Volumes of The Mind

Neal sat at his desk staring at his essay with a big red D- on it. “It must be my words-not big enough,” he said. Neal crumpled up his exam paper and threw it in the trash. The school bell sounded and the students left.

Neal walked into the hall. His friend Dexter joined him. “You need to articulate yourself.”

“How?”

“Try using online exercises.”

“Maybe for a smart person.”

“Just trying is the beginning. See yah in science class.”

During the last class, science, Dexter and Neal sat next to each other.

“At least I can get a C,” said Neal. “It’s not so weird.”

Neal's assignment was about the periodic table.

At the end of class, Mr. Donavon addressed Neal. “Neal, may I have a word?”

Neal went to his desk.

“I know you struggle in English. I have something you may find helpful. Mr. Donovan reached into a satchel and withdrew a thick old book.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a thesaurus. But it is no ordinary book. It has special properties.”

Neal rolled his eyes. “What is it-magical?”

“No. Just take it Neal.”

Neal took the book. “Whatever.”

Later, he boarded the school bus with Dexter sitting next to him.

“So, what’s that book Mr. Donovan gave you? It belongs in a museum.”

“He said it would help me. But I will try anything at this point.”

Fifteen minutes later, Neal exited the bus and walked down the street to his home and ran through the living room, dropped his backpack and watched TV.”

Then, it was time to study. He picked up his backpack and went to his room. He took out his essay assignment and got out a piece of paper and sat at his desk. Nothing came to his mind.

Neal looked at the thesaurus and sighed. “Might as well.” He opened it and looked over the faded writing. “I can’t read anything! This book is useless!”

As he closed it, he heard a mental voice. “Neal!”

Neal gasped. “Where did that come from!”

“Neal!” said the voice.

“Who are you!”

“I am communicating through telepathy.”

“I am going nuts!”

“Relax, Neal. I am here to help.”

“Who are you? What is this!”

“Fifty years ago, I was called John Rutherford. There was an experiment to test if the conscious mind could be passed into an object. I chose a thesaurus because I love words!”

“How can you help me?”

“I can help you write.”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?”

“Just pretend you’ve read hundreds of volumes in a day. Now, let’s get started! Oh, and one important thing-this book must be open in the place where you are to work.”

Torrents of sentences and complex words came to him from a still, small voice of John Rutherford.

Neal smiled as he quickly wrote a stream of rich, good words. He finished.

“You, didn’t say thank you, Neal.”

“Of course! Thanks!”

Time passed as Neal hyper focused thought on his superb job. He gobbled down dinner and then he laid on his bed and soon fell asleep.

In the morning, he dressed for school and went to the bus stop and sat next to Dexter. “You look happy.”

“You’ll find out why.”

At school, he skipped into English class and put his essay on Thatch’s desk.

Neal watched the teacher go over his assignment. “Neal, follow me out in the hall.”

Neal frowned. What could be wrong?

When they were in the hall, Thatch had a frown. “Neal, you could not have done this. I don’t know who you copied or got it off the internet.”

“But, I did!”

“Enough. If you have done this, would you do another essay in class?”

“Yes!”

When they were back in class, Thatch put an essay question on his desk.

Neal remembered the book had to be open near him to work. He could not put it on his desk. He noticed a long table ten feet away from him. And put the book on it.

So, it began again! He touched on grammar, word choice, syntax, sentence structure-all things needed for an A+.

He was going to write the last paragraph when Mrs. Thatch went to the thesaurus and picked it up. “Does anyone know who this belongs to?”

“It’s mine!” said Neal.

“It looks like an antique. Anyway, here you are. Put it away.”

Neal put the book in his backpack. His mind went blank!

There was no way he could finish such a magnificent piece of work. So, he left the last paragraph blank.

Neal gave it to Thatch and he sat back down. Her eyes widened and her jaw opened. She called Neal to her desk. “I do not know how, but it seems like a new mind has taken over. Have you been faking your schoolwork?”

“I…had a revelation.”

“I am in awe!”

In a short amount of time, Neal’s revealed prowess spread. Finally, school ended and he felt like walking home to take in nature’s wonders.

“Hey Neal,” said a gruff voice.

Neal turned-it was Gerald, the worst bully that he had even met.

“Let me see that book.”

“Why would you want it?”

“I’m going to burn it!” Garald cornered Neal between a wall and a fence. “Give it!”

“NO!”

Gerald, being bigger and stronger than him, ripped Neal’s backpack from his shoulder and took out the book. Garald pushed Neal onto the ground then took out a lighter and ignited the book.

“NOO!” cried Neal.

Garald scoffed, turned, and walked away.

Neal mourned over the burning object. He heard a still small voice. “Neal.”

It was John!

“How can I hear you?”

“I don’t know. But I feel like my mind within you is fading. Perhaps this is a residual effect. I enjoyed knowing you, Neal. Goodbye.”

Neal knew the backlash from the teachers would get when his normal mind took over again.

“All good things must come to an end.”

Neal walked home with sadness but peace as well.