Solving a Puzzle/Birth of Superspy
I am a fast reader, and I always was. I learned speed-reading at an early age, and used it a lot. It came in handy when I settled to read the hypnotism book. The book was only about 100 pages, I was done with it in a matter of minutes. I left a note on the kitchen table, saying I wasn't feeling well, was going to sleep and didn't want to be disturbed. Some truth in that note. I didn't want to be disturbed. Sleep, that was another matter. And the confusion I felt was enough to make me ill. And, from the book, self-hypnosis was easy, and I had myself ready to solve my puzzle.
I began to put myself into a hypno-state. As I went deeper into it, I suggested to myself that I would be able to remember if Diane had succeeded, and what she may have suggested to me. After what I guessed was about 10 minutes, my mind released the secrets.
Diane had managed to hypnotize me. I made a suggestion to myself that she would not be able to do so again, unless I suggested she try. But the suggestions she made remained difficult to bring up to the surface. Finally, I stopped trying so hard, and just let myself drift. That's when the suggestions began to bubble to the surface of my mind. Interestingly, there were only 3 that came to mind.
The first was "Release your emotions, reveal them to me." That really didn't bother me at all. I was the type to release my emotions anyway. I had a hot temper, and could be very moody at times. Nothing to change in the suggestion, I let it go.
The second suggestion was more straight forward. "Sing for me." Well, I had planned on that, too. All she had done was reinforce what I had planned. I would write a love song just for her, and I hoped she would join in singing it. Of course, I knew nothing about love. But I doubted that she did, either. So, again, there wasn't much to do.
The last suggestion was a bit cryptic, even if a straight suggestion. "Please me." I couldn't help but wonder what that meant. Was that why I called her "Dear", instead of "Diane"? I could please, alright. But what was meant? Since the suggestion seemed a bit odd, and a bit too suggestive, I squelched it. I replaced the idea, with something different. "Play along, but carefully. Don't lie, or lead her on. Simply accept, and respond appropriately." I searched my mind for any thing else that seemed wrong, or new. There was nothing else. I looked for anything, any clue as to what I might have said in my hypnotized state. There were no clues. I had been in the trance for over an hour, but I had no idea what I might have said, or done. Either it was nothing done, or Diane had managed to erase any trace, and very effectively. I suspected that unless I asked her, I would never know. But there was no way that I was going to ask, and give up my slight advantage that I had gained.
I roused myself from my hypnotized state, and went to the magic store a half mile away. I bought a hypnotist's coin, and a few tricks. I would be ready if Diane tried to sneak into my mind again with her ploys. Not this time, I pledged to myself. I will learn the truth.
That night, I wrote 3 songs. Two of them were based on advice Wayne had given me. One was a love song for Diane. I kicked myself for writing it, especially on such short notice. Then, I called her number. No answer. I guessed she was still out-of-town, at the funeral, or possibly on the way back and had not yet reached town. There was no way to find out.
I took out my microphones, my recording stereo, and 2 eight track tapes. I played for 45 minutes, listening to my songs for 45 minutes afterwards. I added my harmonies, and then listened again. Satisfied, I put my guitar back into its case, put the tape with the guitar, and then called Wayne. I asked if we were still practicing tomorrow, and he replied in the affirmative. I told him I was bringing my tape, he could listen to my songs, and tell me what he thought of them. We agreed on a noon practice time, and we said our goodbyes. It was late, I wanted to get ready for bed. But something kept me up. It was late, but I dialed the Lester's number one more time. This time, Diane answered, and I was astounded when she answered with "Hi, Mikey." I hadn't said a thing. Her display of telepathy caused me to flip out!
"How did you know it was me, Diane?" I asked. "I didn't say a word! You simply couldn't have guessed!"
"Oh, Mikey, I have my ways, " she teased. "I knew it was you! You're a few minutes later than I expected, though! Were you on the phone? Is that why you are late?"
"I promised to sing you a song, Diane. Do you have the time to listen to one now? I know it's late, but I have the time to play, if you have the time to listen!" She said that she had the time, and I took out my guitar. Then I sang. I sang the song I had written, the one which I called "Wandering for Love". I poured all my emotions into it, played with more feeling than I could ever have done in private. The song lasted about 5 minutes, then I played the final notes, and picked up the receiver which I had placed in front of the amp. My microphone had been hooked up to my amp, so I was easily hearable.
"Well, Diane, what do you think?" I asked. "When I wrote this, I was thinking of you." I thought See what you've done to me, Diane? Mike, you've got to get a hold of yourself!
Diane sighed, from the other end of the phone. I couldn't tell what type of sigh, however. "It's wonderful, Mike," she said. "Do you have more?"
"I will play you more when you get back to the cabin," I said. "You are the only one who I've ever played for, aside from my group leader. My group leader wants to record it tomorrow. I've already put it on tape for him."
She sighed again. "Good night, Mikey." Then she said something in that language that she had spoken a few days before. "Usingizi nafuu, angu penzi."* Or something like that. Before I could ask her to repeat it, or what it meant, or what language it was, she had hung up.
Before I settled down to sleep, I wondered again how she knew it was me calling. I recalled her words, "You're a few minutes later than I expected, though! Were you on the phone? Is that why you are late?" Very unusual. How could she have guessed that it was
me, or that I was on the phone? Now, I began to suspect
that when she had hypnotized me, that was a suggestion. She had wanted me to call at a specific time. She had wanted me to sing. Now, I realized that I had done it again. I was a fly in a spider web's; the spider homing in on my vibrations. The whole thing was becoming plain.
It was time for sleep. I dozed off in a few minutes, and the dreams of Diane began again. Would I ever be able to control them? Or was this my own personal Waterloo? I awoke once, to find that I had become tangled in the sheets. I straightened them out, then went back to sleep.
Next day, I was awakened by my alarm. I showered, and true to form, I would sing in the shower. But today, I couldn't even sing a note. I tried to speak, but I had no voice at all. Oh, that was great. My voice was barely a whisper. I called Wayne, telling him what I could -- and it wasn't easy. Wayne told me he'd stop by and pick up the tape I had made, He drove, I didn't. Then he told me to call the doctor. I had that done for me, but the only thing I was told to do was rest my voice. The doctor was filled with appointments for the day, I couldn't get in. But I was told if my voice wasn't better by late evening, I was supposed to go in the next day. Not likely! I would be going back to the cabin tonight, and I had no intention of staying in town another day. Mom mixed up an old-fashioned honey and lemon deal that was supposed to help my voice. Then she walked a short distance to a neighboring pharmacy to ask the druggist about what could be done. Whatever she got worked, though. I began to get my voice back by about 3PM.
When Wayne stopped in to get the tape, I tried to apologize for my voice going out. He dismissed it, said he had developed the same thing just a week earlier. Some bug was going around, apparently. He told me that he'd listen to the tape, and transfer what he could to the reel-to-reel that he had set up. He also told me that he would add his bass part, dubbing in what he felt was best for it, adding other vocals, or piano if appropriate. I gave him a lyric sheet with chords for the songs on the tape, and then went back inside, to sleep some more. But I found myself thinking of Diane, again. This was not good, I thought. But I couldn't get my mind off her. Finally, I formulated a final plan, my way to get space, and learn what she was really thinking. I decided a spy would be the only way I could really learn what was going on. Steve immediately came to mind. He owed me a favor, a big one. The previous year, he had been accused of vandalism and theft. But I had been his alibi, and it was soon determined that someone else had been the guilty party. When I got back to the lake, I would talk to Steve.
Dad pulled in from his long trip at about 4:30. He was tired, but said he wanted to get back to the lake, because it was so relaxing there. I tossed my suitcase in the car. Then, I grabbed my library books. And, for the first time, I picked up the guitar and amp, and stuck them in the back seat. I had never taken them to the lake before. I had song ideas floating around in my head, and I wanted to write them down, with chords. And, of course, I would sing for Diane again. After all, I had promised.
Traffic was very heavy that night. A terrible accident on the highway had shut it down, and we were forced into an alternate route. But, I didn't even look at the area, didn't look at anything except my notebook, in which I placed the lyric for 6 different songs, that night alone!
Then, I closed my eyes, and hoped that we'd be early enough for me to go up to Steve's place and talk to him about what I wanted. But, by the time we pulled in, it was late, there had been just too much traffic on the road that night. There had been an accident on the alternate route, as well, so when we arrived, I knew it was too late to go up to Steve's. I'd have to do so in the morning. It would give me a little more time to determine exactly what I wanted Steve to do. Sleep took me quickly, and it was a dreamless night, for a change. I would awake well rested, clear mind, and alert enough to tell Steve just what I wanted.
I walked up to Steve's about 9:30 AM. Something odd was going on. I then saw the sign "Garage Sale." Steve was behind the selling table, but greeted me quickly, and asked his dad to take his spot for a few minutes. We walked off to a quiet spot.
"So, what's shaking, Mike?" he asked.
"Well, Steve, I hope you can do me a favor this next week. I need you to be a spy for me."
"Spy? On whom?", he asked. "what's the deal, and why do you need a spy?"
I told him what I wanted. I said that I needed him to hang around Diane for a week. I needed to know what she thought of me, or if I was just a game to her. I gave him a short list of "code words", and suggested that we meet daily, to get me informed about what he had learned. Steve laughed a bit.
"This is one job I will truly enjoy," he said. I summed up the whole situation, and then gave a final word. "After 5 days, or so, I want to know everything you may have learned about Diane, and what she thinks of me. Then, back off. I'm going to have a go at her, game or not."
Steve tipped his hat over his eyes, and said "This is a job for Superspy!" We both laughed and code named our little scheme "Operation Superspy."
* According to the computer program Universal Translator 2000, this means “Sleep well, my love.” I do not vouch for accuracy.