The Music of the Mind

Thank you everyone for your kind words and encouragement. Here is the next installment in this series. A new element is introduced at the end of this chapter that will carry through most of the story going forward. As always, feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. Thanks to my editor LadyCibelle once again for her help. S.T.

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Chapter 8: Harmony in the notes

I woke suddenly, but not as if startled by something. It was like one of those rare occasions where you simply feel it is time to wake. I sat up in my warm bed, and looked at the golden sunlight streaming through the windows.

"Looks like I will be opening a little late this morning." I thought. I was sure the owner Bill would understand given my evening. I glanced at the clock, and it read 6:30. "What the hell?" I thought

I felt completely rested, there was no way I only got 4 hours sleep. Then the events of the previous night began to return to me. The genies words, and the whole terrible catastrophic night at the club, Meg, the dead man, and the police all swimming in my mind as memory flooded back into my waking brain.

I stumbled to the kitchen to start some coffee, and a deep ache built in my chest. The dead man, I had killed that man. I had let the anger take hold of me and I had filled him with so much pain he had killed himself.

I sat at the kitchen table as the kettle rumbled on the stove, and tried to clear my mind. I had begun to think the gift was something I could handle, that I could really help people with it. When I went charging through that club I only wanted to help, but when that man laughed at Meg's pain, I lost all control. I had used the gift in a way I had sworn I wouldn't. I had used it to hurt, to punish, maybe even to kill.

I rose to take the kettle off the stove as it whistled. I shuffled around looking for coffee in the pantry. It was bare. Hell I had been buying my morning coffee at the grind for over a year of course I didn't have any coffee in the house. Maybe I would just go back to bed. I figured the genie had given up on our little talk anyway.

Then a note rang in my head, a single thought. It startled me in a way I can't begin to explain since it was not in the midst of the music of a person. It was as though it had been plucked out of someone by itself, and placed in my mind. It was Meg's, and this one thought was that she wanted to know who I was. Then it was gone. I stood panting and frightened. I could feel it then, in my mind, the genie. Its voice rung through me again in its awful power.

"Go, she is the one you need to talk to."

"What if I don't want to talk to her?" I shouted to the empty kitchen. But both the room and my mind were now quiet.

It took me about a half hour to get cleaned up and dressed. I took my time I admit, I was afraid to see that girl, afraid to find out what was going on in her mind. Afraid of what damage I had caused.

The Drive over to Boulder Community hospital was short, and in moments I found myself at the information desk asking for her room. I rode the elevator up and walked slowly down the hall reading the door numbers. Then suddenly out of one of the rooms ahead of me came Suzan. She glanced up at me as she walked across the hall, did a double take, and stopped short a smile forming on her lips. She nearly ran down the hall to me and smothered me in a warm embrace.

"Hey Mike, what are you doing here?" she said as she pulled away. The look on my face must have said something because her smile faded to a more serious look. "You want to check on her don't you?" I just nodded, unable to speak.

"She asked about you ya know. I told her you were a friend of mine, she asked me if I would ask you to come see her, and here you are before I could even call. You're a good guy Mike."

I hung my head as I looked at my shoes, "Thanks Suzan, why does she want to meet me?"

"Why don't you ask her? Go on, she is a much better state then last night, I promise." I nodded. "I've got to finish rounds, I'll check in on you guys in a while." She turned and headed up the hall before disappearing into another room. It was strange seeing Suzan in her element, she was so business like, so formal.

I walked down to Meg's room finding the heavy wide hospital door ajar by a few inches. I knocked lightly and immediately a gentle high voice said. "Come in." I walked in to find Meg sitting up in bed with the TV on, and a breakfast tray pushed off to the side. It was the first time I think I really saw her. She was tiny, not just in height, but in build too. She looked so terribly young. She reminded me of Kelly in that way.

"Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm Mike, I was . . . I was." I stuttered trying to find words.

"You were at the club. Yeah I remember you, come on in." she smiled then and it was a very pretty smile. I wouldn't say anything about her struck me as stunning, but she was a very "pretty" woman. Her small size and gentle voice gave a soothing warm feeling to her presence. I found my shoulders relaxing.

I walked across the small room taking a chair by the bed as she switched off the TV. She fidgeted with her covers and her hospital gown for a moment before looking at me.

"Thanks for coming; Dr Sloan said she would call you. I. . .I really wanted to talk to you."

I smiled and nodded. Her note was before me trembling, and I found myself unable to call it too me. I found myself too afraid. Still, at my smile I thought she relaxed some.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for what you did. . . for your help and everything. I'm, well, I'm grateful." Her voice was so soft, but her words struck me like blows. I hung my head.

"What's wrong?" her small voice almost cracked and it went right through me.

"It's just, it was so horrible, and I was too late to stop him, and then he. . ." I choked as the emotion rose in my chest.

"He killed himself and I'm glad he is gone." He voice for the first time was firm, almost hard. It snapped my head up to look at her. There was a fierce burning light in her eyes as she spoke again. "The police were here again this morning did you know that?" I shook my head, now held by the fire I saw in her eyes.

"They found evidence in his things, souvenirs of others he has raped. Six other women like me. But I was the lucky one. He killed the others. You saved my life."

My head was spinning, I felt unhinged for a moment, completely unable to respond. I must have opened my mouth to speak and shut it two or three times. The fierce light left her eyes then and she laughed. It was a beautiful musical sound. It was light, it was hopeful. Then she looked at me again, and her eyes looked like they had tears beginning in them.

"So again I say to you, thank you. Thank you for doing something when others wouldn't. Thank you for caring. If you'll let me I would like to give you a hug."

I nodded standing and bent over to embrace her without any conscious thought to the act. She felt so tiny, her frame so small, but the hug she gave me was hard. I pulled back after a moment and realized I had tears on my cheeks to match hers. I smiled then and some great weight lifted from me. She met my smile with one of her own, and it lit up her face again. When she smiled she was beautiful.

I pulled her note to me then as I sat and we talked. I was stuck by the lack of discordant notes in her. She had some terrible memories, but around them were feelings of being wronged, of being a victim but not helpless. It seemed the huge amount of energy I had spoken to her mind to reassure her had somehow helped.

I realized that many of the notes I had plucked still gently resonated in her, but now were fed by her mind. Thoughts that it wasn't her fault, that she in no way invited the attack, that she was not powerless, but mostly that everything would be okay. There in the midst of it all was a deep and genuine gratitude to me, and a new blossoming friendship.

But the memories were still there too; the rape, the gun shot, and the horror of it all. I did my best to ease them, to quiet them but they only stilled a little. The mind drives the music, and I guess not everything is so easily stilled. I vowed though, that I would keep trying.

After an hour of us chatting, Suzan entered the room with a soft knock and a smile.

"How you doing Meg?" she said as she glanced at her chart.

"I'm okay Dr Sloan. Just talking with Mike here. Thanks for calling him." Suzan looked up at her and smiled with raised eyebrows.

"Oh I didn't call him; he came to check on you all by himself."

I could feel the notes in her mind jump then. She was pleased, so very pleased at the idea of a stranger caring enough to come check on her. She turned and smiled at me, and I pushed her note away deciding it was time for her to be alone with her thoughts.

"Well you haven't been bleeding for a while, I see no reason we can't send you home. Do you have someone who can give you a ride?" Suzan said.

"Well I haven't been in town that long, just since start of semester. I don't have a roommate, since I'm in grad Student housing. My family is all in Ohio, and they won't be here until tomorrow probably. I could just call a cab?" She said with a half hearted smile.

"I'll take you home. That is if that is okay with you?" I said surprising myself.

She looked at me for what felt like a long moment, then smiled. "You're very kind Mike, that would be great."

I nodded, and in an hour she was being wheeled out to my car dressed in clothes that looked far too big for her. I realized hers were probably taken as evidence, though there would be no trial. She limped slightly as she walked the last few steps to my car, and I held the door open for her.

It was a short drive to campus, and she directed me to the nicer dorms for the graduate students. We talked little as I drove; I think we both felt a little awkward until I pulled up in front of the dorm.

"Thanks for the ride Mike, and everything else." She said looking at me.

"I'm happy to help. You a grad student?" I asked

"Yeah, working on my PhD in Psych." She said. The surprise must have shown on my face because she laughed before she spoke. "I'm 26, I know I look like a kid but I'm not."

I laughed. "I'm sorry, I bet you get that all the time."

"Yeah, well, mother just keeps telling me to enjoy it, because I'll look like I'm in my twenties when I'm forty!" I nodded smiling with her.

"Look, hey if you need anything give me a call okay. I took one of my business cards out of the consol of the car, scribbled my cell number on it and handed it to her. She read the front and nodded.

"I will, thanks again." And she turned and was gone from the car. I watched her limp up the walk to the door to her dorm, and she was gone.

After I drove home I decided my first cup of coffee for the day was long overdue. I walked the few blocks to the mall and spent my time looking in shop windows on my way. I had called my boss, and he had insisted I take the day off, which was fine by me.

Wendy was not working so I took my coffee from Kelly, returning her smile as I went to sit by the window. I sat looking out at the people passing by in the relatively quiet shop. The morning rush was over, and the lunch rush still an hour away. Kelly was talking on the phone and giggling, and two serious looking students glared at each other over a chess board across the room.

I felt better about the death of the man now, but I was still troubled. I was troubled by how I had let my anger get out of control, and how I had then used the gift. A new resolve was forming in me then. I had to control myself, especially with the gift no matter what I was faced with. I had to learn to control myself more then I needed to continue to learn the nuances of the gift. So much rested upon it, perhaps even my sanity.

I thought about Cynthia and Tuyen, how I had helped them. I thought about Suzan the other night, and I wondered what my meddling would do there. For all of them, they seemed happier now, but the change was painful. Cynthia was a case study in that.

Maybe the gift was better used on small issues then large. But then I remembered the smile I had seen on Cynthia's face in my condo while we spoke on the couch. It was so genuine, so full of hope and life. Wasn't that worth the pain?

I called her note to me and fell into the music of her mind. She was happy, really happy I realized. There was still grief and pain in her, but at the moment she was laughing and joyful. I caught familial feelings, and after a few moments I realized she was eating lunch with her two sisters.

They were laughing about the good things from their childhood. I sat for a while an eavesdropped on her emotions. Before I pushed her away though I strengthened once again her feelings of determination, of strength, and then for good measure her happiness. Why not I thought, she deserved it.

As I returned to the small sunny room in the grind, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Standing in front of my table was Wendy, smiling down at me with a mischievous look on her face. Her white button down shirt was unbuttoned enough to show her pale cleavage, and her legs were once again on display with her short black skirt and stockings. I am sure my brain told my mouth to say something clever, but frankly I think I was lucky not to swallow my tongue.

"Hey Mike." she said as she leaned over on the chair opposite me giving me an even better view of her chest.

"Wendy, hey! I didn't think you were working today." I said finally regaining some composure.

"I'm not. Would you like some company?" As she said this I thought I saw a slight break in her smile, nerves maybe. I called her note to me.

"Are you kidding me, I would love some company." I said with a smile, reading the music of her mind. She was nervous, but also quite aroused and excited. I decided to just drift at the surface, let things come as they would. I did give a faint strum of self confidence to her though.

She pulled the chair out and slid it around so she could sit beside me at the table, instead of across from me. She smelled of sandalwood and maybe a hint of something more floral.

"Why are you in here so late, I missed you this morning." I watched her eyes and then her pretty red lips as she spoke.

"I had to visit a friend in the hospital" I felt a little jab go through me at the realization that I did consider Meg a friend now.

"Oh no! I hope he is okay?" I could feel her genuine concern and empathy. Wendy you really are a gem. I felt her leg rub against my knee as she leaned in closer to me.

"Well, I think she will be okay. She was...umm. Well she was attacked last night." I said trying to be diplomatic, though judging from the notes that rang in Wendy's mind there was only one thing that meant to a woman.

"Oh god. I hope they caught the fucker." Her eyes blazed, and I could feel the outrage burn in her, hard notes that rang like bells fell through her mind.

"Umm, well not really, you see he's dead." I felt sweat break out on my forehead. Suddenly Wendy's note rang loudly in my head, and I felt recognition wash through her.

"Shit! You talking about the guy who killed himself at the club last night." She must have seen the shock on my face for she went on quickly. "It was in all the papers this morning, don't you get the paper?" I shook my head no as my mind spun. Of course it would be in the paper.

Wendy jumped up and walked over to the counter and came back with a paper dropping it on the table in front of me. On the front the headline read, "Rapist murder caught by bystander and commits suicide." It was a large article, and on the front was a picture of the alley leading to the club, with lots of cop cars and people standing around. To one side a group of five people stood on the sidewalk, mostly in silhouette. It was me and the girls.

"The girl in here was your friend?" she said pointing at the paper. I could only nod, staring at the paper. I had pushed her note away, subconsciously maybe. It was a little too visceral seeing that photo.

"Wow, god Mike I am so sorry. How long have you known her? God were you at the club?" I heard my own voice as it came out though it sounded foreign to me.

"I only just met her. I was the one who stopped him." Wendy sat staring at me with a look that said she didn't understand. I felt that weight back in my chest now, and without thinking I rose from my chair.

"I'm sorry Wendy, I . . . I have to go." I stumbled to the door and out onto the mall. The sunlight suddenly seemed so bright. I knew I shouldn't be surprised, I could remember the reporters being there last night, it just brought it all too close to the surface again. I began to slowly walk back toward my condo. It wasn't the guilt over the man's death anymore; it was just the whole horrible night. Some things you wish you could unsee, but they remain in your mind like an etching forever.

I know I should have heard her call to me but I was far too lost in my own emotions and thoughts to be aware of the world around me. Then Wendy took my arm, gently but firmly in a way that someone does when they wish to lend you strength. I looked down at her and I realized she must think I had lost it.

"Wendy, I'm sorry . . .it's just so much, I didn't mean to be rude or. . ." my voice trailed off as my mind kind of spun it's wheels.

"Hey Mike, it's okay. Man I'm so sorry, I didn't know. Where are you going?"

"Home." I said and with my free hand I pointed up the mall. Wendy nodded.

"Okay, can I walk you home?" I nodded and we walked in silence. It was a powerful comfort to have her arm wrapped around mine like that. It was as though she supported me like a drunk trying to walk, and yet I know I placed no weight upon her. Some burdens are heavy for the spirit and the mind, not the body.

I walked up to the condo and opened the door. I walked to the couch and sat down in the soft light of the room. It was the beautiful orange you get when the sun shines in through your blinds, and fills a space with both light and shadow.

Then Wendy was next to me again. I did not remember her following me in. She sat next to me on the couch wrestling with a bottle of expensive wine. She opened it and poured it into two water glasses. Some part of me wanted to roar with laughter, even though I was sure she had grabbed them not knowing where my wine glasses were. Instead I took the glass and took several large swallows from it.

I am not sure how I started, if she asked or if it just began, but I began to talk about that night. Not about the gift, but about the events, about the horror of it. I think that all the things I had seen in others had been little traumas for me as I helped them. Each of them a small hurt that together makes a wound. Then, the trauma of what happened to Meg, and the barbarism of that man had turned my soul inside out. I was so full of pain and shock that I had just been running on autopilot.

Poor Wendy had stepped in it so to speak. She listened and held me and kissed my tear streaked face. I'm not sure how long I talked; I only know that the light shifted from pouring through my eastern windows to pouring through the western ones by the time I had run down.

I sat on the couch and looked over at this beautiful thoughtful girl sitting next to me. Her makeup around her eyes had run from her own tears, but she was smiling, like the sun will shine all the brighter after a hard summer rain. There were lines of concern around her eyes too, but also of something else, perhaps admiration.

I wanted to tell her thank you. To find some words that could express my gratitude to her but instead I leaned over and I kissed her. It wasn't one of those wonderful passionate I want you kisses, it was one that said all the things I wanted to say in the faltering nervous way that we humans communicate. It was terrible, and just right. When I pulled back her eyes were startled, but there was fire in them now.