Perhaps this is a good time to tear a few bricks out of the fourth wall; I am what is called an "Old Soul." What that means is that at some point during my initial lives on this planet, I achieved some level of enlightenment and it was noticed by the entities that sort of run things. What things you ask? As it was explained to me, and frankly, it sounded a bit dodgy, occasionally the Universe needs a minor adjustment to make things turn out for the best. Please note I did not say "as planned." While the entities in the Nexus can calculate what may happen based on events that have already occurred, the future is not pre-determined.
There is an echelon of authority that goes as follows:
The Nexus, which I will describe in greater detail in a bit, is where the Master Controller entities process the data provided by the Observers. The Observers gather and collate information from Watchers, Communicators, Messengers and Travelers.
Watchers oversee and transmit information to Communicators. The Communicators' job is not so much to be an avenue of communication as it is to communicate a particular idea to an ordinary being on any given planet. All planets with intelligent life have a team just as I have described, watching over developments and taking appropriate action to steer the populace of its particular planet in a direction that will help them survive and evolve to their full potential.
The Messengers communicate directly with Travelers, pass on information from the higher echelon and pass information to the higher echelon from the Travelers.
Travelers, and this includes me, are but the tool put in place by the Nexus. We are corporeal beings just like any other human; only Travelers are tangible, Messengers are able to manifest so that they may be seen by anyone or just the Traveler with whom they are speaking. Messengers and Travelers have two basic means of communicating; verbally and what you would call telepathically, but not quite. We aren't reading the other's thoughts but only that which the other is projecting to be understood. While I can read thoughts, it requires physical contact to do so. I can impart ideas and suggest ways of meeting a challenge or determine if a person is basically good or bad. Imparting ideas does not require physical contact but can be a bit jarring for the recipient.
The Nexus is, for want of a better word, a clearinghouse for life energy that has returned at the end of a life cycle. Over the course of several life cycles, one becomes aware of certain intangible concepts and begins to behave differently as they carry a certain amount of knowledge into the next life cycle. At some point, this is recognized by those at the Nexus who are trained to recognize potential Travelers.
Most beings live more than one life, that which makes us people and on this world. Humanity is energy, our corporeal bodies wear out and we move from one life cycle to another; not always as humans or even on the same world.
On one world, I was a tree for nearly a thousand Earth years, until the local people cut me down and used me to build their first complex structure. Not long before it happened, a Messenger came and awakened me and I had a century or so to observe and report the behavior of the inhabitants of the planet. I also became aware of the planet and the cycle of life upon it; I could feel the rotation of the planet and sense the tidal forces of the moons. Once I was cut down though, I wasn't taking in nourishment and I took a long time to die. During that time, I was able to influence the people who dwelt within the structure they made of me. When my ability to affect the people waned, I was relieved and returned to the Nexus where all life energy combines and is sent forth again in the Universe.
While we are on Earth for example, we are human, we behave as such although we are aware of our mission after a few years. We are also aware hours after we are born and that requires the assistance of a Messenger to help us suppress our knowledge. Otherwise, it would be shear torture to be an infant, unable to control our bodies or tongues lacking even rudimentary language skills.
When we reach age five or occasionally sooner on Earth, we begin to recall why we are here and we begin to prepare and position ourselves to perform our specified task. Sometimes that means sacrificing our current existence in favor of a larger goal.
If that happens, we get recycled and we get another assignment. Otherwise, we are free to live as an enlightened soul on whichever world we happen to be, until age or circumstance catches up.
Occasionally we are asked to perform other tasks since we are already in place and available.
In my case, Communicators made suggestions to what we call host parents. The hosts have no idea that they are raising an asset and it is important they do not. It might allow them to interfere because of attachment issues. In my case, the Communicators convinced a Boeing executive that he could not do without the engineering skills of my father. The Communicator also planted the idea of receptivity in my father's brain and helped my mother decide that Seattle would be a nice place to live. And so my father accepted the offer from Boeing and bought a nice house in West Seattle. So here we are.
So what do we accomplish?
Sometimes we just save a life that is needed to do something dramatically necessary for the good of the planet and all who dwell on it, and sometimes we don't, or even prevent the death for the same reason. Other times it might consist of causing an accident so a man will go to prison and work out a revolutionary concept that will help humanity advance.
Why would it be necessary for the man to go to prison? In the example given, the man was preoccupied by trying to advance in a career he was not suited for and that wasted his talents as a biochemist. With all of that nonsense out of the way, he was able to concentrate on work that he had begun before he had taken the position that distracted him and delayed his work. Once he had his concept worked out, he was allowed a retrial and exonerated because of faulty evidence. Communicators went to work and he received an offer from a prominent pharmaceutical company and continued to fulfill his destiny.
As it was explained to me when I was new at this, trust me I was quite reluctant to take part, the Universe is like a machine and requires an adjustment every once in a while to keep it running smoothly and evolving in what may seem a random pattern but most decidedly is not. I am not privy to the grand plan or the ultimate goal.
The Nexus doesn't always get it right either; as an example, organized religion is a missed opportunity or a complete cock-up that continues to cause headaches if the Master Controllers indeed had heads that could ache, for those who control the Nexus. If you think religion on Earth is bizarre you should see some of the other planets and moons. On one, the dominant species believes that a species of plant life is all-powerful because it is capable of uprooting itself if the nutrients in the soil fall below acceptable limits. All hail the Magic Turnip. It's only slightly more odd than what many believe on this planet.
One other thing, we cannot travel in time, not any of us. What has happened is static and cannot be changed. However, instantaneous travel is possible for intangibles such as Messengers and others in the higher echelon.
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"Hello Traveler, how is your journey going?" I asked the man. He was near fifty and lean but not gaunt, his clothes were the sturdy type that wear long and are easily reparable. He carried a leather satchel and a walking staff."
"Well hello brother, what brings you this way?"
"Just a bit of work, have you everything you need?"
"Yes, I'm well equipped, but the price of a good meal would not be refused."
"I'm happy to help anyway I can, will you be here long?" I asked as I discretely passed him two twenty dollar bills.
"I will be close by for a while, my time to act is near, if you need anything you will find me nearby."
"And if you need me, I am close as well, but you'll probably want to go through a Messenger. This era seems to have some hang ups with men speaking to boys."
I smiled as I watched the two brothers. The older boy indulged his younger brother and let him look at the ancient or just odd objects in the old shop. The older boy was there to pay the balance on a gift for his father. His birthday was approaching and Chase thought that the old dividers and compass which were so perfectly made and decorated with engraved scroll work were perfect. His father was an architect and it was just the sort of thing he liked to collect. Antique drawing tools were hard to come across and were usually pricey but these had been reasonably priced at forty-five dollars. Chase didn't have a lot of extra money but this was worth it if it would make his daddy smile if only for a while.
"Let's go Carter, we have to get home before Daddy comes."
Carter slid off the stool he was using to get a better view and turned, only to run head first into my belly.
"Oof, you have a hard head Carter, it's like a billy goat's."
"How did you know my name?" the four-year-old asked.
"Your brother just said it."
"Oh, okay. Are you okay, I didn't mean to bump into you," Carter apologized.
"I'm fine, a little lower and it would have really hurt."
"I'm really sorry, my little brother isn't very careful sometimes," Chase explained.
"It's okay, I'm not hurt. Um, are you walking towards the park?"
"Yes, we go home that way, would you like to walk with us?
"Yes, thank you, I'm new here and I get lost sometimes."
"Um, what's your name?" Chase asked.
"Oh sorry, I'm Étienne what's your name?"
"It's Chase, um, Étienne? That's French for Steven isn't it?"
"Yes it is, how did you know that?"
"I think I read it in a story online. So which street do you live on?"
"Beach Drive, just past the parkland. Where did they get a name like Me-kwa-mooks anyway?"
"It's a Native American name. That whole area was a native settlement; we just call it ‘The Mooks’.”
"I didn't know that, but then I don't know much about Seattle," I sighed.
"Well this is West Seattle, it's practically a separate city," Chase offered.
"I'm sure I'll learn, we almost ended up living on Vashon but Mom didn't like being dependent on a ferry to get to town. It's very different than Santa Barbara."
"California? I've always wanted to go there, it sounds really cool."
"Some of it is; a lot of it isn't so nice. Lots of things to see but everyone thinks they're a movie star it seems like. I had a lot of good friends there so there are some nice people but you only ever hear about the weird ones, I guess."
"You must miss your friends, um… how did you get a name like Étienne? It's just unusual and kinda cool."
"I was named for my mom's father, Jean-Étienne Loutré, he was a farmer that had a lot of land in Bretagne. He raised beef cattle and artichokes. It's a very pretty place and quiet too. I loved our visit."
"I'd love to learn French; I think it's a cool language. I'm taking it next semester," Chase announced.
"So, do you live close to here?" Étienne asked.
"Yes, we're a couple of houses away from you I think. I saw a moving van unloading furniture. I didn't know there were any kids there or I would have come over and said hello."
"It's just my older brother and me; most of the furniture was his, for his apartment over the garage. It's pretty big, that's where we're staying until Mom and Dad get here."
"What's his name?"
"Tavish, my dad's a Scot and his dad's name was Tavish MacGregor so that makes me Étienne MacGregor. My brother goes by Arthur or Art; he's pretty cool to be around.
A harsh voice shouted, "Hey! What are you fags doing on my street?"
"Fags?" I said, incredulously.
"You heard me; you're on my street, so pay up."
"I don't think so; um… what is your name anyway?"
"It's Benny and you better get to know it, cos I'm gonna be on you all the time."
Benny reached out to poke me with his left hand; I grasped the extended fingers with my right hand and twisted. Faster than Benny or Chase could make out I reached out with my left hand, and using my index finger struck Benny in a nerve junction near the left end of his collarbone. I released the fingers and stepped back.
"What did you do to me, I can't feel my arm. You are so dead, when I get my arm to work again, I'm going to beat the shit out of you!"
"Benny, listen to me carefully, you won't touch me or anyone else again. If I hear that you have, I'll come for you. Think about what I just did to you with a fingertip, I know the human nervous system very well and it controls every function in your body. Use your imagination and think about what that means," I said calmly.
Benny cradled his useless arm and stepped out of the way as we three boys passed.
"That was weird, what did you do to him? And where did you learn to talk like that; it sounded so eerie and freakin' weird? You sounded like an old man for a minute."
Carter grinned up at me, "That was cool Étienne, he's not really hurt, is he?"
"No Carter, he'll be fine in a few minutes, at least physically. I think maybe he's in a bad place to live."
"Do you think they hurt him, is that why he's so mean?"
"I think it's possible. I think I'll try to find out."
"Why would you do that, I mean he's such a bully and not many people like him?" Chase asked.
"Because he's a human being, maybe he just needs someone to care. Do you know about Francis of Assisi?"
"Um no, I've heard of him but we're not Catholic."
"I'm not either, but he is said to have been a terror and a brute when he was young, but he received guidance and eventually became St. Francis. You just never know what a person can be with a little help."
"You know when you talk like that, you don't sound like a kid. It's kinda weird," Chase noted, smiling.
"Well I like it, and I like him. I like you Étienne, you should come with us and have a snack," Carter gazed adoringly at me.
"Yeah Étienne, come with us, we'll raid the fridge."
"How can I say no?" I said, smiling down at little Carter.
Carter grabbed my hand and the younger boy held on to it as we walked the rest of the way.
I was surprised by the house the two boys led me to; it was nearly a mirror image of the house my parents had bought with a bit more ornamental brickwork and cast iron fencing. A well-aged green copper placard hung from a timber on the front porch announcing that the Connovers lived there.
"Is Connover your family name?" I asked of Chase.
"Yes, it's Irish according to my dad."
"It's a nice name, very strong."
Chase opened the door and ushered his brother and I through to the living room. The room was elegantly furnished with Danish Modern Revival tables and chairs. The dark shiny wood floors offset the light wood of the chairs and the ivory colored leather.
"Your mom has very nice taste in furniture, this room is very nice," Étienne complimented.
"Oh um, thanks, but my dad did all the decorating or told the decorator what he wanted. Our mom doesn't live here, she's in a hospital," Chase said quietly.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know. Has she been there a while? Or maybe you would rather not discuss it. I'm sorry I was so nosy."
"No, it's okay. I've dealt with it, but Carter still gets upset so please don't mention her around him."
"Of course, he's a nice little guy and I wouldn't want to hurt him or you either."
"He sure seems to like you, um, can you excuse me, I need the toilet and then I have to get Carter ready for his nap."
"Sure, should I wait in here or is this for grown-ups only?"
"Sure, it's okay, my dad's not like that. Go ahead and get comfortable."
Shortly after Chase walked away, Carter bounced down the stairs and scrambled into the living room.
"Well, where did you run off to, you disappeared as soon as we came through the door?"
"I went to see my plant."
"Plant?" I queried.
"My potato plant, it's sprouting, come and see."
I sprinted up the stairs to keep up with Carter.
Carter darted back, grabbed my hand and drug me to a nice cozy bedroom obviously meant for a little boy.
Carter led me to a low shelf in front of a window where an old Mason jar held a small piece of potato with roots extending downwards and green stalks and buds strove upward toward the sunlight.
"That's a nice healthy plant Carter, what are you feeding it?"
"This stuff in the squeeze bottle, Mr. Baxter says it's liquid fertilizer with nitrogen and other supplements. It's a hydroponics experiment, where you grow plants without dirt, I mean soil."
"Very good Carter, it looks like your experiment is going well."
"Uh huh, I'm supposed to take a nap now, will you help me get ready?"
"Sure Carter, what do you need me to do?"
"Can you help me get undressed and get my sleepers on?"
"Sure, what do you need help with?"
"My belt and zipper, they're new and they're too stiff for me to open."
"Okay, let's get your shirt off first and then we'll get your shoes, and after that we can get those pants off and your sleepers on."
"Okay," chirped Carter after a big yawn.
As soon as he was out of his little Wranglers, he grasped his penis.
"Do you need to go?" I asked.
"Uh huh, I need to pee real bad."
I had noticed the chamber pot and urinal on the windowsill, walked over and lifted the urinal and asked Carter to join me.
Carter looked at me strangely but said, "Okay."
I held the porcelain receptacle as he relieved himself.
"I'm all done; I always thought that stuff was just for decoration," Carter exclaimed.
"Oh sorry, do you have a bathroom nearby?"
Carter nodded and pointed to the door behind me.
"Silly me eh, oh well it got the job done, I'll just go pour this out and rinse it."
"Okay," said the bewildered little boy.
"Oh here you are, did Carter drag you up here to show you his plant?" Chase queried.
"Yes, he was anxious to show it to me."
"What's with the jug?" Chase asked.
I finished drying it and placed it back where I had retrieved it.
"I had your little brother use it, he said he needed to go and I didn't realize he had his own bath."
Chase began to laugh, "Well that's a new one to me. I thought they were an antique wash basin and pitcher."
"He helped me get changed for my nap; can we get our snack now?" Carter chirped.
"Oh yeah, let's go down and get something to eat," Chase agreed.
I had successfully dodged that one, one of the problems with being an old soul is keeping the era straight in your head.
I often make a mistake with some tool or object that, although familiar to me, is considered an obsolete antique. The current era is helping a bit with that, at least in covering my tracks. With people, using anachronistic objects as they were intended and embracing old crafts, my little faux pas don't get as much attention.
The grilled cheese sandwiches were quite good as were the lemon cookies and juice.
Carter chattered throughout and I had no idea how he would ever be able to take a nap. That turned out to be simple. Chase and I got him comfy in his bed and Chase asked if he wanted a story.
"Can Étienne read to me?"
Chase looked at me inquiringly.
"I could read or I could sing for you, I find it helps with my little cousins."
"Please sing to me, no one ever sang me to sleep before."
I took his tiny hand in both of mine and began to sing Plaisir d'Amour. I have a fairly nice voice for singing in human terms. While I sang, I projected thoughts of meadows and flowers and other placid calming scenes through my contact with Carter's hand. By the time I finished singing, Carter was sleeping soundly with a sweet smile of innocence on his face.
"Chase, is that you singing? Are you in Carter's room?" a male voice inquired.
Chase, who had begun to doze himself, was jolted back awake. Yes Dad, I'm in here with Carter and Étienne.
"Étienne? Who is Étienne?" The voice asked, although it didn't sound angry."
"He's a new friend, he helped Carter and me and we helped him find his house. He's new here; he lives down the street in the Vincent's old house."
"Hello, young man, said a pleasant looking man in his mid-thirties. While not Olympic material he wasn't soft, just not fitness crazed. His eyes were the same gray blue that Chase and Carter displayed behind thick full lashes. I would have found him attractive if we were the same age.
"How do you do sir, I'm Étienne and I'm your new neighbor.
Was that your voice I heard?"
"Yes sir, Carter decided he would like to be sung to."
"It was very nice singing, I only caught the last few lines but I enjoyed it. Welcome to our home."
Thank you, Mr. Connover.
"Jeff will do nicely Étienne, it was a pleasure to meet you."
"Thank you Jeff, Carter is such a nice little guy, I wanted to help him to sleep."
"It almost worked on me, Dad," Chase declared.
"Well he has a lovely voice, I'm not surprised," Jeff replied.
"I should go and check in with my brother, he's keeping an eye on me until our parents arrive."
"I hope you'll stop and visit again, I like meeting my sons' friends."
"It was nice to meet you and Carter, I'll see you soon."
"You bet; Carter will be unhappy that you left but maybe we can see you later or tomorrow."
"I would like that," I held up my phone and displayed my number. Call me whenever you want to meet up. Um, you might not want to mention Benny to your dad."
"Yeah, he might not understand. I'm not sure I do but I'll ask Carter to keep quiet about it, also"