Chapter Thirty-Two - Ethan Hernandez
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Ethan Hernandez
ETHAN WATCHED AS Jason left Bellamy’s office hesitantly.
“I’ll wait around on campus, just text me when you’re ready to go,” He said before closing Bellamy’s office door.
“Okay, this will be painless, I promise you,” Bellamy said.“Besides, since I have the time, it seems prudent to get started right away.”
Now that Bellamy’s lab was effectively dead in the water, Bellamy had encouraged Ethan to start their first session right away. By establishing a baseline of Ethan’s attunements today, Bellamy could then tailor the next session to more specific exercises.
Ethan shifted uncomfortably, the smell of old papers and stale coffee started to make him feel slightly nauseous.
“Let’s begin with something easy,” Bellamy said, stepping up from his desk. He milled about his office as if looking for something, “I know it’s around here somewhere.”
Looking through old boxes, he dug beneath books and papers that he had previously packed.
Ethan eyed him surreptitiously, he wanted to trust Bellamy. But, truth be told, he wanted to be free of these attunements— as Bellamy called them. He ached for normality again. But if what Bellamy had said was to be believed, Ethan was no longer normal.
If he ever was. The foster care system had taught Ethan that normal was rewarded. Children who stayed out of sight kept out of trouble, and kept it all inside were rewarded with loving families. He had learned that displays of emotions, of vulnerability were dangerous. So he kept it all tucked away inside, but now, while he worked hard to keep his feelings and thoughts inside, the world threatened to break in.
“Ah! Here it is,” he said, producing a small hand-held tape recorder and another strange device covered with dials and a blinking light, connected to a crude headset of wires and electrodes.
“This is an EEG machine,” Bellamy explained. “Old-school, I know, but very reliable. Our lab had access to more modern equipment, over at the medical school, but with my funds frozen…” he stepped towards Ethan, “…that’s not possible. Besides, I expect they will have suspended my credentials with the hospital by now.”
Ethan remained seated while Bellamy gently placed a headset on his scalp, the electrodes cool against his skin. The scent of a spicy aftershave mixed with cigarette smoke wafted towards Ethan. Bellamy stepped away, flicking a switch, as the tape recorder began whirring. A low hum filled the room as the EEG machine pinged to life, its needled danced on the graph paper.
“Let’s start with something simple,” Bellamy said, taking a seat across from Ethan. He produced a stack of cards placing them on the edge of the desk beside them. “Each card has a symbol, I’ll hold up a card away from you. Then, I want you to tell me what you see.”
Bellamy picked the first card up from the stack, then placed it back down — cutting the deck of cards in half.
“Okay, let’s begin,” he said picking up the first card.
Ethan furrowed his brow and nodded.
“Star?” Ethan murmured feeling something flicker in his mind.
Bellamy frowned, “No guessing, Mr. Hernandez. Close your eyes, and take a deep calming breath. Allow your mind to focus on the opposite side of the card. Imagine looking through my eyes. What do I see on this side of the card?”
Ethan inhaled calmly, his eyelids became heavy. He allowed them to close. Again, he breathed, “Wave.”
“Good,” Bellamy said, his tone devoid of emotion. He picked up another card. “Now this one?”
Ethan inhaled and then exhaled slowly, “Square.”
Bellamy set the card down, “Good.” Then reached to the bottom of the deck, pulling a card and holding it away from Ethan.
“Once more,” He said.
Ethan’s eyes remained closed, but he looked puzzled, “This card doesn’t have a shape. It has…it has written. A name.”
“Go on,” Bellamy said, his tone remaining even.
The needle on the EEG jumped wildly, Bellamy watched it with fascination.
“It’s a woman’s name. It starts with an N.” Ethan’s heart began beating.
The EEG blinked wildly.
“Focus, Ethan. What do you see? Focus, boy!” Bellamy said.
“It’s her name. The girl from the dream. Naomi. Her name is Naomi.”
Suddenly, the desk lamp began flickering, and Bellamy’s pen cup started vibrating. Bellamy looked on, his eyes growing round.
“Focus!” he bellowed,
“Naomi Halston,” Ethan said, his eyes flitting open. He watched as Bellamy studied him, a grin formed on his lips.
“Absolutely fascinating,” He said in awe. Bellamy flipped the card over, revealing it to Ethan. “It was a tower.”
Ethan’s heart sank.
“It seems you may have some precognition, Mr. Hernandez,” Bellamy said, placing the cards on the edge of the desk beside him.
Ethan rubbed his eyes, the halo of a migraine formed at the edges of his awareness, “What do you mean?”
“Among your many talents, precognition is among them. It is a formidable skill indeed. Think of it as enhanced pattern recognition. You may very well be able to see the future and possibly the past. But we must do more tests.”
Ethan was overwhelmed, this was all too much. First, a telepath, telekinetic, and now a precognitive ability? “I thought you said that people with this usually only have one attunement. I have three?”
Bellamy reached for the electrodes, removing them from Ethan’s head. “Yes, it is very unusual to have even one attunement. But, to have three, it’s something quite miraculous. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if we hadn’t received such sad news today. Ms. Halston was found dead at the base of the Summit Spire this afternoon. It seems you intuited that based purely on the shape present on that card.”
Ethan looked dubiously, “How can you be so sure?”
Bellamy moved across his office, placing the EEG into a box and grabbing a horizontal device with a set of three light bulbs.
“When you described the dreams, I suspected these were visions of the past,” Bellamy said, setting the row of lights down beside Ethan on the ledge of the desk. “I knew of one other precognitive in my work. A previous research subject.”
“That’s in the past,” he said, waving away the comment. “This is a light bar — it is used in trauma-focused psychotherapy in order to activate bilateral stimulation. It is intended to activate both sides of your brain,” Bellamy said changing the subject, clicked the light bar and each of the light bulbs lit up in succession.
Bellamy stood once more turning the lights off. The office was now lit by the desk lamp and the light bar. “Now, I want you to allow yourself to relax and simply focus on the lights.”
The lights blinked one after the other, and Ethan took more deep calming breaths.
“I’m going to ask you a series of questions, just allow the answer to simply float to the front of your mind. Don’t try to recall them, allow them to float to the shore of your mind, like a message in a bottle,” Bellamy said, his voice soothing.
Ethan allowed his head to grow heavy. He breathed in and out, he felt relaxation overtake him.
“Good, just let your eyes follow the light,” Bellamy continued.
Soon, Ethan was entranced by the lights, his vision hazy.
Bellamy’s voice came through the haze of the lights, “Tell me about your mother,”
A beat of silence passed.
Then Ethan spoke, his voice was flat, “She was beautiful and brilliant. She had an easy smile.”
“What was her name?” Bellamy said, his voice sounded distant.
“Monica. Monica Hernandez.”
Bellamy shifted in his chair, leaning forward towards Ethan. “What happened to her?”
“She died. She died of cancer, but I think she died of a broken heart.”
“Go on.”
“I can see her lying in the hospital bed. Crying. She’s calling for him, but he won’t come.”
“Who?”
Tears formed at the crease of Ethan’s eyes, “My father.”
“Where is your father?”
“She doesn’t know. He left her. They were only together for a year. He left after I was born.” Ethan said, his voice remaining flat.
Bellamy breathed softly, “Let’s go back further. When was the last time you saw your father?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Then use your mother’s memory, when was the last time she saw him.” Bellamy hissed.
Ethan grimaced, his mind fought him. These were details he wished he didn’t have to recall.
“October 31st,” He replied, his leg started bouncing, “It was 22 years ago, Halloween night. He simply disappeared.”
“Interesting,” Bellamy said. “Anything else you can remember?”
“The last time she saw him, he..he seemed different. Like, he wasn’t all there,” Ethan muttered, his leg bouncing faster now. His body was betraying his growing unease. “She said he looked at her like he knew he wasn’t coming back. Like he was saying…goodbye.”
Bellamy leaned forward once more, his fingers laced tightly together. His eyes flickered to the light bar, “Different how?” Bellamy probed, his tone gentle.
Ethan’s head twitched, he struggled to produce the memory, to call it in front of his mind. “She said he was cold. Not in a mean way, but more like…like he wasn’t real. Like he was just…passing through.”
Bellamy’s lips tightened, and a glimmer of intrigue flashed in his expression. “Passing through?” he echoed, keeping his tone neutral. “What did she mean by that?”
Ethan shook his head sluggishly. “He was gone before she could ask. She said he never even looked back…not even for me .”
Bellamy’s eyes narrowed, and he scribbled something else on his pad. “And do you remember anything about him? Any stories from your mother?”
Ethan swallowed, “She used to say he was complicated. He was kind and charming, but also distant. He wasn’t like other people.”
“Not like other people?” Bellamy inquired his pen in mid-stroke.
Ethan’s breathing hitched, and Bellamy thought he might break out of the trance. “No…just that he had this way of looking at her like he saw things she couldn’t. Things no one could.”
A heavy silence fell between them.
“Let’s try one more thing, I want you to try and recall your father’s memories.”
Ethan’s head bobbed, “I can’t. It’s blocked. He’s pushing me out. There’s a wall. There’s a door. It’s locked. I can’t.”
Immediately, Ethan’s eyes shot open and the three light bulbs exploded, sending shards of glass across Bellamy’s desk and to the floor. Ethan and Bellamy were both startled as a piece fell at their feet.
Bellamy’s lips twitched into a faint smile, “That was interesting. Quite interesting indeed. I’d like to see you for another session.” He said, clicking the tape recorder off.
“I’m exhausted,” Ethan said.
Bellamy stood from the chair, groaning quietly, “Yes, I imagine you would be. This exercise is quite tiring— precognitive abilities use a great deal of your mental energy and if not properly harnessed can be quite maddening.”
Ethan looked at him puzzled.
He stepped towards a bookcase, pulling a broom and dustpan from behind it, and began sweeping the shards of glass scattered about his office, “The last precognitive attuned I worked with tragically jumped to her death from a very high place.”