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A Brief Moment in TIme Page 5
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The men were beginning to file out of the dining hall, and Stubby stood up to leave. Gavin followed numbly. What he was hearing made no sense; he was more confused than ever.
“You got that weird virus,” Stubby explained. “They didn’t tell you anything?”
Gavin shook his head.
“About half a dozen others did, too. They quarantined the whole place. Yesterday was the first day we could have visitors. Word is several people in the city died from it—mostly old people, though.”
“I had a virus?”
“They’re calling it some fancy name, but it’s a virus, and apparently it spreads as easy as the common cold. Had the whole city in a panic for a while.”
“And we don’t already have a rehab program?”
Stubby frowned at him again, and Gavin started to think he’d better keep his inquiries to himself. There was just one more thing he needed to know. “The new kid…Ryan. Did he really do himself in?”
“Who?” Stubby shook his head. “I think you need to recuperate a few more days, buddy. We don’t want rumors spreading. Keep this up,” he laughed, “and the only day pass you’ll be eligible for is to the psych ward at Dellberg.”
While Kathryn and her associates waited in the wings, she listened to the men assemble. Talking and laughter filled the auditorium, chairs were being moved, and guards barked out commands. Once the men settled down, the warden nodded for her to begin. They had decided to forgo an introduction; she simply walked to the center of the platform where a small podium stood.
She’d been warned about the response she was likely to receive but was still surprised when the men responded with cheers, whistles, and even catcalls. It took a few moments before the guards got them settled down. As she waited for silence, Kathryn looked over the group in front of her. The men differed in age, size, race, and most undoubtedly, belief systems. The one common denominator was that they were all serving time for committing a very serious crime, and that time was nearing an end.
One man in particular caught her attention. He was a large man, well built and handsome. The look he gave her was unmistakably different from ones the other men were directing at her. His expression was one of surprise and confusion, as if he knew her. As their eyes met and held for a moment, she wondered what his story was.
She anticipated learning about the men before meeting with them in the group and individual sessions. The warden had a package made up, a profile on each of the men for her and her associates to look over and keep in their files. It would assist greatly in tailoring the program to the individual needs of the men they would soon be working with.
Kathryn began by introducing herself and describing the program in general terms. The men were not taking her seriously, so she decided to get to the heart of her message, which was the essence of the teaching and what it would do for them. Having gained the men’s attention, she made the most of it. She gave them a glimpse of the potentially life-changing program, and the processes and tools they could use to make their transition back into society. She assured them that the valuable teaching would help them in every area of their lives, both now and in the future.
As she spoke, she occasionally glanced at the man who had been and was still looking at her oddly. At one point, she saw him shake his head in what she could only describe as dismay. It was subtle; the others around him probably wouldn’t notice. But her training caused her to pick up on behavior that was out of the ordinary, and his definitely stood out to her.
Kathryn ended her speech by describing how the program would be set up. She then introduced her colleagues. With that, she thanked the men for their willing participation and left them with the promise that they would not regret it.
The warden stepped forward to dismiss the men, and Kathryn watched as they filed out of the room. The man that had intrigued her was the last to get up from his chair, and as he left the room he turned to look directly at her. His face was clearly imprinted in her mind, and she was eager to go back to her hotel room and look through his profile.
In the meantime, she was elated to have made her presentation and to have seen the men and the facility first hand. It was all beginning to sink in. Her program, which for so long had been just an idea, a theory, was now unfolding into an undeniable reality. Kathryn couldn’t have been more excited.
Chapter 7
GAVIN WONDERED if he wasn’t still in some sort of delusional state. The events of the past few weeks were unclear. He honestly couldn’t remember what was real and what he had dreamed. He seriously considered reporting back to the infirmary to let them know he was hallucinating.
The most bizarre thing was that he had now sat through Kate’s presentation—the same identical speech—twice. In fact, as he looked back on the first time he’d heard it, he realized that everything about that day mirrored the current one. She and her associates were wearing the same clothes, the men around him had uttered the same rude comments, and the guards had responded in the same way. Now, as they walked to the industry area, he heard Stubby make the same comment about rehabilitation that he’d made weeks earlier.
Gavin kept his thoughts to himself. He had a lot to sort out—if that were even a possibility. He had to try to make sense of it somehow. He knew he wasn’t crazy. Unfortunately, he knew that no one else would see it that way.
KATHRYN AND HER TEAM had plenty to do in the days following her initial presentation. They were staying in a hotel but needed to find more permanent accommodation. If all went well, they would be located there for the full three years.
They also needed to go over the files and get familiar with the men that were to be part of the program. They would be dividing the men into four groups of nine or ten. She and her team members would remain with their respective groups for the duration of the program. Kathryn, being the project coordinator, would make the final decisions about placement of the men in each group, but she valued her associates input. They each had different strengths and abilities, and some of the men would be more suited to one than the other.
The profiles the warden had given them were detailed. Each included a picture, background information, details of the crime committed, and pertinent information about their stay in Swenton.
Adele walked into the room just as she finished reading Gavin McDermott’s file. “This one interests me,” Kathryn commented, glancing at her friend. “I was watching him while I made the presentation; he exhibited some odd behavior.”
“What do you mean by odd?”
“His reaction was not in keeping with the response of the group as a whole,” Kathryn explained. “At first he looked at me as if he knew me, as if he was surprised to see me or something. Then as the talk progressed he seemed distressed. I’d hoped to find something in his file that would explain it, but I’m baffled,” she admitted.
“Yes,” Adele replied. “I’ve looked at his file. He appears to be an exemplary prisoner, highly regarded by the other men and the prison staff. He’s tried to better himself with education and training. There’s no mention of unusual behavior.”
“I’m going to put him in my group,” Kathryn said decisively. “I’m curious. There’s more to him than meets the eye. I’d like to find out what it is.”
“I looked over the profiles and came up with a list of men I felt I’d be most suited to work with,” Adele said, handing Kathryn a list.
“Great, thanks,” Kathryn responded absently, still perusing the file that lay open in front of her. “He was in the infirmary recently,” she remarked, turning over one of the pages. “It says here he and five other prisoners contracted the Srela virus. They quarantined the whole prison because of it. He must have been really sick; he was in the infirmary for three weeks. In fact, he was released the day we were there. That might explain some of what I observed.”
“Possibly,” Adele replied as she walked out.
Kathryn was so absorbed she didn’t notice that Adele had gone back to her room. She continued
reading the file and making notes, summing up what she’d learned about Gavin McDermott. He had been in Swenton for seventeen years, four months, and six days. He was eligible for parole within the year. He’d studied to get his high-school diploma and gone on to get his liberal arts degree. He’d worked his way up to become a supervisor in the prison’s millwork shop. He had no infractions, no complaints from the guards or warden, current or previous. He exhibited leadership qualities, partook in sports, enjoyed woodworking, reading, and working out. He kept himself in good physical shape; Kathryn couldn’t help but notice that detail when she was at the prison.
She tried to dismiss the image from her mind as she turned back to the pile of paperwork on the bed in front of her. She couldn’t afford to put too much attention on one man. She needed to organize the groups that would be starting in just two days, and fax the information to the warden. As she looked over the lists of names her associates had given her, she was relieved to find that it was relatively easy to divide the men into four groups.
Everything was falling into place nicely. With lists ready to fax to the prison, Kathryn turned her attention to the ten men she had selected for her group. She’d included ones she felt would qualify to participate in her extended program. The program had not yet been approved. It depended on the success of the initial sessions. But Kathryn was confident, and she wanted to hand pick the small group of men that with her help would successfully re-establish themselves outside the prison walls.
SOME OF THE OLDER MEN shied away from learning, especially about computers, but technology didn’t intimidate Gavin. He embraced it. He saw it as his connection with the outside world that he would soon be a part of again. He’d learned all he could, first from the volunteers that came to Swenton, then from courses offered online. He marveled at the Internet, the connection it gave him, the knowledge it held. He’d never hesitated to research any subject that interested him, and now he knew it held the answers he desperately wanted.
Gavin wasn’t willing to entertain the possibility that he was crazy, nor was he willing to let anyone else brand him with that label. He was determined to find an explanation for what had happened to him, and the Internet was the place to look. He googled words and phrases. He even asked direct questions of the mighty cyber guru. Anything he felt might relate to his situation was directed to the source of all knowing, disguised as a humble, aged computer.
As he sat seeking direction in front of the monitor one evening, he summed up what he felt were the “facts” in the whole affair. Gavin was using the term loosely. He was also careful to keep his thoughts and speculations, and especially his findings, to himself. He refused to write anything down, even though keeping notes would have been beneficial to his cause.
I sat through Kate’s introduction twice now. I know I did, he insisted. The second time, I knew what she was going to say before she said it. And those sessions with her…the counseling felt real. The other times together…well, I know I imagined those. He couldn’t help thinking back to their exhilarating adventures and the times they’d kissed.
And Ryan…he continued. I met him. I talked to him. I saw him die, and yet nobody else remembers him. It’s like the kid never existed.
Then there’s the fact that I spent nearly three weeks in the infirmary, during which time I believed all this to be happening. He shook his head. It was too simple an explanation to dismiss it as hallucinations brought on by a high fever, especially now that Kate was real and was beginning her rehabilitation program—the same program he’d already taken part in.
What about all I learned? Gavin asked himself. The meditation techniques and everything else Kate taught me, like my reason for being here. Where did all that come from? And what about the things Ryan said? As strange as the kid was, Gavin couldn’t argue with his words—many of which lined up with Kate’s teaching.
Gavin had been trying to escape in his mind, but Kate’s guided meditations had taken him to a whole new level. They’d left him intoxicated, wanting more. He’d learned to create with his thoughts and even change the outcome of his creations with a change of focus. Not only that but he’d fallen in love.
I saw the future, for God’s sake! He felt himself getting frustrated. I met Kate, somehow, before she even came here. That must mean something!
Back to his task, he googled “premonition,” “out-of-body experience,” and “paranormal.” Premonition was being defined as a forewarning, intuition, hunch, or feeling. No, Gavin decided, it was more than a feeling. I experienced it.
Literally hundreds of thousands of sites came up under the other terms he’d typed, and for a moment he felt overwhelmed at the prospect of having to wade through so much information. Then he remembered something Kate had said to him: “Reality is a tricky thing.” Ryan had said much the same: “None of this is real, you know.”
That was the direction Gavin needed. He had to learn all he could about reality—what it was, what it wasn’t, what other people had to say about it. He typed in the word and sat back with a sense of anticipation, knowing that the answer to his deepest questions could be a mouse click away.
KATHRYN AND HER ASSOCIATES arrived early for the first day of group sessions. She was tingling with excitement and a little nervousness as she prepared the room for her group. She set ten chairs in a semicircle, leaving a space for herself and an easel she’d brought along. On the whiteboard surface, she wrote the famous lines from Shakespeare’s As You Like It: “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts.”
She chose the quotation to emphasize specific truths she wanted to convey. The first was that all men and women were essentially the same, and the second—the one she intended to stress repeatedly throughout the program—was that the men were more than what they saw in themselves. What they were experiencing was merely an act, a scene from the play called life. It didn’t need to define who they were or what they chose to experience as they moved on with their lives.
The program had received much criticism from its opponents. The basis of the teaching was that a person created his or her own reality through thought, whether consciously or not. It was an age-old teaching that had surfaced briefly and sporadically throughout the centuries. In recent years the idea had caught on suddenly and become a worldwide phenomenon. The nations’ talk show hosts heralded it, making “Law of Attraction” a household term. But as fads do, it eventually subsided to be replaced by the next latest craze.
Its overnight stardom, however, had caused it to become the subject of debate at one of the most prestigious universities in the nation. Out of that debate was born the determination to prove the theory’s validity. After many years it was finally being acknowledged and was now the foundational teaching of the trial program that was about to begin. Kathryn was thrilled and honored to be part of it, not just because it was history in the making, but because the men at Swenton had so much to gain by receiving it.
Her late husband had done most of the research; he’d made tremendous breakthroughs in the world of psychology and modern medicine with his findings. Kathryn was immensely proud of the work he’d done, glad too that he’d been recognized with the Nobel Prize before his untimely death.
She had picked up where her husband left off, and now Kathryn was charting new territory. Backed by years of research, acknowledged by professionals in various fields, and supported with government funding, she was nevertheless heading into the unknown, the untried. Along with the excitement, she felt a slight burden of responsibility, as if the success of the program was now up to her. The fulfillment of her husband’s hopes and dreams, his life’s greatest work, was on her shoulders.
The thoughts lowered her vibration, so she quickly banished them. They weren’t in keeping with what she believed or what she planned to impart to the men in just a few moments. She truly believed that success wasn’t simply about the accomplishments or t
he awards. Success could best be measured by the amount of joy in a person’s life.
As she heard the door open, she looked up and smiled; her students had arrived; her program had begun.
Chapter 8
AS HE ENTERED the room, Gavin noticed the difference right away. Kate was wearing a different outfit than she had for the ‘first’ first session he had attended. As well, he noticed the words written on the white board. Neither the easel nor the quotation had been part of the session Gavin had already attended.
As he listened, he noted more differences. She introduced herself as Kathryn, not Kate. She seemed more formal, somehow, than the woman he’d come to know.
He filed his observations with the rest of the data he’d collected in the past few days. He still didn’t have clear answers, but he was getting closer; he could feel it. It was a treasure hunt of sorts. Each clue led to another. He’d found several interesting websites and had come across the name of a book that he was able to have transferred from the city library. He was devouring it in his cell at night.
Reality was a topic of which everyone from Albert Einstein to Shirley MacLaine had something to say. He was happy to find that science wasn’t silent on the subject. He had read about a man named Heisenburg, the cofounder of quantum physics, who taught that atoms were not things but rather tendencies. Another man claimed that everything people see and experience is essentially nothing more than a hologram. It was a fascinating subject—one Gavin had barely begun to touch on.
Watching Kate closely as she led the session, Gavin noted that certain elements mirrored the first. The guided meditation was nearly the same and the theme of her message unchanged. Gavin silently questioned the differences. If I was foreseeing the future, then why is this future different from the one I observed? What would cause it to be altered in these seemingly insignificant ways?