The Hallways of Roger’s Mind
Bill
"Hey there, chiquita. Can you do that memory thing now? I don't mean to interrupt, but I kinda gotta get into town soon."
Mel
Apart from the computer terminals, electrical equipment, and boxes of circuitry, there are stacks of books and papers and several whiteboards filled with equations and notes. Charley turns quickly from the whiteboard she is currently working on to look over at Roger with a smile and says playfully, "Hola Tio!"
Bill
Roger glances about, and remarks “I like the cats ... but is one of them dead?” He scans around the lab for any animal cages, while pretending not to worry. “I was wondering: how do you want to record what I say? Just a tape recorder, right? I mean, it’s not fancy, but it would work ... ” Roger runs a finger along a computer terminal. “I mean, of course I’m open to what you’d like. Computers or whatever.”
Mel
“Oh that’s Schrödinger's Cat, it has a 50 percent chance of being alive or dead. And is in a superposition of both until we observe it’s condition. But yes a tape recorder will work!”
Bill
“So, one more thing. I gotta ask you to be careful, and stick to the posters. There’s lots of stuff in here (tapping his skull) that is dangerous. And, though I hope he won’t show, if he does, do not make any deals with the devil, you get me?”
Mike
Charley's voice reaches out to Roger, deep inside his own mind. She says, gently, "What do you remember about the wall with the posters near City Hall?" And with those words, Roger finds himself deep in his own memories; discarded ones, unimportant ones, just the routine of driving to Livermore since returning from the UK last month. Minor details he wouldn't have even thought twice about, a construction site wall a block down from City Hall. Concert and theater posters, nothing to note, nothing of interest to Roger ... except in his memory now, those posters seem to flicker like a rock stage under a strobe light, and in the flickering Roger's mind's eye can see those damn RFK '72 posters showing up! In his own damn memories!
But Roger keeps control. More importantly, his "real" memories, such as they are and seem to be right now, settle on the ragged posters for Tower Of Power, Chambers Brothers, and Sons Of Champlin at the Winterland for a two-show home stand in mid-June. The RFK "Peace. Hope. Unity." poster flickers out of Roger's memory, seemingly gone for good.
Charley can sense that Roger saw something that bothered him but that his own willpower has been able to resolve it. But he hasn't said anything. And so Charley knows it's now safe, or safer, anyway, to ask Roger what he saw.
Mel
Charley calmly asks, "Roger, what is it that you see?"
Bill
Roger starts singing, “what is hip, tell me tell me, if you think you know … ”
Mike
So Charley has heard the song before and figures maybe it's a way for Roger to keep his psyche anchored to reality. Our reality. But yeah, Roger seems to be using the song as a way to keep himself anchored within the hypnotic state and not slipping further away. Maybe this has something to do with that "deal with the devil" he mentioned.
Mel
So, Charley is trying very hard to respect Roger's wishes, but really, she absolutely wants to see if the devil has anything to say, and so begins an internal debate. The ruling argument for seeing what happens is that Roger never said not to talk with any of his devils, but just not to make any deals with them. And she thinks, of course, what fool would make a deal. Furthermore, if Roger can live with them, how bad can they be? But no, she thinks I shouldn't. Huh, is he singing that Tower of Power song? Oh, man … Heh heh yeah, 'What is Hip' … Roger is pretty hip … so is Jocasta. Mitch? Hmm, he is and isn't; oh my god, he's in a superposition of hipness! Marshall? He's something beyond. Oh, Roger! I need to wrap this up.
Shaking herself from her thoughts Charley asks, "Roger and company, is there anything else you see of importance or want to tell me?"
Bill
In the reaction to the "infection," Roger is running through the halls of his memories, trying to open doors to the good stuff, and shut doors against the bad. But it means he's moving further and further into the house, moving too much, instead of calming down and getting to chill.
He opens a door, and he's remembering seeing the Tower of Power poster on his drive in, and stopping a second in pride, and not, not, seeing something else. And that poster was real — he went to the show! So he pulls up another door, and he's at the Tower of Power show, and he's grooving, but as he catches the spirit, he remembers another things, and other doors appear, to places he doesn't want to go. So he leaves the concert through the first door that isn't one of them. This one is him hearing the song on the radio, that it got on the Billboard charts. He pumps his fist in the air, but then the next part of the memory is wondering about how Mansa is doing, and a little guilt about that … and he jumps for somewhere else.
(He has the strong control he desires over his memories. But his mindfulness technique, without distance and self-awareness, is crap. So he's spiraling.)
Part of him hears Charley's question, and he gets out: "Those posters weren't real, they aren't real, I was there, Tower of Power man! That was the poster! They're real. I saw them at a show. That other … no, not real!"
But just denying the poster makes his mind think of it, and he's back to moving, running from that thought. Somewhere above all this, higher up in his mind, Maitre Kalfu is shaking his immaterial head and making "tsk tsk" noises. "Such a shame; that child too strong for his own good sometime. But non, not to call on me for help, non! Last thing he'd do. Such a shame!"
"But who's this? Une fille très sage, I feel her desire. Well, if mon cheval is running wild, a small conversation shouldn't be amiss …"
Roger's stream of consciousness speech suddenly stops short, and his head turns and looks at Charley with dark black eyes. "Well, ma fille, we can talk as you wish, but a better time, tu ne crois pas? Roger's eyes twinkle and he has a demure smile that fits on his face very unnaturally.
“Right now, you want mon cheval to stop running; oui! He will exhaust himself, and a stallion is of no worth who runs himself into ground. You know, like a horse, he is spooked. An old way for to bring a horse to bear: drive him toward the fear. On se retrouvera.” Roger's face smiles, then turns back and he starts singing again.
Mel
When Roger starts to sing again, Charley finds herself pressed hard, into the back of her chair. And with a nervous laugh she shakes off her unease from witnessing Roger’s transformation. She didn’t understand everything the loa said, but she knew it was time to wake Roger. Calmly, Charley says, “Roger, can you hear me? I need you to listen to the sound of my voice Roger. I need you to listen, because it’s time to wake up. I’m now going to count to ten. When I get to ten, you will be awake, well rested and will remembering only what is real. Okay Roger here we go, one, two, three, four, five... nine, ten. You are awake now Roger.”
“Roger are you okay?”
Bill
Roger takes a second to really come to. He looks calm, and well rested, as ordered. But he remembers being otherwise. "Thanks, Chiquita. Mucho, mucho gracias." He blows out a deep breath. "It got in my head. Those posters tried to get in my head, into my memories. I was damned if I was gonna let it, but it's real damn hard to do that on your own."
"I was … scared. I didn't want to think I was. Soldiers are like that, I guess. We don't know we're running around scared until someone else gives us an order."
"But I know. Those posters weren't there. I can tell you exactly what was there. They are fo'sure a retro-creation, and they're still trying to be."
Mel
Charley looks through Roger for a moment as she thinks, then asks, "Have you or any in our group had that kind of experience with hypnosis when recalling memory surrounding our work with History B?"
Bill
“No. I mean, I don’t know. I really don’t think so, but I didn’t know memories could get rewritten like places. Who knows what we could have forgotten and not know we had? Shit, man! Oh, sorry.”
Mel
"Yes, exactly … We should report your experience to Dad and the rest of the group."
Bill
Roger shakes off hearing a fellow agent talk about their boss as "Dad" without any outward sign of the cognitive dissonance it caused. Hell, he's got plenty of dissonance to go around; what's a little more?
"Yeah, you said it. Anyone going into that 'bubble' again needs to be prepared."