Читать книгу Funny You Should Say That - Chuck Sr. Coburn - Страница 7

I returned home that evening after having experienced more than a lifetime of events in just three short days. To say that I was on an emotional high would be the understatement of the year! I reviewed all that had happened over and over in my mind, not really believing what I knew had occurred.

I wandered aimlessly around the house. Eventually I found myself in the back yard reflecting on the entire weekend, seated in one of those old, uncomfortable, metal patio chairs that always find their way into back yards. I felt wonderfully alive, having rediscovered the use of my seldom-expressed emotions. Like a kid with a new toy I felt excited, but fearful of testing its limits and determining just what it could do.

My mind repeatedly returned to the episode at dinner where I had accurately predetermined an event, and a dramatic event at that, several minutes before it occurred. What had happened must have been a fantasy, I thought; it couldn't actually have taken place. It was not unlike the entertaining tales that appeared in science fiction comic books I'd read as a child. But I knew those stories never really happened, not really. Decades ago I had reluctantly accepted the fact that I did not have supernatural powers. I learned, for example, l could never be like Superman, in spite of many childhood, body-bruising attempts to learn how to fly. (That X-ray vision thing, though , might have offered some good insights.)

Life had taught me that reality was what you could see or feel and that anything else was fantasy or wishful thinking. Real was real, and that was that! This notion had been reinforced repeatedly, such as when my boyhood friend Harry and I sent away for one of those throw-your-voice devices advertised for $19.95 in the back of Boy's Life. As we grew up, we discovered those things never actually worked.

There was the time Harry and I bought a book on mental telepathy. We had been told by Harry's older brother that by staring at the back of someone's neck while thinking the phrase "turn around," you could easily maneuver and control others. Although Harry seemed to have some success, I concluded that it was because he would "break wind" while standing fairly close to his target, unfairly skewing his claimed metaphysical results.

So here I was, sitting in the back yard, freezing my assorted appendages at 10:00 P.M. on an October Sunday night while attempting to redefine reality from my new perspective. I had clearly experienced one of those life-altering events reported in books on famous people. But, hey, I was no one special, just an ordinary guy who thought he had a fair understanding of life even though he had never been issued an operating manual.

I began to speculate that if this paranormal experience could occur within the controlled environment of the workshop, and again when guided by Susan at dinner, then maybe I could switch it on by myself.

On the other hand, what if it began to happen spontaneously and I couldn't control it? I began to consider whether I really wanted the responsibility of knowing what was going to happen before it occurred. What if I knew someone was going to die or something? The thought could be downright scary.

What I had recently experienced was definitely unusual or abnormal by almost anyone's measurement, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be different. After all, how many years did it take to get things the way I thought I wanted them? I fit into my circle of friends just fine, thank you, and I was not convinced that I wanted my life to change. Furthermore, TV's Mr. Rogers had repeatedly told me that he liked me just the way I was!

At the same time, whatever was happening to me was intriguing... no, it was fascinating, and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to leave this thing alone!

As I looked out on the late night darkness, I began to contemplate how I might induce another psychic experience. Again concern arose: what if I did and it turned out to be another negative occurrence, might I be the cause of it? What if I set something in motion over which I had no control? What if this thing got out of hand?

Nonetheless, I took a deep breath... closed my eyes... and waited for a thought-picture to begin forming as before.

Nothing happened.

I waited for a considerable time, and nothing kept happening. This special, increased awareness simply told me that it was cold and that I was extremely tired from all that had come my way since Friday morning. I decided to abandon this outpost on the edge of weirdness and go inside to bed.

As I ambled through the house turning off lights, for absolutely no apparent reason 1 began to think about playing tennis. I thought it odd since I had no particular interest in the sport. The more this idle thought occupied my mind, however, the more I noticed that the court surface I mentally pictured was painted an odd green color.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, unloosening my shoes, I realized that there was only one pair of feet on this court. Unusual, I thought; it was my understanding that it took at least two players to make the game work. I concluded they were female feet because the socks had those cute, fuzzy little balls dangling from the back. The feet, one of which was wrapped in something like a support bandage, seemed to float up from the court and drift off to my left.

Though I attempted to dismiss the though t, the picture kept reappearing in my mind-an odd colored court and a pair of feet with one apparently injured, floating up, up and away...

I wasn't "seeing" it like I see a book or painting. It was more like a nagging thought or idea lingering in the back of my mind while I tried to focus on something else. This thought was locked in now, repeating over and over on the projection screen in my head like a stuck loop of film.

As I turned off the last light and snuggled into my bed, the scene continued to replay. After reviewing the reruns repeatedly, I gave up trying to sleep, slipped on my bathrobe and returned to the back yard where my preoccupation originated. Nothing much had changed since I had left, other than it had gotten colder.

Then I got it!

The court that I had been visualizing actually existed in a nearby neighbor's yard! Although it was usually only observable from my vantage point in the daylight, it could be seen at this time of year when the leaves began dropping from the trees.

I peered in the direction of the court to verify the odd surface color in the dark. It occurred to me that judy, the woman whose court I was seeing, would most Likely wear the cutesy tennis socks I'd seen in my "vision."

In a flash I was in my house, searching for her phone number in our neighborhood pool club directory, remembering that she was also a member. If it were her feet, perhaps she could give me confirmation about the bandage. It was late, but I could not wait until morning. From my position I could just make out a light on in her front room , so I assumed she was still up and about.

I realized that I would have to provide some plausible explanation for my unusual call because I would risk losing my credibility in our social circle if I were wrong. It's not often that one makes a telephone call late on a Sunday night to confirm a full-on vision! Vision-wasn't that what the guys in the Old Testament used to have? But I phoned her anyway, apologized for the lateness of my call, and gave her a condensed version of what I had experienced.

After what had to be a millennium of silence, she began to chuckle in the wonderful way one does when something is suddenly understood. Without even questioning the highly unusual nature of my late call, she laughed a second time.

"You know... "She paused.

"FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT... !"

She went on to describe the events of her weekend, relating i n great detail how she had sprained her ankle the day before... playing tennis on her court! And, if that were not , she added that she and her husband had just concluded the purchase of a new house. They would be moving as soon as they could sell their home!

My mind could hardly accept what I had just heard! Her ankle had been sprained (the bandage) and they were going to move from their house (feet leaving the tennis court)! Furthermore, the new home was located in the same direction-as seen from my back yard-as the feet had drifted in my psychic visualization.

It had happened again!

Hanging up the telephone, I decided I was not about to go outside again; if I did, I just might encounter one of those scary things that as a kid I knew hid in the shadows...

And I didn't think I could deal with that just then!