Stephen's Secure Blog #54
These stories about Stephen began was when he was 10 years old, and
moving to a new part of the country to attend a special school for
gifted students, in the 1950's. This was from a time before computers
would fit on a desk, and when people communicated with friends in other
countries by actual letters sent through the postal service. He wrote
225 of them to a friend. He stopped writing to his penpal, but found he
still wanted to record his life, in case he lost his memory again, and
wrote 30 entries in his first logbook. Then he wrote to an artificial
intelligence called Geenee, in the master computer in his school for
gifted students, which he started attending in 2016. Now it's 2018 and
later, and he's continuing to save his memories in a secure blog.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stephen is 13 in this story, in the Summer, after the end of year 3 of
his special school.
Stephen's Secure Blog #54 "Sadness"
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I made the rounds of all the people I'm involved with, and gave them
updates on what I've been doing. Tomba was very impressed and amused to
hear about my art sales in the Galaxy. So was Mr. RedCloud. Jeremy
cried with happiness, and said, "It was your art which brought me my
love, and I know how much your art always meant to you. I'm VERY happy
you can do it as much as you want to now, and have it appreciated as
widely as the whole galaxy." I said "Not my art. That just helped a
little. YOU landed him all by yourself, by just being you, and I was so
happy for you both, I cried a lot. For years, actually." We hugged a
lot more. Then he said, "Have you seen Dan?" I said "I lost track of
him, and don't know where he is, or even if he still is." Jeremy cried
again. He said "He has Alzheimer's. Early to moderate stage, but is in
a nursing home. Stuart committed suicide when he found out, last year."
I cried my eyes out. After a while I said, "Some things I can heal, but
not brain damage like that. Mine could be healed by the bed after I
escaped from the Van, only because it had recorded my brain
configuration and memories right before it happened." We cried some
more. Then I visited Dan. Naturally he didn't recognize me, but he did
remember his hero, and did understand me when I told him I was the
aware reincarnation of him. And then he didn't. I cried very hard, but
inside so it wouldn't disturb him. When I could, I did what healing I
could give him, to make him comfortable, and I gave him a whole lot of
love he can feel for as long as he has left. Then I went back to Tomba,
and we cried together. Then I went to Chad, and we sang for him. Rod
put his fist through a wall again, when he found out, and I healed it
for him. Jan cried for him, and called for Dean to do it with her.
I spent a few days wandering around DC. Just that, round the clock. I
was attacked three times at night. I just ignored it behind my shield.
Then I was attacked again by a whole gang. I kept on walking. Two of
them pulled out guns. I ported all their ammunition away from them, and
from the other guns the gang had with them. Then a police car rolled up
with it's lights and siren going. The gang members all ran away. I kept
walking. A police officer asked me to stop, so I did, and said, "Hello,
officer. What can I do for you?" He said "I saw what happened, and I
can't believe it. Are you alright?" I said "I'm sad for something else,
but other than that, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." He said
"Can you explain what happened? They tried to attack you, and just
bounced off." I said "I'm sorry, but it's better if you just forget
what happened. I couldn't explain so you would understand and accept,
but I'll say this. Nothing can harm me that I don't allow." I gave him
my love. He crossed himself and said, "Are you an Angel?" I said, "You
mean with wings and everything?" He nodded. I said with a smile, "I
have sensitive skin. Feathers would tickle too much." He tried to
suppress a smile. He said "So would bullets?" I said "That's why their
guns suddenly didn't have any in them. After that, I did hear a lot of
frustrated clicking." He couldn't help himself, and laughed. A robin
landed on my shoulder and chirped. A dog came to me and licked my hand.
I didn't ask them to, but they did. The officer opened his eyes wide
and said, "I know who you are!" I said, "I see that you do. I don't
look now like I did then, but we can't always have everything to our
liking." He looked awed, and started to kneel. I held him up, and said,
"Only to your God, and only if you feel like it. He knows what's in
your heart, and doesn't need outward signs of your love and respect.
You are a good man. I am sad no longer. Thank you. I should be going,
but remember my love, because I will remember yours." I gave him my
love, and walked away. When he couldn't see me, I ported home.
I went to bed alone, because Ichi was with his parents in Japan. In
the morning, I wondered if I had dreamed my encounter with the gang and
the police officer. Then I checked, and the gang members were still in
the formerly empty prison cell I had ported them too, just when that
wouldn't be seen. They were not quite as naked as they had been, and
the emptied guns which I had let them keep, had been removed. If it was
a dream, it was an unusually active one.
I went to have breakfast with Tim and Mac. Tim said, "We were worried
about you. I hope you don't mind that we watched to see if you would
need help." I said "Not at all. Isn't that what parents are for, my
former trainees?" Tim embarrassedly cleared his throat. Mac said "Were
you really him?" I said "Francesco? Yes. I like remembering him the
best." Tim said, "You would." We shared our love.
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Grant
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