Live Boldly

Patty Cranston stumbled toward the door of the room she rented weekly at the Rockland Inn. Its generous size was made affordable by the squalid condition the owner left it when she took out the lease. Unfortunately, its grounds condition was matched by the habits of the lessee. Patty was born of fair enough genetic stock, but thirty years of Ecclesiastes Chapter Nine had withered her spirits. The knocks of life had not left her much time or energy to care for herself, or her room.

As she passed through the hallway to her room, she absently took off the sweater which had protected her from the hailstorm churning outside. What little energy she had left was focused on whether to drive or take the bus after her overtime shift the following day. She rattled her key clumsily in the lock, and then … she clutched her sweater *that she had taken off* in stark terror. Her hallway was … warm! It had no such right to be so toasty, not when her struggling landlord couldn't afford more than to defrost the ailing motel.

Rushing now, she rattled the key clumsily in her lock, and swung the door open, only to be greeted with *devastating* cleanliness.

"Oh my god, NO," she wailed to herself. "Have they evicted me at last? Dammit, my check is good if they let the direct deposit go through tonight."

In no condition to take any action, she lurched through the foyer to look for any kind of notice describing what should transpire next. On the now immaculate kitchen counter was indeed a notice of wondrous qualities.

Yet - the current owner of the Rockland Inn would have cobbled some ugly photocopy together, should she have truly overstepped the bounds of the lease. This notice was something else entirely, on gorgeous 24lb Stationary stock. The message itself was done in old-world calligraphy with the snakeskin-green Parker fountain pen a few centimeters away at the edge of the counter. Her bewilderment grew as the most fantastic message unfolded. When she finished, she knew she would never be the same woman again. It read:

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Good Evening, my dear Patricia.

Nice room you have here. I exercised the liberty of sprucing it up for you. Do not put that Taco Bell supreme melt in the microwave while wrapped, because its foil-laced paper will catch fire. Now, on to the serious topics.

I fully realize how deeply I have disturbed your notions of propriety. Worry not how I have come to know who you are. I have a proposal for you. It is time for you, and for us all, to cease living in fear. The best way to do so is to step completely outside the bounds of the assumptions which bind us all to the slavery of reacting to externalities.

Do I frighten you? Only temporarily - breathe deeply. I command powerful worldly resources - only to use them to euthanize the gentlest woman I have yet observed? Fear me not, and with that leap of faith, let your cares drop from you, like a hermit crab discarding a confining shell in search of a larger worldly view.

In case your faculties are clouded by financial worries, allow me to address them now. Next to the television is a green envelope with the number of a Swiss bank trust timed to dispense periodic funds into your checking account for three years. Your first deposit occurred this morning so I could cancel the repossession of your car. Your Landlord has canceled your rent for the same period in exchange for assistance with his heating machinery.

Does Death frighten you? I understand. But know this - because all fears collapse into a proxy for the fear of Death, sometimes Death is necessary at the highest levels to liberate the rest of the race. Bin Laden will do. By the time you read this, he will have breathed his last after receiving a curare dart to the neck.

Evil is the more difficult topic. It is the harnessing of the full strength of Raw Intellect for local gain. Evil always has the tactical initative, because the forces of Good must perceive a threat before it can be neutralized. Therefore, you can explore ways to minimize risk, but the dynamic will remain latent forever.

I must rest now. Startle not at my processor helmet. It is necessary to correct fatal neuro-electric wavelength imbalances. Even with all the magnificant resources of every kind at my disposal, you still enjoy the simple gifts of life that I shall never know. A sine wave of sunlight lancing through a sunset, a robust laugh at a well constructed jest - these and many more are denied me. So, at the opposite peaks of the spectrum, we are dynamic equals.

Here then, is my proposal restated: If I have earned your trust through the shock of dissolving illusion, I would welcome your company for the rest of our days.

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Clutching the document in shaking hands, she glanced into the next room. The exhausted author of the document was stretched prone on the left side of her bed next to the wall, clad in a midnight blue jumpsuit with black trim. The headgear of which he wrote was exotic indeed - it merged some designer's breathtaking gift of style with electronics of the highest prototype caliber that only someone beyond money could acquire. Sleek blues, greys, and gold mixed with softly blinking lights and a blended series of controls behind a translucent amber casing.

The man underneath it all projected his own sense of Potential Awaiting Fulfillment. At a modest 6' 0" - 200 lbs he was of mortal enough stock, but there were seeds of improvement waiting about him … waiting for her? Patty - no, Patricia Cranston brushed some of the wrinkles out of her hair as best she could, tacitly accepting the challenge proffered.

Climbing into their bed next to him and putting an arm around his chest, she whispered, "I do."

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