Chapter 9: Family
Dayton turned back to me and said, “Laurie's got a thing for you.” An impish smile accompanied that statement. “I don't really know what you mean,” I said, starting to feel a bit defensive. Dayton threw back his head laughing. I patiently waited for his wave of amusement to pass. “I talked to her earlier. She said you got a world of problems. She just wants you to be OK,” he told me. I was getting really sick of hearing this, for better and for worse.
“She told me about what y'all both went through on the way up here. The night at the motel...” He trailed off, and his tone became a bit more speculative. “Someone set up a car bomb in your vehicle. If that doctor hadn't contacted you, it would have been bad.” I shifted uncomfortably at the thought of ignoring the letter and taking Wayne's car. “I really owe him for that,” I added in an effort to sound grateful. Sometimes it's hard to be grateful when you really are just terrified.
Dayton switched topics again. He told me about his friend Jamal, who was sending information to Mercedes about some of the pictures in the book I brought. He told me that Jamal was a gifted PhD student who traveled across the country studying ancient languages. He seemed to think we had a lot in common. I heard that the entire camp was discussing the events circling the influx of new information. He also told me that more help might be on the way to halt the encroaching threat of Thomas Balthazar.
“That man, frightens me... He... is not of this world.” Dayton told me with an ominous tone. “He scares me senseless,” I acknowledged. “What do you plan to do when you see him Johnny,” He asked in a very careful and measured tone. “I plan on killing him.” I replied in a grimly. Truth be told, I didn't know how or if that would be possible. Dayton let out a very world-weary “hmm.” I think he knew more about people than I could ever hope to.
I felt a strong tingle on the back of my neck, like I was terrified of what I was planning or thinking. Dayton broke the tension again with talk about how he thought the food at the camp was fantastic. He went on a long diatribe about the proper way to cook eggs. He said something about how Karl got it “mostly right.” I didn't disagree, but my thoughts continued to try to pour into the negative. I watched the shimmering late morning sun on the lake paying particularly close attention to the intricate chromatic display of colors of the light. I thought Monica's tea was still working hard.
With that thought, Monica approached the two of us right on time. Her head was adorned with a multicolored assortment of wildflowers that morning. “Hey Monica.” Dayton warmly greeted her. “Hey you!” She replied, then seductively made kissy faces at him. He threw me a knowing wink, which seemed to radiate an incredible feeling of wellbeing from within me. I had a feeling these two were just meant for each other. Maybe that is that thing that people see that I always believed I couldn't.
Monica stood by us and perched herself on the railing. I could smell a faint waft of lavender and rosemary emanating from her. I was going to ask her about the tea that she gave me, but she spoke first. “Most of the camp is preparing for battle,” she said with a slight shiver. “We have found out some really interesting things from the book you brought us. It appears that only weapons forged by hand and blessed from the true Creator can harm the abominations.” A moment passed before she finished her thoughts.
“That would make guns useless in this fight. Still, the leadership insists on preparing for a big shootout.” She shook her shiny dyed blonde hair in dismay. “Sometimes, some men, have a romanticized ideas of what battle should be.” Monica rolled her eyes in a way that seemed too familiar to her. Could the idea of a bunch of liquored up men shooting things strike this hippy woman as vulgar? I asked myself as I doubted that this was her first time sharing this rhetoric. I made a “pew pew” sound and pointed my fingers in the air like fake guns. She grinned, and I swore I heard her voice in my mind say, “exactly!”
Dayton didn't seem surprised by this information, but I could tell it was still news to him. “I am sure reason will prevail,” he said in a soothing tone. She seemed to enjoy his concession to her viewpoint and rewarded him by sliding off the railing and onto his lap. I could see a faint trail of her body as she moved, and it forced me to blink several times to dispel the strange visualization. She plucked one of the wildflowers from her hair and placed it in his. I snickered at the sight of it.
“So, Johnny, I believe I also found some information on how to keep you safe in your dreams,” Monica said in a pleasant and hopeful tone. I wondered if it could be more amulets. “It is a completely different process than I am used to, so it might be a crap shoot.” Now I was kind of hoping that it was more amulets. Being a guinea pig in a dream experiment seemed like a risky situation. The words “crap shoot,” didn't settle well with me. “I believe that Dr. Felter's findings will stabilize the process,” she reassured me. “With Steven's translations,” Dayton added. “Of course,” I concluded.
We moved onto discussion about what was going on around the camp. Monica and Dayton filled me in. Everyone was on high alert based on the fact that Thomas was to arrive on Tuesday. People were watching the entrances and known pathways from the deer stands. Dayton told me that the “situation resembled a city under siege.” Still, people managed to make the best of it and held together in solidarity. I was told Laurie was helping around the camp, and that I would probably see her later in the afternoon. “Given that you are still struggling from your experience, and the lingering effects of such a high dose of tea...you should just take it easy for the day.”
I decided to earnestly take her advice. I followed the path upwards toward the rifle range. I figured I might catch Clarence and say hi. While walking, I ran into a couple people including Karl and Rick. Everyone seemed kind of distant and agitated. I could have cut the tension with a knife. One of the little paths led to a cabin that I had never checked out. Some strange force pulled me toward the cabin. It was significantly larger than the rest of them, with a large back porch and garden in front. I saw a small sign on a tree that led into the clearing where the house stood. The sign read: “David's Cabin.”
I approached the cabin with nervous energy due to the fact that I had no idea why I was even walking that way. David was standing by a window and talking on the phone. He started walking toward the back door leading to the elevated porch. I darted behind a clearing of trees and crouched behind a bush. I could hear him when the door opened, he appeared to be loudly yelling on the phone. I was certain that he hadn't spotted me, yet I remained frozen in place hidden in the bushes.
“We cannot afford to be caught unprepared,” he said in a tone that betrayed his normal charismatic facade. Momentary silence followed the last thing I could hear. “Even if that is the case, I can't let my people go without defending themselves. We need to keep the night guard up. Doubled even.” His voice cracked a bit with that last statement. I instinctively flattened myself further toward the ground. “I don't care what some PhD student said! When trouble comes, we shoot. That is just how we do things here.” David wiped some sweat off his head, then resumed listening to the unknown party on the other line.
At once David's demeanor changed from bitter determination to complete resignation. “You're right, my hands are tied.” Momentary pause. “Yeah. Bye.” He pulled the phone from his ear, cursed loudly into the sky, and then walked back into his cabin. I let out a long-held exhale, then slowly inched back from the bush. It almost took a complete minute to muster the courage to resume my crouch and stand back up. I walked back the small trail, kind of wishing I hadn't taken this detour in the first place.
I continued my trek up the trail and made my way to the rifle range. The last words that David said rang through my head numerous times. I could hear the sounds of rounds being fired as I approached the range, which at least meant that I wasn't going in the wrong direction. As I got closer to the range, I noticed the firing had stopped. The sounds of bullet fire were replaced by enthusiastic whooping. Almost maniacal in nature. I heard Ralph scream, “You certainly can shoot mother [expletive deleted]!” I heard Clarence reply, “No shit!” They continued to roar with testosterone fueled rapture. It suddenly turned me off about approaching.
I couldn't help but feel like they would pull me into their fervor, so I turned back down the trail and made my descent down the hill. It was a cold glass of water splashed on my face. It seemed like everywhere I went; insanity was following. Maybe Thomas wouldn't need to show up at all, and we would all just kill each other. The words “city under siege,” in the voice of Dayton, popped back up in my mind. The ominous scene was chased away by the sight of Laurie pacing up the trail. The tension eased immediately when I saw her.
She rushed toward me and wordlessly, we entered a tight embrace. Her hug was firm, almost bear-like. I met her energy with equal force. My vision blurred from the tea. Wait a sec. Those were tears cropping up in the corner of my eyes. Laurie made no sound, I couldn't see her face, but I knew that she shared those same tears. He remained locked in that embrace on the trail for minutes. By the time we unlocked our arms, both of our faces were soaked with tear stains. We both knew what was wrong, we, they, everyone was afraid.
Laurie managed to choke back her tears to say, “It's good to see you.” Our eyes locked. “You too,” I said in a barely audible croak. “Speak up,” She chided, and a half smile took her face. Her tear splattered face bolstered my resolve. We had greater things to fight for, and we had to become vigilant. Laurie and I walked down that hill, and I knew what we had to do. We had to survive. We had to live. It was only when we got to the lodge did, I even realize that our hands were locked together tightly.
Vicky approached us with a wide grin and gave us a thumbs up. Suddenly realizing that we were hand in hand, I withdrew my hand, and blood rushed to my head. In hindsight, I should have looked to see what Laurie's impression of that move was. Vicky gave Laurie a big hug and asked to excuse me while they talked. “Girl talk” or something. I shrugged and began my trek back to the lodge to get a better impression of the situation there.
I saw Dayton and Monica playing tether ball near the lake. Dayton was a good 7 inches taller than her, but he was lettering her win. What a goon! Show no mercy, no matter the opponent (I always say.) I waved to them, Dayton waved back, thus allowing Monica to get the final push to win the match. I felt like an accessory to chivalry-based poor sportsmanship. From there I wandered back into the lodge. I saw a man I wasn't too familiar playing ping pong against a half folded up table.
He was a tall man with long white and gray hair. He had a pointed chin, long hooked nose, and a pair of gold framed glasses that hung off them. He looked to be locked in fierce determination against an opponent he could never best. I felt the stark contrast between the sight of him and the sight of Dayton moments ago. I stood by and watched him as his pace of volleys increased in speed and the look of steely determination on his face increased. I waited until the ball bounced free before introducing myself. I had to wait for a while.
“Hi there,” I said to the man. The glasses slightly slid down the nose as he tilted his head down to get a closer look at me. “Hey-o,” he answered in a chipper but somewhat winded voice. “I am Johnny,” I introduced myself in my most cordial tone. “I know. We met before.” A wave of embarrassment hit my face. “It's OK. I am Don. Don Camden.” He said in a way that let me know it was a forgivable trespass. “I am guessing you are just a bit overwhelmed,” He empathically offered. I nodded. “You a shut in?” He asked rhetorically. “I was too. I know what it is like.” I offered to open up the table and play some ping pong with him. We did, we talked, and the hours flew by. Don told me that he used to hide out in the rural areas of New York. He confessed that his wife of 17 years left him, and that he just stopped caring. He just stopped going out, and David saved him from himself. This reassured me about our leader. A bit.
The dinner wasn't anything special, but it was good to sit with Clarence and Laurie. Monica and Dayton joined our table, and I felt we made a formidable little team. Clarence was a bit more boisterous than I remember him being. I think shooting off rounds all morning with Ralph amped him up considerably. Dayton enjoyed talking to him, while Monica was discreetly nuzzling against his side. Laurie was telling me about Vicky. “I heard that she is staying with David, in his cabin,” she said. I made a mental note to talk to Vicky when I got the chance.
Almost as soon as that thought came into my head. David approached me and whispered into my right ear, “I need you to do a walk around the camp with Ralph tonight.” I was surprised by the request but before I could think about asking about it further, David had bounded off to talk to someone else. Ralph, who was sitting with his wife, waved his hand to get my attention. After finishing up some rice, beans, and conjecture with Laurie about thermodynamics, I set out to talk to Ralph.
He patted the adjacent seat next to him, and I sat there promptly thereafter. “Looks like we are teamed up for tonight's watch. I just want you to observe, listen, and get the hang of how we do things here.” He announced between bites of a chicken leg. “Sounds good,” I replied. Dana finished a gulp of water and told Ralph, “Go easy on him Hun.” I shuddered at whatever connotations accompanied that statement. Ralph let out a hearty guffaw and said, “Of course!” The shudder resumed, while he shot me a disarming smile.
Ralph told me that I would meet him after the nightly bonfire for further instructions. I noticed that Laurie had left the table. Monica, Dayton, and Clarence were talking and laughing. I exited the kitchen and poked around the lodge. I saw Don resuming his one-man ping pong playing. When I looked around the interior of the lodge, I saw Laurie and Vicky talking. Vicky looked extremely distressed. Laurie was trying to comfort her, but I couldn't make out what they were discussing. I decided to make myself scarce and walked back onto the porch.
I walked the perimeter of the porch and saw Mercedes studying one of those Mead composition books with a look of complete consternation on her face. “Hi Mercedes,” I said with a tone of friendliness, and the intention of gathering some information. It took her a few seconds for her to look up from her book. “Hi...uh, Jimmy?” She finally acknowledged. “It's Johnny, and I was hoping to pick your brain for a second about what you discovered.” She let out a slight exasperated sigh and set the book down. “What did you want to know?” She asked with her irritation dissipating. “Maybe just a summary.” I replied, feeling a bit silly I didn't approach such a committed academic a bit more prepared.
She focused her light brown eyes on me with great intensity, trying to read the seriousness of my interest. She must have known I wasn't making small talk. “The primary argument offered by Dr. Higgins is that Gate Travel has negative side effects to people's mental health, while working in close proximity to the machines.” Old news to me. “He also discovered that over time, the will and desires of those affected would steadily begin to change from normal to aberrant. Furthermore, those altered wills were all singular in their purpose and obsession. Higgins concluded that those individuals who were affected were deeply concerned with sealing the gates. They also were certain that the world was doomed, and because of that sense of doom, entitled them to act recklessly.” Mercedes was keenly aware that I had heard all of this before.
In order to avoid further overlap, I shared what I knew. I informed her of the hospitalized research scientists, the nature of Thomas Balthazar, and the information given to me by “future Clarence.” She listened very carefully, while scribbling notes down. She told me some more of her findings shortly thereafter. “According to this book, the condition caused by the yellow eyes is a parasite that attacks the mind. It couldn't be detected by the strongest electron microscopes because it could not be viewed in the normal wavelengths of light. Higgins categorized as a creature composed of what was like 'radiation,' and it struck people the same way cancer does. It doesn't strike the psychical portions of the brain, so no operation or procedure could cure the affected areas.” I tried to swallow the information given to me.
Her mood improved by presenting me with novel information. “What do the symbols have to do with anything?” I asked, hoping for more clues. “It turns out that the human mind has always been susceptible to these forces. It explains why people do insane things, scream about the end of the world, or have chronic mental conditions.” But the symbols? She noticed my failure to follow where she was going. “The symbols are just an ancient way of helping people cope. To understand that there are forces always trying to press their way into your mind. To push you to do things that are harmful.” I think I wanted to get a better answer than that. I scratched my chin and queried, “what role do gates even play in such a thing?”
“Excellent question Johnny, and the answer isn't a simple one. The best I can figure is that the gates amplify the problem. This stuff is way out of my depth, and there is no other relevant material in this field to compare it to.” I didn't want to press the issue too far. “Do you think there is anything relevant to a means to stopping such parasites?” Hopefulness replaced the feeling of intellectual inadequacy on her face. “My hopes are tied to the petroglyphs that Jamal has been translating. According to his translation, certain indigenous tribes in the Southwestern portion of the United States and Mexico have lived for millennia without any kind of documented insanity. They led harmonious lives. Albeit not perfect or advanced by our standards, but completely without the mental illness that is commonplace in our society.”
If only the Surgeon General could get his hands on this info, maybe America wouldn't be such a madhouse. Unfortunately, I suspected there were things fundamentally wrong with the way we conduct our daily lives that were too impractical to fix. I guess progress breeds insanity. Mercedes disrupted my morose thought train. “I just need some more information from Jamal for specific instructions on what to do.” I gulped down my fear and asked, “What if we have no fix for this problem?” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and replied, “Then things will continue to get worse.” Not reassuring at all.
I didn't notice Laurie coming up from behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when she tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey. Sorry about earlier, I was just busy talking to Vicky.” I gestured that it wasn't a problem. “Do you want to take a walk with me?” She asked politely, but with a hint of distress. “Sure thing. Thanks Mercedes, I'll talk to you soon.” Mercedes nodded her head and immediately stuck it back in her notes. I followed Laurie to the trails that led around camp and past the cabins.
Once we were out of earshot with anyone in the camp, Laurie explained the reason for pulling me aside. “Vicky is really scared about the way David has been acting. He has been acting really on edge, like he is expecting the camp to be overrun at any second.” I couldn't really blame the guy. “I think Thomas is trying to push us to the limit before he shows up,” I offered. She didn't really seem surprised, but it did nothing to assuage her fears. She bent over and picked up some stray kindling that blocked the trail and tossed it into the woods. She abruptly stopped and turned to me. “Do you think David can be trusted? I have never seen him like this.” I cringed at her doubts, and solemnly said, “I hope so.”
“Vicky says that David is pressing her for something. She won't say what. Do you think you can talk to her?” I couldn't figure out how I might get information from her where Laurie had failed. “I can try.” Laurie and I passed a large rock down the trail, and I noticed a pair of squirrels staring at us. I stopped and looked back. Laurie noticed them too and we stood staring at the squirrels looking back at us. Another pair appeared and climbed up a nearby large rock. And another, and another. There was quickly becoming a small crowd of squirrels gathering on the rock. The rock filled up. Laurie turned, “Johnny, I think we should go.”
I could hear her words but could do nothing but remain transfixed by the mob of rodents congregating in front of us. The massive boulder was filled with squirrels, and they began to form a massive cluster on the ground all around it. I noticed that they were closing in. My heart almost skipped a beat when they began chittering in unison. Laurie tugged on my arm with great urgency. The first squirrel I saw on the rock tiled its head to the side like a predator taunting its prey. Its eyes began to take on the eerie shade of yellow, while exposing its large front teeth. I started to accept Laurie's tug, and we darted down the trail.
As we ran, I could see in my periphery that there were two walls of squirrels standing on their hind legs running parallel to the trail. All making high pitch chirping sounds that caused the base of my neck to ripple with fear. Laurie and I bolted down the trail hand in hand. We came to the clearing where the trail entered the open space of the campground. Clarence was standing at the trail entrance with a perplexed look on his face. “What is wrong?” He asked out of a very genuine concern. “I... look! There is...” I turned back to see a horde of maniacal squirrels, and there was nothing. It was as if the scene we left behind simply vanished.
“Laurie? Did you...” She cut me off and said, “It was nothing Clarence, we just thought we stepped on a hornet's nest. Nothing to worry about.” Clarence nodded his head, clearly unconvinced, but unwilling to push his concerns. “It is time we had a talk,” Clarence announced with a grim tone. He drew a deep inhale through his nostrils and exhaled sharply. Laurie and I agreed, and we set out to find a private place to sit. One that wasn't potentially filled with a ravenous pack of demonic squirrels.
We found a spot near an arts and crafts lodge overlooking the lake. I hadn't been down this trail, and the view was spectacular. We meandered around the building. I took a peek inside and saw all sorts of beautifully crafted dream catchers, oil paintings, and all manner of assorted crafts suspended around the building. It actually sparked a creative side of me. Something about this place told me that my creative side would flourish, unlike the institution, where the idea of art was mechanized and set as a task to keep the crazies occupied.
There was a large log bench overlooking the lake that we all sat in. Clarence took a moment to get settled while a brief lake breeze washed over us. His voice took on a cryptic tone as he announced, “I don't think that Thomas is coming Tuesday, or at least this Tuesday. I can tell he has a strategy that involves spreading fear. He wants the camp on edge and divided.” Laurie sighed, and I nodded my head in dismay. “I regret that I said anything, when I woke up from that dream,” I said full of lament.
“I am glad that you did Johnny,” Clarence reassured me. I looked up hopefully, in an effort to not feel responsible for all the buzzing around camp. “I've heard that Ralph is taking you on the night patrol. I think you should be careful with him Johnny. He is funny and charismatic, but he is dangerous.” Clarence let his warning hang in the air for a few moments. Laurie wore an expression of quiet despair. She didn't want to think of all her childhood mentors as victims of psychological warfare, under duress, and on the verge of self destruction. Clarence put a comforting hand on her shoulder and calmly spoke. “This will be over soon enough, and I am sure it will work out.” I wish I shared that man's confidence.
Clarence leaned in closer to me and said, “just watch Ralph, and remember not to lose yourself Johnny. Battle and shootouts aren't glamorous. They are just destructive.” A flash of the memory from earlier that day of their hooting and shooting crept up into my mind. “I know Clarence, and maybe it'll be a nice break from the usual nightmares.” He offered a weak smile. With that, we settled down about such serious topics and made our way to the bonfire area. The gather was slow, somber, and unspoken tension ruled the night air.
I would have thought that David would try to comfort the group, but he insisted on maintaining a firm distance from the mood going around the camp. After the usual festivities, Ralph beckoned for me to follow him. There was a chilling energy produced by him. I could tell by the bags under his eyes and the veiled irritation that he was carrying, that he was under serious stress. More than likely he was suffering from sleep deprivation from increased night patrols. It was a stark contrast to the Ralph that I spent helping set up deer stands with. I was not looking forward to working alongside him tonight.
“Don't say anything while we do our rounds, unless it is imperative to our safety. Just follow along, I'll show you the route, and hopefully we can get a replacement by 3AM.” I silently groaned at that time, as I was just getting comfortable with a more reasonable sleep schedule than I have had in a long time. He turned a flashlight over to me and saw that his orders were understood. He huffed deeply and led me up the trail leading to the outskirts of the camp and some of the more secluded areas within the campground.
I wasn't sure if I should have tried to conceal the sounds of my footsteps. Part of me felt the strong urge to take on a ninja persona. The sounds of the gravel and stones bouncing off my footsteps immediately made me feel like a failure at such an attempt. Ralph seemed a bit more adept at weighting his steps, but the presence of the flashlight beam might indicate that it was a bit early for stealth. We made our way to the first deer stand that we constructed. He pulled a box out of the brush and it contained one of the rifles. He looked at me to confirm that I understood that the weapons were hiding near the stands for easy access.
He spent about 30 minutes up on the perch scanning the horizon periodically. I waited on the ground trying to gain an understanding of his tactics while observing him. He focused most of his attention to the road that leads into the camp where flood lights on poles served as street lights. There must have been other paths that he knew about, because he would periodically rotate about 45 degrees in each direction. I couldn't tell if the task was tedious or tense by watching him. More than likely, both.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Ralph descended from the deer stand and returned the rifle to the box motioned for me to follow him down to another deer stand. We walked down one winding trail into another. Along the way, Rick was making his way opposite of us. The two men exchanged wordless nods and we made our way up a snaking trail that led uphill. I followed Ralph to the next deer stand and it was pretty much more of the same stuff. I had to stifle any urge to make conversation, which really added to the tension. It was extremely difficult because the debate between warm- or cold-blooded dinosaurs was raging in my mind with fervent intensity.
I was growing extremely weary by the time we made our way to the third deer stand. Ralph offered me a sip of his miniature energy drink shot concoction, but I declined. I figured if I waited this out, I could at least pass right out when we finished. The last thing that I wanted was to lay in bed after we finished, wishing I could sleep. In order to break up some of the monotony, Ralph would point out in the directions he was looking to give me an idea of where I should focus my attention, should I be in his position. I hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Luckily, around 2:30 AM (according to Ralph's Timex,) someone was able to man the next shift. I felt pretty irritated with how I spent my night. I wasn't sure if I wanted something more eventful or if I became attached to learning things about the dream world. We made our way back to the cabins, did a quick scan of the area, before he saw me off to sleep. I wasn't sure if I would need any kind of preparation for the dream world. I didn't. I slept in dreamless state, and without incident late into the morning.
The odd tension did not decrease in the morning when I awoke, in fact, the people I saw as I walked through the camp to the kitchen seemed even more on edge. I peered into the lodge and saw Don trying, with only limited success, to maintain a volley against a half folded ping pong table. Karl left a plate of breakfast out for me and pointed to it without saying a word. It was becoming customary that I would be the last one to get breakfast. Clarence was waiting in the kitchen for me. He looked up at me expectantly when I grabbed my plate. I took a seat next to him when I sat down to eat.
He didn't have any food in front of him, and he was clearly waiting there to talk to me. “You look tired,” he casually observed. I shrugged helplessly. He cleared his throat and waited for direct eye contact before speaking again. “We had someone arrive at the camp earlier this morning. I think you might recognize the name.” He let his words hang out in suspense. Clarence was getting a small thrill out dramatic build up. I waited patiently for him to continue. “It is Harold Felter.” My eyes widened in surprise.
I nearly choked on the ham that I was chewing on when he told me this. “There is a huge buzz around camp about his arrival. He has been spending most of his time with David, Mercedes, and Laurie.” A momentary wave of confusion passed through me. “What does he want with Laurie,” I asked with more of a demanding tone in my voice than I intended. Clarence folded his hands together, presenting himself as wizened when he responded, “I think you better ask him.” Was that a brief smirk on his face that I saw?
I thanked Clarence for notifying me of the recent developments. I exited the kitchen and walked into the lodge not quite certain where to find Dr. Felter. I would have asked Clarence, but I felt that strange feeling of wanting the conversation to end the way it did. Luck was on my side as I saw a new face sitting on a bench with Laurie talking. He looked to be an aging man, wearing thick framed glasses, with neatly combed white hair. He was man who took great care to maintain his appearance. Intellectually dominating, with a gentle presence.
He looked away from Laurie for a moment and waved to me. I felt instinctively on the defensive for some reason. I approached the two of them timidly. The man stood up and introduced himself, “Hello Johnathan. My name is Doctor Harold Felter.” As I approached, I could recognize him from some of the photographs I saw in his cabin after our escape from the institution (and in several dreams.) “I see you have become close friends with my daughter.”
