Seer
Chapter 3

Jonathan

We’ve been at the park for a while, riding our bikes, then dropping them to the sidewalk and swinging on the swings. It’s fun to swing as high as we can, and watch the little kids steer clear of us so they don’t get kicked. Not that I don’t try.

I realize that I’m getting hungry. “Hey Gabe, let’s go get some lunch!” I leap off the swing at the highest point and fly through the air before crashing down on the sand, rolling over a few times before stopping. I lay there laughing, and look up to see Gabe just slowing his swing down to step off of it safely. “Chicken!” I laugh at him.

He smiles and shrugs, then comes over and gives me his hand to help me up. “Thanks,” I say, brushing all the sand off of my clothes. He grins and reaches over to my head and rubs my hair really fast, and a bunch more sand comes out of there. We both are laughing hard as we get back on our bikes.

I stop off at home to drop my bike on the porch, and poke my head in the front door. I yell “I’m going to Gabe’s house for lunch, okay?” I hear my Dad say okay, and I’m outta there before I hear anything else.

We walk up to Gabe’s, with him walking alongside his bike holding the handlebars so he doesn’t get too far ahead of me. When we get inside, his Dad says, “Oh, there you are! I was about to go looking for you guys.”

Gabe says, “We were at the park, but we came home because we’re hungry. When’s lunch?”

“Right now,” his Dad tells us, “Out in the backyard.”

I look out the window, and see Gabe’s Mom and sister, and that dumb special ed kid that she always hangs around with at school. Ew! He’s here too? They’re sitting down on the chairs out there, and there are some sandwiches and chips on a table. Well, fine, food is food, right?

Gabe and I head out with his Dad, and grab some sandwiches. I don’t want to sit with Natalie and her dumb friend, so we go over to the other side of the yard and eat on the wall at the back. I see that the little kids are paying no attention to us at all, just talking and talking, very quietly, with their heads close together.

After all the food is gone, Gabe’s parents take all the plates and stuff back inside. Gabe picks up a baseball and says “Heads up!” and throws it my way. I catch it, and we fling it back and forth a few times. Natalie and Timothy are still just sitting there talking. Why are they ignoring me?

“Hey Natalie, want to play catch?” I call out to her.

She looks up from her conversation with her dumb friend. “No, thank you, Jonathan,” she says in an annoyingly polite way. Pfsh.

“What about you, Timothy? Come on, you should do some guy stuff with us, not just sit around talking with a girl!”

Timothy just stares straight ahead. He is such a weirdo. I’m tossing the ball back and forth between my hands, and just as he is starting to look back over at Natalie I throw it at him. “Catch!” I yell.

Of course he doesn’t even try to catch it. What a loser. It actually bounces off his arm as he is trying to duck, with his hands over his head like he’s afraid of a baseball. I don’t really see what he does next, because Gabe comes over and punches me in the arm, laughing. “Come on, Jonathan, leave them alone. They’re just little kids.” He grabs the ball where it is rolling away from where it bounced off Timothy and throws it back to me. Fine, I guess we can ignore them too.

But we don’t need to - they’re already heading back into the house. Losers.

Timothy

Jonathan makes me so mad. Every time we are together he does something mean to me. Last year he made me so mad at school that I got in trouble for fighting him and had to get special ed testing. I guess that was okay, though, because now the teachers and people at the school make sure that I’m doing all right, and I can go sit in the office to calm down if I need to. As long as Natalie is with me I’m usually able to ignore him.

I think to Guardian while we are going back up the stairs to her room, “Guardian, what can I do about Jonathan being so mean all the time?” I know that I’ll have my answer after we close the door.

Natalie turns around and looks at me after she comes in. I can tell she is sorry that her brother’s friend hurt me again. “Are you ok? Does your arm hurt?”

I rub my arm where the ball hit me. “Not very much. I’m just mad that Jonathan gets away with stuff like that all the time.”

She looks to the side and I know she’s listening to Angel. “Angel says that Guardian wishes he could help you more. He says that Guardian is telling you that you are smarter and better than Jonathan, and that you should try to avoid him. He says Jonathan just isn’t a nice boy.”

“Well, duh,” I say grumpily, “we already know that.”

I sit down on the bed and cross my arms, then see the notebook where we left it. I pick it up and start checking the experiment notes. I’m thinking about the Guardians talking to each other.

“Angel, now that you guys can talk to each other, do you think you could talk to Jonathan’s guardian and ask him to try to make Jonathan nicer?”

I wait for Natalie to answer. After a minute she says, “Angel says that he’s already told us, guardians don’t try to make their humans do stuff. They are happy when their humans are happy, even if the human is doing something bad.”

“But,” I say, “I don’t think it’s always true that guardians don’t try to make their humans do stuff. Guardian just told me to avoid Jonathan, right? I know Angel has told you to do stuff before too. Just because they don’t usually do it, doesn’t mean they can’t. They don’t usually talk to each other, and we know from today that they can.”

Natalie waits for a couple of minutes, listening. “Angel says that you are very perceptive, like always. He says this is a new idea, and he and Guardian will consider if there is something they can do.”

“All right. I guess that’s good for now.”

Natalie’s

Guardian and I have both observed for years as Jonathan has tormented Timothy. Both Timothy and Natalie have attempted to enlist the assistance of their parents and even their teachers in curtailing Jonathan’s behavior. But their efforts have met with no success, and even with some mild disapproval.

Jonathan is uniquely gifted in his ability to manipulate those around him. He continues to project a deceptive impression of goodness to the adults in his life. They are thoroughly convinced that he is a lively, sweet, energetic, friendly boy. He is utterly blameless in their eyes, and this is very much by design. He has engineered this situation, in which he can engage in his baser instincts, while avoiding detection by any figure of authority.

As a result, when Timothy and Natalie have informed their parents or teachers that Jonathan has misbehaved, they are not believed, or at least they are believed to be exaggerating. Also, Timothy’s autism diagnosis gives the adults an easier explanation, than that the obviously delightful Jonathan committed some sort of mischief. Rather, it is much easier to believe that Timothy’s lack of social skills leads him to take offense too easily at what is probably normal behavior on Jonathan’s part. After all, the adults in his life have all witnessed him becoming overwhelmed in situations that most children can accept without difficulty. There have even been some mild reprimands of the children that tattling is not an attractive trait.

They have stopped trying to get help. It is a sad failing on the part of the adults, but understandable considering Jonathan’s deceptive talent. He has them all fooled.

It is troubling to watch the dynamic continue to unfold. Jonathan victimizes Timothy, Natalie does her best to insulate her friend, and Jonathan emerges triumphant. His soul glows with each encounter, growing stronger, and delighting his Guardian.

Timothy’s request that we talk to Jonathan’s Guardian about this is much more difficult than he realizes. The Guardian knows, of course, the ramifications of the actions of his beloved. When the children are in proximity, the thoughts of all humans and Guardians nearby are freely available to each of us. Jonathan’s Guardian witnessed our conversation with Timothy, and heard the request that we intervene to correct Jonathan’s behavior. And his Guardian derisively dismissed it as a ridiculous notion, knowing that there is nothing we could do to change the situation. The Guardian, like all of us, adores his own human. Jonathan’s soul glows with an unusually robust power, increasing in strength every day. His Guardian has grown to crave the cruelties that Jonathan inflicts, because it is so gratifying to watch the consequent magnification of his soul’s brilliance. Even the needs of my Seer, which most Guardians in her life have grown to prioritize nearly as much as those of their own Guarded, mean nothing to Jonathan’s Guardian.

Although we are Guardians, we are nearly as helpless as Timothy to prevent the ongoing harm that he suffers at the hands of the bully. I dwell sadly on the situation, unable to derive any solution. Guardian’s thoughts are along the same lines.

The afternoon passes peacefully, Timothy and Natalie having selected books from her shelf, and reading together in companionable silence. Natalie is propped against pillows on her bed, and Timothy is sprawled on the floor, absorbed in their respective books. Guardian and I watch in silence.

After a time, the children’s attention is diverted when Brenda calls from downstairs. “Natalie! Timothy! Timothy’s Mom is here. Time for him to go home.”

They discard their books immediately, their eyes widening, realizing that the moment has come for the experiment to commence. Timothy grabs the notebook and runs over the lines that both he and Natalie have written one more time, checking for any last minute additions that may be needed. He hands her the notebook.

“Ok, Natalie, you know what to do. Angel, listen hard. Guardian, come with me.”

Natalie grasps the notebook and nods eagerly.

With the determination of a general approaching a battle, Timothy marches down the stairs. “Hi Mom, I’m ready to go!”

Laura laughs “Well, ok then. Say thank you to Natalie’s parents for having you over.”

“Thank you,” Timothy calls, actually opening the front door himself and heading outside, single-mindedly focused on the unfolding experiment. The adults, of course, simply see it as another exhibition of Timothy’s unusual personality. Little do they know the import of the situation. Both Guardian and I are excited too, to be participating in something entirely new to each of us. We will learn much today as well.

Timothy’s

I am determined to execute the mission assigned to me with as much diligence as possible. Timothy requested that I maintain communication with Angel, that I “yell” all the way home to ensure that I am heard. I don’t know how to do this, having spent an eternity only whispering loving words to the humans I have Guarded. But I will make every effort.

When we enter the car, I address Angel directly. “I will remain in contact with you. Once we reach a distance of approximately one mile, I will attempt to increase my volume.”

“Very well,” Angel agrees. I hear the information being transmitted to Natalie, and see her beginning to take notes.

For the time it takes Timothy’s mother to drive the mile, I contemplate how to increase the volume of my communication. Of course, there is no actual volume. I do not create sound waves which can manifest in the environment. The communication of Guardians is not a physical occurrence. It is a thought, a feeling, a whisper. I have not considered before the mechanics of the process. I try to pinpoint the procedure: I have a constant flow of thoughts, and when I wish to whisper a message to my Guarded, there is an outflow of energy that makes this possible.

Having determined that this outflow of energy is what creates communication, I focus on that. When the car reaches some distance from the Seer’s house, I push as much of the energy as I can muster into my next words to Angel.

ANGEL. I HAVE INCREASED MY VOLUME. I WILL CONTINUE THIS COMMUNICATION FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE JOURNEY BACK TO TIMOTHY’S HOUSE.”

I hear Angel’s response, mingled with his uproarious laughter. “Yes, Guardian, it is working well, your volume has increased significantly and I can hear you very clearly.”

Natalie’s

I can hardly believe the success of Guardian’s efforts. The amount of power transmitted through the words of Timothy’s Guardian is so enormous that it practically blows me over. It is astonishing. It feels like a physical blast, something I have never experienced in my entire existence. Even Natalie notices, looking up from her notebook, when my appearance slightly fluctuates. “Are you all right?” she asks.

Yes, my dear, it is only that Guardian is yelling so loudly that it actually impacted me, almost physically. I have never felt anything like it before.”

“Is that good or bad?” she asks worriedly.

“I believe it is very good. It shows that Timothy’s idea for ‘yelling’ is a great success. We will see if it increases the distance at which I can hear Guardian.”

She returns to the notebook, frantically writing down what I have said.

Guardian continues “yelling” at me, and the power of the communication does not diminish with distance. Even after they have passed the point at which I would normally lose contact, I still hear the words with complete clarity.

I CAN NO LONGER HEAR YOU, ANGEL, WE HAVE PASSED THE DISTANCE FOR NORMAL COMMUNICATION. CAN YOU ALSO ATTEMPT TO INCREASE YOUR VOLUME SO THIS COMMUNICATION CAN CONTINUE IN BOTH DIRECTIONS?”

I quickly relay this information to Natalie, who continues taking dictation. I attempt to generate the same level of energy that Guardian had used, filling my words with all the power at my disposal.

“YES, GUARDIAN, I AM ATTEMPTING TO GENERATE MORE ENERGY TO TALK TO YOU. IS THIS EFFECTIVE?”

As Angel affirms that my words again are audible, Natalie gapes up at me, dropping her pencil. “Holy cow, Angel, you really are screaming! I didn’t know you could be so loud! Is it working?”

It is working better than we ever could have imagined, my dear. Timothy has taught us something new today, something very important.”

The communication continues, without diminishment, all the way back to Timothy’s house. Guardian and I, as long as we push energy into our words, appear to be able to communicate easily over a much greater distance than we had ever before believed possible.

The implications of this fresh discovery are marvelous, enormous, stunning. There is no telling the limits of this new ability.

And this has been brought about by the imagination and intelligence of two unusual children, our beloved little Seer and her brilliant friend.

What other revelations might they lead us to?

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