by Travis Borne
27. Thought Energy
“I’m just a regular dude, Jerry, just like anyone else,” Rab began. “It started early, I guess. My dad bought me a puzzle book and I solved every one. I was always good at math too, which quickly led me to coding, which in turn landed me a programming job when I was fifteen. I was just—” He raised his beer. “—fucking good at it, my thing I suppose.” Jerry happily toasted. “I was so good they even let me take my pet rabbit to work—inside their clean and fancy building.”
“Pet rabbit?” Jodi asked. “Cool.”
“Yeah, had too, my mom said she’d fuckin’ kill it. But he was my bud. Radar Rabbit. He was huge, too.” The idea of his mom killing it smacked the group as odd, but he just continued on. “Anyway, and for my own reasons, I started experimenting with drugs early on: acid, shrooms, angel dust—anything and everything, mixing it all together. Still worked though, coded every day for years, did good, really good, made a pile of money. Then one day I ate this plant called Angel’s Trumpet—long story in itself really—but mixing that with the other stuff. Well, let’s just say I way overdid it. The drugs eventually caught up to me. Yeah, I’d say I was fairly normal before that—the bad trip, it fucked me up. Royally.”
“Whoa, shit, Rab,” Jodi said, leaning in.
“And when I say bad trip, I mean spaced-out mind-fuck from hell. It was weird, really weird—can’t put it into words.” He wobbled a bit, slurring, feeling the buzz.
“What was it like?” Jodi asked. All could tell she was deeply interested.
“Well, Jodi, remember when I first hired you, what I required above all else?”
“Honesty.”
“That’s it. Then you told me why you’d gotten fired. That you occasionally code while smoking marijuana. You said it opens your mind, allows you to come up with great ideas and solutions to your programs.”
“Right,” she said. “And you surely surprised me by saying the opposite of my last employer. But the problem for me was, being able to bring ideas back from that zone before they got lost forever, recording them quickly before they got obscured by others. The Pro-Con solution, I use it occasionally, it solves that problem completely. I don’t need to be a note taker any longer—” She pointed to her head with a finger. “—it all stays right here and ready when I need it.”
“Yes. You step outside the box, risk it by switching a few wires around with that drug, and another, to discover what provides you an edge. You know, Jodi, I must say you’re really unleashing your potential and I see how you like pushing the boundaries of your creativity. You are the best coder on the team—even better than Jon. Of course, no disrespect, Jon.”
“None taken, I already knew it, Rab,” Jon admitted. “She’s amazing.”
Rab continued, “Now, let us imagine a brain that got completely rewired. I mean—” He downed a shot. “—you guys don’t really want to hear this shit.”
“Yeah, man, it’s good stuff,” Jerry said. “Did coke with my ex-wife but always needed too much to feel anything. No surprise there, I guess. She ended up going overboard and stashing it from me, so I just gave it up. Glad I did actually. But it was nothing like your shit.”
“It’s early, Rab,” Jon said, “sure, let’s hear it.”
“Well, I did go overboard, way fucking… Let’s just say I saw sounds, and the sounds got scary, freaky, really fucked up. Later I could see my own emotions, just spinning around my head like a galaxy. I could literally reach out and grab one, and when I did, I would feel it instantly. I reached with my hand, this hand, and grabbed—SAD: and I started crying. I grabbed—HAPPY: and I started laughing; they were all right there, spinning, like a hurricane above my head. And things looked beautiful—an understatement. Bright colors, changing shapes, flowing, weaving—then churning bending twisting contorting. I forgot what planet I was on. But it wasn’t just the acid that day. I combined it all, every fucking thing and it took me right down the rabbit hole like a boat plunging toward its doom in a whirlpool. It got weirder, scarier, and more horrifying with every second. Then time stopped and—” He hesitated with a sigh. “—I remember every single detail of it. Most I want to forget, but can’t, ever.”
“You never told me this, Rab,” Jon said, mesmerized like the rest. Even Leti understood, vaguely; but the way he talked piqued her interests more, his cool, among other things. Those just getting to know him noticed his unique personality; it was always the first thing, highly magnetic. And there too, he became the center of the hub. He dove into his thoughts while the discotheque raged below. They watched him go away in his mind.
“Drink break,” Jodi said, trying to stir the state of repose. They all gulped away—leaving one eye on Rab. A moment of silence continued. Throbbing woofers discharged massaging bass, laser lights slashed cigarette smoke—the dance floor was packed, the bar was packed, the stage was packed, and now, people were stage diving—but things went silent for him; Rab’s ears heard nothing—he remembered.
“Rab,” Jon said, nudging his friend, “you there?”
“I’m here,” he said, and blinked himself out of it. “You know I’m glad I came tonight. Thank you, Jon. It feels good talking to people, real people for a change.” Suddenly and oddly right back to where he was, he turned to Jon. “I’ve kept a lot of this bottled up, Jon. Anyway, since the big trip I’ve been able to see things differently. Everyday normal things appear to me—it’s as if everything is in coding. And my solutions to the code are lucid from start to finish, no matter the distance in between.” Rab turned to Jodi. “When you get ripped you dwell on an idea, digging deeper and deeper. Sometimes you might find the secrets to the universe, or think you did. But now, for me, it’s all the time, with everything, like awareness on steroids, and everything is a puzzle that I can solve. Some puzzles are simple, some take—a year. It took me about ten months to cope. Bad anxiety, panic attacks, flashbacks. The scary mind-twisting returned frequently like a mower in my brain tossing wires around. Neurons in knots. Got to the point I could no longer control my thoughts. I couldn’t handle the new way in which my mind was joining ideas. I lost my job, about lost it all, even my marbles for a while. I was completely—and totally—mind fucked.”
“That’s damn terrifying, Rab,” Jerry said. “But you don’t have to warn me twice. Ain’t messing with that. I stick with beer. But glad you’re all right now, man.” He raised his beer and took another swig (half a beer for him).
Leti pretended to know what they were talking about. She had been touching Rab under the table; one foot out of her heels. Rab was deep into his memories and for the first time, letting it all spill out. He didn’t even notice. The words activated his memories, unnerving him slightly, but he knew he had to remain strong and unafraid.
“You look fine now,” Jodi said. “Well, except for staying cooped up in your lab all the time—and lately—we haven’t seen ya in weeks. But how’d you recover from that? It sounds terrifying.”
“Well, I was about to check in to a nut house—but then, right before I completely lost it—I had a dream that changed everything.” He paused, looking out the glass at the dance floor below. Security was doing half their best to break up a cat fight; two girls were tearing at each other’s clothes. But the story was interesting enough and held the attention of the group; although Jerry couldn't help himself but to rise and sneak a peek: breasts bounced out as shirts were stretched to strips. The raucous cheering forced the DJ to turn it up. “Right before I fell asleep one evening, I had a moment of extreme clarity,” Rab continued. They leaned in. “It was like no other time in my life—” He turned to Jon, thinking briefly of DAY ONE, the project, something he had to keep secret. “—I chose to look into my thoughts, and did so from a distance so to speak. I could sense everything around them in ways I cannot describe to you. As though my thoughts were a mere shadow floating in a higher dimension and I could reach around them—like holding a beach ball. I felt connected to everything, at peace—finally. The more I
focused, the more I could focus, more peace, and the clarity increased until I began to fall deep into—no other way to explain it really—the rabbit hole. Well, to make this short, I took my thoughts to a special place. What seemed to me at the time, and still does really—the real world, one of thought, like the ideas themselves were forms of energy. And the farther I traveled the clearer things became. The focus and clarity compounded exponentially and I found myself in a tunnel of pure energy. I could think anything, and know it, take my focus anywhere, and feel it, through and through—my eyes opened, for the very first time. It was natural, it was as real to me as this world where we sit together now, and it changed my life.” Rab paused again, as if reliving the experience. “To myself, because I never told anyone else about it, I named it Thought Energy. I believe it to be the real true world beyond this physical plane. It has always been there and always will, while our temporary place here will eventually end—” He clapped his hands together. Everyone at the table blinked and jerked back. Rab laughed. But he realized that he needed the clap most of all, to rein in his thoughts; because he felt it again. Jodi, visibly taken aback by the story, was unable to speak. She obviously couldn’t get enough.
“Damn,” Jerry said, “that’s deep, Rab.”
“Really, Rab,” Jon said.
“Maybe it was a moment of enlightenment, something, who knows. Maybe my mind was repairing itself from the damage I’d done. Anyway, from that moment on it’s like everything bad in my head—was good. From then on, what was a curse, as a result of my bad trip from hell, is now a gift—and I use the fucking hell out of it.”
“I’ll attest to that,” Jon said. “He works twenty-two hours a day, seven days a week, with only two short naps.”
“More than two, Jon,” Rab replied. “Like I said, just a regular dude. Don’t exaggerate.”
The group was in awe after hearing the story, except Leti, still flaunting her sex appeal, but she played it off well. For her Rab might as well have been recounting an old campfire tale. She didn’t speak English well enough to fully grasp his story. It didn’t matter anyway, she wasn’t there to do much talking but occasionally had to do some waiting or acting. It was one of those stories that would make anyone say: this guy is a complete nut. But, coming from Rab, and the way he expressed himself, there wasn’t a doubt.
The talk went quiet; the sounds of the club took over and their heads and feet moved to the rhythm.
“What about you, Jerry? How’d you and Jon meet up?”
“Well, Jon came by to pick up some of your orders. We just started talking and hit it off, then he told me about this place and we’ve been here a few times now. A bit far but we rent the limo, make an adventure out of it—and I think the chicks dig my style.” He said it with a head-back grin while tugging his collar. Jon laughed. Jodi shook her head and smiled, and with that Jerry finished an entire beer and slammed the bottle down. “So, what’d you do with all those toys anyway? One of each, damn!” They all had a laugh and knew he was joking.
“Well, it wasn’t that many, shit,” Rab replied. Jerry shook his head. “The girls surely liked them. We fucking used them, what else? Until Jon got his hands on them.” Jon shrugged his shoulders; Jodi angrily bumped him. But many knew it, no secret; much because of the gadfly Tim Tench and his inflated news reports. Yet Rab had no shame in telling the truth; it was one of the reasons people were drawn to him. Also had anyone else told a story like that earlier, it would have been called nonsense within the first minute, but they believed Rab not only because of his blunt straightforwardness, there had to be some crazy out-of-this-world reason for his mind-boggling success.
The channel changed, refreshingly. The gang laughed for a while at sex jokes. Jerry spilled a bucket load; he was full of them and they were insane. Then he went on about details of the new shipment he just got in. Agape, Jodi was surprised at the things some people do with their bodies, although it obviously spiked her curiosity a little; she nudged Jon a couple more times.
A pause came over the table after a full hour of bonding talk. The group got along well. The club was primed: good feelings in the air, great friends, and a perfect buzz that demanded some motion.
28. Blue-gel Teeter-totter
“Well, who wants to make a fool out of themselves already?” Jerry asked, checking the dance floor, half standing up, knowing very well he couldn’t dance for shit—but as always, he didn’t care. There wasn’t a ton of space, but he’d make some all right. “Dance?” he asked Leti, holding out a gentleman’s hand.
Rab picked up on her vibe; he noticed everything: a world in coding. She glanced to him after the question, likely getting his hint—not interested. She beamed a wide smile and gladly accepted the dance with Jerry. After extinguishing her menthol, she accompanied him, a man nearly twice her height, into the pandemonium two levels down.
10:30 p.m.
By now the energy was a full-frenzied liberation of inhibition, an eruption of a week’s worth of quotidian normalcy; the last day of life and tomorrow doesn’t matter. The crowd: a chaotic yet concise depiction of not just past and future, but all time pushed aside, making room for only one moment, the present.
“Whoa, think I’m getting a little messed up myself by just sitting here,” Jon said. He shook his head a few times to dismantle the sedimentary buzz. “Jodi, how about it? Whataya say, Rab?”
“In a bit, Jon. You two go ahead.”
“You sure, Rab?” Jon asked.
“Yeah, I’m gonna kick it for a few. My head hurts a little.”
“All right, man, Jodi and I are gonna hit it. Burn off this buzz. Come join us whenever you want.”
Rab got up to let them out and Jon passed, appearing concerned. To dissolve any bad notions before they could multiply Jon didn’t outwardly display any negativity. He’ll be fine, Jon thought, just another one of his thinking moments. After tonight, he’ll be back to his old self. Jodi smiled at Rab as she scooched out: a friendly, caring, sunshine smile. Then, holding hands they left to join Jerry and Leti.
Rab watched them descend the worn carpeted steps. He felt an overwhelming sense of good feelings for them as a couple—something else for later, he thought. Right away they started dancing in the space Jerry had so easily stolen. The lumberjack was having a blast, living in the now. The way it should be, Rab thought, watching for a while.
Jerry stood out like a giraffe and although he really couldn’t match a beat to his movements, no one cared. He quickly became the center of attention. He gave high fives—hunched-down versions—to those cheering him on, somehow learned perfect Spanish, and made friends with ease.
Not long after, Leti took another glance upwards at Rab. And his eyes met hers; he looked away. He knew he was not interested, not this time. It’s almost time, Rab thought, I have to get a handle on this.
The battle raged on, a mere segment of the larger war always present in his mind; like a pulsar energetically spinning and atomically accurate, yearning at the chance for imbalance; a sphere of fuzzy electrified yarn, every color, flavor, and texture; reckless, violent; strands randomly lashing out, escaping like solar flares that slash the inside of his skull. Although he’d learned how—it wasn’t always for sure. He shielded the insanity from escape, forcing it back to prevent all-out unrestrained madness—but nevertheless doing so left scars, shocking psychotic lacerations. The real fear, the anxiety—that state of mind; he tried to deny it, act like it was a thing of the past, but it had never actually left.
The recollection of memories; it was the first time he’d spilled it like that, to other people anyway, defining it with words. In a way he’d always known he’d have to face it. And he wasn’t afraid to talk about it, so that was a good thing, right?
But as he watched his friends dance, the siphon of satisfaction dried up and the pain worsened. It originated in the back of his skull—the dream factory—putting pressure on his rational grip. He winced, tucking in slightly, then defiantly stood up firm. He
thought about his breathing. No. He held his breath, and pushed. The lights and crowds and smoke. The words reconstructed it, resuscitated it—NO! I can’t stop it!
Julian walked by and couldn’t get his attention so eventually just left.
Rab’s gaze fixed itself about the flux generating before him. With his feet rooted into the raunchy floor, he stood with his arms at his sides—his half-full beer fell, adding to the disaster that was the carpet. His eyes jerked suddenly then relaxed and floated. The massive group of people, their arms waving to the beat: smiles, laughter, bouncing, swaying people—the entropy of it all. The colors started to merge into a soup that rolled from one side of the club to the other like the wave in that blue-gel teeter-totter on Nancy’s desk. He fought to retain an image of reality, anything. Music came in from the edges, surrounding the soup, entrapping it progressively with each pulse. Bass merged with treble and beats dove into the in-betweens. Twisted low-toned humming and distorted pounding fingered its way into the beautiful lights, clouding the mix with a terrible ambiance. The first invasion was always the sound, marring the light to darkness. Emotions lingered on the outskirts of it all, waiting for their own turn, next.
“No!” he blasted it away, roaring—suffocated lungs injected with roids; the nuke of an outburst bounced off the glass wall. It ensnared plentiful attention. Around him they laughed, joked amongst themselves, told each other secrets: look at the weirdo, the freak standing over there by himself.
Anxiety reared its ugly face, hissing at him from atop his left shoulder. Rab swatted him away. Whispering ensued around him, blending with the hiss. He continued rearranging his thoughts, lassoing them back, mentally repairing the damage. He’d done it before and since had always been able to. But he felt something. He’d felt it before—before things happened, big things. His thoughts briefly questioned each other, a change coming? He could never put a finger on it, but ever since he’d learned to—for the most part—control his rewired and fucked-up mind, he could sense things. His mental balancing act included insights he was only beginning to understand.
