Sean leaned forward in his chair.
“It is more a situation where she can give you an answer to a question because her mind perceives that the question will be asked of her and an answer given to her in the future. The anomaly is that the question she will be asked—for the answer she can give—can be asked either in the following few seconds or minutes, or even an infinite time later. It seems this time frame varies greatly with her. This whole process is a rare type of extra-sensory perception, a super-advanced version of it, if you will. But what makes Raine very different from the others is that because she has this ability to have extended beforehand knowledge of a question, she can look for the answer to a question well in advance to prepare for the time she will be confronted with it.”
She paused. “Does that make any sense at all to you? When I hear my own words, it makes me wonder if I understand it. When you first mentioned this particular aspect of her gift, my first reaction was to have her tested further. But there aren’t any known studies or level of testing that would tell us much, given the rarity and extent of her perception. This type of testing needs to be developed, but it’s hard to justify the cost of research when such a small number of people display this type of perception.”
“Look,” he said. “I don’t pretend to understand this at all. I try to keep it as simple as possible. And thank you, you’ve done a good job at keeping it that way for me. I try to equate it to an event that’s happened with her. Like when she knew that Chinese custom before I told her. I assume I am correct in making that comparison?”
“Yes, exactly.”
She sipped her wine and took a deep breath. Listening to Noelle and seeing how intently she spoke was having an effect on Sean he couldn’t fully put into words.
“A few days ago I was reading in a journal about a man in Mississippi—no, Alabama—who had a gift that was somewhat similar to Raine’s.” She paused, shook her head, smiled, and then continued. “No, not really nearly the same, but at least related to the same concept. This gentleman was a farmer, uneducated, not as intelligent as Raine—not even close, for that matter. But this man, I think his name was Randolph, had an uncanny ability to simultaneously verbally simulate words and sounds of other people and even the sounds of animals. Not in the sense of being an impressionist. What I mean is he could mimic anyone or any sound—not after it was spoken or after he heard it, as a parrot learns to do, but as it was spoken and as the sound was made, simultaneously. And in the same volume, inflection, and tone.”
“I’m not following you,” Sean confessed through a yawn.
“What I mean is he could, as I am talking to you right at this moment for example, say the words I am saying along with me at the time I say them, speaking simultaneously with my words, and in fact, with any sound that comes out of my mouth, with every volume and inflection of my voice.
“I remember seeing a clip from the research where Randolph was invited as a guest to a late-night show on the same night when Jerry Lewis, the comedian, was also a guest. I think it was on Johnny Carson, or…or who was another late-show host? Further back?”
“During the research for one of my books, I studied some of the older hosts. Was it Dick Cavett?”
“No—”
“Jack Paar?”
“Yes, maybe him. Anyway, you know how Jerry Lewis can make those funny, goofy sounds—not words you know, but sounds and gestures only he can make?”
Sean smiled. He thought of Friday night movie time with Raine. “Yeah, I seem to remember some of his routines. One of Raine’s favorites is The Absent-Minded Professor.”
“Yes, I love that movie also. Well, this Randolph man could duplicate every nuance, every sound, and every word Jerry was saying at the exact same time Jerry said them. Not a split second after, but at precisely the same time. Jerry freaked out and tried everything in his power to trip Randolph up, but he never succeeded. No one could have scripted this or memorized the routine. It was, frankly, amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Until now?”
“Yes, in a way, but not in the exact way. At any rate, the same concept applies.” She yawned and shook her head. “Where Raine differs is that she knows the outcome of events because at some time in her future she will be exposed to knowledge of them—as odd as that sounds. But unlike this other guy, and based on what you’ve said and my own observations, she seems to know what will be said days, weeks, months, even longer in advance. I don’t think she could simulate the sounds, like this other man did—at least the tests didn’t indicate that ability—and I don’t think she can foresee the future, unless of course it is to be later verbalized to her in some way. But it is an extremely powerful gift.”
“My God, Noelle.” Sean shook his head. “That means some of the stuff she knows today might not be known to anyone else for years. Look, I don’t get it. How? Why did this happen to Raine?”
“I don’t know. Believe me, I wish I did. This is another example of how little we do know concerning the human mind and condition, in general. You hear all the time how we use a small fraction of our brain and its capabilities. Maybe, for some genetic reason, the part of the brain that is capable of these kinds of special gifts is being chemically stimulated in some manner. We don’t know the answers or even a fraction of the answers.
“But now you know what’s been keeping me up at night lately.”
There was a long silence.
“Let’s pray no one ever gets in a position to exploit her condition for the wrong reasons,” Sean said. Noelle shook her head.
“Exactly. We can’t let that happen. Sean, we have to protect her.”
“Should we be doing this interview in the morning?”
Noelle sat quietly for a while.
“I’ve given it all a lot of thought. I don’t think Raine’s gift can be hidden away forever. I think it’s better if we control her ‘coming out,’ instead of allowing rampant speculation concerning what she can and cannot do. Maybe this way, she can have her fifteen minutes of fame and then things will settle down. If the public can see her as just a darling little girl, maybe they won’t make her out to be some sort of myth—or monster. Hopefully, she will become old news quickly, and you and she can get on with your lives.”
He walked toward her, motioning to his empty glass. He looked at her empty glass.
“Yes, please.” She handed him the glass.
At the bar, he stopped and turned to Noelle.
“I’m trusting you on this, Noelle. I think it goes without saying I am not comfortable with any of it.”
After an uneasy smile, she looked at her folded hands but didn’t offer the reassurance he needed to hear.
****
It was an unseasonably cool May morning in the city. They stood on the sidewalk, trying to stay warm. Sean fidgeted against the cool breeze, waiting for the limousine that would take them to the studio. Raine circled him, playing the dizzy game, laughing and humming some new, unknown tune. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to see her behaving as if she hadn’t a worry in the world. In less than an hour, they were scheduled to go before millions of people all over the world for three minutes, which to him seemed more like three hours. And yet she skipped happily around him, humming and getting dizzy. It did little to ease his anxiety to look at Noelle. Her arms were folded against the chill, and she was in constant motion.
She turned toward Raine. “What’s that tune you’re humming, little one?”
“I don’t know.” Raine continued circling and humming.
Sean, like Noelle, had managed only to pick at breakfast. Raine had eaten like a wolf, as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. He only hoped she wouldn’t “beep” on national television.
The limo arrived, right on time. Charles, the driver from the day before, walked around, opened the door, and tipped his hat. He had another big smile on his face. Good mornings were exchanged.
“Daddy, how many more hours until we go to the play?” Raine
stepped into the limo, holding Noelle’s hand. He followed the ladies, averting his eyes from the doctor’s superbly shaped posterior. Her sleek business suit looked as if it was sculpted around her.
“Twelve hours, sweetie.” He held out his watch, but little Miss Jumping Jack was distracted by the interior of the limo, as Charles entered the vehicle.
“I trust you all slept well?”
“Yes.” They all responded at once, causing Raine to giggle.
“I slept with my lion last night. Man-oh-man,” she whispered, her mouth flying open. “This is a big car.”
“Yes, it is, Miss Raine. And I’m so glad you are enjoying Mr. Lion,” Charles said and moved the limo effortlessly through the traffic.
A dozen people could have fit quite comfortably in the luxuriously appointed white limo. Before they could take it all in, they arrived at Global Studios, no further away than a couple of blocks. The whole trip took less than two minutes. The bright red news ticker, outside the entrance to the studio, reminded the populace of tension in the Middle East and the arrival in New York of an Israeli diplomat. The driver opened the door and helped the ladies out, then pointed to a door where a young woman stood. The woman approached and then hurried them to the door. She introduced herself as Paula. Sean missed her last name. She greeted each one of them by name and welcomed them to New York.
Inside, Paula led them down several halls past offices and equipment rooms, by a break room with tables and vending machines and into a room lined with comfortable-looking chairs, two loveseats and a sofa.
“This is the Green Room.” She indicated fresh coffee and pastries, as well as a refrigerator she said contained soft drinks and juice.
Sean couldn’t imagine eating or drinking anything at the moment. Noelle looked as if she might throw up. Raine asked if she could have a doughnut and a Coke.
“I think that might be too much, sweetie,” he answered. “Let’s wait a while.”
“Okay,” Raine whined but never lost her smile.
Paula asked if there were any questions. When none were offered, she stepped to the door and looked at her watch.
“We’re running a few minutes behind. The segment for Senator Blane, which is right before yours, hasn’t started yet. He’s running late. He should—” Before she could finish her sentence the door swung open and a rotund man in a dark suit, white shirt, and red tie strutted in. Behind him was a young woman with thick, horn-rimmed glasses, dressed in a business suit. She held a notebook close to her face and spoke to the senator as they entered the room.
“You have Representative Mullens at ten, Senator Wiggins at eleven before lunch with—”
“Excuse me, Senator,” Paula interrupted, again looking at her watch. “You’re on in three minutes.” She then turned to Sean. “And Miss Sampson is on in eight minutes.” With that she turned and disappeared through the door.
“Thank you, Miss Weinguarden.” The senator flashed pearly whites. Sean found it amusing the senator remembered Paula’s last name with little difficulty. The senator shushed his assistant’s regurgitation of schedule and walked over to the loveseat where Sean and Noelle sat. Raine fluttered around the room. The senator introduced himself and shook hands as if campaigning. When told they were from Alabama and Florida and not constituents, the senator lost interest and found a seat across the room. Sean turned to Noelle as Miss Bouncy tracked the senator down and struck up a conversation. The senator seemed pleased at the attention and asked Raine questions that were lost across the room.
“Are we ready?” Noelle asked.
“I think so.” He focused his attention on his daughter, while she continued jabbering with the senator, before turning back to Noelle. “It certainly appears that Raine is. Doesn’t seem like she’s worried much at all. Never a stranger, huh?”
Noelle looked toward Raine, and the smile left her face. Sean followed her stare across the room. The senator paled. His mouth flew open, and his arms were animated. He stared at Raine as if she were a ghost instead of a three-year-old. Sean thought the man might be having a heart attack.
“Young lady.” The senator’s tone darkened. He stood and moved away from her, as if she were the plague. “How did you—where did you hear that?”
At that moment, Paula leaned inside the door. “Senator, you’re on…sir, are you all right?”
Sean quickly retrieved his daughter. The senator’s aide had not moved from her seat. She stared at her boss, her mouth agape. After a moment, the flustered man regained his composure.
“Give me a moment,” he snapped at Paula, then turned to Sean. His voice was low and threatening. “I don’t know where you got your information, sir, or why you have poisoned this young child’s mind with such fiction, but I don’t appreciate this outrage at all. I will be in touch with you, sir. This conversation is not over.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Sean demanded, tightening his grip on Raine, who clung to him like glue. He made a move toward the senator, but the man quickly stepped away toward the door. Before leaving the room, the senator pointed to his aide. She continued to look at him as if seeing him for the first time. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Not a word of this to anyone, Susan. I mean it.” He then looked first at Raine and then Sean and wagged his finger at them. “And get these people’s names.”
****
The next minutes were some of the longest of Sean’s life. A few moments after the senator left, the aide sat dumbfounded, ignoring the senator’s instructions to collect names. Instead, she pulled a cell phone from her purse. Her hands trembled as she exited the Green Room and punched numbers as she left. Raine’s lip trembled as if she might cry.
“Honey, are you all right?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened, sweetie?”
“I don’t know,” Raine muttered, and lowered her chin.
“Honey, you’re not in trouble. Daddy’s just curious why the senator was so upset. Quite honestly, sweetie, I’ve never trusted that guy anyway. He seems like a shady character to me. What did you two talk about?”
After a long silence Raine looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “He’s a bad man, Daddy.”
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Noelle asked.
“He—”
At that moment, Paula opened the door again. “You guys are up.” She waved her hand frantically for them to hurry. “The senator had an emergency and couldn’t do the interview. We have a minute and a half to get you into place before the break is over. Is everyone ready?”
Paula forced a smile and ushered the trio hurriedly out the door, between cameras and over thick cords and wires, to their places on what she referred to as the curvy couch. In a few seconds, they were joined by the three hosts of Global This Morning, who were introduced simply as Margie, John, and Bret, before going live. A man with a clipboard walked out onto the set and began a countdown.
“Eight, seven, six, five.” The rest of the countdown was silent, indicated by his diminishing fingers. Everyone became still except for Raine, who dangled her legs against the couch front. The man with the clipboard and headphones pointed to Bret.
“Welcome back.” Bret smiled into the camera. “And now as promised, this morning we have some special guests with us, all the way from Ono Island, Alabama. And one of these guests is a very, very special little girl from China. And let’s see if she’ll tell us her name. Wait, let me guess. Is it going to rain today?”
The camera zoomed in on Raine, who smiled, waved, and then giggled. There was no sign of the tension from the events of the last several minutes. Sean glanced at a monitor. His little ham was back, and a natural on camera.
“Bret, you have to like this little one already,” Margie Mason retorted and smiled at Raine. “She’s the only one I know who actually laughs at your jokes.”
“I do like her.” Bret turned back to Raine, then to the camera. “This, ladies and gentlemen, is the young lady you’ve been hear
ing about all morning. Miss Raine Sampson. Raine, how old are you?”
“Three.”
“Three years old?” John Jackson echoed.
“Well…” Raine rocked in her seat. “Three years, two months. and six days.”
“My, my, you seem to have your age down to a science. I guess what they say about you is true.” Bret raised his eyebrows. “Raine, they tell me you’re good at tests, too.”
“I guess.” Raine shrugged toward Noelle.
Noelle licked her lips.
“And who are these guys with you?” Bret asked.
Before Raine could speak, Margie chimed in. “I can tell you who the good-looking gentleman sitting next to this lovely lady and darling little girl is.” She smiled warmly. “That is Sean Sampson. Sean is the author of several best-selling novels. Isn’t that true, Sean?”
On the monitor a graphic displayed front covers of two of his biggest sellers, with his name inscribed across the bottom.
“Well, yes.” He picked imaginary lint off his pants, buying a few seconds to think through a response that would shift the focus back to Raine. “But I’m also this little girl’s dad. And I’m very, very proud of her.”
“And we’ve all heard a lot about this little girl,” acknowledged John. “And everything points to this cutie pie being a very smart child.”
“We truly have heard a lot. And apparently she is a smarty-pants,” Bret said. He then directed his attention to Noelle. “With Sean and Raine is Dr. Noelle Victor, a well-regarded child psychologist who has a practice in Pensacola, one of my favorite towns in the great state of Florida. Dr. Victor, I understand Raine did well on some tests you gave her down there in the sunshine state recently?”
Time for Raine Page 10
