IF ONLY WE COULD BOTTLE THAT

    I’m not sure exactly when I woke up.  I don’t know exactly where the line is between being unconscious and conscious.  I do know that I was very confused.
	“Mr. Grains, you’ve been in a traffic accident.  You’re in the hospital; we’re taking care of you.”  Her face was pleasant, but there was something wrong.  There was something she wasn’t telling me.  She gave me a plastic smile and walked away.

	At first, I thought there was something wrong with my arms, but then I realized they were strapped down.  There was also some sort of cloud muddling all my thoughts.  I remembered an old lesson, and went to work.

	The brain is an incredible organ; the mind is even more incredible.  Where one stops and the other starts is hard to say; its like trying to define where your body stops and your spirit starts.  My unusual upbringing helped me understand a lot in these things.  My grandmother had been called a mountain witch, and it was quite a badge of honor.  The lessons she knew were more often passed on through the female of the line, but I had been an exception.  I’d learned much; to see auras, to feel moods and to calm myself when needed.  And now, I cleared away the cloud in my head.  With a clear head, I could think.  I reached out with my mind and felt around.

	There were other people around.   They felt sedated.  Some felt very weak.  But there was something else I could feel; something in the distance that felt. . . just. . . wrong.  Some sort of energy hole.  I’d never felt anything like it, and it scared the shit out of me.  At 22 years old, I was rarely afraid of anything or anybody, but this hole gave me a terror.

	For all appearances, I was in a hospital.  But from what I could sense, (or more importantly, what I didn’t), something was wrong.  It was quieter than it should be  There were things missing; worried loved ones couldn’t be felt anywhere.  The ones with busy, working minds were the staff.  They felt unusually cold and uncaring.  Unhurried, and unconcerned, too.  And then, out of the edge of my perception (which I had learned was 100 feet on a good day), I felt another mind.  He wasn’t so cold; he seemed quite happy.  The others tensed up around him, which meant he was in charge.  Suddenly, I realized he was heading toward me.  So, I pulled myself back into my body and groggily prepared to find out just what was going on.

	“Good morning, Mr. Grains.  I’m Doctor Morgan Sonnen.”  The man was middle-aged, tall and thin.  His skin was tanned, and he appeared to have a somewhat athletic frame.  He looked at me directly when he greeted me, and then went to looking at the contents of a clipboard while he continued talking.  “You’re probably wondering why your arms are strapped down.  I assure you, it was done for your own well being.  You see, you’ve suffered a head trauma, and you probably have some memory loss.  As a matter of fact, this is the third time I’ve seen you.  I only offer you my word that you’ve been less than sedate lately.  Some of the medicines we’ve been forced to give you to reduce the swelling of your brain can have some nasty side-effects.”  Now, he looked at me, waiting for a reply.  I asked,
	“How  . .how long have I been here?”
	“You’ve only been in this room for a couple of days.  You were in intensive care for several days.  I’m sure as long as you continue along your path to wellness we’ll remove the restraints.”  A nurse entered with a bouquet of flowers; yellow tulips.  She placed them on a table.  She stated “These are from your mother.  She and your father went out to get some breakfast.”
	“Yes, I’m afraid we couldn’t allow flowers in the IC Ward.  But you’re doing better, now.”
	“What hospital is this?”									
	“Atlanta Baptist East.  I need to ask you a few questions to see how you’re feeling.  Okay?”  I nodded.  “What is your full name?”
	“Jonathan Joseph Grains”
	“Birthday?”											
	“March 7th”
	“Where were you raised?”
	“Um. . . Hyden, Kentucky.”
	“Very good.  I’m going to have you sent down for a cranium electronic resonance scan shortly.”
	“When can I get out of here?”
	“Oh, this place will be a memory before you know it.”  He smiled, and walked out.  All I could think of was how my mother always hated yellow tulips.
	As the nurse was closing the door, I said, “Ma’am?  I need to use the restroom.”  She 
smiled, and replied, “I’ll get Reginald to help you.  He’ll be right in.”. I closed my eyes and started my prayer:  “Spirits of my allies, spirits of my friends.  Come to me in this time of need, for I need you once again.  Spirits of my allies, spirits of my friends.  Come to me in this time of need, for I need you once again. . . “  I concentrated on my center, and concentrated on the Earth Mother, giving myself a firm connection to it.  There was still some residual fog which filtered away.  Then, before I knew it, six foot 4 inches tall by 250 pound Reginald entered the room.
undid my straps and my I. V.  I could feel a coldness about him; I was just another subject to him, completely un-human.  There were deep scars in his spirit.  I looked up at him and sent an outward feeling of frailty.  “Help me up?”  He did.  I leaned on him as he helped me to the bathroom.  While we were walking, I silently asked for forgiveness.  And then, I did what I had 
to do.  Inside his mind I went.  His wounds penetrated the surface of his spirit, for he used them to give him power; to justify his actions.  I saw flashes, and tore.
	“You didn’t deserve to be beaten.  You deserve to be loved.”  He stopped, dead in his tracks.  With eyes wide, he turned and glared at me.  I continued, “You did what you had to do to survive.  Your past is behind you.  You can’t change who you were, but you CAN change who you will be.”  I felt his mind racing, and with small nudges, I gently guided its direction.  He demanded, “How do you-“
	“What is going on here in this place, Reggie?  What is it they do here?”  Fear welled up behind his eyes, and his mind flashed to the horror he feared the most, and I saw his memory.  
	There was a hallway.  I could hear the wheels of a gurney on the floor.  A teenage girl was on it, eyes looking like dull marbles amid red and swollen flesh.  I heard Sonnen’s voice speak:  “Reginald, what you see here isn’t a young girl.  She drugged and whored herself into obscurity.  She has at least 3 kinds of sexually transmitted diseases, and her last trip took away most of her sanity.  Now, she could be cared for by tax dollars for the rest of her life, or we could do our nation a service.”  Reginald swung open a very thick metal door, revealing a white, clean room.  In the ceiling was a device shaped like a crescent moon the length of the gurney.  Cables hung down at one end.  The gurney was rolled in and placed under the device.  The doctor worked some controls at a console and the device lowered.  Sonnen continued speaking as he worked near the girl’s head.  “Fossil fuels, fission, fusion. . . All these messy ways to harness 
energy.  They either pollute, are dangerous, or just too damn expensive.  But here-“  A drill could be heard- “We have a way to harness that elusive spark of life, and transfer it into clean energy.”  The  drill stopped, and cables were moved into place.  “Of course, not everyone has the same amount of spark.  I’m sure you’ve watched small children, admired their energy, and stated how you wish we could bottle it.” He laughed.  “Well, we can!  But now, its time for us to leave the room while the instrument does its work.  I like to think of all the useful work electricity can do; so much more good than the world would ever have gotten out of her!”

	I snapped back to the here and now.  Only a moment of real time had passed.  Scared shitless, I pleaded, “Reggie!  Look man, I’m not a druggie!  This is wrong!  You know it!  You’ve got to help me get out of here!”
	“Guards.  Too many.  And when they energy-scanned you-“
	“When they WHAT?!”
	“Energy-scan.  It’s how they tell if you’re worth it or not.  I heard ‘em say you’ve got a lot; a whole lot.  They don’t know how, or why, but they want to study and see why.“
	Suddenly, two more men busted into the room.  Both were holding tasers.  Reggie turned and looked at them, and then back at me.  Aloud, and in his mind, I said, “Reggie.  This is the moment.  This is the moment that defines who you are NOW.”  His eyes dropped.  He turned, and ran toward the 2 men.  Tasers went off, one going wild and the other hitting Reggie.  He went to the floor, twitching.  I grabbed the vase of tulips and threw it at one of the guards.  It hit 
him in the head, shattering.  As he went down, the other pulled a baton and came at me.  Then, things moved slowly – but only for me.
	I ducked the swing at my head.  I thrust upward with the open palm of my left hand at the bottom of his chin, clamping his teeth shut on part of a now-bleeding tongue.  As he staggered backwards, I grabbed the baton with my right hand, still advancing on him.  I hooked my right foot just behind his left, and then continued moving my weight forward and down, landing
 on top of him on the floor.  His head hit the hard floor with an unpleasant sound as blood filled his mouth.  I stopped and looked around; 3 down, time to go!
	Out into the hallway I ran.  I felt outwardly, trying to decide which way to go.  Right.  I ran past doors, numbered in the 300s.  Third floor.  I saw a fire alarm pull and went to pull it – but got the sudden impression not to.  Around a corner I ran, and came face to face with a keypad beside a door which read “stairs”.  I placed my hand over the pad, closed my eyes, and felt minute movements of energy moving in some sections, and not others.  Move it into other sections.  Energize.  Energize.  “Click”.  The door unlocked.  I opened it and ran down the stairs.
	Down I went, as fast as I could.  At the bottom, I exploded through a door into a room and immediately saw my breath in the cold air.  The room was filled with covered gurneys.  .  There were people; dozens of them, dead and lifeless.  I could hear my heart thudding in my ears.  Tags hung from toes sticking out from under the covers.  I ran toward the door at the other end.  There was a small window in the door, and just as I ran up to it, I saw people walk past.  I 
stopped in my tracks.  I tried to peer out the window, but all I could make out was that it opened into a hallway.  I listened, and then felt with my mind.  Sonnen was near, along with one worker and someone unconscious.  I heard a door close.  Slowly, and carefully, I opened the door.  The hallway was empty.  Out I crept, and toward the door the others had went into.  Looking through its small window, I could see them moving a person into position under the hideous device.  The doctor moved over to the console.  He stopped suddenly, staring at it.  I heard him say “These readings aren’t right.  These look like. . .”  Then, he turned and looked at me.
	I ran.  Down the hall, through another door.  Past patient rooms.  Then, as I opened another door, something stung my back, and suddenly my body was on the floor convulsing with electricity.  Every muscle flexed too far; it was sheer agony.  The world spun as I was picked up and carried.  As I saw the door, I started to try to resist, only to be shocked again.  I didn’t even feel them manhandle me onto the gurney.  Straps seemed to hold me everywhere.  One went tight across my forehead.  Then, something was clamped onto my head.  The headache started.
	I heard Sonnen’s calm voice.  “You see this section of waveforms here?  We can only theorize what this entire section of brain activity is about.  Never before could we even see these wavelengths divided up; they were always on top of each other.”  Sonnen’s face appeared looking down at me.  He smiled.  “You’re completely immobile.  You’re quite unique; I’m very pleased to have you.  There’s a depth to your mind that we rarely see.”
	“Fhhuck off”  He smiled a little, and continued, “Ah, I see you have some sort of grasp of 
the situation.  We’ve hooked you up to the helmet.  Normally, this is when we’d drill into your brain and start the harvest process.  However, I’m more interested in using the electrodes.  They’re capable of creating small electrical pulses inside your brain.  It’s miraculous, really.  For example, if I want you to feel sad”  Suddenly, an overwhelming sadness overwhelmed me.  I felt myself crying, with no reason or any control over it.  Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.  He continued, “So, you see, I can control your emotions and measure your energy output.  Of which you have a miraculous amount of.  And memories, too.”  A flash went through my brain, of the traffic accident.
Another voice said, “Doctor Sonnen, that was a fresh memory.  I’m more interested in his past.”  Then, there was a flash from high school.  He bragged, “You know, we can go back farther than you can.”  A fear shot through me; a realization of what they could do.  The other voice said, “Doctor?  Something just registered in the fear section.”  Sonnen said, “Ahh.  So, I’ve found something powerful, yes?”  I pleaded,
	“Don’t.”  A memory flashed of when I was a child; it was when they buried my grandfather.  Then, of when I dropped a toy car into a storm drain.  “Stop.”  Sonnen smiled.  A flash of a mobile above my crib.  Then, the sound of a heartbeat.  Then. . .
	Smoke.  Stench of death.  The burning of gunpowder in my nostrils.  A compound; a sign which read “Achtung”.  More flashes.  A power surging through me.  Voices; mechanical sounds; black men on a stage being sold, and me bidding.  In the background, I heard Sonnen 
yelled “Needles are pegged!”. The sound of metal clashing with metal.  It felt as if the sun itself was burning through me.  I felt the straps starting to give.  A deafening roar.  And then, silence and blackness.
	I awoke, laying on the floor.  I smelled burnt electronics.  Blood in my mouth; dried on my face, sticking to the floor.  Darkness.  My ears were ringing; my head was throbbing.  Finally, I saw light coming in through the little window in the door.  The window appeared to be moving, but it was that jilted, dizzy movement.  And then, it did move as the door opened.  
Silhouettes came in through the door; how many, I don’t know.  There were voices, but I couldn’t hear them over the ringing in my ears  Then, as my vision started to clear, a woman came in.  She was dressed in a suit; straight lines showing as little humanity as possible.  “Pick him up”, she told them, and I was hauled to my feet.  My legs were like wet noodles.  I tried to stand, but couldn’t.  She walked over to me and grabbed my chin with a hand like a vise.  There was no emotion behind those glasses, under that brown hair done up in a bun.  She studied me like a specimen, looking in my eyes.  Finally, she stated “He’ll live.  He’s in a good state.  Let’s clean up this mess.”  She turned and marched out.  I felt a needle and all went black.
I awoke, staring at a plain ceiling.  My head ached.  I smelled that “just been cleaned” smell. The door going into the hallway was open.  I could hear sounds, but it was comforting, because they belonged.  Suddenly, a face appeared.  It was a good friend of mine.  “Jon!  Can you hear me?  I’m right here, Jon.”
“Where am I, Bobby?”
“The hospital.  Atlanta Baptist East.  You had a crash, man.  You’ve been out for like a week.  Can you stay awake a while?  Yer mom & dad are down the hall.”  On a nearby table, I saw a bouquet of baby’s breath.  I had never more happier to see such flowers.  I asked, “When did I get here?”
“You’ve been here the whole time, man.  You were listed as a “John Doe” for damn near
a week;  all your I D was messed up in the crash.”
“The whole time, huh?”
“Yeah, but it took us nearly a week to find you.  We were scared shitless, man”
I heard feet slapping at a run on the floor in the hallway and a voice saying not to run.  Bobby turned and looked out the door and a child ran by.  Bobby said, “Man, I wish we could bottle that energy.”  He turned to me and smiled, but quickly looked puzzled.  “You okay?”  
“Don’t ever say that, man.” Now, I knew everything would be written off as a delusion.  But I knew better.