JC: William Redman Carter Noble Savage Chapter 57 By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005 Seated at his desk, William listened to the sound of a twelve-string guitar emanating from the guest room. He liked the music Greg Banner created. Lucy loved the music and could listen to it all day. Turning to Ken, he snapped his fingers to get the man’s attention. Once he was sure that Ken was looking at him, he said, “Doug is here.” Ken reached the intercom in time to hear the signal from the guard. Pushing the button, Ken said, “Let Doug in.” “Sure,” came the answer. It sounded tinny as a result of the low quality speaker. The guard was positive that there was a hidden camera watching his every action. That was the only way that they could possibly know when someone drove up. William stood up and went to the door of the guest room. Knocking on it, he waited for Greg Banner to reply. The music stopped and Greg called out, “What is it?” “My friend has arrived,” William answered. A few seconds later, the door opened and Greg stepped out. He looked around and asked, “Where is he?” William pointed at the door just as Ken opened it to reveal Doug stepping up to the doorstep. He answered, “There.” Giving William a sidelong glance, Greg turned his attention to watch Doug enter the room. It was obvious to him that the young man knew the people of the household and his way around the house. Waving a hand to William and saying a quick hello, Doug walked past them and called into the kitchen, “Hello Lisa. Could you give me a cup of that wonderful coffee of yours?” “I’m pouring it right now,” Lisa answered. A moment later, she handed him a cup. “Thank you,” Doug said before taking a sip. He had just driven almost nine hours non-stop from New Jersey and was exhausted. With a sigh, he said, “Wonderful.” “Thank you, Doug,” Lisa said. Doug went over to his favorite chair, but didn’t bother to take a seat. After taking another sip of coffee, he looked across the room at William. He set the cup of coffee on a coaster and said, “I’ve been driving for nine hours straight. That reminds me, which room is mine?” William pointed down the hall and said, “Your usual room.” “I’ll be right back,” Doug said heading to the guest room. Greg looked at William and said, “He’s pretty rude.” “No. He’s got to go to the bathroom,” William said. Used to people entering the house, stripping, and heading to the pool with the barest of hellos, William did not consider Doug’s behavior as exceptional. “I don’t mean that. He’s a rude guest,” Greg said. “Oh that. He’s like family and not a guest. The only reason he asked which room was his is because he sleeps on the couch when we have a lot of guests,” William said. “Oh,” Greg said. It was five minutes later that Doug came out of his room to find William and Greg seated on the sofa. Settling into his favorite chair, he asked, “So what’s so important that you have me come here all of the way from Princeton?” William answered, “I want you to meet Greg Banner. Greg, this is Doug.” Doug stood up, and went over to Greg. He extended a hand and said, “I’m pleased to meet you.” Still rather taken aback by the rude behavior he had witnessed, Greg answered, “Same here, I think.” Stretching to get a kink out of his back, Doug asked, “Now that we’ve met, what’s next?” “I want you to tell Greg about your idea about a crisis of followership,” William answered. “Is he going to help you in constructing your equations?” Doug asked suddenly alert and focused on the discussion. “No. I have a feeling that he’s going to be part of implementing a solution,” William answered looking over at Greg. Puzzled by the discussion, Greg didn’t even know where to begin asking questions. Doug returned to his chair and took a sip of his coffee trying to decide how a single person would have a role in implementing a solution. He took moment to savor the taste of the coffee before starting to describe what he meant by a crisis of followership. The discussion flowed as the three young men bent their minds to the issue. Greg debated every aspect of the proposed theory. After three hours, Greg sat back and said, “I believe that you are correct. It fits with things that I’ve heard as I’ve traveled around the country. The problem is that I don’t know what I can do to help.” “I don’t know what needs to be done, yet,” William said. He frowned and then said, “It will be years before I’ve finished developing the theory. It will be years more before I figure out what can be done to change the path down which this country marches.” “I see,” Greg said. It was going to be an interesting challenge. One of the roles of a Bard was to convey information from one place to another. It was an important role, but not the most important one. The more important role was to listen to the people. The problem that William and Doug had put forth was going to influence how he heard what people said. Shaking his head, Doug said, “There is still a lot of information that William requires and I’m having problems locating it. We may never solve this problem.” Greg nodded his head and thought about it. His conversation with the Grand Druid had suggested that William was a special character and not to be dismissed. The more time he had spent with the young man, the easier it came to accept the Grand Druid’s advice. Looking at William, he asked, “What do you think of it taking years to accomplish your task?” “I think it is great. It gives my work a consistent direction,” William answered. He could think of nothing more tragic than to spend his life drifting from one minor problem to the next. He wanted, no he needed, something substantial on which to work. There were others who were satisfied with solving the minor problems and making a difference in the day to day lives of individuals. He wanted to change the world to help all of them. “It doesn’t bother you that you’ll spend years working on something without knowing that you’ll eventually solve it?” Greg asked. “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” William answered. “But Rome wasn’t the result of a plan created by a single individual,” Greg countered. William grinned and said, “I know. That’s probably why it fell.” Relaxing around the patio table the next afternoon, the three young men were discussing music. William was interested in how Greg viewed his form of service while Doug was interested in how Greg’s music differed from that heard on radios. Greg said, “I believe in mind music.” “What’s that?” “I believe that there are some songs that affect the way we think and act just by hearing them. I’m not talking about lyrics, but about pure music,” Greg said. “I don’t understand,” Doug said. “Well, consider the sound of chalk on a blackboard. That screech has an immediate effect on most people.” “I hate that sound,” Doug said giving an involuntary shudder at the memory of it. “You see, that is just one kind of sound that directly affects the mind. We all know it because it is so negative. The amazing thing is that it is independent of culture. I can go anywhere in the world and produce the sound of chalk on a blackboard with identical results. “I believe that there are positive versions that instill tranquility, love, satisfaction, and other positive emotional experiences. I just haven’t found it yet, although the sound of a kitten purring comes close,” Greg said. “Is that your quest?” William asked. “Yes, it is,” Greg answered. “What about marches? Aren’t they examples?” Doug asked. “Oh, there are lots of things that come close. Marches, hymns, fugues, chants, and other sounds are very close. Still, none of them have that instinctive reaction that I am seeking,” Greg answered. He found it difficult to put into words. Groping for words, he said, “It’s got to be a sound that is immediate and instinctual.” “Do you have any other ideas?” Greg took a deep breath and let loose with a little burst of song. The voice was strange and haunting with multiple resonances present within it. Chills went down Doug’s spine on hearing it. Once he had finished, Doug said, “That’s incredible.” Greg said, “That was an example of throat singing. There are a number of different forms, but they all have an immediate effect on the listener.” There was a slight noise from behind William. Turning, he examined Jan who had just walked around the corner of the house from her RV. He was surprised by her appearance. It looked as if she had been sleeping in the clothes that she was wearing. About to comment, he noticed the stack of papers that she held in her hand. He said, “Hello, Jan.” “Hello William. Sorry I haven’t been much company the last few weeks, but I was really driven to work,” Jan said holding up the stack of papers. Looking down at the papers, she said, “The book is ready for you to read. Let me put it on your desk.” “That would be nice,” William said. The stack of papers looked to be about three hundred pages. He was impressed with her productivity. Just a month ago, she had started trying to commit the stories she had collected to paper. Jan went into the house and then returned to the patio after a few minutes. She held a cup of coffee in her hands. Without asking if she was intruding, she took a seat at the table. After a sip of coffee, she sighed and said, “This tastes so good.” Acting as host, William performed the introductions. Once that was out of the way, he said, “You’ve been working hard.” Jan didn’t answer. She was staring at the bracelet around Greg’s wrist. Leaning over, she asked, “Where did you get that?” “What? This,” he asked touching the bracelet. Licking her lips, Jan stared at the bracelet and nodded her head. Barely trusting herself to speak, she said, “I want one.” “As far as I know, it can’t be bought,” Greg said watching her carefully. The gold bracelet had a very intricate pattern that was almost impossible to describe. Few people even noticed it. “For the past month, I’ve been barely able to eat or sleep. It’s like I’ve been driven to write,” she said. Reaching out, she touched the bracelet and stroked it. A shiver of excitement ran through her body. “Interesting,” William commented while watching Jan. This was a side of the woman that he had never seen before and he found it fascinating. “If you are to get one, it will come to you and not vice versa,” Greg said. Her intense interest in the bracelet was making him nervous. He moved his arm to break contact. Sighing, Jan looked up and said, “I guess that is a lot like life. Some of the best things in life seek you out.” “Yes, I suppose it is,” Greg said nodding his head deep in thought. Doug had watched the exchange puzzled by what he was observing. The bracelet around Greg’s wrist looked like any other bracelet to him. Jan’s interest in it was just odd. He looked over at William and saw that his friend was deep in thought. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided that it would be a while before he understood what was happening. Later, William looked up from the manuscript that he had been reading. There were tears in his eyes from reading the chapter on Happy Harry. Jan had managed to capture the complexity of the old man. Looking over at Lucy, he asked, “Have you read this?” “Not yet,” she answered amazed at the effect the manuscript had on William. “My mother does not need to read this. She’s captured what needs to be told without any help,” William said. He took the chapter he had just finished reading and handed it to Lucy. Clearing his throat, he said, “You should read this.” Lucy accepted section of the manuscript and glanced at the title. It explained William’s reaction. Sighing, she was fully aware that if it brought tears to William that she’d be a sobbing mess by the time she finished reading it. She said, “Would you mind handing me the box of tissues? I have a feeling that I’m going to be a bawling like a baby by the time I’m done.” “Sure,” William said. He reached over and grabbed the box of tissues. Handing it over to her, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?” “That might be best,” Lucy said. She hated crying in front of him while watching movies. Once William had left the room, Lucy started to peruse the manuscript. She started to read the words aloud, “If any story is to be told of the homeless, it must start with Happy Harry; for the homeless, the forgotten, and the invisible ones are his people.” Two sentences into it, she couldn’t have set it down even if the house burned down around her. By the bottom of the page, she was smiling so hard that it hurt her face. By the end of the manuscript, tears were flowing. She looked in the direction of the trailer only seeing it through the house in her imagination. Smiling through her tears, she said, “Oh Jan. You are going to go so far.” William came into the room and without saying a word handed her another two chapters of the manuscript to read. The rest of the day passed with him reading a chapter and then handing it off to Lucy. Appointments, telephone calls, and meals were ignored as they worked their way through the manuscript. The tapestry of words she had weaved captured their attention and wouldn’t let go. It had been easy for Jan to live in the RV virtually unnoticed by the household. She was quiet and didn’t ask for much. The only time her presence was really felt was when she was defending Lucy. At those moments, quiet mousey Jan turned into a lioness. The only one who interacted with Jan on a regular basis was Lucy. Despite the closeness between Lucy and Jan, Lucy was taken completely by surprise with the manuscript. On setting down the last page, Lucy looked over at William and said, “This is amazing. I’ve never read anything that has touched me so.” “I wonder if we are affected so strongly because we know the people she wrote about,” William said. There was only one test of that hypothesis that she could identify. Smiling at William, Lucy answered, “Give it to Forest Shadow.” Smiling, William said, “That, my dear, is a very good idea.” “I think it is time for you to use your influence,” Lucy said. “In what way?” “Well, you are rather powerful in the business world. I suggest that you make a few calls to publishers and help negotiate a deal for Jan,” Lucy answered holding up the last chapter of the manuscript. Lucy had barely finished answering when William whipped out his cell phone. After dialing a number, he waited impatiently for an answer. When Linda answered the phone, he said, “Mom. This is William. I need you.” Linda could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that William had said that to her. In fact, she didn’t even need fingers since it had never happened. Taken completely by surprise, she said, “I’ll be there in five hours.” William didn’t even have a chance to reply before Linda had hung up. Looking up at Lucy, William said, “She’ll be here in five hours.” “Which one of your mothers did you call?” Lucy asked suspecting that it was Linda. “Momma Linda,” William answered while redialing the number to his mother. “You must have just made her day,” Lucy said with a smile. She said, “You might want to call her back and let her know that it isn’t an emergency.” When Linda answered the phone, he said, “This is William. It’s not an emergency.” “Okay. Now hang up. I’ve got to make flight arrangements,” Linda answered. If William needed her, she was going to be there for him. She hung up on him a second time. William chuckled while he closed his cell phone and said, “She seems a little excited.” “I can imagine,” Lucy said. She knew the frustration felt by Linda. William had been a difficult child to mother. He had been independent his entire life and hadn’t needed the kind of support required by most children. “I guess we had better tell Lisa,” William said looking in the direction of the kitchen from which there was the sound of coffee being brewed. He glanced at his watch and realized it was six in the morning. Looking over at her, he said, “Did you realize that we read through the night?” Surprised, Lucy looked over at the clock. She answered, “No, I didn’t.” “I guess I woke up Momma Linda,” William said feeling a little guilty. No wonder his mother had reacted that way. William got out of his chair and made his way to the kitchen. Sticking his head in the door, he said, “Lisa. Momma Linda is on her way here. She’ll be staying a couple of days.” Looking over at William, Lisa shook her head. The young couple had been reading when she had gone to bed and had been in the same place when she had gotten up in the morning. She wondered when he had talked to his mother. She said, “I’ll set up a guest room for her.” “We’re going to bed,” William said. “I thought as much,” Lisa answered shaking her head. William and Lucy stepped out of the bedroom a little after noon only to find Linda seated on the couch reading the manuscript that had kept them awake all night. Forest Shadow was seated next to her crying while reading the manuscript. Rather than interrupt, the pair went into the kitchen to get a quick bite to eat. Two plates covered with napkins were on the counter. William looked at the plates and said, “She wrote our names on them.” “I guess that’s our lunch,” Lucy said picking up the plate covered by the napkin with her name on it. William grabbed his plate and carried it over to the table. Lifting the napkin off the plate, he examined the sandwich and said, “Peanut Butter and Jelly. She even made it with the purple jelly.” Lucy smiled at his characterization of the grape jelly. She looked at her sandwich and said, “She made me a ham and cheese on rye with mustard.” “I guess she must have run out of jelly,” William said while taking a seat. He looked at his sandwich and then over at her. He asked, “Would you like mine?” “No,” Lucy said with a grin. Seeing the look of relief on his face, she said, “I think that she made that one especially for you.” “Well, if you’re sure,” William said looking at his sandwich. Lisa had cut it across the diagonal just like he liked it. “I’m sure,” Lucy said with a laugh. Getting out of his chair, he said, “Let me get us some milk.” Once William left the table, Linda put down the first chapter of the manuscript and took a seat next to Lucy. Gesturing to the sandwich, she said, “Let me guess. Peanut butter and jelly with the purple jelly.” “That’s right,” Lucy said with a laugh at the look of disgust on Linda’s face. “It is his favorite sandwich. Poor Marguerite tried to teach him to appreciate good food,” Linda said.