The Gifted

John Wilcock has just awakened, and he is standing on the front porch of his dormitory. His brown hair is wet from the shower, and his blue eyes are barely open. He is dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt with socks and tennis shoes.

Suddenly, the front door opens and out walks John’s friend, Carrie Brooks, from Rutland, Vermont. The early morning sun glistens off her long blond hair and blue eyes.

"Hi John!" She flashes him a warm smile. "Ready for the big test today?"

John reluctantly returns a smile. "How come you’re always Cheerful? asks John.

"I guess I just am! So, are you ready?"

"Yeah, I suppose I’m ready, but something bothers me bothers me about this place."

"I was apprehensive, too, when I first arrived here, but that soon passed," says Carrie. "I sense that you’re uneasy about something."

John nods his head in agreement. He hesitates a second to respond.

He looks out to the courtyard of Vermont Institute of Parapsychology in Montpelier, Vermont. The green foliage dots the landscape as the morning sun warms his face and shoulders.

John takes a deep breath and says, "Why are they having this test? Is it to watch us do pet tricks for their amusement?"

"What kind of a question is that? You act as if the Institute is trying to hurt us or use us for some diabolical means."

"Don’t tell me you don’t sense the government’s role in all of this."

"Are you telling me the government would use us for some evil purpose?" She turns her hands, palm up. "Yes, the government is behind the Institute, but to hurt others? I can’t see it. This is the United States of America, not Russia or China."

"Look at the facts!" John insists. "The students here come from all over the world. They have psychic gifts like you and me. You scored the highest on the telepathy and the Microcalorimeter tests, plus the other exams. You are considered the best psychic. And yet, you’re still here, and so are the others!"

John sits down on the porch cement railing. He gestures to Carrie to do the same, and she does.

"I was the highest until you came, and you blew me right out of the water." She shrugs. "And besides, I can leave whenever I want to! I’ve done only one thing for the government since I’ve been here. I did some work for the FBI, and I crack a case involving a serial killer in the New England area, and that is a good thing. We can do good things for people, and I think we should."

"Don’t get me wrong," says John, heaving a sigh. "I believe in helping others, but I also see us being like the group of men working as a team to developed a chain Nuclear Reaction at Los Alamos, New Mexico.

Openheimer’s team thought they were doing a good thing, but they were used to develop a deadlier bomb!"

Carrie’s eyes widened. "You are paranoid! No one can make you do anything. You are too goodhearted to harm others. Just relax, and enjoy the experience."

Suddenly, they hear a faint, but increasingly loud, noise. John and Carrie see a platoon of cadets from the Norwich University marching up the huge hill on which the Institute sits. The Master Sergeant shouts out to the platoon, "Hut one, two, three! Hut one, two, and three!"

They march by the dormitory, but the Master Sergeant stops marching momentarily. He stares right at John and Carrie.