50
The journey had been longer than he had anticipated, and he was glad of the sit down, despite being on a train for two and a half hours. Curio had walked with a London A-Z, wishing he knew how the transport and underground system worked, but he had decided it was probably best to walk. He had thought about a taxi, but knew that the cost of living in London was dearer than in Widnes, and did not want to risk getting to the place only to have an irate driver with a passenger who could not pay.
With a small x marking the place he needed to get to, and knowing where he was on the map, it had been seven miles, and that was taking the shortest route. Eventually, along a side road and up an incline, he reached the ‘Institute of psychological research’, and was surprised at just how quickly he was seen. They seemed to know exactly who he was and what he was there for. Three women had seen him.
The first when he had walked in to what resembled a converted Victorian house, the second when he was shown upstairs to be greeted by another, younger woman who had led him into what she had described as a sound chamber. It had been converted, she had said, for this occasion. The window and door sealed out all acoustics, and Curio was left sitting on what resembled a dentist’s chair.
The whole place could easily have once been a dentists. He had been told to take a seat, but he didn’t particularly want to sit there without being attended to, so after adequate respite, decided to stand at the window of the surprisingly small room, looking through wooden blinds at the street below. Fear was slowly flowing through his system. He guessed that it was probably natural.
All psychics scientifically tested probably felt the same, he hoped, but he didn’t know of any that had. He had every confidence in his ability, so could not understand the feeling. He wondered if Abe would show up. He should, he thought. He was the reason he was here. The room was silent, as if time itself stood still in there. A biker rode by. A car came the other way. Two pigeons walked on the roof opposite, one following the other.
He turned and crossed back to the chair, looking at the machines on the counter on the other side of it, near the door. A random event generator had five small red lights across the top. Attached to it was a Geiger counter, and attached to that was an oscillator. As he was looking at them, the door opened and silently closed.
“I know they’re not exactly modern, but they don’t seem to be built these days. Perhaps it is testament to the fact that it is accepted generally that the supernatural does not exist, and nor can it be proven”. Curio saw that a man who seemed to be in his late sixties had entered the room.
He wore a single breasted white tuxedo, his black shoes shining. He extended his hand, and Curio looked at it, knowing that he represented the other side of the argument, the ‘enemy’, or foe, but it was amicable disagreement, rather like two boxers between bouts who always touch gloves to signify the fact that despite repeatedly hitting each other, they still had respect for their foe. Curio shook his hand, and smiled without humour. “My name is Abiel Hartman, you’ll know me as Abe”. Curio nodded, and looked at the machines.
“What are you going to do to me?” he asked.
“Ah, well, basically, you’re going to prove the existence of the paranormal, aren’t you?” Curio didn’t look at him, but simply nodded.
“We’ll start you off with zener cards, and we’ll end up with the acid test. You will bring a spirit into the room. Or at least you will attempt to. Electrodes will be attached to your temples as you try to conjure up an entity. Any electrical activity that we cannot attribute to your normal brain functions will be taken into account and examined.
The activity in your temporal lobes and your limbic system will be monitored, and should they alter due to outside influences, well, we’ll know about it, but of course, that will not prove paranormal activity at that stage. When it can be nothing else, then you will gain the honour of being the only person in history who showed the real world that there is life after death, that there is a spirit world. If you can show me that spirits exist, then the paranormal will be real”. Curio turned and wandered back to the window. Abe continued: “Obviously you can back out at any moment. You’re under no obligation”.
Curio looked at Abe.
“When do I begin?” he asked.
After three hours, Curio was being driven through London’s streets towards Euston train station.
“The implications will be huge,” said Abe, pulling up at traffic lights.
“I can’t believe after all these years of scepticism, somebody’s shown me the truth”. Abe shook his head. “I can’t thank you enough, Curio, really”.
“That’s ok” said Curio. “There are thousands of doubters who will come to see the reality of the paranormal. I can show them it, but it’s up to them whether or not they believe”.
The lights turned to green and he continued along a main road.
“Well, as I mentioned, I will organise a press briefing in a few days, and present you as the man who scientifically proved the existence of the paranormal. This will go worldwide. I still can’t believe you passed 100% on every test”.
“I was showing you the reality of it,”
“..and you brought my dear old mother back. She’d been gone sixteen years, but she’s still happy where she is. I can’t tell you how glad that makes me feel”.
“I’m going to be down here a lot now aren’t I? I’ll need to find accommodation”.
“When you come back for the briefing, I’ll have a place for you until you find a permanent place. Have you got much to pack?”
“No,” said Curio, “There isn’t much. I’ll probably sell my computer and TV”.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to buy new ones now,” said Abe, as he drove into the station. He pulled up at a kerb and Curio took off his seat belt and opened the door.
“Thanks again,” said Abe, shaking Curio’s hand, “You’ll hear from me very soon”. Curio smiled.
“Much appreciated,” he said, leaving the vehicle, “Bye”. With a self-satisfied look on his face, Curio walked amongst the throng towards his platform. A woman in her early forties saw him and approached.
“Excuse me? Curio Enchantment?” Curio’s smile widened.
“Yes, that’s me”.
“Could I have a reading?” He nodded.
“Just give me a ring,” he said, “but leave it until next week. I’m going to be quite busy in the next few days. There’s going to be an important announcement.”
“Really?” she said, “Any chance of telling me”. He shook his head.
“Watch the news,” he said.
“Oh…ok,” she smiled at him. “Well, good to meet you, bye”, she said, then disappeared amongst the crowd. Curio wondered how she would know of him. It then dawned on him, and he headed for a newsagent. He was soon walking towards his platform, reading his article in ‘Lazy days’. The reporter was glowing about him. ‘...and I was amazed at his ability’. ‘I used to be sceptical’. ‘...most talented psychic I’ve ever seen’. ‘There are a lot of fakes out there, preying on the gullible, but Curio is no predator. He has proven to me that he is in touch with the other side, and can communicate with the deceased. A man with a unique talent whom I hold in absolute high esteem. He is most certainly a genuine psychic’. The double page spread had two pictures of him. One taken at his window of him looking out at the sky. The other of him smiling, sat on his sofa, leaning forward.
He read the article word for word six times on the journey back to Liverpool. He had a corner all to himself with a small table. The magazine was left open throughout the journey in-case anybody sat near him. They didn’t. The rest of the time he spent relaxed back in his seat, looking out of the window, with his self-satisfied expression. When he returned to Liverpool, it wasn’t long before he was heading for Widnes. Nobody else recognised him. He was soon stood in his cold flat, looking around. I’ll soon be out of this hovel, he thought. He wondered if he would have to visit the jobcentre to sign off.
Not yet, he thought. It was too early. What about housing benefit? Would they pay for accommodation in London? He decided to cross those bridges when the time came. For now, he crossed to the hi-fi and selected a CD. Bob Perry’s jazz moods, volume 2. The sound filled the flat and he made himself a cup of tea. As he sat down in his armchair to drink it, his mobile phone rang. He put down the tea on the coffee table and went to his coat. He retrieved it and saw that there was an unfamiliar telephone number. He answered it as he walked back to his chair.
“Hello, who’s this?” he asked.
“Curio, it’s Abe. I figured you’d be back by now. I wondered if you are free tomorrow.
I’m playing golf with a couple of work colleagues and wondered if you would join us. If you agree then we will arrange a round on a course up where you live. There’s no need for you to travel back here. Anyway, there’s somebody who wishes to meet you. What do you say, fancy a round?”. Curio thought for a few moments.
“Who wants to meet me?” he asked.
“I’ll bring him along if you agree”.
“Alright,” Curio said. “I’ll need to borrow some clubs, though”.