The Atua Man

by John Stephenson

  “I know that. I would never abandon you. When all this talk about apparitions or my appearing or disappearing gets lost and becomes old news, we’ll approach the board again and find a way to live more freely.”

  “I thought you said you couldn’t control the instant appearing,” Alex stated.

  David, Melanie and Michael all looked at each other and realized that Alex had just confirmed the truth.

  “How would you stop?” Melanie said.

  “I’d stop meditating.”

  “Right, like you’d stop breathing,” Lillian cracked.

  “This is ridiculous.” Melanie used Michael’s back as a support and stood. “J.J. has unlimited options. He’s not restricted by the board or by anything on the planet.”

  Lillian looked at her with a glimmer of hope.

  “What power does Tony think he has over J.J.?” Melanie continued. “Money? The trust owns J.J.’s name and his intellectual output. So what? There’s a lot of support out there for J.J. that the board can’t touch. Then there’s security. Again, security can be bought anywhere. There’s no legal way the board can stop Jason, or Lillian, from buying a ticket to Hawaii and leaving this very moment.”

  “I don’t think I can just run away from this or the board,” Jason said.

  “Why not?” Lillian demanded. “You don’t owe them a thing.”

  “Hell. I’ll give you and Jason some land on Kauai and we can start another Taylor Camp. I’m sure Alex would love living in a tree house.”

  “I think the question for you, Jason, is do you want to work through this organization that you’ve built, or walk away and start over?” David asked.

  “There’s a truth that states any obstacle to spiritual unfoldment is either healed or removed by the Spirit, as long as the initiate stays out of the battle. As much as I’d love to move to Hanalei, if I just walk away without resolving this problem, I’ll just have to face it down the road.”

  “Do you think you’re going to heal the board?” Lillian’s pointed question made Jason look deeper into the situation. Could Jason ‘heal’ the board when they believed they were in the right? Could he heal a headache? He knew that if he thought there was a problem, and a healer, and the Spirit—three separate elements—he’d already failed. He knew better.

  “Touché,” Jason said. He knew there was only One. And that meant that harmony and freedom already existed.

  Jason got up and continued, “Shall we all go to Kauai for the winter?”

  Chapter 44

  Stanford House

  Monday Morning, November 2004

  All the directors except Jason were present in the boardroom when Tony Bass called the meeting to order at precisely nine o’clock. The vote was by a show of hands. Those in favor of Jason resigning were Lillian, David, Melanie. Those opposed were Tony, Gary, Barbara, Michael, and Dorothy.

  Lillian and Melanie were shocked by the outcome. Melanie looked at Michael accusingly. He just shrugged and Tony smiled.

  Dorothy stood, put an arm up, and stopped Tony from gaveling the motion into the record. “I want what I have to say put into the minutes.”

  She looked at Lillian with a sadness that revealed her inner struggle. “I would not remain on this board or be part of this Ministry without Jason. I could not bear to think what would become of it solely under the control of Tony. It would lose every ounce of enlightenment it has. I believe Jason can hold it together if he’s allowed to continue what he’s been doing. He needs your support, Tony, not your condemnation.”

  Dorothy returned to her seat. Tony slammed down the wooden disc he used as a gavel, and stated for the record, “The motion is defeated. We will continue our schedule as planned. Jason has a healing assembly at the Royal Albert Hall tomorrow night. He has master classes this afternoon, I believe. I totally agree with Dorothy that any new work be kept confidential until such time as we can properly present it to the public.”

  Tony adjourned the meeting.

  Melanie walked over to Dorothy furious at her. “How could you betray us like that?”

  Dorothy, having picked up some of Elizabeth St. John’s detachment, said, “You’ll understand someday, dear,” and walked away.

  Lillian and David hung around in the foyer as Melanie stormed out, giving Michael what they call in Hawaii ‘stink eye.’ The other board members returned to their jobs.

  “What now?” Lillian said.

  “I’m going to the British Museum to do a little research,” David announced.

  “I guess I’ll just go upstairs and see if my husband is still there.”

  When Lillian returned to their apartment, Jason was at his computer writing. He could tell by her attitude that the vote had gone against them. He got up and gave his wife a hug.

  “It’s alright. We’ll figure this out.”

  “Dorothy voted against us.”

  “Really? Did she give a reason? Of course, she did. She always has a reason.”

  “She didn’t agree with Tony but wouldn’t trust Tony running the Ministry without you.”

  “Okay. What about us? Let’s go out to lunch. I’d love some Indian food. We can walk down to Bombay Brasserie.”

  “Get serious. Let’s hold hands and just disappear together.” Lillian kicked off her shoes and collapsed into her meditation chair.

  “I am serious. I’ve got my wig and glasses. I can put on my fat suit like we used to do when we wanted to go out incognito.”

  Jason left for the bedroom and found the extra-large suit that went over the bodysuit Gary had bought him a year ago, which he had only put on once before.

  Lillian followed him into the bedroom. “I don’t have a disguise. People will recognize me.”

  “Fine. You’re meeting your girlfriends for lunch and I’m your bodyguard.”

  “I’ve got a fat bodyguard?”

  “Why not. Let’s try it.” Jason stripped down to his underwear and stepped into the bodysuit. Lillian started to laugh and couldn’t stop. Jason began laughing too and they both fell back on the bed in hysterics.

  They barely heard the knocking on the front door. “I’ll get it,” Lillian told her husband, and then looked at the rolls of foam-fat engulfing Jason and cracked up again.

  She opened the door on Thomas Parker and Gary. “Is Jason dressed?” said Gary.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Two government men are here to see him, on official business. They’re waiting in the main library.” Lillian felt Gary’s concern.

  “I’ll get him.”

  She shut the door and returned to the bedroom. Jason had size forty-six pants on over the fat suit and was bent over, looking for the right size shirt in his dresser. She laughed again because the suit was anatomically correct and the suit’s butt crack reminded her of a plumber who’d worked for her parents when she was a girl.

  “There are some men from the government that want to see you. They’re waiting downstairs. I don’t think you should wear that, though.”

  Jason entered the grand foyer of Stanford House wearing a black turtleneck, khaki trousers and boating shoes. He crossed the foyer and opened the carved doors to the library. The men in cheap government suits stood up and Jason shook their outstretched hands. They seemed genuinely pleased to meet him and showed him their identification. They were from MI5, the state security service and had a warrant requiring Jason to come with them to Thames House for questioning. Jason wanted to run upstairs to get a jacket and his wallet, but the men wouldn’t let him. They took him directly to their SUV in the garage and drove away.

  Chapter 45

  London

  Monday Afternoon, November 2004

  Thames House

  Jason was alone in a chair in one of the interrogation rooms at the MI5 headquarters. He could tell that a group of men were watching him from behind a mirrored wall. An older man entered the room, senior interrogator Jason assumed, and sat opposite him at the metal table.

  “Mr. St. John,” the man
began, “you are not being charged with a crime. The purpose of this meeting is to ascertain the reliability of reports that you appeared in a terrorist house in the Baghdad area while British soldiers were engaged in anti-terrorist operations there. Would that be a correct statement?”

  “As I told you before, I will not answer any questions until I’ve consulted with my lawyer, Sir William Boyd.”

  “This is not a criminal proceeding. You are not entitled to legal representation. What were you doing in Baghdad? Why were you in a terrorist’s house? Were you shot by British soldiers?”

  Jason didn’t answer.

  “We can play this game for a long time, Mr. St. John. We just want to find out the truth. I find the report that you were in Baghdad three days ago hard to believe, but I have to verify it one way or another. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner we can all get back to business.”

  “And what business is that?” Jason said.

  “The business of keeping this country safe from terrorists. Are you a terrorist, Mr. St. John? Is your preaching just an elaborate cover? Help us out. Prove us wrong.”

  The interrogator walked out. Jason mentally debated whether to meditate and establish the Peace but decided that would be putting his pearls before swine. Then again, if he could slip into that dimension of oneness he could disappear and be free. The words “agree with thy adversary” came to him. This was just another form of material power that couldn’t touch him—unless he resisted or fought. His human agenda could always be changed and if he maintained his dominion and remained calm and detached, nothing important would be lost.

  Hours later, well after dinner according to Jason’s stomach, two men Jason hadn’t seen before entered the interrogation room. Spiritual facts and inspiration were running through Jason’s mind: “Be at peace.” “Do not resist.” “Love your enemy.” The same interrogator followed the younger men into the room.

  “Please take off your sweater and pants,” the older man ordered.

  Jason started to resist but decided against it. He pulled his turtleneck over his head and removed it and then undid his pants and stepped out of them. He could feel the shock when they saw his tattoos. They ordered him to remove his undershirt, and he did. Very few people had ever seen the scope of the tattoos that covered Jason’s body. The guards stepped back, almost like they had been accosted by the tribal images. Their reaction was visceral. It was as if they subconsciously understood what the tattoos meant, and the icons were as toxic to these Brits as they were to the native Hiva people.

  The lead inspector warily examined Jason’s torso, afraid to actually touch his tattoos, and found no sign of gunshot wounds. Embarrassed, the inspector told Jason to get dressed. “We have you on a twenty-four-hour hold, so you will be spending the night,” the inspector said as he left.

  “On what grounds?”

  “Aiding and abetting terrorists,” he called back.

  “Are you out of your mind? I demand to be released immediately.”

  “I’m sorry sir,” one of the younger inspectors said, taking hold of Jason’s arm. Jason wondered where Sir William was, and realized there was nothing he could do at that moment. He followed the man into the heart of Thames House where he was locked up for the night.

  King’s College School

  Monday Afternoon, November 2004

  Alex was called from class fifteen minutes before school ended. He thought it was another security situation and picked up his backpack assuming he wouldn’t be coming back. One of the school secretaries took him into the foyer of the headmaster’s office where a middle-aged man and woman waited for him. They identified themselves as being from Social Services and showed Alex a court order authorizing them to take him into custody to examine alleged abuse at Stanford House.

  Alex refused to go. He started yelling and barged into the headmaster’s office. “This is all fake! I’ve never been abused!

  The headmaster put down his newspaper; the headline read “Jason St. John in Custody at MI5.” He looked at the warrant and told Alex he had to comply with the order, but he would ring his mother and things would get straightened out very quickly. The male social worker dragged the still resisting Alex from the office, as the headmaster, shaking his head in disbelief, phoned Lillian.

  Hope Chapel

  Monday Afternoon, November 2004

  Gary Howell sat in Reverend Germaine’s office. A stack of flyers for the St. John Royal Albert Hall Healing Assembly, scheduled for the following night, laid on the Reverend’s desk. Gary was waiting for a response. He thought it was ecumenically important for Reverend Germaine to witness a healing demonstration.

  “You say you want to save souls,” he continued while Germaine studied a flyer. “Here’s your chance. Why not send your followers to see firsthand what a St. John Healing Rally is all about? Maybe you’ll be surprised by what happens.”

  “You don’t see the light, do you? He’s lied to you from the beginning. He’s the devil. I don’t need any more evidence to support that,” Reverend Germaine told Gary.

  “Doesn’t it say in Second Thessalonians that the breath of the Lord will put an end to him? Wouldn’t the presence of your congregation there be that breath? You said that in your healing services you call on Jesus to enter the hearts and minds of your people. Couldn’t He enter the heart and mind of Jason St. John? You said Friday night that you have seen many miracles. I’m inviting you to put aside your concept of Mr. St. John and see for yourself, not just on television but in his presence, where you might feel something extraordinary.”

  “You’ve been sent on a fool’s errand. I don’t understand why you’re here when I’ve so publicly challenged your guru. Jason St. John can do nothing for me or my congregation.”

  “In the beginning Mr. St. John reached out to the medical profession, which was probably more skeptical and hostile to what he does than you are. We want to extend the olive branch to you, Cyrus. Come and see what a healing meeting is like. Nothing can change the truth. If what you believe is true, Mr. St. John wouldn’t have the power to change that. What are you worried about, that you’ll lose your flock?”

  Reverend Germaine looked at Gary with contempt. “You and your kind are so arrogant, Gary, so sure that you’re right. You come here and insult me and my religion by inferring it isn’t true, and you expect a civil response? You’re as evil as your master. The sooner that evil is eliminated the better off mankind will be.” He dumped the flyers for the assembly into his wastebasket and walked out on Gary. “My secretary will show you the door,” he said without looking back.

  Stanford House

  Monday Evening, November 2004

  Sir William opened the door of the St. John’s apartment and let David in. Lillian was furiously pacing around. Sir William tried to calm her. Melanie and Michael had come to some sort of truce.

  “Child Protective Services took Alex from school today. They had complaints that he was being psychologically abused living here at Stanford House,” Melanie said to David as he entered the parlor.

  “What about J.J.? I just heard that he was at state security?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Some damn reporter. They were filming me on my way over here.”

  “This is Tony’s full-court press,” said Lillian. “No one else has the contacts or the clout to get these agencies to do something like this.”

  “It’s diversionary,” Michael replied. He paused a moment not sure his opinion would be welcome. The others waited, so he continued, “We would do similar things in the investment world; make a problem over here, while you get to your target over there first. So, what’s the target? What is Tony afraid of? The assembly tomorrow?”

  “J.J. disappearing?” Melanie said.

  David turned to Lillian. “How does J.J. conduct his rallies today?”

  “That’s it!” she shouted. “They want him to sit behind a table and disappear. They want to blow this whole thing up. If Jason disappears,
they take over everything. Nobody’s left and they step into the driver’s seat. Alex and I are screwed. Their concern about the credibility of the Ministry was a bluff. Tony wants to create a religion.”

  “What does this have to do with sitting behind a table?” David wondered.

  “That’s when J.J. travels. Alex and I have seen it. J.J. enters such a state of spiritual unity, I mean the atmosphere is incredible, and he begins melting into his environment, for lack of a better term. He pointed out to us that there is a lot of space between molecules, or something like that. The solid state of matter dissolves. I wish I could explain it like he did. I’m not sure if he can disappear if he’s not completely still.”

  David started pacing and thinking. “Then we’ll make sure there is no table or chair. Can J.J. do a healing rally walking around like he used to?”

  Lillian gave David a big hug. “That’s it. We’ve only had Jason sitting behind a table recently. It seems people quiet down faster that way, but we never did that in the beginning.”

  “But how would anybody know that’s how Jason travels?” Melanie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Lillian sat in her meditation chair. “But it seems obvious, in a way.”

  “Can J.J. walk around and do healings?” David said.

  “Absolutely.”

  Sir William finished a call on his mobile and put the phone in his pocket. “That was the commissioner’s office. They’re bringing Alex back as we speak.”

  Lillian jumped up from the chair and gave David another strong hug. “Thank God! What about J.J.?”

  “He’ll be out tomorrow, I’m told.” Sir William eyed Lillian in David’s arms. She gave Dave a quick kiss and pushed him away, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  Chapter 46

  Royal Albert Hall, London

  Tuesday Afternoon, November 2004

  Gary and his team met with the staff of the Hall and went over the security for that evening. The Metropolitan Police were to control the crowds and secure the streets. People were already queuing up. Since it was an open assembly, and no tickets were required, the Hall ushers were instructed to seat people by section and not allow them free reign of the house. Each section needed to be filled before moving on to another.