Upon agreeing to his conditions, I was asked to focus on the wall to my left. It was empty, except for a long whiteboard. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I didn’t question him. Mr. Gordon instructed me to close my eyes.
“When you truly believe anything is possible, you will be able to open doors where there were only walls. You may reopen your eyes.”
And when I did, I flinched at the sight of the wall no longer empty. A closed door boldly stood in the middle of the wall, splitting the whiteboard in two. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. That door had not been there before! I did notice that.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’ve created a special room for us so we can avoid distractions.” Mr. Gordon walked over to the door and held it open for me, inviting me over.
I laughed to myself, knowing I had to get used to surprises. I got up, took my backpack and walked over to the mysterious doorway. Stone steps descended in a spiral. A pulsating ghostly glow came from somewhere far below.
“I had no idea this school had a basement,” I said.
“It doesn’t,” Mr. Gordon said, amused, and his answer didn’t surprise me this time.
I entered the stairwell and Mr. Gordon followed, closing the door behind him. The stairwell was covered in shadows and now the only light was coming from below. It descended farther than I would’ve imagined.
The stairs led to a dungeon-like room. The light came from a circle of twelve floating orbs, centered above an ornate wooden table surrounded by four matching chairs. The orbs reminded me of the ones I had seen in my dream. The smell of some kind of incense wafted through the room. Not how I would have imagined a dungeon to smell.
“There’s not much here,” I said. There were no instruments of torture or shackles on the walls, which was a good sign.
“I know; this room is our blank slate. You can change it as you see fit, but without bringing anything in with you.”
“Well, that doesn’t leave me many options.”
“Let me remind you to forget what you think you know. You have unlimited options. Take a seat,” he said. As he approached the table, the orbs above pulsed brighter.
“I like the smell in here.”
“It’s lavender. I find it calming,” he said and the aroma seemed to intensify, not so much that it became overpowering, but entrancing.
I settled into my chair and tried to get comfortable. I found it to be surprisingly so, even though it had no cushion. We looked at each other awkwardly for a long minute, and I began to regret my decision to wander down the road leading to this dungeon.
“Let’s establish what you know and what you believe,” Mr. Gordon started. “A belief would be something you think is true, but of which you don’t have firsthand experience; it’s based on faith. Something you have firsthand experience of is something you know to be true, no matter what anyone else says. No one can talk you out of or convince you against something you know to be true. But someone can change your mind on a belief. Throughout your life, your beliefs will change, but what you truly know will remain constant.
“Right now, what you think you know about the world around you are actually beliefs. You thought you knew that instantaneous healing through the power of thought was impossible. Until about a half hour ago, you knew that to be true. You believed it to be true—as do most people—but you found out that you actually didn’t know that at all. You are now one of a select few who know that instantaneous healing through the power of thought is possible and accessible.
“Let me make one thing clear. Nothing we talk about in our sessions together is restricted to an elite few or people who were born special. Everything we talk about is accessible to anyone who can think for himself.”
“You’re still just a regular person?” I asked.
“You and I both. This is not magic. But like I said on the first day of class, it may seem like magic to those who are unaware. You are not one of those people anymore. You’re now aware of the tip of the iceberg, and we’re going to swim under the water and see how deep the iceberg really goes. And it goes deep—so deep that I haven’t even found the bottom yet. You’ll see,” Mr. Gordon laughed to himself. “I know a decent amount of things, but I’m far from knowing everything. When you think you’ve learned everything, you’re just fooling yourself. An ignorant man thinks he knows it all. A wise man is aware of how little he actually knows.”
I fidgeted in my seat, absorbing as much as I could.
“So if I want something, I can just think it into being?” I asked, trying to open my mind.
“That is exactly right, even though it seems impossible now. I’m going to leave you with something to go home and think about, something that will pave the way for our next lesson. When you think about what you believe and what you know, also think about eliminating doubt. When you know, you have no doubt. So when you think about these now seemingly impossible things, convince your mind to know that they are possible. And that means zero doubt.”
“And how can I do that?”
“Silence the voice in the back of your mind that questions everything you do—the voice playing the devil’s advocate.” Mr. Gordon scratched his forearm, the one he had cut and healed. His fingernails left skin irritation lines across his arm.
“The voice and I have become close over the years. It’s pretty hard to just cast out a friend.”
“It’s not your friend, believe me. Peacefully silence it and, in time, it will go away. When you can successfully eliminate all your doubt and find inner peace, you’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish.” Mr. Gordon took a deep breath and placed his glasses on the table.
“If you can heal yourself whenever you want, why do you need glasses?” I asked, a question that carelessly escaped.
“You don’t like my glasses?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well, that’s what I’m hearing.”
“Okay, never mind.”
Mr. Gordon chuckled at my frustration. “I don’t feel the need to change everything about myself just because I can. I’m at peace with who I am, my appearance, and my imperfections.” He paused and took out his cell phone. “It’s probably a good time to stop.”
Mr. Gordon rose from the table and waited for me at the entrance to the stairwell. I reluctantly got up and took one last look around the haunting room before going up the stairs. The orbs dimmed as we left.
When I opened the door at the top of the stairs, I was hurled back to reality. The classroom was bright and empty and the door to the hallway was wide open. Mr. Gordon walked past me and stopped at his desk to gather his personal belongings. I turned back, only to see that the mysterious door in the wall was gone. Suddenly, I felt like I had just awoken from a dream. Mr. Gordon looked like a regular teacher again, and I was back to the monotony of endless homework assignments and girl anxieties.
I looked up at the sound of a knock on the door and saw Vice Principal Adams standing in the doorway.
“Ah, Daniel. I was hoping you’d still be here. May I have a word with you?” he asked politely.
“Of course, Mr. Adams. Oliver, good job today and I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Mr. Gordon said and quickly turned his attention to his unexpected visitor.
I greeted Vice Principal Adams on my way out the door, and he closed the door as soon as I had both feet in the hallway.
It had been a long day and I spent my long walk home in quiet reflection. My doubter’s voice was already chattering away in my head. What had I witnessed today? Had Mr. Gordon performed some elaborate illusion, and there I was naively impressed like a kid at his first magic show? I had doubts—a lot of them. I was so overwhelmed and excited about my after-school session with Mr. Gordon that I had pushed this morning’s discovery almost completely out of my mind. A simple ghost story was tame compared to what I had witnessed with Mr. Gordon.
By the time I turned onto my street, my stomach was growling ferociously. I f
elt too weak to jog, so I power-walked the rest of the way home. A beautiful cherry-red 1960s Camaro sat parked against the curb in front of my house, and I knew it was someone here for Jeremy.
I barged in the side door and stopped cold.
Jeremy and Leslie—my Leslie—were standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counters across from each other. Their conversation stopped due to my interruption.
“Do you mind?” Jeremy said, his eyebrows low and pushed together.
“Don’t worry, I’m just passing through,” I said while focusing on Jeremy so I wouldn’t glance over at Leslie. But I couldn’t help myself. Her tank top looked even better from the front.
Jeremy broke into a huge grin. “I’m just messin’ with you. Meet Leslie.” His aggravated façade vanished. He sounded braggingly overjoyed. “Leslie, this is my little brother, Oliver.”
“Hi, Oliver,” Leslie said, and her voice sounded so sweet.
She was actually looking at me! Talking to me! And I couldn’t respond. The words wouldn’t leave my head and make the grueling journey to my lips.
“Oliver, don’t be rude. Say ‘hi’ to our lovely and gorgeous guest.”
“Oh, stop it!” she said, biting her lower lip.
“Fine, then say ‘hi’ to this hideously disfigured intruder. Be sure not to look directly at her.” Jeremy laughed.
Leslie shot him a look that would’ve turned me to stone. He didn’t even flinch; he just kept right on laughing.
“Hi, Leslie. It’s nice to meet you,” I said finally, talking slowly and focusing on not stuttering.
“Hey, you look familiar. Are you in one of my classes?” she asked.
She recognized me! Sort of. “Yeah, chemistry,” I said quickly and turned back to Jeremy, afraid I was staring at her. “Where’s Mom?”
“Errands,” he said.
Having had enough discomfort for one day, I left them in the kitchen. They were out of sight, but not earshot.
“And, my dear, it’s about time for you to get going,” Jeremy said.
“You’re kicking me out so soon?” she said in a cute, manipulative schoolgirl voice.
“Sure am. I’ve got things to do.”
I marched into my room, threw my backpack on the floor, and collapsed on my bed. I had dreamt of her being in my house from the first day I saw her, but not like this. In my dreams, she definitely wasn’t here to see Jeremy. It was just like Jeremy to bring home my girl. It’s not like he even knew I liked her. Well, he probably did now. But that was usually what happened; he lived my dreams without even realizing it.
After a few minutes, I heard the slam of the front door and assumed it was safe to come out of isolation. I moped my way back into the kitchen and looked out the window over the sink. They were talking just outside the courtyard. It was probably a little invasive to watch, but I couldn’t look away. I was terrified of what was coming, but I had to see it for myself. I knew watching them wouldn’t make me feel better, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Jeremy put his hands around her waist and pulled her into him. Leslie brought her arms up over his shoulders and kissed him.
I definitely didn’t feel better—actually, a little sick—and clumsily backed up until I hit the counter. I grabbed the granite behind me with both hands and flexed all the muscles in my arms.
Jeremy followed her down the steps to her car. It didn’t take long before he bounded up into the courtyard and gleefully pranced through the front door. “Not bad, eh?” he asked, seemingly unable to remove the stupid smirk from his face.
“I can’t believe you.”
“What? I didn’t do anything.”
“I know, that’s just it. She’s the girl I’ve been fantasizing about since the first day of class.”
“Who’s the girl I see you around school with?” Jeremy asked.
“Who, Desiree?”
“I guess so. What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing. It’s not like that. She’s got a boyfriend.”
“That’s not as much of a problem as you might think.” Jeremy gave me a sly grin.
“Like I said, it’s not like that,” I reiterated.
Jeremy leaned against the counter across from me, and we stood quietly for a few moments.
“How do you do it?” I finally asked, plagued by curiosity.
“What did you do the first time you saw Leslie?” Jeremy asked back.
“I stared at her.”
“From afar?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s pathetic and predictable,” he said, amused.
“We were sitting in class—what was I supposed to do?” I tried to justify my actions, or lack thereof.
“Here’s what I did: I immediately walked up to her and said, ‘Hi, you look like an interesting girl I’d like to get to know.’ Do you know why you do it immediately?” He didn’t wait for me to blurt out a wrong answer. “Because you don’t get a chance to second-guess yourself and get nervous. The longer you wait, the more likely you are to never speak to her. If you don’t approach in the first three seconds, you’re done. Okay, so, after I said she looked like an interesting girl, she responded, ‘You mean hot, right?’ And I said, ‘No, interesting.’ Then she looked at me all offended, but didn’t walk away. She stood there waiting for me to apologize, but I had no intention of doing that. She was already on the hook, so I just continued talking and kept her interested in the conversation until she grew interested in me, which didn’t take long.”
“Naturally.”
“Of course, naturally. Everyone stares at her—that’s like stamping ‘loser’ on your forehead. Don’t do that. Do the opposite of everyone else. That’s how you get the girl.”
I understood, but following his advice was another monster to conquer.
I went to bed that night with a lot of questions and anxiety over what was happening in the dark while I slept. That was the first night I dragged Frolics into my room to sleep, even though I felt badly about it at first. He wasn’t the bravest dog, but he would do. He was asleep and snoring before I was able to close my eyes. Ignorance is bliss.
In the morning, everything was as I had left it the night before, or so I originally thought. The smudge on the wall, from me trying to erase the enigmatic message from yesterday, was gone. I guess TJ liked our room clean.
“Hi, Oliver,” Leslie said the next morning as she passed between Desiree and me.
Desiree looked at me in pure wonderment. “What did I miss?”
“What can I say?” I said with a shrug.
“How did you finally build up the courage to talk to her?”
“I had to stop being pathetic and predictable and do something about it.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Oliver I know! Who are you and what have you done with him? I want my friend back!” she exclaimed sarcastically.
“Whatever.”
“I’m kidding. You deserve to get what you want. I’m actually proud of you. The drooling wasn’t getting you anywhere.”
“Thanks,” I said. Not able to bring myself to tell her what actually happened, I let her continue to believe I had courageously initiated a conversation with Leslie. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever done.
Later, I felt calm going to my gym locker since I knew Sasha was still suspended. As I changed into my gym clothes, I looked down the aisle and saw that the guy with long brown hair wasn’t there, either. It was a relief, but still I changed quickly.
In gym, we took the day off from baseball. It didn’t bother me since I associated playing baseball with being a leper quarantined to the outfield. Instead we ran the mile. I walked. By the end, most of the class was drenched in sweat while I remained comfortably dry from my leisurely stroll through the park. Coach Andrews said that I wasn’t living up to my potential. I couldn’t help but to laugh. Yesterday, Mr. Gordon showed me my potential. And trying to break my best mile time was simply not a priority.
I sauntered back to the locke
r room when class was dismissed and got changed. Thinking about the conversation with Mr. Gordon, I had to find a way to eliminate all of my doubt. I had to convince myself that I could eliminate my doubt. It was a hard thing to accept. It was scary to believe that the world wasn’t what I had believed it to be my whole life leading up to yesterday. Everyone else I knew was still in that place, and here I was passing them by on some journey that seemingly had no horizon.
As the guys around me finished changing and left, emptying the aisle, I came to notice someone sitting on the bench at the far end. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guy with the long brown hair.
My heart jumped into my throat and started beating feverishly. Is he the only one here?
He turned to look at me and had a strange, almost sad look in his eyes.
Sasha and Greg came out from behind the corner and stood next to him. With no one between them and me, there was no one to obstruct their advance and nowhere to hide.
I felt all the dread in anticipation of this moment come flooding back to me. I had the urge to run, but couldn’t. I felt like a deer in the presence of hunters, frozen in place, waiting to be shot between the eyes. My knees trembled and my palms grew clammy.
“Surprised to see me?” Sasha said. It wasn’t really a question.
I didn’t speak because my answer would’ve escaped as girlish squeaks or incoherent stuttering. I tried to exude a quiet strength.
“I didn’t like you before, but now...I’m in a lot of trouble, which makes you in a lot of trouble.”
I heard more and more lockers closing like the climax of popcorn cooking in the microwave—and then the pops quickly trailing off. The remaining students scurried out of the locker room.
“I’m not going to play nice like I was before,” Sasha said, holding his hand out to the side. Greg slapped a flathead screwdriver into Sasha’s palm. “I’m gonna make you bleed, Nut Grain.”
Sasha walked toward me with a deadly focus, and I backed up until I hit the wall behind me. I flinched at a sharp pain that shot through my head as it collided with the wall.
Provex City Page 6
