Nikola Tesla Books
CHAPTER FOURTEEN By comparison, Puharich's behaviour was quite mild. I found it difficult to sleep that night and, despite the late hour, got up and wandered round the house in a restless fashion. I walked over to my bookshelves and ran my fingers along the spines. A particular title would evoke a memory and I would pull out the book, read the opening paragraph, then throw it down in disgust or boredom. In the end I made myself a large glass of whisky, honey and hot water and allowed Scriabin's music to sweep into me. The music from the record player painted its own pictures in my mind and below them I could sense a memory that had been nagging me during the past few days. The memory had almost the quality of a dream about it. It was summer and I had been staying for several weeks on an island in Lake Ontario. The cottage I was renting was located a few yards from the lake and each morning I would get up quite early to catch the first fish of the day. A mile or so across the water I could see a tall radio or television tower which had been built on one of the many other small islands which fill that part of the lake. Over the last few days the weather had been hot and humid. An oppression built in the air until, that evening, it became clear that a storm was brewing. Electrical storms are not infrequent in that location and are caused by cold air from the north meeting warmer air over the lake. On the previous evenings the sky had been alive with electrical discharges although no thunder could be heard. Just as the light was fading, heavy rain began to fall and almost at once a clap of thunder echoed across the lake. I stayed indoors at first but as the storm grew closer I went to the door and stepped outside to look. The night was a dense black with the only light coming from the windows and open door of the cottage. The rain was heavy and the air seemed alive with thunder and flashes of lightning; the trees around the cottage were bent by the force of the wind. The centre of the storm came closer and I suddenly realized that the last streak of lightning had hit the water somewhere between the cottage and the transmitting tower, whose red lights I could just make out through the rain. A blast of thunder hit simultaneously with the blinding effect of the 122
