The smoke in the room climbed up in a graceful dance and became a dust-cloud in the sparkling solar system. The dark head of Jones came into view among the tiny worlds, not obscuring them. The little jewel-like planets were a shimmering crown hovering about him.
He spoke then, and his words echoed to me as if through the vastness of infinity itself.
"Barry," the voice said, powerful but warm, far away but deliciously close, awesome but comfortable. "Barry, my good friend."
I could see the great face, both with my real eyes and with the eyes of that tiny other me swimming within. It was a mighty face, but reassuring—the face of a kind father and loving wife and adoring son all in one. The face was smiling, a dear familiar smile.
But the lips were not moving. The voice was that of a mind, reaching out through vastness and into my own thoughts.
"You are not alone," the mind-voice said, and it was what I had been waiting to hear. "You are one with all good things. The door you have been seeking is open. You have only to walk through."
I had been swimming, but now I walked. It was like no other kind of walking. It was like ice-skating in a way, a smooth, effortless glide. The tiny me walked, glided, out of my body and up, up in a curl of smoke, across a million miles of blackness toward the shimmering worlds.
"I found the door," I thought, and knew the words were being communicated to him. "I thank you and I am walking through. It is a beautiful world you have. It sparkles so. I love it."
I could say these things to him with my mind, meaning them, unashamed of the innermost feelings that would have been throttled off unspoken if I'd had to use the vulgarity of speech.
He understood that, too, and his smile became warmer. There was a bond here I'd never experienced, a warm gushing of myself to him and to this world he'd opened for me. The warmth was reciprocated instantly. His face showed it, his mind told me and the glittering worlds seemed to join in his message of esteem and one-ness.