Read Love Story: In The Web of Life Online

Authors: Ken Renshaw

Tags: #love story, #esp, #perception, #remote viewing, #psychic phenomena, #spacetime, #psychic abilities, #flying story, #relativity theory, #sailplanes, #psychic romance

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BOOK: Love Story: In The Web of Life
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She grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet, and
began towing me up the path to the visitors’ center. We went to the
car, retrieved the cooler and Tina's wicker picnic basket, and went
to a picnic bench in the shade of a Cottonwood tree.

"Isn't this great! Look at the view! Feel that
gentle breeze! Smell the sage!" gushed Tina as she unpacked her
wicker basket. She spread a red and white checkered tablecloth on
the table, spread two blue plastic plates and silverware, produced
two crystal flutes, which she filled with bottled water from the
cooler, and, as a final touch, placed a cut crystal vase in the
center. She produced a cluster of daisies from a bag in the cooler
and said, "Don't worry Mr. Lawyer, I didn't pick these in the park.
I picked these in the courtyard behind your mobile
home."

She then produced a bunch of grapes, some
cheese and crackers, and sandwiches, as she smiled
broadly.

"I was expecting a bag lunch," I
said

"Not for a beautiful setting like this," she
replied.

I was struck by how beautiful she looked, even
with little makeup, glowing with some inner exuberance. I seemed to
see a yellow golden glow around her face, and feel a soft,
beautiful vibration while I looked at her. I also felt a strange
energy on my chest, right above my heart.

We ate without saying much. She was taking in
the view and the day, and I was watching her.

After a while, I volunteered, "I had another
visit from Uriel today."

Her beautiful pale–blue eyes grew wide, she
smiled with an expression of delight, and said, "What did he
say?"

"He wants to be my client in some strange alien
sort of way. He says my reward will be learning something valuable
and having dreams-come-true." I said.

"Dreams-come-true is not all that bad," She
said as she seemed to blush a little bit. "What dreams do you
have?"

"I have to admit I don't have a big list now."
I replied. "Everything seems good. Oh, win this big patent case I
have been working on for a year and work the way up the letterhead
of the firm. I have still to make that ultimate soaring flight.
That kind of stuff. How about you?"

She looked a little embarrassed or maybe
disappointed and said, "I love to teach. That is my dream. Beverly
Hills is a good, safe school."

"Safe?" I asked.

"In many schools in LA, women teachers are at
risk. The only problem I have ever had was with a husky rich kid
from a Middle Eastern country, where his family was the ruling
class and don't think much of women's rights. He accosted me in a
stairwell, before another teacher came along and broke up what the
kid called a 'party.' I am more careful now, but anyway, that was
three years ago, not the sort of thing that happens at that
school."

"I do love teaching. Also, I like to explore
many new ideas, learn the secrets of life. There is a spiritual
thing there. Maybe, there is a vine covered cottage with a picket
fence and a golden retriever out there somewhere."

I silently observed that neither one of us
mentioned anything about a relationship.

"I'm not too sure how a spiritual entity for a
client fits in all that," I said. "I'm not ready to take that up
with a Senior Partner yet."

She seemed to sense my sudden shift in mood and
said, "I saw an Antelope Jack Rabbit today. They're bigger than a
regular Jack Rabbit and have giant ears."

She looked at me inquisitively and said, "You
want to talk about your Uriel friend?"

"I am a little shaken by the experience," I
replied. "It doesn't seem as if I am hallucinating. It seems too
real to be a dream. There is no logical or scientific explanation
for it. Do you have any explanation for it?"

She replied, "I have a metaphysical bent. You
must suspect with my meditating. I have avoided talking about it
because the subject seems to upset you, and I really enjoy being
with you. But, I have been to channeling sessions and have a
friend, Elise, who is doing a dissertation on the study of people
who channel. Your contact with Uriel seems to be some kind of
channeling, maybe you are the channel."

"I guess I'm not ready for any of this yet,
I'll have to find out about this later," I replied with kind of a
stiff tone.

"I thought so," she said looking away. "When
you are ready...I know some people."

"Thanks," I said glancing at my watch. I
noticed she had lost that beautiful glow.

After a long and somewhat awkward silence she
said, "Maybe we could get back early. I really could use some more
time to prepare for next weeks teaching. Tomorrow is another school
day," she said in a sort of stiff tone of voice.

We finished our lunch, without much
conversation, loaded the car a drove to LA. She slept most of the
way.

 

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

Chapter
Two

BEING A
LAWYER

 

Monday traffic was normal on Santa Monica
Boulevard, typical of LA, everyone hectically driving above the
speed limit of 45 with only a few car lengths between them, while
conducting important business on cell phones. I wanted silence this
morning.

I turned into the driveway of the Century City
building, drove down two floors to my parking spot, took the
elevator to the lobby, and joined the rush into the elevators to
the upper floors. At my floor, I exited the elevator and walked
down the hall to our office door. The spacious lobby had a modern
feel, with large black leather and chrome chairs, large tan ceramic
planters with well-tended plants, and a large mahogany faced
counter, behind which sat Carolyn, a blond who wore makeup like a
professional model, and today, a navy blue business suit and a
crimson scarf tied loosely around her neck.

"Good morning Mr. Willard!" said Carolyn
cheerfully as she covertly buzzed my secretary's phone to warn of
my arrival and gave me her "your the most interesting person...and
I'm available" smile.

"Good morning!" I replied as I walked past her
down the hall to my office. The mahogany–walled suite had two
offices, in front of which the secretary, Zaza, sat at a chrome and
ebony desk. Her desk, as usual, was clear except for a wireless
keyboard and mouse, and display, and the single pile of papers she
was typing from. She wore an almost invisible telephone
headset.

Zaza Green, whose real name was Zahavia, is in
her late forties, plump in a post-menopausal way, with grey hair in
a perm style that she was probably married in. Her skin is sallow
and wrinkled as it would be for a formerly pack-a-day smoker who
had almost quit. Her blouse exposed some of her abundant cleavage
of the type I really don't want to see. Her manner ran from
businesslike to covertly hostile, and I usually got the latter. She
wouldn't have been my choice as a secretary, but she came with the
office. Someone had informed me she had earned a special "in" with
one of the partners a long time ago.

"Good morning," she said in two descending
tones. "How was your weekend in the desert? Did Flopsy go with
you?"

"Tina Quail," I corrected.

"Flopsy, Popsy or Cotton Tail, I can't keep
your desert rabbits straight," replied Zaza. "Are flowers in
order?"

I thought for a second and replied, "Yes that
would be a good idea. Send her a bouquet of daisies or something
cheerful like that. On the card say, 'for a delightful
picnic.'"

Zaza replied with slight scorn, "Popsy usually
got roses. I have Tina's address."

I went into my office, and started going
through my email. After a while, Zaza buzzed my phone, and said,
"George Downey has arrived and is in the conference
room."

"OK," I replied.

I was grateful that scheduled visitors were
charmed by Carolyn and then shown to the conference room. I didn't
like Zaza representing me.

George is one of the technical experts we often
use in our patent trials. He has two PhDs that I know of and is an
expert on electromagnetic devices. Today he was, as usual, dressed
as a scientist would be expected to, with a tweed sport coat that
he wore in all seasons, and did not quite match his slacks, with
leather patches sewn on the elbows, and a plastic pocket protector
with several pens in the inside pocket. He was tan with balding
grey hair and intense blue eyes, and today, as usual, he looked
very serious.

We discussed some of the technical issues in
the patent case I was working on, and talked about how we could
present the information in lay terms in a trial. As he was getting
ready to leave, we were chatting about cell phones and where they
worked and where they didn't, when I thought I felt some sort of
vibration from him.

I started to think about Tina and how I seemed
to sense her vibrations. I said to George, "Sometimes I feel
vibrations from people. Do you have any kind of idea what it might
be?"

George looked incredulous, and I knew that I
had just said something that was outside his scientific belief
system. I got the same reaction that I would have if I said that I
had been talking to a Mason jar.

George said, "There is nothing in
electromagnetic theory that would explain that."

I thought I observed that his vibration had
dropped.

"What theory is that?" I asked.

George grew stiff and said, "Anything like that
is against the laws of Physics as expressed by Maxwell's
equations."

"Maxwell?" I inquired.

"He was a nineteenth century mathematician who
wrote the equations about how all electromagnetic waves and even
light behave. For the cell phones we were talking about, Maxwell’s
equations say that as you get farther from a cell tower, the
signal, or number of bars you get goes down exponentially. If you
are one mile from a cell tower and you move to two miles, the
signal level drops by a factor of eight. If you move from one mile
to three miles, the signal drops by a factor of
twenty-eight.

"The human nervous system generates very low
frequency signals, which can be detected with electrodes when
thousands of cells, such as heart cells, fire in synchronism. The
signal levels are so low they can't be radiated from the body with
any strength that is detectable by even the most sensitive
electronic instrument. I am not a physiologist, but I am certain
that no antennas or sensitive receivers have been dissected from
bodies. Although two human bodies might be jammed together there
could not be enough electrical energy transmitted to be
observable," George lectured.

I quickly thought of Tina, bodies jammed
together, and then Uriel. It was obvious George was getting upset
so I tried to change the subject by saying, "How difficult would it
be to learn about...?" I felt a kind of ragged feeling vibration
coming from George.

George interrupted and said, "That's why all
that crazy stuff about ESP is pure ignorance, superstition, or the
tricks of charlatans. It is all against the laws of physics. It
doesn't happen except for people with limited critical thinking
skills and a gullible imagination."

I could see that George would make a great
witness in a trial on this subject.

"Thanks, George," I said, steering him toward
the door. His eyes were beady, and it didn't look as though he knew
where he was. I walked him out to Carolyn to make sure he got his
parking ticket validated. Carolyn did her shy act with her eyes
lowered and chin down and started chatting and attracted his
attention. He seemed to be coming back to normal so I said goodbye,
shook his hand, and went back to my office.

I regretted that I had brought the subject of
vibrations up with George. He got very upset. I'm sure he thinks
less of me for broaching a metaphysical subject. Tina must be a bad
influence on me. I am starting to talk like her.

I spent the rest of the morning working on my
case.

After lunch, Zaza buzzed me and said, "Mr.
Bracken want to see you."

"Right now?" I asked.

"'Immediately' was what they said," replied
Zaza with her sarcastic tone.

When I arrived at Phil Bracken's office his
secretary, Patty, gave me a look that said something wonderful has
happened. I walked into Phil's office, and he met me with a big
smile and left his chair to give be an enthusiastic
handshake.

"Congratulations! They settled! Have a seat,"
he said gesturing to a chair. "I guess after they saw your witness
list and witness backgrounds they caved. They met with Paul in our
Washington office and offered a settlement. Paul talked it over
with his friend Robert Sampson, the CEO at Genstem and he said he
would accept their offer. We won! Here is their offer."

He pushed a copy of the email across the desk
to me. As I read it, I was surprised. It was more than I had
expected.

"So, we don't have to trial." I said somewhat
in a state of shock, feeling a letdown from having a whole year's
work evaporate.

"Don't worry," Phil said. "Paul and the
Washington office will take it from here. Why don't you take a few
days off. You like to spend time in the desert this time of year.
If they need anything, we can call you there. Have Zaza keep Patty
informed of where to contact you." He got up and shook my hand
again and said, "Good work! Congratulations! We will talk more when
I get back. I have to leave for Detroit in a couple of
minutes."

BOOK: Love Story: In The Web of Life
7.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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