Chapter 2

One day shortly before David turned seventeen, he concentrated and pictured his math teacher in his mind, and then wished he could connect with him. Suddenly his consciousness looked down on the slovenly man. Eager to test the possibilities of his new approach, he pictured Denise, someone he'd never met while in his body, and in a flash, his consciousness hovered over her in Albuquerque as she moved her fingers over the keyboard of a computer. Excited, he tested his newfound ability with a dozen more individuals he'd met while in his body or while his consciousness had taken flight. He connected with all of them. Rejoicing, he realized his consciousness trips had just taken a quantum leap forward.

When he tried the same approach with a person he'd never met, either in his body or during a trip, nothing happened. In an attempt to expand his capabilities, he studied photographs and videos of the President of the United States, pictured the man in his mind, and then wished to visit him. Nothing. David reasoned his consciousness connected with brainwave patterns or some other aspect of a person, because he still couldn't send his consciousness to a geographical location either. However, he could hover over even relative strangers without difficulty as long as he'd seen them while in his body or when visiting someone else on a consciousness trip.

With his expanded ability to move in and out of so many lives, it was inevitable he would stumble over the many problems most everyone faced. Some problems were simple, and he ignored them. For instance, Lou Hunter's mother was a barely functioning alcoholic. While preparing breakfast for the family, she tossed back a shot of vodka. Most days after the kids and hubby left the house, she had a few more drinks and nipped steadily through the morning, finally passing out in a drunken stupor sometime in the afternoon, only to awaken, take a shower and prepare the evening meal.

David pieced the scenario together by inserting himself into the woman's life for a split second ten or twenty times a day over a period of a week. He did the same with a number of other individuals. During a trip, he could check on upwards of a hundred individuals during a minute's time, and his ride with Tim to and from school everyday gave him opportunities to not only check on those he knew but also to expand the number of individuals he could visit. Tim didn't mind if he phased out for a few minutes. He also often took a trip between classes, and a lengthier journey during his lunch break. Some classes, like the computer lab, let him grab a minute or two, as well, and most evenings and weekends afforded his consciousness some quality time with selected individuals. The time difference between the east and west coasts helped him connect with active individuals in the early mornings. Visiting someone while they were asleep was boring and unproductive.

David remembered the day he approached his mother about Denise's problem, the same day he told her about his desire to invest his college fund. She'd just pulled a tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

"Mom, Denise is interested in hypnotherapy and hooked up with an unscrupulous woman with a hypnotherapy practice. The woman put her under and took advantage of her. She's a frumpy broad, certainly not the type of woman Denise would select for some fun and games, but what really pissed me off was the fact that the doctor took the part of Darla when she molested Denise. Denise must have spilled the beans about her past sex life while in a trance, and the woman used that information to set Denise up."

"Oh, no! Denise needs to know!"

"How? What would you tell her? My son wanders around and watches you at work and play whenever he gets the urge, and this afternoon he just happened to witness Dr. Stein raping you while you were in a trance. Come on, Mom. Get real." With a loud sigh, he shook his head and said, "Denise isn't the only one I visit with problems either. The world is full of sick people. Ellen's uncle is a pedophile, and he's sexually molesting his twelve-year-old daughter. The little girl isn't happy about it either. Cheryl's older sister, Jenny, is into drugs, and the guy she's running with is worse than she'll ever be. I watched him brandish a gun in a convenience store for drug money while Jenny was passed out in the car. And last but not least, Tim's girlfriend, Tina Granger, is being physically abused. Her dad likes to use his family members as punching bags to prove he's the man of the house."

"Judas! How many persons can you visit now?"

"I don't know, a thousand, maybe more. I haven't counted. The number is beside the point. My visits dumped four serious problems in my lap. There's more, but of a less drastic nature I plan to ignore. Mom, should I get involved? I mean, should I fix the serious problems if I can?"

"You seem hesitant. Why?" she asked.

"Considering human nature, the problems will be never ending. Once I fix one problem, another will pop up. Besides, I'll need to reveal my ghostly presence to fix some of them, and I've gone to great lengths to keep my ability a secret. I certainly don't want to become a lab rat in some government secret project."

"Oh," Carol remarked, looking somewhat stunned. "Good points. You've thought this through further than I have. You mentioned four problems, and in one fashion or another, you have a personal connection with each of them. Denise you know through Darla and me, more specifically me. You connected with the pedophile through Ellen, Jenny through Cheryl, and Tina's father through Tim. Are you feeling a sense of obligation because of the personal connection?"

"Yeah," he said and popped a homemade cookie into his mouth.

"Can you solve any of these problems without exposing the presence of your consciousness while on a trip?"

He swallowed. "Probably, but scaring the bejesus out of some of the culprits offers the easiest solution. When I saw the pedophile in action last night, I grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked him off his little girl's body. I then beat the living daylights out of him with imaginary fists." A disgusted laugh gushed from his mouth. "That problem might be solved. I told the pervert if he ever touched his little girl again I'd kill him!" David shuddered. "What scared me, Mom, was the fact I was serious at the time." He gazed beseechingly at the person he trusted above all others. He needed his mother's guidance and wisdom.

"I'd have been sorely tempted to do the same in your place," she said, "but violence isn't the solution. You're not the violent type, son. Promise me you won't resort to physical violence while on a trip unless it's a matter of life and death."

He nodded. "I understand. I promise."

"You'll be tempted like you were with the pedophile, and your ability will let you get away with anything you do, so you must place a higher moral standard on your actions while out of your body than you would while in your body. If you don't, the dark side inside you will slowly take over, and I assure you, David, we all have a dark side. You knew intuitively what you did with Barbara was wrong. What you did with the pedophile was wrong, too. Somehow, you could have found another way to stop him. Use right and wrong as your guide."

When he nodded again, she opened the refrigerator and poured milk in a tall glass. "Here," she said, handing him the glass. "Milk goes with cookies."

He grinned. "Thanks. Besides possibly donning an outfit with a big S on it, I've been wracking my brains trying to figure out how to use my ability to make money. Don't take this wrong because you're a good provider, but I checked out our financial situation a few nights ago while you were asleep. We're living on the edge. As long as you can work, we're all right, but if you had an extended illness, we'd be in deep shit, or am I wrong?"

With a grimace, she said, "No, you're not wrong. The situation has been a worry to me, too. When your father was killed, I put some of the insurance money away for a college fund for you and Darla, but with increased tuition costs, combined with the overall drop in the stock market last year, which reduced the value of the funds, you'll both need to take part-time jobs to help with the expenses."

Her gaze became unfocused, and David assumed she was yet again cursing his father for getting himself killed and leaving her alone. During a number of visits, he'd listened to his mother have a one-sided conversation with her dead husband. She cursed him, but from the tone of her voice, David had no doubts that she'd loved him deeply when he was alive. Ah hell, he thought kindly, she still loves him.

She turned to her son. "Any ideas?"

"Perhaps. I'll need to risk my college fund, though."

"No way."

"The day after I checked out our finances, I visited a stock brokerage house. Using a school paper as a ploy, I spoke with a number of brokers, including the head honcho. That afternoon, he flew to New York City to meet with his bosses, so I met them, too, and I've expanded my circle of financial advisors considerably since then. I've also been studying stocks and bonds and related subjects like economics on the Internet. I'm not ready yet, but within a couple of weeks, I'd like to move some my college fund, and open an account with an online broker, so I can do my own trading. I'll start with $3,000, and when I've doubled that amount, I'll want to invest the rest of the fund. If I lose the $3,000, I'll back off and try some other way to make money."

Dumbstruck, she stared at him as if he were mad.

When she didn't say anything, he nervously added, "It isn't foolproof, but it's as close as I can make it." He blushed. "I hesitate to tell you, but in all honesty, I'll use insider information for most of my trades. I created sort of a folder of CFO's for public companies I can visit to obtain timely information that will give me reasons to buy or sell."

"CFO's?"

"Chief Financial Officers."

"Oh."

"While accumulating my horde of financial advisors, I discovered the big shots in the stock market use insider information for their investments all the time. If caught, they could receive a fine and a slap on the wrist from the SEC, or in flagrant cases, be enjoined from trading. Obviously, no one can tumble onto how I acquire insider information."

"SEC?"

"Security Exchange Commission. Actually the Justice Department prosecutes the cases."

"Sounds to me like you'd be breaking the law, David."

"Technically, but for those seriously involved in stocks and bonds, it's a fairly common practice. If life were just, the FBI's Ten Most Wanted would all be working on Wall Street. You told me to use right and wrong as my guide, Mom. I don't consider using my unique ability to make money in the stock market wrong. Let me give you an example. While researching the market, I came across an article that detailed how one man, a mathematician, made money in the market. He developed algorithms using chaos theory to perfect a system that gave him an edge. In other words, he used his unique ability much like I'd be using mine. For what it's worth, the mathematician is one of my financial advisors."

She shook her head. "Careful, Son. Once your moral dam has a crack in it, it won't take much to widen the crack until you can rationalize any behavior just because you're unique."

David pondered her statement. "Uh-uh. Using my ability to make money just doesn't feel wrong to me, Mom."

With a shrug of her shoulders, she asked, "What do you mean by a sort of folder?"

"As my ability improved, and I was able to connect with more and more individuals, I needed a way to categorize them so I could visit them without a lot of effort. I have a major folder I dubbed Financial Advisors and a subfolder within that one I named CFO's. While on a trip, I briefly attended a CFO convention in Atlanta, and can currently listen to and observe about two hundred CFO's. Of course, listening to all of them would take too much time, so I visit them in a burst, like a compressed electronic message. My consciousness can connect with all of them one at a time in about three minutes. I've given my consciousness some key words and phrases, and if a CFO says any of the words or phrases, it stops and allows me to listen until I tell it to move on. I haven't perfected the system yet, but it's improving daily."

Completely amazed, she shook her head and said, "Give me an example of the type of information you need to make a good decision about a stock."

He grinned, knowing she was warming to his idea. "Let's say XYZ Company is coming out with an earning's report in a couple of days, and they've exceeded their earning's projections. I'd buy their stock in that instance because the stock price will go up as soon as the excessive earnings are announced. The same thing happens if the company doesn't meet its projection, except the value of their stock will go down. It that case, I'd go short."

"Short?"

"Playing the stock market is like gambling. When you go long or purchase stock, you're betting its value will go up. When you go short, you're betting it's going to go down. As long as you guess correctly, you can make money either way. I'm just trying to take as much guess work out of the process as possible."

Carol pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay, I'll move $3,000 from your college fund into an account with the online broker you select. Let me know where and how the funds should be transferred. I'll want to sit down and talk with you again before I move the rest of the fund."

That was then. Now his financial advisors numbered in the tens of thousands and spanned the globe. He turned to Denise who was lying next to him on a lounge chair on the patio of his Scottsdale home.

"I'm going to take a trip, Denise. I'll be gone for about two hours."

"Okay. Have fun. I'll have lunch ready when you return."

When David didn't answer after Claire Beck jabbed the doorbell twice, she tried the door. It wasn't locked, so she walked boldly into his house.

Claire wasn't happy. Instead of inviting her on the maiden voyage of his new cabin cruiser, David had taken his mother and her dyke girlfriend, Denise. He knew how much she'd wanted to go with him, too, how much she enjoyed boating, and water skiing, and... fucking. Yet again, she pictured herself lying on the deck of the sleek cruiser in her bikini, or rather, part of her bikini, teasing him by going topless, her full breasts glistening with oil under a clear-blue sky until he couldn't stand it any longer and ravished her. Damn him!

Inviting Carol on the cruise was okay, I guess, Claire thought grudgingly. After all, she's his mother. But Claire didn't trust Denise. Lesbian or not, Claire didn't appreciate the way Denise gazed at David all starry-eyed, or the way she touched him all the time, innocent touches, sort of, but dammit to hell, the bitch had the grace of a jungle cat and the body of a runway model. Besides, Claire could fathom no reason why she wasn't invited on the trip anyway. Carol and Denise could've shared a bed, and she could've cuddled up with David in the master stateroom. David had informed her the cruiser slept up to six people.

Even with his mother and Denise aboard, he had room for me, the jerk!

Claire understood the problem. David didn't love her, not like she loved him. The handsome rascal attracted gorgeous females like a landfill attracted flies, and he didn't brush them all away, either. She knew he hadn't been faithful, but then they hadn't made any commitments to each other, so she had no right to complain. She hadn't exactly been true-blue herself. Still, the sexy jerk was attentive to her, treated her with respect, at times even with adoration, and he was the best lover she'd ever had.

Fuck!

She wandered the house but didn't find him until she stepped outside when she heard a splash in the pool. David wasn't in the pool, though. The damned jungle cat slash runway model glided across the water in the skimpiest bikini Claire had ever seen. Christ on a stick! With the string of the thong the slut wore hidden out of sight between the cheeks of her butt, she might as well be naked.

Claire turned her attention to David. He was lying on a lounge chair. His skin glowed with oil like her breasts in her fantasy, and his tan had deepened to a golden ruddiness. The sight of his ripped body and rugged features quickened her heartbeat as she stepped toward him, but suddenly she pulled up short when she realized he was in one of his damned comas.

Fuck!

Tripping in his here and now, not somewhere along the continuum into his mother's past or somewhere into her future, David had just completed his morning rounds of his financial advisors. During the flight of consciousness, he'd connected with over a thousand individuals. With the knowledge he'd gained during the trip, he could increase his holdings substantially.

He switched his consciousness connection to his mother, and using the stentorian voice he'd perfected, he outlined the trades he wanted her to make in the portfolios that day. She took notes while he spoke.

"No problem," Carol said when he finished. "I'll make the trades right after lunch. To change the subject, now it's sunk in, how is Denise taking your decision to defer your decision to give her a child?"

"She's not happy camper, but strangely content. I think she expected a delay. It's certainly not something anyone should jump into without serious thought."

"Have you connected with Darla to discuss why she thinks you should refuse Denise's request?"

"Not yet."

"By the way, Claire drove up a while back. She's probably inside your house as we speak. You should get into the habit of locking your doors, son. Also, tell Denise I'll join you for lunch." She snorted a laugh. "With Claire here, I wouldn't miss the fireworks. Your girlfriend doesn't like my girlfriend very much."

David groaned and willed his consciousness to return to his body. When his eyes fluttered open, he gazed up into Claire's blue eyes.

She didn't look happy.

Try not to whine, Claire told herself. No man enjoys a whiney woman. When asked, she'd turned the threesome into a foursome for lunch, but exhibited little enthusiasm or appetite. The jungle cat had prepared the lunch while David rested in one of his comas. What's with those two? David was 100% hetero. Of that, Claire had no doubts, and from Claire's observation, Denise was 100% lesbo. Denise found men abhorrent as sexual partners, in most every other kind of interaction, too, from what Claire had observed. Still Denise and David's relationship seemed to resonate with a sexual component of some kind. Claire just didn't get it, and being out of the loop irritated her.