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Joseph
Perception is a powerful thing for perception is the gateway to knowledge. Even that most curious way of knowing called faith depends to some extent upon perception for that which is not perceived to be true, to be trustworthy, or simply to ‘be’ cannot be the object of belief. In perceiving the world, one might come to know the world, or one might mistake mere perception for the genuine coin of the real and the true and in so doing fail to know nothing more than the world of his own misperceptions. Even, indeed especially, those with the keenest of senses are vulnerable to that which might control and shape perception, for the keen sense is a sense whose accuracy is taken for granted and whose perception provides the measure which separates the true from the false.
Senses, of course, are not simply physical. There are also internal senses, those deeply emotive, intuitive and personal manners of perception by which one comes to know himself and his place within the world his physical senses perceive. Masking the youth from the physical senses which seek after his life is a rather simple matter. More difficult, yet clearly more important for his survival over the long term, would be the broadening of whatever truncated perception of himself keeps him a frightened and confused victim. “And who’s to say that things will remain this way?” he responds to Larry’s statement. “Now be still a moment.....”
His voice falls to little more than whisper and his slender arms trace a brief and graceful pattern before the young man’s eyes. A few seconds of whispers punctuated by movement are all that physical sense might perceive. Yet, even in their perceiving of whisper and gesture the organs of sense themselves are changed. The young man’s eyes change in color and the lines of his face shift into the aspect of an older man. The color and length of his hair shift and the color of his skin takes on a healthier cast. A few pounds of additional weight supplement his form. His hands fill with a workman’s calluses, a fitting complement to the deeper, more confident tone he shall find in his voice once he begins to speak. His scent is changed and he stands an inch or two shorter than previously. His garments as well change to conform to this new form, simple and sturdy and muted in color.
In the passing of but little time the form of Larry Silverfall lies hidden beyond the power of sense to perceive.
Placing a hand upon the shoulder of the young man, he says quietly, “No fussing.” Stepping back from him, he allows his voice to slide into the direct and simple notes of a common traveler, “Now why don’t you be seeing about finding us a place to make camp?”
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