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energy?"
"Everything
is energy, Teague. Accept it, work with it. How you direct energy and redirect
it and block it or absorb it is how you move through the world healthy or
unhealthy."
When
I was in police work, I was accustomed to attempted rapes and animal attacks,
but not by people I couldn't see and wild animals who were really people.
Callie would say no more about the energy field, but she did seem
uncomfortable, as if holding something back. I wasn't in the mood to let
anything ride.
"So
what's the energy between you and Manaba? Even I can feel that."
"Manaba
and I were once very connected spiritually." Pause. "We've had what
you might call...a cerebral affair," Callie said, taking my fear and
frustration to a higher level.
"A
cerebral affair? Is that like you mentally wanted to sleep with her, but you
didn't because you were too busy thinking about it?"
"It's
more like a very elevated version of a romantic friendship."
"Which
is what women had in the 1800s—the hots for each other but fought it for
economic reasons."
"Love
is intensely aligned energies, and our mental energy was intense.. .sort of a
melding of our minds."
I
was getting more pissed and hurt by the minute, and tired of what I considered
esoteric bullshit.
"Mind
fucking is what I call it. It goes from fucking someone in your mind to, hey,
would you mind fucking? So if you're so hot for this, this—" I was
searching for the most scathingly negative word I could find because Callie's
having a Vulcan mind meld with anyone made me insane, and I started to tear up.
"It's
over," Callie said. "And I didn't have to tell you."
"Hey,
I always appreciate the truth," I said, giving her a small dig for
constantly goading me about truth. "Don't you think I could see it? When
she first saw you she was salivating all over her muskrat moccasins."
"I
didn't know you then," Callie said, ignoring my fashion barbs.
"I'm
referring to now." And I stormed off, mentally analyzing if I'd had
virtual sex, cerebral sex, or any other kind of non-touch sex with anyone in my
life and concluded I hadn't. Probably because I tend to have physical sex
instead, I reasoned. But if I do decide to have cerebral sex I can
guarantee it won't be with anyone whose idea of great threads is sinew socks.
"Is
that what was going on in the fire at the ceremonial site," I shouted over
my shoulder, "your energy moving together, because it looked like sex to
me." There, I'd said what was on my mind.
"What
happened in the flames was pure imagery, not sex. Manaba doesn't use her powers
like that. Could we call a halt to the jabbing?" she asked and suddenly
put her arms around me from behind, stopping my verbal stomping.
Turning
to embrace her, I wondered if this is what living together would be like. Right
now, I didn't care. Worn out from the energy it took to wage a good sarcastic
battle over several hours, I was maxed.
"When
I went over to talk to Manaba at the ceremonial site, I asked her for her
grandmother's exact time of death, and she told me it was November 21, 1997 at
4:23 p.m. I remembered reading about her grandmother's unexpected
transition—the entire community was in mourning over Eyota, meaning 'the great
one.' Her time of death at 4:23 adds up to nine. She died on a spiritual
number, and of course the number nine signifies distance, a faraway trip. The
online accounts said she died of heart trouble, but Manaba thinks her
grandmother's passing wasn't accidental."
"So
why doesn't Manaba come out and say that in front of me and let's get to it?
Too high school for me. If the woman wants help she should speak up or let us
alone. Did you ask her for Nizhoni's time of death too?"
Callie
perked up, very happy I was speaking her language.
"I
did. Manaba didn't know to the minute when she was killed. I could only get
within a couple of hours." The computer graphics spun, and numbers
appeared and adjusted and reappeared. Then the strange astrological wheel that
looked like a
"Everything
is energy, Teague. Accept it, work with it. How you direct energy and redirect
it and block it or absorb it is how you move through the world healthy or
unhealthy."
When
I was in police work, I was accustomed to attempted rapes and animal attacks,
but not by people I couldn't see and wild animals who were really people.
Callie would say no more about the energy field, but she did seem
uncomfortable, as if holding something back. I wasn't in the mood to let
anything ride.
"So
what's the energy between you and Manaba? Even I can feel that."
"Manaba
and I were once very connected spiritually." Pause. "We've had what
you might call...a cerebral affair," Callie said, taking my fear and
frustration to a higher level.
"A
cerebral affair? Is that like you mentally wanted to sleep with her, but you
didn't because you were too busy thinking about it?"
"It's
more like a very elevated version of a romantic friendship."
"Which
is what women had in the 1800s—the hots for each other but fought it for
economic reasons."
"Love
is intensely aligned energies, and our mental energy was intense.. .sort of a
melding of our minds."
I
was getting more pissed and hurt by the minute, and tired of what I considered
esoteric bullshit.
"Mind
fucking is what I call it. It goes from fucking someone in your mind to, hey,
would you mind fucking? So if you're so hot for this, this—" I was
searching for the most scathingly negative word I could find because Callie's
having a Vulcan mind meld with anyone made me insane, and I started to tear up.
"It's
over," Callie said. "And I didn't have to tell you."
"Hey,
I always appreciate the truth," I said, giving her a small dig for
constantly goading me about truth. "Don't you think I could see it? When
she first saw you she was salivating all over her muskrat moccasins."
"I
didn't know you then," Callie said, ignoring my fashion barbs.
"I'm
referring to now." And I stormed off, mentally analyzing if I'd had
virtual sex, cerebral sex, or any other kind of non-touch sex with anyone in my
life and concluded I hadn't. Probably because I tend to have physical sex
instead, I reasoned. But if I do decide to have cerebral sex I can
guarantee it won't be with anyone whose idea of great threads is sinew socks.
"Is
that what was going on in the fire at the ceremonial site," I shouted over
my shoulder, "your energy moving together, because it looked like sex to
me." There, I'd said what was on my mind.
"What
happened in the flames was pure imagery, not sex. Manaba doesn't use her powers
like that. Could we call a halt to the jabbing?" she asked and suddenly
put her arms around me from behind, stopping my verbal stomping.
Turning
to embrace her, I wondered if this is what living together would be like. Right
now, I didn't care. Worn out from the energy it took to wage a good sarcastic
battle over several hours, I was maxed.
"When
I went over to talk to Manaba at the ceremonial site, I asked her for her
grandmother's exact time of death, and she told me it was November 21, 1997 at
4:23 p.m. I remembered reading about her grandmother's unexpected
transition—the entire community was in mourning over Eyota, meaning 'the great
one.' Her time of death at 4:23 adds up to nine. She died on a spiritual
number, and of course the number nine signifies distance, a faraway trip. The
online accounts said she died of heart trouble, but Manaba thinks her
grandmother's passing wasn't accidental."
"So
why doesn't Manaba come out and say that in front of me and let's get to it?
Too high school for me. If the woman wants help she should speak up or let us
alone. Did you ask her for Nizhoni's time of death too?"
Callie
perked up, very happy I was speaking her language.
"I
did. Manaba didn't know to the minute when she was killed. I could only get
within a couple of hours." The computer graphics spun, and numbers
appeared and adjusted and reappeared. Then the strange astrological wheel that
looked like a
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