Earl's novella in progress

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Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Tue Dec 30, 2014 7:24 am

I don’t remember the year this happened.  I believe my older daughter was in junior high and my younger daughter was in elementary school.  One day I told them I was going to write a short story.  A brief morality tale that would have a dark ending.  They urged me to write a story that had a happy ending instead of a bad one.  

Well, I did come up with a much longer story that has an entirely different plot.  It will have a happy ending (at least for most of the characters); but ironically, the storyline is much darker.  I had thought my attempt at literary creation would be a short story, but it has grown in length to become a novella in progress.  It’s now 48 pages long.  I’m only about half finished writing it.  I hope to finish in the new year although I’ve learned to be careful about making promises I’m not able to keep.

Several of the former members of Ray’s old forum have read earlier drafts that I mailed or e-mailed to them.  I’ve ended up sending two or more such drafts to Big Fat Heretic and other individuals as well because of an interesting problem I’ve encountered in writing this novella.

Countless times I’ve had the experience of writing new text that seemed to be perfect.  But after some time had passed, I would read what I had written previously; and I would see that I had been wrong.  I would realize that one or more revisions needed to be made.  

Last year I learned that I had not been using the best method to write a lengthy work of fiction.  I wasn’t aware that there is a disconnect between the mind of the writer and what he has actually written.  Apparently, the mind of the writer requires the passing of time in order to process the revisions that need to be made.  A new manager at my health club once was employed as an English professor, and my second daughter’s husband is a high-school English teacher.  Both of them told me about this particular phenomenon.  The new manager suggested that I write as much as I can in a single day, but that I don’t read it the next day (which is what I had been doing).  Instead, I’m supposed to wait a week before I read it to make revisions.  Instead, on the very next day, I’m to continue writing by picking up where I left off.  And so on.

The big mistake I had made was trying to write linearly, which means that I’ve been writing at a very slow pace for years.  Plus, I’ve had to come back repeatedly to make all the necessary revisions.

I believe that I’ve finally reached the point where I won’t have to make any more revisions to the first 48 pages of my novella.  Of course, on a number of occasions, I've thought I had reached that point, only to find out later that I was wrong.

Anyway, I’ve started this topic to post all of the pages of my current draft.  

As we all know, in the narrative of a novel or short story, a blank line in the text is used to indicate a break of some sort.  Instead of trying to do that, I’ve decided to indicate the break by giving titles to the sections.

Edit:  I've just discovered another reason why I need to give a title to each section of the text of my novella.  I'm not able to indent paragraphs on the post composition page; so, I have to leave a blank line between each pair of paragraphs for the sake of easier reading.

I will try to post the entire text of a single section every day or every other day.  

When I have finished writing the rest of my novella (using the method I’ve just described), I will post the rest of it.

Other members, of course, are welcome to post any comments they please.  I don’t claim to be a professional writer, and I have no intention of submitting my novella for publication. It has been a labor of love and represents my very best efforts.  I only hope that a few readers might enjoy it.  I also hope to create more interest in this forum on the part of any visitors who might come our way.

P.S.  I guess you could say the genre of my novella is dark fantasy -- which means that it includes elements of science fiction, fantasy, and horror.  If I violate a scientific law of some sort or contradict an undeniable fact of science in the telling of my story, please forgive!   Mr. Green!


Last edited by Earl on Tue Dec 30, 2014 8:49 am; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Tue Dec 30, 2014 8:16 am

Used








Section 1
The Abduction


A carpenter by trade, Loren Nolan was a single young man who lived in a newly built suburb north of the city of Houston. On a chilly Saturday night late in November, he would become an agent of death.  

His crew had been ordered to complete a construction job over the weekend.  Since they finished their work in the late afternoon of that Saturday, they would get Sunday off.  Therefore, since he would not have to get up early in the morning, Loren felt free to stay up late.  

Before he drove back to his apartment, he used his cell phone to call a friend who had invited him to a party at a popular sports bar in the city.  The young carpenter told his friend he would be able to come after he had changed out of his work clothes and cleaned up.

He was looking forward to having a good time, but late that night he would be subjected to the most harrowing experience of his life.

When the NFL game was over, Loren left the sports bar.  He was not sober as he drove on the freeway.  

Shortly after midnight he missed his exit and took the next one.  Then he made several turns and found himself on a county road in a sparsely populated area.  Since he was drunk, he did not care he was lost.  He also did not realize that the wrong turns he had made had not been of his own volition.  

But all of a sudden, a flash of intuition penetrated the alcoholic haze of his mind; and gooseflesh broke out on his forearms and the back of his neck. This reflex action of his skin was not caused by the chill of the night air, for Loren had the uncanny feeling he was not alone.  But that just did not make any sense.  No one was riding with him in the cab, and he knew that no one was hiding in the bed of his pickup.  

Now he longed to know where he was, but the thought of turning back never occurred to him.

As he continued to drive aimlessly, the two-lane asphalt road led him into a dense forest.  Tall pines and oaks lined both sides of the road, and there was not a single home or filling station in sight.  The moon was full that cold night; but a blanket of clouds had covered the sky, shutting out the celestial illumination.  The only dispellers of darkness were the headlights of his pickup and the lights of the dashboard.  

Now he had the uncanny feeling that the unseen presence was not even human, and the absence of a fellow human being in the cab of his pickup added to his anxiety.  He felt cut off from the rest of humanity and longed to see at least another driver on the road.  If his intuition had possessed a voice, it would have been screaming at him to turn back before it was too late.

Loren was so distracted by his apprehension that he failed to notice his pickup had drifted over to the left side of the road. He was also unaware that he was approaching a blind curve to the right.  


Last edited by Earl on Thu Apr 02, 2015 1:34 pm; edited 10 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Tue Dec 30, 2014 8:30 am

Suddenly, he was blinded by the glare of oncoming high beams.  He spun the steering wheel of his pickup all the way to the right to avoid a collision and missed the other car by only a few inches.  The other driver was not as fortunate.  The sedan he was driving veered off the road to Loren’s left and crashed into the wide trunk of a tall oak.

Loren brought his pickup to a halt on the shoulder of the road.  Then he got a heavy-duty flashlight out of his emergency kit and opened the cab door.

As he walked across the road to the other side, he could not hold the flashlight steady because he was trembling with fear.  He not only feared that he had just ruined his life by causing the death of the other driver, but also was quite afraid that his ordeal had only just begun.

As Loren approached the smashed sedan, drifting clouds allowed the moon to appear in the sky.  Pale moonlight bathed the face of a black man in his thirties who looked up at Loren from the driver’s seat with unseeing eyes.  The steering column of his car had torn loose and crushed his narrow chest. His thick black glasses were askew on his face, and blood trickled down both sides of his jaw from the corners of his open mouth and dripped on his yellow shirt.

Yes, the doctor is dead.

Completely lacking the warmth of humanity, the sinister voice Loren had just heard had not been transmitted by means of sound waves to his ears.  He was absolutely terrified by the realization that his unseen stalker had spoken telepathically.  

Loren slowly turned around as he shined his flashlight all about him.  Trying to sound fearless, he called out, “Where are you?  Show yourself!  SHOW YOURSELF NOW!”  He was expecting his inhuman stalker to walk or run toward him.  The possibility of its hovering above his head never occurred to him.  

If he had tilted his head all the way back, he would have seen what appeared to be a black disc suspended horizontally in midair about three stories above the ground.  It was about the size of a manhole.  Standing out in contrast, its deep blackness was even darker than that of the moonlit night. From his point of view on the ground, he would not have been able to tell that it was not a three-dimensional object.  Had he been able to view it from different angles, he would have seen that it had no thickness.  

Loren was unaware that he was standing beneath a portal to another dimension.  He was also unaware that his invisible stalker was hovering immediately below the portal.  A shapeless extraterrestrial composed of nothing but energy.  

Moving through the air above his pickup, the energy being had followed him from the sports bar; and by the power of its mind, it had taken advantage of his drunken state to manipulate his driving.  Then it had opened the portal as he was staring at the dead driver of the smashed sedan, and now it was extending tentacles of energy for the purpose of seizing him.

You are coming with me.

Suddenly, Loren felt as if a tentacle were wrapping itself around the part of his body where his left arm joined his left shoulder.  At the same time, he felt the same sensation around the part where his right arm joined his right shoulder.  He also felt as if several thick tentacles were winding themselves around his torso.  But there was nothing he could see.  

Before he could react, his feet left the ground as his body began to rise slowly but steadily.  He wildly swung his flashlight like a club repeatedly, but failed to strike anything.  Then another tentacle of energy yanked it out of his hand, and the flashlight somersaulted through the air and landed on top of a bush.  He was terrified by the energy being’s lack of visibility.  


Last edited by Earl on Mon Mar 16, 2015 5:00 pm; edited 1 time in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Tue Dec 30, 2014 8:36 am

Looking upward, he saw the circle of deep blackness enlarging like the mouth of a ravenous monster from someone’s worst nightmare.  His screams were muffled when the energy being completely enveloped his body.  His heart continued to beat rapidly, but he could no longer move his arms or legs.  

As it began to move through the portal into the deep blackness, Loren could feel the extraterrestrial seeping into the flesh that covered his skull.  He experienced no pain.  Only a peculiar tingling sensation.  The energy being was moving with incredibly great precision through intermolecular space without disturbing any of the countless molecules that made up his flesh.

As it began to penetrate his skull, he instantly recalled a horror short story he had once read about an evil spirit that drove a man’s mind out of his own body.  Loren’s mind conjured up the image of a helpless driver who had lost control of his car, which was hurtling at a high speed toward a brick wall.  I’M GOING TO DIE! he screamed silently to himself over and over again.  Then he felt a sudden chill and lost consciousness just before his head began to enter the portal.  

As his feet disappeared into the deep blackness, the portal began to shrink like the aperture of an optical instrument.  A hissing sound could be heard until it had closed.

Loren had vanished from the earth.

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 2:44 am

Section 2
From the Void to the Past


He opened his eyes, but all he could see was total darkness.  With a start he realized that he was not lying on any kind of a surface.  Then he felt all around with his hands for something to touch, but found nothing.  He seemed to be weightless as if he were floating in outer space, but there was not a single pinpoint of light anywhere.  The oppressive darkness was so overwhelming that he felt like he was suffocating.  Then he remembered the energy being seeping into his head, and now he was on the verge of screaming hysterically.  

No, it can’t be!  It can’t be!  If I’m dead, I must be in -- I MUST BE IN --

DO NOT SCREAM!  Get a grip on yourself.  You will be of no use to me if you become hysterical.  You’re not dead yet.


“Where am I?”

I have brought you into another dimension known as the Void where there is neither warmth nor air.  There is only darkness and emptiness.  

I have completely surrounded your body to protect you from harm.  In addition to generating enough heat to keep you from freezing to death, I have also brought an air supply with us.  If I were to release you now, you would die instantly.  

I am keeping you alive because I have need of you.  You are no longer inebriated because I detoxified your body while you were unconscious, and you will not experience any drowsiness while I am using you because I have also restored your body’s powers.


“Who are you?  What are you?  Why have you brought me here?”

I am an energy being from another galaxy.  I am composed of nothing but energy; and I feed upon energy in all of its many forms, although I prefer certain forms over others.  If I were deprived of energy, I would begin to dissipate in the form of heat; and if this deprivation lasted long enough, I would cease to exist as a being.  I am as old as the universe, which I have been searching for the forms of energy I prefer.  Especially the energy produced by the negative emotions of intelligent beings.  

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 3:07 am

“I can’t believe this is really happening.  This is so unreal.  It’s straight out of an unbelievable science-fiction show.  This is madness.  I must be out of my mind.  I must be --”

Suddenly, he screamed in pain.

The pain you have just experienced was caused by a discharge of energy that penetrated your buttock and struck your sciatic nerve.  

Was that pain real enough for you?  Do you need further convincing?


Loren was speechless.

This is very real.  You had better listen carefully to what I have to say.

Just as you humans prefer certain foods over others, I have discovered that I have a particular preference for the
dark passions of your race -- fear, anger, hatred, rage, sorrow, despair, hopelessness.  I developed a deep hunger for them on the day I came to your planet.  

Feeding upon the negative emotions of individual humans living under ordinary circumstances is not enough for me. Sufficiently large quantities of the emotional energies I so eagerly desire to consume are produced by calamities that befall
nations -- war, famine, pestilence, economic catastrophe, tyranny.  But I am not content to simply wait for these disasters to develop or occur.  I intend to cause them.  

“You can’t do that!  You have no right to selfishly indulge yourself at the expense of our well-being!  We’re not animals to be exploited or slaughtered!”

You humans are inferior beings.  The welfare of your puny race is of no concern to me.

“We’re NOT inferior!  We’re highly intelligent and creative, and we’ve accomplished so much in --”

SILENCE!  The accomplishments of your race mean nothing to me.

You will do exactly as I say, or I will kill you.  

I have acquired a detailed knowledge of human anatomy and physiology by reading the minds of physicians. Consequently, I know how to inflict the most excruciating pain upon the body. As you have already experienced, I have the ability to strike sensitive nerves with discharges of energy. I also have the ability to freeze and burn targeted tissues, and I can rupture any number of the body’s 37 trillion cells simultaneously. I also have the power to shatter teeth and bones.

So, if you refuse to obey, you will suffer an extremely unpleasant death.  You would also die in vain since I would easily find an obedient replacement.

Resistance is futile.  There is absolutely nothing that you or any of your fellow humans can do to stop me.  Do you understand, human?


“Yes.”

You asked me why I have brought you into this dimension of darkness.  Listen carefully as I explain.

There is a portal in this Void to yet another dimension, which is called the River of Time.  This particular dimension provides the means to travel in time for those who know how to navigate it.  Certain authorities have forbidden anyone from even entering the Void because the River of Time can be used to change history, but that is exactly what you and I have already begun to do.

Prior to my arrival on your planet, I had had no reason to travel in time.  But when I had found negative human emotions to be so satisfying, I used the River of Time to survey the past history of your race.  I was absolutely delighted to see that your history is stained with bloodshed.  
 


Last edited by Earl on Sat Apr 18, 2015 4:41 pm; edited 12 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 3:21 am

I also surveyed the future of your country before I returned to the present.  Your country has never gone through the sort of traumatic mass suffering that was experienced by certain other countries during the last century.

“Leave my country alone!  You’re now familiar with the violent history of our race.  So, why don’t you just travel back in time to a place where large quantities of negative emotional energies are about to be produced?”

There are laws of physics that even your brightest scientists would not understand.  These laws impose two major limitations upon my abilities whenever I use the River of Time.  

The first limitation deprives me of the ability to directly consume the energy I need for my sustenance.  This ability can be restored only by returning to the present.

The only way I am able to obtain any energy while traveling in time is by absorbing it through a particular kind of medium.  That medium is the living body of a sufficiently intelligent corporeal being from the present.  On this planet such bodies are to be found only among competent adult humans such as yourself.

When I first traveled in time, I did not bring such a human with me.  Upon returning to the present, I was in a dangerously depleted state.  I had to spend hours consuming all of the energy I needed to replenish my body.  

So, to answer your question, I am not able to directly consume negative emotional energies in the past.  Any such energy that I absorbed through the required medium would be changed in form.  It would no longer be the form I so eagerly desire to consume.


“Have you already changed the future of my country?”

Yes.  But we are far from finished.  Our work has only just begun.

Your country is in economic and moral decline now, but that decline was going to be reversed in the future.  Six years from now, your country would have entered a new period called the American Renaissance.  It would have begun with the inauguration of Leslie Keith as the first female President of your country.  

There would have been a strong economic resurgence during her time in office.  This development would have had the effect of calming political discourse, and civility would have become the norm.  During this great period, a new patriotism would have led to the reform of institutions whose leaders had long compromised with corruption.  Your country’s culture would have been uplifted by the outstanding contributions of great artists and writers, and groundbreaking discoveries of scientific geniuses would have benefited the human race.  

I could not allow this bright future to be realized.  I knew there could be no American Renaissance without Leslie Keith, whose political leadership would have prevented economic catastrophe for your country.  She had to be eliminated.

So, I began to trace Leslie Keith’s life back from the day of her presidential inauguration; and I discovered that her life would be threatened by a rare pathogenic virus in the year before her election.  The hemophilic Leslie Keith would contract a terminal disease from a transfusion of contaminated blood, but her life would be saved.  A brilliant medical researcher named Andrew Goodman had discovered the cure for this disease in the year before she would contract it.

I had discovered a very weak link between the present and the future.  Your country’s future was dependent upon the life of a single individual.  An individual whose groundbreaking discovery was only four years from now.  

So, I used you to eliminate Andrew Goodman, who would have been one of the leading figures of the American Renaissance.
 


Last edited by Earl on Sat Apr 18, 2015 5:19 pm; edited 6 times in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 3:58 am

His demise has already changed the future of your country.  Without his discovery Leslie Keith will die before her time, and without her there will be no American Renaissance.

Even though the doctor had been eliminated, I wanted to use the River of Time to check to be sure that Leslie Keith would die from the disease.  I also wanted to see how disastrous the consequences of her untimely death would be for your country.  

But I did not want to travel in time without the living body of a sufficiently intelligent corporeal being from the present. So, instead of leaving you by the side of the road, I subdued you and brought your unconscious form with me as I moved into the Void.  You remained unconscious while we traveled in time.

Upon returning to the time when Leslie Keith had contracted the disease, I traced the last days of her life.  

I saw her funeral.  Many political dignitaries had come to honor the deceased, who had previously been a member of Congress.  No doubt you would have found it all to be quite touching.  

Now her parents will go to their own graves without knowing that their beloved daughter had been destined for greatness.  What would have been the thrill of their lives will not be realized now.

Human, get a grip on yourself.  Shall I strike your sciatic nerve again?


“No.”

Then stop your crying.

The energy being paused while Loren regained his composure.

The burial service was interrupted by the sudden appearance of an electromagnetic barrier that caused the passing of time to come to a stop.  All of the motion around me ceased, and I could no longer move forward in time.  This obstruction must have been caused by the elimination of Leslie Keith.  

The barrier also displayed a vision of a bleak future for your country.  I could not have been more pleased.  I saw that a charismatic political leader whose ideology was radically different from that of Leslie Keith would subjugate your country. At the present time, this special one just happens to be a football player on your favorite college team.

This vision was followed by a chronological series of five short visions.  Each of the first four visions revealed an
intervention that will be carried out in the special one’s past by the two of us.  

When I had finished viewing the visions, I brought us back to the present in the Void, where you regained consciousness.  
But now we will return to the River of Time to carry out these interventions when I have finished speaking to you.  The time and the place of each intervention were revealed by its vision.  So, I know where we need to go and when we need to get there.

Your participation in three of the four interventions is necessitated by the second major limitation imposed upon my abilities.  Whenever I use the River of Time, I am also deprived of the ability to aim a discharge of energy at a target, such as your sciatic nerve.  

But neither of these limitations is insurmountable.  The second limitation will be overcome by means of your brain and your eyes.  

This means that when we carry out each of the three interventions to which I have just referred, I will first have to gain control of your body.  If you remain calm, this process will take less than a half-minute.  But if you panic when you begin to lose control of your body, it will take longer than it has to; and you will experience pain.


Last edited by Earl on Tue Mar 17, 2015 12:31 am; edited 3 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:12 am

Then I will direct energy to the center of your brain.  From there it will be routed to your eyes, which will be used to aim its discharge.

“You’re going to direct energy into my brain?”

You will experience certain sensations, but not any pain.  

As I have just said, traveling in time deprives me of the ability to aim a discharge of energy.  But when we enter the River of Time to carry out the interventions, I will not be deprived of the ability to direct energy into your brain.  This is because I have already established a link to your mind.

The last of the five visions predicted the effect of the interventions upon the barrier itself.  When we have carried out the last intervention, the barrier will cease to exist; and we will be able to travel past the time of Leslie Keith’s funeral on our way to the future.

You know what happens in the past determines the future.  The barrier’s vision of a bleak future for your country will not be realized unless we change the course of the special one’s life.  That is exactly what we are going to do now.


Suddenly, on Loren’s left appeared a wall of swirling bright colors.

You are about to witness the unfolding of history.  Before we carry out the first intervention, we are going to travel back in time far enough for you to learn about several humans who will have the greatest impact in the special one’s childhood.  Our destination is the campus of one of the institutions of higher education in your state thirty years ago. This will be where it all begins.

Loren was heartsick.  He wondered how many lives were going to be ruined or destroyed.

The energy being drew closer to the wall of lights, and the two of them instantly found themselves in the River of Time. Loren clamped his eyes shut to shield them from the sudden appearance of light everywhere, and a sound like the howling of a blizzard filled his ears.  

When his eyes had stopped hurting, he opened them just a little.  Then after a moment’s pause, he continued to slowly open them all the way as they became accustomed to the light.  He looked in every direction, but all he could see was an empty white expanse.  There were no other colors to be seen.

He had felt nauseous at first; but as the energy being moved among countless currents of time, their soft vibrations had an odd soothing effect. Feeling detached from reality, he felt as if he were flying like a bird in a dream.

They traveled against the flow of the River of Time at a steady speed, but soon began to slow down.  The energy being also began to descend. Loren, who had been weightless, was gradually re-exposed to the force of gravity and regained his weight.

Suddenly, the unnatural white expanse was displaced by familiar blue sky.  For a split second, Loren was disoriented as if he had been awakened from sleep and had no idea where he was.  Then he was terrified when he saw that he was as high in the sky (with no visible means of support) as a TV reporter in a news helicopter.  The sprawling campus of the University of Texas could be seen.  

The energy being had brought him out of the white expanse, but they were still traveling in time.  As it continued to direct their descent, Loren gazed at the odd sight of cars and people rapidly moving backwards.  This rapid movement was gradually slowing down as the energy being continued to slow to a stopping point in its motion through space and time. Loren was being lowered down to a large parking lot on the campus of the university.  The backward movement of the cars and people came to a stop as the soles of his shoes touched the pavement of the parking lot, and then the cars and people started moving forward as the passing of time resumed.  


Last edited by Earl on Sat Apr 04, 2015 4:32 am; edited 5 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:24 am

We have arrived in the first month of the year.  The time of day is the late afternoon.  

I have made provision for all of your bodily needs so that we will not be interrupted and have to attend to them.  While you were unconscious, I placed a small pouch containing several food capsules in the right pocket of your jeans and a small vial containing a clear liquid in the left pocket.  When you get hungry, just remove a single capsule from the pouch and swallow it.  A single sip from the vial should be enough to quench your thirst.  

Since there obviously is no need currently to protect you from harm, I am no longer surrounding your body.  But I have rendered you invisible to keep you from being seen, and no one will be able to hear the sound of your voice.  Any attempt by you to escape or warn others will be met with swift punishment.


Loren looked around.  A tall middle-aged man was being escorted to his car by a powerfully built young man who was looking out for troublemakers. They were walking along a long row of parking spaces.  The older man had parked his car in the last space.  A curious, slightly built young man wearing glasses was standing by his own car near the end of the row.  He had noticed the two men walking in his direction.

These three humans will play vital roles in the life of the special one, although one of them will die before he is even born.  
When I call your attention to each one of them individually, you will be given a mind link to that human.  You will be given links to several other humans as well when we stop at other times and places.

Each link will be attached to your eyes.  However, since the links will be composed of energy from my body, you will not be able to see or feel them.  They also will not occupy space so as to cause any sort of inconvenience.

As to its abilities, the link to a human’s mind will enable you to read his thoughts.  

Relevant memories of the human will also be accessed and downloaded to the computer that is your brain.  These memories will provide information about the human’s background, and they will help you understand his behavior.

You will be able to activate a link by just willing it to happen whenever the human is within your sight.  You will also be able to deactivate a link by the power of your mind.  Otherwise, an activated link will deactivate itself when you have learned all you need to know at that point in time about the human.  

Finally, you will be able to use two or more links at the same time.  

I will now give you a mind link to the middle-aged human.  He is the political theorist.


His receding hairline, piercing eyes, and aquiline nose reminded Loren of a bird of prey.  As he looked upon him, he began to read the older man’s thoughts.  He also felt his emotions as if they were his own.  

Dr. Matthews says I have less than a year to live.  I’m truly a dead man walking.


Last edited by Earl on Sat Apr 04, 2015 4:37 am; edited 6 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:35 am

His name was Karl Streicher.  He was a political science professor at the university.  

He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer at the beginning of the fall semester.  University officials had publicly expressed sympathy for the professor and announced that he would be retiring at the end of the academic year.  

During the dark fall of that year, he gave vent to his grief and rage by writing an extremely controversial book entitled The Death of Democracy in the United States, which was published by a small press shortly before Thanksgiving.  He argued that both of the major political parties were irredeemably corrupt.  Instead of promoting the national interest, professional politicians were serving special interest groups and bringing about the country’s decline.  Rejecting democratic principles as a hindrance, Dr. Streicher advocated fascism as the solution to the nation’s problems.  He stressed the supremacy of the state over its citizens.  Although he rejected racism and antisemitism, the political science professor denigrated nonconformity and the concept of individual rights.  The country’s problems were too great to be solved by democratic reform.  Only a strong, ruthless leader could save America from itself.

The swift reaction to Dr. Streicher’s controversial book was completely negative.  None of his colleagues, conservative or liberal, came to his defense. Some expressed outrage over his advocacy of authoritarianism while others just felt pity for him.   Letters published in the local daily and the student newspaper dismissed him as a kook.  Campus leftists demanded that he be fired immediately, and angry student activists pelted him with tomatoes and rotten eggs.

It took less than a second for the link to access and download all of these memories to Loren’s mind.  He was left with a feeling of slight dizziness.

The human standing over there will become the father of the special one.

Loren turned his attention to the slightly built guy and tried to think of the words that would convey his sympathy to the terminally ill professor, whose political science course he had taken when he was a freshman.  He thought the reaction of the campus leftists was excessive, and he was appalled by their lack of compassion for a man who did not have long to live.  The professor should have been given a pass.  His political manifesto did not pose a subversive threat to freedom. It was merely the ineffectual rant of a dying man.

His name was David Stryker.  

He had grown up in a broken home.  

His parents divorced when he was only four years old; and he was left in the custody of his mother, a working woman who frequently had to work late. An uncle and his wife, a kindhearted couple who had no children of their own, happened to live in a nearby subdivision.  So, they volunteered to take care of the young boy while his mother was at work.

The uncle, who had taken a fatherly interest in his nephew, helped him through difficult times as he was growing up. Since he stuttered and was afflicted with asthma, David was subjected to ridicule and bullying at school.  During his adolescence he was shy and self-conscious and felt unattractive to girls.  

But his uncle taught him how to develop coping skills, and David persevered in achieving his goal of academic excellence. He received a scholarship to attend the university and graduated with honors from high school, and now he was about to graduate summa cum laude with a degree in history.


Last edited by Earl on Sat Apr 04, 2015 4:43 am; edited 5 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:42 am

The human escorting the political theorist will become the special one’s mentor.

Before he began to read his mind, Loren had assumed that the powerfully built guy was a Texas Longhorns football player. He noticed that his ruggedly handsome face was marred by the presence of a jagged scar on his right cheek.  (He had been nicknamed “Scar” by his friends.)  His cold gray eyes were matched by gray hair that was very closely cropped.

The football player wanted the scrawny guy to keep his mouth shut.  He was in a really bad mood now.  Several of the troublemakers had called him a dumb jock.  Even though he had conditioned himself to react stoically to physical pain, he could still feel the sting of the name-calling.  

He had always been a serious student and was not attending the university to have a good time with the social climbers and the groupies.  Unlike some of his teammates, the taciturn football player had no use for wild parties.  He was there to get an education.  His childhood dream had been to play professional football, a dream that would become a reality.  But his immediate goal as a student at the university had been to earn a degree that would enable him to pursue another career when he retired from the NFL.  

He saw that the scrawny guy was about to say something; so, he resorted to his fierce look to discourage him from speaking.  Glaring at him, he snapped, “What’re you gawking at?”  

David was speechless.

His name was Darren Black.  

His childhood had been rough.  

The young woman who would become his mother got married within a month of her graduation from high school.  She expected to live the life of a traditional housewife who would not have to work outside the home.

But Darren and his mother were deserted by his father for another woman when he was only seven years old.  The faithless husband and father left a farewell note addressed to his wife, but he himself disappeared without a trace.  

The young mother not only lacked saleable skills, but also had lost her parents and had no relatives who were able to provide long-term assistance. There was no way she would be able to keep up with the mortgage payments and other expenses in the affluent neighborhood where she had been living as a housewife.  

The kindhearted man who had been her husband’s business partner hired her out of sympathy to work for him as a secretary, and she and her young son moved to an apartment.  But when Darren was ten years old, his mother’s benefactor suffered a fatal heart attack; and the company went out of business.  So, he and his mother had to move to a trailer park.  

On a particularly bad day, several of the older boys who lived there beat him severely when he refused to give them his allowance.  Then one of them slashed his right cheek with a switchblade.  To add to his humiliation, they stripped him naked and left him weeping and bleeding.

He resolved from then on that no one would ever hurt him again.  He read paperback books and magazines about bodybuilding and began to build up his physique.  His mother paid for boxing lessons, and he also began to play football in a youth league.

Darren became morally conservative with a vengeance.  By the time he was a senior in high school, he had developed a reactionary mentality.


Last edited by Earl on Sat Apr 04, 2015 4:50 am; edited 5 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:50 am

He blamed his father’s desertion, which had hurt him deeply, on the sexual revolution.  He hated pornography and believed that it should be banned for the good of society.  Although he approved of civil rights for racial, ethnic, and religious minorities, he supported harsh legal sanctions against homosexuals and other sexual deviants.  

Darren despised bullies and criminals, and he deeply resented lenient judges and criminal defense attorneys.  

He also had no use for a particular religious teaching.  Love my enemies?  Absolutely not!  Turn the other cheek?  Oh, really?  So the left side of my face can be scarred as well?  No thanks!

Despite his strong feelings about social issues, Darren had no political affiliation.  He viewed the religious right and other conservatives as being hopelessly ineffective.

For the last four years, he had attended the university on an athletic scholarship because his mother could not afford to pay the tuition.  Darren had considered psychology as a major, but he could not stand the liberal permissiveness that was taught in the classes.  So, he majored in physical education instead.  

He would graduate from the university at the end of the semester, and he would play professional football for seven seasons.  

Darren had longed for a father figure to be in his life ever since his father had deserted him and his mother; but during the rest of his childhood, he did not find one.  Not even among his football coaches.  

However, he finally found a father figure during the fall semester of his senior year at the university.  

On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, Darren learned that his political science professor had published a book.  The senior had returned to Austin on that day from his mother’s apartment in Houston, where he had spent the holidays.  That evening he saw copies of the book in a bookstore where he had hoped to find a Christmas present for his mother.  He did find a book for her, but it was not the only one he bought.  Out of curiosity he also bought a copy of the professor’s book for himself.

By the middle of the week, Darren had finished reading it in his spare time. The book’s message had affected him deeply. Dr. Streicher’s authoritarian defense of traditional moral values answered the deep hurt in his heart.

He spoke to the professor after class. He told him how much he appreciated his book, and he asked if he could make an appointment so they could talk privately. Dr. Streicher told him when he would be available in his office, and Darren came at the appointed time. The professor was impressed by his political views, and he deeply appreciated his support.

They got to know each other, and a close bond formed between them.  The professor, who extolled the traditional nuclear family but had never been married, wished that the strapping football player had been his son.  He autographed Darren’s copy of his controversial book and also gave him several more autographed copies.

But their relationship would be short-lived because time was running out for the man who should have been his father. Darren would grieve deeply.

Even if he had not been the ardent football fan that he was, Loren still would have admired Darren Black for overcoming his rough childhood and accomplishing so much as an athlete.  But he was saddened by his dark side.  

Now he was reading the minds of David Stryker and Darren Black simultaneously as the two young men stared at each other for a moment.  David’s expressionless face purposely concealed his bitter annoyance.

What a jerk!  I wasn’t going to harass the professor!

Leftist nerd!  Don’t you guys have any compassion?  The professor’s going to die soon!


Last edited by Earl on Sun Apr 19, 2015 8:32 pm; edited 11 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 4:56 am

Arrogant jock!  Probably was a bully in high school!  Just like the jerks I had to put up with!  I bet he’s never experienced rejection in his life!

How revealing.  How typical of you humans.  Instead of searching for similarities among yourselves, you seize upon superficial differences in your suspicious and bitter dealings with one another.  No wonder your race is so prone to discord and conflict.  The most intelligent beings of this planet are so easy to manipulate.  

Now we will reverse course and travel forward in time.


As the energy being was traveling to its next destination, Dr. Streicher succumbed to public pressure and his failing health.  Instead of retiring at the end of the academic year, he resigned before the spring break.

On New Year’s Eve of that year, he lay on his deathbed in a hospital.  He was only 53 years old.  Darren was with him when he passed away.

The former professor had told him, “Perhaps this country will be saved by a fine young man like you.”  

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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 5:34 am

Section 3
The Special One


Loren found himself in a well-kept public park on a warm spring day.  The sky was clear, and somewhere nearby Elton John was singing “Blessed” from a portable CD player.  The energy being had brought Loren to an affluent suburb north of the university campus.  Eighteen years had passed.  

He saw David Stryker sitting at a picnic table.  The UT graduate was typing on the keyboard of a laptop.  An attractive woman of the same age as David was tossing a football to a laughing nine-year-old boy.  The husky boy had jet-black hair and bright blue eyes.  

The energy being gave Loren another link, and he began to read the boy’s mind.  When the link had deactivated itself, a tear rolled down Loren’s cheek as he recalled his own lost innocence.  

As you have just learned, the female throwing the ball is his mother; and David Stryker is his father.  This boy is the special one.

“Before we left the Void, you told me the special one is a football player on my favorite college team.  There is a member of the Texas Longhorns named Jason Stryker.  So, this boy is that member at the age of nine?”

Yes.

“He’s a great football player.”

The boy is extremely gifted and has great potential.  He has an extroverted personality, a keen mind, self-assurance, and strong will power.  All the character traits of a natural-born leader.  These traits will serve him well in his future rise to power.

“You said we’re going to change the course of his life.  Are you going to hurt him?”

The barrier has revealed to me what must be done.

“But he’s just a kid!  Leave him alone!”

Don’t be foolish.  He’s not just a kid.  He’s going to play a leading role in your country’s future.  You have no say in what happens to the boy.  The interventions will be carried out.  There is absolutely nothing you can do to protect him.  Unless you are reckless, you will not even attempt to interfere.  If you do, you will deeply regret it.  Do you understand, human?


Last edited by Earl on Wed Mar 18, 2015 9:56 pm; edited 1 time in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 5:52 am

“Yes.”

Loren looked at David again and activated the link to his mind, and memories of the last eighteen years were accessed and downloaded.  

He learned that David finally found a girlfriend in one of his classes at the university during his senior year.  She was a phys ed major named Caroline Sabo who also was a senior.  The two of them became engaged in the spring and got married in the summer.  

That fall Caroline began to teach girls’ P.E. at a junior high school in north Austin while David continued his education as a postgraduate at the university.  

When he had earned a doctorate in history, the university employed him as a professor.  He had overcome his stuttering to become a lecturer who knew how to engage the attention and interest of his students.  

In the eighth year of their marriage, Caroline became pregnant near the end of the school year.  She and David had agreed that day care would not be an option for any child they would bring into the world.  So, she retired from teaching to be a stay-at-home mother.  

Jason was born in February of the following year.  His parents would teach him to be compassionate toward others.  They were especially concerned that he not become a bully.

In addition to teaching classes at the university, David had started to write a series of history books for the reading public.  Last year he had published the first volume of his Twentieth-Century Totalitarianism Series, which he entitled The Life and Times of Karl Marx.  Receiving critical acclaim, the book became a national best-seller.  

He was pleasantly surprised when he received letters of apology from two of his former school bullies, who had read the first volume of his series.  He wrote back to them, expressing his deep appreciation for their compliments.  

As he read David’s mind, Loren found out why he had brought his laptop to the park.  The professor was writing the second volume, which he had entitled The Roots of Fascism.  

Then he paused for a moment as he reflected on his life.  

He had peace of mind.  He had overcome the bitterness of his childhood, and he had a great career and a wonderful family.  As he watched his wife toss the football to their son, he thought what in the world would he do without her.

The boy must become estranged from his father.

This monster is going to destroy this loving family, and there’s nothing I can do about it!  

We will carry out the first intervention at our next stop in time.


Last edited by Earl on Mon Apr 06, 2015 3:34 pm; edited 4 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 9:52 pm

Section 4
Murder in the Park


A year later Caroline Stryker was pregnant with her second child.  She and David were happily anticipating the birth of their daughter, whom they would name Alyssa; and Jason was looking forward to having a baby sister.  

Caroline was taking a brisk walk for exercise on a Sunday morning in the same park where Loren had seen her toss a football to her son.  She had come to the park by herself.  David was doing research at the university for his next book; and Jason was at his best friend’s home, where he had spent the night.  As far as she could see, no one else was in the park.

Since the batteries in her Walkman had just died, she was left with nothing to listen to while she continued her walk.  So, her mind began to wander.  

She recalled the time when she and David were engaged during the spring semester of their senior year at the university. A few of her friends and one of her brothers asked her why she had fallen for a guy who did not share her love of sports. Caroline told them that David had no problem with her being a fan.  She also said he was a man of character who loved people and had a great sense of humor.  

That was nineteen years ago.  Today she was so proud of him.  Despite his lousy childhood, he had accomplished so much.  He was an outstanding professor who had become a best-selling author.  He also was a devoted husband and father, always considerate of her and Jason.  

As a mother she was truly blessed.  She could not have been more proud of her son, who was doing so well in school; and soon she would be holding little Alyssa in her arms.

She was quite content with her life.

But her thoughts were about to be interrupted.  She was unaware of the presence of Loren and the energy being.  She was also unaware of the presence of the serial rapist.  He was waiting for her behind a tall and neatly trimmed hedge ahead of her on the left side of the walkway.

As for Loren, he was being held up in the air by the energy being.

“What are you going to do to her?  WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO --”

Suddenly, Loren lost his voice and went into convulsions.

WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?

I am preparing your body for the first intervention.

I CAN’T STAND THE PAIN!

I told you not to panic.  The pain will subside when you calm down.

 
As the preparation continued, Loren was able to relax.  

His arms slapped to his sides as if they had a will of their own, and his legs straightened out and came together.  He could still breathe and blink his eyes, but the rest of his body had become rigid.

As the energy being levitated the paralyzed Loren toward Caroline, he could actually feel a strange throbbing sensation and hear a soft humming sound inside his head.  A pulsating form of energy unknown to man was coalescing in the center of his brain.

From there it was directed through the optic nerves into his eyes, where it covered the retinas and would not spread beyond them.  As the flow continued and more energy covered the retinas, he could feel a buildup of pressure upon those surfaces.  

His vision was no longer clear.  It had become tinted.  If Loren had been able to see his reflection in a mirror, he would have been horrified to see that his pupils were glowing yellow.

A heavyset man, who was wearing a silk stocking over his head, stepped out from behind the hedge right in front of Caroline, who stopped walking and stood still.  

The energy being had already positioned Loren to her left.  He was still being held up in the air, and his rigid body was tilted forward from a vertical position.  An iron park bench stood between him and Caroline.  

The energy flow inside his head had stopped, but he could still feel the pressure in his eyes.  He had also lost control of them and could no longer blink. Now they began to widen as if he were staring at her, and his pupils dilated.


Last edited by Earl on Wed Apr 08, 2015 12:54 am; edited 11 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 10:01 pm

Keeping her emotions under control, Caroline did not panic.  She was well-trained in judo and knew what to do in a desperate situation of this sort.  Since the rapist was not armed with a gun, she would be able to defend herself easily. The particular judo throw she had in mind would enable her to slam his body to the concrete walkway and knock him out.  
Were it not for the intervention of the energy being, she then would have tied him up and called the police.  That evening she would have told David all about this harrowing experience.  But that was not to be.

Before the rapist could take another step, Caroline began to execute the judo throw.  She quickly sidestepped to her left by moving her left foot first and then the other.  Then she stepped forward to the rapist’s right side with her left leg.  She grabbed hold of his right elbow with her left hand and pulled his arm toward her waist while she used her other hand to push his left shoulder back.  His balance was being shifted from both of his legs to only his right.  While continuing the motion of her hands, she lifted her right foot off the pavement and began to move her leg forward.  She was going to sweep the rapist’s right leg with her own at the back of his thigh.

But at that very moment, well-aimed rays shot suddenly out of Loren’s eyes (much to his shock).  Caroline’s left foot (the only foot on which she was standing) was struck with more than enough force to cause her to lose her balance.  The force also caused her to start falling to the left toward the iron park bench, and the rapist lost his balance and fell on top of her. Since his body was in the way, Caroline was unable to twist around to break the fall with her arms; and her head struck the seat of the bench with deadly force.  Her neck snapped and she died instantly.  

As the rapist fled the scene of the crime, the energy being relinquished control of Loren’s body.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!  YOU MURDERER!  WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL HER?!”


Last edited by Earl on Thu Mar 19, 2015 8:28 pm; edited 3 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 10:26 pm

Section 5
The Funeral


Many people had come to the funeral of Caroline Stryker.  Jason’s friends and many of his other classmates were there. Even though she had not taught at the junior high school in eleven years, the principal and the vice principal had come to pay their respects to the grieving family.  So had many of the teachers at that school.  In addition to relatives on both sides of the family, most of the UT faculty had turned out.  Also present were two invisible time travelers.

Loren could not bring himself to read the minds of David and Jason.  He did not think he could stand the emotional intensity of their grief.  

Caroline had been David’s first and only sweetheart.  Her kind and gentle spirit had enhanced her physical beauty.  The two of them had been happily married for nineteen years.  

David was absolutely devastated by the senseless deaths of his wife and their unborn daughter Alyssa, whose life in the world had not even begun.  He would have been just as devoted to his precious daughter as he was to Jason.  Instead of preserving memories of her childhood with camera and camcorder, he would only have an ultrasound video.

His grief was compounded by his deep concern for his son.  There was no way Caroline could be replaced in Jason’s life or his own.  How am I ever going to cope with this terrible situation?  How in the world am I going to provide for Jason’s emotional needs and at the same time fulfill all of my responsibilities as a university professor when my heart is broken?

As his mother’s coffin was lowered into the grave, Jason displayed no outward emotion because he was too shocked to verbalize his grief.  He grieved not only for his mother, but also for his baby sister, whom he would have loved dearly.  He really had been looking forward to the time when he no longer would have been an only child.  The grief he felt was too deep to be expressed in words.  He had a lost look in his eyes.

When the burial service was over, the crowd of mourners began to disperse. Most of them headed for their cars, but some lingered by Caroline’s grave. Among them were David and Jason.

Lost in his own grief, David could not think of any words that would console his son.

I have just given you a mind link to another human who is related to the special one.  This human is the boy’s sole uncle on his father’s side of the family.  His role in Jason Stryker’s life would have been inconsequential.  But now that we have carried out the first intervention, the uncle will have a major impact in his childhood.  He is the human who will appear to be consoling David Stryker in just a moment.

Lester Stryker was standing by his grieving brother’s left side.  As the uncle stared at his nephew, he reached over and squeezed the top of David’s left shoulder with his right hand in a phony display of empathy.

Loren noticed Lester and found himself lusting after his good-looking ten-year-old nephew.  Immediately deactivating the link to the uncle’s mind, Loren recoiled vehemently from Lester’s thoughts with as much revulsion as if he had unwittingly plunged his hands into a large bucket of vomit.

“He’s a sexual predator, a pedophile!  I can’t believe this!  He’s pretending to comfort his grieving brother while he’s staring at Jason with perversion on his mind!  What a vicious hypocrite!  He really doesn’t care about his brother or his nephew!  Why, I ought to walk over to him right now and punch him --”

You had better restrain yourself, human.  The uncle’s role is vital.  I have already told you there is nothing you can do to protect the boy.  You are in no position to interfere.  

I will not tolerate disobedience.  I am capable of punishing you in ways you would find to be even
more unpleasant than what you have already experienced.

Tiny scrapings of skin found underneath several of Caroline Stryker’s fingernails had yielded DNA specimens, but no match would be found in any forensic data bank.  

Two months after his wife’s death, David would suffer a nervous breakdown.


Last edited by Earl on Wed Apr 08, 2015 12:59 am; edited 4 times in total

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"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 10:45 pm

Section 6
Uncle Creepy


It happened on a Friday in the summer.  Jason had spent the day at a friend’s home where his father had dropped him off that morning on his way to the university.  He had told him he would pick him up late that afternoon.  So, Jason was waiting for him when Uncle Creepy showed up with the terrible news.

Jason did not like his bachelor uncle.  

He had shared his negative feelings about him with several close friends, and Ron had coined the nickname “Uncle Creepy.”  

Lester Stryker had never been close to his brother.  He seldom saw David and Caroline in the first nine years of their marriage.  But when his nephew had come into the world, he began to visit them more often.  

By the time he was five years old, Jason had become wary of his uncle because he would furtively stare at him in a way that made him feel uneasy.  To this very day, he could not figure out why he would give him that creepy look.

The young boy would have objected to being left alone with Lester, but his mother was always home whenever he came over.  Since Jason had not wanted to cause any trouble, he never told his parents that he felt uncomfortable around his uncle.

They had made him feel safe, but now his mother was dead.   

His friend’s mother answered the doorbell while the two boys were playing in the backyard.  When the stranger had identified himself and told her why he had come, she invited him to come inside and showed him to the living room. Then she went to get Jason.

As Jason’s friend stood by and listened, Lester Stryker told his nephew that his father had suffered a nervous breakdown. His father had told the attending psychiatrist where Jason was, and the psychiatrist had notified Lester as his brother’s next of kin that he had been hospitalized.  The psychiatrist had also asked Lester if he would be willing to look after his nephew until his brother was discharged from the psychiatric ward.

Jason was stunned by the terrible news.  He had never felt so vulnerable.  First, his mother had been murdered; and the police still had not come up with a suspect.  And now he felt like his father had abandoned him.  He already missed his dad so much.  

Jason wanted to be brave; so, he kept his emotions under control and did not cry in front of the others.  But when he got into his uncle’s car, he was scared.  He was being left alone with Uncle Creepy for the first time in his life, and he did not know what to expect from him.

Lester first drove to his brother’s home, where Jason packed a suitcase for his stay.  

Both of them were hungry, and Lester knew that Jason loved pizza.  So, he took him to a pizzeria for dinner that evening. When they had finished eating, he drove back to his own home.

As he parked his car in the garage, Lester told Jason he had a video game console hooked up to his TV in the living room. He told his nephew he would put his suitcase in a spare bedroom and check on him later.  Jason began to relax as he played a video game he had selected from his uncle’s collection.  

When Lester came back and stood in the doorway to the living room, his nephew did not notice him.  He was unaware that his uncle was watching him.  Holding an iron rod wrapped in Styrofoam to cushion the blow, Lester approached his nephew with stealthy footsteps.  A sudden blow to Jason’s head knocked him out.

When the energy being came to this time and place, Lester was carrying his unconscious nephew in his arms.  Loren could see blood oozing from an abrasion on the side of Jason’s head.  Lester stepped out of the living room into the hallway, which led to the spare bedroom where he had left Jason’s suitcase.  

Loren immediately read Lester’s mind and angrily swore at the energy being.  “YOU MURDERED JASON’S MOTHER TO SET HIM UP, AND NOW THAT DISGUSTING PERVERT IS GOING TO RAPE HIM!  THIS FAMILY HAS SUFFERED ENOUGH!  I WON’T LET HIM DO IT!  I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU DO TO ME!  I’LL KILL THE --”


Last edited by Earl on Thu Feb 26, 2015 3:55 pm; edited 13 times in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 10:57 pm

STOP!

Loren had started to run after Lester to stop him dead in his tracks, but now he looked like he was frozen in an instant of time.  Both of his hands were clenched into stiff fists, and his motionless face was contorted with rage.  His right foot was raised off the floor, but he was in no danger of toppling over.  He stood rigidly in place as if he were a statue.  Aside from the frantic darting and blinking of his eyes, the only movement his body was making was caused by his panting. Otherwise, he could not move at all.

I warned you repeatedly not to interfere.  Now you are going to suffer the consequences of your disobedience.  You will be forced to read the boy’s mind while he is being traumatized, and the link between the two of you will be intensified. The boy, whose sensitivity will make him suffer even more, is about to lose his innocence in the worst possible way.  You will be forced to experience the physical and emotional pain and humiliation of his sexual violation in your own mind.  You will not be able to deactivate the link until the uncle has satiated his lust.  You, too, will be traumatized as if it had happened to you.  

Loren’s mobility was instantly restored, and the energy being ordered him to follow Lester into the spare bedroom. Overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness and an intense sense of dread, he began to weep.  There was nothing he could do to prevent what was about to happen.

As he entered the room, he saw the unconscious boy lying on a bed.  His uncle, who had stripped him naked, was tying him to the bed with ropes.  

When he had finished tying the ropes, he stuffed a sock into his mouth, which he covered with duct tape.  Then he waved smelling salts under his nose to revive him.  

Except for the soft sound of his muffled cries, Jason was effectively silenced.  

As for Loren, he would soon be screaming in anguish at the top of his lungs; but no one with a human heart would be able to hear him.


Last edited by Earl on Sat Mar 21, 2015 6:11 pm; edited 1 time in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Wed Dec 31, 2014 11:19 pm

Section 7
Flight


When Lester had had his way with his nephew, he did not untie the ropes to free him, but left him alone without saying a word.

More than an hour later, a traumatized Jason fell into a fitful sleep.

The uncle has fallen asleep in his own bedroom.  You can carry out the second intervention now by yourself.  Untie the ropes and wake up the boy by gently shaking his shoulder.

Loren wept as he untied the ropes that Lester had used to tie his nephew to the bed.

Stop your weeping.  Don’t worry, the boy will still become a football star.  But your country will have a bleak future.


When the energy being saw that Jason was awake, it left for its next destination.

He was relieved when he saw that he was no longer tied to the bed.  But he was still terrified by the presence of his uncle somewhere in this house.  He slowly pulled the duct tape off his mouth and pulled out the saliva-soaked sock.  Then he found his clothes and put them back on.  

When he opened the door and looked down the hallway, he could hear his uncle’s loud snoring in another bedroom. Seizing this opportunity to escape, he picked up his suitcase (which had not been unpacked) and crept quietly to the front door.  He was relieved when its hinges did not creak.

Jason had a long way to walk.  

He had no intention of going to the police.  He had no faith in them.  He also was too ashamed to tell any cop what had just happened to him, and he certainly did not want to be returned to his uncle.  So, he kept his eyes peeled for any patrol cars.  

Compared to what he had just been through, the night held no terrors for him.  But he kept turning his head to look behind him.  He was checking to be sure he was not being followed.

While he was walking down a dimly lit street, he began to feel angry toward his father.  

If Dad had been stronger, he wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown; and this wouldn’t have happened.  Uncle Creepy would have left me alone.
 
My dad, the biggest nerd there ever was.  What a wimp!  All of my friends’ dads know how to throw a football, but not
my dad.  He doesn’t have any interest in sports.  I hate him.  I hate him.  I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!  I HATE HIM!

Silent tears were streaming down Jason’s face.

He was on his way to the only place where he would feel safe, which was the home of his best friend Ron.  This lanky boy was the only child of Darren and Susan Black.


Last edited by Earl on Sat Mar 21, 2015 8:48 pm; edited 2 times in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Thu Jan 01, 2015 12:35 am

Section 8
The Incredible Events in Coach Black’s Study


The time was 7:00 o’clock that Saturday morning.  Darren was in his study, sitting on an office swivel chair in front of a large roll-top computer desk.  He had just begun to read the morning paper, and he was drinking tomato juice from a large glass mug.  

Being a health fanatic, he would not drink coffee or any other caffeinated beverage.  He kept himself in top physical condition by watching his diet and working out at a gym every other day.  

As a highly paid NFL player, Darren had been able to provide for his mother, who had made many sacrifices for her fatherless son.  He purchased a vacant lot that was only a block away from her church building.  (His mother had become a Christian.  She had tried to share her faith with him, but he did not want to talk about it.)  Then he hired an architect to design a comfortable home for her, and he paid for its construction.  He also set up a trust fund for her so she would not have to work anymore.  

He retired from playing professional football at the end of his seventh season while he was still sound of body, and he and his wife moved to an affluent suburb in north Austin where he began to coach football at a local high school.

Darren usually read the morning paper at the kitchen table, but he wanted privacy this morning.  He was in a pensive mood.  He enjoyed his second career, but also felt that he had not found the real purpose of his life.

As he was reading an article in the sports section, he finished drinking the tomato juice and placed the empty mug on his desk.  He also placed the sports section on his desk next to the rest of the newspaper when he had finished reading the article.  Then he picked up the first section.

As he turned to the opinion pages, two time travelers came into his study.  The energy being had already prepared Loren’s body for the next intervention.  Suspended horizontally in midair, he was looking down from the ceiling of Darren’s study.  His face was positioned directly above the newspaper sections on the coach’s desk.  

Darren chided himself.  Reading editorials, letters to the editor, and syndicated columns was a waste of his time.  He had no use for any political party or ideology.  He knew the country was going to hell, but there was nothing he could do about it.  


Last edited by Earl on Thu Apr 09, 2015 4:53 am; edited 2 times in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Thu Jan 01, 2015 3:58 am

His thoughts were interrupted by a peculiar tingling sensation in his scalp.  So, he put the section down on top of the rest of the newspaper and scratched his scalp vigorously with both of his hands, but to no avail.  The tingling lasted for nearly a minute.  Then it stopped as inexplicably as it had begun.  

Suddenly, twin bursts of energy flashed out of Loren’s eyes.  The appearance of this radiation was completely different from that of the first intervention’s rays.  Glowing particles of green light fell like drops of rain upon the sections of the newspaper, and the green glow rapidly engulfed them.

Gripping the armrests of his chair, the startled coach stared with apprehension at the glowing objects on his desk.  The glow pulsated as the newspaper pages disintegrated with a loud hiss.  No residue was left.

Once the newspaper had ceased to exist, most of the items on his desk were swiftly shoved off by an invisible force.  The glass mug shattered on the floor.

Then he heard a loud humming sound as a silvery beam of light struck the left side of his desk.  A wide-eyed Darren shot out of his chair and quickly backed away as the silvery beam caused a newspaper to materialize on top of his desk.  Then another newspaper materialized on top of the first one, and a magazine materialized on top of the second newspaper.  To convince himself that he was not hallucinating, Darren pinched his left forearm hard enough to draw blood.  

Forming a tall stack on the desk, more newspapers and magazines materialized one on top of the other.  After shifting to the right side of the desk, the beam of light caused the materialization of another tall stack of newspapers and magazines.  Then it moved to the center of the desk where it stayed for only a few seconds as a single newspaper materialized.  Once this final materialization was complete, the humming sound and the beam of light were cut off.

Darren was lost in thought when Loren was taken away by the energy being.  What he had just witnessed obviously could not be explained by any scientific principles known to man, but he was convinced he had not hallucinated.  So, he accepted this utterly fantastic reality.  He certainly did not doubt there was a vast intelligence behind what had just happened, but wondered why this had been done and why he had been chosen instead of someone else.

Darren picked up the issue of The Washington Post that had materialized between the two tall stacks of publications on his desk and looked at the front page.  The top headline was printed in unusually large letters that read
                         

STRYKER WINS

Immediately below the headline was a large color photograph of the extremely handsome face of a rugged 35-year-old man with jet-black hair; a thick, well-trimmed mustache; and piercing blue eyes.  He had the toothy grin of a predator closing in for the kill.  Darren noticed that the price of the newspaper was very low; but what really caught his attention was the publication date, which was 25 years into the future.  

Then he read the news article below the large color photograph.  A charismatic politician named Jason Stryker, who was neither a Democrat nor a Republican, had just been elected President of the United States, the youngest man ever in the history of this country.  Darren was stunned.  Could this future President be my son’s best friend at the age of 35?


Last edited by Earl on Wed Apr 08, 2015 8:39 pm; edited 5 times in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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Re: Earl's novella in progress

Post by Earl on Thu Jan 01, 2015 4:04 am

While paging through the first section of this newspaper from the future, he found an article entitled “Former high-school coach is Stryker’s childhood mentor.”  He gazed in amazement at a photograph of himself that accompanied the article. The photograph had been taken at a Stryker campaign rally.  Darren, who was then in his mid-sixties, still had a powerful physique.  Hey, I’ll still look great!  

He was a man who usually kept a tight reign on his emotions; but when he had finished reading the article, his eyes were glistening with tears of joy. Darren had just found the real purpose of his life.  I’m going to mentor the boy who will grow up to save America!

Then he read an article on the next page that was entitled “Stryker’s father says his son is a fascist.”  This article was also accompanied by a photograph.  The professor who was the subject of the article had a worried look on his face.  He had the look of a loving father who was worried about his destructive son.

Darren laughed out loud and grinned with delight.  


Last edited by Earl on Wed Mar 11, 2015 12:37 am; edited 1 time in total

_________________
"You beat a woman and drag her down a flight of stairs, pulling her hair out by the roots? You're the fourth guy taken in the NFL draft. You kill people while driving drunk? That guy's welcome. Players caught in hotel rooms with illegal drugs and prostitutes? We know they're welcome. Players accused of rape and pay the woman to go away? You lie to police, trying to cover up a murder? We're comfortable with that.  You love another man? Well, now you've gone too far!" -- Dale Hansen, Dallas sports anchor for ABC local affiliate WFAA
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