to realize she had dropped the plate. She never considered picking it up. She ran full speed to catch up to them and did so on the far side of the pond. As she approached, she noticed they were not talking. Not a single word. Just walking peacefully, looking straight ahead.
What the hell was going on? Who is this guy?
5
Monday morning after the picnic found Jason feeling more alive than ever. He pulled into the parking lot faster than usual, and quickly parked the car. He was almost trotting towards the front entrance, when a breeze blowing through the oak trees slowed him to a stop. Looking up, he saw the old oak’s branches and leaves moving independently, and in unison, simultaneously. As always, it fascinated him. He was captivated by it. He knew it would fascinate Sarah as well. He knew, because he had felt that depth in her as soon as they had connected. He also knew that while he found such complexity remarkable, it was something which Sarah was able to comprehend at a much higher level.
Jason’s mind returned to the present, and he noticed Bob Schimmel’s car was also parked. The boss often worked late, if the situation dictated, but he rarely arrived before nine. Jason glanced at his watch. It was 6:20-odd?
As he continued walking, Jason thought back, to the day before...
“You’ll have to excuse me OK, but I don’t exactly know how to react to this. Just what is going on here?” Alison asked, a little out of breath. Jason turned to her and smiled. Sarah, however, was the one who answered.
“Nothing, Miss Russo. We were just enjoying the view.”
“Enjoying the view…enjoying…the...view! Uh, Jason, can we talk?”
“Sure, of course. Why don’t you follow me to the cafeteria,” he said, gesturing with an open palm in that direction. “Sarah, would you wait here by the pond for a little while? Miss Russo and I need to talk.”
She looked up at him, visibly uncomfortable with the idea of his leaving.
Jason looked down into Sarah’s eyes. A connection formed that was much more than visual. “It won’t be for long. I’ll be back very soon,” he said softly.
Reassured, Sarah sat, crossed her legs, and looked out over the water.
“OK,” she said, pointing to the ground between her legs. “I’ll wait right here.”
Jason escorted Allison across the lawn, to the closest courtyard door and into the cafeteria. They walked to the nearest table and sat down. Sarah was visible through the windows. The place was empty. Everyone was outside.
“Alison, we just met, and I know this must seem kind of crazy. Believe me when I tell you it took me by surprise as well, but Sarah is a very special girl. I know that. I also know you think Sarah is unusually talented, but I don’t think you realize the extent of that little girl’s intellect.”
She gave him the most incredulous look possible.
“What! How do you know about Sarah? And how do you know what I think about Sarah?”
“I just do, that’s all.”
“Look,” Alison shot back, “I’ve been working with Sarah for months. I’m the only one who took the time to do so. I’m also the only one she seems to respond to. You spend a few minutes with her, and presume to tell me...why don’t you tell me what else you know, Jason? Or should I say Mr. Houdini?”
He put his head down momentarily, and then looked straight into her eyes.
“I’m not Houdini, and I’m not some kind of carnival mind reader. Mind readers are all fakes by the way. It’s just that, I’ve always been able to get kind of a feel for what people are thinking. Maybe it’s some kind of exaggerated intuition, I don’t know. I’ve been doing it ever since I was a kid. Sometimes, I’ll respond to what someone is going to say before they say it. The more intelligent a person is, or the more they’re concentrating, the easier it is.”
Then, with a half-smile he put his head back down, softened his speech and continued.
“Ask anyone who knows me around here. It drives them crazy.”
It seemed like he was oversimplifying, and Alison wasn’t sure why, but she believed him. Or at least she felt like she wanted to.
“Why don’t you tell me what else you think you know about Sarah?” she asked, a bit of sarcasm still squeezing through. Jason was quiet for a moment, then came that half smile again.
“Ladies first...Please?”
A few rather awkward moments passed. Alison looked through the windows at Sarah, sitting there, staring out at the water. She considered walking out, and taking Sarah with her, but decided against it. She was starting to calm. What the heck. He really was awfully cute.
“All right. Uh, well first of all, how much do you know about art?” she asked, her voice much calmer.
“I know a little, just what I’ve picked up on my own. Done some reading, visited a few museums, never had any formal training.”
“Do you know why Picasso is significant?”
“I would say cubism?”
“Right, well, that plus quite a few other things. Do you know much about cubism?”
“Not really,” Jason answered, hunching his shoulders. “I know that Picasso was instrumental in creating it. I also know that it can depict things in four dimensions. I’ve always found that to be very interesting.”
“OK. So far so good.”
Alison stood up and headed for the door.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked starting to follow.
“I’m going to get Sarah, and then out to my car. I’ve got something to show you.”
Jason had a hard time keeping up with her. To go any faster, he would have had to start jogging. It didn’t seem that someone six-foot-two should have to struggle to keep up with this girl who was what, five-foot-four?
Alison got Sarah to sit on the lawn in front of her car and opened the driver’s door. Then she hit the button that unlocked the others. “Hop in,” she said reaching for a portfolio in the back seat. “I have some drawings I want you to see.”
*******
Thomas Wheeler rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, put his fists up over his head, and stretched. Then he rolled over on his side to get out of bed. His back hurt less that way. There was a time when he might have jumped out of bed, but that seemed so very long ago. Wheeler made his way down the hall to the bathroom and thought about the offer. Then he thought about the kids. None of them wanted the farm. He really couldn’t blame them. His two oldest daughters had married and moved away, and none of his three sons had ever shown any real interest in farming. They weren’t about to get trapped in a life such as this. Why should they?
Lifting the toilet seat to urinate,
