Deadly Visions

1 Joe Bailey handed the bald man a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. "This will change my life, right?" The man smiled and pocketed the fifty. "Only you can do that, my friend. But I can help show the way." Joe nodded. He and Steve Muren stood in a packed coffeehouse in the Sandy Springs neighborhood of Atlanta. It was a few minutes past nine on a Thursday night, and the place reeked of incense, cigarettes, and burnt coffee. Most of the clientele were under twenty-five, Joe noticed. He was thirty-nine, but he liked to think that he didn't look too out of place among the college students and young artsy types who made it such a popular gathering place. "Why here?" Joe asked. Muren shrugged. "Manager's a friend of mine. Are you ready?" "Sure." Muren led Joe down a dark hallway past the pay phone and bathrooms until they reached a purple door. Muren pushed it open, and Joe walked inside to see five people sitting around a large round table. "How is everyone tonight?" Muren said. Everyone mumbled their "good"s and "fine"s while Joe sat down. Muren jammed his hands into his pockets and paced around the room. His dark, penetrating eyes flicked to each person at the table. "I see that about half of you are return visitors. Good. I like that. It shows commitment and passion. If you don't have those two things, you're wasting your time here." Joe glanced at his tablemates. Three men and two women. Muren had their complete attention. "Each of us is born with a gift. My gift is helping others discover the power within themselves. It takes concentration and practice, but before you leave here tonight, you'll be amazed with what you're capable of. And, in the weeks to come, I'll help you refine and develop your gift." Muren tossed a book of matches to a skinny woman with close-cropped hair. "Think you're ready?" She bit her lip. "I'm . . . not sure." "Not certain enough. Tell me yes. Even better, tell me hell yes!" "Hell yes." "Good." He sat down in the one remaining seat. "Tear out one of the matches and put it in the palm of your hand." She did as she was instructed, then stared blankly at Muren. "Don't look at me, look at the match. The key is to visualize your tool. Those who have been here before know what I'm talking about. Everyone has a different mental tool that works for him. One person might imagine a lever prying it from the palm of your hand. Another might visualize a powerful vacuum cleaner sucking it upward. Very often, only one thing will work for each person." The woman wrinkled her nose. "Why?" "I have absolutely no idea, but it works. Go ahead and try it." She stared at the match, but nothing happened. "Don't get discouraged," he said. "It may take a while to discover the right tool, but when you do, a new world will open up for you." Again, she stared at her palm. The match wiggled. The woman gasped and held her hand out toward Muren. "I see it," he whispered. "Work with it some more. Whatever you just did, do it again." Joe watched her intently as she drew her hand closer. She concentrated on the match, and the end slowly rose into the air until it reached a forty-five-degree angle. The woman squealed nervously, "I'm doing it. Look, I'm doing it!" "Maintain your focus," Muren said. "Remember what you're doing now, it'll help you next time." Her hands shook, but the match end still levitated. The woman frowned as it began to droop. "What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong," Muren replied. "Just get your focus back." The match finally came to rJohansen, Roy is the author of 'Deadly Visions' with ISBN 9780553584264 and ISBN 055358426X.