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Mainstream
About 93,000 Words


CONTENTS

PART ONE
PROLOGUE: 13,000,000,000 B.C.
1. FATE CHOOSES AN EMISSARY
2. LOOKING FOR MS. GOODBAR
3. NOT YET AWARE
4. THE MARGOT KIDDER DREAM

PART TWO
5. DEATH ROW’S HEIR
6. IT MUST BE FATE
7. CALLING DAVID MALCOM
8. THE DREAM GAME

PART THREE
9. THE DAMNED
10. THE BLACK HOLE
11. OUT OF CONTROL
12. THE BAD SEED
13. THE GREAT PRACTITIONER
14. THE MAZE OF LIFE
15. BAD TIMING
16. THE INHERITANCE

PART FOUR
17. PHOENIX CALLS
18. THE ILLUSION
19. LOVE CHOOSES
20. MURDER BY THE STATE
21. THE BRIDGE TO SAN QUENTIN

PART FIVE
22. THE DOMINO DREAM
23. THE DEPTHS OF DETERMINISM
24. A NEW PARADIGM
25. THE PREDISPOSED FOUNDATION
26. THE LAST APPEAL
27. THE GHOSTS OF DEATH ROW
28. THE LAST HOPE PART ONE

MEN ARE LIKE TREES: EACH ONE MUST PUT FORTH THE LEAF THAT IS CREATED IN HIM . . . HENRY WARD BEECHER, Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit (1887)


PROLOGUE: 13,000,000,000 B.C.

There was no light, and no wind to blow and swirl, nor were there any mortal beings, but in a state of tremendously high temperature and density, the greatest mind ever to exist visualized everlasting principles.

Then an explosion beyond all explosions occurred. Moving in all directions this big bang caused something to rapidly materialize, an entity that billions of years afterward would be called “the universe”. As infinitely envisioned, the gravitational interaction of all matter began in less than a nanosecond. Energies required to crush particles came forth in a time equivalent to the Planck length divided by the speed of light. The ascendancy of matter over antimatter occurred, and elementary particles were established.

There would be no human beings to discover quasars, brown dwarfs, and quantum black holes until an epoch far in the future. Many eras, ages, and periods would pass before a small planet called Earth would form from the dust of the cosmic explosion, and then orbit around a minor star in the Milky Way.

Yet, by a gradual process, evolution would bring to this budding planet a staggering variety of species. Animals and plants numbering in the millions would evolve, and every form, type, and manner of life would develop.














The first scientific principle that man would experience—one of few known in everyday life—would be hearing a loud noise and wondering what caused it. After that first time, everyone in the world would always recognize such an occurrence as an example of cause and effect.

The big bang began the endless chain of cause and effect. However, nothing was left to chance, for planted in that creative explosion were the seeds of all the events that would ever occur. Beginning at creation the unbroken thread of causes was the work of an ageless mind, and man cannot alter this fascinating causal string. Every effect has a cause, and every cause is an effect of a previous cause.

There has never been a human action in the history of the universe. God initiated the big bang, and all events thereafter were reactions, divine effects of of divine causes.
Thus, the scientific community recognized that first cause was responsible for everything.

* * * *

January 1973 A.D.
David Malcom’s breakup with his wife had been painful, and he would’ve been astonished to know that their divorce would forever be a link in evolution’s chain of causes, and that the effect thereof would be a valiant struggle to save an innocent man from the gas chamber.


1. FATE CHOOSES AN EMISSARY

June 1973.
On Sunday afternoon David stepped into his new apartment in Westland, a suburb of Detroit. He left the door open, and looked at a white business envelope lying on the green carpet. A copy of the divorce decree from Cathy’s attorney, it had fallen off the glass-topped coffee table.

That piece of paper ended fifteen years of marriage, he thought. No, the paper didn’t do it.

Growth in conflicting paths had caused their parting, but David and Cathy still had feelings for each other, and he hadn’t gotten over the numbing heartache. He struggled daily to survive the emotional fallout from losing Cathy, a lovely woman inside and out.

Steve came in carrying a small stereo. “Where do you want this, Dad?” He would be fourteen in August.

David glanced at the wall unit. “Set it on the middle shelf, Son.”

Steve set the stereo on the shelf, and began hooking up two black, tall speakers.

“Can I turn it on, Dad?”

David hesitated. “Yeah, but don’t play it too loud.” Steve started searching FM stations.

“Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head . . .”

Originally from Flint, David and his family had lived in Detroit because of his job at Benchmark Steel Tube, but one year ago David and Cathy had split up. Cathy had taken Steve and Robby and moved back to Flint, seventy miles north.

After Cathy left, David rented an apartment in Flint to be near his sons, but he had tired of the long commute to work.

Today, Steve and Robby helped him move back to Detroit. Benchmark was on the north side of Plymouth Road, west of Telegraph Road, and David wouldn’t have far to drive to the office.

David had been a family man. Then he had suddenly found himself in a silent new world, enclosed by four bleak walls, hearing nothing but the accusation of his anguished thoughts. His self–esteem had suffered a severe onslaught and the strength of his heart had been tested. This had caused his first bout with chronic depression since David, Jr.

“There’s Pepsi in the fridge, Steve,” David said.

Because of his desk and files, David had leased a two-bedroom apartment. He took a box into his bedroom, and then he began emptying his briefcase. When he took out a five-by-seven picture of Cathy, a lump filled his throat. He started to stand her picture on the dresser, but he hesitated, and stood there deciding. He swallowed the lump, went over to the closet, and placed the picture face down on the shelf.

David went back into the living room. Robby came in with a box and set it in a corner. He picked up the envelope. “Dad, is this important?” He looked at David. “It was on the floor.”

David smiled at Robby. “Yeah, it is important, Son. Put it on the coffee table.” He patted Robby on the shoulder. “Thanks.” Robby turned twelve three months ago.

Maybe our divorce was just fate, David thought. Maybe, but I don’t believe in that. No, we were too different, but I didn’t realize that until everything fell apart. Cathy is an outgoing person, and I’m too reticent. Then too, there were some heated arguments about not socializing enough.

“Was that the last box?” David asked Robby.

Robby smiled with relief. “Yeah, that’s it, Dad.”

“There’s Pepsi in the fridge,” David shut the door.

Robby went into the kitchen and came back with his soda. He sat down on the black leather sofa with Steve.

“Go Away Little Girl . . .”

“Can’t you get a better station?” Robby asked Steve. He took a swig of his Pepsi.

Steve said, “I don’t wanta listen to The Jackson Five all the time, Robby.”

“Well, I don’t wanta listen to Donny Osmond either. There must be something . . .”

“Don’t argue about it,” David said. “Robby, you can switch to something else for a while.” Robby got up and switched stations.

In addition to the pain of his lingering love for Cathy, it cut David deeply that he would no longer be around for his sons on a daily basis. They needed a father’s influence at their age, but their mother had gotten custody. David was so distressed during the divorce proceedings that he hadn’t considered custody. He wouldn’t have gotten the boys anyway. Cathy was a good mother.

“The First Time . . . Ever I Saw . . . Your Face”

David winced, looked at the stereo, and said, “Could we turn it off for now, you guys?”

Steve started to protest, but he got up and turned off the stereo.

David sighed, and took another box into his bedroom. He came back and put on a smile for Steve and Robby.

“I’m really glad you guys helped me move.” He gave them each a ten-dollar bill.

Their smiles christened the apartment.

* * * *

That evening David returned from taking the boys back to Flint. Standing in the living room, he lit a cigarette. He sat on the sofa, turned on the television, and heard a journalist say, “According to The Washington Post, John Dean discussed the Watergate cover-up with Nixon about thirty-five times.” David turned off the television.

A picture of his three sons sat on the end table.

David, Jr., had come into the world with tuberous sclerosis, a genetic condition that caused tumors to grow on his vital organs. The insidious disease also caused seizures. It had disabled Davey physically, mentally, and emotionally. As his self-destructive behavior increased, David and Cathy had been forced to put Davey in an institution.

David’s mind wandered to fate. Going over to the coffee table he picked up a book, Metaphysics. Then he thought, What was it that Richard Taylor said?

He flipped through the pages and stopped at chapter six, reading a sentence. “Determinism, it will be recalled, is the theory that all events are rendered unavoidable by their causes.” He read another description. “Fatalism is the belief that whatever happens is unavoidable.” He kept reading, looking for something.

No examples. Why didn’t Taylor give some examples? I don’t see one illustration. Couldn’t he have taken something out of history? David tried to think of an event that clearly demonstrated cause and effect in history, and also revealed that the individual was not free to make any other choice.

He began searching through his books and files. Then he found an account of a phone call to Franklin D. Roosevelt from Harold Stark, The Secretary of the Navy.
* * * *
December 7, 1941, about 2:00 p.m.

It was Sunday, but President Roosevelt was in the Oval Office with his aide, Harry Hopkins.

The phone rang.

“Mister President, the Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor,” Stark said.

Roosevelt’s face turned grim. “General Tojo, he’s joined Hitler’s mission for world conquest. Do you have a report on the casualties yet?” The attack was not unexpected, but no one knew where it would happen.

“No, sir. There are only skimpy reports at this time, but it will be bad.”

“I’m going to set up a briefing as soon as possible,” Roosevelt said, “but my decision is already clear.”

“What are you going to do, sir?”

“Well, it’s unavoidable, Harold. I don’t have a choice. The Japanese have left me no alternative.”

“I know,” the Secretary said.

“Because of Pearl Harbor,” Roosevelt said, “I must ask congress for a declaration of war.”
* * * *
This is a good example of cause and effect in human affairs, David thought. The bombing of Pearl Harbor was the cause, and the effect was Roosevelt declaring war. And it doesn’t look like he could do anything other than what he did. It seems that fate decided for him, and if so, there wasn’t any free will here. And since cause and effect is an endless chain from the time of the big bang, does that mean that everything happens like this? Maybe, but I don’t know.

David had left the kitchen light on. He stepped around the shadowy boxes on the living room floor and went into the bathroom. After turning on the light, he took off his shirt and dropped it in a small wicker clothes hamper. He didn’t care for undershirts.

He mused about Davey, and some dreadful Christmas Eves visiting him at the children’s hospital. Davey was the only child there on one visit. The interns had put him in a straitjacket, and locked him in a padded cell. Tired from trying to hurt himself, he had fallen into a fitful slumber. Stirring out of his sleep, he dazedly looked up at David and Cathy, and tried to move his arms. “Daddy,” he said, “I want to go home, with you and Mommy.”

David and Cathy wept, then David knelt beside Davey and held him close for over an hour. Leaving him that day was unbearable.

All men are created equal? David had thought. No, that’s a damn myth.

As he looked in the mirror, he fingered the gold Aquarian pendant that hung from his neck. He was a reserved, sensitive man, but he made a striking appearance. At five-foot-ten and 155 pounds, he looked slim. His face was tanned, and sculpted with high cheekbones that enhanced a distinctive look. Below arching eyebrows, his blue eyes were usually intense, but not now. A male model would envy his dark luxuriant hair. It hung over his forehead, touched his collar in the back, and partly covered his ears. David looked younger than his age, but tonight he felt older than forty-two.

He flushed his cigarette down the toilet, and then brushed his teeth. His dinner had been a lukewarm cheeseburger during the drive back.

My first night here, he thought, and I’m only five miles from work. I can stay up late. I can get up later, and I can . . .

Sure, I can, but I’d trade all of that and the whole damned world for Cathy. Funny, you don’t know how much you really care until you lose the woman you love, but then it’s too late. I’ve got to put her out of my mind. It’s final and that’s that.

Generally up until midnight, David went to bed. He wanted to stop thinking.

Sunday night had fallen hard.

* * * *

Tuesday night, April 1974.

Sitting on the sofa, David picked up The Detroit News and flipped through the front section, then he looked at the sports section. Hank Aaron had hit his 715th home run in Atlanta, breaking Babe Ruth's record, a record that had stood since 1935. David put the paper on the coffee table.

Going over to the end table, he turned on the yellow globe at the bottom of the lamp. It created a dim light, which was what he needed whenever he meditated.

In the kitchen he poured a shot of bourbon, on the rocks, then he returned to the sofa. A television news report continued the talk of impeaching President Nixon, but the President seemed to be standing firm.

David turned off the television and leaned back, sipping his drink. In the year since he moved back to Detroit, his social life had been a disaster. His sex life was worse. In spite of his good looks, he was not a lady’s man. As a young boy, he had been too shy to talk to a pretty girl.

When he was ten he had met Jim at Oak Street School. Jim was a popular school kid. Jim’s dad was the Malcoms’ landlord. The Malcoms had lived in a small house behind Jim’s large house. Jim was attracted to a twelve-year-old girl named Shirley who lived next door to the school. David liked her too, but he hadn’t told Jim.

One time Jim said, “David, would you ride my bike to Shirley’s house and give this note to her?”

Shirley asked David, “Why do you bring a note from Jim and not from you, David?” David’s tongue hadn’t found words to answer, and he rode away on Jim’s bike.

This shyness never fully went away, and later it became a quiet reserve. Now, David did not approach people easily. A would-be friend would have to approach him in the beginning. In unfamiliar surroundings, it would be a lengthy time before David made new friends.

As a result, he often drove to Flint for the weekend and stayed with his widowed mother. And driving through the dark streets of his hometown late on Saturday night, he would wonder where Cathy was.

He went over to the picture window and gazed at the beige apartment buildings. Neatly clipped green lawns lazily stretched throughout the darkened complex. Tall lampposts stood watch—guiding sentinels—their luminous globes dotting the night like miniature full moons.

Far across the way he saw a man and a woman strolling on the meandering sidewalk while holding hands. Watching them grow smaller, he wondered what the future held for them. Then their dim figures merged into one. Given his barren love life, a romantic scene made him feel lonelier. A tear trickled down his face as he thought of never holding Cathy’s hand again.

He would give anything to go back five years and see as clearly as he did now. Nineteen sixty-nine. Steve was ten, Robby was eight, and Davey. Oh, God! Steve was in little league baseball, but I didn’t spend enough time with him. And Robby, I can’t remember sitting him on my knee and gently talking to him. Jesus, I can’t live with these memories tearing my heart out. I had so much back then, a wonderful woman and wonderful sons, and I let it all slip away.

He sipped his drink.

David was too distant to make the acquaintance of a lovely woman without a fortunate circumstance. Public speaking was an outlet for expression, a way to try to overcome his reticence. He had met Cathy at a fund-raiser, but only because he had been up front as the speaker and she later spoke to him at the refreshments table.
* * * *
1957.
David poured a cup of coffee after the speech, and Cathy came over. He had seen her in the audience when he was speaking and had admired her pale blonde hair.

She poured her coffee, and looked at David. “Hi, I’m Cathy.” When she stood before him, he saw that there was much more to her physical beauty. “I enjoyed your speech.” She was about five-foot-seven and pleasingly slender.

David thought, Hi, I’m lucky. But he said, “Thanks, Cathy, nice to meet you.” It was difficult to resist staring at her sensuous mouth, which he immediately wanted to taste.

“You have a gift for making your points clear,” Cathy said. Her gorgeous green eyes glistened with anticipation, reflecting a love of life.

“Thanks again, Cathy, but if you can point out any goofs, feel free to do so.” He sensed an inner beauty of kindness that matched her attractiveness.

“Well, I didn’t notice any.” She smiled. “You were good.” She had on a green velvet dress and she looked very good, but it was her eyes that held David’s attention.

Later, she said, “Would you like to meet for coffee sometime, David?”

They fell in love soon after, and she became the mother of his children.
* * * *
A few months before David returned to Detroit, the boys told their mother of his plans to move.

Cathy had said, “Tell your dad maybe we should talk before he moves.”

David had counted on Steve and Robby telling her, thinking that it might cause some positive reaction.

I remember how good I felt about that, hoping Cathy might stop the divorce. But I still can’t understand why we never had that talk.

That caused David to think about fate again. He wondered how a hope so strongly desired could be so easily overlooked, unless some unknown force worked against it.

No, I don’t believe that. But I read somewhere that just as there is a history of the past, so there is a history of the future. I don’t know, but wouldn’t that indicate that the future was already decided?

He lit a cigarette and turned away from the window. Sitting down on the sofa, he tried to relax, but he wasn’t interested in television. That would interfere with his inquisitive mind, which was forever searching for answers in the stillness of the nighttime.

Too much a metaphysician to concentrate on money, he would never go anywhere in the business world. And I guess I’ll always be a loner. Cathy’s doubts about us probably grew stronger because of my ambitions about writing, and the solitude it calls for.
* * * *
1971, Friday night, 7:45 p.m.

David was in the den and the door was closed. He spent a lot of time in there, reading books and trying his hand at writing.

Cathy opened the door. “Honey, are you going to watch TV with me and the boys? I made some cookies.”

David looked up from his desk. “That sounds nice, Cathy, but I’ve got something I need to finish here.”

“Well, can’t it wait, David? You’re in here all the time.”

“If I don’t finish it now, I might not get it right later.”

Cathy was disappointed and it showed. “I wish you would divide your time a little better with me and the boys.”

“I’m sorry, Honey. I’ll try to be done in about a half hour.”

Cathy bit her lip, but said nothing, then she left.

He got up and shut the door.
* * * *
David went to the window again, as though some soothing magic reigned there, a mysterious power that would make everything right if only he looked through the enchanting pane long enough. Drawing on his cigarette, he was momentarily mesmerized by the reflection of the red ash. Enjoying the comforting silence at day’s end, he began to feel a little better. That healing retreat usually brought a temporary purge of his hidden fears.

He remembered how his sons liked his new apartment, and how they enjoyed the pool last summer. The boys are seventy miles north, he thought, and there’s sadness about that. If I lived in Flint, whether I saw them often or not, there would be the comfort of being just a few minutes away. But here in Detroit they seem so far away.

A painful memory of Davey flashed through his mind. He had seen him lying in the hospital bed with his hands tied down. Davey had an IV in each arm. Too sick to speak, his eyes had pleaded with David. Take me home, Daddy.

During those heart-storming days, David had never felt more helpless.

Recalling an inspirational passage, he went over to the coffee table and butted his cigarette. He picked up a book, The Magic in Your Mind. Turning through the pages, he found the highlighted verses.

“We obey our own destiny best when we listen to our heart. No amount of conscious reasoning can prevail against this intuition, and only by following its dictates can we discover our true selves.”

He put the book down. Destiny, is there really such a thing? And if fate does rule, what does that do to free will?

All at once, memories flooded his mind. . . . ‘C’mon, Dad, throw us the ball!’ Robby yelled. A wave of nostalgia saturated David’s soul. . . . ‘Look at them, David,’ Cathy said, ‘they’re our boys, part of you and part of me, and they’re beautiful.’

He again thought of Davey, remembering one agonizing visit when Davey said, “I just want to be good, Dad, and I want to”—Davey had looked at the straps on his wrists—“I want to hug you.”

David finished his drink and set the glass on the coffee table. Remembering the times that he had broken down, he tried to push the distressing scenes out of his mind. He walked to the window once more, gripped by the night. Arms folded across his chest, he gazed into the unknown.

Where is my heart? Isn’t it in Flint with Steve and Robby? God, how I miss those guys, and the family life I had. I had good reason to move here, but my heart is still in Flint, no matter how far the drive to work. But why should I move back?

The riveting words came alive—"No amount of conscious reasoning can prevail against this intuition.” Shivering from a powerful swell of melancholy, David made his decision.

I know it’s not logical, but I’m going to obey my heart. I’m moving back to Flint as soon as I can. Contemplating the move began to take over his mind, and he felt momentary relief as he started planning.

He flinched as the ring of the telephone jarred him back to reality.

Wonder who that is? At the end table, he picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Dad. I know it’s late, but Mom said I could call you. Did I wake you?”

“No, it’s not late, Steve.” It’s so good to hear his voice, David thought. He pictured Steve’s slender face and blue eyes, his generous smile and long brown hair. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, Dad, nothin’s wrong,” Steve replied. He was slim and growing taller every day. “Uh, Dad, Robby and me have been talkin’, I mean serious. Robby’s on the extension.”

“Hi, Dad,” Robby said, “I love you.” Robby was slender and a little shorter than Steve, but he had the same brown hair and blue eyes.

“I love you too, Robby, very much.” David could see Robby, with a shy smile like his own.

“Mom’s getting married, Dad,” Steve said, “and we, uh, we thought that if you . . .” Steve hesitated. “You knew about Mom, didn’t you, Dad?”

David swallowed hard. “No, I didn’t, Steve, but tell her . . .” Stand up man, he scolded himself. You brought it on yourself. He glanced out the window, and sat down at the dinette. His sons would never know the awful loss he felt in his leaden heart.

Now I know Cathy’s destiny, even if I don’t know my own. “Tell her I wish her the best,” he said.

He recalled Davey’s patient acceptance, while tuberous sclerosis mercilessly wrecked his body and mind. David and Cathy had drawn strength from Davey’s loving attitude. Now, David tried to do that all on his own.

“Well, Mom will be livin’ on the other side of town,” Steve said, “and Robby and me don’t wanta leave our friends in Carman School District.” He paused. “Uh, we thought that . . . that if you’d come back to Flint . . .”

“And live in the Carman district,” Robby cut in.

“We’d live with you,” Steve finished. The boys anxiously waited.

David was pleasantly surprised. “Well I . . . that sounds very . . .”

“Mom don’t like the idea and she cried,” Steve said, “but . . .”

“And so did we,” Robby said.

“But Mom said she understood,” Steve continued, “and she said she’d leave it up to us.”

This is great, David thankfully thought. Tears formed in his eyes. “Just a minute, guys”—his voice cracked—“hang on.” Putting the phone down, he reached for a Kleenex. Wiping his eyes, he fleetingly thought about fate. I’ve got to get deeper into that. I’ve got to study it more.

He remembered when Davey was nine, and he had improved enough to move into a group home. Davey looked forward to Sundays because David brought him home for dinner. Davey had enjoyed his newfound freedom on Sunday, and he spent much time with Steve and Robby. On more than one visit, he had said, “I love my family.” He found great pleasure in watching a football game, and he loved to sit on the sofa and laugh with his younger brothers. It had been sheer joy to David and Cathy to hear Davey laugh. They tried to believe that this change would last, and that someday Davey would live at home again.

David picked up the phone. “Okay, I’m back.” He was happy about the boys call. “Yeah, I think it’s a great idea, and it really makes me feel good. It’s a done deal for sure.”

Steve and Robby exploded with enthusiastic shouts. David could see Steve giving Robby a high sign.

“Great, Dad,” Robby said.

“That’s cool, Dad,” Steve said. “When can we do it?”

Robby said, “Yeah, Dad?”

“Well, my lease is up this month,” David replied, “and you guys have a couple more weeks of school. The timing couldn’t be better, so we’ll do it right after school’s out.”

“Great,” Robby said. He paused. “And, Dad, can you take us to the cemetery to see Davey’s grave this weekend?”

The tumors inside Davey’s body had multiplied. David remembered the last day of Davey’s life, when he told the doctor—“I’m having a good day.” But during a violent and painful seizure, he died in David’s arms when he was only eleven.

“Yes, we’ll do that for sure, Robby, on Sunday.”

After David hung up, he marveled at the coincidence of the boys’ call, right after he made a decision to return to Flint. He had experience in psychic happenings and prophetic dreams, and he kept a dream diary.

Almost eleven years ago, David dreamed not of John F. Kennedy’s murder but of Lyndon Johnson’s rise to the presidency. The Johnson dream was five days before President Kennedy’s assassination, and it was in color.

That early Monday morning, November 18, 1963, David stirred in his sleep and mumbled, “Where am I?”
A voice said, “Dallas!”
Thousands of animated people lined both sides of the street, expectantly waiting.
It’s a parade, David thought.
No, I think it’s a motorcade.
Then a name appeared in huge, blood red letters, exalting itself high above the entire scene.
JOHNSON!

In the dream, David felt that this name was the most important name in the world, but he hadn’t understood the nocturnal vision until President Kennedy was assassinated.

* * * *

As David continued to ponder the boys’ call, he was unaware that the solitary journey he was destined to undertake had now begun.


2. LOOKING FOR MS. GOODBAR

May 1974, Sunday.

Three weeks before Cathy was to get married, David went by to see the boys about the move.

Cathy opened the door, and smiled. “Hi, David.” Then she let him in.

She had on white shorts and a red halter, and she seemed friendlier than usual.

David glanced at her full lips, and then asked, “Are the boys here?” He looked toward the hallway.

“No, they’re visiting their friends,” she said. “Did you call them yesterday?”

“I thought they’d be here, but I can come back in a couple of hours.”

They briefly talked about the boys moving in with David. Cathy was hurt, but she agreed to the move.

She smiled again, and toyed with her hair. “I just made coffee, if you want some.” Her eyes glistened.

Her friendly attitude surprised David, but he quickly recovered. “Sure, that sounds good.”

He headed for the coffee pot and she followed, but he wasn’t interested in coffee. He turned and took her in his arms, and when she didn’t resist, he kissed her long and hard.

Then, without any words, she took his hand and led him into her bedroom.

Once there, he looked at her and frowned. “What’s this about, Cathy?”

She put her hands on his shoulders. “Do you need an explanation, David?”

“It’s not that, Cathy. I just can’t figure you out.”

“You’re always analyzing things,” she said. She untied her halter and let it drop to the floor.

He didn’t respond, so she began unbuttoning his shirt. After that, she slipped off her shorts, and he saw that she wasn’t wearing panties. She unzipped his jeans.

She needed one last hour with him, and he decided to give her what she wanted. Massaging between her legs, he got her thoroughly wet, then he reclined on the bed and let her get on top. After her first orgasm, he rolled her over, and continued to renew her remembrance of the fiery nights of yesteryear.

It had been over two years since they made love. When David left, he was confused and beginning to hurt.

She’s getting married in less than a month, and yet she needed this? Something to remember, I guess—and for me too. Driving away, he recalled that Cathy cried at the signing of the divorce papers.

I guess she really meant it when she told me she was going to go by reason, and not by her heart.

Today’s memory of making love with Cathy would not be a good one for David. It would only increase his heartache, and it would make him wonder how she could forsake the fire that once fused them together, and made them passionate lovers.

I don’t know why, but fate keeps popping into my mind. I wonder if Cathy and I were not only destined to meet, but also, destined to part.

* * * *

June.

David searched for a place in Flint and found a two-bedroom apartment in River Valley Apartments. Off Beecher Road, it was four blocks back from the busy thoroughfare. The lane leading from River Valley snaked up a grassy knoll to Beecher Road. Utley Junior High was two miles away for Robby, and Carman High almost the same for Steve.

They shared the second bedroom, and the room was large enough with bunk beds. They were happy, and excited about the large blue pool behind the clubhouse. David set a curfew for them, weeknights and weekends. He put an extension phone in their bedroom and made a list of their household chores.

That reminded him of how Davey had wished that he knew how to do chores. He remembered the first time Davey cried because he wasn’t able to help Steve and Robby. “I’m the ‘big brother’,” he had said, “and I can’t help my little brothers.”

At forty-three, David needed his sons as much as they needed him. He bought a new compact car to economize his drive to work in Detroit. It would be a 140-mile round trip five days a week, but mostly on the expressway. He was happy for now, and the return of a family life had rejuvenated him—but his life would never again be ordinary.

* * * *

September.

David awoke from a dream and rolled over to the side of the bed. He looked at his digital alarm clock. The red numbers peered back at him, 3:01 a.m. He groped for the lamp on the nightstand, and blinked at the sudden light. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. God, do I want to do this?

He picked up his dream diary from the nightstand and scribbled down the dream. He also noted how he felt when he awoke, good, bad, or nothing.

Not much to the dream; only an odd question.

TO WHAT DEGREE? 3:01 a.m., Thursday, September 12, 1974
To what degree is a man responsible for his actions?

David tried to recall more of the short dream, but he didn’t realize the magnitude of the question, so powerful that it stood alone.

Well, this couldn’t be prophetic. There’s nothing predicted. He would go over the question that night after work. He put down the diary and fell asleep.

* * * *

Friday night, November.

The boys were staying with their mother for the weekend. David sat on the sofa relaxing in the quietness.

Funny, he thought, I just realized that Cathy never needed quiet moments. He glanced at his watch. I wish I could make myself go out and improve my social life, but I don’t know if I feel like it tonight. Besides, I rarely see a woman who attracts me like Cathy does.

As he wondered what else he never knew about her, he decided that he should get out of the apartment and go somewhere.

* * * *

While waiting in line in the Embers’ lobby for ten minutes, David heard the cocktail lounge rocking with dance music. He had on black dress jeans and a blue shirt, open at the collar to display his gold Aquarian pendant. He wore a light gray, medium-length leather coat, unbuttoned. He had a gold ring with an amethyst birthstone on his ring finger. David sometimes felt out of place in the bar scene. He didn’t like single life, but he had accepted it.

Once he got inside, he saw scores of people claiming every square foot of the classy lounge.

“I Can See Clearly Now -- The Rain is Gone”

The loud music made it hard to hear anything else, and it seemed impossible to move. David shouldered his way into the main aisle, which separated the bar from the tables. He merged with the singles, who were bumping into each other while looking for someone else. As he slowly walked on the plush carpet, some of the people sitting at the bar took notice of him. He often received compliments on his “beautiful” hair.

It was too difficult to get a seat at the bar, but David would rather stand anyway. It wasn’t easy for him to approach an attractive woman, but he still liked to walk around. When he first became single he had gone out night after night, trying to mend his broken heart. He learned to cope with his new life eventually, and settled into a stable routine. He felt better now that the boys lived with him.

The Embers was not overly dark like some bars, and it had sufficient light to scout around. There was an age range from about twenty-five to sixty-five. Passing by the large dance floor, David gradually moved deeper into the spacious room. Cathy had begged him to learn to dance, but he hadn’t given it much thought. Now, as a single man, necessity urged him to become a good dancer.

David and Cathy had seldom gone out to the bars. They had never been in a rock bar and rarely gone to a country bar. As he thought of that, he realized that she liked partying but he didn’t. Since he had become single, he avoided country bars. The whining music depressed him, and he had enough problems with depression. Rock music was upbeat, and it never made him feel blue.

“JOY --- To The World! JOY --- To The World!”

A cute young woman made her way through an open spot in the crowded aisle before it closed.

“Hey, Baby,” a chubby young man said to her. “I just gotta be the guy you’re lookin’ for.”

David watched with amusement as the guy stood in her way, hands out with palms up, lustfully grinning at the prey of his roving eyes. She slinkily brushed by, totally ignoring him.

Undaunted, he poked his buddy and said, “She likes me.” As they watched her hurry on, he said, “Do you smell cunt hair burning, man?” They snickered like two kids raiding an Oreo cookie jar. After that, they continued on their never-ending search.

David chuckled and moved on, heading to the rear to complete his first survey. While passing the accessory bar, someone slapped his arm. He turned and saw Jack Rankin, smiling broadly and leaning against the bar. He had a bottle of Bud in hand.

“David, my man,” he said, “as usual, you do look sharp.” A stocky guy about five-ten, he was David’s height but bigger, ruggedly appealing and in his late thirties. Jack’s bushy mustache enhanced a pleasant smile. He had brown eyes, and curly brown hair set over a broad forehead.

David smiled and said, “How you doin’, Jack?”

“Doin’ good, David.”

They had become single at the same time and had met at the Embers. Now they were good friends. Unlike David, Jack had accepted his divorce with a carefree attitude. He had made many single friends, mostly female.

Lighting a cigarette, David stepped closer to Jack so people could slide by. He tried to catch the barmaid’s eye. In her scanty black-lace outfit, she had already caught his eye.

“Yeah, David, you’re lookin’ cool.” Jack took a swig of his beer and carefully watched where the leggy redhead was going.

David’s teenage shyness was now cloaked in a reserve that came off as “cool.” He looked self-assured, confident and in control, even while fighting depression.

Cool, he thought, if that mistaken tag didn’t hurt so much it would be funny. There are times when I’m so damned depressed I don’t think I’m going to make it, but nobody knows but me.

“And you could make out more, David,” Jack said, “but you hang back.” He glanced at the site where the redhead had vanished. “You gotta be more aggressive, man.”

David uneasily chuckled and drew on his cigarette, looking around the bar. Given his detachment, it would be difficult for him to meet someone new.

“Let ‘em see that pussy look in your eye,” Jack said. A couple of his friends walked by and waved.

David knew that Jack was right. Because of his appearance, no one considered David an introvert, but it was hard for him to make a romantic beginning. He regretted his youthful shyness, yet his inability to take advantage of a romantic situation had in some measure continued into adult life. Still, when a woman attracted him, he sometimes overcame his restrained manner. The initial contact usually held him back, but a lucky situation would prevail over that. And once a friendly atmosphere developed, he felt free to converse.

The barmaid glanced David’s way. “A perfect manhattan,” he yelled. He looked at Jack. “Want anything, Jack?”

Jack held out his half-full beer bottle. “I’m okay, David.”

I’m glad he doesn’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman in my bed, David thought. In the two and a half years since David became single, he’d only had one relationship, and it hadn’t been with a woman that he was strongly attracted to. On account of his sexual needs, he dated her for a couple of months. The rest of his dating had been hit and miss, waiting for a woman to fall into his lap.

The barmaid brought David’s drink, and he took a sip. A few minutes later he said, “I’m gonna look around, Jack. See you later?”

“Sure thing. If we don’t make out, how about pizza at Trevi’s?”

“If we don’t make, out,” David replied, “sure, right.” He patted Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll be there by myself.” He moved into the clogged aisle. “Later, Jack.”

Jack’s always happy-go-lucky. I wish I could be like that. The only time I’ve ever seen him real serious was when he told me that a car killed his dog when he was a kid.

On the bandstand the lead singer came up to the mike and softly said, “It’s belly rubbin’ time.” The lights dimmed. Several couples left their tables and hurried toward the dance floor.

David approached the edge of the floor and watched the shadowy people. The dancers drew closer to each other, and some hoped to find love, at least for the night.

“How Can You Mend . . . A Broken Heart”

“Hey, David!” someone yelled, from the other side of the dance floor.

David had barely heard the call over the sound of the band, but now he saw a hand waving. The bobbing heads of the dancers cut off his view.

“Over here, David!”

Looking for a way to get over there, David wondered who it was. To avoid the choked aisle, he made his way around the border of the dance floor. He held his glass high, and was careful not to burn the swaying dancers with his cigarette. After he got to the other side and saw Eddy standing by a table, he was disappointed. But when he got to the table, he changed his mind.

“How’s it going, Eddy,” David said. He discreetly checked out the two women sitting at the table, especially the brunette with shoulder-length hair. She’s looking fine.

Eddy sat down. A tall, slim guy and near forty, he had curly permed hair. He and David ordinarily just greeted each other and passed on.

“Girls,” Eddy said, “this is David, a . . .a . . .”

“Malcom,” David said.

The brunette was about thirty, and she had smooth unblemished skin with a touch of rouge on her cheeks. Her lips were glazed with burgundy lipstick and matched her glossy nails. Gray eye shadow veiled her hazel eyes. She had on a white blouse and a blue denim skirt.

Eddy nodded at the empty chair next to her. “Sit down, David.”

“Thanks,” David said. He sat down in the upholstered chair and set his drink on the table.

Eddy glanced at the bubbly woman sitting close beside him. “This is Brenda.” She amply filled her sweater and slacks. Eddy patted her on the leg and she giggled. He looked at the other woman. “And this is my sister, Janine. They’re both from Lansing.”

Janine smiled. “Hi, David.” She sipped her martini.

“Hi, Janine,” David said.

Eddy eyed David and grinned. “You can dance with her”—he chuckled—”but that’s all.”

“Eddy!” Janine protested. She stirred her drink with a swizzle stick.

David smiled.

“Her husband’s a homicide detective,” Eddy continued, “one of Lansing’s finest, only fifty miles away.”

Janine frowned, and looked at David, shaking her head.

David was reminded why he and Eddy hadn’t become fast friends. He probably wants me to keep his sister busy so he can romance Brenda. He glanced at Janine. And that’s all right with me.

He glanced at the congested dance floor. “Would you like to dance, Janine?” Eddy had made it easy for him.

“I’d love to.”

Janine finished her drink. David put out his cigarette and followed her to the dance floor. About five-foot-six, she had a tantalizing figure that her clothes couldn’t disguise.

Eddy and Brenda remained at the table, talking and smooching.

Janine enjoyed the fast dance, which helped David feel at ease. As they continued dancing, she reached out and held his pendant. “What is it?”

“My zodiac sign,” he answered, “Aquarius.”

The band began a slow set.

“Me and --- Missis -- Jones --- We Got a Thinggg--- Goin’ On-----”

David drew Janine into his arms, careful not to hold her too close, but her tempting scent floated into his erotic thoughts. For a while, they quietly danced on the packed floor.

Without moving her head from his shoulder, Janine said, “How long have you known Eddy?”

“What did you say?”

She repeated the question in his ear.

He smiled. “We just say hello here at the Embers. What’s your last name, Janine?”

“Me and --- Missis -- Jones-------”

Janine laughed, and leaned back to look at him.

David looked puzzled.

“Oh, it’s not you, David, but it’s so funny.”

“What’s so funny?”

She smiled. “Jones, my last name is Jones.”

David chuckled, and shook his head in disbelief.

“It is,” she said, “really.”

David grinned. “Hello, Missis Jones.” She smiled again. “How often do you come to Flint, Janine?” He felt more relaxed.

“My mother lives here, and I get over here three or four times a year with my sons. Brenda’s wild about Eddy, so she comes with me.” She glanced across the lounge and looked at David. “Is this your hangout, David?” Strobe lights flashed a spectrum of color across her satiny cheeks. “You are single, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m divorced. I get out here once or twice a week.”

The band began another slow number and they continued quietly dancing. Janine didn’t resist when David held her closer, enjoying her perfume and feeling her warm body against his.

“Why didn’t your husband come with you, Janine?” He was feeling more attracted to her.

Janine hesitated. “We don’t do much together anymore.”

“Oh, how long have you been married?”

“It’s been fourteen years,” she said. “I got married when I was eighteen, starry-eyed and full of dreams.”

David fleetingly thought of his dream diary.

Janine leaned back and looked at him. “How about you, David? How long were you married?”

“Sixteen years, and I have two sons who live with me.”

He could never mention the boys without thinking of Davey—"Don’t leave me here, Daddy!”—but he forced the padded cell out of his mind.

“They live with you, that’s nice.”

David realized that the only way to cure a broken heart was to fall in love again, and on that rare occasion when a woman as attractive as Janine came his way, his heart felt at ease. They danced until the band took a break. After that, they pushed their way back to the table and sat down.

“David,” Eddy said, “we’re goin’ to Trevi’s when we leave. Ya wanta come with us?”

“Sure, I can do with some pizza.” David lit Janine’s cigarette, and she finished her drink.

The waitress approached their table. Eddy said no, and so did David, but Janine ordered another martini.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Eddy said. Janine didn’t reply.

After chatting for ten minutes, David and Janine danced again.

* * * *

Midnight. David and Eddy took the women to Trevi’s Pizzeria, next door to the Embers. An hour passed while they all ate pizza and continued drinking coffee. Eddy and Brenda cozied up, which left David and Janine to themselves.

Jack came in with the pretty redhead, and they sat on the other side of the crowded restaurant. Some of Jack’s friends stopped by his table. Jack waved when he saw David. David waved, and continued talking to Janine, feeling renewed in her closeness.

“Our life is so dull, and I can’t get him to go anywhere,” Janine said.

The martinis had gotten her high, but David was glad that it made her talk freely about her unhappy marriage.

“He says he doesn’t have time,” she said, “and I think he’s more attached to his buddies at the station than to me.” She looked around the restaurant and sighed. “Our sex . . . a, I mean love life, is non-existent, and I no longer care.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

“Too long. My mother and Eddy don’t know how serious it is, and I don’t know where it’s going.” She paused. “I talk with Brenda, but it doesn’t help much.”

David had grown more attracted to her, and he believed that she was feeling the same. “How long will you be in Flint, Janine?” Maybe I can see her tomorrow, without Eddy.

“I usually stay the weekend, but I can’t this time, we’re going back in the morning.”

Hiding his disappointment, David set his coffee down. He looked into her eyes, searching for a place in her heart, longing to find a haven for his lonely soul.

“When will you be back, Janine?”

She felt the hunger in his eyes, and she blushed. “I don't know, David, maybe soon.”

David glanced at Eddy and Brenda, and leaned toward Janine.

“I want you to take my number, Janine, and when you come back, call me. Okay?”

Janine folded her arms on the table. She looked at David, and glanced at his dark hair. Attracted to him, she sighed and looked away. She looked at him again, her eyes playing around his face.

“I don’t know, David, I . . . I really shouldn’t.”

David placed a small card in front of her. “Take it, Janine, and make up your mind later.” He glanced at the card, and looked at her. “Go ahead, take it.” She hesitated, and he wistfully smiled at her. “I want to see you again, Janine.”

Janine was touched by his sincerity. She glanced at Eddy, then she quickly put the card in her purse.

“I can’t make any promises, David.” She pensively smiled. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do about my marriage.” She hesitated. “I do like you.”

2:00 a.m. They all decided to leave. Eddy and Brenda went out to the car first.

David helped Janine put on her fur coat, and they stepped into the cold November night. He quickly walked her to the car.

“Call me when you come back to Flint, Janine.”

He opened the door and she and got in. After he shut the door, she intently watched him as he walked away.

At his car, David turned and waved. Then he got in and drove off.

With all the single women around, why am I so attracted to a married woman? I said I’d never do that, but there’s something about her. And it’s been too damn long since I’ve had this kind of feeling. But anyway, it’s out of my hands.


3. NOT YET AWARE

Saturday night, December 1974.

Steve and Robby were at their mother’s home for the night. Sitting in the living room in jeans and shirt, David watched the evening news.

After that, he turned off the television. He used television for escapism, but whenever he finished a stirring documentary, or an insightful drama, he would turn it off. He wouldn’t let an obnoxious commercial about hemorrhoids destroy the quality of the moment.

He had realized, too late, that in his wife and children, he had a beautiful rose garden, but he didn’t cultivate it. He wished that someone had told him how much he was neglecting his wife, and as all men do, he wished for a second chance. The pain had gotten worse when he at last admitted that it was over. When he had to look for someone else, he realized that Cathy’s radiant charm and beauty had spoiled him.

David tried to conceal it, but two months after their separation, depression had a death grip on him, and the grip had tightened.

* * * *
April 1972.

Deep in thought, David approached the green traffic light at Hill Road and South Saginaw. His driver-side window was down. Though familiar with the crossing, his mind was engrossed with his pending divorce.

The light changed, but David was oblivious to the red light and kept going straight into the intersection.

“Hey, you idiot!” He faintly heard the cry from a pedestrian that he almost hit. “The light’s red!” The second cry jarred him out of his trance.

Glancing at the passenger-side window, David saw a Kenworth eighteen-wheeler bearing down on him.

The horrified truck driver saw David directly in his path, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. He fleetingly thought that it was he that had run the red light.

Before David could feel fear, the huge truck slammed into the side of his car and shoved it all the way across the road. David’s seat belt had prevented serious injury, but it didn’t do anything for his shaky nerves.

“Oh, my God,” he said. He got out and leaned against the car. “What have I done?”

The trucker jumped out of his cab and ran around to David. “Jesus, I stood straight up on my brake pedal.” He shook his head. “What the hell were you doing?”
* * * *

Some time after that, David read an article that said people in the midst of a divorce were more inclined to accidents. Now they tell me, he had thought.

He stood up and stretched. I was too obsessed with wanting to write, instead of enjoying life with Cathy. Why do we learn too late? Never mind the we shit. Everybody doesn’t screw up.

He glanced around the room. Jesus, I’ve got to get out of here. I need to go somewhere, and get rid of these heavy thoughts. He went into the bedroom to get dressed.

* * * *

Sunday afternoon, January 12, 1975.

Sitting in the living room, David contemplated single life. There must be tens of thousands of singles in any large city, going out every week in search of love. But most aren’t attracted to each other, and spend years looking for someone else, never connecting with that special someone. Then one day a lonely divorced man meets an unsatisfied married woman. She doesn’t go out of her way to find him, and he doesn’t barhop the night away seeking her. They’re just there, at the appointed time, perhaps fated lovers in the night. It seems that nature doesn’t heed the mores of society, and ignores pretensions of morality.

Nietzsche said, ‘Our destiny rules over us, even when we are not yet aware of it.’ But I don’t know about that, and I’ll probably never see Janine again.

Steve and Robby came into the living room.

Steve’s slender face broke into a smile. “Dad, isn’t it about time to order the pizza?” He brushed his long hair with his hand, and his eyes glistened. He was still slim, like David. In August, he would be sixteen, and in a few years, he would be taller than David.

“It’s been a long time since we had pizza,” Robby said. “I can’t even remember.”

David yawned, acting unconcerned. He put on a sober face. “Aw, c`mon, Robby. You’re not trying to con me, are you?”

Robby stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and revealed a shy smile. His long hair was slightly curly like his mother’s, but he wasn’t as tall as Steve. Robby would be fourteen in two months.

“Robby’s right, Dad,” Steve said. “I’ll bet you can’t even remember.”

Robby glanced at Steve, and looked at David. “And we want it in time for the Super Bowl, don’t we, Dad?”

“We sure do, Robby,” David said. He slipped on his shoes and stood up. “I’ll call Little Caesar’s.” He went into the kitchen and returned shortly.

“Dad,” Steve said, “is it okay if Johnny Stone comes over to watch the Super Bowl with us?”

“Sure.” David reflected. “Isn’t he the kid that comes home from school with you sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Robby replied. “He’s in Steve’s grade.”

David put on his coat and turned toward the door. “You said his dad was dead, didn’t you, Steve?”

“Yeah, he was, a . . . he was executed in California.”

David immediately turned around. “Executed?”

“Johnny don’t talk about it much,” Robby said, “but his dad killed a man in a convenience store, like a Seven-Eleven.”

“Jesus,” David said, “what a hell of a thing.” He stood by the door. “When did it happen, I mean the execution?”

“I think it was in nineteen sixty-nine,” Steve said.

Robby said, “They let Johnny and Missis Stone see him before the execution.”

“Poor kid,” David said. “Isn’t he your age, Steve?”

“Yeah. Johnny was just ten years old then.”

“That’s an awful experience for anyone, much less a child that age. What kind of a kid is Johnny?”

“He’s okay,” Steve replied.

“Sometimes he gets a little too excited,” Robby added.

“What’s his mother like?” David asked. A ten-year-old kid. What a fate, and he had no choice.

“Missis Stone’s real nice,” Robby answered.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “She had a drinking problem when Johnny was a baby, but now she’s an AA member.” He paused. “I think she goes once a week.”

“Well, be a friend to Johnny,” David said, “and call him and tell him to get over here right away.”

Steve smiled. “Okay, Dad.”

David looked at Robby. “Clear the coffee table, Robby, and get the napkins. I’ll be back in a jiffy, and then it’s the . . . Super Bowl!”

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“YEAH,” Robby shouted.

David opened the door, recalling the last time Davey was home, shortly before he died. Davey had been totally thrilled that he could watch a football game with his brothers.

Many parents don’t know how fortunate they are, David thought. A healthy kid is a sacred stroke of luck.

He went to get pizza.

* * * *

March, Friday night coming fast.

David was sitting on the sofa. He sometimes sat for hours in a philosophical mood, soaring higher than the solar system. He had usually been into creativity rather than his family. Instead of going to bed with Cathy, in the final years of their marriage he was up late, ruminating about life.

I wonder if the anxiety I often feel is an evolutionary hangover, from the time when the first cave-guy peered outside his hole in the rock, wondering if he would be clobbered. And why am I always restless, with a feeling that I’m missing something? Maybe some people are born with a powerful sense of destiny, and in their endless wanderings, maybe they seek a way to the top of the mountain. Maybe they believe that if they follow their yearning, they’ll do whatever’s destined for them. And maybe the hunger they were born with will be satisfied then.

He shook his head. Hell, I don’t know.

But so many have longed to paint, to act, to dance, or write, and they didn’t follow up on it. And they all wound up with the same dismal feeling—a lost enthusiasm for life, a dull emptiness. They wished that they had followed their star while they could still see it shimmering. Now, they’re like withered flowers and dead dreams, because they existed without knowing life’s fullness. They probably all wish they could have one last shot, one more chance to be what they were born to be, instead of settling for second best. I pray to God I’ll never wind up a bitter ghost of the man I was meant to be, but it does make me wonder if following the star was what destroyed my life with Cathy.

Steve answered the telephone in his bedroom. “Dad,” he yelled, “it’s for you.” He waited for David to get the phone. “Robby,” Steve said, “get ready, Mom’ll be here soon.”

David picked up the phone and glanced out the kitchen window. He wondered if Cathy would come to the door.

“Hello,” he said as he glanced out the window again. “Janine? Oh, Janine. Are you in town?” He smiled and listened. “Tonight, at the Embers?”

They talked for a few minutes.

“Okay, Janine, I’ll be there.”

After the boys left with their mother, David got ready to leave.

* * * *

When David arrived at the Embers, he didn’t check his topcoat. The doorman now knew him, and let him in ahead of the line.

David immediately saw Janine with Eddy and Brenda because their table sat just inside the door. He walked over.

“Hello,” he said, looking at Janine. She was just as appealing as he remembered.

Janine acted surprised to see him. “Hi David.”

She still had her fur coat on. Her smooth cheeks had a touch of rouge, and pink lipstick adorned her lips. She had on a white blouse, a dark blue skirt, light blue meshed hose, and blue, patent leather high-heels.

“Hey, David,” Eddy said, “fancy meetin’ you here.” Brenda giggled. Eddy gestured at an empty chair. “We just got here.”

David sat down and looked directly into Janine’s hazel eyes. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

“I think it has,” she replied.

Eddy chuckled. “I betcha didn’t think you’d run into the three of us again.” After some idle chatter, he and Brenda began talking with each other.

David wanted to get Janine out of the Embers as soon as he could. “Are you hungry, Janine?” he softly asked.

“Not really, why?”

David glanced at the lovebirds, and leaned toward Janine. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, emboldened by her phone call.

Before she could say anything, he took her hand and she instinctively grabbed her purse. He had towed her to the lobby entrance when a surprised Eddy looked up.

“Hey,” Eddy yelled, “where you guys goin’?”

“We’ll see you later,” David shouted. He rushed Janine into the lobby. As they hurried by the line of people, they were laughing.

They stepped into the winter night. “Be careful,” he said, the vapor of his breath floating away. “There’s a patch of ice just ahead.” He put his arm around her waist and they walked toward the car.

She feels so good, he thought.

When they got in the car, she said, “Where are we going?”

He drove out of the parking lot. “It’s a surprise,” he replied. Then he headed for home.

* * * *

The only lights on were the bottom globe of the lamp on the marble-topped end table, the light on the kitchen range, and a night-light in the bathroom.

David said, “Let me have your coat, Janine.” He helped her take it off, and then she glanced around the apartment.

“Sit down,” he said. As he put her coat in the coat closet, he could smell her perfume. Her coat looks good in my closet.

Janine sat down at the end of the sofa, and with a toss of her head, flung back her dark brown hair.

“Hungry?” she said, smiling. “I didn’t know you meant home cooking.”

He laughed.

She put her purse on the coffee table and placed her cigarettes beside it.

David took off his sport jacket and draped it on a nearby chair. As he loosened another button at the top of his shirt, Janine watched him

“Do you always keep the lights so low?” she asked.

He chuckled. “No, not when I’m reading.”

Janine nervously smiled. “I can’t believe that I came here.” She carefully crossed her legs, tugged at her skirt, and placed her arm on the armrest.

“I’m glad you came,” David said. He turned the stereo on low and stood by the coffee table.

“Everything is Beau - ti - Ful --- In its Own Waa - aay-------”

“You look lovely, Janine.” It had been some time since a woman was in his apartment, and never one like Janine.

She lightly blushed. “Thank you.” She glanced at his ring. “Is that your birthstone, David?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Amethyst, isn’t that February?”

“Yeah. Can I fix you a drink?”

“Yes, I think I need a drink.” She took a cigarette from the pack.

He walked over and lit it for her.

She blew a cloud of smoke away from David. “Can you make me a martini?”

“Sure thing, only be a minute.” He went into the kitchen.

Janine glanced around the living room. Her eyes fell upon a woodcut picture on the wall. It depicted two lovers walking in the park. She smiled.

“I like your place, David.” She looked down the dark hallway toward the bedrooms. “Where are your boys?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, at their mother’s.”

David returned with two drinks, handing her one.

“Thank you,” Janine said and sipped her drink. “Ummm, it’s very good.”

David lit a cigarette and stood there, sipping his drink. He sat down on the sofa, a prudent distance from her.

“It was a pleasant surprise when you called, Janine.” He wondered how he could be so patient when he was so hungry for her.

Janine nervously laughed. “It was a surprise for me too.” She took a drag from her cigarette and uneasily smiled. Sipping her drink, she looked at him over the rim. “So, how do you and the boys get along in this arrangement? I mean without a wom . . . a mother, that is.” She played with strands of her long hair.

“We get along fine. Not that there’s never an argument, but we’re making it work.” He drew on his cigarette, and sipped his drink.

“That’s great, David. Some fathers would never do this for their kids.” She took a drink. “And your drive to work, oh God, I don’t know any man who would do that.”

“I don’t like it, but right now I’m putting up with it.” He brushed his hair back. “I’ve got to make a job change soon, back here in Flint.”

They continued talking, and he told her about Steve and Robby and their call about living with him. She told him how well her boys were doing in school. They chatted for an hour and Janine grew more at ease.

Later, David set his drink down, and gently took her glass from her hand, setting it beside his.

“Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You”

Suddenly quiet, she put her hand to the hollow of her neck and gazed at him.

He eased next to her and began to caress the side of her face.

“David, I . . . I don’t know about this . . . I do like you, but I . . .” He took her in his arms, and she closed her eyes.

* * * *
About an hour later.

After their second round of lovemaking, they lay naked on the bed, flushed but beginning to breath easier. There had been no struggling, no protesting, only an overpowering desire that had surged from both of them.

When their aroused bodies had come together, they instantly ignited, erupting hundreds of fleeting sparks and lighting up a moment of heaven, two flames blazing as one. Now they were cooling off, their intense craving momentarily satisfied.

Janine stared at the ceiling. “I have a girlfriend who’s married,” she said, “and she’s been having an affair for a year. And I judged her, asking how she could do it and . . .” She sighed and looked at David. “And now look at me.”

David laughed. “I am looking at you, and I love it.” He rubbed her firm belly. “Do you regret tonight?”

Janine snuggled into his arms, and he pulled the burgundy satin sheet over her. “You know the answer to that,” she whispered in his ear. She kissed his neck.

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “It’s been a wonderful night, Janine.”

“Yes, David, it has.” She hesitated. “And I hate to bring it up, but I do have to go.”

“Now?”

“It’s late, and Eddy and my mother will be wondering.” She caressed his face. “I really should, David.”

“I know, I’ll take you to your mother’s house.” He sat up on the side of the bed. “What’re you going to tell her?”

Janine crawled over, and sat beside him. “I’ll tell her we were having coffee in some all night place.”

David put his arm around her and squeezed her. Then he cupped her breasts in his hands and leaned over, gently sucking them. Her nipples hardened.

“Oh, God,” she said. She ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re going to get me started, and it’ll be hard to leave.”

He let go of her breasts and grinned. “If it gets hard, I won’t let you leave.”

She laughed and playfully slapped his face.

“Are you sure you’ve got to leave?”

“I’m sorry, David.” She rubbed his chest. “Are we going to see each other again?”

“I want to, Janine.”

“Can you come to Lansing? I can call and let you know when I can get free.”

“Good, and don’t make it too long.”

* * * *

One week later Janine called David. They met at a motel in Lansing, and they were happy to be together. Her husband was working late hours on a murder case, and the oldest boy watched his younger brother. She stayed as long as she could, and they made love until the last minute.

They were feeling more comfortable together. During the rest of March, and in April, they saw each other over a half dozen times. They began to talk of the future. Once when Janine was at David’s place, Robby met her.

He said to Steve later, “She’s a fox, Steve.”

Janine wanted David’s advice before asking her husband for a divorce. “It won’t hurt him,” she said, “in view of our dreary marriage. But if he does make a fuss, he may try to get custody of the boys.” She hesitated. “And if he found out about us, he’d try to use it against me in court.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” David said, trying to reassure her.

Determined to make this a new start in life, David had a talk with Steve and Robby. They were happy for him, but he wasn’t sure they understood the part about Janine being a married woman.

* * * *

May.

David and Janine met at their motel. Then they went to lunch at a restaurant that Janine thought was safe. They enjoyed being out in the open, but they were uneasy. It wasn’t like being free to be seen. Returning to the motel, they lay in bed and talked about their future.

“David, you’ve made me so happy. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this wonderful.” She wiped away a tear and kissed him on the cheek.

He sat up and caressed the side of her face. “Janine, I’ve been thinking about your boys. I don’t think we should go out in public again, not until you’re separated.”

“I don’t think he’d ever see us where we went today.”

“Maybe, but it’s taking a big chance on you losing custody of your boys.”

“It could be joint custody,” she said, “because at their age the boys need to be with their father.”

“But if your husband knew about us, you might not even get that.” He smiled. “I love you, Janine, and I want you to be happy. So let’s be careful.” He reclined on the bed and she slid into his arms. He kissed her hard on the mouth, and they made love again.

When he had to leave, she clung to him until he reluctantly opened the motel door. He got in his car and rolled down the window.

Janine leaned in and they kissed. “I’ll call you tomorrow, David.” He waited until she got in her car, then he waved goodbye and drove away.

On the hour’s ride home, David mulled over the night, thinking through every wonderful moment.

I haven’t felt this way since Cathy. And I had almost forgotten how incredible it is to be loved by the one you love. I want to take Janine out when she gets free. I want to be with her in the open. I didn’t think I’d ever get involved with a married woman, but life’s so short. Three years have gone by without any relationship, and I’m going to make this happen.


4. THE MARGOT KIDDER DREAM

Late May, 1975.

David sat up in bed. He turned on the lamp and rubbed his eyes. Margot Kidder, he thought, who’s Margot Kidder? Damn, I’ve got to be up at five. Is this dream important?

Rubbing his eyes again, he wondered how many zillions of dreams were forgotten. I’ll bet very few are recalled, and even fewer recorded. He reached for his diary on the nightstand and wrote down the dream.

A TELEGRAM FROM MARGOT KIDDER, 3:34 a.m., Thursday, May 22, 1975.
I see a sheet of paper, like a telegram, but I can’t read the words of the message because they’re blurred.
Yet, I clearly see a name at the bottom, in big block letters . . . MARGOT KIDDER.
Doesn’t seem like much, David thought. He turned out the light and went back to sleep.

* * * *

The next day. During the lengthy drive to Detroit, David mulled over the name Margot Kidder. I never heard of her, and what good is a dream with a message that you can’t read?

David mentioned the name to a couple of salesmen in the office, one at a time. Neither man had heard of her. He didn’t press it further because he didn’t want anyone to question him about it. Though everyone at Benchmark respected his work, they had labeled him an eccentric.

The telegram might be a symbol for emergency, he thought, driving home. And a telegram’s often about death. So, is this an emergency message from Margot Kidder? But I don’t even know if she exists. Not knowing the identity of Margot Kidder vexed David.

He told Steve and Robby about the dream over the weekend, but they never heard of Margot Kidder. As the days went by, David tried to comprehend the dream. Finally, he let it rest.

If it’s important, I’ll get it eventually.

* * * *

David and Janine met several times in May.

Sunday, June 8.

David drove to Lansing to see Janine. They spent an hour at a park, and a couple of hours in their motel. It was mostly a joyous time, except for one incident. After they made love, they were lying on the bed and David mentioned to Janine that she drank too much. This aggravated Janine.

“Damn you, David,” she said. Excessive drinking had addicted Janine during the continual stress of her lonely marriage.

“Honey, I don’t mean to hurt you,” David said as he stroked her hair. “I’m just saying that maybe you should cut down on drinking.”

They made up, and made plans to be together again. It would be next Saturday in Flint.

* * * *

Janine called on Thursday. “I’m sorry, David, but I can’t get away. Some people are visiting.” They were both disappointed.

“God, I miss you,” David said.

“I miss you too. I was looking forward to this weekend so much.”

“It’s okay, Janine. We’ll make up for it.”

* * * *

Sunday morning, June 15.

David got up early, but the boys were still asleep. He sat down at the dinette with a cup of coffee, and began reading The Flint Journal.

A short time later he came upon a review of a new movie, The Reincarnation of Peter Proud. He hadn’t heard of the film, so he began to browse through the article. Not long after, he abruptly stopped, eyes riveted to the paper. He was stunned.

I’ll be damned. She’s an actress!

For the first time, David saw the name Margot Kidder. He read the whole column, but he saw nothing unusual. Reading the review once more, he slowly studied it, then lit a cigarette.

My dream might mean that there’s a message to me from Margot Kidder, he reasoned, but there’s nothing here. Damn, an actress I never heard of, a dream with a blurred message from her, and a movie about reincarnation. What the hell’s going on?

Not only was it still unsolved; the exotic enigma was even more mysterious. Confused, David took a drag on his cigarette. He wished he could quit smoking, a tenacious addiction that first captured his father and later snared him.

When Steve and Robby got up, David said, “Now I know who Margot Kidder is, boys. She’s an actress.” He told them about the movie.

Steve said, “Well, I never heard of her, Dad. What’d you say the movie was?”

“The Reincarnation of Peter Proud.”

“Me neither,” Robby said. “I don’t know, maybe she just started.”

After thinking about the dream all day, David decided that he would see the film the next night.

Maybe there’s something in the movie for me. Something in the movie for me? Jesus, that’s fantastic, but what else can I do?

* * * *

Right after David got home from Detroit on Monday evening, Jack Rankin called. “Wanta get some pizza, David?”

Though eager to see the movie, David didn’t want to turn down Jack. He decided that he would see the film the next night.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Meet you at Trevi’s in about a half hour.”

* * * *

Tuesday evening.

David left for the theater early so he could stop by the Flint Public Library. He was studying the theory of fatalism, and speculating about President Kennedy’s assassination. He wanted to read the news articles about that dark day, November 22, 1963.

A woman directed him to the microfilm section where he could search for reports on the murder. She instructed David how to use the equipment because he had never scanned microfilm. After looking at many of the articles on the assassination, he left for the theater. He didn’t want to miss the beginning of The Reincarnation of Peter Proud.

The picture was playing at The Flint Cinema, across the street from the Embers. It starred Jennifer O’Neill, Michael Sarrazin, and Margot Kidder.

David took a seat in the back of the theater. Shortly afterward, the film began. At that moment, David realized that this eerie adventure might be the wildest psychic encounter that he had ever experienced. He took a deep breath.

Here I am sitting in the dark alone, to see a movie for the strangest of reasons—an incredible dream has sent for me. And through the newspaper, the dream told me where to go to receive a message from someone, or something. And if there is a message for me, does that mean that the film was made for that purpose? If so, it must’ve been made maybe a year ago. What does that say about time and free will, and about fatalism? Fatalism says that “whatever happens is unavoidable,” and determinism adds to that by saying, “all events are made unavoidable by their causes.”

Michael Sarrazin played the role of a man in California having alarming dreams about his unsolved murder in another life. The first clue that the movie might have a message for David came in a scene where Sarrazin awoke from a dream.

He reached for his diary on the nightstand and wrote down the dream.

David caught his breath. This is spooky, like right from my own bedroom. And that could be a connection, but it’s probably not strong enough by itself.

The dream was in New England, but Sarrazin’s character couldn’t identify the town. He began trying to find the place. At last, he located the town and decided to go there at once. After he arrived, he went to the local newspaper office to read about his mysterious murder in the past.

A woman directed him to the microfilm section where he could search for reports on the murder.

Goose bumps rose on David’s arms. Jesus, this is a second clue, and what an astounding confirmation. I did the same thing only a half hour before I got here. What’s going on? Sarrazin’s character must represent me. And man, how this mocks free will.

But David had no time now to marvel at the power of a predestined event, and the breathtaking implications of determinism and fatalism. That would come later. Breathing fast, he paid even more attention to the story. Since Margot Kidder was the mainstay of his dream, he watched her closely.

She was Sarrazin’s wife in his previous life, he thought, and she murdered him in that life. And there’s something about her that bothers me.

In one flashback, Kidder and her doomed husband were lying on the bed. She said to him, “Damn you, Jeff!”

Oh God! David thought. Janine’s exact words to me on the bed in the motel. “Damn you, David!” He took a deep breath, because he now realized why Kidder’s character bothered him so.

Janine! She reminds me of Janine. Not that they look alike; it’s their mannerisms and problems. In later years, Kidder’s character is without sex, and she becomes an alcoholic. And Janine has no sex life in her marriage, and she drinks too much. But most of the movie’s unimportant to me. The important point is that Kidder and Sarrazin represent Janine and me.

In the course of the movie, Sarrazin’s character realized who Margot Kidder was.

The story ended on a moonless night in a lake with Kidder waiting in a rowboat. She too had realized something, that Sarrazin was her reincarnated husband, and as he swam up to her boat she prepared to murder him again. He tried to climb in, but she shot him, and he sank to the bottom of the lake. Dead again.

This astonished David. She killed him, and maybe my dream is an emergency death message. That brought a sinking feeling in his gut.

David left the theater and drove home in a trance. When he got there, he was thankful that the boys were visiting their neighborhood buddies. He had to be alone. It was 9:15 p.m. and they would be home in about fifteen minutes. They left the lights on, but for soft illumination, David turned off all except one.

“Hello Darkness - My Old Friend, I’ve Come to Talk with You Again
Because A Vision Softly Creeping, Left its Seeds While I Was Sleeping”

He lit a cigarette and began pacing in the shadows, going over the revelations of the evening. Though hurting from a growing awareness of what he might be losing, his latest psychic experience still amazed him.

What is this awesome power? he silently prayed. Is it God, or is it the power of the subconscious? What the hell is it?

The “awesome power” had designed a clever path to an ingeniously planned goal, involving a dream, a newspaper review, a movie, and human deliberation.

Now I know why the message in the telegram was blurred. The dream was meant to lead me to the movie for the message, and the message is clear. My relationship with Janine will destroy me if I go on with it, just as Kidder destroyed Sarrazin. But why? Dammit, the message doesn’t say why. It’s weird; I never connected my prophetic dreams with fatalism until now.

Coupled with the power of the present event, and his practical experience with precognitive dreams, David couldn’t cast the dream away. It seemed clear what he must do, but he didn’t want to admit it. Yet, he couldn’t ignore an obvious psychic warning. Still, he turned the message over and over, seeking a way out.

What should I do? The dream is less than four weeks old, yet it’s ripping my world apart. I wish I’d never heard of Margot Kidder. I wish I hadn’t remembered the dream. God, I can’t do this! Don’t ask this, God, please! I love Janine.

“And The Vision -- That was Planted in My Brain, Still Remains
Within the Sound -- of Silence”

* * * *

The next morning David called in sick. After a sleepless night, he couldn’t face a day at the office.

Steve and Robby got ready to leave for school. David sat at the dinette, shirtless, with a cup of coffee. He hadn’t told them about last night. He still had to deal with it himself.

“Dad,” Steve said, “are you gonna be okay?”

“Oh sure, Son. It’s nothing.” David sipped his coffee. “I just don’t feel up to par. Don’t worry, guys, I’ll be okay.”

As soon as the boys were gone, David knelt at the sofa to pray. Soon, pangs of sorrow from the depths of his soul caused heavy groans to rack his body. After a while, he stifled the groans, but he continued praying.

Later, he put on a shirt and poured more coffee. He went outside and walked around the complex for over an hour, until he began to feel temporary relief from his agony.

* * * *

One day later.

David called Janine and arranged to see her. He didn’t want to tell her on the phone about his psychic experience. He hadn’t eaten all day. Under great stress, he drove to Lansing and met her at their motel.

They had barely entered the room. David said, “Janine, we . . . we can’t see each other again.” Three was no pleasant way to tell her.

A shocked Janine said, “What do you mean, David, I don’t understand?”

“I know,” he weakly said. “It’s hard for me to grasp too.”

Janine tossed her purse on the bed and took hold of his hands. “What do you mean?”

She had on the same clothes that she had taken off the night they first made love, a white, long-sleeved blouse; a dark blue skirt; light blue meshed hose; and blue, patent leather high-heels.

“What’s happened to you, David?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve been trying to answer that myself.”

Janine looked into his eyes. “But what’s changed so suddenly?” She had a touch of rouge on her cheeks. Her lips were covered with burgundy lipstick that matched her glossy nails. Gray eye shadow veiled her eyes. “I just don’t understand you, David.”

“I know, and it’s difficult for me too.”

“Honey . . . please, I’m hurting . . . oh God!”

“I’m hurting too, Janine, and I’ve been trying hard to figure out what’s happened to me.”

“We can’t stop now, David.” She covered her face with her hands and started to cry. “Oh God!”

He took his handkerchief and tried to dab at her eyes, then he gave it to her. “Don’t cry, Honey.” But his eyes were moist too.

She sat down on the side of the bed. “I thought you . . . you loved me. How . . . how can things change so”—she sobbed—"so quickly?”

David couldn’t stand to see her in such pain. “I do love you, Janine.” Swallowing hard, he sat down and put his arm around her. “This is killing me too.” He glanced at the wall, and turned to her. “It’s not something I want, Janine. I’m just as hurt as you are.”

“Oh, David, I love you so much, but what’s happened to you?”

He shook his head, at a loss. “Something did happen, but I don’t think you’ll appreciate it.” He paused. “And I didn’t want to get it either.”

Janine took his hands once more. “But please tell me, David?” She tried to stop crying, and rested her head on his shoulder. “You’ve got to . . . tell me why this is happening.”

I hate to tell her, David thought, but I’ve got to. “Janine, I know this sounds crazy, but I had a . . . a psychic experience, ah . . . involving a dream . . . and a movie.”

Janine sat up and looked at him. “But what’s that got to do with us, David?”

He glanced away, then looked at her. “It was about us, and it was too much to be a coincidence.” Then he gently relayed the winding mystical incident, getting it out as quickly as possible. He was even gentler about the excessive drinking part.

After he finished, Janine was stunned. She had listened quietly, and a brief silence followed. Then she said, “Are you sure about this, David?” She wrung her hands. “Why would God do such a cruel thing?”

“Honey, it’s not anything against you,” he softly said. “It must be a flaw in my own character, or something in the two of us that won’t mix in the future.”

She just stared at him.

“It’s probably something that only God knows,” he said. He wondered how he could be so philosophical when his heart was broken.

“I can’t believe this is happening, David.” She started to cry again. “But it can’t be right. It just can’t be!”

“I know, Janine, I feel like that too, but I . . .”

“Kiss me, David.” Janine’s eyes pleaded with him. “Please kiss me, Darling.” It was her last hope.

“Janine, please . . . please don’t make it worse.” How the hell could it be any worse?

He kissed her on the cheek. He wanted to hold her in his arms, but he knew that it would only prolong the agony. Afraid that he couldn’t control himself, he stood up and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Janine, I’m so sorry. I never dreamed that this would happen to us.”

Janine looked up with reddened eyes. “You’re breaking my heart, David, and I hope you really can’t do this.”

“My heart is already broken, and I don’t want to quit seeing you.” Oh God, I want to hold her forever, but I’ve got to be strong.

Janine felt a tinge of hope, and she dabbed her eyes with David’s handkerchief, then she put it in her purse. But when she saw him glance at the door, her heart raced.

David went to the door and turned around, then he braced himself. “Goodbye, Janine.”

“NO!” Janine screamed. She got up and ran to David, almost falling, but he caught her. Then she took hold of his hands. “No, David, please don’t do this to us!”

“I can’t help it, Janine.”

“Oh, my God,! Please don’t go!” She shook with despair. “Please love me, David.”

David freed his hands and opened the door. I need to get out of here. I’m afraid I’m going to give in.

“Just another five minutes,” Janine begged. Her legs were weak and she could barely stand up. “Please don’t leave me. Let’s . . . let’s talk more.”

Tears welled up in David’s eyes, but he didn’t try to stop them. He couldn’t speak, then he got it out. “It won’t get . . . it won’t get any better, Janine. And this is hurting me too, but I’ve . . . got to go through with it.”

Janine said, “We can . . . we can talk, and . . . and . . .” She was flustered, and couldn’t finish.

He started to leave, but she grabbed his arm with both hands. “David, wait, just wait another minute and . . .”

“I hate to leave you like this,” he said, “but I can’t fight fate.” He pulled his arm from her hands, and caressed her face. “I wish you good luck, Janine.” Then he forced his body out the door, and didn’t look back.

He shut the door, and Janine fell across the bed. She sobbed deeply, and said, “Oh God . . . why . . . why?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A GOD WHO REWARDS AND PUNISHES IS INCONCEIVABLE . . . FOR THE SIMPLE REASON THAT A MAN’S ACTIONS ARE DETERMINED BY NECESSITY, EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL, SO THAT IN GOD’S EYES HE CANNOT BE RESPONSIBLE, ANY MORE THAN AN INANIMATE OBJECT IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MOTIONS IT UNDERGOES. ---ALBERT EINSTEIN -- Religion and Science. N.Y. Times Magazine, November 9, 1930. The Great Quotations, Compiled by George Seldes, Published by Pocket Books, New York, A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

RELATED NEWS REPORTS

The following excerpts are from related news reports. I believe they presage the coming global “free will debate”, which will divide our world as never before. --Lee Herald

WASHINGTON, April 23 (UPI) --- The director of the National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (Dr. Ernest P. Noble said) pregnant women . . . more than two drinks a day . . . of whisky, may harm their unborn children . . . lead to . . . behavioral abnormalities in offspring, . . . caused by heavy alcohol drinking . . . lower than average intelligence . . . Advice On Alcohol In Pregnancy, The New York Times, April 24, 1976.

A team of psychologists--Harold Grotevant, Sandra Scarr and Richard Weinberg . . . children are born with predispositions . . . certain interests . . . what parents do . . . makes relatively little difference. . . “Some kids will never be forest rangers and some will never be doctors,” Dr. Weinberg said, “no matter what you do.” Parents/Children, Likes and Dislikes: A Genetic Explanation, By Richard Plaste, The New York Times, October 7, 1977

CAUSE OF MENTAL DISORDERS
Many . . . scientists believed that such legal and social problems could be eliminated if the biochemical basis of mental disorders could be discovered, and if drugs could . . . correct the molecular disturbances that result in disordered thought. Britannica Yearbook 1978, page 418 in the Health and Disease section, under “Mental Health.”

WARSAW, Poland -- AP -- Recent studies indicate inborn traits of body chemistry . . . make some people more prone . . . to alcoholism, an American scientist said here Tuesday . Dr. John A. Ewing . . . director of the University of North Carolina’s Center for Alcohol Studies. Experiments . . . Ewing said, point to a correlation between the effects of alcohol and the level of the enzyme dopamine beta-dydroxylase . . . people with hiher DBH levels tend to drink more. Studies Indicate Alcoholism An Inborn Trait, The New York Times, September 6, 1978

A long-term study of nearly 15,000 adopted children in Denmark strongly suggests that a predisposition to chronic criminal behavior may be inherited, a California researcher reported today. . . (Dr. Sarnoff A. Mednick of the University of Southern California) . . . he cited nervous system characteristics, low intelligence and predisposition to alcoholism. . . Dr. Mednick studied the life histories of 14,427 (adopted) Danish children . . . mostly middle-class, law-abiding families soon after birth . . . Among those whose biological fathers had criminal backgrounds, he found a “greatly increased likelihood” of . . . crimes. . . Study Says Criminal Tendencies May Be Inherited, By Robert Reinhold, The New York Times, January 8, 1982

Researchers have found the strongest evidence to date that a genetically transmitted abnormality of body chemistry predisposes people to suffer from mania or depression . . . The finding . . . is described in today’s issue of The New England Journal of Medicine. Genetic Marker May Reveal Manic-Depressive Disorder, By Walter Sullivan, The New York Times, July 26, 1984

The genetic makeup of a child is a stronger influence on personality than child rearing, according to the first study to examine identical twins reared in different families. . . more than half (of the traits measured) . . . due to heredity, . . . according to Dr. Lykken. Major Personality Study Finds That Traits Are Mostly Inherited, By Daniel Goleman, The New York Times, December 2, 1986

FETAL ALCOHOL SYNDROME (FAS) The American Medical Association’s Family Medical Guide, page 310, Random House, 1987. A pregnant woman who is an alcoholic or a heavy drinker subjects her unborn baby to the risk of being physically or mentally retarded if she continues to drink alcohol throughout pregnancy. The association between maternal intake of alcohol and a variety of developmental abnormalities in the newborn has been firmly established and is termed “fetal alcohol syndrome” (FAS).

BALTIMORE – A man walking on a bridge sights another who is fly fishing. The first man goes into a rage and within moments the fisherman is murdered. Moments later, the killer is horrified and remorseful . .
A woman talking in public about her husband and son being military officers is suddenly attacked and fatally stabbed. The killer immediately is distraught and shocked at his act . . .
examples given by Anneliese Pontius (forensic psychiatrist) of Harvard Medical School . . . sudden brain seizures triggered by some innocuous sight or sound (having no) meaning to (anyone else) . . . The men made no plans to escape . . . victims were strangers. . . the acts were all triggered by . . . scenes that reopened deeply suppressed . . . memories. . .(Killer of the fisherman) had argued . . . with his father just before the older man died. The father was an avid fly fisherman. . . The woman who talked about (family) military officers was killed by a man who . . . failed to become a military officer. Sudden Brain Seizures Tied To Some Murders, The Arizona Republic, Associated Press

Imagine a world in which expectant parents know not only a fetus’ sex, but his . . . predisposition to be a poet or murderer . . . Dennis Karjala can imagine this world and much more . . . Karjala, a law professor at Arizona State University, said these scenarios and more are envisioned in research conducted during the Human Genome Project. Study Probes Impact of Genetic Science, By Susan Keaton, the Mesa Tribune, March 1, 1993

The human genome is about to become the most incendiary scientific frontier since Charles Darwin’s heretical insights burst upon Victorian England . . . (it will unleash) a torrent of information for which this society is almost completely unprepared. The challenges it will pose to personal values, religious beliefs and public policy will make the current to-do over genetics, race and intelligence seem mild . . . Scary Frontier of Human Genome, By Jessica Matthews, The Arizona Republic, November 13, 1994 (Written for The Washington Post. Jessica Matthews is a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.)

Growing evidence that a person’s genes influence behavior may create serious dilemmas for law enforcement . . . a noted geneticist said . . . “Genes do appear to influence behavior,” said Dr. Leroy Hood, chairman of the department of molecular biotechnology at the University of Washington in Seattle. “Since our system of law is based on free will and individual responsibility, could a future criminal argue extenuating circumstances because his genes made him commit the criminal act?” . . . Criminals could soon plead ‘my genes made me do it’, The Gazette (Colorado Springs), July 24, 1997 (from the Toledo Blade, Bar Harbor, Maine)

The scientists at the National Institute of Mental Health believe that environmental factors combined with genetic predisposition lead to the development of schizophrenia. From NIMH, December 16, 2004

According to one analysis, there are 221 known human genetic defects that can cause mental impairment, some 10% of which reside on the X chromosome . . . From Nature.com, May 13, 2006

ULTIMATE RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANYTHING THAT EXISTS, AND HENCE FOR ANY MAN AND HIS DEEDS, CAN THUS ONLY REST WITH THE FIRST CAUSE OF ALL THINGS. ---RICHARD TAYLOR, Metaphysics, second edition (1963) Prentice-Hall Foundations of Philosophy Series, Elizabeth and Monroe Beardsley, editors

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Today’s astonishing genetic discoveries have revived an age-old mystery: Is man free, or does the principle of “cause and effect” rule his life, determining his fate? Why Does The Lion Roar offers an answer to this fascinating question. ---Lee Herald

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