MIND OVER MADDI

       Twenty-seven-year-old Maddi Colter had known for some time that she was psychic. She first discovered this talent in high school; a time when, she surmised, young bodies and minds seemed to be at war with each other, each seeking its own place in life.

               Maddi’s mind was quick, while she struggled with a body which simply could not catch up. Her mind raced toward the future while her body still had not discovered the curves and grace of womanhood. Maddi often jokingly referred to the problem as “mind over Maddi”. But only to herself.

               Though there was little she could do about her body, she embraced the idea of knowing things others around her didn’t know. It gave her a sense of pride and self-worth that her body could never provide. And keeping it a secret only made her feel that much stronger.

               She practiced her newfound ability the way an athlete would practice for a championship game. She watched Wheel of Fortune for hours at a time until she knew without trying exactly where the wheel would stop. She found this particular talent somewhat handy in a game of chance she once played at a local carnival – taking care, of course, to lose from time to time.

               Seeing upcoming events was both a joy and a challenge. Keeping a happy secret and acting surprised at birth announcements and engagements was always lots of fun. But she saw some tragic events, and that was stressful. She tried to change the course of upcoming tragedies. Sometimes, she tried suddenly asking the subject to be somewhere else at the time of the predicted event. Sometimes it worked; but in the long run, she discovered that altering the future was often impossible.

               She discovered that, while she could not actually “read” minds, she was somewhat of an empath. She could look at friends or sometimes even strangers and feel their feelings. And upon meeting new people, she often knew at first glance what kind of person he or she was.

               That was how she met John. She was at a party, saw him across the room, and was drawn immediately to the kindness and gentleness emanating from him. Though she had never dreamed she would ever be able to do so, she walked up to him and introduced herself. When he asked her out, she knew it was safe. And when, six short months later, he asked her to marry him, she said yes without hesitation. That was seven years ago and she had never regretted it. But she also had never told him her secret.

               Now she lay in her living room on the hospital bed that had replaced the sofa since the accident. How many times had she seen the wreck before it happened? How many times had she rounded the curve on that deserted stretch of road and seen the headlights on her side? How many times had she heard the shattering glass and felt the impact of the air bag hitting her in the chest? How many times had she been warned? More times than she cared to admit. Why had she ignored the warnings? She knew these were legitimate psychic flashes. There was a feeling that came over her at those times – a thrill when the news was good, and a stomach-dropping, bone-chilling dread when it was bad.

               Why, then, had she taken that route home that night? Looking back, she supposed her thinking was somewhat akin to a person who suspects she has cancer but refuses to go to the doctor, believing in some twisted way that if the doctor doesn’t confirm it, it couldn’t be real. But it was real. The useless legs were real. The numbness below her waist was real. And what was more important at this particular moment, the pain above her waist was all too real. It was time for her pain pill. Past time. John had been an amazing caregiver, and it had been his idea to keep her medicines out of her reach. It was not that he didn’t trust her. It was just that when one is bedridden and in pain, she tends to lose track of time. He wanted to make sure she didn’t accidentally overdose. So he kept them on the coffee table, always giving them to her right on time.

               Except that it was time now. And he was late. And she felt every passing moment of his lateness. The traffic jam was not his fault. But, damn it, she needed her pills. And they sat on the coffee table, taunting her.

               With all of her psychic talents, telekinesis – the ability to move things simply by thinking about them – had been both her most coveted and her most elusive. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a good dose of that right now!

               “Come on, pills!” she thought desperately. “I need you!” She knew they weren’t coming to her. But she couldn’t give up. She needed those pills.

               “Focus, Maddi. Focus on the pills. Nothing matters but the pills. Be one with the pills. Deep breath. Concentrate.”

               She broke into a cold sweat. A sudden shock of pain wracked her body. She wanted to quit. She wanted to cry. She wanted to die.

               “Stop it, Maddi!” she chided. “You’re stronger than that. It’s one little bottle of pills! Don’t let it beat you!”

               She took a few calming breaths. She stared at the bottle. Put all of her being into the task at hand. And the bottle began to vibrate. Raised an inch above the table. Started moving slowly toward her. The pain and the exertion were nearly unbearable. She reached out, and suddenly they were in her hand.

               She knew she would have to return them before John got home, and that she would have to pray that he didn’t count them, but she could deal with that later. Right now, stopping the pain was all that mattered.

               The return trip was not nearly as difficult as getting them had been, and she knew that she had gained a new ability.

               In the days and weeks that followed, she practiced her new craft as diligently as she had the others. Soon she was moving cups, glasses, cushions, anything, almost without thinking. She was always careful to put everything back in place before John got home.

               For a while, her new pursuit helped take her mind off of her condition. Then one afternoon as she lay looking out the tiny window across the room at the dark clouds rolling in with not a threat but a promise of an oncoming storm, her thoughts turned as dark as the stormy sky. What was to become of her? Was she destined to view the rest of her life through that little window, forevermore on the outside looking in, trapped inside a Maddi-sized prison made of flesh and broken bone? The thought was unbearable. No. She couldn’t live that way. Without thinking, she called a cushion across the room.

               As she caught it, a thought hit her so hard she almost felt the actual impact. She was telekinetic. She could move things with her mind. Her legs were things! Why not? She knew it would not be easy. She vividly remembered her battle with the pill bottle. But she had won that one, and every other one after that.

               She gathered every bit of psychic energy she had into one deep breath. Exhaled slowly, putting all of her focus on her legs. She inhaled again, never blinking, willing her legs to move. Nothing.

               “Okay, Maddi. Laser focus. Concentrate on one leg. One leg, one small movement.”

               She stared at her left leg, trying to get even a small twitch from it.

               Ten minutes later, she was sweating profusely and dizzy from her efforts. She gathered her mental strength again and focused on her left leg.

 Wait. Was that a tingle? She knew she should rest, but that tiny ray of hope ignited a spark in her. Once again, she put all of her inner self into focusing on that leg. And it moved. Only an inch, but damn it, it moved. She closed her eyes, totally exhausted. She had a long way to go, but she had broken that barrier. Over the coming weeks, she knew, it would get easier. And it did. In time, she could move her legs at will. Then came the test – the biggest test of her life.

She watched the clock. John would be home at 5:15. At 5:10, she started doing deep breathing exercises, forcing herself to stay calm. At 5:12 she started focusing on her legs. Five fourteen, gather all of her psychic strength. Calm now. Don’t lose it.

For the first time in months her feet touched the floor. Her heart was ready to burst. In the next few seconds, she would either succeed or fail, either way in epic fashion – and in front of John.

It was hard to keep her focus knowing that her life was about to change dramatically. She forced her legs to straighten. She was standing!

“Keep it together, Maddi.”

She heard his footsteps in the hall. Deep breath. The doorknob turned. Focus. And he was there in the doorway, his mouth hanging open and his own knees buckling.

“Sit down, John,” she said serenely. “There are some things you need to know about me.”