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The Maze - Sixteen Another night, while working with the meditation group, Ted was again presented with a vision of terrible devastation. In this one, he first saw a map of the American eastern sea- board. As he watched, great earthquakes suddenly erupted, rippling with mighty force across the land. And then whole sections of the coast broke loose and sank, submerged in the boiling ocean. Such visions recurred, each time bringing Ted sorrow and despair. One night when a scene presented itself, this time Ted not only viewed it, he was part of it. He saw himself in a populated low, coastal area, and he was running down the streets, warning the people to move inland. “You’ve got to get away from the coast!” he shouted. “Earthquakes are coming, and tidal waves, and you’ll be destroyed if you stay here!” But the people just laughed at his warnings and ignored him. At last he gave up and sadly turned away. As he walked up the road, he paused and turned back for one last look. Behind him, a great tidal wave washed over the town, sweep- ing all the people away in utter destruction. When the vision passed, Ted was in tears. Overwhelmed by the horrendous chaos, it frightened him to think that these visions might come true. But no messages came to explain the purpose of these scenes, nor did they seem intended for any particular person. His spirit guides, usually responsive, were curiously silent when he asked them for help in understand- ing what it all meant and what he should do about the visions. He felt as if the spirits had failed him then. They told him nothing about Volmo, the fog and wand episode, the missing time on the freeway, or these frightening visions. With this realization, Ted felt an internal shift or turning point, as if he sensed a change coming in his life. Since 1970, when he began his psychic training, his path had steadily ascended in every possible way. But now, his life and his work began declining. At first all he felt was a general loss of well-being. His health deteriorated, and he was plagued by physical pains and discomfort, although when his doctor examined him nothing specific seemed to be wrong. It Masquerade of Angels 154 didn’t take him long to realize that his decline had started after the night with the fog and the light. And after this latest episode on the freeway, the symptoms grew worse. Hoping to stop his general deterioration, Ted began a rig- orous regimen of exercise and healthier diet. All he wanted was to feel good again, and for a while his new routine seemed to help. At least his body slowly returned to a better state, but psychologically he knew he was gradually slipping downward. It became harder and harder to concentrate on his spiritual work. His nights turned fitful, and without sleep he was losing the serenity of mind so necessary for psychic effectiveness. Night after night he awoke, restless and agitated, without knowing why. His nerves grew edgy, and his usual good nature gave way to fits of depression and doubt. Still, he strove to keep his physical strength, but this too slowly ebbed away. One night, waking up with a start, Ted felt compelled to go to his typewriter. A story was emerging in his thoughts, and he had to write it down. When he finished and read what he’d written, Ted was filled with a sense of wonder and con- fusion. He wasn’t a writer, but in his hands was a story, unclear in its meaning but powerfully moving to his heart: Barefoot and wearing his usual overalls and T-shirt, Karly Kane made an interesting sight as he followed closely behind his uncle’s combine, waiting and watching for the large, noisy machine to uncover a rabbit’s home. This was one of the many facets of enjoy- ment offered to the small lad, restricted to this isolated farm life, and he never let these opportunities slip by. It was the first time this summer that his uncles had gone to the hay fields, and Karly was beside himself with excitement. He felt as much a part of the harvest as any field hand present, and the excitement of the whole procedure showed in his every expression. The huge machine, the laborers stacking the bales, the shouts ringing over the deafening noise, and the sweet smell of freshly cut hay were all packaged into a composition of a day’s work. And to Karly it was all very natural, something not to be questioned, only accepted as part of existence itself, and he lived Masquerade of Angels 155