44. One Thing That Drives a Man
Posted on January 30, 2012
Denmark stood still. He let Mayotte’s hand hold him steady as it pressed against the small of his back. His torso was bare and he wore a short loin cloth so that the join from his stump to the prosthetic was visible.
Her touch was light but he could feel the warmth of her hand radiating across his exposed skin. The sensation was not unpleasant.
“I don’t understand.” He said flatly, “How does it know what I’m thinking if I don’t know what I’m thinking?”
“Ok, you win.” She replied, smiling at the consternation furrowing his brow, “You’re going to find this very difficult to understand, let alone believe, but I will try and explain.”
“You have to promise to stop asking questions though.” She admonished, as she lifted up his loin cloth and landed a playful slap on his exposed buttock. “We need to get you up and about. You’re starting to get flabby and I really don’t like flab.”
“I think I may be going completely out of my mind.” Denmark thought to himself, “that, or I’m dreaming.”
“Think of your body as a vessel, a ship if you will, for your mind.” She said tapping him on the forehead for emphasis.
“Your mind tells your body what to do. You tell your body what to do. Agreed?”
He nodded, this he could understand.
She placed a hand gently on his breast, lightly tracing a circle around his heart.
“So tell your heart to stop beating.” She whispered leaning in close.
Denmark was about to respond with a pithy remark but he held his tongue at the last moment. His brain had managed to engage before his mouth and was wrestling with the unusually deep, philosophical nature of the order. He knew what a heart was and what it was for. He had stopped plenty of them in his life-time. He had even removed a few while the owner still screamed in agony. However, it had never occurred to him that he didn’t control his own heart. He knew it was a muscle but then why could he not control it in the same way he controlled his legs or arms?
“Don’t bother trying.” Mayotte interjected into his reverie with a giggle. “The best you can do is slow it or speed it up a little, but without stabbing yourself in the chest, it’s pretty much impossible to stop your own heart.”
“So what does that mean?” He asked, feeling more confused than ever.
“It means there is more to your mind than you know. It is communicating with your body in thousands of ways, every moment of your life and all completely without your knowledge. When you blink, when you breath, even when you sneeze.”
“I know it seems strange, but it is truth.” She said as she let her hand drop slowly down his chest following the contours of his muscles.
“Your mind, you that is, are connected to the rest of your body by thousands of thin hairs that run through you. We call these hairs ‘nerve fibres’ and they are what carry the orders that you give to the rest of your body.”
Denmark frowned, she was losing him but he liked where her hand was going.
“You saw the small coloured fibres that were sticking out of your leg when you woke up?” She asked tracing a line down his thigh to the join with the prosthetic. He did remember seeing them and realization began to slowly dawn on him. He was uncomfortably aware that he was rising in another way too.
“We put those there.” She continued, slowly lifting the front of his loin cloth, “Each coloured fibre is connected directly to your own nerve fibre. Now your mind can communicate directly through those fibres. I’m not going to bother explaining how the process works, electricity is a discussion we can save for later. Just trust me on this.”
She paused, gently cupping his balls.
“There may be many things on your mind, but ultimately, there is just one thing that drives a man.” She squeezed and Denmark grunted in surprise. “Follow me.”
With that she released her grip and took a few steps back from him, beckoning suggestively.
He walked after her without thinking.