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The Child - Nine “They’re sort of different,” Ted remarked. “I mean, a book of pictures of the people I know sure wouldn’t look like this. Most of my friends are younger.” “Oh, I know all sorts of people,” Maya laughed. “All of them are interesting.” She stopped the page to point at a par- ticular picture of a man. “For instance, look at him,” she told Ted. “What do you think of this man?” “Well,” Ted began, staring at the photo, “I guess he looks like a very kind man, a gentle person.” “How do you know that?” Maya asked. “It’s simple,” Ted shrugged. “Just look at his eyes. He looks happy, like someone who would be fun in a crowd or a party.” “From what I know of him, you’re correct,” Maya smiled. She turned to another photo, this one showing a more mature woman. “This is the mother of one of my friends,” she explained. “What do you think about her?” Ted studied the picture a moment and then sighed. “Heck, I don’t really know, but I think she’s had a lot of pain. Look at the expression on her face. This woman has been hurt very badly. Has her husband died recently, or something like that?” He looked up at Maya. “The only time I’ve seen that expression in my family,” he continued, “was when someone had died.” “As a matter of fact, you’re right,” Maya nodded. “Her husband died not long ago. And this picture was taken right after that. Don’t you think it’s strange that you would know such a thing?” She pointed to another photo, of a young girl, and Ted described unhappiness in the girl’s family life as well as the presence of some artistic talent. Another photo, another description followed, and they went on and on until Maya had asked Ted about every photo in the album. What did he think of them? What did he see in the picture? How did he see into them? How did he know his impressions were valid? Finally Maya closed the album, and Ted sat up, feeling a Masquerade of Angels 82 The Child - Nine little disoriented. “Those sure are some interesting friends you’ve got there,” he said. ‘They all seem like nice people. I’m glad you have such good friends.” It sounded silly, it wasn’t at all what he wanted to say after such an experience, but his mind was too rattled for anything more profound. Something didn’t feel right inside. “Good friends,” he repeated, “interesting people. Are they all from up in the mountains, too?” Maya ignored his question. “Do you not realize what you have been doing here, Ted?” she asked. “Doing what?” he echoed evasively. His heart was racing, and something really didn’t feel right. “Don’t you think it’s kind of odd?” she went on, “that you know all this information about people you’ve never met?” The sensations of a queasy stomach and lightheadedness suddenly reversed themselves in Ted’s body, and then he went into a fit of stiff resistance to her probing. “No, not at all!” he insisted. “There’s no trick to that, it’s all obvious. Those things I told you, everything I saw, it’s very obvious. Look at them!” he pointed, turning the pages furiously. “Just look at them! You can see it all in their eyes, anyone can, for pete’s sake. There’s nothing odd about that, Maya.” “Oh, I don’t know, Ted. It seems rather special to me. You really think such insights are so obvious?” she replied, smil- ing and unmoved by his outburst. ““You really think anyone, everyone, can just look at the face and see the sorts of things you did?” “Yeah, I guess,” he said, faltering. “Why? Don’t you?” Maya took his hands and held them firmly between her own. Her smile deepened, and her eyes locked onto his. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you are psychic?” “That I’m what?” Ted asked. The queasiness was rampant now now. “Psychic,” she repeated. “Able to read into people’s energy and see information about them. I don’t think the things you have told me about these people could have been known to you otherwise.” “But all I did was look at their faces and their eyes,” Ted . Masquerade of Angels 83