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Subject: +*+*+*+ Solomon's Private File #104 "Good and Bad Love" +*+*+*+
Date: Wed, 28 Oct 2015 17:33:20 -0400
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Solomon's Private File #104
These stories about Stephen and Solomon take place starting in
1950's. Stephen wrote about his life in letters to a penpal, and then
in a secure blog, in case he lost his memory again, in the master
computer in his school for gifted students, which he started attending
in 2016 in a new incarnation, until his death. Now his son Solomon is
attending the same school, and is writing in his own secure blog for
his future incarnations.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Solomon is 18 in this story, in the Spring of 2044.
Solomon's Private File #104 "Good and Bad Love"
START Page
An applicant walked into my office at the Bureau. He gave me his file
and sat down. He had bandaged knuckles of one hand. We did the tests. I
said, "These tests show us a lot about people. For you, it indicates
anger issues. Your injury indicates you were involved in some violence.
Please tell me what happened." He said, "You're right about the anger.
I still feel it from last night. We were in a restaurant, my wife and
I. A man from another table tried to pick her up! She resisted. I
stepped in and hit him in the face. He fell down. The police came, and
we and witnesses told them what happened. Nobody wanted to press
charges." I said, "I see." I wrote things in his file, and then ported
a cover sheet to my desk drawer, and put it on the file. I called for a
sec to come take it. She knew what to do, because the cover letter said
so. I spoke to the applicant for a few more minutes, and then took a
fake call. I said, "You didn't tell me your wife is in the hospital."
He looked surprised and cautious, and said, "I didn't know it was
pertinent to this interview." I said, "It could be, for what caused her
injuries. Did they involve a crime?" He said, "She fell at home." I
said, "The medical report says otherwise." He said, "I thought they
couldn't release that information!" I said, "They actually have to, to
law enforcement, when they suspect a crime. And that includes the
entire medical history." He got up to leave. I said, "The FBI uses
violence only when absolutely necessary. Not like you. We don't want
you. At least not outside of handcuffs." He opened the door, and walked
into two special agents with cuffs. One started to put them on, while
another came to me to get the voice recorder and time research memory
card from me. We shook hands.
The perp tried to get away, and broke loose from the agent, with the
cuffs on only one wrist. He bounced off Galya, really surprised. He
tried to hit her. She took his arm and twisted him to the floor and put
the other cuff on that wrist, so fast he almost didn't know what
happened to him. I went out with the other agent and said to her,
"Maybe next time you could make that last a little longer? It was over
so soon." She said, "Oh. Sorry. I'll try to make it more interesting,
next time." The agents were grinning at each other. The secs were
trying not to laugh. The perp was very bewildered. So was one of the
applicants. I said to the perp as the agents were hauling him to his
feet, "Did you forget where you are? We have some of the best people in
the world in this building. We work here. Get it?" He nodded, but
didn't really understand. The applicant witness said, "I get it. Wow!
Even the psychologists are expert special agents!" A sec said, "Dr.
Nimbol, you have a call in your office." I said, "Thanks. I'll let you
know when I'm free."
I took the call. It was the fast track agent who had guessed who we
were. I said, "You aren't investigating another psychologist's office,
are you?" Dead silence. Then he said, "How did you know?" I said, "I
would like to say it was because I'm wise and all knowing, and not that
that work. Well done! But yes, I am. I'm a team leader investigating
government corruption in Chicago. Influence peddling, and contract
abuses. Odd thing in this is almost all the major suspects have only
one thing in common, a psychiatrist. The station manager here thinks
it's a false lead. He won't kick it upstairs." I said, "So you're doing
an end run." He said, "You've got it!" I said, "Not yet. Got info?" He
said, "On my desk." I said, "And what am I supposed to do with that?"
finger back now?" I said, "Sure. Your suspicions are more than correct.
I'm good with fingers. Oh, alright. On the other thing, too. That
shrink is doing a Svengali on the perps. He's not making them do the
crimes, but making them cut him in on the loot. And actually helping
sometimes. Problem is you can't prove it. Perps can't talk, and you
can't bug the shrink's office. You have to prove the crime first,
before you can prove the crime." He said, "I had a feeling that would
be the case. If we can corner one of the perps and convince him to wear
he'll just shut down his end of the operation."
He said, "Any ideas?" I said, "Yes. Let's make him confess." He said,
"Oh! Please go on!" I said, "You suspect he was involved in a death. He
was. From now on, each of his perps, unaware, will be possessed by what
seems like the ghost of that person, slightly, enough to scare the
shrink into er, incontinence. And there will be some poltergeist
effects to go along with it. And some strange dreams, too. All urging
him to confess." He said, "Wow! How long do you think it'll take before
he caves in?" I said, "Maybe a week. What's really going to bug the guy
is the ghost is going to know a lot of things that will surprise him,
that only the ghost would know." He said, "But how will you know?" I
said, "The ghost does." He said, "I don't understand." I said, "You
know about reincarnation?" He said, "Yes." I said, "Sometimes there is
a delay in that, for a spirit that has some unresolved things about how
ghost will necessarily be real, but the info was very willingly given.
When this is done, the spirit can then let itself be judged for
reincarnation." He said, "You communicate with the dead?" I said, "When
they're freshly available and willing, sure. This one was VERY willing,
and is watching very closely." He said, "Wow!" I said, "I agree." He
chuckled.
I said, "New info on your desk. Might help a little, in the meantime.
Do you know if your boss has ever been to that shrink?" He said, "I
don't know. We haven't seen anything to indicate that." I said, "I'm
going to have the Director issue an all stations memo saying that all
investigations that involve mental health professionals in any way, be
copied to the Psychology Department as it happens. That's not mine, we
do evaluations, but if they need help, they know where to find me." He
said, "Good idea. We just aren't qualified to deal with them. That's
why I called." I said, "Not completely." He said, "You caught me. I
wanted the best." I said, "And?" He said, "Ha! You want blood! Yes, I
wanted to make you prove I was right about you." I said, "You should
rethink that. You know now what group I belong to. Full identity is
another matter." He said, "There are others that can do what you do?" I
said, "For what you have in mind, yes. Most of the shrinks in this
office. Depends on which of the group are in at the time. We like to
share, so we switch around a lot." He said, "But Solomon is the boss?"
I said, "The person of our group who coordinates our activities here is
a woman old enough to be his mother. Oops, but very young looking." He
laughed very well. He said, "She watches you?" I said, "We all watch
each other. Called monitoring. Anyway, we both have jobs that should be
calling us. Have a nice windy day." He chuckled, and we hung up.
I asked to see the Director. He was in, and I went to see him. I told
him about the whole thing, and the suggested memo. He said, "We already
have such a requirement in force. But I agree, we should remind people
of that. The Station Chief should have sent that forward, even if he
discounted its importance. I don't like that the agent called you,
instead of the regular Department." I said, "Yes. I agree. It's not
what we want to get involved in, but now I am for this. And that's
because he wanted me to expose myself to him. Hmm, not that way, I
think." He laughed. I said, "After this case is resolved, I want to pin
his ears back." He nodded and said, "I support that. I might do the
same to the Station Chief."
In a meeting, Ivanna said, "Let me do the pinning of ears." I said,
"Why?" She said, "Personal. I want to. And I want him to see that you
spoke the truth." I said, "If you want me to watch, I will. Otherwise,
I won't. In fact, I'm thinking of quitting. That wife beater hurt. All
of this is hurting." She nodded and said, "You've withstood the effects
of this longer than your father did. Why have you continued this long?"
I said, "Commitment, and to keep busy, physically. Most of my real work
is all mental, besides teaching. Part of the commitment was in teaching
on the job. That's done. Now there are others who can do that, and
well. I think I'm beginning to understand why my father stopped
resisting the pull. He didn't belong in this life, and there were no
great challenges to keep him here. I actually have less real work to do
than he had. Good for the galaxy." She said, "But not good for you?
Then find something." I said, "One of my problems is I have no real
equal. The next generation is going to have one more powerful, and more
knowledgable in some areas, but only by a little, and will be spending
most of the time not in this dimension. I'll be teaching that one,
which will be a little interesting." She looked very interested and
said, "Your child?" I said, "I'm not saying who's child. Even which
gender." She said, "But you know." I said, "The trouble with precog is
you don't really know until it happens. Very easy to misinterpret. And
doing that could change it. Here's one. I suspected Mom's new baby
would be Pete. It's actually Rod." She said, "Interesting. Will he
remember?" I said, "I don't know. For his sake, I hope if he does,
that's the only life he remembers. A good fun life, and an instant
death. Can't beat that at all." She nodded, and we hugged with love.
The bad shrink's dreams were really bad. I didn't like doing that,
but I had to, for the mission. He had to use his electric razor,
because his bladed disposables kind of resisted a little. Jerking in
his hand caused more than a few cuts. When he finished, the ghost
appeared in his mirror, and he freaked out. He drove to work, and the
ghost appeared in his rear view mirror, and he almost crashed. His
reserved parking spot under his office building had a sign on the wall,
"You killed me! Confess or I'll drag you down to hell!" He almost
screamed when he saw it, but when he looked again, it wasn't there. The
building elevator would go to every floor but his. He had to used the
stairs. When he got to his office, he was a mess. His secretary tried
not to stare. His first patient was one of the perps. He went under
hypno fast. Then he said in the ghosts voice, "You killed me! Confess!"
He yelled, "I didn't kill you!" That woke the perp up, who said, "What?
You didn't what? What's this about killing?" He said, "Just some odd
noise in the next office. Nothing to worry about. Perhaps you should
come back next week." Then one of his diplomas fell off the wall with a
crash. They both jumped.
His whole day was a disaster. He almost didn't make it home. He
decided to eat out. He tried to ignore it when the waitress insisted he
confess. Sometimes the fork wanted to stab his cheek. He had a very bad
night. That went on for four days. Then he demanded to have a real
conversation with the ghost. It was actually the real ghost's questions
and answers I relayed. She said, "You had me killed. You hired the man
who did it." He said, "I didn't do it!" She told him all the
information about it, including precise times and places. He was really
surprised. He said, "How do you know that?" She said, "Where I am, I
can see the past and the present. Any part I want to that has meaning
to me. I was a good wife to you. I didn't deserve to be murdered. It
hurt me, really hurt me. I can't rest until you confess to the police
what you did. All your crimes, not just my murder. You do that, and I
can't bother you any more, and then I can go for judgment. Yes, this is
real. You're not dreaming. You're thinking of killing yourself. Don't.
You won't like what will happen to you if you do. Even you don't
deserve the worst part of Hell you will go to if you kill yourself
before you confess. Not even if you hire somebody to kill you. Yes I
can see your thoughts. Where I am, that's all we are. Thoughts."
He said, "Did you make those objects move?" She said, "I don't know.
I wanted them to, but I don't know if I actually did it. I don't have a
body. Just thoughts. But I can see you and where you are, but I don't
have eyes. I don't know how this works." He said, "So I have to
confess." She said, "You should, and not just for me. Your patients are
beginning to suspect you've become crazy, and they're remembering some
strange things. The FBI is investigating them, and have noticed their
connection to you. It's only a matter of time before they get you. If
you confess before that, you might get a better deal. Strangely, I
don't care about that. Just that you confess to them so I can go on to
my judgement. My death has to mean something. I'm not sure why, but it
does. Maybe because I did love you." He said, "And I loved you. I don't
know where it went wrong. I was wrong. I loved you the first time I saw
you in calculous." She said, "It was in quantitative analysis. You have
such a poor memory for those things." He smiled fondly, and said, "I
think you're right. I'm sorry I had you killed. You didn't deserve it,
and I didn't deserve to lose you. I wish I could change things, but I
can't. But I can do one last thing for you. I can confess." She said,
"Everything? Even what you did to those patients?" He said, "Yes. That
was wrong. I knew it, but I don't know why I did it. I didn't need the
money." She said, "I think you were doing it because you felt bad about
yourself for killing me. And lonely, too." He said, "I think you might
be right. It's time I faced what I've done. No, you haven't convinced
me by what you did for the past few days, but by what you've said to me
now. I know it's really you, and all I ever loved about you. Kind and
sweet. Too good for me." She said, "Wives always try to make their
husbands into better people. Maybe I tried too hard." He said, "I think
you did, but because I just wasn't worthy of you." She said, "You are,
now. I love you. I have to go now. These things make me tired. I'll try
to speak to you again after you do what you should. Goodbye." He cried
his eyes out.
He went to see a lawyer, and said, "I've done some bad things. I want
to make full confessions and give evidence of my crimes, and help the
investigations of other crimes I'm aware of. Your job is to arrange it
so I receive the lightest plea-bargaining and sentencing you can
manage, while still giving them all the information I can provide. Do
you agree to do this?" The lawyer said, "Yes, if you tell me why the
change of heart." He said, "I had my wife killed. I realize how much I
really miss her, and how stupid and selfish I was. How wrong I was. I
want to make that right, the best way I can. Wherever she is, I hope I
can earn a little of her forgiveness." The lawyer said, "You won't kill
yourself?" He said, "No. I've thought about it, but that's not a true
resolution, and it might not even be an escape. I'm not a very
religions man, but I've found that I do have some beliefs. No, I won't
kill myself." The lawyer said, "I will represent you, with payment in
advance." He said, "Escrow. I'm not a fool." The lawyer said with a wry
smile, "Just testing. I don't represent fools." They shook hands.
Three days later, together, they went to the Chicago Office of the
FBI. The supervisor was really surprised. The team leader wasn't, and
that was noticed. They negotiated a good deal. He would serve ten years
in medium security federal prison for the federal charges, and that
credited to his state conviction of twelve years for second degree
murder. With good behavior, he would be free but under probation in
eight years. Before he was to be transferred to prison, he was put in
an interrogation room in the FBI building in the city. I ported in. He
recognized me. And he really noticed I was geared up like a Rabbi. I
said, "You know who I am." He said, "Yes. And I'm Jewish, but not
practicing." I said, "I'm here for mostly a different reason. Your wife
communicated with you. She wants to do it again, but can't on her own.
She used up most of her energy for that process already." He said, "You
don't lie. It's REAL!" I said, "Yes. She really did er, tell you off."
He tried to laugh and cry at the same time. I held him. He said, "But
how did you know?" I said, "I explore that strange place where souls go
to wait for judgement. Sometimes I talk with them. Sometimes they have
something to say. Most don't. Your wife did. I like helping, because I
can. So, here I am. When you're ready, I'll make the connection, but I
have to tell you, I'll be listening. I can't avoid that, and maintain
the connection." He said, "But you're a Rabbi. It's right that you will
be with us."
I did do the connection, and they talked of love and the great times
they had together. Then she said, "I have to go soon. Even with Sol's
help, this is very difficult to do. I'm sorry they took away your
license. I know how much it meant to you, but you can still teach.
You're a good man now. I love you more than before. Always remember
that I forgive you, and will always love you forever. I have to go now.
Goodbye my love." He said, "My love!" And the connection was gone. He
cried in my arms. Then we said some prayers. Then he looked at me and
said, "Am I really a good man now?" I said, "The goodness you refer to
isn't measured in idleness, but in deeds. You have done some
corrections of misdeeds, but you have yet to create new good deeds.
Doing good as a punishment, or a sacrifice, is penance, not goodness of
soul. When you do good, with a desire to do good for good's sake,
because it is right, and not just to please yourself or another, then
you will not need to question who you are." He looked at me in awe, and
said, "Are you God?" I said, "Someday I'll be a part of him like my
father is. Until then, I'm just an er, employee. But a very willing and
honored one." He bowed and said, "You have blessed me with your
presence. I wish I could do something good for you." I said, "You have.
I was weary of this life and all the troubles I have to correct. You
have shown me that it's worth it. That I should continue. I have helped
to heal love. That means more to me than saving actual lives." We
shared our tears.
END Page
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++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Grant
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