Charlie's Vision

Charlie was not Grant's typical client. At the age of 10 he claimed to have visions. He called them prophecies but was always quick to point out that they were certainly not on a biblical scale. Now, at the age of 32, he had won the trust and devotion of the very same church that once ostracized him as a heretic, a rebellious teen with delusions of the priest hood.

These issues, and more, were being worked out through a controversial new behavioral technique, Stellar Discomfort Photographic Memory Process (or SDPMP). Many times he would fall into a trance during treatment and it was during these times of semi-consciousness that Dr. Grant began to gain enlightenment as to the possible meanings of the dreams. The symbolism, which had once driven him to despair, seemed now to be laid out like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, ready to be placed into the context of the bigger picture.

He showed up that morning in ratty blue jeans and a t-shirt, which featured the logo of Judas Priest. Grant could tell he was miserable. It was not hard to see that he could tell he was cold because his skin was all prickly and shit. Goose bumps or something like them. No doubt his nipples were hard as pellets. He stank of a 7 day marathon of not bathing, but the doctor didn't seem to mind.

"Have a seat, Charlie. Tell me, is it true what they say about Sarah T? Is she really a teenage adolescent alcoholic?"

Charlie suppressed a grin. "She is at that, old gem," he said. "This coming from what I would consider to be a somewhat reliable source, she has done gone developed a taste for hard spirits. Her parents don't know a damn thing. She's thinkin' some hard thoughts about maybe doing some things she might have at one time made a commitment and/or a vow to the Lord not to do, but they always knew there would come one day. Well, here that day is, and I'll be god damned if I'm gonna sit back and let you tell me I don't know what I'm talking about."

"It's okay. It's more than I knew, that's for sure..."

"That's not what I came here for, and you know it."

"Oh, yeah? What do I know? Why are you here?"

"I'm your patient. That's right, Doctor Bill Grant, I am the man who pays you to get into his mind...I am the man who expects to get a large return on my investment...My insurance has paid for the swimming pool in your back yard. I'm here because it's my turn to be prodded. I am pretty sure I need it this time. You've been paid, now let's get this cheap ass carnival van on the road."

"Very well," Grant conceded. "Have you had a vision since I last saw you?"

Charlie barely hesitated.

"I did...I did and you know it." He settled in.

"There is fire in the sky, and an explosion that knocks me back. I see things now from the perspective of a god. From nowhere, from extinction, a brave buffalo materializes into space. He swerves to the right, into the white light. On his back, perched as a dominatrix, rides the raven, the dark carrion crow, croaking out death rattle to warn the flock...'You're flying in the wrong direction! Turn around! Turn around! You are flying into a radioactive fire!!!' But they don't seem to hear. They don't seem to see what's directly in front of them...birds, black birds, big black birds, big bad black birds, one by one, follow the leader into the nuclear sized black hole!

"The buffalo doesn't care. He doesn't seem to give one whit of a damn about the situation he's found himself in. He may not even know that a demonic bird is riding his furry hump back."

"Is this all?" I asked, knowing full well that if it WERE we'd still have more than we can handle. More right now would be too much of a burden to bear.

"Actually there were a couple more things, I may have just glimpsed 'em before I woke up, but they seem clear to me now," he said. "That there buffalo was a mighty find specimen of a buffalo. But he didn't seem quite real because he was running on a table...a table with many esoteric symbols carved into the wood."

Not one of his more extreme visions, to be sure. But Bill Grant was determined to gain a thorough understanding of this one. Even if it meant losing one of the fingers on his right hand.