Super What?
Warming arms feel the rays of the sun shining though my bedroom windows while I lay there on my bed already awake. The room is a mess, as usual. Clothes, books and papers blot the floor like an unattractive pattern of floor tile. Various discarded plastic, metal, and wooden items line the design on my dresser. Assorted posters and games run the length of the walls and shelves. should I clean my room today? Maybe. I sometimes find lost monty and other valuable items during the process of cleaning, which only happen about once every two months. My bed is the one thing in the room I do keep clean and made. It is much more comfortable than sleeping on dice and newspaper.
Looking at the clock sitting on the night stand, it reads 8:02. The calendar says, July 10, 1986. Just another day to pass by. It is time to get up and see what is going on in the world. Sitting up is moderately difficult task. It feels as though the earth sways like the rock of a sailboat in a turbulent storm. And, BOY!, do I have a headache. Now, I remember. Eric's party last night. It was one of his good ones, where anyone caught not having a good time was dipped into the punch bowel and thrown into the pool. As I recall, there were strip dancers in portions of the house for, ah, entertainment. I drank and drank and drank all night long. I had every right to drink after the day I had. It started with that damned dog. It just kept barking...
I was in th eprocess of moving, and I needed some boxes. So, I began a journey to the supermarket, and on my way there I had to pass this fenced yard. I call it a journey because it was the beginning of a rather bizarre enlightening experience. I walked this way every day to and from work. Each time I passed, there were these tow dogs that came running up and barking, the German shepard first, then the large mutt. The German shepart was a beautiful gray color. It had a snow white chest outlined in black and dark dress shoes for paws. It gave me the impression of a wolfman in a tux. The other animal was a huge black and orange creature. It looked like an over-sized Halloween ornament with pointed ears. Its eyes were noticeable only because I could not see them. They blended in with the short body hair so well that I had took for a moment to catch the light reflecting from its glare.
This time, as I passed the enclosed yard, the terrible twosome came running from behind the house, quickly dodging the pale metal garbage cans that lay against the chopped wood pile and panting their way up the small grassy hill. Finally making that precise turn around the rose bush, conveniently used as a scare tactic, the dogs barked at me through the metal fence. Normally, I would have jumped, but mind mind was preoccupied with the barking of the German shepherd. Not just preoccupied, my attention was demanded. The sound pierced my eardrums. Pain shot into the ear canal and stung deep in my head. Then, to my amazement, the barking became an actual voice. I heard the hateful things the dog was saying to the familiar stranger, me. I felt its anger toward me and heard the words it was trying to say. At that moment, it was not a dog. It was someone who hated me just because I was too close to his territory.
I became blind. I could see nothing except blackness. But in the dark of my eyes, I knew that dog was there. I could not see it. Though, I knew where it was by its voice. Maybe it was some supernatural instinct. Maybe it was from all the books I had read. Whatever caused this next thing to happen was unforgettable.
I began to look for this animal's mind. Nothing else mattered to me anymore. My sole purpose in life at that point was to locate the source of all that hatred. I kept thinking to myself, "Find Dog. Find Dog. Find Dog." Through my tunnel vision thoughts, I searched with my mind's eye, and like a radar scope searching for lost planes, I found him. Right then, I knew the exact distance the dog was from me.
Anger filled inside of me. Hatred I have never felt before. So strong, I could take it no more. Mentally, I pictured the dogs mind and struck out against it. I thought, "Rip Mind." My sight had not returned, yet, but what I did see took all the strength out of me. The screen in my mind turned even darker. Black as I had ever known it to be. And with the thought of tearing into that beast who so brutally assaulted my soul, I saw a rip in the screen of my mind.
All as quiet. The barking stopped, and light came to my eyes again. I was surprised to see I was not facing the fence where the dogs stood behind. I was still walking forward, parallel to the yard, looking out into the horizon. The sound of dirt and soil being scratched in a random panic and the whimper of a helpless living thing brought my head turning to witness the German shepherd's actions. The poor creatures twisted its body left and right, unrhythmically dancing its anguish, trying to cast away the terrible feeling that had just come over it. The other big dog stood with its head to one side watching his companion's suffering as if he were a child puzzled about why his older brother had suddenly quit playing their game and started to cry.
Feeling I had committed a mortal sin, I picked up the pace and hurried to get my boxes. Everything was a blur for a while. The experience lingered for a long time in a mist of mixed emotions and thoughts. The emanating scent of clean floor and the ringing of cash registers, brought me their attention. next thing I realized, I was at the supermarket, and the checker was asking, "can I help you?"
I jumped. "Oh. Ah - yes," I replied, questioning my sanity. "Do you have any boxes?"
She proceeded to speak into the microphone and call for some assistance. "Would someone from the stocking depart-"
"Never mind," I interrupted. the realization of what I had just done flooded me with a sense of disbelief and a longing to verify what had occurred. Leaving the bewildered lady's look of confusion, I dashed to the slowly opening automatic door, pushing against the its resistance to open faster, and headed back for the scene of the crime. Quickly, I ran, desperate to see and know what actually did transpire. I crossed the final street, almost out of breath, and stopped. This put me about twenty feet from the stat of the fenced yard. Calmly, I walked, pacing myself to make it look like an inconspicuous stroll. A few sweat drops from y forehead trickled down my cheeks causing an itch to erupt and my trembling hand to scratch clumsily. I wondered why I was so nervous. Seeing the yard once more answered that question. Did it really happen? If such a thing did, how can I know it is true? What would I do if something like that happens again? Ha. Do I have a wild imagination or what? i tried to convince myself that people could not do things like mentally hurt other creatures directly, mind to mind.
The dogs were already in the front yard, lying othe think patch of grass behind the rose bush. Five feet from the yard they noticed me and began their barking. Neither did I hear the voice, nor did it sound so painfully loud. I thought things were back to normal. It as only my imagination getting away with me. and just to make sure, I concentrated and whispered, "shut up." They did, with one last yelp. That was not the outcome I wanted, and it confused me as much as it had the dogs.
It was only the beginning of a series of events that were to come for me yesterday. All very similar to the animal's. Each one alone is enough to make drinking as vital as the blood circulating in my veins.


Oct. 17, 1989