Chapter 19

Stone needed more information than his earlier test gave him, so he took the eyeglasses and software with him when he left work.

Ideally, his invention would allow him to read more than one person’s thoughts at a time. Perhaps he might even one day determine a way to read someone’s thoughts without being proximal to them, like when he was watching a live television broadcast and could pick up the thoughts of someone on camera, or in an even more far-fetched scenario, when someone was texting. Though he wasn’t there yet, he was getting closer. He was able to sufficiently increase the range and strength of neural impulses being received by the software that the impulses now were picked up through different mediums like glass, plastic, and aluminum. For all he knew they were destinations he’d never reach. Not that he was disappointed; to the contrary, he was a creator of one of the most implausible and important inventions in the history of mankind. He was thrilled and grateful.

He started out the night at a grocery store. Stopping at the cut flowers section next to the line of cashiers, he aimed the eyeglasses at the nearest one, a middle-aged woman in need of a touch-up to the roots of her hair. She was busy running items through the scanner that an elderly man was purchasing. According to what the cashier thought, he was in need of a bath and a brushing of teeth. Stone learned some other things as well.

Good god, I can’t stand his stink much longer. Only seven more items to go.

“What’s that? Please speak up, I can’t understand you.”

The man turned and moved closer. She noticed that he also hadn’t shaved in several days.

“What was Newton’s third law?” he shouted in an obvious panic, as if it was the most important concern in his life because he thought he had forgotten it.

Laura, the name on the name-tag, reeled in response to the foul smell coming from his mouth and his body odor.

The only Newton I know is fig, aisle six, you are making me sick you know. What is wrong with you? You must be ill; no one can smell like you do and not be sick. Can they?

“No, sir, I don’t know anything about a third law. Are you looking for cookies?” she asked as she did her best to back away without offending him.

“Cookies you say? Why yes, I think that if I knew the amount of calories in them, I could calculate how many steps I would need to take to burn off those calories so that for the action of eating the cookies I would have an equal and opposite reaction if I took the correct number of steps to match the calories I consumed. But that is a gross misstatement of what Newton’s third law says or means. I’m surprised that you don’t remember that, after all the time we spent in class going over this.”

Thank goodness I remembered the law before she answered. I simply don’t understand how people can forget these laws of physics.

Forgetting where he was or what he was doing, he continued, “Do we really need to go over this again?”

Aiming the glasses at the cashier again, Stone saw her thoughts.

Oh good lord, what do I do? Get my manager involved? I can’t do that. She says I need to handle more situations on my own. But this is weird. Physics laws? My god, this is a grocery store. I never spoke to anybody about stuff like that here. I’ve never been to a physics class. Oh well, let me try this on my own.

“No sir, we do not have to go over anything,” she replied as she finished scanning his order. “That will be $83.57. And how did you want to pay for this?” she asked as she began bagging the groceries. She didn’t care that the man had brought no bags for them. She’d gladly pay the ten cents per bag charge just to get the customer out of her area.

I cannot accept the notion that she thinks that payment from me is required to go over Newton’s laws.

“Young lady, I should think that discussion of such important laws of physics is its own reward. I have no intention of paying; indeed, I am affronted.”

Oh, my, what am I doing? These appear to be groceries. What is that horrible stench? Let me sniff my underarm. It’s me. And my breath tastes foul. No wonder this lady is backing up. When was the last time I cleaned myself? Why is this lady, name tag Laura, wearing such a tortured look? Let me check these groceries, I hope I’ve selected what I need. Not like last time when I put a two-pound bag of lima beans in my carriage. I hate those things. I’m getting confused. Perhaps it’s kidney beans I don’t like. How did I get here? For the third time today I can’t remember my name. Maybe it’s the eighth time. I don’t know.

“Name-tag Laura, what about Newton?”

Stone wondered if he was duty-bound to report this man’s disarranged mental activity to someone who could have him evaluated and helped. He removed the glasses and saw that several store personnel were quickly moving towards the troubled couple. On one level, he shared a compassion for someone who had lost the ability to control his brain’s proper functioning, while on another, he wished that he could continue to read the man’s thoughts as he tried to deal with his malfunctioning brain.

Stone’s reverie was broken by an ear-piercing sound from a woman at the flower department counter.

“Sir, why are you staring at those people? Do you know the man? They both seem upset.”

Stone should not have been so careless in observing them and he knew it. He never wanted to have someone observe him while he was observing someone else. He turned to his left and saw that the person talking to him was another customer. Stone’s eyes looked larger than they were with the eyeglasses on, and when he smiled at her, the combination of his sparkling baby blues and inviting smile took her off guard.

I want him. I don’t care if he’s married, single, lives by himself or with his mother, is straight, or gay, has killed people, I want him.

“Let me assure you, Miss..?”

Miss Jump Your Bones, big boy.

“Judy. My name is Judy,” Judy purred in response.

And what’s yours? Apex? I really don’t care what your name is let me take you home. I’ll let you stare at me for a few minutes. Maybe one minute. Yeah, one minute, then we’ll start! Why am I getting wet all over? And where did you get those sexy glasses?

“And what is yours, pray tell?”

This was one of the advantages of being able to read people’s thoughts, Stone knew, but it was the first time he experienced expressions of someone’s unambiguous lust. Not that her actions now were particularly chaste, he noticed.

“I am Benjamin. As I was saying, Judy, let me assure you that I was not staring at those two people maliciously. I was concerned that their discussion was going to become confrontational. Did you have the same reaction?”

Yes, you and I need to confront one another. My bedroom or yours?

“To be honest, I became so intent on watching you stare at them that I didn’t hear all that they were saying.”

Actually, I think I could stare at you, and you wouldn’t have to say anything. Ever.

Stone was amused, not flattered, by Judy’s thoughts but she was not someone he could get involved with, even if he wanted to. He knew that Judy was going to tell her friends that she met some handsome guy at the grocery store and that she wanted to ‘jump his bones’, so if that was all that she talked about, he’d be happy. If he could get her to forget about his staring while wearing ‘sexy’ glasses, that would be the best outcome, for both of them.

“The man sounded confused,” Stone answered with another award-winning smile. “As the discussion went on, he sounded agitated to the point where I wasn’t sure if he might become physical. That’s why I guess I was staring. I didn’t realize that I was doing it; I was so involved with their conversation. Do you understand now? I don’t want you to think that I’m some kind of degenerate.”

“I understand now. I think it’s nice that you were so concerned. You know how it is today, there are so many bad people around, I felt I had to call you out,” Judy answered.

Stone took off the eyeglasses and put them in his pocket. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking now.

“I thank you, too, for your concern. It was nice meeting you,” he replied as he offered his hand.

She was looking for more than a handshake, however, and deftly slid between his outstretched hand and his body. She then planted a hot, moist kiss on his lips while locking her arms around his neck and swaying her body seductively. He did his best to extricate himself from her embrace while whispering,

“People are watching. There are children in the store. Please let me go.”

Judy wasn’t embarrassed, but she had to, at least on a non-libidinous level, agree with him. She reluctantly set him free and stepped back.

“I don’t live far away, maybe..”

Stone interrupted her. “I’m flattered, but I’m engaged. Good bye,” he said as he walked away from her.

Judy heaved a sigh of resignation, turned around and exited the store, not remembering what she had come for.

Stone watched her leave. He looked at the cashiers’ line and saw that the manager was involved with the old man and the cashier. He decided to leave.

The library was Stone’s next stop. Most of what he read—computing periodicals, textbooks, and articles—were not available at any library he knew of. He chose it because it offered a cross-section of the public. There were high school and college kids working on assignments, young children reading and playing with their parents, intellectuals having discussions in the conference room, homeless people staying cool in the air conditioning, and the outspoken Library Director, Naquisha Spink.

Spink was an advocate for reading skills for all children, especially ones lacking an environment conducive to learning such as some living in poverty.

Stone put the eyeglasses back on and walked into the library. Standing next to the front desk, Spink was on the phone. Her voice was calm, her speech measured, but her face showed frustration. She spoke.

“You can’t expect library personnel to know everything about every subject under the sun. Our full-time staff has college degrees mostly in library science with various minors, but we don’t claim to know all things about the subjects we studied, nor should the public expect us to, as I said. I’m sorry, but I cannot understand you when you speak at the same time I do. I don’t know where you can get the information you are looking for. Please, I’m thinking. Let me write down your question and do some research and I’ll call you back. I’m by nature an optimist, but I may not be able to answer your question. Please repeat your question. I’m ready. ‘Why does mankind continue to spend obscene amounts of money on armaments to protect themselves from each other when that money could be spent on forming an earth army whose purpose would be to fight ignorance?’ That’s your question? I’ll give you my thoughts—because too many people live in large cities and fear each other. Now, though, we can see the possibilities of replacing fear with hope by following the golden rule. Please join us every Tuesday night at 7:00 for our meetings on becoming an advocate for this in our community. You sound like a person we can use. What? You were kidding? Well, come anyway…sir, you don’t have to swear.”

Stone then took the stairs up to the “Tri-City” conference room on the second floor. He saw a marquee atop an easel, stating that in this room today was a colloquium being led by a renowned scholar on the subject of “The Scholastic Imperative: Indigenous Minds Matter.” He was relieved to know that educators were spending time and effort to attend a meeting to learn about this prima facie instance of truism.

The doors were closed; he opened one and was greeted by several faces showing annoyance at the interruption. Other faces showed signs of boredom. Three showed signs of interest; one was a male’s, but not everyone looked up.

The person who had the floor, apparently the renowned scholar, looked over the top of his glasses at Stone and motioned to an empty chair, the only one remaining. Stone slipped his glasses on and sat down, looking at the leader.

Who is this guy barging in like this, right at the crux of my presentation?

“As you can see, the test scores of our indigenous students increased markedly across all levels, but most particularly among the three- to eight-year-olds when timely intervention occurs. The importance of using rubrics to achieve these results cannot be overstated. Now, before I turn the proceedings over to our esteemed colleague who just joined us, are there any questions?”

I’ve got you now, you interloper. Who are you anyway? Why don’t you look unnerved? I would be if I were called on to make a presentation on a subject I know nothing about, which is the case here, I think. I don’t recognize him, and I know all the players. Damn, he’s calling my bluff, he’s getting ready to come up here and I don’t know his name! I know what to do: I will explain to everyone that I’ve forgotten his name. That won’t work; I don’t know his domain either. Still, if I can get him to speak, I can shorten my presentation by half an hour, agenda be damned.

“Yes, I have a question,” announced the sixty-something woman dressed in yellow and black. With her oversized eyeglasses sitting atop her head, she resembled a bumblebee in profile. “Generally, being a didact is perceived to be of more value to society than a pedant. However, both have negative connotations, albeit pedant more so. Does everyone question whether or not you have become pedantic the longer you teach? I’m worried that I might be. Thank you.”

The group leader looked at Stone as he responded.

“That’s beyond the scope of this colloquium, I’m afraid Bea, but it’s an interesting, introspective, and intelligent insight you have introduced. Perhaps some of your colleagues can discuss this with you when our session ends.”

My goodness, I certainly hope Bea is not representative of the rest of the contributors in the room. For if they are then I shall have to double my fee! Association with pedants will not defile the name of Bertram Buch. Unless I’m handsomely rewarded, that is. It takes months to set up these meetings, even though my secretary does all the work, and of course I have to travel all over the place, plus my time; yes double my fee it shall be. Who would have thought that I could make a handsome living having educators pay me to teach them? Life is wonderful. Except, right now, for the stranger, that is.

Stone, with the benefit of knowing what Buch was thinking, stood.

“Bertram, it’s Reginald. It is so good to see you again. What’s it been, five or six years? Hawaii, wasn’t it? That was such an expensive colloquium, but truly worth every penny. The weather was as beautiful as advertised and we had so much free time,” he said with an air of pretentiousness. “I apologize for being so tardy today, but my plane was frightfully detained by the weather. I can see you when we are through to discuss a refund for today. Now what’s this I hear about you doubling your fee?”

Reginald? I don’t remember a Reginald on my list of attendees. Hawaii? What is he talking about? Oh, yeah. That. I will not mention it. Refund? Never. I just decided to double my fee. How would he know that? More importantly, why would he say it? Hahaha, maybe he can read my mind. Dumb son of a bitch. He should learn to keep his mouth shut. I’ll teach him how. I will say that the coming trend in education, which no one knows about and that I am pioneering and will make a fortune from with my newest colloquium, instructional videos and online links to god knows how many seemingly related but totally irrelevant websites I can snooker into joining mine, ‘We can be all things to every student!’ will be offered to him, and to all today’s attendees at a reduced rate, and I will ask him to speak on his latest endeavors, whatever that might be. It certainly will not be in education. I’m seeing smiley faces in my mind.

“Reginald it is a pleasure to see you once again. I truly dislike flying in inclement weather, not that anyone does of course; it makes me quite nervous, you see. But of course, as our literature states, no refunds, no exchanges, so I am sorry that I cannot return your fee. I’m looking, but don’t even see your name on my list of today’s participants.”

Stone interrupted him. “Bertram, I signed up at the last moment for today’s colloquium. Perhaps my paperwork and payment never reached you. I’ll have my secretary, the one who does all the work, check it out,” he said with a smile. “If the group has a moment or two, perhaps I can speak about my latest endeavor which I know is of great concern to all here, and that is as educators we can, yes, be all things to every student.”

It was Bertram’s turn to interrupt. This Reginald, or whatever his name is, was pissing him off big time. And scaring him.

Who are you, a PI my wife sent to check up on me? She must have been going through my desk drawers and found something on my ‘be all things’ bullshit I’ve been working on. How he mocks me so. How does he know what I’m thinking? I must end this.

“I’m sorry Reginald, but our time is at an end. We must get together afterwards to discuss ‘being all things’, for I have developed a presentation on that very topic and was about to inform my colleagues here that I will be offering them, and now you, a significant discount on my colloquium on this. And great news! It will be offered, in Hawaii no less, two months from now.”

The pressure of this exchange with Reginald was putting strain on Bertram’s face, and confusion and annoyance on everyone else’s, except for Stone’s, whose was mildly amused.

Bea spoke for the group when she said,

“Bertram, for goodness sake, let Reginald talk to us. He must have similar thoughts to yours on what sounds like has been a dream of mine, being able to help all my students in every way. Plus, he’s much too handsome to be sitting in the back row.”

Everyone laughed; the people who were interested in Stone when he entered the room seemed excited now, especially the male. Stone rose from his chair and strode to the podium before Bertram could react. The two men shook hands—Stone confidently, Bertram awkwardly. Bertram attempted to sit on the stool he had been using from time to time but Stone blocked his way.

With Bertram now at his side, Stone was unable to read his thoughts unless he turned his head, so he turned his body and said pretentiously,

“Bertram, I must not steal your thunder. You must tell us about your latest enterprise, and then I will speak.”

He looked at Bea and winked, acknowledging her comments about him while showing Bertram some apparent respect. It was apparent because by now he had none. Stone ceded him the podium but remained facing him.

Somehow, some way, I’m going to find out who you really are and expose you for the fraud that you are. My god, I am so confused that I don’t know whether I’m speaking about him or me. Tearing him limb from limb is not an option, my god look at the size of him. Looks and strength. Screw you Reginald. Everyone is watching me, what am I going to say?

Bertram had no idea. He opened his mouth and began to speak.

“Feeling persecuted? I know I am. Well no, not me usually, but all those billions of children who don’t measure up to societal standards and feel inadequate and lack direction and purpose. That’s why I have been working so assiduously on creating my program that will allow each and every one of you to be the best you can by being all things to every student. Now that I think of it, you can be all things to everyone, not only to your students! Well what do I mean by this, right Reginald?”

Stone showed no reaction other than to take a step backwards. He knew he didn’t have to read Bertram’s mind any longer, because he was unraveling. While Bertram continued and became incoherent at times, Stone considered what he had done. By reading Bertram’s thoughts, he was able to understand in a short period of time what kind of person he was: part hustler, part charlatan, part shrewd businessman with a talent for spotting trends early on, part charmer, and totally committed to lining his pockets at the expense of anyone gullible enough to believe his bullshit. Stone then took that information and exploited it so that he could learn how Bertram’s mind would handle having his thoughts exposed. Stone didn’t like what he was witnessing or what he had done.

“Reginald mentioned Hawaii. Did any of you attend that meeting? I call them by the fancy word colloquium, but all they are are meetings. No? No one? I made out like a bandit…”

Stone interrupted him. Maybe Bertram was no more than a scoundrel, but he was underserving of being exposed this way.

“Bertram, better let sleeping dogs lie,” he said with a laugh and a smile. Facing the group he continued, “Neither of us means that anyone can literally be all things to all people. It is impossible. But in an academic sense, through the use of artificial intelligence and machine learning, Bertram and I feel that in the next year, we, as educators, will be able to home in on precisely where a child needs to expand his/her knowledge so that all disciplines will develop together, enabling the child to maximize his/her learning opportunities. This work will be done in conventional classrooms and homes to further help these efforts. In short, young, healthy brains can be trained to think critically about all things, whether they involve the arts, science, or mathematics, regardless of the child’s predilections, and become more successful by any measurement now used. Every child will love to learn. In so doing we both expect the result will allow educators such as you to increase the amount of a child’s brain being used. Won’t that be beautiful?”

The group stood as one and applauded. Forgotten were Bertram’s earlier self-incriminating remarks, for who could be guilty of any malfeasance if the spirit of goodness was evidenced in their actions? Bertram seemed to regain his composure and comprehension and beamed from ear to ear. Stone flashed his killer smile. Everyone was in love.