The sunrise brought our first weekend at our new school. The faculty left it mostly to the students to organize activities. Students who had car were prohibited from using them without specific instructions from the parents when and where they were allowed to travel. Still, such permission was discouraged by the school due to the many things that could go wrong.

Amie, of course, had plans for us. She had found more than enough girls interested in volleyball to have several team. There was no “choosing sides”. Amie assigned every girl to a team based on Amie’s perception of her ability. With Amie’s gift of perception, I had no doubt that the teams would be very near equal in ability.

We had a quick breakfast, went straight to the volleyball court and, of all people Lauren was there! She was contrite, “Amie, I really want to apologize for the things I said at lunch yesterday. I was angry at my parents for sending me so far from home. I guess I thought I’d take it out on you.”

“It’s OK.” Amie replied. “Where is this far away place from whence you have traveled?”

“Nederland,” she said meekly.

Amie knew the place because she had relatives nearby, I knew because I had studied the Texas map and memorized virtually all the cities, towns, rivers, lakes, and whatever Texas had to offer.

Still, Amie asked, “That’s in Texas?”

“Yes…near Beaumont.” Lauren’s eyes lit up as though just being from Texas brought her closer to friendship with Amie.

“Your dad works at a refinery.” Amie surmised.

“Yes! How did you know?”

“Your dad’s not a professional person, and most non-professionals from that area who have an appreciable amount of wealth work for a refinery. Do you know what your dad does?”

“He’s a supervisor of…something.”

“That’s OK. I’ve never met anyone who knew what their dad did if he worked in a refinery. They probably don’t want to put out a lot of information out there due to security. As for being a long way from home, doesn’t the air smell fresher here?”

“Well…it smells different.”

“My guess is you haven’t smelled fresh air in a long time. Houston air is not great, but it’s better than the air in Southeast Texas where there are so many refineries. Look, see the girls who have gathered around us as we talk? They’re ready to play volleyball. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I like volleyball.”

“Then, let’s play! OK, we have enough for 4 teams. First I’m going to call out the team captains names. Then I will call out everyone else’s name and tell you your captain’s name. You will line up behind your captain. OK…the captains are me, Lauren, Abby, and Kim.”

I was so glad Amie didn’t assign me to be a captain. I was equally glad to find that I was on her team. There were 3 volleyball courts, so we had plenty of room. Everyone there took the game seriously and seemed to enjoy it as much as I did. Most were very skilled as well. One thing I did realize, though. I was going to invest in a good sports bra. I had developed to a point where too much jumping was uncomfortable. Hopefully, Amie had one I could borrow, since a shopping trip was not in our plans soon. The school rules were too strict for us to take off on a shopping spree, even though we had a stylish ride available and plenty of money to spend.

The game was exhilarating. We played for more than 4 hours before some of the girls started saying they were hungry. Amie decided it was time to break. “OK. Let’s go eat and get a little rest. Whoever wants to play some more, meet back here in 3 hours.”

We had some lunch, then went to our room to rest a bit. I lay on my bed and went over the details of my dream. It had to have a meaning! It was too real, the white coat, the sword, “ANA”. The name (or word) was in all caps. “American…what?” I decided to put it out of my mind and try to relax. It seemed just a few seconds later that I heard Amie saying, “Jamie. Wake up. Let’s go play some more volleyball!”

I sat up in bed. The lunch and rest had done a lot of good. I was ready for more physical activity.

We walked to the volleyball courts. A few girls were already there and more were drifting that way. Apparently, Amie and I were not the only volleyball aficionados.

However, the competition was not as fierce as it was earlier. Many of the girls were out of shape after a summer of TV watching, online shopping, and whatever other distractions enabled the girls to remain sedentary for many of their vacation hours. After a couple of hours it became obvious that many of the girls were unable to play effectively. Amie decided to dismiss everyone. “No volleyball tomorrow. Sunday is our day of rest. “

Amie and I headed to our room to clean up before dinner.

After we showered, we lay across our beds to rest a bit. My dream was still on my mind, so I asked, “Amie, do you dream very much?”

“Not that much, but when I was younger I had a series of unusual dreams. One night, I dreamed an angel came to me and said, ‘your grandmother is going to die’. Oh, I was scared! The next morning I told my parents and they reassured me that, even though my grandmother was older, she was in pretty good health. That made me feel better, but a couple of days later my grandmother did die.”

“Oh, no!”

“Yes. My parents never mentioned my dream, but I know it was on their minds. Time passed, and they seemed to forget about my dream.

“But a few weeks later I dreamed an angel came to me and said that my grandfather was going to die. I found that they had not forgotten my dream at all. They called my grandfather to ask how he was doing. My mother started going by every day to check on him. But 2 weeks later, my grandfather died. My parents still tried to deny any link between my dreams and the deaths of my grandparents.

“But then one night, I dreamed my father died”

“Oh, Amie!”

“Well, my parents were believers by this time. My dad was very careful when he would drive or anything he would do.”

“But your dad didn’t die!”

“Well, a couple of days later, our postman collapsed on our front porch and died.”

“What? How old was…. Was it a heart attack? I don’t....”

“Jamie! Stop!”

“What?”

“It was a joke!”

“I don’t get it! What part of it is a joke?”

“Amie…it’s all a joke. My mom and the postman? Get it?”

I paused…slowly I began to ‘get’ the joke. I smiled.

“Jamie, I have a theory.”

“About what?”

“The brain, intelligence, and common sense.”

“Ok , Amie. This has got to be good!”

“You know it used to be said that we only use 10% of our brains, but now that is no longer accepted by science. The concept has been now relegated to the status of “urban myth. Scientists say we actually use 100% of our brains.”

“OK.”

“I think it’s probably true that we use 100% of our brains, but most people use a small percentage...say 10%... of their brains for formal learning…math and the like. But the rest of the brain is used for really difficult tasks. Those tasks are things we take for granted like socializing, understanding people and empathizing. We don’t’ realize how difficult these things are because so much of the brain is dedicated to these tasks…for most people.”

“OK, Amie. I want to hear about the “not most” people.”

“Well, I can name one of them and she’s in this room right now! But you probably can’t imagine about whom I’m talking.”

“Uh…let me think…I’ll bet it’s either you or me.”

“It’s you! Your IQ is unbelievable. And your eidetic memory has got to use up a lot of resources. Yet, you have a hard time understanding people. You’re kind of like John Nash, the guy who was the subject of the movie, “A Beautiful Mind”.

“Wow! But I don’t have imaginary friends!”

“Well … I might not be real.”

“Amie, you are almost too good to be true, but an imaginary friend would not drive me around in a Corvette, at least I hope not. Also, an imaginary friend would not arrange volleyball games.”

“OK. I guess I’m real, but don’t you think my theory makes sense?”

“Yes, except there’s one person who seems to be the exception.”

“Who’s that?”

“Who do you think? You! I know your IQ is in the genius range, yet you have amazing social skills!”

“Well, I guess it’s ironic that my theory doesn’t work on me.”

“Still, it might be good for a doctoral thesis someday.”

“Right! Hey, wanna eat? Don’t look at me like that! ... dinner I mean. Maybe Lauren will be there to grovel some more. I’m sorry. That was mean. I’m sure she’s an OK person. She could probably be a good friend. Not to me, of course. Damn! I can’t stop saying mean things about her. I really need to because I think she would make a good friend. She’s kind of needy though. ”