I closeted myself in the room for the remainder of the day while Alex tried to find comfort in the closet-spaced wine cellar.
We agreed that if someone came sniffing around the door, she’d bolt into the room, regardless of what I was doing. But I needed to concentrate to learn the tasks, and I needed to do it alone.
After the first uncomfortable day, Dan brought sleeping bags and delivered good news. The house would be released to us in two days.
It seemed likely that the charges involving the Rowans would be dropped, because the material witnesses could not be found.
The cops had found the medical supplies that Beth had used along with the syringe, and the law firm had produced documents showing that the money was ours. Since the major felonies were dismissed, bail was a moot item.
Alex was currently on the hook for the traffic violations. It seemed the law firm of Brawley and Higgins had been busy. I still resolved to fire them.
Dan brought take-out food. I gobbled down some hamburgers and after Dan left, resumed my work in the room.
I examined the journals from a new perspective. I needed to move beyond pattern identification, and try to understand how the mental processes worked.
Again, I marveled at the genius of my father. He’d reasoned that the communications link was prevalent in all humans and that it was the Shadow's ability to project patterns through the link that allowed them to accomplish their magic.
He’d also thought that the runes and symbols used by the ancients somehow disrupted the link, rendering them helpless in influencing others. This was the theory behind the shield surrounding the house and the medallion hanging from my neck.
He’d had an advantage that no other researcher possessed. He’d had my mother to experiment with. The thought caused a moment of anger, but then I realized that if Mom had not supported him, she wouldn’t have agreed to it. Let it go, I thought.
The results of the PET scan convinced him that magnetic fields could enhance the effect, so Dad had connected the shield to the power in the house. His empirical research seemed to work.
Next, the journals touched upon the experience of finally connecting through the communication link. He’d described the end result as a 'mind glow'. It wasn't something seen as much as experienced. It involved all of the senses, but wasn’t physical, experienced only in the mind.
I didn’t have a clue as to what it might be, so I filed it away for future thought.
I worked through the earlier exercises, hoping to strengthen my ability to separate illusion from reality.
Convinced it offered the key in attempting the hard tasks, every time I came near to the end; fear of the dangerous effects stopped me. My confidence, shattered by my near-death crisis, could not generate the effort the journals required.
I joined Alex in the wine closet, discouraged. By now, we were both thoroughly depressed.
“I need to get out of here,” Alex said.
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door.
“Did you hear me, Paris? I need to get out of here.”
“Another day, Alex.”
“I'm so angry and depressed I want to kill something,” she said.
“You'll get your chance if I have the guts to do want I need to do.”
“It's funny. I always thought you were the bravest person I ever knew.”
I thought about it. I'd faced many life or death situations; so why be afraid of this?
What people called courage was really a conscious effort to control your fear and act for the safety of your family or friends. Anything else spelled foolish bravado.
Most of the time in Iraq, I hadn’t been thinking of my safety, at least my bodily safety. I’d been thinking of what would happen to others if I let my fears stop me short of my objective.
So, what was different? What paralyzed me?
Then it hit me. I wasn't worried about my body; I was in terror of losing my mind.
I rose from the floor. “I've got to go back in there. But before I do, I have to tell you what I plan and what you need to do if it doesn't work. I won't be coming out of that room if I don't succeed.”