“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

“I came here from Denver,” Fred said. “I haven’t got a penny. Look—I have no wallet in my back pocket. The stewardess at Denver let me on the plane when I explained to her that I had to meet you—”

“I have no money, not a penny. I came here from Denver, Colorado. I don’t know where I’m going when I leave here. Fred is very cold. He’s shivering. He has no place to go.”

How could he manage to arrive here without a penny in his pocket? I kept wondering if he had some money and change (at least) stowed in one of the suitcases, but he swore—Seth swore for him—that he did not, and finally I believed him. I also believed him when he finally sat down in the driveway and said he was prepared to die in the cold. He could have wanted to sit down from sheer physical exhaustion, yet I think more was involved. This noon, as I talked about writing these notes, Jane wanted me to call the police and ask what had happened with Fred. I wanted to also, but hesitated. My stomach felt empty. “Wouldn’t it be hell if Fred shows up at our door again?” I asked. “Maybe he’s from town,” Jane said. “Maybe the police will just let him go and he’ll come back.”