Paragon- Ghost Hunters

by Freddy Milton

  ”I thought that took place at the administrative level?”

  ”It happens, but you can’t foresee all parameters. If we as alumni can come up with obvious parental candidates, they admit some influence on the choice of location. Of course you can’t always get the first priorities met, so therefore, you submit a list of priorities. And, quite often, the final allocation falls between the three or four top choices in order of priority.”

  ”What determines one choice over another?”

  ”There can be language skills or knowledge of the environment or educational ties.”

  ”So you get reborn under similar circumstances, but at a more challenging level?”

  ”Yes, it’s definitely one of the options. If we imagine a researcher in biochemistry interrupted at a critical moment in his career where he stood on the edge of a breakthrough in his research, there’s the prospect that he can more easily get ahead in this subject area in his new life, if he’s reborn within the known research environment. Management can choose to respond to that.”

  ”What would be the reason for not meeting such a desire?”

  ”It may be that the soul needs new challenges. Perhaps the soul has learned as much as you deem necessary at that level. You then decide to give the soul some different challenges within a new field of operation, in a new existence.”

  ”Is it especially here that there can be divided opinions on the fairness of the new position?”

  ”Precisely. A soul can not always grasp what it really needs in a future life. That is much easier if there is a kind of continuity between generations.”

  ”Such as a son who is able to finish the research that his father was unable to complete?”

  ”Exactly. That usually leads to a smooth acceptance at all levels. A positive predictability, so to speak. Everyone is happy. And if the family has put a lot of effort into that field, and perhaps has experienced a few setbacks on that account, it feels just and proper.”

  ”Why should it not happen if the option is available?”

  ”Because continuity, fairness and justice are not always the necessary challenges the soul needs. Perhaps one has to face adversity and injustice in order to realize where the real values are. You only realize that afterwards.”

  ”With such reasonable terms of management, what in your opinion could explain why an entire college would collectively choose to emigrate?”

  ”It’s totally incomprehensible to me, and especially since we’ve not heard rumors about it on beforehand. Big plans like that are difficult to keep secret.”

  ”But I’ve heard of internal unrest and widespread dissatisfaction with certain rebirths?”

  ”That’s true. Many souls are reborn at a lower incarnation level than would be desirable, but it is due to the imbalance in the collective soul mass of Earth at this time.”

  ”Hm... Did you notice anything unusual during that fateful night?”

  ”Yes, before I went to rest I noticed some loss of light while different sounds from elsewhere on campus could be heard. I just thought it was a late night party.”

  ”I see… Thank you. And thanks for the tea.”

  ‘Paragon rose. It made soul #3773 rise, too.

  ”Don’t mention it. Should it be some other time...?”

  Paragon went over to the empty dormitory. He had agreed to meet with a consultant, he had summoned. She waited for him at the entrance. Together they went inside the ward.

  It was strange to move around through the deserted and abandoned rooms where the souls went round daily and discussed their previous existence and aspirations for the future. On the whole, souls behaved as they did on Earth. Experience had it, that the ability to adapt to the coming earthly life was accelerated if the souls in a period before being born again found themselves in surroundings reminiscent of Earth, and so it had been chosen to use this governance model.

  Paragon let the guest lead the way during the tour of the empty rooms. It was a respected ultra-clairvoyant, Miriam Blunt-Parker, who had extensive experience with spiritual vibrations, and Paragon could remember a Sherlock Holmes story in which a knowledgeable medium had helped an investigation get under way. Now she walked around the rooms to intercept remaining mental fluctuations coming from the missing souls.

  ”Do you pick up any signals?”

  ”It's hard. It is confusing. It carries through so indistinctly. I have to go one more round.”

  Miriam went searching around, with hands half raised and palms upturned, she arrived at a place, where there a double window appeared.

  ”It's as if something has happened here. Something disturbing. Perhaps there have been different energies coming into the college at this location.”

  ”Different?”

  ”Yes, in a way threatening, but also enticing. Some souls here have been unhappy with their terms and have been waiting for another kind of chance. Others have been influenced by the psychic powers of an unknown nature.”

  She opened the window.

  ”Yes, many souls have come through here. I can hear the sound of the blast from them during the passage.”

  ”What has become of them?”

  ”It is indistinct. As a rule, I can sense if they are around here or in the intermediate layer, Limbo, where restless souls who have not found peace are located.”

  ”But they are not there?”

  ”No, they seem secluded. There is a barrier or encapsulation that prevents signals from coming out, or to protect them from any other connection.”

  ”But is it turmoil?”

  ”Yes, or confusion. A concern. Distrust. Anxiety. Regret.”

  ”Is there anything else?”

  ”A restlessness I cannot place. Something aggressive, violent, final. Something with a strong decision. Despair.”

  ”Does it involve the lost souls?”

  ”It's just in their vicinity. Something with violence, oppression, suffering, humiliation, and/or resignation.”

  Miriam sounded convincing standing there in her big black dress and half-closed eyes with raised arms listening to the faint signals.

  ”Can you get any closer?”

  ”Closer? No, now that you mention it. It’s more distant. Very distant in fact. There will be something approaching. I don’t know what it is. It is progressing. I wonder why it keeps coming up.”

  ”What?”

  ”A word. Cassiopeia.”

  Chapter 5

  WEAKNESS

  ”What are you writing?”

  Maja was always curious.

  ”Does it matter?”

  ”You seem to think hard.”

  ”Do I?”

  ”Yes, as if there’s something you can’t figure out.”

  ”I guess you’re right. I need to make up a story.”

  ”I'm reading a story right now.”

  ”You can’t read.”

  ”Marie read it to us in our kindergarten class. With the pictures, I can remember it all.”

  Maja came over to Anders and sat on his lap. She flipped through the picture book and told the story as she looked at the pictures and turned the pages. She pointed to a picture of an old house.

  ” The old woodcarver, Geppetto lives here. It’s in the old days, far away.”

  ”Yes, the man who wrote the story was from Italy, and the old book is very thick with a lot of chapters.”

  ”I’M, telling it!”

  ”Oh, sorry.”

  ”Look! Geppetto makes his little wooden doll, which he names Pinocchio. He’s a doll maker. He has a lot of dolls in his shop, which move with strings just like the blue-green hairy monster I have, you know.”

  ”Yes, I know.”

  ”Geppetto puts the doll down and goes to bed. But in the night a little cricket comes into the house. Don’t forget him! He’s a special person in the story.”

  ”Aha. I'll try to remember him.”

  ”Yes. Do that, because he’s very important.”

  ”At night the
Blue Fairy comes into his room. She waves her magic wand, and makes Pinocchio come to life. She thinks old Geppetto deserves to have a son. Pinocchio isn’t really alive yet, though. To become a real person, he has to know what is right and wrong.”

  ”I believe in that.”

  ”Right! To do that you need something called a conscience. Some characters know about these things, like the cricket. The Blue Fairy asks him if he will become Pinocchio's conscience. He promises to do that. But he's pretty small, so it's not so easy for him.”

  ”I can imagine.

  Maja turned the pages and told what was happening in each picture.

  ”Pinocchio starts to go to school. But, the sly fox and his cat friend are waiting behind the corner. They know that a wooden doll that moves by itself is something special.”

  Maja looked over her shoulder and up at Anders with a sly glance.

  ”The crooks want to sell Pinocchio to a man with a puppet show, so they get Pinocchio to go with them.”

  ”Pinocchio probably wanted to be famous?”

  ”He did. But he got trapped in a cage by the puppet man. Then the Blue Fairy came back and helped him out.”

  ”That was nice of her.”

  ”Yes, but Pinocchio was still a kid. They don’t always know the right thing to do. They don’t always listen to grownups. Sometimes they don’t tell the truth. If Pinocchio lies, his nose grows, and it can get very long. But Pinocchio has that little critter with him, to help him to remember to do right things. See? Here he is again.”

  ”He's not very big.”

  ”No, but Pinocchio's conscience isn’t bigger. The cricket has trouble getting Pinocchio to do the right thing. It's hard for kids, ‘cause bad things sound like they are a lot more fun.”

  ”You’re probably right.”

  ”But, the bad guys from before find Pinocchio, and make him skip school and run off to a land where you can play all day and get everything you want. You can do bad things there, too! See? He breaks a window.”

  ”Uh, oh! That’ll be trouble.”

  ”Yes! The children are turned into donkeys who have to work in the salt mines. But Pinocchio escapes before he gets all the donkey parts. He has donkey ears and a tail, but the rest looks like him. When he’s sitting waiting for Geppetto, a white dove brings him a letter saying that Geppetto was swallowed by a whale in the ocean.”

  ”Sounds incredible.”

  ”Yes! But that's how fairy tales are. Pinocchio saves Geppetto, and he’s a hero.”

  ”Then what?”

  ”Then the Blue Fairy comes again. She makes Pinocchio into a real boy. After all, saving his father is doing something good. Story over! The End.”

  Maja slammed the book shut.

  ”Well, what was the best part?”

  ”The land where all the bad kids get turned into donkeys.”

  ”I thought that was the worst part.”

  ”Yes, but the best, too.”

  ” If you were Pinocchio, would you go straight to school like Geppetto told you?”

  ”Well, I’m not Pinocchio. He was a wooden doll. And they don’t think much.”

  ”No, you’re right.”

  ”Now you can go back to your homework. Sorry I wasted your time.”

  ”You didn’t waste my time, Maja. You gave me an idea to write about.”

  Anders’ class’ topic for their new monthly writing assignment, was an essay on 'Weaknesses'. He could have gone in various directions, but Maja had shown Anders the way. Pinocchio was weak. He had to be able to use that idea for something. He had become aware of how the story should be.

  'There was supposed to be no trespassing, but people came anyway. The temptation was too great. The rumor about the great feeling of happiness gained there was appealing. When were you actually happy? Had you ever experienced happiness? Most people had to answer 'no'. It would be nice to try. Something new and great one might live on for a long time.

  It wasn’t hard to get into the city. There was almost no control. Stopped by a patrol, the question put to visitors, whether you were an adult, or not, was if your decision to come had been made seriously, and that such a visit was your own responsibility. People usually knew in advance of the trespassers’ coming, and allowed it to continue.

  Some had come back and told about it, but not many. Most people actually stayed in the town after coming there, and there may well have been a reason for that.

  Philip had looked forward to the time when he could get into the city, and as soon as he had become a grownup, he took the bus there. He had to walk the last stretch. There were plenty of warning signs along the way. 'Be careful, you are now on the road to 'Ecstasy'. Turn back in time', or 'Entry to Ecstasy''. All traffic is your own responsibility', or 'Last chance to turn back’. Use U-turn at the square 200 meters further on'.

  This was obviously superfluous. People who ran in the direction of the city had already decided to go and see what it was all about.'

  Anders had been a little apprehensive writing an essay with that idea. Some might wonder where he had picked up that idea. Obviously, it was because he had an alcoholic mother. Still, Anders was not sure they knew much about it in his class, or they just didn’t mention it, ……at least not to him. Should the issue come up, his classmates would be kind enough not to take it out on him. Of course, Anders was the one really hurt the most by it. His friends and other classmates wouldn’t knowingly worsen it. His classmates were kind in that regard. After all, he sometimes helped them out with their homework.

  He submitted his story. This time there was no limit to its length, which was probably on purpose. Their teacher wouldn’t prevent them from letting their imagination run free. And Anders took advantage of that. It wasn’t just a duty for him to write that essay. He’d gotten so much more out of it. The teacher also noticed that, as Anders learned, when a few days later they got their essays back with comments.

  ”This is an excellent story you have written, Anders. Congratulations! Very thoughtful and full of symbolism. Have you dreamt it all up on your own?”

  Mr. Rasmussen, his teacher, was thrilled. But that was not the first time. It’s nice to experience a teacher who can be thrilled. Others got similar kind remarks as well. If he only praised Anders, there could be problems.

  ”I saw something in a movie once.”

  ”Yes, it’s hard to come up with something new. But there is something disturbing about the mood of the adventure, and these types of adventures are usually the best.”

  He even read something aloud. He rarely did that.

  'I was picked up by a woman who was heading towards the city.

  ”Are you going inside to find happiness?”

  ”No. I’m going there to try to find my son, Paul. He must be there. He said he would try to go there, and he hasn’t come back.”

  ”Then he probably chose to stay there.”

  ”I’ll try to persuade him to leave. I have to do that.”

  ”How old is he?”

  ”He’s only 16. That seems to be the age limit there.”

  They passed another sign.

  'It is forbidden to bring drugs out of town. They are highly addictive. All responsible citizens are encouraged to turn back and leave the district.'

  We drove into town; it was clean and nice everywhere. Over the speaker, you came to know where the next party was and where you could get free samples of the narcotic, for which the place was famous.

  ”Let’s drive over there. Maybe my son is there.”

  At the entrance, you had to show your bracelet. We had nothing, so the guard told us the rules.

  ”Addictive substances are distributed there. I must strongly advise you not to attend.”

  ”Thank you, we’ve been warned.”

  ”As you wish. Here you go.”

  A girl handed us a sample.

  ”You will need this.”

  ”No, thanks.”

  ”But it will solve all your problems. You
’ll feel free and happy.”

  The woman had caught sight of her son.

  ”He's over there.”

  We went over to him.

  ”Paul! I am so glad to see you. Come on, let’s go home.”

  The boy turned to them.

  ”Don’t worry, Mom. This is my new home. I feel good here. I’ll never leave this place.”

  ”You can’t stay here. You must leave.”

  The mother grabbed his arm.

  ”Let me go!”

  He spotted me.

  ”Is he your new boyfriend?”

  ”No, I just picked him up on the way. You have to go home and go to school.”

  ”Don’t bother me. I don’t need that here. I’m an adult and allowed to make my own decisions. Get out of here!”

  ”No, come on, Paul! It’s not too late.”

  The two started arguing, and a few guards showed up, so we had to stop. We were taken to the guard’s office, where the guard commander confirmed the situation.

  ”Your son is an adult here in this town. If he wants to remain here, we cannot do anything about it. In fact, everybody wants to stay here.”

  ”But he’s an addict. He is too young to know better.”

  ”There are warning signs everywhere before coming here. No one can ignore them.”

  I had a comment.

  ”If the special ingredient I have here is so dangerous, why is it not illegal?”

  The guard commander had heard the question before.

  ”Earlier, we had a drug problem in the city. We tried to punish both the sale and use, but it made little difference. The rules were stricter with imprisonment and humiliation, but nothing helped. Some just want to get high, so we invented an artificial drug, legal, powerful, addictive and cheap. Then we got to them.”

  ”What then?”

  ”The payment for the substance is that you have to work in the city with all kinds of services. You've probably seen how clean it is here.”

  ”But they live like wild animals.”

  ”We are all animals. People have different motives. This is their choice. I can see how happy they feel. How dare you stand outside and judge them saying their lives are worthless? They have no worries. They have found the answer that works for them.”