The Intuitive. {Reality with fiction}
A head shop was opening in Dundalk. A highly anticipated happening.
June 25, 1969
I was squatting on the tarp to create more swirls at the bottom of the wall, mindful to not drip paint on the baseboard. Alexander was to the right of me, painting his section, taking broad strokes in paisley designs.
“Jann, I had a dream this would happen.” I glanced up and laughed as his once white t-shirt was splattered in fluorescent pink, orange, red, green and blue paint. I nodded—no need to ask him to continue, I knew he would.
And he did—37 minutes later I knew his dream was that a man would walk into the center of the park, the large one across from the elementary school. Several of us were sitting on the ground under the hemlock tree, passing a joint. As the stranger got closer, someone whispered, “narc alert” and bodies moved at warp speed to escape.
Five of us not up to speed and with our backs to the approaching stranger, sat stoned on the grass. Pun intended. Luckily, this was to our advantage since this stranger came to recruit teen artists to paint the newly acquired empty store. A small, dingy rectangular building nestled between the Strand movie theater and ironically the police station.
It looked out over the small park next to the red brick library. A park where some brave, or rather foolish folks would daringly roll joints and light up peering over at the police station. Cop alert radar on high.
June 25, 2023
My phone rang and I saw a name I had not seen in a long time. Since my concrete block stucco building does not allow good signals, I answered and said wait for me to go outside. No time for shoes, sneakers take too long, I exited the building sans shoes, sunglasses, and hat and stepped out into the pretty park at high noon on an 89 degree summer day.
Silly me—this was Alexander on the other end, his “five minutes Jann” would never happen. Fifty-eight minutes later, sweat pouring down my face, underarms soaked and t-shirt drenched I interjected his dialogue. “Alexander, I am dripping, but I am fascinated with your events over the recent years. But, I need to get inside.” Eleven minutes later I was able to greet the air conditioned apartment after a promise to consider some or all his stories to write for Elephant Journal. I was fascinated with all of them, but one stood out and here it is.
His phone call that day was to say he is an intuitive, a gene he shares with his now late mom and some aunts. Apparently not an uncommon trait in some Greeks.
In Alexander’s words:
Jann, I am having visions and dreams that come true! I had flown to Greece on a turbulent flight that encountered too many delays and arrived at the hotel tired and drained.
I fell fast asleep not even taking off my clothes nor showering the grime off my body. I was in town to meet with a real estate attorney to settle the deed on a house I had inherited from my father. I wanted to gift it to my daughter on her upcoming graduation from the university.
The dream was vivid. I was walking past the town to take a trail around a valley and to see the mountain in the distance. The trail was uneven terrain in spots and flanked by tall and small trees of various species. I could hear an owl and spotted a large bird, hawk most likely. The valley to my left was lush with lavender and heather and smelled like an expensive perfume. The colors were vivid. As I walked, I spotted something shiny. As I drew closer and leaned over, I realized it was a gold bracelet and the sun peeking through the leaves on the oak tree had added the glint that caught my eye.
I reached down to cradle it in my left hand and saw the broken clasp. Had it slid off some fair lady’s slim wrist and went unnoticed since it had landed in the soft leaf covered spot? Had she been walking with her lover on a gorgeous day that was interrupted when he cruelly told her he was leaving her for another? Did she tear it off at his announcement to leave it behind as a goodbye?
I gently pocketed it and knew I would take it home to my wife, Cristina. After all, our daughter was getting the house in the valley in Greece.
He took a breath and continued.
I kept walking the trail and spotted another human ahead, a male. Not wanting to spook him as I approached, I called out a hello. And a gentleman turned to nod to me. He said, “Alexander?”
Startled I replied yes but could not make out any recognizable memory of someone I apparently knew. He sensed my confusion and said he was Edmund, but I knew him as Ed. He spoke of all the local bands that played around Dundalk, back in the day. Then neurons connected and I remembered he was two years ahead of me and we only knew one another from the music events.
I was shocked when he reached inside his left coat inside pocket to hand me a cassette tape. He had recorded as many bands as he could and was giving them away. This one was for me.
And Jann. Here’s the whopper—the next day I headed out to see the attorney, fresh and eager and this all came true.
Alexander, have you been smoking weed? He staunchly responded no, those days were left behind a long time ago.
And that my friends is one of Alexander’s stories of seeing visions that come to reality.