The Flex of the Thumb (11 page)

“I'm pretty sure I never have, Mary.”

“A little faster, huh? The point is, when you have a body this beautiful you have to take care of every part. Just take my feet for instance. If I'm going to wear sandals, which I often do, I have to make sure my feet are beautiful. How many people have to deal with
that
??”

Vano tried to think about it briefly, but couldn't get anywhere.

Mary went on, “You have no idea the work that goes into it. Your feet have to be tan on top. They don't have to be tan on the bottom, feet are the one place where it's okay to have a tan line. Your feet always have to be real clean and well manicured; sloppy toenails are really gross.
Really
gross. Then if you want to put nail polish on your toenails, it has to be just the right shade. I had this nice beige shade once in the spring, but as soon as my feet got tan, the shade didn't work at all. The color was too close to the color of my skin. Are you listening to me?”

“It's a real interesting viewpoint,” said Vano. Even though Mary was still completely nude, his
hooommm
was firm and solid. He let his fingers travel gently the three white scars between her shoulder blades, but he was not sexually aroused by her physical beauty.

“I'm trying to explain something to you,” Mary Thorne reminded him. “Do you understand what I'm saying to you?”

“What you said was very nice, Mary.”

Mary sighed. It was a sigh of impatience. She stood up to begin putting on her bra. She lifted the lovely globes devoutly into the 38D
Cross Your Heart
Playtex Special. She said to Vano, “You're not very interesting, are you?”

New questions generated fog, so the answer didn't come quickly. “No, I guess not.”

“You're real agreeable, though. Maybe you can't expect one with the other.”

Vano had an idea: “You know what, Mary. I was thinking that you and I should have a date. All we ever do is have sex. If we went out on a date together, we might get to know each other better.”

Mary Thorne put her blouse on. “Like I was saying, you're really not very interesting.” Vano watched as she stepped into her white nylon bikini underpants. He couldn't help but wonder what would be the benefit of being interesting. To be polite, though, he asked, “What should I do about it?”

“Oh, I don't know. Change your major, maybe.”

“I don't have a major,” Vano informed her.

“Whatever.” She was ready to leave now. “There's never any telling how long the heat will last. You're very agreeable, but without being more interesting, I just can't say. Seeker can come back now.”

“It's not Seeker, it's Beeker. Arnold Beeker.”

“Whatever.”

When Arnold returned, he had a splint on his right thumb. “What happened?” Vano asked.

“I just came from the health center,” said Arnold. “It turns out I broke my thumb this morning.”

Vano was geared up to apologize for kicking him out of the room at Mary's behest, but he decided this more current subject should be the agenda. “How did you break your thumb?” he inquired.

“I broke it in my computer,” was the answer.

“You broke your thumb in your computer?”

“Yes, yes, if you have to know. I broke it in the printer.”

Vano wondered if this might be the only case on record of a broken thumb by way of an Epson, but it would surely be embarrassing to ask such a question out loud. “I'm sorry,” he said, “that you were kicked out of the room when Mary came. It's not fair.”

Arnold was pouting just the same. “You think I haven't been treated this way my whole life?”

After Vano apologized a second time, he said, “Maybe you and I should go to the union. I'll buy your supper.”

“The cafeteria meals are already paid for with our meal tickets, Vano.”

After a lengthy delay, Vano said, “I'm pretty sure that was my attempt at humor.”

“Ha ha,” Arnold said.

On the way, they stopped at the union book store. It was Arnold's mission to seek out the latest installment of
New Age Chronicles,
while Vano was content to simply browse. The target of this browsing was the large rack of popular paperbacks near the store's entrance. Some of the books, the kind that might be found in a drug store or discount house, were currently popular. Others had a more traditional popularity.

Vano's eyes moved from cover to cover:

The Jane Fonda Workout Book

Chariots of the Gods

Thin Thighs in 30 Days

Buns of Steel

The Late, Great Planet Earth

Why Not You, Why Not Now
?

Looking Out for Number One

Raquel's Guide to Beauty

Tough Times Never Last, but Tough People Do

You Are Worth It

How to Pick up Girls

There were more books on the rack, but suddenly Vano felt like the whole store was vibrating. It shimmered, taking his breath away. The titles of the books seemed to melt together while a fiery orange aura flared and consumed the rack. Vano was plunging deeper in than he'd ever gone before, at least while in a state of consciousness.

His head was swimming. He had to go to one knee to assure his own balance. The deafening roar was like a high-speed train blasting through a subway station. The only thing Vano could compare it to was his ballistic trip through the zone of the particle people on his way out of the coma.

The book store manager, who had noticed his plight, was offering him a chair. “You look a little pekid, young man, maybe you'd better sit down.” But this book store manager, speaking through the dull roar, seemed so far away.

“Did I lose consciousness?” Vano asked.

“There's no need to yell. We're right here. I don't think you lost consciousness, but you look a little green around the gills. If you'll sit down, I'll fetch you a glass of water.”

Arnold helped him into the molded plastic chair while the manager went to get the water. Arnold asked if he was okay, but the voice was too far away.

When the man returned, Vano said “Thank you. Do you have
Kon-Tiki
?”

“I'm sure we must have it. Here—drink a little of the water.” Vano drank the whole glass. Then he inhaled and exhaled several times. He felt better.

By the time Vano got his tray and silverware, the roar had receded, and he found himself in a comfortable, modest range of firm resonance. He was able to navigate the cafeteria line smoothly, choosing a cheeseburger and fries.

When they sat down to eat, Arnold asked him once again if he was okay.

“I think I'll be fine.”

With his mouth full of macaroni and cheese, Arnold announced, “I was over at the science building this morning. They're starting a spelunking club. I joined up.”

Vano didn't answer. He saw how clumsy it was for his friend to manipulate his fork while wearing the thumb splint. He couldn't take his eyes off the seven ballpoint pens housed in Arnold's plastic pocket liner.
Hooommm
.

“The spelunking club is going to be keen times for everybody. The sponsor says there are real quality caves to explore between Stockton and Sacramento. I think you should join up too.”

“Caves are nice,” replied Vano. “I think they would be cool and resonant and peaceful.”

“Is something the matter with you, Vano? Just listen to you. What are you staring at?”

He was too deep in to answer quickly. “I didn't realize I was staring.”

“You're staring is what you're doing. What did you see in the book rack?”

This delay was even longer, nearly ten seconds. Then Vano said, “I think I saw the truth.”

“The truth?”

“The truth about the books, I mean.”

Arnold's mouth was full again. His words were garbled when he asked, “So what's with the truth about the books?”

First, a long deep breath. Then Vano explained, “The books in the rack are really the same book. Ostensibly, their subject matter may seem to be different—a more beautiful body, a religious vision, or a path to worldly success. But in fact, all these books exist to assist, reassure, or reinforce the vulnerable egos of people on earth. They are essentially the same book, because they have the same purpose.”

Arnold Beeker swallowed his mouthful. “Vano, I've never heard you talk like this before.”

Vano smiled. “I don't think I have either. It might be the particle people talking through me, and not me at all. It feels like the words come from somewhere else.”

“The particle people? Did you say
particle people
??”

Leaning back in his chair, Vano drank some of his Diet Coke. “I could tell you about this, if you'd like me to.”

“Let's go, let's go. I
have
to hear it.”

Speaking very slowly, from deep deep in, Vano proceeded to deliver the longest speech of his life. He explained to Arnold about the phenomenon of
hooommm
. He summarized his visit with the particle people, then reviewed the basic concepts of particle mode and ego mode. He described the physical appearance of the particle people in as much detail as he could remember.

Arnold received this body of information with his mouth open, in the shape of an O. “Vano, this puts me in total awe.”

“They told me about something called
ultimate hooommm
. I'm not sure what it means, but they also told me that some day my understanding might be complete.”

“
Ultimate hooommm?
?” Arnold took off his new glasses and began to clean the lenses. He shook his head back and forth. “Vano, what can I say? This is
cosmic
! This is so fantastically cosmic that it truly humbles me.” Arnold opened his looseleaf notebook and pushed aside his pie plate. He began asking questions so rapidly that Vano couldn't keep pace with his answers. One of the questions was about eternal life.

Vano explained, “The particle people already have eternal life. In their particle form they travel the universe at the speed of light. They don't experience the aging process. Sometimes they travel at tachyon speed, which is even faster than lightspeed.”

Arnold Beeker felt like he had entered a holy sanctuary. “Vano, this is like you met God face to face.”

Still deep in resonance, Vano delivered a quiet reply: “Confined by the ego mode, we are fond of imagining a huge man who lives in the sky. God is the name we give him. But in truth, there is just the universe expanding and contracting. There are the waves, and there are the particles.”

“Can you please repeat that?” Arnold requested.

Vano repeated the statement.

“I've never heard you talk this way, Vano. I'm not sure I've heard anybody talk this way. You sound like a guru.”

Vano tried to explain by saying, “That's why I think the particle people may be speaking through me. It doesn't feel like I'm choosing words, it feels more like I'm a receiver in a transmission.”

Arnold closed his notebook and put his pen away. “No more right now, okay? Wait till we get back to the dorm. I'm going to have to plug this into the right program. I can tell you this much: I've thought up a lot of theories in my life, but nothing to compare to this.”

“This isn't a theory, Arnold,” was the answer, when it finally came. “This was an experience. Everything happened exactly as I told you.”

Arnold glanced nervously at the people seated at the nearest table before he said, “Please keep your voice down.”

Vano laughed. He tried to remember the last time he'd done so. “I don't make up theories, Arnold. I wouldn't know how to make up a theory.”

In a hushed voice Arnold warned, “I'm only trying to give you the benefit of my experience. You need to be real careful where you talk about this; I've learned that lesson the hard way.”

Vano was now entering the buzz of deeper resonance. He couldn't think of any reason not to share the particle people experience with anyone eager to hear about it. He wondered if he should tell Arnold how he had already shared some of it with Chaplain Johansen.

Arnold enlarged the scope of his warning with some detail: “I worked out this theory once about microwave ovens. I believe they were invented by the alchemists for the purpose of turning lead into gold. This proves that the microwave is not a new discovery at all. Microwaves have been around for hundreds of years.”

Vano had some experience with microwaves, of course, but he didn't know what an alchemist might be. He smiled the pleasant smile.

Arnold concluded by saying, “I made the mistake of explaining my microwave theory in chemistry class. I'm just trying to warn you, you need to be real careful where you discuss things like particle people. I've been pantsed for spouting off theories that weren't half as cosmic as this.”

Vano was still smiling. He wasn't hearing much of what Arnold said, as his friend's words were muffled by a
mezzoforte
roar. The cafeteria was gliding like ebb tide toward the orange horizon.

The day when Vano went in search of his philosophy teacher, Oboe Meel, he found him basking in the sun on a park bench on the quad. Sitting close at hand were the two maintenance men, Sydney Gibbs and Billy Byrd.

As soon as Vano took a spot near the end of the bench, he informed Oboe politely that he would like to do a book report on
In My Own Way
by Alan Watts. Oboe opened his eyes a tiny slit. He spat a firm arc of Red Man juice before he answered. “We don't do book reports in class.” He might have added they were too much trouble to read, but decided against it.

“I think I might like to do it for extra credit.”

“Extra credit? Extra credit means extra work.”