Interlude II

Hard to concentrate, but not impossible. Can’t shut the voices out, the millions of people planning, looking to the future. The millions recalling the past. Millions of songs in millions of heads. The trick was to make them into one voice, one song, one drone, om. Get back to the white noise, the static. With effort, he could pick his own voice out from the billions.
With effort.
A giant cerfuffle about an earthquake when he went to use the john.
Effort.
Outrage mingled with joy over the outcome of some international sporting event.
Make them one voice, then raise your own above them.
Do not concentrate.
Streamline the noise into a single sound.
Om.
He heard his own voice above the din.
I want cereal.
Okay.
He would get cereal. And milk. Even though time was a strange and funny thing to him these days and he already knew where the cereal and the milk was going to end up, it didn’t matter because he had spoken up, he had mastered the billions and by hook or by crook he was going to Get Cereal! … and milk. And he still knew what was coming to him once he did, but eff it, he was hungry.

Falconer was busy on the campaign trail, but not too busy for his pet project. It’s good to have hobbies, he thought to himself, even for future presidents.
The campaign trail was a long and grueling one. An endless montage of flights and hotels, and speeches and debates, but that was the easy part. Ever since the accident, he’d had to watch himself. He couldn’t score dope or get laid. He couldn‘t be seen without the wife at his side. He traveled the country like a rock star but he couldn’t get laid. Well he could, but he was advised not to.
“Okay, so,” Chan the advisor said, “After the meet and greet in Topeka we got a couple doubleheaders in Missouri, then we’re looking at a big fat nothing. Day off. I’m thinking … Good Morning America, by satellite. I can get them on the phone in thirty seconds.”
“No,” Falconer said.
“Well, you gotta do something.”
“I’m gonna check up on Adam,” he widened his eyes as he spoke the name.
His aides shifted uncomfortably, almost in unison.
“Better leave it,” Chan said, “let him die down a little. Besides, we can’t go a day without cameras and microphones, we’re hot.”
“That’s just the thing,” Falconer said, reclining, “I got a feeling he’s not gonna let himself die down. I got a funny little feeling he’s gonna make a real big stink and that radio show from Dallas was just the beginning. Who knows, maybe I can talk some sense into him.”
“Mmm,” Chan said, thinking, “I don’t know, the guy’s absolutely smothered in controversy.” He paused for a minute, thinking, rubbing his chin, “On the other hand, he’s hot too. That Marsh clip’s got a quarter million hits on Youtube.”
“I got two words for you friends,” Falconer said, smiling, “Photo Op.”
His aides relaxed visibly, almost in unison.
Falconer brushed a hand through his perfectly sculpted hair and said, “Why don’t we grab that tracker and find him right now?”

Adam didn’t like to be around people. That is, large groups of people or even small ones. Proximity had something to do with his telepathy. He especially didn’t like to be around the supermarket crowd. It was a singles bar, and all the singles pretended that it wasn’t but he knew. He could smell the hope and feel the anxiety in the air. The nerves.
If he just kept his head down and walked real fast, he at least wouldn’t have to see the worried looks on their faces while their hormones thumped in his chest and their biological clocks ticked down in his ears.
He zipped down the cereal aisle, dodging shopping carts unaided by his eyes or ears, he navigated by thought alone. He knew what was coming.
He grabbed a box of Lucky Charms off the shelf as the ‘Suit’ bee-lined it toward Adam, checking a GPS locator, just as he had foreseen it. The Suit approached him as he mentally ran the maze on the back of the cereal box. The suit was about to speak.
“Sure,” Adam said, without looking up, “tell Falconer, I’ll be there on time.”
The puzzled Suit watched Adam head for the check out counter, still running the cereal box maze.