“Troy!” Beck sounded panicked.
The senior councilman squeezed Troy’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine. Just dial down the noise.”
The image of an old-fashioned rotary dial appeared behind Troy’s tightly closed eyelids, and he pictured turning the knob counterclockwise. Instantly the pain caused by the mental chatter lessened.
“That’s it,” the senior councilman said.
Troy let out a breath. “Thank God!” He smiled reassuringly at Beck. “I’m fine.”
Beck nodded, not looking totally convinced.
Above the sounds of the crowd, he could hear a pair of robins calling to each other in the trees somewhere on the far side of the grounds. Focusing in on the sounds, Troy’s vision, which had always been 20/20, seemed to sharpen and he could see the birds clearly, make out their individual feather
