The Exchange

By Susan Reintjes

A wounded African elephant appears in a N.C. field while desperately needed vaccines are miraculously delivered to a clinic in Uganda. These stunning events are followed by more and more phenomena as endangered animals are whisked to safety and needed supplies are delivered to areas devastated by war, drought, flood, fire and famine.

What is making this happen? Is it benevolent aliens or is God tired of rampant greed and forcing us to tithe? Or could it be sentient wormhole activity? That is the question on the minds of physicists, ministers, philosophers, economists and psychologists all grappling with the bizarre happenings. Em, midwife and mother of fourteen year-old Corbin, is at the center when the first elephant comes to her.

How will Em and Corbin cope with being on the front line of the world chaos? Will the world discover what is behind the rebalancing of resources and the preservation of our precious wildlife?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Feb 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781982277147

Susan Reintjes

Susan Reintjes is a psychic and healer who was featured in the bestseller, Proof of Heaven, and served as a consultant to Oprah Winfrey. To date, she has helped thousands of clients clear illnesses, develop psychic abilities, resolve relationship dilemmas, and discover life purpose and creative potential. This is her fourth book.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 Susan Reintjes.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. [Biblica]

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

844-682-1282

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-7713-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-7715-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-7714-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021923178

Balboa Press rev. date:  02/21/2022

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Thanks to my neighbor, Al, for his unstoppable goodwill and his magical field; and to Eric Saxon, for a spot-on suggestion for this book and his unwavering support.

40849.png

With gratitude to my editor, keen-eyed Kate Kager

Everything existing in the universe is the fruit of chance or necessity. Democritus, discoverer of the atom, 400 BC

40851.png

This thinking completely inverts physics. Nonlocality is no longer the mystery; it’s the way things really are, and locality becomes the puzzle. George Messner, Spooky Action at a Distance, 2015

40853.png

Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Luke 6:38, New International Version

40856.png

You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. Matthew 23:23, New International Version

40858.png

Critical mass: a sufficient number of adopters of a new idea, technology or innovation in a social system so that the rate of adoption becomes self-sustaining and creates further growth.

40860.png

"There’s a lot more that we don’t know compared to what we think we know." Katie, Mr. Swain’s classroom at 11:22 a.m.

40862.png

CHAPTER 1

Where did it go?

The cry erupts from Bertram’s left, and he shouts back to his mate, I winged it! And I think we’ve got it cornered. He can hear Arno slashing his way through the jungle undergrowth to get into a better position. The disruption and noise send the elephant barreling back in Bertram’s direction. He takes a steadying stance, positioning himself to bring the bull elephant down. The sale of those enormous tusks will bring them the cash they need.

A loud bellow and the crack of branches explode in the dense jungle between the two men. As they both turn toward the towering elephant, he lifts up on his hind legs, his massive feet clawing the air. They aim their guns high, directly for his heart, and midtrumpet, the majestic sound ceases.

40866.png

"I’m late. I’m late again."

Em presses down hard on the accelerator, and then slowly eases up on the gas. Summoning her mindfulness practice, she takes a deep inhalation that ends in an exasperated sigh. I’m not really late. Just cutting it very, very close, Em mutters to herself.

Corbin, her fourteen-year-old, had a meltdown right before the bus came, and Em had offered to let him stay home from school. The meltdowns are happening more and more often since losing his dad. Thoughts of Corbin and his struggles bring what really matters into a sharper focus, and being a little late to work suddenly isn’t so important.

Finally on her way to the clinic, Em begins to relax and glances out the passenger window at the sight of her favorite field. Swirling with morning mist and scattered with hay rounds, the open space delivers a wave of otherworldliness. The morning mist dances and spirals around the oversized bales of hay; the surreal scene takes her into a much-needed state of reverie.

Turning her gaze away from the pastoral scene to concentrate on the curve in the road ahead, Em almost misses catching sight of the wheel of hay rolling toward the road. Slamming on the brakes, the car careens onto the shoulder and lurches to a stop, inches before the deep ditch. Even though the field in front of her is as flat as glass, one of the tall, circular bales is bounding toward the grassy verge. Before even realizing it, she’s out of her car, leaping the wide trench and running toward the solid bundle of hay.

Em and the hay round stop at the very same instant. So focused on the curious bale, she misses the massive bull elephant rising out of the fog until she is dwarfed by its presence several feet in front of her. Great curved tusks and wildly flapping ears frame a long, gray trunk that is lazily snaking toward her. And if she were not absolutely certain what she is witnessing, an unmistakable elephant bellow rings through the air.

What is an elephant doing here? Where did it come from? Her internal questioning becomes unimportant when the elephant steps closer. Quickly recalling the instructions for meeting a new dog, she casts her eyes downward and extends her hands outward, remaining stock-still, letting the largest mammal decide what comes next.

Is this the right way to let an elephant know that I am not a threat? I certainly hope so. Em continues to beg silently, entreating the elephant to consider her good intentions if she is wrong in her judgment. Her breath suspends, and her gaze moves upward and falls on the blood dripping from the missing triangle of thick skin on one massive ear.

Ohhh, you’re hurt. The sound of her own voice startles her, but draws the elephant closer. He reaches out for her with his trunk, sniffs her outstretched hands and encircles her waist, drawing her close into his body. Em stumbles to keep up with the swift and unexpected embrace, ending up with her face pressed firmly against the wrinkled hide.

With eyes squeezed tightly shut, she breathes in the smell of the jungle. The elephant’s warm, moist breath, tinged with the scent of hay, wafts about her, and her senses are rewarded with a wild and wonderful scent. Heady with the exotic fragrance of another world, Em opens her eyes in time to see the bull drop to one knee, as if bowing before her. Reflexively, her spine straightens, and as if in a dream, she grasps one solid, smooth tusk and scrambles up onto his back. Sitting astride, she surveys the ground below. He is taller than she imagined, and she takes in the beauty of the field from elephantine height.

Without hesitation, as if she’d been riding elephants her whole life, she nudges him forward with a press of her knees and gently tugs the crest of an ear to turn him toward her home. Suddenly remembering her morning plans, she fumbles for the phone in her pocket, and with her heart pounding, she waits for her clinic to pick up.

Em, where are you? The waiting room is filling up and you have a D&C in half an hour. Her assistant’s voice is replete with concern and overwhelm.

I know, Celia. This is a true emergency. I can’t explain right now, but Corbin and I are fine. Call Martha to come in. She’s not leaving for vacation until tomorrow. Tell her I’m sorry. And Celia?

Yes?

Thank you. You’ll understand when I tell you the whole story. Bye.

Slipping the phone back into her pocket and taking a firmer grip with her thighs, Em and the elephant cross the hardtop road to take the long gravel drive to her house. Automatically, as if they’d ridden together many times before, she pats the elephant’s side and marvels at the unfamiliar, but oddly comforting, texture of the leathery skin. His loping pace soothes her, and she wonders how she has been satisfied with driving a car when this could have been one of her commuting options.

40868.png

Elephant! Her own cry awakens Katie, hastening her out of her dream. She wrestles with the covers that have twisted around her, trapping her in a cocoon of sheets and blankets. Her clock reads 4:34 a.m., and the windows are dark except for a faint light from the waxing moon. Groping about in her nightstand cubby, Katie finds her journal and starts to scribble.

An elephant shows up in a field. I’m with my friend Corbin, and we are holding hands and looking at the stars when an elephant appears in front of us.

She stops writing to stare at her trembling hand, while a dart of excitement shoots into her chest. Focusing on stabilizing her shaking hand, she adds one last sentence before settling back down in the warmth of her bed.

I can’t wait to tell Corbin that something magical happened in my dream.

40870.png

Em closes the barn behind her, and positions herself squarely in place, leaning against the wide double doors with all her weight. The hinges creak loudly with the force of the elephant’s head bearing down on the wooden frame at her back. She squeezes her eyes shut and sets her jaw to help steady herself, holding her position firmly.

Mom, you’re bleeding!

Em’s eyes startle open to face her son, Corbin, staring at her and the patch of blood on her scrubs.

No, honey, this isn’t my blood. Listen, I’ll tell you everything that’s going on after you do me a favor. Her last words barely escape her lips when the elephant butts a more insistent head into the door, tilting her momentarily off balance.

"Mom! What is in there?"

Listen, sweetie. You need to go get the car.

Corbin stares at his mother. What do you mean? Why isn’t the car here with you?

I know this is confusing, but just put on your trainers and head toward town, and in about a mile, you’ll see the car on the side of the road. Drive it back here for me.

Mom, I only have a learner’s permit. I can’t drive without you.

It’s okay this one time. Just drive slowly, and you’ll be fine.

The doors behind her remain still and Em, crossing her fingers, steps forward. Corbin turns away, jogging toward the house and then turns back. Wait! Why did you leave the car there?

Just go get it, please.

Resigned to waiting to know what is going on, Corbin extends his hand. Mom, I need the keys.

They’re in the car. I can’t remember if they’re in the ignition or on the seat.

You left the keys in the car? Mom, what’s going on?

As if on cue, the elephant nudges the barn doors again; Em springs into action, taking up her post once more. I will explain, I promise. I just need a minute. Go on and get the car. That will help me so much right now. Em knows her son’s soft spot is his need to be helpful. Ever since his father died, he’d been trying to fill his shoes.

All right, all right. I’m going. Corbin races to the house to put on his trainers and is back on the gravel drive in three minutes flat. She watches him fly down the drive, his long dark hair lifting up behind him. A swell of love and worry pushes thoughts of the elephant away for a millisecond.

Cautiously unlatching the doors, she presses a palm into one side, and it eases open, allowing her to peek in through the crack. The restless creature is lumbering from one side of the barn to the other, as if searching for an exit.

I need to calm him down, to take the edge off his fear. I have some Valium I’m saving for those rare muscle spasms or flights to Europe. So, how much would I give a very large elephant? Quickly calculating the dosage for her own weight and doing some multiplication for an animal weighing several tons, Em decides that it won’t hurt to give him the remaining pills in the bottle. It will, at least, take the edge off for now.

Placing a long plank of wood in the fittings of the doors for extra security, she dashes toward the house and, slipping off her shoes at the door, hurries upstairs to her bedroom. She rummages in her cabinet, finds the medication and bolts down the stairs. Pouring the pills into her hand, she lets the empty container drop to the floor by the front door, slips back into her shoes and jogs back to the barn. Taking a deep breath, she eases the doors open to find the elephant swaying back and forth, stepping anxiously from his left feet to his right ones, reminding her of a younger Corbin needing to pee.

Awwww. Come here, Big One. That’s it. She speaks to him in the soothing tone that she uses for her laboring mothers. He responds by settling firmly on all four feet and extending his trunk toward her. Em fills a bucket with cool water and slides it toward him. He drinks and drinks, spraying the last bit of water onto his head, and in the process, douses her with the icy cold water. Grateful for a little comic relief, she laughs as she shakes off the unexpected shower.

Then, quickly remembering the medication still dry in her clenched fist, she offers him the pills. His trunk finds her outstretched hand and gently dabs at the pills with the quivering tip of his trunk. After sniffing them for several seconds, he sucks them into his trunk and artfully brings them to his mouth.

Em sits down in front of the enormous creature. With legs crossed, she simulates being in yoga class, breathing steadily and deeply, calming herself and the air around her. Slowly, the bull responds by bending his back legs and coming down on his belly, before turning onto one side. His massive head rests inches from her knee, and she slowly extends a hand to stroke the broad space between his eyes. The bull moans softly and sighs as his tattered ear lifts and slowly waves, signaling his gratitude to her before heavy, gray eyelids slip over his eyes.

40872.png

The sun is barely peeking above the horizon of the desert sand; the dry heat of Uganda is growing stronger by the minute, erasing the coolness of the night. Jai usually enjoys her early morning commute, but she couldn’t sleep at all worrying about arriving at her clinic with no vaccines on hand. Her families are in desperate need of cholera and tetanus shots to stave off the epidemics that are worsening by the day. Exhaustion from working ten-hour days to vaccinate the children is nothing compared to turning needy children away, leaving them open to illness and worse. Blotting out the statistics she knows so well, she tries to focus on the rest of the drive.

Leaving her car at the far end of the dirt lot, Jai passes the long line of parents and children that winds right up to the clinic door. She forces a smile and greets the tired parents and cranky kids, most of them having traveled overnight, or several days, to get to her clinic. Slipping past the most eager parents pressed against the entryway, she turns her key in the lock and pushes against the door. The door opens only a sliver and then stops, blocked from within.

In her bafflement, Jai steps back, recalling the empty waiting area when she closed up the clinic the night before. She braces her shoulder against the wood and shoves the door hard; only a crack appears, a crack not even big enough for a foot. A father and mother step forward to help, adding their shoulders and weight and, finally, the three of them make enough space for Jai to squeeze through. Thanking the helpful parents, she eases the door shut behind her, wanting to take stock of the obstacle blocking her entry.

Standing in front of her is a recognizable object: a refrigerated container built to hold vaccines. Placing her hand on the container, the cold metal reassures her that the contents are still viable, even though she can see that the electrical plug lies at her feet. More confused than ever with the impossibility of it, Jai steps back from the container, searching the outside for the usual paperwork that always accompanies a shipment. But there is none.

Suddenly aware of the chatter of the long line of families outside, she hastily opens the door of the container. Inside are enough verified vials of tetanus and cholera vaccine to last for weeks. She stares at the glass tubes, tears streaming down her face. Where did the vaccines come from? Who sent these to my clinic? And how did they get here? The queries fly through her mind, each one demanding an answer that is beyond her understanding. Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Jai puts aside her bewilderment and curiosity to quickly shift the vials to the clinic refrigerator. This day is turning out to be so different than what she expected.

"Weebale," Jai whispers her thanks in Luganda, and moves forward to open the door to greet her young patients.

40874.png

Gravel shoots out behind Corbin as he flies down the driveway. Curiosity and worry mix together to increase his adrenaline and give him a boost of energy. When his feet hit the hardtop at the end of the private road, he sprints harder and, in record time, rounds the bend to spot the family car by the side of the road. His mom’s parking job is haphazard, leaving part of the bumper sticking out into the lane of traffic. Fortunately, this country road is less traveled, and the car appears undamaged.

Skidding to a stop by the driver’s side, Corbin peers into the window to see the car keys dangling from the ignition. Curiosity about his mother’s strange behavior fades when he slides in behind the wheel to take his first solo drive. Focusing all his attention, he grips the steering wheel at ten and two o’clock, imitating the hand positions that he learned in driver’s ed. Once in place, any anxiety dissolves; he knows exactly what to do.

Repositioning the seat for his lanky frame and adjusting the side mirrors, Corbin takes a moment to relish being all alone in the driver’s seat of a car. This is how it’s going to feel to be a grownup: to drive where and when I feel like it, alone and free on the open road with only my thoughts and my music for company. Intruding thoughts of his mother, breathless and blood-spattered back at the barn, end his daydreaming; and he hastily turns the key to start the engine. Checking left and right for cars, he puts the car into reverse, eases it back onto the road and uses the wide grassy verge to turn around. Once headed home, he lets out a long-held breath, and grins, wishing the drive home were longer.

Parking the car in front of the house, Corbin runs to the barn to find the doors shut, barricading its mysterious inhabitant. Afraid to enter the barn without his mom, he turns to hurry into the house, calling out to her. Silence greets him, and he’s ready to call again when he spies the empty medication bottle on the floor and lifts it up to examine the label. Valium? What is going on? Dropping the empty bottle, Corbin races to the barn and cautiously whispers through the narrow slit between the wide doors, Mom? Are you there?

Hearing a rustling from inside, he slowly pushes one of the heavy doors ajar to find his mother sitting on the floor stroking an elephant. Mom! Corbin whispers. Mom, that’s an elephant!

I know, sweetie. Come on in and meet Big One.

40878.png

Charlie grabs his iPad and heads to the warehouse. It is his job at BioLab to update any new shipment entries