He was bored and looking for a new thrill for his sexual release.He was bored and looking for a new thrill for his sexual release. It had begun when he went on 'Safari' in Kenya with his father. It wasn't a real Safari, but some kind of archeological dig his dad worked at. His mother was anxious since she and his father had been divorced since he was eight. She was worried the boy's father wouldn't let him return. He had. The strange witch doctor visiting the camp 20 minutes from Malindi took him off to look at the sea. His father didn't mind, so for a few hours the two of them, the uniquely painted tribesman, and the boy, stared out at the Indian Ocean. He told the man he liked to hear the waves. The witch doctor told him he should hear the waves people made. He didn't know what the odd but harmless quack meant, but put up with the waving of his strange rattles and bones in Bill's direction. The old geezer was bizarre, but friendly enough. Soon afterwards the talent settled in. He never knew if he'd always had the skill or if the shaman had woken something new in him. But afterwards, ever afterwards, he could read minds and manipulate them. On the flight home, he'd listened in to the thoughts about him with interest, experimenting on the waitresses, ah, stewardesses, to learn how to control them. They brought him anything he asked for, even moved him to the empty first class section of the cabin. |