Chapter 10

The first part of my dream was only slightly unsettling as it had been, if not a constant companion at least a frequent visitor since my recycling. Probably a couple of times a month I was my ten year old self, but without a body. I never grew older, I just continued to exist.

The five senses were a part of the body that was no longer mine so I didn’t see, hear, smell, taste or feel the world ... but still I sensed it. Smarter people than I have tried to describe the input from a sense that the audience doesn’t possess: describing ‘red’ to someone who was blind from birth, for example. Now imagine feeling the input for a sense that you’ve never had. Indescribable will have to do. I believed that what I was sensing were people, maybe their emotions, but I had no way to determine if this was correct.

I didn’t think ... but maybe thought is a function of the body as well. I did feel it, but the only way that I could describe it was: an insufferable longing. Not longing for anything that I could understand, just pure, platonic, longing. Other feelings washed over me but didn’t trigger any corresponding feeling or emotion in my memories, so they remained abstracts.

The second part was also a frequent visitor. I was living my previous life. I had aged, and watched my wife slowly age, in the two years plus since my recycling. Everything in that life appeared as I might have imagined it. I suppose that’s reasonable considering I was (probably) imagining it. It was reassuring to think that in some branch of time I was still there, loving my wife and our cats. In the morning, though, I would look at the lovely young woman lying next to me and be happy that at least one of me was here in this branch.

After that the dreams became new and disturbing. They were bright flashes from my past that was still in this world’s future. Many of those flashes were soaked in blood: Challenger, 9/11, Iraq, Oklahoma City, Columbine, Waco ... enough! Others just were, with no apparent relationships: PCs, the Internet, the minivan, Ollie North’s tears, Monica Lewinsky, Florida 2000, pocket cell phones, Lance Armstrong. Finally there were purely personal images — girls and women, pets, a favorite bike, graduations, divorce, Dave in the hospital after a stroke.

And then there was the strangest part of all. I knew it was a dream because real life isn’t that vivid. Everything looked like it was fresh and new. Every sound achingly pure, textures almost painfully intense.

I didn’t know where it was, but there was a book. It wasn’t thick, but it was in a large format, like a coffee table display book. Its cover was so black that it almost hurt to look at it, but with pleasant silver writing on the cover. Then two hands, middle aged as best I could judge but seeming slightly translucent, opened the book to a marked page. Across the page was a pattern like an incredibly complex Celtic knot, or maybe a maze. Something was written on the facing page but I couldn’t focus on it — that’s when I realized that I was experiencing this from someone else’s perspective. Possibly it was their memory. I saw the right hand hesitantly place its index finger at the start of the pattern and start to trace it. As the hand proceeded through the pattern the world lost its vibrancy, eventually becoming monochrome, sounds became muted and then ceased altogether, until finally with a single, pure, bell tone that was felt rather than heard, the pattern became all and the world went away.

If I dreamt after that, I didn’t remember it.

When I woke up the following morning I was immensely sad. I wasn’t sure where the sadness came from, but the feeling was overwhelming and I started to weep softly. It may have been the sounds I was making or the movement of the bed but something woke Trish and she was instantly in my arms, stroking my back — and crying along with me.

We discussed it and neither of us could figure out where the sadness came from, but it took the best part of an hour before we’d worked through it. By then we were both to the hiccuping stage, so we waited a while longer for that to settle down. Then we got the day underway.

A quick shower helped us both feel more human but, interestingly, neither of us was very talkative that morning. My father did the honors for breakfast — French toast — and we decided it would be a day of rest, at least until it came time to make dinner. After breakfast, then, we just went back to our bedroom and lay down together — my arms around her as we faced the wall.

During our solitary introspections I tried to make sense of my dreams from the night before. I eventually determined the flashing images were reminders — there were things that I might be able to do to help some people with the knowledge I had of the future, though it wouldn’t be soon. I decided to start actively thinking about what I could do about some of the tragedies that were to come, but at first blush the only one that I thought I might have a chance to change was Challenger — though any chance to change even that was years in the future. Still, I resolved to put more thought into the future I remembered.

After lying there for a couple of hours I gently kissed Trish’s jaw then blew softly in her ear, and was rewarded with a shudder and a contented sigh. She rolled over and gave me a kiss of love, but not of passion, and we did the whole ‘got lost in each others eyes’ thing for a while.

“Do you think this whole Making Out 101 thing is a mistake?” I eventually asked.

She looked puzzled and said, “No, I think it’s good for them! I’m sure that they’ll have more willpower now than they would’ve before.”

“I wasn’t thinking of them, I was wondering about us. I wonder if watching me with them will make you uncomfortable or, worse yet, jealous.”

One of the things that I loved about Trish was her willingness to think before speaking and she did this time. After a few minutes she finally shook her head.

“I admit that when you first started kissing Jodi it bothered me a little and there was more of a twinge when you first stroked her breast. The way that you stopped, though, killed that twinge and ensured there wouldn’t be any more. Anyone could see that you were only involved enough to try to make it so special for her that she couldn’t say no — emotionally you seemed completely unaffected, though I’m sure my friend down there was standing proud.

“Later, when we found out about Felicia, I knew the lessons were the right thing to do. She really needed it!

“Maybe you’re thinking that you’re cheating on me, maybe just a little?” she held up her finger and thumb maybe a 1/8” apart.

That had been part of my problem so I simply nodded.

“You’re not,” she went on. “Not even a little. You approach it like any other study session and I think that’s helping them learn a little detachment, too. I know that we have to be careful but as long as you can keep that detachment I don’t think that I’ll get jealous. Maybe a little envious...”

“Well, if you’re envious I’m sure that I can give you a lesson or two as well,” I countered, while grinning madly.

She looked thoughtful for a second and then said, in a serious voice, “You know, that might not be a bad idea.”

I had something that I wanted to pick up for the next day’s lessons so a little later Trish and I rode our bikes to Kmart. I thought I’d seen it in the sporting goods section there and I was right. “Halt!” brand pepper spray. I told Trish I’d explain about it during our next study session.

Making Out 101 reconvened the next day at the Nelsons’ house right after school. The other three were a bit surprised when Trish announced that she was joining the course as well, but she explained that she had limits too and practicing arbitrary ones was good for her. I’m not sure they understood about her limits — I’m positive they thought we’d already gone all the way — but they let it slide.

“Besides,” she continued with a wicked smile, “he’s my boyfriend. I’m only sharing him with you!”

Jodi and Felicia just laughed at that, but Jenny looked serious when she went up to Trish and wrapped her in a firm hug. After she backed off the hug she said, “You’re right, he is your boyfriend. Thank you for trusting him, and thank you for caring enough about us to let him help us.”

By prior agreement I asked Trish to go first. She set her limit at having my mouth on her breasts — no hands below the waist. I gave her my best shot — and it was good enough. While she managed to push my hand away when it strayed, we both knew that she wasn’t completely in control and a little persistence on my part would have overcome her resistance.

When we turned back to our audience it was obvious that her lesson had an effect — Jodi was glassy eyed while the other two were both breathing hard.

Jenny was next up and she picked the same limits — nothing below the waist. I don’t know if it was the earlier display or not but for the first time she failed miserably — she actually grabbed my hand when I started to remove it! She didn’t let go until I lightly nipped her nipple.

Felicia sat out since she didn’t yet feel comfortable pushing her limits any further, so Jodi was next. I was impressed and I made sure to tell her so — she managed to keep plenty of control even though I was doing my damnedest to get her worked up!

Afterward we discussed the lesson.

Jodi said, “I spent a lot of time yesterday trying your visualization exercise. I knew what your hands felt like and I worked hard to be able to think straight while remembering the feeling. And it worked!”

“Wonderful!” I said. “That brings up a good point. When I talked about the visualization I suggested you’d need to imagine what it felt like, but if we’ve practiced it you can use your memories instead.”

Jenny chimed in with, “I couldn’t have imagined how good your mouth would feel on my tit. I thought I was ready for it since I hadn’t had any problems with the others but that was just incredible.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” Trish added. “I know I should be used to how incredible it feels but I guess I didn’t realize just how much it would sap my will.

“That’s something we should all remember,” she went on. “Some of the steps on that list will be much tougher than others. For example, I can absolutely guarantee you that if Jeff starts licking your pussy, you won’t be able to say no — you probably won’t be able remember your own name.”

Turning to me she continued, “In fact, I don’t think that should be one of the lessons. If a girl has agreed to let a guy do that I don’t think she’s planning to say no to anything else, do you?”

I doubted the irony of what she’d said escaped her so I chose not to point it out. It’s not like I was pushing. Instead I just replied, “Got me. I’ve heard that a lot of guys won’t do it so it’s probably not an issue anyway. Personally I think they’re nuts, but that’s what I’ve heard.

“I’ve got another thing to add to the lessons for today. So far we’ve been talking about how to deal with guys who want to push your limits. There are also guys who don’t care what you want, they just want to take. The general rule is that if they don’t care about you then you shouldn’t be worried about them! You do whatever you need to do.

“Trish and I picked these up yesterday.” With that I pulled out cans of “Halt!” for each of them, and one for me. “This is pepper spray. It’s useful against most animals; both four legged, and two. You spray it in their face — eyes, nose and mouth are all susceptible — and it will almost certainly stop them, though only momentarily. Think of it like getting the juice from a hot, hot, pepper sprayed in your eyes.”

Trish, Jodi and Felicia all winced at that — I wondered if Jenny didn’t do much cooking but it turned out that her father didn’t like spicy foods so she hadn’t had any contact with peppers in the kitchen.

We then discussed other ways of discouraging guys who won’t take no for an answer: screaming, breaking fingers, jabbing eyes, cupped hand slaps to the ears, hard soled shoes as weapons — the sorts of things that in the next few years would start to be discussed for preventing date rape.

“Probably the most important thing is to start defending yourself the second you realized there’s a problem. Don’t try to reason with him, don’t try to wrestle with him — hit him with everything you’ve got immediately! If he drives you someplace out of the way even though you tell him you don’t want to then don’t hesitate — the second he’s parked hit him with the pepper spray and get the hell out of the car! You already know you should always have phone change, right? That’s why. You might have to walk for a couple of miles but it’s better than being raped.”