"Apartment 3-D is yours. Here are the keys. You are just visiting. Cozy looking neighborhood! How like you to choose it, Daniel. Time for me to nap. See you next visionspace!" Harold said, and left whistling. "I, hey wait!" Daniel pleaded but Harold was off. The panel Next to the apartment building's entrance showed Daniel's name Glancing at the other names in the list, he briefly wondered: Ought I buzz one of my neighbors to find out more about this time frame. Use your brain, he quickly, interrupted himself. A voice above thundered. "Top of the morning to you, Daniel." A slightly rotund woman leaned out an Open window two floors up. Daniel waved and stepped in the entryway. First let's check the mail, Daniel said absentmindedly and aloud in That manner of convincing oneself one was in charge humming "Penny Lane" In bits and pieces. "Bills and nothing else," Daniel sighed. "My life is looking very familiar so far. Must abide Every decision i make though. Best to have my life even if i lack dough."
"Call it what you will, Harold. My task is to figure All the things that I should know in this spacetime!" Laughing at this interjection, Harold shrugged, "It's just a change in time signature Let the new rhythm of your surroundings play you like a mime In his own imagination. You'll get the hang of it. It's Not like your companions in this spacetime are going to say 'Get out you imposter!' People always view you as they think you fit! Again, no one is expecting your new consciousness, okay? Let it go, it will be our little secret. Just be glad." Listening to Harold's calm certitude, Daniel recalled All the references to humans meeting angels he had read. Now the "Be not afraid" part of those passages galled Greatly! Hmph, easy for angels to say, he thought. Every member of Michael's army could not Levitate Daniel unless he could self-repair, his attitude was his altitude. He alone must walk on air.
Calling the dancer and the dance "So, yeah," Harold considered Daniel's summation Quickly, "Yeah, that is about right, all the timespanlines Up and go on and your consciousness takes a vacation. "A vacation?" Daniel exclaimed. "Well, yeah, without tan lines." "Really Harold, I am having a difficult time seeing how Ejecting me to an alternate reality is like a cruise." "Daniel, please stop conjecturing all the ways that endow Alternate realities with the equivalence of mental abuse. Not that you don't deserve that mind you! But you are fine! Continuing to breathe, are you? With your friend are you? Every thing looking roughly like spacetime you left? Why whine?" "Tell me," Daniel continued, "Does this vacation have a curfew? "It does not, you go onward not backward, OK Orpheus? Maybe it would be helpful to think of it a square dance without the fuss Every one bow to your partner, move on and forgive. It will make you smarter."
Sargeant Cooper's Office Taking one last sip of coffee, Oneal, got up. "It's about time you got here!" came Sgt. Cooper' boom "Make yourself at home, Oneal, have a cup!" Eyeing him suspiciously, Oneal closed the door to the room. "Sit down, Jack!" Cooper said with a grin, an expression so rare. People took it to be a sign of sadomasochism. Awaiting the impending lecture about his state of affairs No words could escape his lips. "The higher ups have noted your wisdom! Sly dog you! Gave me a commendation for the work you have done Lately. Good work! Need you to clear the table and start Investigating a bloke named Harold Angel." Oneal stared stunned. Next thing he knew his lap held a file at the dream case's heart Every lead he needed had come suddenly like a free gift Sgt. Cooper smiled. "Well off you go! Look over the file on your way to the lift"
"Detective Jack Oneal," Jack mumbled, savoring the promotion Almost within his grasp. "This Bloom case is my golden ticket. Rocket ride to the top it is!" The years Jack had drifted on the karmic ocean. "Knee is at it again, sport." The voice of his neighbor broke his thought thicket. "Might want to consider less coffee, mate." Officer Ann Sullivan, was Always giving Jack helpful pointers. None of which she herself applied. Taking another long sip of tea and incessantly tapping her pen plus The constant comments were her modus operandi. Jack replied "Ever consider auditioning for rock drummer, Ann? The Who Recently posted a vacancy." Jack sped up his leg jiggling. "How are your time card cases coming on then?" was her returned coo. Opening the Bloom file, Jack ignored her giggling. Reading the post-it note that was inside: Never mind the Bloom case, Oneal. See me in my office. "Hear goes," he sighed.
Jack's dream case The members of the chronos enforcement Investigation team hesitated. Finally, Jack Made an exasperated noise and bent Enough forward to indicate his intention to pay. "My treat, Mac" Policeman MacPherson, feigned surprised, "So kind of you, sir!" "Ok. Back to headquarters. I need to log my report." Less than fifteen minutes later, the men were sitting at their clutter: Inboxes towering and files scattered. But no Tsunami of any sort Caused this disarray. It was business as usual in police room 619. Every day it was like this. Most of the cases were petty time theft. Doctored time sheet here. Fraudulent work code there. Asinine Errors of missed opportunities for numerous lost and bereft Persons of all descriptions. But this one involving Daniel's alleged crime That was a whopper: Removing a hit pop song from an entire timeline!
"Harold?" Puzzled a voice behind a vase on the table's Other side back at the dimly lit Pub. "Why are we following this schizo around, constable? "Eternal access is worth some patience, you git!" Frowning, Jack almost watered the Marigolds with his words. Officer Jack Oneal had traipsed after Daniel daily for some time now. Rituals, such as furtive conversations with the unseen consorts, Angered the sensible nature of the Chronos force employee. "My vows Forbid me to become a Stockholm syndrome captive to the likes of Loopy interlopers like Daniel Bloom!" The barmaid interrupted: "'Ow we doin' then? Care for another of the same, Dove?" "We'll be paying now, thank you!" Jack erupted. "Eavens! No need to be short with me, then!" Rapidly calculating the tab, she set a slip between the men.
Timelinespan shifts. This was a mind-blower. Harold had told him some pretty strange things. Exchanging one's point of awareness into nowhere And everywhere's next timestream! Just think. Now he wondered what he was doing in the next tray-line directly! Somehow it was like instant ability to speak Whole new vocabularies of a previously Epistolary foreign language with only a meek Realization of the meanings of what lines you were panhandling! "I feel," said Dan, "an odd empathy with Arthur Dent. Suddenly your house and planet are victims standing Fixed like deer in bulldozer headlights sent On to execute urban renewal by eminent domain. Right when I was just about to enjoy the refrain: "TY Two on a tray. Bring us some stout and don't delay!"
"Let me see if i have got this straight," posed Daniel Every event in the timelinespan WITH the contract Tunnels forward but my consciousness has shifted to this timelinespan? I'll Go forward in both with awareness of only this one now?" "To be exact, Or rather as exact as Heisenberg allows, Yes," returned Harold. "Criminy! D-d-does this happen often?" Daniel stuttered? "Always and never, if you must know. What did you think Jesus meant when he told Us: 'My Father's House has many rooms?' He wasn't talking about angel-fluttered Seraphimville! He was talking about the universes. Although i like the multi-line Elliptical cafeteria metaphor better. Endless parallel tray lines filled with trays each Mostly the same: plates, utensils etc.; but each different: water on this tray, on that one wine And so on for the linear eternity of each tray support. But cafeterias didn't exist in 1 BCE. Newton is the best for most humans because action and reaction make the most sense. If you think too much about changing cafeteria lines, the lady with the hair net gets tense. Tis Gone. Down the rabbit hole. Whoosh. Humor is not a preservative, It is the main dish."
Ever loop the spacetime loop? Daniel emerged from the dimly lit pub and squinted. Eventually familiar contrast returned and outlines Came into focus. Soon the sound of footsteps behind hinted One was following him, and he guessed Harold, too, was now in sunshine. Daniel was a keen student of the Orpheus myth and did not look back. Even with Daniel now, Harold spoke: "Sorry, thought i recognized The bloke at the table behind you. I think his name is Jack. He wants design specs for the Believesphere. Almost compromised Everyone in a timelinespan. Dreadful power monger that belief-thief" Sighing at his own waning patience. Daniel did not reply. Pit pats of his own shoes and the phrase "willing suspension of disbelief" Imbued his surroundings with this odd sadness. One more sigh. "Right then, what happened to the contract? asked Daniel. "Look, I know you are confused and i am sorry. But it was the bait on the hook. That Song, the contract, all your work, mere conveniences to keep all belief from going berserk"
Harold smiled and waited then at last spoke. "Alright well. Must be some mistake. I may pass In likeness to this Harold, you know, but, is this some joke?" Laughter drained from Daniel like a slow tire leak, then came: "Oh, I embarrass Myself like this often. Please don't take offense. Amazing how close you resemble my friend, though." "Right well, I am off to an american football game. Chance You might want to join me? Vikings vs. Cowboys. "Oh, Football. Hm. Well. Sure!" Daniel knew when Harold works Using a familiarity shield was a necessary contrivance. Listening and following were key. Daniel always accommodated his quirks. "Let me just settle my tab then," Harold added. Then in advance Of his friend, Daniel silently ducked out. These strange recurring First meetings were more expected now. Behind Harold was slurring: "Grace tumbles miraculously into one's arms, when faith passes long bombs."
"Finally!" Said Daniel as Harold stretched out of his sleep. "Okay. What happened to the contract?" Rubbing his eyes, Harold yawned and tried to focus this blurry heap. "Who are you?" he asked squinting. "You can drop the act!" Answered Daniel. "You know very well, who I am!" Reaching in his wallet for the calling card Daniel had received in a Thai restaurant called "New Siam" More than twenty years ago. Harold glanced at it with little regard. "Oh, pleased to meet you Mr. Crayon." As he returned Very quickly a clipped coupon for Crayola Crayons. Everyone in the near vicinity of the two concerned Men burst out laughing. Daniel suddenly wished he wore his ray-bans Empty as he felt, to hide his shock and bewilderment. No. He would laugh it off. Make a joke of the predicament. "'The best laid schemes of mice and men, gang aft agley,' my friend."
Calmly Daniel waited for the man in slumberland: "Little Nemo," he chuckled as he imagined Harold On the barstool in footed sleeper pajamas. Numbers and Text glowed on a few cell phones near a Marigold Heap in a vase at a nearby table. He thought about Some poem he'd read once with a red wheelbarrow in it. Often the strangest thoughts popped out From his head like free-range chickens cooped for too long. When it Hit him: the reason Athena was born the way she was Every act of creation had an image or label from whence Amen took its lead. Finding the form to fill the spiritus: Very tricky business, that. "Pour you a stout? Pencil Eraser your buddy?" Broke in the barkeep's voice. "No. It belongs to my employer. Daniel answered. "Oy. Yes. Sorry. Forgot i was still holding it." "Shazama!" said Harold emerging from sleep's chasm.
For a moment Daniel wore a frown And then he paused; walked over to the bar; Saw a man lying with his head down; Touched his shoulder and then decided he better Ease into this. If this was Harold, he would be Really upset after being awoken. Taking no notice that everyone in the place was extremely Hushed and stared right at him. Finally, Daniel broke in: "Alright. Never mind then. I found him." He thought aloud, distantly "New Jersey's Light Experiment?" Daniel mused that he'd Looped from one timespanline into another. Preinstantly. It made sense. He had expected to see the agreed Goal after initiating his intent, but faster-than-light Has it own set of rules. Like a 15-line sonnet. A bright Telestar-design with materials unknown: arriving unannounced and alone.
Thinking outside the outbox Daniel woke and his office was calm. Eraser. Check. Outbox. Check. Contract. Contract? Jarring to the fact it was gone had repercussions like a bomb. All right. He thought. No need to overreact. Very carefully he looked everywhere: Under papers. In drawers. In his attache case. All to no avail. Got to tell Harold. He dashed down the stairs. Leaving his office building in a blur. Wiping sweat from his face. Looking pale he entered the pub to hear One more time the TV playing the Abbot and Costello skit Very dazed he scanned the bar. "Has Harold been here?" Everyone including the barkeep looked a bit Riled and puzzled. "Who's Harold?" At last the barkeep replied. Again "Who" echoed from the TV and Daniel stood dumb and wide-eyed.
"Oh, that." Said Harold. "Well, there is something that, Until now, I neglected to tell you about the finished contract. Thanks for finishing it. You don't need to worry. Drat..." Blushing, Harold trailed off as if ruing his lack of tact. "Officially, you did need to finish it in order for the X-axis of the timespanline to be complete..." "What do you mean 'Officially?' "Uh... Okay, look the contract no longer is a neat Resolution to the timespanline. However Making it in the way i told you to helped Honor a commitment and so the contract severs Options that were detrimental and cancelled a Lesser dependency that would have existed as an unstable singularity." "Explain." "The outbox ate it. And now it is void. Ensue hilarity."
The Joke's On When Harold woke he could hear the pub's High definition TV playing Abbott and Costello's Oratory. But his question was "What's up?" It was coming from his left and also Someone's familiar voice was saying it! "Open your eyes and look this way. No over here!" said Daniel almost spraying it. Finally Harold focused on Daniel. "Hey! It's you! Well is it finished? The Contract? "Right! It's done. So now what?" Dan Saw that Harold was still processing the impact The last dream was having on the timelinespan. "I can talk to you later if you prefer? But Don't know what to do now. My career is kaput."
Curious as it all was: this discovery of the Believesphere, Reductionism was not an option. That was the lesson Everyone learned from the Ark of the Covenant. Here Allah, there Jehovah. Whatever one calls upon To name the one true God. The lesson of creation Everywhere is: not for me alone. Since God allows Free will, we must follow God's lead of service beyond nation Or make the mistake of pride. Harold had seen many shallow Reasons to abuse God's gifts. But everything was a gift dressed Of God. Harold should not view what he does as what God Triumphantly does. All his actions are imitations of a more blessed Healing nature. It was right to study and copy. Nod Endlessly to the source. Never fool oneself to imagine what inward courses Relinquishes control to those into whom it pours.
Even when Daniel first met Harold, he never roused him. X-Ray vision, it wasn't, but some sense that Harold dreamed Purposefully and one had best not interrupt that on a whim. Looking at him, head down at the bar, he seemed At least somewhat like a student in grade school. "Irritating the Believesphere," that is what Harold would call it. Not that Daniel really understood what that meant. The drool In front of Harold made Daniel laugh. All it Needs is a little cocktail umbrella and it could be a Georgia beach scene in miniature. Much like the world Tony inhabited in the song Daniel still hummed. Atrophy Of will is what Daniel attributed it all to; as loneliness unfurled. Now he had a story to tell and no one to hear it. Yes, now he knew how Tony must have felt and he would bear it.
Perspective Daniel had worked for the music publisher Ever since he could remember Feeling his achievement as a deep fissure Yawning before him, he leaned into it like December Into January. Time for the new. And up he stood. Nodded to his coworkers. And left the desks. Grinned at the security guards. Broke from the contracts for Good. The liberty of it was astounding. At Kate Bush's behest: Rolling over in the big sky over the empty plodding Avalanche of his career, he walked into an Irish pub Validating the man in front of the jukebox's choice by nodding In rhythm and sitting at the bar he asked. "Wassup?" Taking no time to address the barkeep and order his usual stout; "Yo! Where's Harold?, Daniel asked. The keep nodded at a sleeping man: "Just stepped out."
Daniel put the contract in the out box on his desk. Only for some reason, he could not move on. "Open the folder, just open it and start reading the next." Was his own inner voice's chiding tone. And yet he felt that his work was finished. He had no urge to correct another agreement. Daniel blinked. He felt very odd. He felt diminished Inside and also complete. Previously work was like watching cement Dry. But this waltzing dead horseshoe crab theme satisfied Daniel to no end. Maybe it connected the dancer to the dance. Yet it kept going over and over. Like a lovely stratified Depth of canyon wall. You look into the abyss of it and by chance Unleash the awe of its history right now. Many people never see it in a lifetime. Here it was. Kapow.
Really, thought Harold, looking at eternity is like viewing One side of a cube head on, looks like a square, but its Universe extends beyond what one can see cueing Never ending imagination to fill in the blanks. God fits Dimension 10 on the edge of Dim 9 and so on. Forever fertile. Hallelujah! Like the lady at the Hawking lecture squealed: "Oh, you are a very clever young man, but its Turtles Leading all the way down!" When you look at a field, Even through a chain-link fence, you can focus and the fence Steps forward, focus again the field is brave. Quiet momentum led scientists to agree: Look for the chance Universe and see design. It looks like a particle, acts like a wave. All pointing toward the same change as when moving sun Red, Cubed, stands still in the sky, dashes old science, infuses a new one.
"My father's house has many rooms." Although Harold had always liked this quotation, Never had it come to so resonate and bloom Yet as that day years ago in his Physics class. The equation Did not make sense but the concept was clear. "If we can sense 4 dimensions, why can't there be more?" More dimensions? But how to make them appear? Every waking moment after that class like never before, New thoughts filled him of what shape best described Sequential dimensions four through ten: Isometric projections, polyhedrons, cells inscribed On polychorons, but nothing could sate the woken Need for the palpable concept-object he lacked. Sure there was one, he cast his palabra, and forged the spheroidal tesseract.
So as Harold looks on through the hut's window Into his current slice of life he thinks Long about how he had come to winnow Eternity from each moment. Each a lovely, long drink. Now he understands the "careful what you wish for" legend. Crayon of creation: that is what Harold found Early on that morning when he imagined— Imaged may be a better word—the Believesphere. It sounds So silly but he had to laugh that he is, Generally speaking, like the children's book boy Only his purple marker is his mind. This Lunacy, as most consider it, is his greatest joy. Dawning ideas he soaks in and in reflection Sends them transformed, bouncing in every direction.
Harold woke and perused the small hut. A square space on the wall across from him Revealed the palms on the beach and what- Ever gulls happened to be drifting in the dim After-dream sunset. He refocused and the window Now, itself, caught his imagination. He thought: "Dimensions are like windows: Glimpses into How our neighbors' live. And the universe caught Onion-like with layers of window shades. High Rises and windows. Yeah. That is the broad Stroke of the galaxy. While the daily cry Encumbers us to no end. Imagine what God Shows us and how we block it out with false need. Hoe the row. While so many windows remain unfreed."
Getting a glimpse at a joke from the borderline Needs some explanation, but sometimes One likes the mystery better than the punchline. Many have accused me of forced rhymes, Errors in meter, and the occasional birthday card. I cannot stand guiltless to such accusations So i simply prove their point and move onward. Time has its way of telling on our pun-tifications. O muse of mischief, please laugh not if i place Lucky charms in your cream of celery soup. Or wake you in a blizzard with hood over my face Via your cellar window as if a burglar at your stoop. Every silly happenstance rolls down my cheek to make Me happy for the times we shared. Complete with mistakes.
