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Authors: Paul J. Newell

BOOK: Altered States
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Why was all this so necessary? Why could I not just have dealt with Scarlett on a smaller scale? Because I had an ulterior motive...

To solve a bigger problem.

It was a problem that had troubled me ever since the beginning. A problem that was very personal to me, but one that was affecting everyone on the planet to an ever greater degree. Although few were aware, it was undeniable that the world was suffering from the greatest pandemic it had ever had to face. One so damaging that if it could not be cured then the entirety of our race’s achievements would count for nothing.

This disease to which I refer is: unhappiness.

It wasn’t just me. I may be a special case, but despite all the riches of the developed world, people are less content now than they have been at any point in history. And if, with all our ingenious advancements, we are less content in our lives than the animals around us, then what was the point of our millennia of evolution? What was the point of coming down from the trees in the first place?

To answer this question you need to understand how it can be so, that the haves of the first world are no more content than the have-nots of the third world; how the haves of today are no happier than the have-nots of the post-war era.

How can this be so?

Consider this.

If a happy person gets paralysed in an accident then they become a happy person in a wheelchair – eventually. And if an
unhappy
person wins the lottery then they just become an unhappy millionaire.

This is true. I’ve seen it. The point you may take from this is that whatever happens to you, you never really change; after a period of adjustment you return to whoever you were before. This is true, if left unchecked.

But there’s a more fundamental point, and it is simply this: happiness is state of
mind
; not a state of material.

It’s not about what you have; it’s about how you
think
. And states of mind
can
be altered. People
can
change. I’ve seen this too. I know how to do it. I know how to make the world smile. If just for a day.

So I figured the world needed a hero today.
And a little bit of magic.
Because that can be enough to change a person, for the better.
Yet despite the fanfare that would ring out from this moment, I knew it was a mere token.
I knew that one hero could not cure the world.

I knew that
I
could not cure the world.

That’s
your
job. It’s your turn now.

Know that you don’t have to be trapped in the person you are today.
Tomorrow you can be a different person.
Decide who you want that person to be.
Exploit your many selves.
Harness your altered states.
And change.
Believe. Strive. Live.
Most of all ... live.
It was my turn to live again.

That’s why when I knew the world needed a hero today, I figured it didn’t need to be me. I didn’t need the acclaim. I was happy to slip back into the shadows. I’ve been in them so long I think they’d miss me anyway.

Shaking myself from my reverie I was just about to move from the wall I’d been perched upon when a twist to my story presented itself that I really wasn’t expecting.

‘So, do I get the exclusive?’
The voice came from beside me. I turned to see a young woman standing there.
‘I think you’ve missed him,’ I said, nodding across the street.
‘No,’ she said shaking her head. ‘No, I haven’t.’ And she hopped up beside me onto the wall where I was still sitting.

I turned and looked at her face. I didn’t recognise her, but at the same time she wasn’t totally unfamiliar. Somewhere deep in my memory her face registered a chord.

‘Do I know you?’ I asked, figuring that was a good way to address the conundrum.
‘Not as well as I know you.’
Her words were not threatening. I struggled a bit longer to tap my memories, but then she put me out of my misery.

‘A long time ago, there was a girl in a bar, drinking with her college friends. She wanted to become a journalist, but she was lacking in self-confidence. Then a mysterious man starts talking to her. Makes her see things differently. Changes her outlook. Changes
her
. Just a little.’

I remembered her now. It was a long time ago. She was a nice girl then and had grown in to a pleasant woman now. Otherwise I might have been more concerned. But I was still perplexed. How was she here now? I expressed my confusion with a deeply puzzled brow and asked the question.

‘How ... do you know who I am? How have you managed to track me down? The US intelligence couldn’t even do that. Not for a long time anyway.’

‘Ah, well,
they
weren’t looking for the right thing.’

‘How do you mean?’
‘They were looking for the pebble. I was looking for the ripples.’
‘Go on.’

‘Someone who touches so many lives as you, leaves their trace in those people’s thoughts. And thoughts aren’t so private these days. A couple of decades back it would’ve been different, but today many wish their lives and thoughts to be public domain. Not you, of course, but some of the people you’ve helped. That day, after meeting you, what do you think I did?’

I shrugged. ‘Tell me.’

‘I wrote about it in great detail in my online journal. I figured that if this is what you did with your life, mine wouldn’t be the only anecdote buried in the web. It was pretty tough tracking any down, because there was no common theme, until I recalled your opening question, and that was the link I needed. So I managed to track a few people down, asked them a few questions, found out a little about you, figured out a little about your movements.’

‘You should be a detective.’

‘Ha, I am now. After six years as an investigative journalist I became a straight investigator. Don’t worry; I don’t really know much about you at all. Just something happened recently which made me realise you were in New Meadows. I have no idea what just happened in there.’ She nodded to the Rock Hotel. ‘But when I saw you here, I figured
you
might.’

She smiled at me with a wink and I smiled back knowingly.

‘I don’t really expect an exclusive. I know you’re not the media-darling type. I just wanted you to know ... just wanted you to let one person say it to you ...’

‘Say what?’

‘You
are
a hero.’

I paused for a moment, staring ahead.

‘Thanks,’ I said as I hopped off the wall. ‘I appreciate it.’

Then I walked away. But after a few paces I realised something. I realised that I wasn’t that person any more. I didn’t need to be the person who walked away. I turned around and took a few steps back toward her.

‘Aaron,’ I said as I offered a hand.
‘Mila,’ she replied, refusing the hand and opting to give me a hug instead. It was good to be back in the real world.
I scribbled some details on the back of one of my various fake business cards and handed it over.
‘Here. Give me a call and I’ll give you your story. Just not right now. I have someone to go see.’
Thirty-Eight
 

Cure

 

 

 

Once again I found myself standing at the entrance to the hospital ward. Only this time it was different. In many ways. Firstly, it was different because I was not alone. The small hand of a young girl was pressed firmly into mine.

I’d had more time to get to know that girl. I’d learnt that she had only inherited my skill to read people, as this was the only one that was a reawakened latent ability. Not my abilities to change people. So I was still the only dentist in town. But I didn’t think that mattered. I felt that I would find my cure here anyway.

No doubt I would have stood at the entrance much longer with apprehension. But not everything was under my control these days.
Pearle tugged me forward impatiently.
‘Come on, come on,’ she said, in the way kids do when adults need bringing into line.

Her eagerness was understandable. She hadn’t seen her mother since she’d been taken from her. I’d told Felicity that it wouldn’t be safe to bring her here until I’d done what I’d needed to.

We reached Gemma’s bedside and Pearle climbed up onto the chair beside it to put an arm across her mum’s chest and kiss her on the cheek.

‘Hello mommy,’ she said softly. She looked up at me. She wasn’t sad or concerned. I’d told her what to expect and I’d told her everything would be okay. And she knew I meant it ... of course.

I pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed to Pearle and leaned in to Gemma’s ear.

‘Thanks for waiting,’ I whispered. ‘It’s time for you to wake up now.’

As I pulled away I looked at Gemma’s peaceful face. It was completely flat and emotionless to everyone, but I caught the tiniest of muscle movements and I knew what it was. It was a smile from deep inside.

Nobody else would have seen it. But
I
did.

I always do.

Epilogue
 

Buried

 

 

 

 

 

www.
pauljnewell
.com

/
altered
states

/
epilogue

 

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