Jueqel meets Yogan

Jueqel was a bookworm back in high school. His teachers liked him well enough, but there was always something that kept any of them from warming up to him. He submitted three poems into the school literary album for the 1986 school year. Of note, everyone of his poems were published. One in particular stood out from the rest.

A failed result from an assignment on patriotism expressed in poetry. Failed because it gained him a “C-” grade, which was unacceptable to Jueqel. After the publishing of the annual, the instructor took notice of his work and asked why he had not submitted the poem for a grade. She thought it was very well done.

“I did,” he said for everyone in the class to hear. He let her know the grade she gave him. He projected all his frustration toward her, but all he got in return was teacher's “oh.”

All through high school it was the same. The harder he tried to make his presence known, the easier was for him to get ignored. He later learned it was his ability to turn things off in the mind. He learned this from a man and a woman that showed up to his graduation.

After his graduation ceremony, Jueqel went to backstage to get his diploma to place in the plastic tube he had received on stage. The tubes handed to students were a props for show. It guaranteed students would not pull stunts during the ceremony, if they wanted to get their diploma.

His mother and father stood behind the rope barrier, solemn and reserved. Something about their manner let him know there was bad news, and he didn't want to know. They were standoffish and cold. He got depressed just approaching them. Father sounded horse, “come on.” They turned and walked away just like that. He noticed they were glowing with an inner light Jueqel could see, or sense.

Jueqel didn't even get to the car before his parents turned on him. They were not his parents. These strangers looked a lot like them, but their walk was wrong. Too tall for mother, and too broad for father.

“Get to the car,” father said.

“Yes, be a dear, and get in the car,” mother said. This got a sharp look from father as his head snapped in her direction. That was not something his mother would have said, but she didn't know that.

Jueqel said, “improvising is not one of your best suites.” Fear gripped his legs and pushed him to move. He ran back to the building, and started through the double doors. A large man that had his father's features placed a hand in the seam of the doors. The doors would not budge. The face of his father melted into someone else as looked for a clue.

The other one grabbed his face, and after a moment he was seeing double. He could see himself and the woman that used to be his mother a few moments ago. From the experience, Jueqel remembered there was a conversation that happened so quickly he was hardly aware of it happening at all.

The Yogan needed his help. They were here to fix the world. They have plans, and someone like him would be very useful.