Sep 20
28
In The Beginning (16)
SIX
I woke up with a start. It was totally dark and I didn’t know where I was. I fumbled around on the right side of the bed and found a nightstand and finally managed to find the switch at the base of the lamp. It was almost 6:30. It was 12:30 back in Ponte Vedra, Florida where the “group of twelve” lived and I had promised to call Darlene an hour and a half earlier. I remembered that I wanted to call Jeff and Roberta Barrett first, but that would have to wait now.
I stumbled, still half asleep into the kitchen where the printed instructions that included the codes necessary to make a long distance call were laying on the counter. Thus armed I took them back to the bedroom and sat on the bed preparing to make the call.
I changed my mind to make a quick check of my e-mail – the instruction card also explained how to turn on the wireless modem and the code I would need to tune my laptop to it.
My e-mail inbox was loaded with forty new messages …the last time I’d checked them was at LAX before boarding my flight to Honolulu this morning. It seemed a lifetime ago. I scanned them quickly …Darlene, Brad – what was he doing writing me, I mused, he wasn’t even supposed to be back at the house in Ponte Vedra until around 7:00 p.m. Florida time.
Wait a minute! I had things backwards – it was already past midnight there …good thing I checked!
I scanned through the rest of them …one each from Sid Wilmot and Al Edmund, the only other one I was interested in looking at right now was from Jeff Barrett:
Jeanne, just a quick note to tell you how excited Rob and I are about the possibility that you and maybe even Brad might be visiting! We’ve been following Brad’s writings ever since we stopped going to church …I suppose you are familiar with his website? www.spiritualhealingsource.com, anyway, please call or write when you get a chance! Jeff & Rob
“Slow down, Jeanne,” I thought …or was it Spirit telling me that? Oh my, I was so excited I needed some direction. I had thought that after I made a quick check of my e-mail that I’d call the Barretts. In fact that was the source of my excitement …what’s going on with that? I was reminded again that the meeting with Jeff on the plane was “ordained” and that something was brewing with that connection.
Okay, I said aloud, what should I do first? Then I knew …I was to call them AFTER reading the e-mail from Brad:
Well, Jeanne, here we go again into some uncharted waters. It’s 11:20 p.m. here and I thought I’d dash off a note to you before going to bed; we just finished our nightly ritual of the twelve + one (Daniel) of us gathering together to share. Will, Bob and Vic picked me up at the airport earlier, which was kind of a surprise, normally only Bob comes, but Will and Vic were too excited to wait to dump the news that I’m supposed to come to Hawaii for you to do an interview of me in person — the three of them met me at the gate. Jack had already given me a hint on the phone earlier, when I called from Toronto.
“Do we ever have news for you,” is what he had said. So help me, Jack is such a serious sort most of the time, he sounded as excited as a six year-old …but he refused to elaborate, putting me off by saying they would all surprise me when I got home. So, everybody is excited for me to come there; now then, do you have a plan?
b
I now had the clearance to call Jeff and Roberta. “This is Jeff,” he answered on the first ring. When he found out it was me, he told me to hold on and I heard him yell, “hey honey, pick up the phone, it’s Jeanne Stockwell.”
“Hi Jeanne,” Roberta said almost immediately, “I’m so glad you called, we can’t stop talking about the possibility of you coming for a visit …please say it is possible.”
I told them about the availability of free flight vouchers and my thoughts of wanting to come over even ahead of Brad’s coming unless he is willing to come right away …and I told them about his e-mail and time differential and how I’d gotten it backwards in my mind.
“Any chance you can do both? You know, since air travel will be free – come for two or three days now and then come again with Brad when he does come?” Jeff asked.
I asked them about their schedules which they said were wide open …I asked if I could call them right back with an answer.
______
Wide awake now – I asked, “What am I supposed to do?” It was like a plan had already been laid out for me. I knew exactly what I was to do …I was a little surprised. I was to e-mail Brad asking him to please arrange air travel to Kona to arrive early the following week and advise me by e-mail the flight details; I would pick him up at the airport and a comfortable place would be available for him to stay. I asked that he allow three weeks so that we could “fight our way” through another manuscript and discuss the details of a publishing contract.
I also asked him to apologize to Darlene that I hadn’t called, but some things had come up; and I didn’t elaborate further.
This was weird, because Brad and I had been instructed by Spirit, all those years ago, not to publish the first Leapfrog Manuscript, it was absolutely clear to me that we were now to publish both and incorporate them into a book. How can I be so overwhelmed and calm at the same time?
“Because it is in My hands.”
I was so excited – I hadn’t heard that voice in that way for so long …is this what happens just at the thought of writing an addition to Leapfrog? I was dancing around like an eighth grader with my hands in the air with unbridled excitement!
I picked up the “book” of instructions and called from the phone mounted on the wall next to the bed and called Auntie Em. It rang six or seven times and with a sinking feeling I thought she must have gone out… “Hello Jeanne …”
I stammered a quick, how did she know it was me? – She replied, with that enchanting sing-song and a smile that I felt rather than heard, “We all fixed up very modern here, Jeanne, just like you have on the Mainland, caller I.D. …did you get some rest?”
Finally past the pleasantries, I asked her about the flight vouchers and she told me they were good for one way only and for any flight for which the fare was under $100; there were several of those flights each day to choose from. She told me there was a flight schedule in the top drawer next to the stove with the 24 hour reservations numbers and that she’d be glad to drive me and pick me up. I cautiously asked her how many vouchers she had.
“Jean, there are more here than you could possibly use if you flew everyday for the next six months …you’re not planning that are you,” she said with a giggle. “Let me bring a book of twenty over to you right now …and whenever you decide you are going just let me know if you want me to drive you, but if not please just let me know when you are going so I can make up your hale [pronounced hah-lay …Hawaiian for house] while you’re gone.”
I told her I wanted to get familiar with the territory and thanked her for her offer to drive me, but I’d take the car.
This is so simple and easy I thought, sending a silent thank you to our SPIRIT-PARENT. I called the airline and booked the flight for late morning; then called Jeff and Roberta; “you won’t believe this, but you guys are going to have to pick me up at the airport around noon and I hope you can put up with me for a few days.”
Roberta acted ecstatic. She has a personality that made me feel immediately comfortable as if I have known her forever. I told her I was excited too and that I didn’t know what was ahead, but I had been comfortable about going ahead and booking the flight; I gave them the flight number. That was that! A knock on the back door and Auntie Em was there with my flight vouchers.
I told her I would be leaving in the morning and probably wouldn’t be back until sometime Saturday or Sunday.
She left quickly with a minimum of fuss, after telling me about the insurance card and registration packet that were in the glove compartment along with the 24 hour emergency numbers for towing or any car trouble.
My gratitude for how this was all so easy was coming over me in waves! I settled in to check the rest of my e-mail and decided to put it off until morning. I foraged around the kitchen and refrigerator and found a bottle of some kind of expensive-looking red wine, and found the cork screw – then I found a brand new two pound block of cheddar cheese in the fridge and an unopened box of crackers in the small, but jam-packed larder and I sat down to my fine dining and to muse. Again, this strange mixture of peace, overwhelm and gratitude settling over me.
The wine hit me hard and, realizing that I was exhausted, I quickly cleaned up the mess and headed back to the bedroom.
Setting the alarm on the little digital clock, with bright red-lighted numbers, on top of the bookcase headboard, for 6:00 …I figured I’d answer my e-mail in the morning, make some calls and just darn well relax for a couple hours until time to drive back to the airport.
I woke up rested and started stretching just as the alarm went off. There was barely a whisper of daylight. I quickly made up the bed, got dressed and began to explore. The place was huge. A large master bath was in the main bedroom which also had a large walk-in closet and a nice sized desk. There were two other smaller bedrooms both equipped with large flat screen televisions as well as a desk in each with computers with flat-screened monitors. I walked over to the big double sliding glass door and looked out at the swimming pool; venturing out I leaned over to stick my hand in the inviting crystal clear water – I decided to take a quick dip – it was just too, too perfect to pass up!
I looked around and saw that there were five, free-standing bungalows which were identical to the one I’d just come out of; all looking out to the kidney-shaped pool with a fountain and a miniature waterfall at the opposite end from where I was standing. There were round tables with large umbrellas and chaise lounges and chairs scattered neatly around the reddish brown tile that covered the patio surrounding the pool, bordered by more of the same neatly manicured flowering shrubs and trees, of the type I had seen when we first drove onto the property. There were also a number of small palm trees. It was all perfect! I’d call Sid Wilmot and tell him I wanted to work here forever!
With those thoughts I realized I needed to get busy answering my stacked up e-mail – I’d have to forego my swim until I returned from Honolulu.
What was rather thrilling to me was the publishing contract proposal from Al Edmund. Sid Wilmot’s e-mail was strictly personal …hoping I would take him seriously about using the flight vouchers for both Brad and me to get around the islands to truly absorb the beauty and magic that Hawaii has to offer. This from Al Edmund:
Hey, Jeanne! Sid told me he was going to also write, but more on a personal note. He insisted that I tell you in broad terms what he and I discussed related to the attached publishing contract proposal for about four hours this morning; Jeanne, I have to tell you that I’ve never known him to be this generous with any other writer. –Al
The attachment was conversational in tone …rather than an actual contract proposal. Basically, Destiny Publishing, which operated the magazine as a separate company, was offering a joint contract to Brad and me to develop the Leapfrog Manuscript into a two part book. We were to create a blueprint on how to develop other spiritual centers around the world as I had described to them that had been started in Jacksonville as a result of the first Leapfrog Manuscript. Destiny was offering a “standard” publishing contract to Brad and me as co-authors.
I had to stand up and walk around! Al wrote in the attachment that Sid wanted this book to happen; that he thought it was an important work for humanity and that he wanted to make sure we had all the support we needed. Sid was prepared to give us an advance of $50,000 each! Plus give us a year to write it with a negotiated monthly advance over the year and an expense allowance if we needed to travel to do research. All we would have to do is submit our travel plans for any trip with an itemized budget to Al by e-mail and he would e-mail back the approval. When the trip was completed, we had only to mail the receipts along with a request for reimbursement to him in Albuquerque and he would put a check in the mail.
Fortunately, as a freelance writer, I knew that publishing contracts were never “standard” and can be all over the place. I had been burned a couple of times, badly – what Destiny was offering was off-the-charts generous. I also had found out that even the best of agents tend to look out for their own interests. There was no guarantee of a fair publishing agreement. If anything this was more than merely a generous offer, it would forever spoil me. I was, again, overwhelmed with gratitude about how Spirit had planned everything.
With an eye on the time, I quickly wrote both Sid and Al a quick acknowledgement and thanks and that I was going to forward the offer to Brad with my recommendation that we accept.
“Is this the right thing to do” I asked Spirit …and felt, rather than “heard,” a huge yes!
Still nervously checking my watch, I dashed off a note to Brad saying that I got a “yes” to accept the contract, but I knew he was busy with other things and didn’t know if he was up for tearing himself away from business and the group to work with me for a year to co-author a book!
In Freedom,
Brad
Posted in Perspective by .
Sep 20
21
In The Beginning (15)
FIVE
The uneventful Hawaiian Air flight was over and I was at the back of the line waiting to get off the plane. All I had brought on board was my laptop and had kept it under the seat just in front of me; since it had been “open” seating I was now wondering why I hadn’t taken one of the empty seats closer to the front – instead of being stuck behind all these people gathering their things out of the overhead bins.
I was hopeful that Sid’s housekeeper was there to meet me as scheduled. I felt a slight twinge of panic as Sid had given me directions to get to the retreat, just a few miles south of the town of Captain Cook, but then the signals became a bit mixed because he told me she would be meeting me at the airport here and it dawned on me now that I didn’t remember her name, if he had even given me her name.
I followed the crowd of about ninety people toward the baggage carousels which are quaint little thatched huts …set in the elements outdoors. Picturesque, perhaps and it rarely rains here, but it did rain on occasion and it could be quite windy during a storm – that could prove to be a bit tough when picking up one’s bags… a thesis which later proved to be true when I got soaked during a downpour).
Sid and Al had warned me that on certain days the air would be loaded with haze from Kilauea, the volcano on the other side of the island, which had been “bubbling over” continuously for almost thirty years – and that the air was bad enough at times to be irritating to eyes and throat. They explained that the severity depended upon which way the wind was blowing. There would be days and even weeks when it was not even noticeable on the west side of the Island where I’d be staying, so they had assured me.
Today wasn’t one of those days – the air reminded me of the time when I had visited a friend in the foothills near Pasadena in Southern California right in the middle of an air quality alert announcement telling residents to stay indoors! I remembered it well and the memory wasn’t good. This was worse! There was a distinct smell of sulfur in the air and the sky was almost gray with the smoky haze of volcanic residue.
Still following the crowd and feeling a bit lost, I see an older, rather squat, heavy-set woman in a long, dark blue print dress, with white and yellow plumeria, Hawaiian dress, referred to as a mu’u-mu’u. She was holding a sign that had JEANNE STOCKWELL hand-printed on it. Very much relieved, I walked up to her saying, “Hi I’m Jeanne, and I’m embarrassed because I have forgotten your name.”
“No need for that, Jeanne, everyone calls me Auntie Em, welcome and aloha – let’s go get your luggage and we’ll put it right over there by the curb. You can sit on the bench there while I go get your car.”
She spoke with a sing-song accent that sounded almost on the verge of being “pidgin”, the kind of English in which many of the local islanders communicated when talking with one another. Her voice was soft with an almost melodic lilt to it. She later explained to me that her mother was a mixture of Filipino, Chinese, Portuguese and native Hawaiian and her father was a mixture of German and Norwegian, “I’m a real mongrel,” she told me with an infectious laugh.
Her husband of forty years had passed away two years before and she still lived in the same house they bought soon after their marriage. She had been born in Captain Cook, where we were headed and the only places she’d been “off-island” were Oahu (the island which Honolulu occupies) and Maui where a brother and two sisters lived.
Auntie Em and her husband had worked for Sid for over twenty years, she had told me, managing his various properties. He owned an apartment building in Kona and some rentals scattered around. Her husband, Ed, had supervised the maintenance and she had taken care of the books and collections, but since Ed had died Sid and she had worked it out so that she took care of what had been Ed’s responsibilities as well as her own. She was to tell me all of these things on the drive down to Captain Cook. I wondered if she would ever stop talking even though it was actually pleasant and I appreciated that it was helping me to get to know her.
It wasn’t long before they announced the luggage off my flight and the jitney pulling the carts loaded high with baggage drove up; the handlers began loading the bags onto the carousel. “Carousel” is actually a misnomer, because there is no movement. The handlers just place (“slam down” is a more descriptive term – the habit of baggage handlers the world over) the bags all around the station that looks like it should be turning, but is stationary.
Sitting on the bench waiting for Auntie Em to bring the car around, I was musing about what the next few weeks might bring. A surprising thought was running through my mind. I was anxious to get to Sid’s “retreat” so I could get on the phone. What surprised me was that I was more excited about calling Jeff and Roberta Barrett than anything else.
“Is this an important connection?” I asked Spirit… and immediately remembered Jeff and I laughing about my saying somberly that our getting together was “ordained” …and it was confirmed at this moment that it really was.
All of a sudden I began wondering if I wasn’t supposed to get together with them almost immediately. Sid had told me to get the housekeeper to give me some Hawaiian Airlines, inter-island flight vouchers that were already paid for and I could fly around to the different islands anytime I wanted. Besides, with the generous advance, I’d been given for the series of articles, I felt temporarily “rich” …I’m certainly not wealthy, but I’m fairly well off. I’m also a bit frugal and would normally think twice about getting on an airplane to hop over to Honolulu just to see Jeff and Roberta …now I didn’t think twice – I knew I would be going and probably soon.
I started to give myself a lecture about needing to get to work on the series and perhaps planning for Brad’s interview …but something was coming back to me from yesterday afternoon when Sid and Al were leaving my hotel. Good grief was that only yesterday? …what a whirlwind!
“Jeanne,” Sid had said, “take some time for yourself, Hawaii can be a beautiful and magical place, don’t miss the opportunity to enjoy it.” That is when he told me about the ample number of prepaid flight vouchers or “passes” …I was almost giddy with an exciting feeling of freedom that I don’t remember ever feeling before.
Well, I thought, if Jeff and Roberta Barrett seemed open to it, why not? My temporary employer was certainly encouraging it. Yes indeed, why not? …just then the White Lexus sedan, “my” car, pulled up and Auntie Em had already popped the trunk lid.
We took the “upper highway” because Auntie Em said it was more scenic that way and actually a bit faster because we avoided all the traffic on the lower road. She insisted that one day I needed to explore Highway 11 below – “many good things to see down there,” she said.
The views from the highway were spectacular. On one spot about half way there, straight ahead, just before a sharp curve to the left, there was a small embankment loaded solid with deep red poinsettias; every imaginable color of flowers along the way, tall trees with bright orange-colored blossoms, the splash of light blue of several large Jacaranda trees. Off to the right, as the highway took us ever higher, two thousand feet down, was the grandeur of the azure blue Pacific.
I was captivated; however the weariness of the last several days began to settle in over me. Had it not been for Auntie Em’s incessant conversation, I’m sure I would have fallen asleep.
We went past the famous Kona Coffee plantation at around the 3,000 ft. level – Auntie Em explained that coffee grows best at that elevation and that her husband had worked at the mill for several years, mainly doing upkeep on the variety of machinery, conveyor belts and other equipment, before they both went to work for Sid Wilmot.
We went through an area in which trees growing on either side of the twisting two lane highway grew into each other overhead conspiring to provide a dark tunnel – narrow shafts of sunlight filtered down to make it a mysterious interlude.
Then came the little settlement of Kealakekua made famous by the song that was going through my head; “Oh I want to go back to my little grass shack in Ke-ala-ke-kua Ha-wai-ee” …and there it was replete with sign, “The Little Grass Shack” …not a very impressive sight after all the beauty I had just seen, but interesting nonetheless.
Now we are going through Captain Cook and Auntie Em pointed out the supermarket on the left and assured me that if I needed anything she would be glad to pick it up for me, but said I’d probably want to do some of my own shopping and this was a place that “had everything and the prices were reasonable” both of which did, in fact, prove to be true.
I looked at my watch and it was after 4:30 already …my enthusiasm for anything but a nap was waning. I was feeling almost desperate to lie down for awhile. I asked her how much farther and was oh, so relieved to have her say “just a few minutes.”
About three miles after we left the edge of town she turned on the left turn indicator and I almost gasped to see the narrow road that angled off and looked like it almost went straight up, seemingly cut through thick, unruly vegetation that threatened to choke it off! It soon leveled somewhat and we angled off to the right onto another narrow road that came abruptly to an end at a metal gate that had a large sign saying it was private, KEEP OUT in red letters and a notice below that the property was protected by armed patrol.
Auntie Em reached out to a bracket on the dashboard just to the left of the glove compartment, containing two remote controls – she told me to remember the one on the left was for the gate and the one on the right was for the garage door. She pushed the button and the gate rolled steadily, but slowly to the right on its track.
Always remember, she instructed, to stop and close the gate after I had passed it in either direction.
“Is there really an armed guard around,” I asked cautiously.
“Oh no,” she said giggling, “Mr. Wilmot said to leave the sign up, but best we not tell anyone – but don’t worry, nobody has ever come around in twenty years unless invited.”
We drove another fifty feet and it was like coming into some kind of magical garden. Off to the left was a little white house surrounded by an expanse of beautifully manicured grass delightfully sprinkled with a variety of flowering shrubs and trees …she told me that the house was where the caretaker, Milton, lived who was off on Mondays and today happened to be over in Hilo on the other side of the island, I’d meet him soon, she told me.
Straight ahead was a very long, nicely finished single level building trimmed with used brick and a red tile roof which had five wider than normal garage doors – she pulled up to the one on the far right and pushed the button on the remote at the right.
Up the door glided and revealed an immaculate and orderly looking oversized garage. Auntie Em explained there were two other cars parked in the next garages to the left and if for any reason I wanted to use either, the keys were on the wall in the kitchen of where I’d be staying. She explained that the caretaker’s equipment took up all the space in the two garages to the far left.
“Come,” she said, as she got out of the car “…let me show you around quickly and then maybe you should rest for a bit, don’t you think?” she asked understandingly. I merely nodded.
Minutes later I was sprawled out on top of the King-sized bed, fully clothed, after just having kicked my shoes off, but not until after getting a brief orientation to everything; a list of phone numbers, including hers, a laminated, four page, 8½ by 11 inch manual constructed of thick paper with all kinds of instructions about everything; how to operate the telephones, the computer system, which was wireless so that I could also use my laptop; TVs, thermostat and some cautionary words about exposure to tropical sun when using the pool and so on.
I just wanted to go to sleep and was relieved when she finally left …assuring me that she would stay on the property, just a couple of minutes away, for the next day or so to make sure I didn’t need anything and pointed to her alternate phone number while she was here …and made me agree that I would call her if I needed anything.
Sep 20
15
In The Beginning (14)
FOUR
I had learned the hard way to be careful about discussing spiritual topics with anyone without “checking in” first.
I heard the strangest words in answer to my silent “prayer.”
“Now what the dickens does that mean,” I thought silently, but I knew it was not just “all right” …I was supposed to tell him.
“It is ordained.”
“Let’s see,” I started hesitantly, realizing that I had interrupted his reading with my outburst and I looked meaningfully at the book still open on his lap, “Do you want the short or the long version …my name is Jeanne Stockwell, by the way.”
“Jeff Barrett,” he said, taking my offered hand and gently shaking it, “I’m open – we have another two hours before we land – and I can read or we can talk, your choice – but I really am interested.”
I gave him the long version going all the way back to the beginning of my odyssey. I told him about getting the idea for writing a series of articles about alternative religious experience – and how I happened to meet a man the day I got the idea while sitting and having an iced tea at a resort over on the Big Island about twelve years ago.
“I told him,” I said, “that I was anxious to get back to my home in Oregon because I needed to get back to work. I told him about my idea – and he asked me if I had ever heard of a man by the name of Brad Cullen …”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Jeff almost exploded. I jerked in surprise. “I’m sorry, Jeanne,” putting his hand on my shoulder apologetically, “I thought your name rang a bell. This is unbelievable …both Roberta’s and my life were totally changed by Leapfrog. You’re the one that got all those e-mail addresses from that Canadian guy you met that day and started writing to a slew of people asking them what and how they felt about Brad Cullen. For crying out loud, do you want to hear our story?”
I laughed and mimicked his, “You’ve got to be kidding” …and, still giggling, said, “Besides, Jeff, it’s ordained.”
“Okay, wait a minute there’s a private little joke in there somewhere, with the ‘ordained’ bit, what’s going on?”
I told him lightly that I couldn’t resist the joke and about feeling hesitant about sharing the story with him and so had “checked in,” and then getting the “it is ordained” answer.
“Well, come to think of it, I’m almost positive that it is ordained, Jeanne, that I tell you our story. For years we had attended a little Pentecostal church over in Waimanalo on the back side of Oahu over the mountain from Honolulu …we live near there. A Japanese couple we knew quite well had invited us there and then, all of a sudden they just stopped coming to church.
“One Sunday after church the pastor caught up with us just as we were leaving and said something to the effect that it would be nice if we visited Jan and Walt because they had gotten all ‘fouled up,’ is the way he put it, and that they were closed to even talking to him. He knew that we were acquainted with the Hashimoto’s and that we should pray about paying them a visit and perhaps the Lord would lead us to helping them to get ‘straightened out.’
“So Roberta gave Jan a call and invited them over to dinner …and Jan insisted that it was our turn to come over to their place, we live only about fifteen minutes from one another.”
“After dinner we were sipping on a Japanese plum dessert wine and I finally got up the courage to ask how come we didn’t see them at church any more. Walt said something like, ‘we don’t think that way anymore.’ Frankly, Jeanne, I felt threatened, but Roberta, just as relaxed as can be, said: ‘A-ha, should we be thinking differently too?’
“Rather than talk about it,” Walt had replied, “how about we e-mail you something that started us on a new path …I’d give you a copy, but what the heck, you guys are richer than we are and if you don’t like it I’d hate to think you wasted our paper and ink.”
“It was all very light-hearted, Jeanne, and the subject got changed and we just visited for the rest of the evening with them. Jan and Roberta went into the kitchen and cleaned up the dinner things together and Walt and I talked about business. Walt grew up in Hawaii, but he still had close family ties in Japan and had been very helpful in my getting set up with contacts in both Japan and Taiwan. Walt and Jan are partners in a small chain of six grocery stores specializing in Japanese foods and imports …and are very well off.
“By now, you’ve guessed our story Jeanne, what they sent over was your Leapfrog Manuscript. This is so exciting. Please tell me you’ve got some time before going over to the Big Island. Roberta will kill me if I don’t invite you over …she’ll be meeting me at the airport.”
I had to tell him reluctantly that somebody was meeting me at the Kona airport and my connection to Hawaiian Air was barely legal – “so I have to hurry over to the other terminal, but please tell me the rest of the story …we’ll exchange e-mails and Brad is coming out from Jacksonville, so you can give me a rain check and maybe we’ll both come over, how does that sound?” He answered with an “unbelievable” and a slightly overwhelmed shaking of his head. We were both overwhelmed.
Jeff resumed the story – “on the way back home we talked about how we were both more comfortable with Jan and Walt than ever before. Rob, said that she thought we could actually become close friends. She asked me if Walt had said anything about the church and when I said no, she merely said that Jan didn’t say anything either and it was kind of strange because they had been much more heavily involved than we were.
“The e-mail was waiting for us when we got home and we decided to print out two copies then and there. We went to bed and both of us read it all the way through. We both finished about the same time. Jan said, ‘I don’t know about you, sweetie, but that’s a lot to chew on. I feel like getting on the phone, first thing in the morning and calling Walt and Jan and demanding they come over for dinner and a long talk.’ She did and they came over a couple nights later and we’ve been getting together fairly regularly ever since.
“We finally decided to do what you did Jeanne. It took awhile, but we were both determined and kept knocking and demanding until it happened …Roberta a few days before me.”
“What about church?” I asked.
“Walt made an interesting remark,” Jeff answered, “when I asked him why they had never gone back. He said they kept knocking and demanding just as you had done and both heard very clearly not to return to the church and not to share your paper with anybody without asking first. Jan had told Rob something similar over the phone when she had called her to talk about the Leapfrog Manuscript the next morning and had said they figured when we had first invited them over for dinner it was to ask about their absence …and they got the okay to share your paper with us if we asked about church and Jan told Rob that we did ask so they knew it was okay to send it to us.”
“So, in what ways has it changed your lives?”
“You know the answer to that one …we don’t do anything in business or in our personal lives without checking to make sure it is for our better good. Anytime we feel uncomfortable about anything we don’t try to figure it out …we ask and get direction. If we don’t feel clear we both knock and demand until we both get clarity and unity.”
I told Jeff about my trip to Jacksonville and all that had happened including the meeting with the group and we had an exciting conversation the rest of the way in to Honolulu International. Jeff checked his cell phone as soon as we got off the plane – there was a message that Roberta was running late. He talked me into waiting just a second while he called her before I rushed over to the Inter-Island Terminal … he dialed.
“Hey you, yeah I love you too, but listen quickly, guess who I met on the plane …the name Jeanne Stockwell ring any bells? Okay, listen …don’t park – come right to the curb outside baggage claim and I’ll be waiting outside for you – have I got bunches to tell you. Yeah, yeah, the trip was very successful, but it’s the last two hours I want to talk to you about. You’ll be blown away. Listen, Jeanne has to run to get her connection …just keep thinking about the name Jeanne Stockwell and see if it registers… yep, love you too, bye.”
He turned to me and said with a chuckle, “she didn’t have a clue.” He grabbed my hand into both of his, and said, “Listen, you had better promise me that we will all get together and soon, promise?”
“It is ordained,” I said solemnly, with a deep voice and managing to keep a straight face, until he burst out laughing and I joined him. He handed me his card which had his home phone and e-mail address on it. I promised to call the next day or so when I knew clearly what the plan was and told him to tell Roberta I couldn’t wait to meet her. With that we hurried off our separate ways.
In Freedom,
Brad
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