Outview (24 page)

For the next few hours, Rose told me
everything she knew about the astral, but it wasn’t working for me. After that,
I spent a long time with her going through what she considered the best New Age
books. She was blown away by my ability to “read.” Mom called from the road on
her new cell phone.

I explained that Rose believed I was too
tired and stressed to effectively see anything on the astral.

“I want you to know that I believe in you
and love you very, very much.” Her voice betrayed the strength in her words.
She was barely holding on. I knew in that moment that if Dustin died, my mom
would cease to be, even if she survived.

35

Thursday, September 25

I couldn’t believe the clock as I awoke
from a deep sleep. It was almost noon, which meant for more than twelve hours
there had been peace. Aunt Rose was with clients. I went into the kitchen, made
a sandwich, grabbed a Coke, and called Mom.

She had talked to five or six lawyers. “It’s
like they only let idiots pass the bar,” she said. “They keep telling me there
isn’t much I can do. The government has all kinds of powers to detain citizens
if they are suspected of aiding terrorists. Never mind that Dustin hasn’t done
anything. The lawyers say not knowing where he’s held makes things even more
difficult. Talk about stating the obvious. One of them suggested I should
contact the media.”

“Bad idea. Dad’s friend Lee had the same
plan. That’s what started this whole nightmare.”

“I can’t just sit here waiting.”

“We’ll find him,” I said. “As soon as Aunt
Rose is done with her clients, we’ll get back to our search. Have some faith,
Mom. This psychic stuff is for real.”

“I’ll try.” She sounded distracted.

“Sam said his sister is involved in some
big case right now in New York but that she should be able to talk tomorrow or
Monday at the latest,” she said.

“Damn it! Did you tell him about Dustin?
Can’t he get her on the phone in the evening or sooner? She’s his sister!”

“He was appalled about Dustin being
abducted. Thinks it’s gotta be a mistake or, he said, if you really did stumble
into some corruption, then it’s a blatant act of harassment and his sister will
make a huge case over all this. But he did say that proving your dad was
murdered may be difficult unless we have some evidence.”

“I haven’t told him about the other ten
Montgomery Ryders dying or the whole Lee Duncan story. I’ll fill him in, but
what about Dustin in the meantime?”

“That’s why I’m still calling people. Oh
and on top of everything, Mrs. Little called a few minutes ago. She said that
some of your teachers have suggested you might be cheating. You were perfect in
algebra, aced a chemistry quiz, embarrassed your English teacher, and had a
conversation in fluent French.”

“Not a bad day’s work.”

“I’d say. Then she wanted to know why you
weren’t in school. I told her that I didn’t like her accusing my son of
cheating, that you’ve been working with a private tutor, and that your results
clearly show that the school was not adequate for your needs.”

“Way to go, Mom!”

“Back when Dustin was having all that
trouble, she was the one who really pushed me to have him committed. I’m not
buying what she’s selling anymore. I told her we were pulling you out to be
home-schooled by private tutors.”

“What’d Little say?”

“That we should meet to discuss options and
legal requirements. I said I’d be in touch.”

“She probably wasn’t very happy.”

“That woman is never happy.”

After more practice, I could see Dustin but
not on the astral. Instead, I was just getting glimpses of him using prophecy. For
some reason, using a dark pan filled with water was easier than the crystal
ball. I was getting pieces and visions, which Rose said were indications of the
future that only meant he was alive right now. Interpreting prophetic images
was an art, she said, handing me a book about a famous seer named Nostradamus.

Aunt Rose saw more on the astral--a green
brick house in the trees, high on a hill with a deck overlooking orchards, almost
certainly Oregon, and maybe somewhere in the Rogue Valley but it wasn’t
possible to pinpoint. Dustin was alive, but he was looking pale and feverish, “like
someone going through withdrawal from drugs,” Rose said.

“What about his getting to us on the astral?
You said you had taught him.”

“I always helped him. I think he could
probably do it on his own by now, if he stays off the meds, but he’d have to
get over the withdrawal first.”

“Then, what can we do?”

“You’re seeing Spencer Copeland tomorrow. He
can find Dustin.”

“By then it’ll be more than forty-eight
hours since they took him.”

“I know it, honey. But at least he seems to
be nearby. The best thing is for me to teach you all I know.”

Rose started explaining colors, her
favorite subject. We went over chakras, auras, the colored pops, color meanings,
symbols, and reflections. For hours, she told me what she knew. At the same
time I held onto books on each topic. The colored pops, she said, were like
shorthand between the universe and our human personalities. Understanding the
significance of each color and its many shades would require meditation, but
her books on colors gave me a strong head start.

She taught me to read faces, saying you
don’t have to go into the clutter of peoples minds to find out what they’re
thinking, feeling, where they’ve been, what they’ve seen. “It’s all on their
faces and in their eyes. Everything gets recorded in lines, tones, shape of
noses, the hue of cheeks, pattern of forehead lines, thickness or thinness of
eyebrows, dryness of lips. You can spend hours reading a face.” Then it was on
to body language and what our movements reveal. When I thought that lesson was
over, she told me how best to conceal what my own face and movements could give
away.

It was easy to understand her humor-filled lectures.
The astral was a huge topic, but she gave more of the basics, adding details to
the brief introduction she’d given me the prior weekend. Still, it was
overwhelming at times, and once when I expressed my frustration, she took my
hand in hers. “Honey, always remember that understanding this spiritual stuff
is far simpler than understanding people and their personalities. The soul at
least makes sense.”

Then we moved to guide writing. This was
more difficult than I expected. Rose had me sit quietly in front of the
computer with my fingers lightly resting on the keyboard. She did it with a pen
and paper. “It’s how I learned,” she said. “It’s easier for me, but your
generation hardly knows what a pencil is anymore.” I cleared my mind as she
instructed and waited. Later, she said, I could ask specific questions, but for
now I was to just let my guides talk about whatever they deemed most important.
Nothing happened for half an hour. I decided this was not for me and gave up,
but Rose said, “Stay put, honey.” Ten minutes later, words began to flow.

“This time is for something to you that may
not be easily understood but so much of what you are open to now has shown that
this is possible so that you can find where the place is and the things that
you are to do will be possible in your mind because they have already happened
in the universe the planes of existence and crossing times play a role in each
other but this should not stop the efforts of where you are heading it is
sometime to see any place to feel what must be in this now a chance has come to
grow all the remaining but obstacles may be too many depending on the number
that find the openings and see the shows . . . ”

Three pages like that before I made it
stop.

“It’ll get easier to understand what
they’re saying. Read it a few times and it may become clear,” Rose said, after
reading it. “But you get a sense they know what’s going on and have a lot to
say about it.”

“I should hope so.” The feeling of a spirit
guide communicating with me through my mind was not new, but seeing it so
clearly on the screen was very exciting.

Tanya, deciding it wasn’t the best time to
start her diet, brought pizza for dinner. We discussed every theory we could
think of on where they were holding Dustin and what we could do to find him.
The answer was always Spencer; we needed his help. Rose had several clients the
next day so Tanya offered to drive me to meet him. “I love the beach,” she
said, taking a sip of her sugar-free soda as she scarfed down the last slice.

After dinner, I called Mom and promised her
answers tomorrow. She was still going around in circles with the lawyers. “Josh
suggested we talk to one of the Ashland cops who frequents the Station. It
would all be off the record, but we could get some advice.”

“No way!”

“I told him you’d say that. He wants to
come up to Merlin to talk to you about it.”

“We’re dealing with a rogue element in
our
government. There’s nothing normal about this situation, and we can’t
address it in normal ways. If Josh wants to come up here for a history lesson,
fine. Otherwise, tell him to stay in Ashland and don’t talk to anyone.”

“Nate, I’m not going to tell him that.”

“Well, think of something to stop him, or
we’ll all end up arrested.”

Kyle reported that both he and Linh had
seen a van watching their house. Linh saw it at the Station, too, and wondered
if they were looking for me or if they knew I was out of Ashland and were just
keeping friends and family under surveillance. Amber had also seen it driving
past her driveway in the morning, then again at school around lunchtime. They
were all nervous.

It was hard for me to sleep that night.
Thoughts of Dustin swirled in my mind--where was he? Maybe trying to get to us
on the astral? What was Agent Sanford Fitts doing right now?  Would he find me?
I thrashed in the sheets until morning, waking out of an Outview; my dad and I
were friends in the same Mayan lifetime that I had died by a conquistador
sword, falling into the sacred pool. But this time, we were in the seaside town
of Tulum, plotting with seven others how to get the artifact safely to the only
person who could save our people. It ended abruptly, and although I knew
they/we had failed to protect the artifact or preserve the Mayan civilization,
I was oddly left with a sense of optimism.

36

Friday, September 26

Rose made her famous bacon, eggs, and
pancakes. “Glad I decided to postpone my diet.” Tanya laughed. Rose told us she
had already checked on Dustin on the astral, he was still not looking well.
She’d had no luck communicating with him yet.

“You tell Spencer Copeland that I said he
needs to find Montgomery’s first son,” Rose ordered me.

“I’ve got a good feeling that Nate’s going
to find his brother,” Tanya said.

She handed me three Spanish books “Here’re
the books you asked for. All those years toiling in high school Spanish and all
I can remember is how to count uno, dos, tres, cuatro. Maybe you’ll do better.”

Linh called just before we were going to
lose cell coverage, driving along the Smith River. “The van was out there again
this morning. I’m really worried about all of us.”

“I’m on my way to see Spencer right now; by
the end of the day we’ll have a plan to rescue Dustin and keep everyone safe. Just
be very careful. Don’t go anywhere alone. They obviously don’t want any
publicity, and it doesn’t seem like they’re willing to just snatch any of us in
the light of day.”

“I had a dream last night--” Linh began
before we lost the signal. Tanya offered to turn around so we could finish the
call, but we had to get to Spencer.

I meditated until we got to the coast, then
directed Tanya to the guardrail.

Entering the forest that separated the road
from the beach was like going home. The trees greeted me, my name in the
breeze. I traversed the steep trail with memories of that night mixed with the
sights before me. The woods made me feel strong. Spencer was right; nature was
the power place. These trees were extra special. This was the place of my
“vision quest.” It would always be sacred.

Spencer was waiting in the same spot where
we first saw him, as if he was part of that rock, part of this beach.

“What do you see out there?” I asked,
interrupting his view.

“The problems of humanity.”

“In that beautiful ocean?” I asked. Then I
saw his eyes, troubled, sorrowful.

“I’m torn, Nate. To show you the things you
need to know is to steal your childhood and burden you with more than a person
should carry.”

“My childhood ended the day my dad died.”

He stared into my eyes. “They got Dustin.”

“I knew you’d know.” I tried to read him, but
it was impossible. “Right now, all I care about is getting Dustin back. Can you
find him?”

“I can help
you
find him. They’re
using Dustin as bait. They want you to come for him.”