My long and disastrous relationship with Dora had taught me to always be on the lookout for subliminal influences, that is, mind control in all its various forms, from overt, brain-blinding, delusional spells to the sweet and slight persuasive whispers that achieve their ends after the one-hundredth whisper. I might even be considered paranoid in this one trait, at least abnormally distrustful. It's the only thing that can explain the little test that I devised concerning Sarah, my love mate, days before our two week stop transpired.
Being totally idle, I took a long walk one afternoon far from the campus and after finding pen and paper in a store I scribbled out a tiny plan to leave her for a month, to rethink our relationship. I folded up the slip and parked it in my cigarette pack, where I'd be sure to find it the next morning. I wanted time to review everything, some parts of her that disturbed me, her longing for power and control over the droids and possibly myself, images of Dora constantly recurring.
So at dinner I mentioned my intent in the kindest light possible, that I was bored but didn't want to interrupt her own work. So I'd go camping in the hills for a few weeks giving her more time before our planned departure down the coast. We both had our headsets on and were in telepathic communion, far richer and more intimate than the words we exchanged. She was so happy with her continuing progress here that she readily agreed, whatever kept me happy made her happy. She'd miss me and implored me to stay safe, take all our rifles and guns since she had no need of them with an army of three hundred droids under her command and everyday more ready and eager to carry out her every whim at the snap of her finger. We both looked forward to continuing our search for Dora. Such were the civilities we exchanged, blind to the real blows fate had in mind for us.
I had devised this proposal as a simple test of whether she was already controlling me. If she could control my thoughts, she would have to keep me close and tethered to her leash and if I suggested I should run free range for a while she would erase all such thoughts from my head, from that night and forever. Thus the note I'd be sure to find the next day and the last sentence on it, "if you don't remember this plan you're screwed".
But we ended up on what seemed a perfectly amicable note, made love that night and the next morning I loaded up the rear of the truck with all our weapons, finding the note as I enjoyed my first smoke and burning it with a second match fully convinced I was control free. I even unsnapped my headband off at that point and tossed it on the floor, thank God, of the passenger seat and left it there the entire journey. Such a seemingly trivial gesture of freedom proved in the following days to be the preservation of it.
I stopped at the first Bass Pro and loaded up on camping gear, fishing gear, and a few hunting rifles. The guns that we'd brought with us were more 'Dora' oriented, high caliber metal piercing weapons, including two RPG's, which I'd practiced on several times with Ted, having a large stockpile of missiles. We both agreed that Dora and her minions would stand no chance against these small rockets, however thick their titanium skin.
The Appalachians contain wonderful scenery. By late afternoon I was deep in the Tuscarora state forest, surrounded by trees and campsites and small, winding roads, reminiscent of my long years in the woods, and which I thought of, as I sipped a cup of coffee by my campfire, as the happiest days of my life, alone. The days that came after were filled with far too many concerns over others whom I met by chance, many of whom I would hardly befriend in any normal life, except Ted of course. I had my doubts about Sarah, my love for her, our ages a decade apart and our personalities seemingly opposites. All this negative reflection made me wonder whether or not I was having some sort of mid-life crisis. I decided 'no'. I was too young for that. I just needed time alone, free from responsibilities, as that was such a large part of my past, my formation, my character. I unrolled my sleeping bag and slept soundly, with pleasant dreams that surpassed the wildest hopes of avarice.
