Professor Ben

2 05 2013

One of our Clubs favourite members is a bloke by the name of Professor Ben Sutton, Who is completely Human.

His connection to us began in the 70’s when He was a Uni student and a friend of his fronted up to him over unusual personal… Well, you understand. Now Ben was just the right person to go to, as he rarely lost his head over anything, and He probably saved the life of the person who, eventually founded our Club just a few years later.

While Ben isn’t exactly a local anymore, He still makes an effort to come over, often when he needs time to himself so that he can clear the cobwebs, which is what Clubs are generally for.

Ben was a portly sort of bloke, with a bit of a beard on his chin, his hair was badly brushed, and his clothes were very casual, He didn’t have time for his looks, as his mind was always far too busy, even when he was relaxed.

But Ben always allowed time for company, We were “His pack of friends”.

From time to time we’d have “Pub Science” evenings, which were either planned, or more often that not, simply happen. Werewolves can be such geeks, gadgets and science-fiction videos were strewn around on benches, and star wars figures guarded corners of the club.

One evening, about five of us and one Ben were having a conversation about scientists thinking that everything is just one big simulation inside a computer, and then said that where there are computers, there are always hackers.

“Isn’t it interesting” He said “That you can all speak really clearly, even though your mouths are clearly not meant for speaking?”

He was right, Here were we with our big wolfy mouths, and our large canine teeth, speaking normally, it shouldn’t be possible. but then, maybe we shouldn’t be possible either.

He spoke about Tal, our Swedish friend, Who could do the most amazing things with electrical devices, one of the very first things he ever did was to repair a burnt out light globe by simply holding it and thinking,  He would re-program computer games in the arcades, again, just by seeing into the machine, and thinking, There was “The Rambo Incident” at the local Timezone, which still raises a smile now and then.

Tal was working on a musical instrument, Possibly inspired by our Hostess (who was rather keen on me) Charlene, A talented Cello player, like her Mother… anyway, He called it a Psycho-Rod, a “Mind to Midi” device in which he hoped that He could finally play a hot guitar riff just like Brian May

It looked a bit like a Keytar, but had a flat glass plate on the front, no keys at all, it wouldn’t need any, if it worked. But at the time, despite Tal being an absolute genius, with or without his ability, it didn’t.

Ben pointed to me and spoke about my healing abilities, and wondered where that came from too.

My first experience involved seeing the lights in My Mothers head, and curing her of deafness which she had acquired while working, unprotected, as everyone was back then, at a weaving mill quite a few years earlier.

I remember Mum walking around the next day, hearing things like the buzz and mosquito like whine of the fluorescent lights in the kitchen, and then listening to hours of my music. It was like she was a new person, and it made me so happy.

I didn’t see tissue when I healed people, I saw golden lines and little clockwork cogs which jammed or came adrift, and only needed to be put back into place, It was like the meridian lines I’d seen on posters at the acupuncturists wall, except mine was far more complex, always moving and changing, never static. If Bens theory about us being sort of like hackers who were inside a giant computer, then was what I saw just how I interpreted code?

Tal saw letters and numbers, while Charlene saw music notation… others saw colours or even heard sounds.It was like a kind of synesthesia, except that we could use it to make things work or to heal.

When I was a child, I believed magic was real, until a little girl told me it wasn’t, and I was always kind of sad after that, it was as though I’d lost something beautiful, but now I had all this wonder in my life, and I loved it.

I often wondered if it was all just a dream, and if I’d wake up, but the red phone in the club was always the same, and all the words in the magazines on the tables stayed just as they were, I would sit there sometimes, really still, and just listen.

Wolfie Rankin

Copyright PWTS 2013.

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