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Natural Telepaths University

Chapter TM5, Truth Marriages Reconstruction Presentations
 

Ignorance no more, explain that which has been hidden from the beginning From the Natural Telepaths own version of the Gospels.

 

"There is this little spoken about Jewish tradition. Has to do with a daughter going on a first more serious date with a young man, may we see some instances of this please?"

And so began the next presentation. A Jewish woman among them asked this of Helen and Sara, if they could cast some images, recalls, of this situation.  Reluctantly, both Helen and Sara agreed. Reluctantly because this was very personal information, in a way it was felt so personal it equated to asking to see a person naked.

By this time, after three weeks of almost continually presenting the "true" (or "hypothetical") life of Darth and Helen and his family, the group was non the wiser if what was being shown in their minds was "truth" as in actual ordinary life of Darth and Helen and family, or still a "hypothetical" life using strong telepathy and virtual reality.

The group had grown, with perhaps a thousand men and women online and aware and assisting. About half way Jewish men and women of faith. The object was to be positive how a true and proper Truth Marriage might have worked before the Holocaust. Helen and Darth were the proper Truth Marriage in this generation, but they did not know exactly how the "ground level", the lowest steps, were supposed to work. In this regard there were really two possibilities. Either the two agreed to meet in ordinary for like a weekend of love in ordinary life, or there was no such need at all. The general feeling was that in the end God alone, working in the couple, would make this decision for them (regardless of the personal preference of the couple concerned). This, however, was impossible to prove outright unless more and more images from the past came their way, and the twenty psychics so skilled in sensing into such images could reconstruct as much of "truth" as they could.

"Before we start", a younger Jewish girl (about twenty) stood and turned to table with the twenty or so psychics, none of which were Jews, "on behalf of this Jewish community, our Life in the Spirit, can I just thank you for your kindness in assisting. This can not be that easy."

She sat down. One of the psychics turned to her and flowed, "I personally don't mind. Not only it is interesting, it actually helps me to accept God in my life...I am not particularly religious in anyway...or at least I wasn't...of late I had this almost a compelling urge when not in telepathy mode, to find a church I might enjoy attending now and then."

"Ah", a Rabbi at the front wiping his glasses flowed, "in which case, from my point of view, this is most useful."

"And highly embarrassing to me and Sara in particular", Helen smiled as she walked to the front then clapped her hands and explained. "All right...how this first date came about...we will use a slightly different technique...instead of projecting many many images to convey to you the background, sometimes we will use strong recalls which you will see as part of our life...sorry", she turned to the Rabbi, "I am obligated to use the word 'hypothetical life" until the "truth" is clear. Anyway, sometimes we will use strong recalls, some from me, some from Sara, whatever, and sometimes just a narrative will flow with the background explanation. All right, are we ready? On with the show."

The imagery began strong. Helen in her small study looking at some personal web pages she maintained, and some emails she received. Her personal interest was some poetry and short stories she wrote and kept on the web page, but she also liked to speculate about various religions and so on. To Darth's surprise, her page was quite popular and regularly someone wrote in with a religious type question.

Now, their house was large, very. It had six very large bedrooms but also some smaller rooms (but "small" in this case was probably still much larger than the average size bedroom in an Australian house). It had two huge living rooms, one which the usual room they used with the plasma television and the large balcony with the ocean views, the other on the other side of the house and rarely used. Besides these, it also had four smaller rooms. Darth had set up his office in a large room, a bedroom, at the end of the house. Helen felt the smaller (relatively speaking, this was a large house) "study" room was more comfortable for her use. This too was at the end of the house but on the side facing the large hill into which the house had been built in. The views from the back window were nice, tranquil, but rather short as the dominant hill was what was mainly seen.

As the imagery flowed Darth is in his office. Helen comes in with a paper sheet in her hand. She sits down. Her eyes focus on a doll like model. It was in one piece. This was her biggest headache. It was an exact and precise model of the human body but made of possibly thousands of small pieces all neatly fitting together, some pieces so small a special instrument had to be used to put them in place. Darth usually used it to help him understand the disease process in particular of some rarer cancers ad tumour. Most Mondays she would go through the house and clean everything. The doll was horrror to put together when its parts lay scattered on his desk. And Darth's study was often a mess! Research papers everywhere, on the bed, on the floor - once she found one stuck to the ceiling! That was the only time her curiosity got the better of her and she asked when he returned how and why did he stick a page on the ceiling - only to receive some impossible to understand clinical explanation about certain eye conditions and how the ceiling was the perfect distance away..."never mind, I am not going to ask again", she said at the time putting her hands up as if surrendering.

As Helen, in the imagery, came in and sat on the edge of the bed, Darth was sitting on the edge holding that particular anatomical doll. Suddenly he threw it away to the side and into the air - Helen screamed "ah!", and reached with both hands to catch the doll before it came apart into who knows how many pieces. "Don't do that", she said with relief as she caught it in one piece, "takes me over an hour sometimes to put this idiotic thing together."

"You don't have to", Darth replied, "I can find the pieces as I need them."

"No", Helen shook her head, stood, put the doll in a place it was meant to stand, and sat closer to him, "I can't help myself...I see that thing in pieces, I feel like throwing it away but I know I wouldn't cause that would hurt you so much - but I can't help myself and I need to put it back together before the ridiculously small pieces drive me mad. Listen", she leant her arm on his shoulder, a piece of paper in her other hand. "I have this email....a readers asks, is God an alien?"

"Eh", Darth turned and picked some research papers, adjusted his reading glasses, focused on the page, as he replied off the cuff, "alien implies strange, weird...it could be a trick question...I wouldn't waste my time wondering about."

"You are right", Helen said and squashed the paper and neatly tossed into the rubbish bin. She pushed him back on the bed, moved her head over his. "Uhm, I have been delaying this...Sara is going on her first date tonight...and...and...don't get angry now..anytime I explain another Jewish tradition you loose your cool..you know...you remarks...what is it with Jews and there myriad of traditions and so on."

"Don't tell me", Darth sighed as he caressed her back, "what it is? What could it possibly do with Sara and her date? And those new reading glasses...wow...sexy!"

"The movie got to you, did it?", Helen touched his face with a finger.

"She was sexy!", Darth mused.

What had happened was something different. A doctor wrote to Darth asking about a certain diagnosis his medical software made. Most doctors, but there were not many, who purchased Darth's software were so impressed they tended to use it almost on a daily basis, and most were kind enough when they saw a failure of the software to come up with a particular medical condition as part of the short list, to let him know and often include attachments of relevant research papers that could be found on Internet. It was one of these emails that led to a sequence of events.

They were out shopping in a major centre. The town they lived in was mainly a tourist town and for very wealthy people who chose to retire. It was large enough, with a population of about 10,000, but the major centre was about an hour away. This is where they came to do some more serious shopping. They were in one of the malls. Lisa had been looking for a particular brand of jeans. She rushed into a jean shop. Sara remained outside sitting on a seat with Adam happily licking an ice-cream. Helen had desired new wedding rings and she and Darth walked over to a Jewelry and were looking at the window display. Helen saw another shop, a "wedding shop", with a display of rings, walked to Sara and whispered, "we will be just in that other shop".

They walked to it. In passing Darth noticed a shop in one of the dark passageways. Stopped, paused, quick as a flash grabbed HElen's hand and walked quickly into that shop. Helen turned red! It was an adult shop! She was speechless and embarrassed beyond anything she could imagine. She was stuck for words. Darth scanned the shelves very quickly and found an area in the corner with movies. Helen had close her eyes, some of the images on the covers were so explicit she felt like vomiting. He put on his glasses, picked up a few, then exclaimed, "perfect! This one is perfect". He grabbed Helen's hand again, moved to the counter, put down the DVD cover and his credit card. Helen grabbed that as quickly as she could and took out her wallet and took out the money. Outside, when out of the dark aisle, she pushed him against the wall.

Pressing against him, touching his hair, the look in her eyes was not one any man would want to see. But her flow delicate, "sweetheart...if we have a problem in our sex life..we talk it over...whatever did you want that for! And do you have any idea how I felt! And wanting to pay with a credit card! You want the whole word to know you bought such a disgusting movie?"

"Oh, sorry, I did not think", Darth began but Helen replied rather harshly but still softly, "yes, you did not think...what is this about?"

"This rare medical condition", Darth replied, "if it exists...these two.."

"Shut up", Helen put her finger in his lips, "I don't but this but this is not the place...when we get home we will get to the bottom of this...if it is our sex life, we will work it out."

"No, its not that", Darth protested but Helen said softly "enough" and gave him a kiss. "Let's go into the wedding shop and get tow new rings so we can throw the old ones in the bin." She put her hand through his arm. They went into the wedding shop. The girl at the counter presented a box of wedding rings. Darth, or rather Helen, decided on the two she wanted. Both fitted in a lovely way. They bought them.

They were coming back to where Sara was when Lisa, forgetting herself, rushed out of the shop holding a pair of jeans, "mum, these are the ones I want". She stopped, horrified, because suddenly an alarm burst out, it sound horrible, and suddenly a larger than life shop security guard is rushing out to Lisa.

"Sorry", Lisa turned red, "I forgot...wanted to show my mum."

"Let's go back inside", Darth said and the three went inside. Lisa handed the girl at the counter the pair of jeans saying, "they are the one ones but not my size."

"We do have a range of sizes", the girl smiled.

"You have to buy them...once out of the shop it is stealing unless purchased. That is the law", the big - ever so big! - security guard now watching them like a hawk growled.

"No problem, we will buy them", Darth replied to the girl.

"Dad, they are not my size", Lisa protested.

"Does not matter, you go and find your size", Darth replied.

A few minutes later Lisa had put on and like the jeans, and both parcels were wrapped. The girl at the counter was trying to say that it was all right, Darth did not have to buy the other jeans - but Darth insisted. Helen glanced at Sara sitting outside, her hand on her mouth, she trying to stop herself laughing at the whole situation.

They were walking back to the car. Lisa checked which were her "jeans", then handed the other ones to Darth with a "not happy" look on her face, "dad, you bought them, you wear them. I am not putting them in my cupboard."

"That's fine", Darth took the parcel and as they were passing a charity bin he lifted the lid and promptly tossed them inside.

"I think you are in trouble with Lisa", Sara mused as she, holding Adam's hand, came closer. "Lisa is not happy with you wasting money like that."

"Oh, he is in trouble, all right", Helen turned to Sara, "but leave that to me dear."

The imagery changed to when they came home. Helen asked Sara to start making lunch, and she took Darth's hand and led him into the master bedroom and closed the door. She sat him down, clambered onto the bed, on her knees came closer, put her hands around his head, giving him a kiss, a gentle soft flow, "sweetheart...just tell me the truth...what was the idea of purchasing that gross movie?"

"It is a medical reason...", Darth began. Helen, clearly not believing him, gave him a long kiss, touched up his hair, said firmly, "dear, I am going to get you to explain this to me properly, clinically, even if it takes me weeks to digest this...but until I know the truth, we are not having sex at all...understand? If you feel we have a problem with our sex life, that's all right, we will work through it, but if this is...is...a big lie you are telling me...sorry...I will not accept my husband purchasing movies like that."

"No, it has to do..", Darth began. Helen clambered off the bed, took his hand, "come on, your office, your explain this to me in such a way that I am inclined to believe you...it is bizarre what you are saying! For medical reasons!"

She led him into his office. Sat herself down on the bed. By this time Darth was annoyed with Helen, and put on this professional manner, "yes, all right, should have left you outside and told you beforehand...but did not think of that until I saw that shop...anyway...let me explain."

Darth reached for the small doll. Helen reached as fast as she could, "no, don't you are touch that one, use the bigger doll."

Darth reached for the larger version. It was accurate but only had major organs to put together, not more than thirty or so pieces in total. "Right", Darth took out the brain, "this is the human brain...it is in fact two brains", Darth pulled the two cerebral hemispheres apart, "joined by a band of white tissue known as the corpus callosum. The two brain communicate with one another using this tissue."

Darth turned to his desk, searched and searched until he found just what he was looking for, opened up a large picture and clipped into onto his whiteboard. "Now", he pointed with a pencil to the brain", in some rare cases a person with epilepsy of seizures, which are uncontrolled electrical activity, needs an operation that cuts, that severs, the corpus callosum. This is not a good thing to do, but the alternative is massive damage to the brain caused by such seizures."

Darth paused, searched in his desk again. Helen was never sure how he usually managed to find whatever it was he was looking for reasonably quickly - to her the draws were full of "rubbish". He took out another poster, opened it up, pinned it to the board. He pointed to various faces on the board. "Now, these are images, or studies, of people who had that operation. Notice the exaggerated facial expressions? This happens because without the corpus callosum, each split brain nevertheless tries to communicate with the other brain using facial or body gestures. Body gestures are something both brains area aware of. Now."

"Stop", Helen put her hands up, "I believe you...but", her tone changed to a softer tone, "you aroused my cyuriousity..what has this to do with prostitutes?"

"Well", Darth began but Helen sensed his tone was one still "defensive" and she got up, put a finger to his lips, used a soft flow, "no, not that tone. I said I believe you, I trust you, that you had a reason. I am just curious, talk to me like to a woman you love, not like a lawyer or judge."

"Well", Darth relaxed and picked up two research papers on this bed and sat down next to Helen. "This clinical team in Germany, and a different one in Canada, has done lots of work with former prostitutes who often are porno movie stars. They began by trying to understand psychiatric damage such work does over a long time...then they noticed something peculiar, something in the way they talked suggested damage to the corpus callosum."

"I don't get it", Helen reached for the small ever so precise doll and poked in various places, "I can imagine what porno movies are about without ever seeing onces...what do women in these do? They let men with these ridiculously long erect dicks stick them in the mouth, vagina, the anal passage. Time after time I guess. I can see how these are damaged...but the brain?"

"That's true", Darth said, "but short of carefully removing the brain and studying the corpus callosum under a microscope, there is not way to trace such damage. Sure, they could keep the names and later when each one dies, an autopsy could be organized and the brain examined, but there is not enough reason for a court to allow this, and even if they did, no one knows what the damage is or how it might be traced."

"All right, I am sorry about my outburst", Helen said softly, "but I did have a right...what if someone saw us going in there?...how humiliating!"

"All right, my mistake, should have done this on my own without you getting involved", Darth replied.

"Well", Helen stood up and took out the DVD in her handbag, "we will both watch it tonight, in the bedroom, I will move the small television with the built-in DVD from Sara's room."

The imagery faded. Back to the lecture room. A few younger women objected, "please...as medically interesting as that was to some of our medicos and scientists, please, Sara's first date is what this was supposed to be about."

"Sorry", Helen stood up, "I got so annoyed that time...when I tried to recall some easy images this just came flooding. In that movie this particular...actress...I use that word loosely...had these pair of glasses on which for some reason Darth found so sexy...then when I had to renew my reading glasses subscription I chose frames which, without thinking, were so similar...and the reason in one of these images Darth took such an interest in me with those glasses...never mind...all right, on with the show."

"Please, if I may", an army Chaplain among them stood, "before we see this...personal...moment between Darth and Sara, I am guessing that is what it would be, if this tradition you mentioned is used, what does "truth" mean in this context? What we are seeing is a life, a life of a family. Why do you call it a "hypothetical"? It is clear to me, whether that is ordinary life as in real-life, or a life in the spirit, or a life in some telepathic dimension of wonder, it is still "truth" what we are seeing. No one can invent or imagine those sorts of absolutely realistic interactions between a family."

The Chaplain sat down. There was a deep poignant pause. What was said made sense.

Helen glanced at the two "head Rabbis" at the front. They looked at one another in a manner suggesting the two totally agreed with the Chaplain, but also shook their head in a way suggesting to Helen not to clarify anything personally but continue with the recalls the group wanted to see.

The strong, ever so strong, mental imagery began again. Helen began the recall that had not completed. She in his office with Darth.

"Don't tell me", Darth sighed as he caressed her back, "what it is? What could it possibly do with Sara and her date? And those new reading glasses...wow...sexy!"

"The movie got to you, did it?", Helen touched his face with a finger.

"She was sexy!", Darth mused.

"All right, just this once, I will wear them", she said softly as she put her lips to his.

The imagery altered, changes, as if Helen trying to block the next sequence but not quite managing, and in a fainter image Helen's head, Darth on top to the side, she flowing in a most deep tone like a woman completely satisfied and content, "no, stay there".

Then the imagery changed to the stronger one. Helen brushing her hair in Darth's office, letting it hand down as she brushed it. "Tonight, love, please don't make fun of me and this tradition", Helen saying to Darth putting on a shirt as he sat on the edge of the bed, "you need to give Sara a hint, a subtle hint, however you want, what...don't laugh...and she is not like that...what...well...type of sex you would allow her...that means kissing really I think but it is up to you."

"Eh?", Darth used that rather "am I slow or something?" tone he often used when he heard about as yet another so-called Jewish tradition.

"Don't argue", Helen came closer, "just do, work it out, however subtle you want to be...I have to go and pick up the children...I promised them I will today because Adam has to go to a dentist and you know Lisa, would not dream of letting her brother facing this ordeal with her waiting to soothe him when he comes out, and while this is taking place Sara wants to check out this restaurant for this date."

Helen left. Darth sitting on the bed, clearly bamboozled. He stands walks, imagined he is talking to Sara. He imagines he is putting his arm around her shoulder and saying, "if you need to have sex, its all right".

"Bah!", Darth throws his hands up and sits down, mumbling "this is bloody ridiculous!"

However, he was starting to think this was ever so important to Sara and her mother, and he better else Sara would spend days in a certain mood that was so irritating to him, she without words making him feel ever so guilty if he had not done something right by her. It was that last thought that made him focus more on what in such a situation he actually would "consent to". He started to give this some serious thought.

The imagery changed. Sara in that most expensive dress of hers rushing between the balcony, sometimes the dress has such a wide sweep she disturbs Adam's building kit from which he is making a structure. Lisa quickly helps him to repair any damage the dress caused.

"Simon said he was going to pick me up", Sara said excitedly, "I can't work out how...he doesn't have a driver's license...he is only a year older than me."

"How did you meet him?", Helen began to grate a potato.

"Last school dance", Sara was talking quickly, "its a bit weird...he goes to a State School and our School only allows Catholic boys from (name) to come. But, and no one knows how exactly, there is a thriving black market and somehow some State school boys seems to get tickets. So we met then, he sat next to me, introduced himself, told me his name and asked me for a dance. That was when these slow waltzes began and no one nowadays likes them much, so the floor only had those couples who...who...uhm..whatever....anyway...I accepted. Then, only last weekend, dad drove me to the local shop because I needed some....oh, you know...and yours I don't like...when I was coming out of the Chemist I bumped into him, we started talking, and before I know it he asks me out to dinner and I said yes."

Sara, imagining she hears something outside, rushes back to the balcony, once more so fast and so close to Adam's structure a part of it falls off. "Stop doing that Sara", Adam complains as he and Lisa pick up the fallen pieces.

Darth is on his way from his office to the bedroom.

"Dad, dad", Sara flies to him and spins around before him, "how do I look?"

"Delicious!", Darth replied and walks to the kitchen.

Sara likes that compliment and goes into the kitchen. "Mum, dad said I look delicious."

It was the look Helen gave Sara than made Sara blush, glanced at Darth, at Helen, then she grabbed her mother's hand and rushed off with her to Darth's office. She sat down, covered her head, Helen sat near her. Sara trying to fathom this but unable to actually say it in words, "did that mean what I think it meant?", she turns to Helen, both as red as beet root from the embarrassment of the situation.

"Yes", Helen admitted reluctantly.

"How dare he!", Sara jumps up and paces about, "you know what that means! He is giving me permission to...to...to", Sara sat down, unable to verbalize the implied suggestion.

"Never mind", Sara got up and walked back and forth, "never mind....what do I care! Stupid tradition."

"No", Helen stood up and quickly closed the door when Sara tried to open it, "your father said you look delicious..he said nothing about your boyfriend."

"He is not my boyfriend", Sara replied firmly as she opened the door, "just a casual date...and I am so embarrassed now."

Then Sara thought she heard something and rushed through the truly long corridor back to the main room and onto the balcony.

"Wow!", she clapped and jumped in delight, "mum, dad, come and look at this but don't be seen."

Puzzled, Helen and Darth walked to the balcony and discretely peered out. It was now Sunset. Up the street they could see a horse drawn carriage, luxurious open carriage, and a young man dressed like what a boy in the 18th Century might have worn.

"Wow!", Helen leant against Darth as the two peered discretely, "you were never that clever dear."

"I like him already", Darth smiled, "what is his name?"

"Simon".

Darth heard Lisa's voice and turned to see Lisa and Adam also discretely parting the white curtain and peeking.

The carriage parked outside. A young man jumped out and with a small present came to the door. Sara opened it, "hi", she smiled.

"For you, but open it later, after our date", the young man handed Sara the small neatly wrapped present.

Sara took his hand, brought him to Darth and Helen. "My mother and father...eh...second father but that's a long story...mum, keep this for me."

"Nice to meet you", Darth took the young man's hand.

"All right", Sara clapped her hands, "let's go then, so looking forward to the ride."

They walked outside, together, and Sara clambered aboard. The carriage drove off.

"Simon", Sara said as she turned to wave to Lisa and Adam standing at the balcony waving to her, "why are you dressed like that? You look like a...I don't know...bucaneer...know..a German shepherd...no...I don't know but I might be embarrassed being with you in that elegant restaurant you said we would go to."

"My dad's idea", Simon glanced at his costume and took of the wide cap with a feather, "I think its traditional Bavarian or something...could not talk dad or mum out of this and I had no choice...else dad would not have paid for this horse and carriage...I will change before we go on, I have my shirt and trousers and there are public toilets in that square."

"How much did it cost?", Sara asked looking at the most impressive horse and carriage.

"I don' know", Simon said, "but it would have cost a lot. We have it for three hours. Those wealthy tourists use this, not the locals."

"But we are going the wrong way!", Sara pointed out, shaking her finger to the front.

"I know, but I am not sure how to turn this easily on this narrow road. This silly horse hardly listens to my togs at the reins, seems to make his own decisions what to do when we come to a cross road", Simon replied, "so I figured we take the longer road."

"I see, I don't mind", Sara moved closer then became a touch anxious, "Simon, I need to get something of my chest...bloody embarrassing but I can't keep it in anymore...stop this here...let's just walk to those rocks."

They walked along the beach, Sara took of her red sandals, to some rocks. It was low tide and Sara leant against the rock, only to quickly jump back and try to see if her dress was dirty where she had briefly leant against the rock, "shit...is that wet or dirty? What is my behind like?"

"Nice", Simon was holding the wide Bavarian hat in his hand, "sorry, I mean, I don't see any sand or grit."

Sara gave him a glance, then began to pace and use her hands in an animated way, "Simon...please don't tell this to anyone...please...but I have to get this off my chest...it is embarrassing...but it is getting to me, what my father said. You know how I am a Jew cause I explained this to you before I actually came tonight...well...this is sick or childish in my book...but...there is this Jewish tradition...so my mother tells me and how the hell do I check that, too embarrassing a question to ask another Jewish mother...the tradition is that when a girl goes on her first more important date...the father is supposed to give his daughter a hint, in a subtle way, as to what...what...well...sexual type activity...he would give consent for."

"Really?", Simon became a touch nervous then walked to the boulder, leant against it, and explained without looking into Sara's eyes, he nervously toying with the edges of the hat in his hands. "I have this older sister. We get along great. She and I have this slight...eczema...I think that is what its called...now and then I get this rash on my neck, so does she. Since we were small we used to massage one another in the area when it came. Anyway, one night we we sitting together watching the television. This girlie movie, American, heavy sex culture among their youth, and I wanted to swap the channel. Eli, that's my sister, suddenly moves closer, puts her head on my leg, looks at me, asks if I was a virgin."

Simon paused. Now Sara looked positively embarrassed and lowered her gaze.

"Anyway", Simon used this soft male tone, "I explained about the eczema because me and she still do that...if the rash comes...she just puts her head on my leg, or I on her leg except I am no longer so comfortable with that if she is wearing a short dress or her leg is exposed, and I or she massage the rash. Well, I don't know, I shook my head, you know, saying I was still a virgin. She takes a deep breath, turns, says sadly "I am not", then turns to me and says, "take your time, I wish I still was."

Perhaps it was what Simon said that gave Sara the courage to look into his eyes and say, "oh yeah? You think that is tough...well, this father of mine said to me in this subtle way when I asked him how I looked in this dress tonight, that I looked declicious...then it hit me!...that was the permission...and then I dragged my mother to a room and demanded to know if I understood this correctly...except I could not bring myself to use the words.....the words....oral sex!...there I said it."

Simon lowered his eyes, turned his head aside. The look on his face a delicate one - he was clearly nervous with this but also tantalized in some way. A look perhaps Sara, somehow, understood. She took a deep breath, leant on the rock against him, said matter of fact, "I think that sort of thing is disgusting...anyway...my bloody mother then pointed out, because I was pressuring her, that dad said I look delicious, nothing about you."

"This is not the sort of thing I want to talk about on a first date", Simon said.

"Me neither", Sara stood and made him stand and put her hand on his upper arm, "so let's go for this ride. I love it! I just had to get this off my chest."

As they walked back on the sand Sara said, "I tell a lie in a way...my mother with her traditions also told me I have to give the boy a hint...hint!...what sort of hint could I give in that situation! I am sure this ancient tradition comes from an era in which a sensual kiss among the singles was considered heavy sex."

They climbed aboard. It was now dark but the Ocean road had spectacular and majestic colorful lights. The ride lovely. The sea breeze divine - soft, caressing.

"What if this horse...you know...poops?", Sara suddenly asked.

"I got instructions about that", Simon explained, "there is a shovel and bag at the back. Council law says I have to clean it up. Or you if you want."

"In your dreams!", Sara snapped.

"Apparently", Simon continued as he struggled with the horse who was refusing to turn into the street Simon wanted the beast to turn, "its only if he gets scared...he is already...eh...relieved....but a sudden horn or car screeching might cause his bowels to move again."

Eventually they made it to the place they were heading. Must have taken a good hour. The horse slow, sometimes refusing to turn into some streets, at one point he turned into the exact opposite direction adding more time to their slow ride. Neither Simon or Sara actually minded. They were talking about school, subjects. A nice feeling flowed between them.

The imagery faded. The lecture theatre returned. Sara stood up and took the centre, imagined a microphone. "This next section let me skip and just explain. We arrived at the restaurant. It was a heavy restaurant. What I mean is. Where we live in Australia down the coast..."

An ever vigilant young Jewish man at the front suddenly yelled, "no, no, Sara, where you hypothetically live."

"Mum!", Sara, not certain how to word that, turned toward Helen.

"Just go on as you were", Helen shrugged.

"Anyway", Sara continued, "this sea resort town is for tourists, very wealthy, mostly Japanese and American tourists, and for people very affluent. This restaurant, so the rumour was, had a $500 price tag just to reserve a table. Top location, the best, sure, but $500! Dad in fact does have an account with them. Has to do with those business loan deals. That was supposed to be his side-line but it turned out a full-time mission. Some of his clients preferred dad never sees their actual residence, instead paid for that restaurant as a meeting place. Something to do with Australian Tax laws and dad was legally obliged to note on an application for a business refinance loan many details which, if he knew these, might cause a problem for the client with the Tax office - as I understand this, but ask dad, I am no expert, but most of these types of loans, because of their size, the actuall loan documents eventually had to also be faxed to the Tax office. Anyway, only once did dad ever pay for this restaurant in person. This was when he took mum out. Now, I wanted to know if this rumour was true before the date, but mum refused to tell me, insisting that because I had agreed and Simon made the plans, I ought not worry about money. All right, I tried, but then...the moment we walk in...and I had this...I still feel ever so guilty about that...that $5000 dress on...well...the waiters there must have been experts cause the moment one saw me in that dress, he comes over, put a hand over the reservation book that the person at the desk was looking at, and escorts us to what probably was the best table with the most incredible night views! I heard a low voice when the man returnde to the desk, saying to the man at the desk, "relocate that booking...say we made a mistake." That's how it sometimes is with me or Lisa or mum, because many know dad and where he lives and what he does. That did not altogether surprise me."

Sara paused. Then continued as she flashed some mental images but most of her explanations were word flows. "Anyway, I did have a lovely night. After mum stayed up and she listened to me how excited and lovely it was and all that. But, at the actual restaurant, I did make a blunder. Simon asked if I also wanted some champagne. I don't know, and mum does not let me drink yet and maybe that is the reason I said yes. Simon looked concerned, so I grabbed the drink menu from him. I noticed there were lots of champagne options but no prices. Being most excited really, I was having a lovely time in truth, and the waiter saw me look cause he was right at my heels when I took it from Simon...which was interesting cause when Simon had it in his hands open the waiter did not blink or try to come closer...the moment I grabbed it, he was by my side quicker, I swear, than Superman could do that. Anyway, I decided to order one, not really having any idea what good champagne costs. I later found it, because Simon asked but by then the bottle was opened and chilled and the two glasses poured, it had cost $2000! I panicked, rushed to the balcony, grabbed my mobile, called dad...I wasn't going to mention this to mum!...and told him what happened. Dad was fine, told me to charge the whole thing to his account and got the number of that account. It was mum who later gave me hell over that."

Sara paused. Lisa flowed to Sara in a soft musing flow, "tell them what that "hell" bit meant, bet you are too embarrassed."

"Shut up", Sara flowed back to Lisa and was about to continue...but she was blocked by Jewish "mothers" who were pleading with Helen to reveal this to them.

"Shit!", Sara muttered, "do I have to", to Helen who nodded. Sara turned red, then said, "look...there is something about my mother...even dad is terrified of her when she is in a certain mood...all right...I will show you what happened...and my mother had never hit me with a belt in her life but that time it was close...but truly, while I will show you what happened, its not because I am only young - if mum did the same to dad he would not move either."

The mental imagery returned. Sara was in her room at her desk doing some school work. Helen walked in with a bank statement. She sat down, looking at Sara.

"What mum?", Sara turned to Helen.

"That restaurant on your date", Helen said, "uhm...wasn't Simon to pay for that."

"Well", Sara put her pen down and come and sat down on the bed, "yes, sure, in truth, but...I made a mistake...called dad up...he just told me to put the whole thing on his account."

"$3000 dollars for a dinner out?", Helen threw the statement into Sara's lap.

"Well", Sara picked it up, but by now she was clearly nervous, "it was like this...you see..."

"No", Helen said most firmly, "no...I do not see...I do not want your explanation", her voice stone cold. Helen stood up and turned, and Sara could see Helen undoing the narrow leather belt around this particular skirt.

"Mum!", Sara glared, "don't be stupid...this..."

"Shut up", Helen leant and put a finger on Sara's lips. "You lay down...stomach down...Lisa and Adam are at the beach with yoru father...the house is empty...you can scream all you like...I will not have this."

"Mum", Sara stood up.

"Just do", Helen replied most sternly.

It was the way Helen said it, the way she stood, that made Sara not resist or argue in anyway. Sara laid down on her stomach and closed her eyes very tight and clenched her fists. She waited. A few moments later she heard Helen sit down. "No, I am not going to do this...but it is a warning to you...until you are eighteen, no way, you behave as a sixteen year old...next time a mishap like this...you will get a thrashing, a very very hard hitting thrashing...if your father objects, he will get one too."

Sara sat up, she in tears by now even though Helen had not used the belt. "Sorry mum", Sara leant against Helen, "it was...I wasn't thinking...the whole thing just went over my head."

The imagery faded. Sara at the front with eyes lowered. Helen flowed to Sara, "no, dear, there is a lot you missed there", the Helen explained to the audience, "we had a...strong...talking to...I had made up my mind...if in any way whatsoever I sensed any pride, any arrogance, any selfishness, any desire to do something like that again, she was going to feel that belt over and over until she screamed but understood. Now, let us just wind this up because there was a saga at the other end...with Simone...let me recall this."

The imagery came back to that strong ever so life-like (ordinary life) imagery. A woman and Simon coming in when Helen opened the door. They walk to the main house. Sara sitting meekly in a chair. Helen asks Maria and Simon to sit down and Helen sits down near Sara herself.

"I wanted to show you this, Maria", Helen tossed the bank statement to Maria who had to lean and reach for it as it went on the floor. Maria read it, looked up, then said, "if only my husband made a fraction of your income...perhaps this would not hurt so much...but...we had to pay an additional $20,000 that night."

"What?", Sara looked up.

"Tell them why, love?", Marie glanced at Simon.

"That horse, Sara", Simon explained mainly to Sara, "it did not want to return to the stables...I even called my father so he came and we both tried to get back on time...dad has this family tradition..he comes from wealth...not your class from what I gather mum just said but still wealth."

Simon paused. He could see Helen cover her face with her hands, shaking her head, saying to herself, "no, no, no way, one of wealthiest families around is calling us more wealthy and they not even in our wealth class...I don't believe this."

"Am I exaggerating?", Marie passed the bank statement to Simon, "you know your father's figures, he trusts your mathematics."

Simon had a look then grimaced, "no, my father can't maintain that sort of income, this is beyond him."

Helen stood and walked to the balcony, looking at the view. She closed her eyes, not quite understanding this at all. She returned, sat down, "go on, Simon, what happened?"

"Well, I will tell you", Marie barged in with an explanation, "I was there to wait for Simon. The stables are outside of town...the smell I think, the council will not let them anywhere near the town. Well, and I almost screamed at this what I thought was absolute nonsense...when Simon and his father returned, finally, it was two hours past the return date. The stables insisted on a $30,000 late payment fee.  I think I screamed "what!". The manager showed me a signed statement which my husband had signed, and Simon also signed, that if the carriage is not returned by the time specificed, a late payment will be charged of $30,000. Apparently, some eccentric American movie stars had arranged for a midnight wedding and the carriage. They paid that much for it. The palace, as I call it, where they are staying is that billionaire retreat on the largest hill..you know the one. Anyway, because the horse had to get ready, and its old, and their two younger horses had picked up some virus and were not allowed to do anything for seven more days, this old horse, so the manager explained, after he was cleaned, fed, would never make it up the hill in time. There was also a complication in that, and this is where the truth hit home, they had arranged for a Blacksmith to put new...shoes...whatever they are called....because the ones the horse had were to slippery, as the manager explained, to grip on a very steep part of that climb."

"Heavens!", Helen threw her hands up, "whatever happened when a boy and girl on a first date went to the beach, bought themselves some hamburgers and coke...this had cost", she looked at Sara who covered her eyes and shook her head, "$33,000 dollars. All right, but now, Simon, or Sara, can you explain to me this $3000 bill? I know, you said the champagne was about $2000. The table fee $500. The actual meal $200. So where is the extra $300?"

"I can explain", Simon replied, "I was with dad in person when we made the reservation. This restaurant includes a "tip". Mostly wealthy Americans. Americans expect to "tip". So this erstaurant takes the pressue of all its customers and just writes the tip in."

"A $300 tip", Helen said coldly and smiled, "some hookers don't get that much I am sure. Some trick."

"Can I just talk to you", Marie asked Helen to step outside. The two women set off for the beach. "Helen, I don't know you...my impression of Sara is she is lovely and nice...like you maybe...but...we have just spent $33,000 on a first date for our teenagers. Why not make some use of this?"

Helen smiled, considering, "I understand...my husband took to Simon...the horse carriage he thought was inventive and lovely...and he liked Simon's tone and the way he spoke. I know Sara enjoyed herself immensely."

"I know Simon did", Marie smiled, "as reluctant as young man are to talk such matters over, over days I managed to get at the truth. Why don't we..encourage...not too often just yet...some more dates?"

"All right, but let's keep this...subtle", Helen agreed, "and I have no idea how the hell I am going to explain this to my husband."