Introduction
The Year was 2001, Bill Gates had stepped down as the Chief Executive of Microsoft; the last original Peanuts comic strip appeared in newspapers one day after Charles M. Schulz died; NASDAQ hit 5,132.52 signaling the beginning of the end for the dot.com boom; President Bill Clinton announced there will no longer be restrictions on GPS satellite access; there was a conjunction of the Sun, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn, and the Moon; the Confederate submarine H. L. Hunley was raised to the surface; the first crew arrives at the International Space Station; iTunes is announced at Mac-world Expo; and Wikipedia goes online. These were some of the memorable events leading up to the summer of 2001. Yes, it was summertime in Louisiana and the living was easy as the front porch was the place for all of the family and friends to interact from their preassigned seats. This was a time for family arguments to be put aside at least until the first monsoonal rains. There was the secret which George had kept from his wife for twenty years, or last winter’s woodpile which was not properly maintained by son Mark who at 25 was still living at home, or the front porch steps and enclosed screens which had been in need of repair for ages were repaired. They were so well done that Mayor Ford of Grayson said that when the next tornado came prowling through the area he would rush to the Lampson Farm front porch for safety. These issues could only be resurrected during the cool and calming effects of the rains.
It was early evening and the rockers and the porch swing and the fans seemed to be in locked step with each other tying into the special frequency which would deliver the optimum cooling for the expended energy. The constant buzz of the insects would be deafening to a new comer but just provided an acceptable backdrop to a day now quickly falling into shades of darkness.
Penelope always knew that George had a brother Brian. The fact that Brian had been institutionalized seemed to be of some importance. Why did George keep this information about his brother a secret? This was the burning question. This was the first time in their marriage where there had been something causing a distance between them. This did not come out until George decided to visit his brother last year for the second time in twenty years. Then the secret was broken and this gave fodder to Penelope that there may be other secrets which George was keeping from her.
As Penelope sat in the stiff backed cain chair, she was aware that the Thomas family secret might be blossoming inside George. There was a big unknown, a risk to their idyllic life, a vital covenantal relationship, a special closeness which found them waking up with the new dawn in each other’s' arms. If Penelope was right, the next six months will be a test to their thirty year marriage.
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Chapter 1: Breakfast Trance
It was January, 2001 and there was still a little snap in the early morning air. George paused when he received his breakfast, focused upon his plate of food. There were three eggs, sunny side up, in a perfect equilateral triangle. The biscuit, hash browns, and tomato slice formed a perfect triangle on the outer edge of the plate. The three sausages were similarly in a perfect triangle. He moved his fork, spoon, and knife to form a perfect triangle surrounding his plate. Penelope noticed George's intense focus. "Dear, is there something wrong with the food?"
Penelope knew there was nothing wrong with the food. This was the same breakfast which George ordered every Sunday after attending mass at St. Julliard’s. George would go into these trance like states many times over their thirty years of marriage. He would be working on a tough problem, or a new poem, or wrestling with a new image in his mind to go out and photograph. This was something new because George was not coming out of the trance after five minutes with some form of revelation to share. He was completely focused upon his plate of food. George was slowly nodding his head forwards and backwards as if in some form of deep spiritual connection. This was something beyond himself. Something beyond, calling him out to join in.
The waitress came over. "Is there something wrong with the food?"
Penelope waved her off. This breakfast was not meant to be consumed in the normal manner. It was being consumed within George's mind acting as some form of a stimulus. George came out of his trance after ten minutes. He was talkative with the family but never brought up where he had been or what he had discerned. But from that moment George had changed. He now had a contented patience about all of his daily assignments and walk. His previous agitation when working on a problem had been replaced with a peace which Penelope, the family, and friends readily recognized. What George had to think about were the three images he was given. The first was his brother Brian, alone but somehow connected. The second was the community of others just there, waiting to be connected. George would continue to reflect upon these for another couple of weeks until everything was made crystal clear. The final image was a Mandela of triangles which he immediately set about painting, and George was not a painter.