At this point we must return to Franklin's raft (I will save full disclosure of his presentation for another time). All right, there he was on his "deck," awkwardly posed in a seated position. Then that sudden thrill, which you have heard about, enfused him. The day grew large, as it were. Then something else happened. Gazing at the shoreline of Allenhurst and Deal NJ (a scene made up of, low bluffs, a small boardwalk and numerous tall old houses), he saw a thin, metallic flash. It was as if he passed a preternaturally reflective thread stretched vertically before him. Whatever it was, it was a solid thing rather than an optical trick of sun or sea.

He threw himself onto his side and paddled a turn with his hand in the calm warm water. The flash had impressed him as repeatable should he return to the right spot. More than that, the glimpse had left him with a speck of an idea: perhaps it was "something ... something." He had hardly formed the notion of what this something might be, other than to say that it was "something ... something," which indeed he uttered - softly, reverently - twice. His meaning was in his tone.

Then again! All at once he glimpsed the golden flash once more - and passed it again. It was a filled something - "a golden grammar of things," he later would say. Over the next few minutes he saw it and passed it two more times; and each time he gathered a new morsel of data from the sight. It was a structure of some kind - of land - or structures of land; it was in no way similar to the coastline that was his constant view. No, it was a towering rise, a half-mile in height, perhaps a mile in breadth, a small kingdom - all inside that glowing vertical thread. Yes, it was something. Was it ... was it what he had been looking for all his life? No, impossible! Besides, he said to himself, I'm not even sure what I've been looking for. In fact, I'm not even sure I've really been looking for it. There was no such thing. What thing? Still, if I can hold the correct position, travel into the light...

His further maneuvers, which lasted more than an hour, ended in success: he met face to face with the luminous thread of space that somehow sectioned the air in front of him. Before he could make sense of what he saw, he felt a sudden "shivering or peeling away of thin air" all around him.

He knew he had entered.

***

Okay, some more questions if you please.

Question: Why'd you stop the story? It was just getting interesting.

Answer: (Gravely) You must be prepared.

Question: Okay, okay... So what happened when Franklin saw that flash of light? He seemed to pass through it somehow, right?

Answer: You must understand that the borders of Nowever Then are less than the width of a human hair. Perfect alignment - among other things - is necessary for entry.

Question: So how do I align myself? Where do I go to try it out?

Answer: Well, I would not suggest you do it as Franklin did it. The easiest way is to walk down Ocean Avenue right between the borders of Allenhurst and Deal and see if you can perceive the "thread." (This would put you just west of the main waterfall in Nowever Then.) It doesn't always work. A lot depends on the susceptibility of the person. Franklin was super-susceptible. He was cast by the sea in the direction of Nowever Then, brought there by the waves of life itself, so to speak. Such people thrive on living metaphors.

Question: How did you get there?

Answer: Well, permit me to save this story for another time. For now, let's return to Paterson's essay. In this next part he tells of Franklin's arrival in Nowever Then and also gives a well-detailed description of the town. There's even a picture of Nowever Then from the ocean and several other views. So please click on "NEXT PAGE" to continue to page 4 of Paterson's account.

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