Soul Dancing with the Brass Band (The Brass Band Series) (14 page)

“George and I have been going out at night,
literally
going over the wall after everyone in our house is asleep. We started by walking the alleys around our neighborhood about a year ago. It’s amazing what people throw away these days, perfectly good stuff. That’s when we found the computer that our neighbors left by their trash can. Computers are a technology we don’t have inside our household because they are a distraction that pulls you away from discovery of self, but I must admit that we were excited to find one so easily.”

“It took us a while to figure out how to use it and one night the most amazing thing happened. We discovered if we sat close to the house next door, the computer would connect to the World Wide Web. We began by typing in subjects we’d like to know more about and eventually we got to be more proficient. We keep our computer hidden in a protected area near our house, but not near enough to be discovered by McCollum.”

“It took a while longer for us to figure out we could actually use the computer to look for you and Ruth. We didn’t have much to go on. As it turned out, I didn’t even have your real name,” he reminded me and winked to ease my guilt. “We found a number of girls named Chelsea, but none were you. It was a fluke we found you at all. George was the one that came up with the idea of looking for a Hillary after it came to him in a meditation.”

“Two weeks ago we saw the Fall Mixer poster on one of our midnight walks and thought it would be a nice place for a reunion with you and Ruth. Yours was the first email we’ve ever received on our computer. Please believe me when I say that we’re really not uneducated, just impaired technologically.” He laughed softly and the sound of his laughter made me breakout with goose bumps.

“Is that why we always get our emails from you in the middle of the night, because you and George have jumped the wall?”

“Yep, we’ve broken out, so to speak.”

“Are you over the wall tonight?”

“Yep, we’re over the wall tonight, too.” I could see mischief in his deep blue eyes. ”It’s not that we can’t leave. It’s just better that we set a good example for the younger boys. It’s important that our actions don’t interrupt their studies. This journey is meant for George and me alone.”

As the second half of the show began, Will said, “Come on, let’s walk for a while.” We turned and he took my hand to guide me through the crowd.

“It will give you a chance to think and decide if you’d like to see me again.” We walked to where two sidewalks intersected and took the one that headed away from the crowd, weaving through small groups of students along the way.

“I met my teacher many years ago. I was only nine. From the first time I laid eyes on him, I felt like I was home, like I had always known him, but from somewhere… I could never quite remember. When I was ten, my parents sent me to study with McCollum. It was the only thing I ever wanted to do. At first I visited my parents between terms, but as my studies required more and more of my time, my visits became more seldom. Now this is my home and it’s been years since I’ve seen my parents face to face. We write and love each other, but they know my life has taken a different path.”

I wondered how that could possibly happen because I couldn’t think of any circumstance that could keep me from visiting home, but then his next sentence began to explain.

“I guess you could call our house a monastery, but that’s not exactly correct either. We’re not monks.”

“George was already there when I arrived and we’ve been friends since the first time we laid eyes on each other. Over the years I learned that he is much more than a friend, although it is hard to explain.” Will took another slow deliberate breath and turned to face me.

“Imagine you’re a college student… that should be easy for you,” he said, trying hard to make sure I understood. “You’re tired at the end of a long day of classes, so you sit down on the couch in your apartment and gaze out the window at the sunset or maybe at the reflection of your face in the glass. When your roommate walks into the room sometime later, she asks you what you’re doing. Your reply might be something like, “Boy, I must have
zoned-out
for a while,” because you know much time has passed, but you also know that’s not exactly correct. You were floating, traveling somewhere beyond the walls of your apartment.”

“That’s what began happening to me at a very young age. The difference is that I found myself yearning to be in that other peaceful place all of the time, so I would let my mind go more and more often. My parents saw it as daydreaming; maybe even a touch of autism, but neither was the truth. I began to wonder if I was going crazy.”

“It went on like that for years and I kept it to myself because nothing like this was happening to the other guys. I had no one to talk to, no one who could help me understand what was happening to me. My father told me to snap out of it and my mother was quite worried. You see, to most people the world is a finite place. There is a beginning and an end to everything. They build their world around the physical and psychological things they see every day. My world wasn’t like that. I lived in other places, too, that were full of infinite possibilities.”

As I looked up at Will, his eyes were twinkling as brightly as the stars above him. He was slowly letting me into his world and I was pleased by the realization. He pulled my arm through his and we continued our walk and he continued his story.

“What we do at our house is try to nurture that other place, the one that isn’t finite…the part of the mind that is outside of the box, that part of us that is willing to accept that the world is beyond what it seems. Most who eventually study with McCollum felt as I did as child. I mean really, I couldn’t go to school and tell the other boys, ‘I just came back from a trip to another dimension’ or ‘I can see things other people can’t see?’ I would have gotten my ass kicked! Luckily, we all found each other, George, me and the rest of the boys.”

“It’s wonderful to see the look on each new boy’s face when he realizes that he’s not crazy, but gifted and not alone in his experience of life. Do you remember the man who broke up our party last spring? McCollum’s our teacher.” Will looked embarrassed.

“Oh yes, he leaves quite an impression,” I said quietly, not wanting to break his train of thought.

“Do you remember him
saying we had boys that couldn’t swim?”

“That’s always puzzled me,” I nodded.

“It’s a euphemism. We call the place where everything has always existed, all of it… the past, present and future…
The River of Knowledge
. When we use these words, it’s easier for the younger boys to understand, although the kids coming to study with us today are much more advanced than George and I were at their age. Last year there were thirteen that didn’t have the ability to
Swim in The River
, now there’s only three that haven’t entered
The River
. McCollum only expects a few more boys to find us this life time.”

“Don’t be freaked out, Hillary,” he said trying to read my expression. “People tend to incarnate within the same groups, lifetime to lifetime. Your great grandmother may be your daughter some day. Your mom could’ve been your sister in a past life. We’re not special in that way. We just arrange to meet a little more consciously.”

“Do you remember your past lives?” I stopped him in the moonlight, so I could see his face more clearly. For the first time I noticed how quiet it was. We had wandered away from the festivities and were almost to the other side of the campus.

“Yes, parts, not all, not yet,” he stumbled. “I sometimes see my friends as they were in previous lives. Other times I experience only the emotions, that feeling of déjà vu. I remember only the parts of the past that I can bear at the moment because I still have to continue my journey in this life. When we have time I’ll tell you more, but not now, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” I answered, dying to know everything. The more he talked the more mystical he became. I had heard of regression before, but nothing like this.

We turned and walked in silence back
toward the party, because really… my mind was just saying “WOW”... I’m speechless. Will looked at me sideways as his hair fell forward and asked in a soft voice, “Well, have you heard enough to make you want to run, yet? Do I sound like I’m a lunatic?”

“No, I think you sound like my Dad,” I said, squeezing his hand.

We made a full circle around the Commons and back to the bell tower, while Ruth and George had not moved from the spot where we left them.

“Well ladies, our pumpkin is about ready to depart. We need to get home before we’re missed,” George said pulling Ruth to her feet, “but we have time to walk you home, if you’d like our company.”

“I think we’d like that,” Ruth answered for both of us and I agreed with a nod.

“Lead away ladies.” George gave a gallant bow. “We may have found you on the computer, but we don’t know where you live.”

Ruth and George walked ahead of us while Will and I followed about ten yards behind. Once at our front door, Will stopped me so we could talk alone for just a while longer.

“Well Hillary, do I get a thumbs up or down? I’ll respect whatever you decide.”

“I’d like to see you again,” I started. Before I could add another word, he bent down and brushed his lips along my cheek. It took my breath away. I could feel his warm breath as he began to whisper in my ear. He wrapped his arms around me to hold me close.

“What would you do Hillary, if you were certain you were in the presence of your immortal self? How much time would you give to such a Being?”

I held still trying to comprehend the depth of the question… My immortal self…it was too big of a question...I couldn’t think while he was holding me so close and the humming sensation returning with vengeance. So I said, “Can I get back to you on that?”

I felt Will’s breath as a soft burst as he laughed at my response. “I’d love that.”

He kissed my forehead and turned to leave.

“I’ll email you soon, Hillary.” I watched him walk away in the light of the full moon.

OCT 1, 2010

It took a while to shake off my dream state as I slowly opened my eyes. The endless rewinding of the same dream disappeared into the background and I found myself back in my college existence.

Still wearing my ratty old t-shirt and socks, I dragged myself out of bed and walked into the living room.

“Come on Ruth, get up. I need to talk.”

Ruth looked at me from the kitchen door.

“I’m up and the coffee’s on. You seem grumpy.”

“Not grumpy, disoriented. What happened last night?” I asked.

“Are you serious, Hillary? I don’t know about you, but I had the best time of my life! I haven’t been able to stop thinking about George.”

“I slept so deep,” I said, sitting down with my head in my hands, “like I was drugged or something. My dreams were all in slow motion and they kept repeating over and over again. They were some kind of medieval thing with people dying and wizards casting spells.”

Ruth handed me a cup of coffee and moved on to the topic in the forefront of her mind. “You ready to compare notes?” she asked.

“Sure, tell me what ya got.”

“I’ve been up for a while with nothing to do, so I decided to see how much info I could get online.”

“You did a search for them?” Her expression gave me the answer. “Wow, I’m glad you didn’t ask me first, I’d have said ‘no way’. But since you didn’t ask me, sit down and tell me what you found out. Are they real?”

“Well, let’s start with George. I know he’s not a New Orleans jazz musician or the George Elliot born in Jasper, Indiana in 1841. And I’m pretty sure he’s not the geek with his personal info all over the Internet. I didn’t actually open those pages because I don’t want that guy to find my contact info,” Ruth said with a little bit of a shudder, “so, no, I found nothing concrete on George.”

“As far as Will goes, there’s an emerald forest, emerald mountains and Emerald William. I checked that picture out and he’s a
she
. Maybe if you can give me a few more details about Mr. William Emerald, we can run a trace. Maybe I should use another search engine…. My sister was telling me…”