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saw the light, and my mind exploded with its brightness. Something in me was dying--I knew this for a certainty and something else was being born! Then the light engulfed everything.  
    I found myself lying back on the couch. Socrates was offering me a cup of tea, shaking me gently.  
    “What happened to me?”  
    “Let's just say I manipulated your energies and opened a few new circuits. The fireworks were just your brain's delight in the energy bath. The result is that you are relieved of your lifelong illusion of knowledge. From now on, ordinary knowledge is no longer going to satisfy you, I'm afraid.”  
    “I don't get it.”  
    “You will,” he said, without smiling.  
    I was very tired. We sipped our tea in silence. Then, excusing myself, I rose, put on my sweater, and walked home as if in a dream.  
    The next day was full of classes and full of professors babbling words that had no meaning or relevance for me. In History, Watson lectured on how Churchill's political instincts had affected  the war. I stopped taking notes. I was too busy taking in the colors and textures of the room, feeling the energies of the people around me. The sounds of my professors' voices were far more interesting than the concepts they conveyed. Socrates, what did you do to me? I'll never make it through finals. I was walking out of class, fascinated by the knobby texture of the carpet, when I heard a familiar voice.  
    “Hi, Danny! I haven't seen you for days. I've called every night, but you're never home. Where have you been hiding?”  
    “Oh, hi Susie. It's good to see you again. I've been… studying.” Her words had danced through the air. I could hardly understand them but I could feel what she was feeling--hurt and a little jealous. Yet her face was beaming as usual.  
    “I'd like to talk more, Susie, but I'm on my way to the gym.”  
    “Oh, I forgot.” I felt her disappointment. “Well,” she said,  
    I'll see you soon, huh?”  
    “Sure.”  
    “Hey,” she said. “Wasn't Watson's lecture great? I just love hearing about Churchill's life. Isn't it interesting?” “Uh, yeah--great lecture.” “Well, bye for now, Danny.”  
    “Bye.” Turning away, I recalled what Soc had said about my “patterns of shyness and fear.” Maybe he was right. I wasn't really that comfortable with people; I was never sure of what to say.  
    In the gym that afternoon, however, I certainly knew what to do. I came alive, turning on the faucet of my energy full blast. I played, swung, leaped; I was a clown, a magician, a chimpanzee. It was one of my best days ever. My mind was so clear that I felt exactly how to do anything I tried. My body was relaxed, supple, quick, and light. In tumbling, I invented a one and one-half backward somersault with a late half twist to a roll; from the high bar, I swung into a full twisting double flyaway--both moves, the first ever done in the United States.  
    A few days later, the team flew up to Oregon for the Conference Championships. We won the meet and flew home. It was like a dream of fanfare, action, and glory but I couldn't escape the concerns that plagued me.  
    I considered the events that had occurred since the other night's experience of the bursting light. Something had certainly happened, as Soc had predicted, but it was frightening and I didn't think I liked it at all. Perhaps Socrates was not what he seemed; perhaps he was something more clever, or more evil than I'd suspected.  
    These thoughts vanished as I stepped through the doorway of the lighted office and saw his eager smile. As soon as I'd sat down,  
    Socrates said, “Are you ready to go on a journey?”  
    “A journey?” I echoed.  
    “Yes--a trip, travel, sojourn, vacation--an adventure.”  
    “No, thanks, I'm not dressed for it.”  
    “Nonsense!” he bellowed, so loudly that we both looked around to see if any passersby had heard. “Shhh!” he whispered loudly. “Not so loud, you'll wake