The Arcturus Man (25 page)

It was a wonderful day, but was it a vainglorious day? Her strong Scandinavian
Lutheran upbringing made her feel guilty about wasting most of the day—all those idle
hours. The devil makes use of idle hands. That’s what her grandmother used to say. She
didn’t really believe that but it was part of how she was raised and she could never shrug
it off entirely.
That is probably why Jenny enjoyed listening to the
Prairie Home Companion
on the radio every Sunday.
It made her feel normal and allowed her to laugh at
herself. Of course the Lutheran bachelor farmers were Norwegian—but that was alright.
That’s almost like being Swedish. Close enough!
Jared never went to Church. She
missed Church. The radio was a poor substitute, but it had to do.

She was wearing a shear white baby doll peignoir that Jared gave her when they
made up in her apartment Saturday night. The peignoir was very expensive and very seethrough.
She felt more naked than if she was wearing nothing at all. She would have
been especially mortified if the housekeeper saw her like this. Anyway, Jared seemed to
really like it. It was harmless and she decided early in their relationship to tolerate innocent things that made him happy.
It did, however, make her feel a little sexy and that
wasn’t to be taken lightly by any good Lutheran girl.

As importantly—especially since their last big fight—and maybe because the
make-up sex was stupendous—she was finally beginning to lose her inhibitions and selfdoubt. Jared could take the credit for a lot of that. At last she thought she looked pretty
good in the peignoir and she was sort of proud of her figure. These things came easily for
Krissy, but not for Jenny. She would have never thought that way before. She had always
seen herself as a geek but Jared had convinced her that she was really beautiful, and more
importantly, desirable. She was beginning to believe it. She had never been a girly girl
before. Now that she might be one, it was growing on her. Suddenly, feminine clothing
appealed to her.
She wasn’t ready to throw out her sweat pants and Patriots jersey, but
the peignoir stays.

Jenny walked to the kitchen. She could smell that Jared was making coffee.
She
walked in. Sure enough, he was. Thank goodness it wasn’t Marie.
She walked back out to the porch and went over to one of the large white plantation rattan rocking chairs and sat down. It was a beautiful day. It was high time for Jared
to serve her for once. She would sit here until he figured that out.
Jared came bounding out of the house. The screen door slammed behind him. He
was carrying two gigantic cups of coffee.
Jared heard his cell phone ring, but the sound was muted. Jenny was sitting on it.
It was wedged behind her seat cushion. She inched up so he could get it.
“Yes, Hamid.”
Jenny was listening intently.
“Jared, I have packet of patent documents for you to sign. A messenger will bring
them out to the island,” said Hamid.
“This is Sunday Hamid. Have them delivered tomorrow,” said Jared.
“Of course.” Hamid hung up.
“You don’t work on the Lord’s day?” asked Jenny.
“I don’t work on my day off,” he said. “What do you want to do today?”
“Great coffee, honey. You’re like Mr. Starbuck,” said Jenny.
Jared finished his coffee quickly. Jenny was sipping it slowly.
“Come on! I’ll race you to the lake.” Jared picked up two beach towels from the
junk table and started for the door.
“Not happening!
“I am walking. You can run to your heart’s content.”
He grabbed her hand. “We can walk, Princess.”
Jenny showed a mouthful of perfect white teeth.
It was an exaggerated grin, demonstrating that she had triumphed. She knew that Jared was big on body language.
He held her hand and they strolled down to the small lake on the interior of the
island. Fresh water lakes were rare on these islands.
There was a small area at the lake that Jared had bottom raked to create a short
beach and a narrow area of water that had a sandy bottom. The rest of the shoreline was
rocky. Except where Jared had raked, the bottom of the lake was covered with decaying
leaves and sodden branches that fell into the lake with each storm from the overhanging
trees. There was a sturdy pier that went out twelve feet into the lake.
A swimming float
was anchored to the bottom about thirty feet further out.
Jenny and Jared sat down on the sandy beach.
The setting sun was in her eyes.
Jenny closed her eyes and moved her face to meet the warmth. Summer was hanging on.
“
Could anything ever be better than this
,” she thought.
She was so happy they
made up. Jared was so nice to her now. Maybe the big fight had hidden benefits.
The mosquitoes were still staying mainly in the shady areas. They would be out
soon but they weren’t here now.
She opened her eyes.
She saw colorful dragon flies
skimming across the water.
She could see ripples in the water where fish broke the surface going after small flies.
She saw a loon at the far side of the lake.
It was a female.
She had four chicks on her back. The male surfaced beside them. It was a family. Jenny
wanted a family.
This was their private paradise. It was all so breathtaking. Jenny and Jared didn’t
speak for a long time. She squeezed his hand and moved closer. For the moment she felt
deep affection and contentment. He didn’t respond. He backed away just slightly. Jared
didn’t like being smothered. She let go of his hand.
“
That’s alright
,” thought Jenny. She wondered if he sensed that.
She closed her eyes again and lay back on the sand. The peignoir rode up, but she
didn’t care. Looking elegant was not important right now. Jared lowered himself next to
her. He put is hand over hers. Their fingertips touched lightly…almost floating. The air
was calm. She could hear a distant wind moving the large pines on the far side of the island. It would be a while before it reached them.
“Look, the sun is about to set,” said Jenny. “The clouds are glowing. It looks like
a melting cream-sickle.
It is spectacular.
The lake is reflecting the orange sky…joining
together. The sun is harvesting diamonds from the water. It is so beautiful, Jared.”
“It’s dirt in the atmosphere that causes the coloration,” said Jared. Jenny ignored
him. He wasn’t going to kill the mood.
The air was still and the lake looked like a mirror.
A loon called.
It must a different loon than the ones she just saw. One is calling to find its mate.
Jared would say
that it was a male chasing away another male.
She liked her interpretation better. She
knew that her thoughts were rambling but she felt so good. No inhibitions.
“Jared…when you know what people are thinking, how does it come across to
you? I’m curious about that,” she said.
“I sense moods and thoughts.
People don’t conveniently think about the things
that I want to know about. Sometimes it’s images. Sometimes it’s words. It is not reading minds. It’s not like watching a movie. It is hit and miss and very disorganized.” he
said.
“What does it sound like or is it something you see? Describe what happens.”
Jared just sighed.
“Let me explain it this way. “Close your eyes.”
“No, Jared. No more games.”
“It’s not a game. I want you to understand.”
Jenny closed her eyes.
“Visualize the color red.”
“OK, I’m thinking about red,” said Jenny.
“Now tell me what you see. Describe the color red so I can understand what you
see.”
Jenny was silent for more than a minute. She couldn’t think of how to describe a
color. She was stumped.
“Red is red! I don’t know the right answer…what is the right answer?” she asked.
“That’s precisely the point.
Red is a word that describes something you sense.
You can’t compare it to anything else. There is no right answer. There is no way for you
to communicate to me exactly what you are seeing.
It could be different for both of us
but we would never be able to explain to the other how it’s different or to even know if it
is different.
We would both see something different but we would still use the same
word to identify it.”
“How is it that we all use the same word for the same color?” she asked.
“Let’s suppose I put a red apple on a rock and I bring ten strangers to the rock and
tell them that from now on, whenever they see that color, they must use the word, red. I
know you know that the eye’s photoreceptors include about 6 or 7 million rods that sense
color and that red has a very specific wavelength in the electromagnetic spectrum.
Nevertheless, we could postulate that each of the ten strangers translates the signal entirely
differently in their brains.
Suppose, for example, that one sees a color that you would
call green and another yellow and the rest red.
Once I name what they see, all ten of
them will use the word “red” each time they see that color. It will seem like they all see
exactly the same color,” said Jared.
“Interesting! I never thought of color that way,” she said.
“The reason I’m getting into this lengthy explanation is to find a way of showing
you how difficult it is for me to convey what the signals in my brain are when I sense
what someone is thinking about, feeling, or seeing,” said Jared.
“I think I understand,” said Jenny.
“Nothing in life is really simple. If anyone thinks something is simple, they have
made a mistake.
It isn’t just focusing on what people are feeling and thinking.
I sense
everything around me—all at once. Some of that can be learned by simply being aware.
You can do some of that too if you opened yourself up to it.”
“That’s the kind of B.S. that you hear people say who wear crystals on their
heads,” said Jenny.
“It’s not.
You’ve been sitting there for quite some time now.
Look at the sand
right before the water line. Do you see anything unusual?”
The sun was low. Jenny shaded her eyes with her hand.
Jenny saw something
sticking out of the sand. She got up and walked to it.
“Is this what you are talking about, Jared! This is really odd.
It feels warm, like
plastic.
It’s not a rock.
What do you suppose it is?”
It was a large brownish yellow
lump of some kind of substance. She rolled it around in her hand.
It was warm to the
touch. She ran her fingertips over it. It had no hard edges. It couldn’t be glass. Most of it
was heavily scratched, giving some parts a milky white look. It was most strange.
“It’s been there the whole time but you didn’t notice it until I said something.”
“Well, what is it?”
“That is a piece of raw amber. It came from the Baltic shore.
I found it on a
beach in Latvia near Jurmala.”
“You put it here?” She was puzzled.
“Yes!”
“Well…why?”
“It is a tradition my father taught me when I was a boy. When you come to a new
place, you have to bring a stone or some other object from the earth to tell the new land
‘this is where I came from’ so the land and water will know you,” said Jared.
“I can’t believe you did this Jared. You brought this all the way from the Baltic.
You are an atheist…sorry…an agnostic.
Are you telling me you believe in…”
She
couldn’t find the word. “…mysticism?”
“I did it out of respect for my mother and father, but especially for my ancestors
who did believe in spirits. My ancestors were animists, as were yours for that matter. In
Sweden, there is a stand of trees in Upsala that was believed to be sacred, especially the
oaks. Each tree was sacred. It was pantheism! I’m sure you’ve read John Toland in your
studies or perhaps Spinoza.
The sky, the land, the water, the trees…everything had spirits living in them.”
“I heard of Spinoza. You mean like Druids?” asked Jenny.
“Yes, like Druids,” he said.
“Do you believe in that stuff?”
“No, of course not. I do believe in cultural traditions, however,” said Jared.
“That is all mythology. It’s paganism,” she said.
“Tell me what the difference is?
Why is monotheism believable and a Pantheon
of gods are not? If it is all just a matter of blind, unquestioning faith, who has the right to
say that Jesus is the son of God but a belief in wood nymphs is insane and paganistic?
Faith is based on a belief that can’t be measured or tested. Faith requires no proof.”
“You have to take a leap of faith, Jared. You have to believe in something.
Is it
so wrong that I believe in God and Jesus with all my heart? How can that ever be a bad
thing—which is what you make it sound like,” she said.
“It’s not a bad thing
per se
, but you’d have to agree that the organized religions
can do great evil as well. Think about the crusades, or the Spanish Inquisitions, or the international terrorism we are experiencing today from people willing to kill people because they sincerely believe they are doing the will of their god. The death of three thousand or so people in the World Trade Center in 2001 was perpetrated by a large group of
people...a group of people at one time…who thought that by killing all of those people
they were instantly going to paradise.
You tell me. Is organized religion a good thing?”
asked Jared.
“I’ve heard those arguments thousands of times. Just like you demonstrated that
the color red can’t be explained, there aren’t any answers to your question. All I know is
that I believe in God and that I believe in Jesus and that I want to live a good decent life
because of my beliefs. I can’t be personally accountable for what other people do who
claim they are religious. I can only be responsible for myself.” said Jenny.
“That’s a strong and logical argument Jenny,” he said. “That was good. Each person must learn to cultivate their own garden.”
Jenny was thrilled.
You don’t win debates with Jared.
She didn’t win this one
either, but she held her own. She was very proud of herself. Jared was pleased too. Their
relationship had become too much like teacher and pupil. He never cared for that. Ginger
never acted like a pupil. He was pleased that Jenny had finally come around to standing
up for herself as well.
Jared had, for the moment, stopped analyzing. He listened and responded strictly
to Jenny. That was an accomplishment to savor.
“HI FOLKS. Can I ask you if you’re the owner?” asked a fisherman who walked
out of the tree line.
Jared jumped to his feet.
How was it possible that he hadn’t sensed the threat?
The man approaching them was dressed like a fisherman, but he was no fisherman. His
hands weren’t the hands of a fisherman.
The tackle he was carrying was fresh water
tackle that no one but a city boy who bought his stuff at Wal-Mart would carry for ocean
fishing. And, the man had an accent. It was barely noticeable, but it was there for certain.
It was a trace of a Hispanic accent.
“I would like permission to fish off the rocks on the shoreline.
There is a good
current that passes there that is full of fish,” said the pretender.
“What are you fishing for?” asked Jared.
“Spanish mackerel.
I’ve been taking Spanish mackerel for years in these waters
but I’ve never been able to keep my boat steady in that current so I thought it would save
me a lot of hard boat driving if I could sit on those rocks down there,” said the fisherman.
Jared was now convinced he was a liar. There was deception in his thoughts but
the story about the Spanish mackerel was the clincher. Despite that Jared had caught two
himself, those hauls had been a rare anomaly.
Spanish mackerel don’t come this far
north and certainly haven’t been here for years.
Whatever freaks of ocean conditions
brought them here recently, those conditions hadn’t existed for years.
“Sorry, the island is a wildlife preserve.
It wouldn’t do to have someone fishing
from it. Hope you don’t mind?” said Jared.
“That’s OK, I understand. I didn’t know that,” said the pretender.
He kept leering at Jenny. She had covered herself with her beach towel but Jared
noticed that the man had a camera with him. It had a large zoom lens. He probably photographed them both from cover.
“Another thing friend. We both have a thing about privacy. I need to take a look
at your camera,” said Jared.
The man dramatized his reaction by exaggerating his shock at the request.
He
was not a very good liar and he was worse at being an actor.
“You think I was taking pictures of your girl friend.
Is that what you think?” he
asked.
“You are not leaving with that camera,” said Jared.
The man started to turn around to walk away.