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"I'd say WOW about sums it up for me too," was John's attempt to regain control over the situation.

Truly he thought of himself as the kind of kid fully able to handle the extraordinary. After all, he knew how the whole universe was nothing but patterns of vibration dancing in a constant state of quantum flux.

No, his honesty gene kicked in. He had read that in one of his books, but he did not really know what that meant or if it even was true. Yeah, but what about Grandpa Sam and the pixies and the stuff in the book of death and birth? Well, no time to think about that now with Julia so upset and all. He was vaguely aware that somehow in a way he had sort of contributed to her state. Ultimately it was his voice speaking those words. Right, but where had they come from? Up to that seismic moment he was so sure he had figured it all out. Should he apologize to Julia for giving her the run-down on how words coming out of her mouth were an expression of who she was, representing a reliable description of her state of mind? Gosh.

He knew - with a subatomic allowance for error of course - that those words were far from stating who he was. Furthermore, he remembered his utter helplessness in the face of Julia's emotional chapter XI with worrisome clarity. As a consequence, those words couldn't even be an approximation of a reliable description of his state of mind.

Oh, how much he missed Grandfather in moments like this. He would have known the answer to that puzzle for sure!

"I promise you, soon you will understand," said the familiar voice coming from somewhere behind him. John told himself he didn't need to turn around. John told himself he'd had about enough strange things happen for one day. As usual, John's curiosity carried more energy than his dread. If not for curiosity coupled with bravery we'd still think the world was flat, was one of Grandpa's favorite sayings, and looking at Julia he didn't need rocket science to figure out what was going on.

In an aura of shimmering light Sam Livingston stood about three yards away, gentle face radiating generous smile, one hand up touching invisible cap, well-known baritone voice manifesting the sounds of "Hello Julia, so happy you could come" before fading out.

Julia, shell-shocked and no longer safely balancing the edge of that bottomless pit she knew as day-to-day life, frantically grasped at the fraying threads of her fraying mind. This must be a nightmare, she decided. Any moment now she would wake up to find her mom standing in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. No, a former version of Julia screamed, this is all wrong! Right. Elizabeth has never been a reliable source of comfort. So let's not trade one nightmare for another. Dad, that's it. He was always there for her with his wit and good advice. No, wait! No good no good. But why? Oh yes. Was! One innocent looking word loaded with enough heartache for eons of bad dreams. Was there for her but left her for more fun with a new family. Kellie! Yes, dear old down-to-earth Kellie. Kellie, her voice of sanity. But of course Kellie would be delighted for Julia to have a psychic episode. Psychic episode! Puh! Psychotic episode is more like it. "Not in a hundred years!" she heard herself bursting out.

And despite the fact that to her it sounded a bit as if some unseen sound-engineer had put her soundtrack in slow-motion, the effort of actually vocalizing and in doing so connecting to a world outside her head, broke the spell.

"Not in a hundred years what?" asked John, relieved Julia could keep it together.

She turned to look at him. "Not in a hundred years will I believe in psychic stuff."

"Why not?" John, innocently.

Julia, taken aback by John's response didn't know what to say. She was so used to making her point fighting, defying whatever anyone was telling her. And in defiance all she ever had to do was to take opposition. Now that John prompted her to come up with an original thought of her own she realized with mild consternation that so far she had never even tried to figure out what her actual opinion was.

Her only truth at this point was "because my mother does," but this explanation was an easy sacrifice on the altar of her vanity. With all she'd been through today she could positively do without John judging her immature. Consequently, as happens so often in a paradox way, a supposedly negative trait like vanity matured into a redeeming force as she struggled for the right words.

"Come on, tell me, why not?" John pushed.

Discarding thought after thought after thought as in another world she would have discarded top after pants after socks in selecting the perfect outfit for an afternoon at the mall, she finally said: "Because the world is frightening enough without me having to worry about other dimensions and stuff. I work so hard to understand what's going on with people, why they do the things they do and I can't get even the slightest clue about that. So the idea that there's even more stuff scares me into an anxiety attack. I mean, how can I ever be in control of anything, you know?" With this she started crying again. Not those hysterical sobs, just silent tears of desperation slowly rolling down her cheeks.

"WOW, so cool," John couldn't help himself. "You know I believe in psychic stuff exactly for the same reason you don't! I mean, think of it. If there is so much more than we can ever know or understand I don't even need to try to be in control of anything at all. So on the Richter Scale of comfort this reads a 9.9 for me."

"So you're saying this didn't scare you at all? That it's just all the same to you? My dead Grandfather popping out of nothing or is it booming in from nowhere? Don't you see how a sane person like me for instance can't even describe what just happened and you're not even bothered?" Julia couldn't decide whether she should admire John for being Mr.-polar-cool-superhero or second-rate him extreme-uncool-superkook. Secretly she hoped he'd just said it to impress her.

"Bothered? Of course not. And anyway it wasn't the first time this happened. So maybe I've just gotten used to having Grandpa around."

He stopped. Biting his lip a deluge of images rushed through his mind. All the countless moments spent fantasizing about how he would tell Julia his big secret. And though hatching fantastic stories definitely ran in his family, he could not have dreamt up the situation the way it happened. This whole thing clearly stretched beyond imagination.

Julia, still focused on her narcissistic imperative to feel special no matter what, took a moment to understand John's words. "Oh come on John. You don't need to lie to impress me. Just say honestly: are you scared or not?"

"What do you mean I don't need to lie to impress you?" said John, confused, his whole being a big question mark. Positively not one of his fantasy-answers! Then it hit. "I can't believe you'd think that! Julia you're gross! Sock if I know what happened to you this last year!" The confusion contracted his whole being into fear. "You know, I thought we are friends and friends stick together no matter what but this is too much. I rather deal with spirits and ghosts and stuff coz they scare me half as much as you do." Fear primed his whole being for fight and flight. "I was so looking forward to spending the summer with you but now I'm really angry. You're so bad I think not even Andy would be interested in you!" And before disappointment got a chance to gel his hot anger into paralyzing sadness he turned and ran towards the safety of the house and his bicycle. The movement released him from the confinement of those primal emotions, and his confusion dissolved into the clarity that comes with space. The supercomputer that was his being noted 'cycle complete' as he realized that some innocent part of him was lost forever.

Julia stood dumbfounded. She had no idea of what just happened other than she had no idea of what just happened.

Great. Now John's burned up coz I showed my affection. This is what I get for being too accessible. Thanks for nothing snooping little mutant. The only person I can be safe showing my feelings is, was and forever will be Kellie.

The echo of recent self-awareness pushed to make room for the notion that Kellie never got her to admit the true reason for her misgivings of things supernatural.

The prospect of having to spend the evening as audience for a rerun of the drama titled 'Elizabeth and Amelia' stood overbearing like a visit to the dentist and made her not pursue that thought.

Well, John be gone then. See if I care.

Tomorrow she would scan the such-as-it-was town for what, if anything, was going on there. There must be some other cool citizens of the real world who shared her fate of being forced by pre-gen-x parents to spend a boring summer in the country. Consequently they were just waiting for a burner like her to make the best of an otherwise catastrophically boring situation.

As if in a trance, she started moving towards the house and despite her prize-worthy attempt at disassociation she could not entirely suppress the part that was sorry about the break-up with John.