SLOW MINDMELT

Life is truly amazing with all of its mysteries and surprises. Just
the other day, for instance, I was sitting around bored out of my mind
with nothing better to do than watch grass grow. This in itself was
rather odd because I was seated in my living room looking at the
carpet. However, that's another story and not pertinent to the one I am
about to tell.
My concentration was interrupted buy the sound of a short powerful
buzz, similar to that made by an electric shock, followed by the yell
of a human body in surprise and agony. The button of my doorbell has a
short in its circuit so I knew the sound was in fact an electric shock
caused by an intruder.
I have a "No soliciting" sign posted however this fellow was not easily
swayed as he knocked on the door. I figured he probably couldn't read
like most of the school kids who come around peddling candy. Where was
my dog when I needed him? The quarantine should have been over last
week?
It appeared I would have to handle this myself. I looked through the
peephole and saw a man with a huge nose looking right back at me.
I briskly opened the door and said, "I'm sorry sir, but the sign says
"No soliciting!" If I acknowledged your soliciting I would actually be
breaking my own rules, and I don't want to be evicted!"
As he responded to my bad manners I was relieved to see that his big
nose was merely an effect of the peephole lens and not a gross
defect.
He stated he was not a solicitor and addressed me by name. He said he
was honored to make my acquaintance.
"Honored?" I asked.
"Oh yes! I cannot believe I am actually standing here, right in front
of By George!"
"Ah?what's the big deal? I'm a divorced guy, living alone, with an
income of fifty dollars a week."
A big smile beamed across his face as though he knew something I
didn't. "Please allow me to explain!"
"OK?but I'm not buying anything!"
The rest is so bizarre you won't believe it. Fortunately my security
camera recorded the entire event so I have it on tape.
He told me his name was, Mr. Smith, and he was from the future. He said
he came here through advanced time travel technology from the year
2173.
I'm glad I wasn't sitting down cause I would have fallen out of my
chair.
"Do you expect me to believe that? Do I look like an idiot? Other
dimwits might believe you, but not me," I stated defiantly, "Mr.
Smith?Ha?couldn't you come up with a better name than that?"
"The name is irrelevant," he replied, "We searched data banks from your
time period and found that name most popular. I chose it to show you
I'm a "Cool Guy!"
This was getting weird, "Names aren't something you choose," I
retorted, "You're born with them."
"Oh!" he stated blankly.
As I closed the door he stuck in his foot preventing it from shutting
completely, "AHA!" I declared, "You ARE a salesman!".
"I assure you, I'm not. May I enter your domicile? We have to
talk."
"Very well," I replied as I ushered him in, "I have to ask, Mr. Smith,
why did you say you're honored to make my acquaintance?"
He beamed another smile, "By George is quite a famous writer in my
time. Your words have inspired multitudes for generations."
"Are you sure you have the right house?"
"Oh, yes, quite sure. You have no way of knowing this, and I probably
shouldn't tell you, but?"
Suddenly I heard a series of beeps and he removed one of his shoes,
"Excuse me, I have a call."
"A shoe phone?" I asked as he began to talk into the heel.
"I'll explain later," he said as he motioned for me to be silent.
I was dumbfounded as I watched him carry on a conversation into his
shoe like Maxwell Smart. When the conversation ended he replaced the
shoe and asked where he'd left off.
"Forget where you left off, I want to know about that shoe?"
"It's a shoe phone! I forgot your people still use those primitive cell
phones, don't they?"
"Ha! You call OUR phones primitive?"
"Of course! History showed that you were always losing them, forgetting
them, dropping them?you never forget your shoes! Most of all, many
accidents were caused while using hand held phones. There's no way a
person is going to be able to take off their shoe and talk while
driving."
"Good point!" I replied shaking my head.
"Now then, where were we?"
"You were saying I was famous."
"Oh yes?"
He told me that in years to come my work would be appreciated,
publishers would print my books, movies would frequent the big screen,
newspapers would run my column, I would become a legend.
"Are you sure you have the right house?"
"Oh, yes?"
He told me I would eventually win the Pulitzer Prize. I had mixed
emotions when he divulged I would get it posthumously.
We experienced a brief moment of silence. I remember thinking that if
Mr. Smith was telling the truth, and I became famous, and Hollywood
decided to make a movie of my life?that moment would be an ideal time
for a commercial break.
"I see expressions of questioning and concern on your face. Those are
normal in these circumstances."
"I find this hard to comprehend? You say you're from the future. We see
that sort of Time Machine stuff in movies, but no one actually believes
it?"
"Those movies gave us the idea for the time machines. It took many
years to perfect before we achieved a reliable working model."
I was impressed but not convinced with his story. I had to ask a
serious question about the future and see how he responded.
"Alright, Mr. Smith?who's going to win the next Super Bowl?"
"How the hell do I know??that's ancient history! I don't have time for
that."
"Great Caesar's Ghost!" I said to myself, "That's exactly the way a man
from the future would answer such a question. A charlatan would belt
out any name knowing full well there was no way I could check it out
until it happened, but this man answered honestly. Or maybe he was just
very smart?
"If you don't have time for history, what are you doing here, in
history?" I asked.
"Our world is in danger!"
"Our world?"
"Yours and mine?one world, different times. I've come to ask you, and
others like you, to help all of us."
"Great Caesar's Ghost! I'm not going to have to battle a bunch of
cyborgs like Arnold Swas?swarti?Sarzenab?"
"I know who you mean," he said as he smiled again, "Nothing like that I
assure you!"
"Well then, what do I have to do?"
I'm glad I recorded his words because they were more unbelievable than
any sci-fi ever imagined.
The conversation turned rather technical with a lot of dates, figures,
case histories, etc. I will try to elaborate the main elements.
He told me the population in his time was reduced to slightly over a
million persons for the entire planet. The reason for the decline was
just discovered by their scientists who had been frantically searching
for answers.
They discovered the problem originated in my time period and was
effecting people even as we spoke. He said it started slowly and
progressed through decades to its present future state. Because of my
column, (which is supposed to eventually be read by billions), I was
chosen as a vessel to warn people.
"You mean all I have to do is write?"
"That's right?write!"
"I can do that!"
"Good!"
"So, what exactly do I write?"
"I'll tell you."
Now this is bizarre! I know you're not going to believe it, but this is
what he told me. I know millions do not read my column yet but I'm
going to tell those of you that do. So here goes?
Researchers from Mr. Smith's time identified an ailment that attacks
human brain cells. He said it is similar to a computer virus in that it
virtually wipes out a persons memory leaving them mindless.
"A computer virus?you gotta be kidding?"
"No, no! I said it was like a computer virus. That was just for
comparison of the end result. This affliction has nothing to do with
computers. A computer virus disables in an instant, this one acts
slowly. It tears away the mind in minute little bits. That is why it
was so hard to detect."
"This is bizarre!"
"Quite!" he replied. "We've labeled it, The Mind Melt. The effects have
been know for many years, however like your primitive cancer no one was
able to find a cause or cure."
"You found a cure for cancer?" I asked.
"Oh yes!"
"Whoa! Tell me what it is?"
"It will become known in due time."
"Tell me now!" I insisted, "This is big!"
"I wish I could, but you see, the distinguished fellow who found the
cure was actually my Great Great Grandfather. He became quite rich and
famous. Eventually he had a one-nighter with a science groupie who
later became my Great Great Grandmother. So you see, If I tell you,
history will be altered and I will in fact have never be born."
"So you're not going to tell me?"
"I'm afraid not!"
"You Bastard!"
"Not me, my Great Grandfather!"
We experienced another period of silence as I fumed over the knowledge
that lay before me out of reach.
"Forget about it, it will come, and you will be famous in other
ways."
"Yeah, right!"
"Let's get back on the subject. I said the effects have been well known
but a cause or cure could not be found."
"Did you find a cure for the Mind Melt? You can tell me that one,
right?"
"Unfortunately there is no cure. Once a brain has been wiped clean it
can never be restored."
"Well then what's this all about?"
"We found the cause of it."
"The cause?'
"Yes! We've identified the cause. It originated in your time period.
Your people can eliminate it and the Mind Melt will never happen?at
least to it's present state."
"You mean I can save millions of lives?"
"Billions!"
"And no one will ever know?"
"Not a soul!"
"Well, what's in it for me?"
"The satisfaction of knowing you saved the world."
"Yeah, that and a dollar will get me twenty minutes of long distance
telephone calls."
"I told you, you'll achieve fame in other ways," he said as his eyes
sparkled and he raised a finger, "Actually there is something in it for
you."
"What do you mean?"
"Remember I told you the Pulitzer Prize would be presented to you
posthumously?"
"Yes."
"That's because you became a victim of the Mind Melt. By eliminating it
you will be saving your own life."
"And I'll achieve fame in other ways?"
'Absolutely!"
"Ok, I'll do it!"
"Good! Here's what you need to know."
I was all ears!
Mr. Smith spoke in an authoritative voice that convinced me he knew
what he was talking about.
"There seems to be some sort of a mild low-level electrical charge that
radiates from light bulbs and penetrates the skull. In time it renders
brain cells useless. The brain functions normally, the body works
perfectly, but the memory diminishes in miniscule quantities."
All of a sudden I was convinced he didn't know what he was talking
about.
"Are you trying to tell me this is all caused by light bulbs?"
"Precisely!"
"Everybody has light bulbs!"
"Need I say more?"
"What do you expect us to do, use candles?"
"Yes! Destroy all light bulbs as quickly as possible!"
I stood up, walked to the door, looked out to the street and asked, "Am
I on Candid Camera?"
"I assure you, this is not a hoax."
"You're sitting there telling me that our minds are being wiped out
from light bulbs and you expect me to believe it?"
"That's it, destroy the light bulbs and the Mind Melts will
cease."
"That is outrageous! I'd be laughed out of town if I told a story like
that. The tabloid rags wouldn't even believe it?and frankly I don't
believe it!"
"All I can do is tell you and hope you warn others. We are contacting
many people in your time with hopes enough will be convinced to make a
difference. We know it's hard to believe."
"If you're so sure it's the light bulbs why don't you just break them
all yourselves?"
"We are spiritual visitors, like ghosts. We cannot physically alter
anything. We can only observe and advise."
"Now you're telling me you're a ghost?"
"Like a ghost."
"Well I'm not buying any of it! Ah, Look Mr. Smith, I have work to do.
I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. There's no way I'm
going to believe what you said, and there's no way I'm going to believe
you're from the future."
"Very well," he replied as he removed his shoe and began talking into
it.
"I guess I told him!" I proudly thought to myself.
Suddenly he was gone! Poof?vanished! Right before my eyes. I ran to the
chair he sat in only to find a burnt spot on the cushion.
"Damn!" I yelled, "Now I have to get a new chair! I thought they
couldn't alter anything?"
As I stared at the burnt cushion reality grabbed me like a cold hand.
He disappeared. He was there and in a flash he was gone! As I looked at
the scene it was as though I was frozen. My entire body was unable to
move. In the background I heard the Twilight Zone theme playing like a
sound track as my life once again paused for a commercial break.
That was several days ago. I'm better now. If he hadn't disappeared
right in front of me I never would have believed it?but he did.
As I sit here writing I'm delighted by the warm soft glow of a dozen
flickering candles. There are no light bulbs in my house. It will take
some getting used to but the savings on energy bills makes me wonder
why I didn't switch before. It is comforting to know that my mind is
sound.
For you my faithful readers, take heed. You have been warned. Whether
you believe it or not is up to you. Destroy your light bulbs if you
will, or keep them living dangerously. Regardless, follow my career. If
I become suddenly successful then you will know Mr. Smith was true. If
I win the Pulitzer Prize?You better break every damn light bulb you
ever encounter before you forget what I just told you!