Chapter 5

I was bored. I kept wishing for my clubs so I could at least practice my putting on the thick green carpet. Then I'd remember what happened to them and become sad. Then after a while, I'd begin to get bored and start wishing for my clubs again. It was a vicious circle, and the forced isolation wasn't helping.

The nurse had arrived early and after taking my vitals, removed the drip from my arm and given me some feminine-smelling soap, some shampoo, a washcloth and a big fluffy towel and then pointed to the bathroom.

I figured she didn't speak English, but I wasn't going to argue with a shower either.

Thirty minutes later, I came out of the bathroom feeling much better to find a pair of soft hospital scrubs lying on the bed, along with a pair of cheap flip flops. After dressing, I sit back to wait.

Around noon, I was brought lunch, consisting of a salad and a freshly baked croissant. While I was eating, there was a knock on the door and Carina entered.

"Alex, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine and thank you for the shower things and the scrubs."

"If you'll tell me your foot size, I will arrange for you to have some shoes this afternoon."

"In the US, I wore a size twelve. I don't know what that would translate to here," I told her.

"Do not worry, one of my nurses has three sons and she says that she will take care of getting you some good runners."

"Please thank her for me," I replied. "And please keep track of all you are spending, and I will somehow find a way to pay you back."

"My friend was correct. You are a very polite young man," she said as she flashed her mega-watt smile at me. I could see how she must be able to put her patients at ease very quickly, an admirable trait in her line of work.

"Speaking of my friend, I have a package for you from him," she said handing me a large envelope. "Take your time and study what's inside. Tonight, I'll be taking you to my home with me," she said.

"I'll be looking forward to it," I replied as she ducked out the door.

I opened the large envelope and began removing the materials. Inside was a US passport and a Texas Driver's license in someone else's name. There was also a credit card and a public library card in the same name. The last item was a letter addressed to me. I immediately recognized the handwriting. I had been reading notes from my mom for years. Putting everything else aside, I opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Alex,

If you're reading this, then it means that everything is proceeding as we planned. When you lost control of your emotions in the hospital, what Dr. Weinstein was going to propose was that you take some time off until we could help you to learn how to control whatever it is that is causing you to affect all the energy fields around you. He sincerely believes that it can be controlled. You just need to learn how and the time to practice.

Unfortunately, two Government Agents from the NSA showed up at the hospital shortly after your episode and wanted to transfer you to some unnamed medical facility. Your dad and I refused and contacted our attorney. However, he was not optimistic about our chances of keeping you out of their clutches, but we instructed him to try anyway.

While we were preparing for a prolonged legal battle, Dr. Weinstein came to the house and made his plan known to your father and me. He suggested that you had to die. He explained that you would have to die quickly and then we would have to cremate the body to keep the government from taking that away. He then told us about how his grandfather had helped to hide another family of Jews from the Germans back during World War II. He told us he had contacted that family and that they agreed to hide you while we look for a solution to your EMF problem, providing that we could successfully fake your death here.

At first, I was appalled at the idea, but your dad saw the benefits almost immediately and explained it to me. He reminded me of how smart you are and how grown up you have become and how you would be going away to college in a few months anyway. So, I finally agreed.

Sometime, in the middle of the night, Dr. Weinstein came up with a cadaver from lord knows where and then gave you a shot of something that slowed your heart way down. For all my worries, it turned out to be ridiculously easy to substitute the bodies and then the next morning, your dad simply claimed the cadaver and sent it to Weaver's Funeral Home where it was cremated later that same day.

Needless to say, the NSA appeared very upset with your death, and even more upset that we had cremated your body. But there was nothing they could do about it. As for your part in all this, Dr. Weinstein thought it would be better to keep you sedated for the trip, so he induced another coma.

Your dad and I helped Dr. Weinstein come up with a new identity for you. We used my mother's maiden name and the address of a piece of property that your great-uncle owns in Austin. There is actually a birth certificate on file in Texas with that name on it. Remind me to tell you the whole story when next we meet. I think you'll appreciate the significance of it. We also chose that birthplace because we knew that you are at least somewhat familiar with that area from all your visits with my family there.

So, for now, you are no longer Alex Masters from Marietta, Georgia. You are Daniel Williams from Austin, Texas. You will find a new passport and driver's license along with a credit card and a library card. I have no idea how Dr. Weinstein procured these.

Unfortunately, we are not able to tell your sisters the truth at this time. Needless to say, they were devastated by your death. Your dad says that we should be able to tell them the truth shortly, as soon as things calm down with the NSA.

Yes, we did learn which agency was behind the request to incarcerate you. And they are pure evil in my book. How could they possibly want to take an injured schoolboy away from his family just to run their evil experiments?

Dr. Weinstein says that this will be the only time we can contact you directly until you get control of things, so work hard my son and come home to us soon.

With all my love,

Mom

I wiped away the tears forming at the edge of my eyes as I contemplated all that my parents and Dr. Weinstein had gone through for me, and I vowed that I would do everything I could to master this ... this whatever it was that had changed me so.

It was then that I discovered another note. It was handwritten in a style I didn't recognize.

Dear Alex,

Hopefully, your mother and Carina have explained some of what is going on. I took the liberty of discussing your prognosis with Roland and he may have some ideas that might help. After witnessing what happened in the hospital, I am convinced that somehow, your EMF is tied to your emotions. So be careful about any mood swings and begin to work on that premise until something develops or something better comes along. Remember, this is all up to you, so don't give up.

Good luck,

Aaron Weinstein

I re-read both letters several times until I had them memorized, then I lay back and closed my eyes and began to formulate my plans. There was much that I did not know, but there was quite a bit that I did know. So, that's where I started.

When Carina returned, the lights in the room suddenly dimmed. All except the light in the bathroom, which became brighter. Carina looked at me and I saw the concern etched on her face, so I smiled at her. Then she looked again as the lights became steady; then she smiled really big.

"Someone has been busy experimenting," she said happily.

"I was just trying to set some mood lighting for a visit from a beautiful lady," I said smoothly as I arched my eyebrows.

"Oooo-o-o, I must warn my husband not to let you anywhere near our daughter," she exclaimed with a laugh. "Are you ready to go?"

"Oh, yeah!" I said. "Just let me get my bags."

She laughed at me as I didn't have anything to take with me except the letter and my new identification.

"This is good because we can definitely use these four rooms," she told me as we headed down the short hall to the parking lot in the rear of the clinic. She indicated a newer model BMW and the lights flickered as she thumbed the remote unlock.

"Four rooms?" I asked as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"In my clinic, the rooms are arranged in pods or clusters of four rooms each. We found that four patients is about all that a nurse can handle at one time. When we put you in this pod, we decided that it would be better not to have any other patients nearby. You see, most of my patients have come from battered relationships and are extremely leery of males in general.

"Oh. That makes sense. I was afraid that you were concerned that I might affect them with my wacky EMF or something," I told her.

"Well, there is that..." she replied.

I became quiet as she maneuvered her BMW through the narrow streets. Her clinic was located on a main thoroughfare that was the dividing line between an area of lower-income residents and the typical touristy cafes, hotels, and shops that Cannes is famous for. That meant that most of the nearby residents worked in the lower paying tourist industry and being close, could simply walk to their places of employment. The clinic was convenient for them because Carina really believed in what she was doing. She had seen a need and was working to fill it.

"May I ask you a nosey question?" I finally broke the silence.

"If I say no, will you destroy my clinic the way you did that hospital in the states?" she asked.

Her answer startled me, as I had not even considered such a thing. But as I thought it through, I realized that while I had not viewed my heightened EMF as a weapon, others might.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "But until you mentioned it, I had not even considered the possibility. I withdraw my question."

"Having met you, I didn't think you would damage the clinic. Not intentionally. However, Aaron warned me that you could accidentally cause damage if you became upset, so I have been holding my breath, hoping that you could control your emotions. I guess it's the doctor coming out in me, but I wanted to gauge just how much control you might have, and I could afford to lose this car much easier than my clinic," she explained. "I'm sorry for testing you in such a manner, but I really had to know before I take you around my family."

"No, I am the one who should be apologizing for putting you into this situation. I am just beginning to grasp what is happening to me and how it affects those surrounding me."

"Okay. Then what is your nosy question?" she asked with a smile.

"I was just wondering, given the neighborhood and all, how these women could afford the level of care you seem to provide?"

"Oh, we do not charge my patients for their care. My clinic is provided for by very generous grants from a number of philanthropic organizations, primarily from a foundation set up and run by my family. You see, my husband and I both come from very old money," she stated casually.

The rest of the trip was spent with her explaining some of her family's history and a little of their vast holdings. It was soon clear that they were not just well off, they were indeed, very wealthy. This was even more evident when she turned into a long road that lead to a circular drive in front of a large, classically French chateau.

"Wow!" I exclaimed as her home came into view.

The front door opened, and a young boy raced down the steps to stand beside the car before it even stopped. Soon a man stood beside him and opened her door for her. As she stepped from the car, they both grabbed her and hugged her as the older man kissed her cheek.

The young boy began babbling something in French until the older man reminded him gently, "Use your English, Phillipe. We have a visitor."

"Oui, Poppa," he replied. And then turning to me he stuck out his hand. "I am Phillipe Rappeneau. Welcome to our home."

I took the young man's hand and said, "Thank you for that warm welcome, Phillipe. My name is A ... ah," and I paused while I looked towards Carina. She just nodded her head slightly.

"My name is Daniel. Daniel Williams. And I am visiting your parents from Austin, Texas in the United States," I told him. I felt a weird sensation snake its way up my spine as I used my alias for the first time.

"Yes, welcome Daniel Williams from Texas," said the man beside Carina. "I am Henri-Roland Rappeneau, but I hope you will call me Roland. Shall we go in? I'm sure dinner is almost ready." And with that, he took Carina's arm and led us inside.

A maid came and took Carina's bag and they conversed in whispers for a moment. Then turning to her son, she asked, "Phillipe, the airlines lost all Daniel's luggage, would you escort him to the bedroom across the hall from yours and see that he has whatever he needs to get ready for dinner? We'll eat in thirty minutes. And since Daniel has no other clothes, we'll dress casual for dinner tonight."

"Oui, Mama," he replied. Then to me, "Come on, Daniel. I'll show you to your room." Then he turned and led me up the wide staircase.