Dr. Livingston, I presume?
Along the bank ahead of you, you spot some movement. It looks like people, all dressed in white. Your curiosity gets the best of you, so you head toward them. There is much giggling, and momentarily dozens of the white-clad sprites emerge from behind trees and shrubs and surround you.

They explain you have stumbled onto their hideaway. They have formed this secret society to preserve man's freedom to explore and get lost. "Are you lost?" one of them asks. You shrug.

They insist on knowing your intentions. You decide it might be safest to play along. Besides, you're getting hungry. Maybe they have some decent food. So you let them lead you to their camp.

It is a tidy place, as you expected it to be, mostly above-ground, with vine ladders leading to platform-rooms covered with thatch overhead in an attempt to shut out some of the constant rain. On the third level, you stop, astonished.

Before you is a room fully enclosed by panels of vines woven tightly together and sealed with some sort of resin. They take you inside, and as you enter, you hear the rumble of a generator somewhere nearby. The room is cool, and in a corner sits a woman, not young but not old either, unpacking a briefcase. She beams a smile at you. Instantly you're glad you're there.

She tells you she'll help you find your way. Something in your expression must finally penetrate her awareness. "You are a lost soul seeking guidance, aren't you?" she asks and sees your confusion. "Please forgive me! I'm being so inconsiderate. Would you care for a drink? And, please, do sit down." She indicates a pair of matching chairs nearby.

"When I was a child
in Germany," she says while you sip the herbal iced tea she has handed you, "my parents bought those two chairs from Hedy Lamarr's estate in Austria, and I always wanted to know more about such a woman who proved you can be beautiful and intelligent.... Thanks to the Internet, information about her is plentiful. But it's contradictory. She is reviled for having appeared nude in her first film and later marrying a Nazi, but she is lauded for having perhaps acted as an American spy. She is credited with a patent for an invention that has modern-day electronic communications application. But I can find nothing about that estate or my chairs."

You are nodding off, but you try to look sympathetic.

"So," she continues, "have you tried dancing?" You raise your eyebrows, not knowing exactly how to respond.

"Many lost souls just need a quick lesson in critical thinking," she goes on, "so they can analyze their situation better."

You tell her you're just looking for inner peace, "you know?"

"Maybe you're a Renaissance Soul. They have a hard time choosing among all their interests."

"I don't know WHAT to do," you admit. "I'm not sure of my direction." This is the truth, at least, since you have no idea where you are.

"Maybe it's your shadow beliefs, she suggests."

"What are those?" you ask.

"Just something I heard on Oprah."

You cough.

"If only I could get you to talk about your emotions," she says. "Maybe I should arrange for you to talk to Dr. Beetle."

You don't know what to say to that.

"Here," she says, handing you a colorful piece of paper, "read this."

She sees that reading that last page has made you smile. "I know someone who could cheer you up even more: the Professor!"

You ask for directions. "Return to the crossroads and take the brick path," she says and points. You thank her and move on....

"If you think of any more subjects that are fun to explore, suggest them in an ," you hear from behind you.