Robert Housen was bored. The presentation had been pretty standard cult recruitment propaganda so far. Any time now, the request for donations would come. Maybe a request for a volunteer to help demonstrate the host’s mystic power. Such a person would either be a shill or someone tricked into playing the part. 'Why can't these guys come up with a new routine?' he asked himself.

As if in response to Robert's unspoken question, the leader of the sect, Herald Rouge, stood up once again. His golden blond hair styled perfectly, if flamboyantly. "I am not here to ask for money tonight. I am here to prove myself to you. I do not ask you to simply have faith in me because I say you should. That would be foolish. I have no interest in the company of fools! Instead, I invite the wisest man I know of, Mr. Robert Housen, to step up from the audience and join me for an experiment." Extending his hand over the edge of the stage, the leader of the "Self-Actualization Now!", Herald Rouge, pointed directly at Robert and beckoned him forward.

'At least THIS is new' Robert chided himself. 'This is what I get for wishing I guess.' Out loud he said, "Thanks for the warm welcome Herald!" Standing, Robert began to squeeze through the maze of middle-aged men with badly concealed efforts at covering graying and long fled hair interspersed with ageing spinsters and the occasional directionless youth. He was nimble for a man his size, but physics can be harsh and unyielding. His manager had been after him for months to lose the weight. Like a little thinning around the middle would help with the thinning of his hair as it turned grey. He refused to wear a hairpiece or color what was left of his hair.

As Robert reached the stage, he took hold of Herald's hand. He was astonished when the slender showman pulled hard and almost hoisted the much larger Robert onto the platform with little sign of effort. Regaining his balance, Robert looked around.  Close to the microphone and podium and slightly to stage left, was a card table with two folding chairs facing each other across it placed so that the audience would view them both from the side.

"Please, take a seat! It's not every day I meet such a dedicated truth seeker!" said Herald with a gesture to the chair closest to stage left. Robert purposefully chose the other chair. A darkness seemed to flit over Herald's face and never quite left his ice blue eyes as he gracefully settled into the remaining seat. "Forgive my rudeness, Robert, I could not help noticing that you seem to be going a bit gray on the sides. You know, I can reverse that. In fact, I could reverse some other symptoms of age as well." All of this was delivered with a note of challenge. Louder, for the benefit of the crowd, he said, "If I can prove my powers to you, will you admit that I am for real in the media and swear to it?"

" Herald, if you can prove that you are honest, I will do everything possible to help you get the recognition you deserve."

"Let's start with that gray, then, shall we?" he said as he pressed his hands on the graying hair on either side of Robert's head.

The perfect, smooth plane of Herald’s forehead was spoiled by the furrowing of his brow and closed his eyes as he performed the standard ‘concentration’ face used in the trade. He suddenly opened his eyes in what seemed genuine shock and looked searchingly into Robert’s eyes. “It seems there is something karmic that prevents me from turning back your biological clock. We must find something else that I can do for you.” Looking down toward Robert’s neckline. “Could you pull your pendant out a little? Don’t take it off, I just want to examine it. Can you tell me about it?”

“It’s just a pewter necklace my late wife got for me at some convention a few years ago.”

“You must know this pendant very well. Do you treasure it in memory of her?” asked the con man.

Robert’s face became a frozen mask. “What makes you think I want you talking about her?”

Waving his hands in a helpless way Herald backed away a step, “I just wanted to know if what I was thinking of would be a gift that you would like. I meant no offence!”

Herald held the pendant in his palm while his eyes closed. Lines of concentration creased his brow. This time, the concentration seemed more real. There was an honest sweat on his brow as his breathing became heavier.

When Herald released the small bit of base metal, there was a faint smell of ozone. The pendant fell against Robert’s chest and seemed to have gained weight. “There. Any time you hold it in your hand, an image of her will appear over it.”

Robert was amazed when he raised the memento in his hand and an image of Lucy, his dead wife, showed above his hand.

At that moment, the room went dark, and a strong chemical odor filled the room. Robert could feel his head spinning. Then, he was out like a light.