were billions of them, and Alex cannot see even a square meter of free space. Figures can’t stay aside of each other, periodically they touched each other. That second they took on faces. Just for a moment, they turned to the figure with whom they connected and show their faces to each other. A green light, just a spot, like a micro star emerged in their chests, and connected with a thin green line.
It seems like figures do not like to be connected for a long time, and after a few seconds, they disconnected and begin to loose theirs outlines. Few seconds later – Another link originates. Therefore, - all the time. Billions of links in one moment. Alex thought that green color of the planet – it was grass, but now he saw that it was due to endless links. He hears a low murmur every time when link was emerged, like in a library, and it always drop down when green light disappears.
Alex looked into the faces of figures, and saw one interesting thing – figures don’t show one face to each of his “interlocutors.” Every time it is another one, as like as murmur. It was minor changes, but they were there.
Alex stepped backward, and had flashed by green light, covered with a murmur, and saw figures transparent face, and understanding filled his consciousness.
“Ghosts,” Alex do not know he thought or says. However, it does not matter that one second. “They are all ghosts.” He feels like he understands something important, something crucial. He tried to hold this thought, this thin (green) line. His conclusions begin to blur, like a face in front of him. “They are all ghosts.” His mind becomes heavier, and he put all his strength to hold one final thought “We are all ghosts!”
Thinking about it, Alex dropped to the bottom of his dream, where there is no place for thoughts and consciousness. Where time stands still for human mind and an attraction to many large that no spark of thought cannot fly out.
---
When Alex gets up, his night thoughts and dreams faded away, as it has always happened with such dark substances in a morning light. He looks around and saw his friend sitting with the laptop on the armchair. Being under the impression of the dream atmosphere him even though is it, not the replay of the yesterday.
“Hi there!” Said Jim.
“Uh-huh,” murmured Alex. «What time is it now?”
A cameraman looked into the corner of his monitor and said, “Oh, it’s time to work.”
Alex grimaced with smile and goes to the bathroom. He takes a shower and begins to brush his teeth:
“Some plans? Or yesterday tails?”
Jim wagged with his head, saying “Sort of. We have an address of our guy’s parents, and Janine finds something interesting”
“Wa- eh- ?” asked Alex with the toothbrush in his mouth.
Jim looked at him. “No,” he said. “I know this. If I’ll tell you something before coffee, I will must to repeat it later after once more. Clean up yourself and go to Nancy’s”
Half an hour later, they were finishing breakfast.
Alex sipped coffee and said, “Ok, what do you have?”
His friend attentively looked in his eyes, “Yes,” Jim said. “I see some intellect there.”
“Ha-ha,” Alex answered. “What do we have for today?”
Jim nodded and turned on his smartphone. “We have,” he said. “Contacts in social for couple of his friends. One in the former country, and two here. It’s a little bit lately for onetime and too early for local, so, I think that we’ll start from parents”
Alex looked to his smartphone, and frowned, “Early? It’s ten o’clock.”
“Say owl,” smiled Jim. «Recall for your own teenage schedule, when do you gets up on the holidays?”
Alex silently nodded. He finished his cup of coffee and looked to the scene behind the dinner windows. Sun shorts the shadows and predict a good day for all undertakings. In such moments Alex totally understands believing of ancients, who thinks that sun dies every night, and resurrect itself every morning. Resurrection for everything, not just our yellow dwarf, but the sun even for today is a perfect symbol.
“Something else?”
Jim nodded uncertainly, “I don’t know is it interesting idea, or not… But I thought that we may ask prof about hexagons.”
Prof was their good friend from the first series of their “ABnormal”. His full name was Professor Bruce Williams. He was a teacher on the parallel to their journalistic faculty. They began asking him questions in the latest years of their education. In addition, as prof was a weirdo himself, he liked their issues. He was very helpful, commenting signs and psychological aspects of the heroes of their series.
“That’s good idea my friend,” said Alex paying for the breakfast. “But I think to set aside this conversation a little bit later on. I don’t want to bother Prof just about figure.”
They opened the door and went outside to the warm hug of the beginning day.
Jim frowned:
“Why? He might give us a lecture about…”
Alex interrupted:
“That's it,” he said. “You know Prof as good as me. He’ll cling in this figure, and will talk for hours about number of six.” Alex strokes his beard squinted and said in a low voice “Boys! Boys! Hexagon is a very important! His history begins with the Sumerian culture where he plays role of the first screwdriver – symbol of the universe axis.”
Guys laughed at this parody of their friend, and sat to their van, and then Alex’s smartphone begin to ring.
Still smiling, Alex push button and said: “Hello”
“Alex?” asked woman’s voice. “Alex Barns?”
He rose his hand and stopped his friend: “Yes, that’s me.”
“It’s Alice Prey,” said voice in a phone. “I found your note.”
Alex needs a second to remember that last name, but when he understood, who it was, his face became serious in a second. “Oh! Thanks for your call!” He covered a microphone with a hand and told to Jim, who sat and looked bewildered. “A teacher,” whispered Alex, and put his hand aside, “So, can we talk?”
“Yes,” she answered after a small pause. “I’ll be free after noon.”
“Perfect,” gladly said Alex. “At Nancy’s?”
“No.” said woman too fast. Or too harsh? “No. There is a dinner downtown, called “Crossroad”, I’ll be there at… At seven p.m.”
“I’ll be there,” said Alex, but teacher disconnected without the good-bye words.
Alex put his phone in a pocket, and stare to the windshield. He thought that he could recognize mood and way of thoughts of the people, with whom he talks, but this woman confused him. He does not understand if she afraid of something or just hurry somewhere, or… On the other hand, he just used to talk with unstable people and can’t read casual people with casual problems and emotions.
“So?” interrupted in his mind flow Jim.
“Sorry, dude,” came to his senses Alex. “Nineteen hundred at some place called “Crossroad.” You’ll find this place?”
“Searching,” Jim says.
“She told its downtown.”
“Almost out of town,” clarified Jim. “We must establish an hour for the road”
Alex nodded, still thinking about woman’s voice. After a couple of seconds, he said, “Ok, we have a job for now. Let’s go to the parents.”
---
“Diary entry #10.
Today my father told me that he hired a local teacher to help me with preparation to school. Lazy days ended my shitty diary. But we knew that this day would come, didn’t we?
Today she’ll come to us to introduce to me, and to tell me about work that we’ll do. Hope that we’ll find understanding. Except of that my days becomes a little bit routine – little features that aren’t the same, but in general – today is a copy of yesterday. I can live with that. Local internet is a little bit slower that I had in my previous life, but as I said – I can live with that too.
But there is one problem occurred – time difference with my friends in a former country – it’s difficult to talk with them. Sometimes I can catch someone in video messengers, but it’s too rarely and their either sleepy or busy. Therefore, here is time-space curving to me without velocities of the light speed, suck it Einstein!
Well, today is the last of total lazy days that I can spend with voice issues – in evening, I’ll meet my teacher and then – new life, full of… Full of something new, I guess. And I hope.
…
Fuck! That was… Oh. In order – she’s hot! I mean, my new teacher. Her name is Alice Prey, and I should call her Ms. Prey. And she is pretty! I can’t remember even half of things that she told me. She’s not a supermodel or have huge tits, and you know – nothing like that. But she has some… nature beauty, something that doesn’t depend on cosmetics and time of a day – I believe that she’s nice right after a sleep as she was today. It would be hard (in every sense of this word) to work with her. You can place a bet on that fact that I’ll would imagine her legs during my evening playtime. What? Everyone masturbates, and today I realized that last time was long ago. With all that moving to US and stress, I can’t even imagine something connected with sex. Thank you, Ms. Prey, you already helped me a lot.
At last, this is my filthy diary, isn’t it?”
“Diary entry #11.
Today I hear voices again. With a great state of probability, it’s only my imagination, but it seems that I hear Ms. Prey’s voice. Damn, if that myth about blindness occurred to be truth – I would be like a bat soon.
Anyway, I want to tell you something entirely different.
Here’s one theory that perfectly suits to my ghostly voice investigation. It’s a result of my yesterday web serf, but I needed to put everything on its places in my head.
So. Some of the scientists and shrinks thought that that grey liquid thing in our heads that someone call brain serves to two purposes at the same time – receiver and transmitter. It receives information from all sensors of our body, analyze them, and constructing some picture of our world. This picture is projecting on inner big white wall in our heads.
And here’s magic begins. As our brain is interpreter – it can make fail picture of things outside of it. For example – you walk on the street in the night, and it’s calm and chilly, you turn your head to the left, and you see a ghost! White figure in someone’s yard! It’s swaying, and its hands stretching to you. And if you’ll panic, later you can tell your friends a creepy story about grimaces on the transparent face.
