Chapter 57

Seated at his desk, William listened to the sound of a twelve-string guitar emanating from the guest room. He liked the music Greg Banner created. Lucy loved the music and could listen to it all day. Turning to Ken, he snapped his fingers to get the man's attention. Once he was sure that Ken was looking at him, he said, "Doug is here."

Ken reached the intercom in time to hear the signal from the guard. Pushing the button, Ken said, "Let Doug in."

"Sure," came the answer. It sounded tinny as a result of the low quality speaker. The guard was positive that there was a hidden camera watching his every action. That was the only way that they could possibly know when someone drove up.

William stood up and went to the door of the guest room. Knocking on it, he waited for Greg Banner to reply. The music stopped and Greg called out, "What is it?"

"My friend has arrived," William answered.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Greg stepped out. He looked around and asked, "Where is he?"

William pointed at the door just as Ken opened it to reveal Doug stepping up to the doorstep. He answered, "There."

Giving William a sidelong glance, Greg turned his attention to watch Doug enter the room. It was obvious to him that the young man knew the people of the household and his way around the house. Waving a hand to William and saying a quick hello, Doug walked past them and called into the kitchen, "Hello Lisa. Could you give me a cup of that wonderful coffee of yours?"

"I'm pouring it right now," Lisa answered. A moment later, she handed him a cup.

"Thank you," Doug said before taking a sip. He had just driven almost nine hours non-stop from New Jersey and was exhausted. With a sigh, he said, "Wonderful."

"Thank you, Doug," Lisa said.

Doug went over to his favorite chair, but didn't bother to take a seat. After taking another sip of coffee, he looked across the room at William. He set the cup of coffee on a coaster and said, "I've been driving for nine hours straight. That reminds me, which room is mine?"

William pointed down the hall and said, "Your usual room."

"I'll be right back," Doug said heading to the guest room.

Greg looked at William and said, "He's pretty rude."

"No. He's got to go to the bathroom," William said. Used to people entering the house, stripping, and heading to the pool with the barest of hellos, William did not consider Doug's behavior as exceptional.

"I don't mean that. He's a rude guest," Greg said.

"Oh that. He's like family and not a guest. The only reason he asked which room was his is because he sleeps on the couch when we have a lot of guests," William said.

"Oh," Greg said.

It was five minutes later that Doug came out of his room to find William and Greg seated on the sofa. Settling into his favorite chair, he asked, "So what's so important that you have me come here all of the way from Princeton?"

William answered, "I want you to meet Greg Banner. Greg, this is Doug."

Doug stood up, and went over to Greg. He extended a hand and said, "I'm pleased to meet you."

Still rather taken aback by the rude behavior he had witnessed, Greg answered, "Same here, I think."

Stretching to get a kink out of his back, Doug asked, "Now that we've met, what's next?"

"I want you to tell Greg about your idea about a crisis of followership," William answered.

"Is he going to help you in constructing your equations?" Doug asked suddenly alert and focused on the discussion.

"No. I have a feeling that he's going to be part of implementing a solution," William answered looking over at Greg.

Puzzled by the discussion, Greg didn't even know where to begin asking questions. Doug returned to his chair and took a sip of his coffee trying to decide how a single person would have a role in implementing a solution. He took moment to savor the taste of the coffee before starting to describe what he meant by a crisis of followership. The discussion flowed as the three young men bent their minds to the issue. Greg debated every aspect of the proposed theory.

After three hours, Greg sat back and said, "I believe that you are correct. It fits with things that I've heard as I've traveled around the country. The problem is that I don't know what I can do to help."

"I don't know what needs to be done, yet," William said. He frowned and then said, "It will be years before I've finished developing the theory. It will be years more before I figure out what can be done to change the path down which this country marches."

"I see," Greg said. It was going to be an interesting challenge. One of the roles of a Bard was to convey information from one place to another. It was an important role, but not the most important one. The more important role was to listen to the people. The problem that William and Doug had put forth was going to influence how he heard what people said.

Shaking his head, Doug said, "There is still a lot of information that William requires and I'm having problems locating it. We may never solve this problem."

Greg nodded his head and thought about it. His conversation with the Grand Druid had suggested that William was a special character and not to be dismissed. The more time he had spent with the young man, the easier it came to accept the Grand Druid's advice. Looking at William, he asked, "What do you think of it taking years to accomplish your task?"

"I think it is great. It gives my work a consistent direction," William answered. He could think of nothing more tragic than to spend his life drifting from one minor problem to the next. He wanted, no he needed, something substantial on which to work. There were others who were satisfied with solving the minor problems and making a difference in the day to day lives of individuals. He wanted to change the world to help all of them.

"It doesn't bother you that you'll spend years working on something without knowing that you'll eventually solve it?" Greg asked.

"Rome wasn't built in a day," William answered.

"But Rome wasn't the result of a plan created by a single individual," Greg countered.

William grinned and said, "I know. That's probably why it fell."

Relaxing around the patio table the next afternoon, the three young men were discussing music. William was interested in how Greg viewed his form of service while Doug was interested in how Greg's music differed from that heard on radios. Greg said, "I believe in mind music."

"What's that?"

"I believe that there are some songs that affect the way we think and act just by hearing them. I'm not talking about lyrics, but about pure music," Greg said.

"I don't understand," Doug said.

"Well, consider the sound of chalk on a blackboard. That screech has an immediate effect on most people."

"I hate that sound," Doug said giving an involuntary shudder at the memory of it.

"You see, that is just one kind of sound that directly affects the mind. We all know it because it is so negative. The amazing thing is that it is independent of culture. I can go anywhere in the world and produce the sound of chalk on a blackboard with identical results.

"I believe that there are positive versions that instill tranquility, love, satisfaction, and other positive emotional experiences. I just haven't found it yet, although the sound of a kitten purring comes close," Greg said.

"Is that your quest?" William asked.

"Yes, it is," Greg answered.

"What about marches? Aren't they examples?" Doug asked.

"Oh, there are lots of things that come close. Marches, hymns, fugues, chants, and other sounds are very close. Still, none of them have that instinctive reaction that I am seeking," Greg answered. He found it difficult to put into words. Groping for words, he said, "It's got to be a sound that is immediate and instinctual."

"Do you have any other ideas?"

Greg took a deep breath and let loose with a little burst of song. The voice was strange and haunting with multiple resonances present within it. Chills went down Doug's spine on hearing it. Once he had finished, Doug said, "That's incredible."

Greg said, "That was an example of throat singing. There are a number of different forms, but they all have an immediate effect on the listener."

There was a slight noise from behind William. Turning, he examined Jan who had just walked around the corner of the house from her RV. He was surprised by her appearance. It looked as if she had been sleeping in the clothes that she was wearing. About to comment, he noticed the stack of papers that she held in her hand. He said, "Hello, Jan."

"Hello William. Sorry I haven't been much company the last few weeks, but I was really driven to work," Jan said holding up the stack of papers. Looking down at the papers, she said, "The book is ready for you to read. Let me put it on your desk."

"That would be nice," William said. The stack of papers looked to be about three hundred pages. He was impressed with her productivity. Just a month ago, she had started trying to commit the stories she had collected to paper.

Jan went into the house and then returned to the patio after a few minutes. She held a cup of coffee in her hands. Without asking if she was intruding, she took a seat at the table. After a sip of coffee, she sighed and said, "This tastes so good."