ON BEING PSYCHIC PART II

I have a friend named George who knows I’m psychic and he phoned me to ask if I knew what had happened to a certain man (no name was given) who’d walked out of his house and had been missing ever since. I instantly knew he was dead – I saw him in a body of water, lying with his face pointed down at the river bed, and his clothing had become trapped (I think he was wearing dungarees)on some underwater roots of nearby trees. I urged George NOT to pass this information on to the family – I could be wrong – for all I knew, he might’ve toddled off with his secretary and was living happily in Toronto or something. George agreed, but he directed the police to search nearby bodies of water, and they found him in the Ottawa River, clothing having snagged on underwater roots.

One day out of the blue, I received a phone call from a man I’ll call Dan. He’d heard about me through other sources (never did find out which) and told me his brother, Rene (not his real name) had been missing for 14 days, and they were desperate. The first words out of his mouth were “I must warn you that I’m a complete skeptic and don’t believe in psychics, but at this point I’ll try anything.” I assured him that was perfectly alright, most people feel the same way, but that I’d do my best to help.

This brother Rene, was a military man and was under investigation, facing a possible court martial, for having accepted free airplane tickets from some dubious source or other, for himself and his family to go to the Bahamas. It was assumed that because of this disgrace facing him, he’d done the bunk and fled. Extensive searches had been carried out for him at bus depots, car rental agencies and the airport, yielding nothing.

“Dan,” I said, “Your brother got up at 5.00 a.m. in the morning to go out for his customary jog. He wore a dark blue fleece running suit and carefully pinned his front door keys to his top. He took nothing with him – no money, no credit cards. Tied up his shoes and went off running along the Rideau Canal.” I paused. “He lives near the canal doesn’t he? On Cooper Street or thereabouts?” There was a pause.

“I didn’t tell any of this information to the cops or the newspapers,” he said.

“That’s good,” I replied. “It means I’m on the right track.”

“Please go on, what happened next?”

“I’m not sure if he had a head injury, or something of that nature, but I do know he’s wandering around in a state of confusion. Due to his military training, he’s in survival mode, sleeping in ditches, covering himself up with leaves to keep warm. He’s also been raiding the skips behind restaurants, scrounging food.”

“So he’s not dead?” Dan asked.

I hesitated, not wanting to give him false hope. “I don’t think so Dan, but I could be wrong – this is not an exact science and I’d hate to mislead you.”

The next day Dan phoned again, asking if I’d been able to gather any further information. “No Dan,I see him as still alive, and struggling with starvation and hypothermia. It’s still bloody cold here in May, as you know, and all he has on is that jogging suit.”

I woke up on day 16 of Rene’s disappearance and immediately phoned Dan. “Dan, he’s in water now – either the Rideau Canal or the Rideau River.”

“Is he still alive?” Dan asked desperately.

“I don’t know, but if he is, he’s very close to death.”

On my say so only, the family urged authorities to empty the Rideau Canal which was done, but his body wasn’t there. Hours later they found him, floundering in the Rideau River, very close to death. The water in the river was freezing cold in May, and he was instantly taken to the Civic Hospital where he spent the next 3 months, while they struggled to save his feet. As far as I know, they were successful.

The day he was found I got a phone call from a very grateful Dan, saying “You weren’t far wrong on anything you said. You made a believer out of me.”

I didn’t ask the particulars of what had caused Rene to become disoriented and confused, but Dan told me that everything else I’d said about him lying in ditches at night, covering himself with leaves had happened and so was the fact he’d scrounged food. He didn’t volunteer to tell me how Rene ended up in the Rideau River and I didn’t ask.

My job was done, and I didn’t need to learn all the facts about the case.

I don’t believe Rene was court martialled – I think in view of the terrible experiences he’d had, maybe the military had a heart after all, and decided to drop the charges. I don’t remember reading anything to the effect that it had gone to military court.