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ck teenagers avoided it。 I went there with him two or three times … Paul seemed to accept my pany more often than anyone else's； particularly when I was younger。 I didn't especially care for the place myself … it seemed to me the loneliest place I'd ever imagined … but I suppose a kid will follow his big brother just about anywhere he's invited。
〃I think that must be where he met the girl。
〃Mom and Dad were out that night at a P。T。A。 meeting or some such。 I was watching TV； and if you want to know the truth； I was eating some stolen jelly beans from the horde Mother used to hide away for herself。 So when Paul came crashing through the front door； I jumped afoot in the air before I even saw him。 When I got downstairs； my first crazy thought was that the migraines had finally split poor Paulie's head open。 He looked。。。 well； I guess I've given you a pretty fair imitation tonight； crashing in here the way I did。 His scalp was laid open around the sides of his head； his forehead was dripping blood in lines that streamed crazily over his face； his fingers were raw and bleeding； and his eyes held so much agony that even at nine years old I was more terrified by them than by anything else。
〃He was babbling incoherently； swinging his arms wildly as if to ward off some closing demon； and sobbing as though his heart would break。 I'd never seen anyone his age cry like that； you know？ I rushed to his side and got him to sit down； and without thinking about it I went to the bar and mixed him a martini； just as Mother had taught me to do for her。 Little enough of it went down his throat； but it calmed him some； and the rest at least got some of the blood off his chin。
〃Of course； when he'd calmed down a little I asked him what had happened。 ‘She looked so nice； Jimmy；〃 he raved； 〃so nice。 I thought it would be all right。 I mean； I knew it would be bad； but I thought I could take it。 She looked so god damned nice；〃 he shrieked； trembling like a leaf。 Finally I got the story out of him in bits and pieces。
〃It seems my brother was a telepath； after all。
〃A latent telepath； at any rate。 From age five to fifteen； his only telepathic manifestation was his instant…echo bit； and that was done unconsciously。 Subvocalized thoughts must be closest to the surface。 During that time he never received thoughts except those about to be verbalized； never sensed emotions； and never had any conscious volitional control of his wild talent。
〃But about midway through puberty the picture began to change。 His power was still beyond his control； but it grew。 With no warning； he would suddenly find himself inside someone else's head； with increasing frequency and for increasing lengths of time。 The first time he plugged in was for a split…second only； just enough to scare him silly； and it didn't reoccur for a couple of months。 By now； he told me； telepathy came to him every week or so； for as much as five or ten minutes at a time。
〃You must understand； this was nothing like the traditional ‘telepathy' of science…fiction stories。 It was not the ability to send messages without speech； Paul had never succeeded in sending anything。 Nor was it the ability to receive such messages。 It was； rather； a process of entering the skull of another； receiving its entire contents and perceiving them as a gestalt。
〃I wonder if you can imagine what that's like？ Perhaps； if you've ever thought of telepathy at all； you've thought of how terrible it would be if someone were inside your strongest defenses； privy to all your secrets and desires and shameful memories and frustrated lusts and true feelings。 Well you might … but have you ever considered how terrible it would be to find yourself in someone else's head； with all that unsought and unwanted knowledge？ As long as people remain locked in their own skulls； they should be … because as most people intuitively realize； the things that grow and fester in a sealed skull aren't always tit to share。
〃On top of that； there's the sheer shock of directly confronting a naked ego as strong as your own； and Paul told me that night that it doesn't help a bit that the other ego is unaware of you。 Most people never get over believing that they're the center of the Universe； even when they know it isn't so … to have your nose rubbed in it is unsettling。
〃And so； Paul told me between sobs； he began avoiding people the best he could as his strange and terrifying power grew in him。 Repeated exposure made the minds of his immediate family tolerable to him； and his telepathy seemed to be sharply limited by distance； with an effective radius of about a hundred feet or so。 By keeping strangers beyond that limit； Paul could achieve peace of a sort； the flashes of telepathy bringing him only glimpses of Dad； Mother and myself。 Dad he pitied with an intensity heretofore unknown to that emotion； Mother he hated beyond all understanding； and me he often found soothing； until I grew up enough to start having dark secrets of my own。 He told me some things about myself then； that。。。 but that's irrelevant。
〃The point is； that night； muning with himself in the moonlit gravel pit； he met a girl； about his age or a little older。 One of the strange things about out…of…the…way places is that； while you almost never meet anyone there； anyone you do run into is somehow very liable to be friend … material。 At any rate； she seemed to Paul the nicest and most gentle girl he'd ever seen in his life； not at all like any other girl he'd ever met。 She spoke softly； and only when she had something to say； and he felt in her a difference that he could not explain to me in words。
〃Whatever the reason； he let down his guard for once。 Instead of running away or driving her from him with rudeness； as he had learned to do with strangers； he stayed to talk。 Before too many minutes had passed； he began to lose the usual terrifying fear that his wild talent would strike； began to believe that it might be all right if it did； began finally to almost hope that it would。
〃And it did。
〃I'm sure she was a lovely girl； but the best of us harbor dark secrets … sometimes even from ourselves。 I don't know specifically what shattered Paul that night； but I'm sure it was nothing that a bishop on his deathbed would have felt pelled to confess。 Maybe it was nothing more dishonorable than her lifetime's accumulation of pain； for one's own sorrow may be bearable by its familiarity and yet staggering to a stranger。
〃In any event； it hit Paul even harder than usual； because he had dared to hope。 Now； if your ears are overloaded； you can stuff your fingers into them； if your nose is outraged； you can hold it； if your eyes are blinded you can shield them with your arm。 But when you brain itself is overwhelmed by direct input； all you can do is smash at it with a rock； hoping to drive the other consciousness away with your own。 Sometimes； if you're lucky； it works。
〃For Paul； that night； it hadn't worked。
〃Now you must understand that I was very young。 I barely prehended the things that Paul was telling me； and if I understood what had happened； I surely didn't understand why it had hit him as hard as it obviously had。 B