Chapter 201: Rachael and the Codex

Tuesday, July 6, 1971

Rachael was waiting on me when I reached the Dining Hall a little before seven-thirty. She had us a table back near the doors to the deck, overlooking the lake. I grabbed a tray and some of Mable’s pancakes and sausage, along with my coffee, and headed her way.

“Good morning, Michael. Can you really eat all that?” Rachael asked. She had only a cup of coffee and a half-eaten Danish in front of her.

“I wanted to save myself a second trip,” I explained.

“Oh, my. I guess it’s been a while since I was around growing boys. I had forgotten how much you all can eat.”

“Yeah, we do eat a lot,” I agreed as I dug into the pancakes. I decided that I’d let her take the lead, since she was the one searching for me.

When she didn’t say anything, I prompted her.

“It’s okay, Rachael, I can still listen while I eat. Why don’t you tell me a story. The one about why a rich widow is stalking a sixteen-year-old boy might be good,” I told her.

“Well ... okay,” Rachael said slowly. “Like I told you, my younger brother seemed to have the ability to feel what others around him were feeling. I was in the tenth grade and he had just started the eighth grade when I figured it out. It was a terrible burden for him and when I finally confronted him about it, he begged me not to tell anyone. I didn’t, of course, and he seemed to handle it pretty well for a while. Often, when he was concentrating very hard, I could ‘overhear’ his thoughts without being in the same room. Later, I found I could also hear them when he was extremely happy or very upset. It was actually embarrassing for me at the time.”

“Why was that?” I asked politely.

“Well, that was about the time he went through puberty, and discovered the joys of ... masturbation.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“There was nothing I could do. At that time, a seventeen-year-old girl didn’t talk about things like that with her fifteen-year-old little brother. But I can tell you that he almost drove me crazy for a while. To this day, I do not understand how he kept from wearing it out!”

“We are resilient,” I said.

“Anyway, one day, when he was sixteen, I confided in him that I could sometimes ‘hear’ his thoughts. He became so embarrassed, he fled the room. It turns out that I hadn’t heard all his thoughts as he had been masturbating while thinking of me, sometimes. Well, when he confessed this, I’m afraid I didn’t handle it very well. I was upset, of course, but more importantly, I refused to speak to him for several days.

“Finally, I decided that no harm had come of it. He never touched me or said anything lewd to me, so I decided that it wasn’t that big of a deal. I was hurrying home to tell him when I saw the ambulance in our driveway.

“They tried to stop me, but I saw him before they could. He had gone in my room and sat on my bed and put my father’s shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.”

I became sick at my stomach when she said it. Visions of my own suicide came flooding back as I turned my head to throw up on the floor. I didn’t even have time to get to the bathroom.

Rachael’s cry drew the attention of the morning staff and Mable and a young girl I did not know, were immediately by my side.

I told them I was alright, but Mable insisted I remain seated while they cleaned up. After they finished, I stood up.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Rachael, then stepped out on the deck and dove into the cold lake. We were in the mountains so even in July, the lake was cold. But it felt good. I swam to the beach and toweled off before returning to the Dining Hall. I think the shock of suddenly recalling my own suicide, along with feeling her anguish as she remembered the scene, had done it. But I was okay now.

“I want to apologize,” I told her. “It’s just that I could feel your memory.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot that you could feel me like that,” she replied.

“Forget it,” I told her. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. “So, what did you do?” to resume the conversation.

“I cried for a week. My parents thought it was because I had seen him, so they sent me to a therapist. I ended up going for almost a year before I was able to tell him the whole truth. I finally told the therapist what I suspected about Danny being an empath. Surprisingly, he believed me. He then began to get me information on empaths. But there wasn’t much out there.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve heard that.”

“I became fascinated with psychology. Years later, when my husband afforded me the opportunity to go back to school, I already knew what I wanted to study. And even though I got my doctorate in occupational psychology, I spent a considerable amount of time studying everything I could find on empathic behavior. I must have interviewed hundreds of supposed empaths, however, the overwhelming majority of them were female. And most of them weren’t really all that emphatic.”

“That’s why, when I ‘overheard’ you, it was the first time since I had ‘overheard’ anyone since my little brother. And for some reason, I felt I just had to talk with you.”

“That’s all well and good,” I told Rachael, “but why don’t you tell me the rest of the story.”

Rachael just looked at me. I could feel her wondering how...

“Well ... about two weeks ago, June twenty-second, I think. I was working in my study, when I dozed off. And I had this strange dream. It was about this weird looking manuscript. It was leather-bound, and the pages were filled with all kinds of bizarre writing. In my dream, I picked it up in my hands and suddenly, this eerie sensation flowed through me. As if the book was alive. It reminded me of the first time I felt my brother’s thoughts, only these didn’t make any sense.”

“Go on,” I urged her excitedly. In my mind, I had no doubt that she had held the codex I was searching for.

“Then the dream ended. And I haven’t had it again since then. However, I found I had this overwhelming sense of urgency to find you. That’s why I waited on you, and that’s why I was so forward about dancing with you Sunday night. I don’t know why ... I just felt driven to find you.”

Rachael clasped her hands on her lap and just looked at me expectantly. I took my time considering everything she told me.

“This book? Can you tell me anything else about it?” I asked.

“It was smaller than a school textbook, and the pages seemed to be made of something other than paper. Thicker, more like a parchment. I cannot say what language it was written in. The symbols were totally unknown to me.”

“Anything else?”

“Other than sensing it’s emotions like I did my brother’s and like I sense yours, and the strange sensation that I needed to find you, nothing else,” Rachael said.

I studied the situation a bit longer. That Rachael was now tied to my future, was beyond doubt. The question was ... what did that future hold?

“Welcome to the family, Rachael,” I told her. “Now, what would you like to know?”

“I want to know everything,” Rachael replied, “But I guess the most important things are how did you know, and why is this book I dreamed of so important to you?”

“Nothing like starting with the hard questions first,” I said as I smiled at her. “Before I start, are you up to a short hike. I don’t think this is the best setting to tell you what you want to know.”

Rachael looked down at her feet which were clad in white sandals. “If it’s not too far...” she started.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s swing by my room, then we’ll stop by your place and let you get some better walking shoes, okay?”

“Will I need to put on clothing?” she asked.

“Nah, I think I like you just like that!” I said as we trudged up the hill to the Lodge. I left her on the porch while I went inside. When I returned, I was carrying my sword and a canteen of water.

“Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “Is where we’re walking so dangerous?”

“Not really,” I told her. “You should be safe.

“Except maybe from hypersexual sixteen-year-olds,” Anna quipped as she followed me out. Then to me, she asked, “Where you headed?”

“Spelunking,” I replied as we took off down the trail towards Rachael’s cabin to the sounds of Anna’s laughter.

“Don’t forget you have a part in the dinner play tonight!” she called out after us.

“Forget? I don’t think I even knew,” I thought back to her.

“Maybe I forgot to tell you,” she giggled.

“Later!” I thought to her.

“Do you do that a lot?” Rachel asked. I was still thinking about the dinner play that the ranch did occasionally. They got a bunch of the guests to dress up and read cue cards while acting out their parts during the meal.

“I played a policeman the last time we were here,” I explained.

“No. I mean using your, er, ability to communicate. Like you just did with Dr. Carter.”

“Yeah. All the time.” I told her.

“That’s amazing. How does it work?”

“That’s why we’re going someplace a little more private. So I can answer your questions without being overheard,” I reminded her.

“Can they do that? Overhear you, I mean?”

“All in good time, Dr. Dixon. All in good time.”

She didn’t ask anything else as we stopped by her cabin to let her change shoes.

When she came out, we headed for the logging trail up to Michael’s Pointe. As we walked, I began to tell her about waking up almost two months ago with no memory of my past and the ability to feel other people. As we passed the platform, I paused to sit down while my story caught up to the fertility ceremony we had here. I tried to explain a little about each of the girls, how they had overheard me the first time, and how we realized what it meant when they did.

So far, I had not gone into the aliens, the sword, or the rings.

“So when I overheard you Sunday night, did you assume that I would be another addition to your harem?”

“Warning Will Robinson! Danger! Danger!” the warning bells went off in my brain. While my gift might be considered wonderful by others, I was often left wondering why it didn’t come with more wisdom. However, I had enough experience to recognize the pitfalls of her question. It was like the enigmatic question women always ask men, “Does this make me look fat?”

You have to be very careful how you answer.

“Rachael, there are several women who have been able to overhear my thoughts, who are not a part of my, er, harem, as you call it. One is currently at Duke, studying to be a doctor. Another, Hanna is saving herself for our wedding night. Shelby, well the jury is still out on Shelby, but she did come to work for me. And Aida was a gift, but she’s too immature to understand the situation. Another one is only thirteen and the youngest one is only four years old. She calls me daddy, by-the-way.

“Ohhh?” Rachael said.

“Rachael, what I’m trying to explain is that, until Aida, Shelby, and now you, all the women who have been able to hear my thoughts, did so because I had something to give them, something they wanted or needed. And they in turn had something to give me.”