Saving the World Read Online Free PDF

his daughter were killed by a drunk driver.”
    Bryant felt his stomach surging up the stale sandwiches to his throat. His heart pounded while his mind raced. He had studied the neurological phenomena of telepathy in college. It was widely known to be a myth.
    When Margo looked up at him she was glossy-eyed. “That’s why I was crying, Doc. I could feel your pain from across the room.”
    Bryant wiped his moist eyes with his shirt sleeve. “But how?”
    “I’m clairvoyant.”
    “But . . .” he swallowed. It wasn’t possible, yet there she was crawling inside his head. Bringing up images that he was so careful to bury.
    Margo rubbed his back. “It’s true, Doc. This is no myth.”
    He took deep breaths to steady himself, while Margo tried to console him. With a dry tongue, he said, “You really are—”
    “Yes,” she said. “I really am.”
    Bryant took a deep breath.
    A grey cat appeared in the pew and approached Margo. She curled her body around Margo’s leg.
    “Is that your cat?” he asked.
    “No.”
    Bryant had to work at keeping his heart rate stable.
    Just then, the lights flickered in the church.
    “Aliens?” Bryant said without thinking.
    “No,” Margo said. “That wasn’t aliens. There aren’t any around tonight.”
    Bryant looked at her with raised eyebrows.
    “Because,” she said, looking at the cat maneuvering between her legs. “I can hear them too.”

Chapter 6
    “You can hear aliens?” Bryant said in a hush, watching Father Joe bend over to pick up imaginary lint from the carpet in front of the altar.
    Margo looked down and began folding the tissue on her lap again, first in half, then quarters. “Yeah.”
    “These aliens,” Bryant said, “where do you see them?”
    Margo wouldn’t look up, her hands busy on her lap. “See that’s the problem. I can’t see them. They’re invisible.”
    That stopped him. He sat upright in the pew and regained his psychiatric footing like a boxer hearing the bell ring. “Invisible?”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    Invisible aliens. Her words were linked together in such a way, he knew deep down they meant more than their contextual surface. Bryant could tell more from words and body language than a team of specialists could learn from a series of laboratory tests. It was simply a matter of finding their origin, the reason for their existence. No one ever spoke a word without a source, either from hatred, or regret, or capricious jealousy. It was his one great skill in life. Finding the source of spoken words.
    “Why do you suppose they chose to speak with you?” he asked.
    Her tiny frame shifted uncomfortably while her hands fidgeted with the tissues. “I guess because I’m the only one who can hear them. Actually I can’t tell if they’re speaking or just thinking.”
    Margo’s head was down, her hands still busy. Telltale signs of an internal struggle. Something wasn’t right.
    “I know, I know, it’s confusing,” she said. “A moment ago you believed me, but now you’re thinking I’m psychotic.”
    “Now, listen. I—”
    “Oh, you’re already searching your memory for the textbook diagnosis.”
    “Wait a minute, you—”
    “And if you think I’m psychotic, what possible hope could I have with anyone else?”
    Bryant held up his hand like a crossing guard. “Stop.”
    Margo waited.
    He ran his hand through his hair and let out a breath. “If we’re going to continue this conversation, you have to promise me one thing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You have to promise to stay out of my head,” he said. “I can’t think straight with an audience in there.”
    Margo half-smiled. “Okay.”
    Bryant looked over at the fragile girl with the skinny legs and the ponytail and wondered where to start. It was like scraping together a sand castle at low tide. Eventually anything he did for her would be washed away once the tide of discomfort rolled back in. There just wasn’t the time.
    “Why did you come to see me in the first