*****
I took a deep breath before beginning, “Father, the last time I came here, I told you of my discovery at the age of eleven. The discovery that my subconscious thoughts, or more specifically my dreams could become reality and affect others in catastrophic ways. I also learned that I could read people's souls if they touched me and I could see a person's past if I touched them. One touch from a person and I would know what kind of person they truly were inside. When I touched someone I would download every event in their life like a computer. Well, the next two years of my life were uneventful. Over the course of those two years many questions arose in my mind but never seemed to be answered.
My parents were training me to control my reactions to people’s touch and to block out the images that flowed through my mind when I touched someone. I had also learned of their talents which weren't dangerous like mine. They hadn't told me how I came to have these “talents”, I would later learn it was an intentional omission on their part. They just said I was born with them but I knew they weren't born with theirs.
Although my parents had trained me well, they couldn't account for my overwhelming sense of right and wrong, nor my protective instincts. Both would flare and rise to a boiling point when I was thirteen years old.
Over the course of my two years of training the summers’ were short and fun living on a farm but the winters’ were long and trying. During the summer, I liked being outside and exploring our land. I didn’t have any friends and I would travel the scope of our land with my imaginary friend Terrie. Being an only child can be a lonely life when you're young. My parents couldn't spend every waking minute with me so I created Terrie when I was six years old.
I developed an image of Terrie in my mind. As I got older so did Terrie. She was quiet like me and she observed the world like I often did. Unlike me, she was a brunette with a slender build that was on the brink of starvation. She had big blue eyes that enveloped her face and a waif like build. She had this essence of fragility that made you want to protect her at all cost.
Terrie and I would spend our days walking down to the pond, talking about what we’d like to become when we grew up. The summer was the best time of year for me. I hated to see it end. Terrie refused to enter our house no matter what I said to try to persuade her, so once the weather turned cold, I was alone once again.
I would spend my winters reading and watching TV if I wasn’t training with my parents. The winters were more stringent because my parents had a prescribed set of channels and shows that I was allowed to watch on TV. It might seem extreme to others, but everything my parents did was for my benefit and protection. The last thing they wanted me to do was to dream of Michael Myers chopping all of us to bits. So scary movies were banned and certain tv shows were placed on the safe to watch list.
By the time I turned thirteen my parents were ready to allow me to attend school. But before I could attend, I had to go through a series of test to ensure that I could control myself and my talents. My parents began taking me to the small city near our farm. I began grocery shopping with my mother and going to the bank with my father. I was instructed to observe people and how they behaved toward one another and how they presented themselves. I was not allowed to touch anyone just yet.
I was always excited to be able to go into the city with one of my parents. The city was filled with more sights and sounds that I got to explore, unlike a farm that was always quiet. I dutifully followed their instructions for fear of being regulated back to the farm once again.
My first real test came when we went to the movies to see “Cars.” By this point, I was no longer regulated to wearing gloves year round when I went out in public. My mother believed it would be difficult for me to wear gloves every day without someone constantly questioning my choice of fashion. After my training I graduated to spray on latex gloves. My father had several cans that he gave to me. I wondered where he got them from because I didn't remember shopping at any store that might carry spray on latex.
My first time wearing them provided me with a new experience. The scientist in me wanted to investigate the difference between touching a person with my exposed skin and touching someone with the latex gloves on my hands. By the end of summer I found that the plastic barrier dulled the feelings that emanated from people when I touched them. I could still see their life story, the pain, worry, sorrow and happiness they felt but it was dulled by the latex barrier. My parents said that one day, I would be able to control my senses enough that I could allow the happiness to shine through and block the pain. I couldn't wait for that day to come because sometimes the sadness and pain could be overwhelming.
On a warm summer night, we drove into town one evening to catch the seven o’clock showing of “Cars.” The movie had been out for two weeks prior to our outing, so the crowd had thinned out by this time. My dad gave me the money to purchase our tickets. They had given me instructions on what they wanted me to do on the way to the movie theater. I was told to touch the attendant’s hand when she handed me the change due from the purchase of our tickets. I had gotten so used to avoiding people's touch that we all wondered if I'd be able to do it.
I slowly walked up to the attendant and requested three tickets for the seven o’clock showing of “Cars.” The attendant looked at me with deep set brown eyes. She had chocolate brown skin and dimples that became even more pronounced when she smiled back at me. Her hair was set in a ponytail that hung loosely down her back. She thanked me for my purchase and handed me our tickets along with the change. I tentatively reached inside the hole to accept our tickets and barely grazed her index finger. I was extremely nervous about what I might see when I touched her. After all my first experience with touching someone hadn’t gone over so well.
The sensations that I felt were two-fold. I felt a slight shock, which was a lot less pronounced than the shock I felt when I had touched Jason. I also felt a warm, welcoming, sensation emanating from the attendant. The warm sensation emanating from her told me she was a kind person with a giving soul. Her life flashed before my eyes. I could see that she was the oldest of three sisters, her two younger sisters were twins. Her father died when she was a senior in high school and she was working at the movie theater while attending junior college.
She had plans of attending the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana until her father’s untimely death. She realized that her mother couldn’t afford to send her to school and keep a roof over their heads, so she decided to attend junior college and work to assist her mom with the raising of her two younger sisters. They were juniors in high school and very good students. She liked this job because it was stress free, but her boss was a sexist pig. She had learned to ignore his advances and remarks. He no longer bothered her as he once did.
The connection to the attendant was broken just as easily as it was made when I pulled my hand back with the change in it. I turned towards my parents and we began to walk into the theater. I took one look back at the attendant in the booth and I realized she would do well in her future life. I didn’t know how I knew this, but I could see great things were in store for her. It was like a beautiful warm blue light surrounded her future and I knew it would be good.
I had passed my first test in the eyes of my parents. But they still weren’t completely convinced of my ability to control my talents. They told me they had specifically picked the attendant because they knew her character so they knew what my response to her would be. They weren't in fear of her safety. They wanted to start me off slowly to see my physical reaction. It wouldn't be a good thing for me to shake, quiver, or pass out every time I came into contact with someone new.
My next test wouldn't be so easy. They needed to see how I would react to an individual with a less than squeaky past and personality.
We began this second phase of testing at the grocery store. My parents instructed me to touch certain individuals
as we walked the aisles of the grocery store in order to gage my reaction to them.
It was the opposite of shock aversion therapy for me. I still received a shock when I touched people but without the pain, it became a cooling sensation after awhile. The more I touched people the less of a reaction I had to touching the next person.
While we grocery shopped, I continued to touch the individuals my parents instructed me to touch. I felt that I was invading their privacy in a sense, but I couldn’t help but do it anyway. I was out among people and learning about them, even if they wouldn’t have approved of the way that I learned their nature. We did this for several weeks before my family told me of the final big test they had for me.
My final test would be held at the grocery store. I had gotten so used to covertly touching people while shopping, I thought I had touched everyone. But there was one individual that I had never come into contact with while in the store.
There was a middle aged bagger, who seemed to be old beyond his years. I had seen him on several occasions when we went grocery shopping. We never used the line where he was bagging, so I had never gotten close to him. My parents had never instructed me to touch him either. They had always gone out of their way to insure that we had no contact.
This was the day that I would have my first contact with someone with a less than squeaky clean past. Everyone else I had come into contact with had lived pretty normal lives and were basically good people. We got into the line where the old bagger was bagging groceries. He was bagging our groceries when my father told me to get the groceries from him. I touched his hand as he handed me a grocery bag and the bag slipped from my hand. He caught it in time and handed it back to me with a little pat on my hand.
“Sorry about that young lady. Do you have it know?” he asked in a kindly old voice.
“Yes, sir. I have it now. Thank you,” I replied somewhat shakily as my parents gathered up the rest of the bags and placed them in the cart. We walked out of the grocery store together. There was a slight chill that cursed down my spine. My legs were unsteady beneath me. My mind was in turmoil at what I had seen and felt coming from the old bagger. When we were settled in the car my parents turned and looked at me.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” asked my father.
“I think I am,” I replied a little shakily.
“You saw the bagger’s life in all its’ cruelty and suffering yet you were able to maintain a façade of normality after you touched him and then he in turn touched you. I can see the turmoil within you, can you voice your concerns?” asked my father.
I began to explain what I had seen to my mother. My father had already glimpsed it when I touched the bagger so he knew my feelings toward the situation. I hadn't realized it until that point, my father had been reading people's minds before I ever touched them. He had been reading my mind to gage my reaction to those I had touched as well. My voice was unsteady at first but it soon gained strength as I told the tale.
“He did so many despicable things in his youth, one of those things eventually caused the death of a young lady he once loved." I took a deep breath before I began the sad history of the bagger.
"It first began when he robbed a liquor store and nearly beat the owner to death. He was leaving the scene of the robbery when he was in a car accident that killed the only girl he had ever loved. He was trying to get away from the police and ran a red light. His getaway car plowed into the car she was driving and she died instantly upon impact.
From that point on he was in a downward spiral of death and destruction. He went to jail for his crimes. But while he was in jail, drugs and alcohol became his constant companions. He was still trying to dull the pain of her loss. Once he was released from jail he sought stronger drugs to help him forget.
One night while he was tripping on LSD the hallucinations got so strong that he thought his parents were aliens attacking him. He killed his mother and father that night. The neighbors heard his screams of panic and rage and tried to save them, but they weren't able to.
He was caught and convicted of the double murder. He served fifteen years for the double murder but was later released due to a combination of things that happened during his trial. From that point on he has lived a life of repentance. He works at the grocery store and counsels alcoholics and drug addicts at the church. But he suffers each and every day he is on this earth.
He has been living with the knowledge that he caused the death of someone he loved and took the life of others that he loved. He doesn’t want to be on this earth but he knows that if he takes his own life, he will be condemned to hell.”
“You sensed something else with him,” said my father after I had stopped speaking.
“When he touched me, I could see that he wasn’t the person that he was in his youth, that man is gone forever. He is making amends for his wrongs and he has become a better person for it. I got the sense that he will eventually find peace and redemption through an act of kindness,” I said evenly. ”
“How do you know this?” asked my mother.
“I don’t know,” I said hunching my shoulders. “I got the same sense from the girl at the movie theater. She will be successful because of the sacrifices she has made for others, but I don’t know how I know this. There was just this blue glow of peace and joy surrounding them.”
“Have you felt this with any of the other people you’ve touched?” asked my father.
“No, only the bagger and the attendant at the movie theater,” I replied while watching my parents closely. They seemed to be communicating without actually speaking. I had noticed that they have been doing this a lot lately. After several seconds of silence my father put the car into gear and drove us home.
Chapter 2