Blue Coyote Motel

by Dianne Harman

  Denver was a compassionate city and its local officials were very interested in working with the homeless to get them off of the streets. The mayor and the city council made it a top priority. Sean’s clinic offered workshops, classes and counseling for the homeless. The founder of the clinic had been instrumental in setting up workshops and programs designed to help the homeless get jobs and with their new income, they no longer had to resort to living on the streets. The successful results were tangible.

  The city was a mecca for young people who lived to ski, but after the season ended, many found themselves with no resources and often resorted to selling and taking drugs, as well as prostitution. Under Jeanne’s wise tutelage, programs dealing with those problems were also implemented and they, too, had the backing of the mayor and the city council.

  It may have been as simple as being in the right place at the right time, but for whatever reason, the clinic was a huge success and greatly appreciated by the citizens of Denver, many of whom made it a top priority when they wrote their checks to non-profit organizations.

  The more attention given to the clinic by the media, the more people wanted to be associated with it. A number of retired psychologists donated their time as did a few doctors and nurses. The clinic was expanding rapidly and with the growing case load, they were soon going to need more space.

  Many of those who came to the clinic were insured, so the cash flow was substantial. Patients could go elsewhere, but they had heard impressive stories about the clinic and they chose it instead. Not only was Sean using all his counseling skills, he was also taking classes on management, a subject completely foreign to him.

  Sean had always been a people person. His genuine warmth and caring nature effortlessly drew people to him. He found that many people wanted to work for him and he was able hire his employees from a large pool of well-qualified applicants.

  Jeanne was thriving as well, both in the marriage and in her work at the clinic. She was very skilled at connecting with young people because of her troubled background. She could identify with and speak to the problems her clients brought to her when they sought her guidance.

  Sean was surprised to find that he really enjoyed skiing. Jeanne was a world class skier and a very good teacher. Under her guidance he was becoming quite accomplished. They spent every weekend in the mountains. Everything about his life had changed, with the exception of the counseling. He found he enjoyed being outdoors, which he thought was strange after all of the years he had spent in church praying and conducting services. He didn't drink, he had a wonderful wife, and the thoughts of young boys no longer haunted him. That was all in the past. If someone had told him that he would be leading this type of life a few years ago, he would have thought they were crazy. It was a life he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams.

  As a priest, he had never been interested in the rapidly growing world of technology. Smart phones, tablets, and computers held no fascination for him, but as director of the clinic, he was forced to become technologically literate. A thriving business depended on websites, billing programs, scheduling, and calendars. Soon Sean found that he was able to master and enjoy this new world. He realized that, like so many others, he had even become dependent on his smart phone and his portable tablet.

  Relaxing while having lunch one day and surfing on his iPad, he discovered an app on birding. He had no idea that it was one of the most popular outdoor recreational activities in America. Sean became fascinated with the activity and talked Jeanne into traveling to the mountains after the ski season to go birding. They took their first birding trip early in the spring, just as the last of the winter snow was melting. Jeanne had always loved any outdoor activity and enjoyed taking photos of the many species of birds native to the Rocky Mountains.

  Between their winter ski trips and the birding, they were spending almost every weekend in the Rocky Mountains. They talked of buying a small cabin in the mountains since they were spending so much time driving back and forth on the weekends. They contacted a real estate agent and began looking at properties. Sean didn't think life could get any better.

  Then things began to change. For several weeks, Sean had begun to notice that something wasn’t quite right with him. Sometimes he felt like he had a fever, then that would go away only to be replaced by a feeling of nausea. At other times he felt chilled and noticed he was sweating more than usual. He began to snap at Jeanne and found he was becoming impatient with almost everyone and everything. His wonderful new life came crashing down one morning when he woke up and realized that he had dreamed of seducing young boys while drinking vodka with them. He got out of bed, drenched with sweat. Dear God, please no, he silently prayed. Not again. No doubt about it, he thought, the dream had been highly erotic. Even though emotionally he was disgusted with himself, his fully erect penis indicated some baser part of him had responded to the dream. As if the dream hadn’t been enough of a wake-up call that something was happening to him, when he made his way to the bathroom to shower and shave, he noticed that the stubble on his face was white, rather than gray.

  He started thinking about some of the other physical changes he'd noticed lately, but hadn't really paid much attention to, like the veins on the back of his hands, which stood out prominently, and the trouble he was having sleeping. He’d recently admitted to himself he felt really tired, but he couldn't seem to get a good night's sleep. He tended to blame it on his hectic schedule, but now he wondered why he seemed to be aging prematurely.

  Sean walked into the bedroom where Jeanne was getting ready for her busy day and asked, "Have you noticed anything different about me?"

  "Well, I didn't want to alarm you, but yes, I've noticed that you don't seem as energetic as you were a couple of months ago. I thought maybe with working so hard during the week and playing so much on the weekends, it was beginning to take its toll on you," Jeanne answered. "I'm sure it's nothing. Perhaps we should stay home the next couple of weekends. The last few months have really been hectic. We could both use a little rest."

  The day seemed like it would never end. For some reason, Sean’s mind kept focusing on the past and all of the problems associated with it. He was unusually sharp with his employees, finding fault with everything, and being less than empathetic with his own patients.

  Finally, as the day wore on, Sean was forced to admit to himself that the siren song of alcohol was beginning to sing to him. From his background in psychology, he knew he couldn't stop the seductive thoughts of alcohol, but it was how he reacted to those thoughts that could be a problem. The mere thought of taking a drink scared the hell out of him. And then what? he thought. Would the fantasy of young boys become more than a dream? Would it rear its ugly head as well? Would Jeanne leave him? Would he be forced out of the clinic? He felt he was going down a steep and slippery slope, that everything he had worked so hard to overcome was about to come crashing down, destroying his new life. He was becoming increasingly anxious and nervous. Sean tried to think of something he could do that would reverse these bad thoughts that were coming to him.

  For some reason he began to think back to when his life had turned around. He remembered the little motel in the desert where he had stopped when he'd realized that he was too drunk to drive. He felt overcome by a strong urge to return to that little desert motel. Who knew, maybe there was some healing magic there?

  Coming home from the clinic, he pulled his car into the garage and walked into the kitchen, where Jeanne was beginning to fix dinner. "I've been thinking," he said. "I know I've told you about this little motel in the California desert where I stopped last year and it may seem crazy, but I wonder if there's some healing process going on there. I keep remembering how optimistic I was and how good my future looked when I left there, even though I was at the lowest point of my life. There are supposed to be a number of holistic healing places in that area of California and Arizona. You know, hot springs, mineral springs, things like that. Maybe there's something lik
e that going on at that motel.

  "Anyway, if you don't mind, I think I'll go there over the Memorial Day weekend, spend a couple of nights, and see if I feel any better. I don’t want to alarm you, but not only have I been having some strange physical things going on, I’ve also been quick-tempered and impatient, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. But the thing that really got my attention was a dream I had last night. It was about young men and vodka. Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of me on one level, but was tantalizing on another. I’ll make the trip by myself. You stay here and enjoy some quiet time without me to bother you. I'll be back before you know it, hopefully back to my normal cheery self. I love you and I will do whatever it takes to keep you and preserve and protect this wonderful new life we've built together. I refuse to go back to who I was. I can't. It's not an option. I'd rather die than go back to that hellish double life."

  "Oh Sean, I've been so worried about you. Yes, of course, if you think it will help; then go. Set yourself free once and for all. You've told me a number of times how desperate you were and that suddenly, when you woke up at that motel, you felt optimistic, that there might be a future for you after all. Whether or not there is any healing going on there doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you need to feel good again. That’s all that is important. We both know enough to understand that these things often have no scientific factual basis, but they work. Call and make your reservation while I finish dinner."

  Sean couldn't remember the name of the motel. He racked his brain, but nothing came to him. He recalled that he had used his credit card and perhaps the name of the motel would be in his credit card file. He went upstairs to his office, pulled open the desk drawer, and quickly found the file he was looking for. He leafed back through the pages, and there, in the charge column, was the name "Blue Coyote Motel." Now he remembered the neon coyote sign on the side of the road. He opened his iPad, pulled up the browser, and typed in "Blue Coyote Motel." The motel website immediately popped up with the phone number. He still marveled at technology and how you could find anything you wanted on the Internet. It was amazing.

  He took out his cell phone and tapped the phone number onto the keypad. The phone was answered immediately by the lovely young woman who had called him "Father." He recognized her voice and remembered her well. A beautiful Latina, although at the time, he hadn't been particularly interested.

  "This is Sean Moriarty. I stayed at the Blue Coyote Motel almost a year ago and I'd like to stay there Friday and Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, if you have room."

  "Of course, Father, I remember you. We would love to see you again. See you in a couple of weeks," Maria said, her voice warm and comforting.

  Swell, thought Sean, how in the devil do I tell her I'm no longer a priest and that I'm married? Being Latina, she's probably a devout Catholic who could never understand how a priest could become defrocked. Oh well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Just a couple more weeks and I'll be there.

  Feeling optimistic for the first time in several weeks, the aroma of the chicken roasting in the oven brought him back to the present and he hurried down the stairs to Jeanne.

  CHAPTER 30

  Barbie called Jill one Sunday afternoon a few weeks after they had returned from Nepal. "How about coming to a Zen meditation session with me later today? You seemed to enjoy the Tibetan aspect of Buddhism when we were in Nepal. I'd like to introduce you to a type of meditation called sitting meditation. It’s associated with Japanese Zen Buddhism."

  Barbie picked her up later that afternoon and drove her to a nearby Zen Center. On the way, Barbie filled her in on what she could expect, cautioning her about keeping silent and trying to limit her physical movements. She told her how to sit on a pillow called a zafu and where to place her hands.

  They parked the car and entered a vibrant, flower-filled courtyard. A few minutes before 5:00 p.m., they walked up the steps to the meditation room along with a number of other people. The room was oblong and everyone sat on a zafu facing a wall. Candlelight filled the room and there was the smell of incense, a sandalwood scent that Jill was familiar with from her bi-monthly facials. She knew she'd also smelled it somewhere else, but she couldn't quite remember where.

  There were two sitting meditation sessions of twenty minutes each and a walking meditation in between. The hardest part for Jill was trying not to swat the fly that kept landing on her face. Barbie had been very clear about keeping her movements to a minimum. Evidently, part of the Buddhist philosophy was a non-attachment to anything whatsoever; that all things would pass. The fly that kept landing on her cheek gave a new meaning to this concept for Jill. She kept waiting for it to pass.

  After the meditation, they turned around, faced one another, and listened to the Zen priest give a talk. Following the service, tea and snacks were served in the courtyard where candles were brightly glowing. It was enchanting. Jill started thinking about how she could get this effect on the patio at her home.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder. "Excuse me, but weren't you recently on a trek in Nepal?" an attractive man asked her. Looking closely, she recognized the doctor from San Francisco, the sixth member of their trek. Jill remembered him, but she had forgotten just how attractive he was. He was about 6'2", dark hair with graying temples, green eyes, and a great body.

  "Yes, I was. How are you?" Jill replied. "I thought you lived in San Francisco. What brings you to Orange County?"

  "I had a medical conference in Los Angeles this week and my parents live in Newport Beach. I've heard good things about this Zen Center so I decided to stay over the weekend and try it. And you? Are you a member of the center?"

  Jill replied that her friend Barbie had attended services at the center for a long time. After their trip to Nepal, Jill had mentioned to Barbie that she would be interested in attending a service at the center. She told him that this was her first time.

  Aaron Nichols was the doctor’s name. Jill was surprised when he asked if he could take her to dinner that night. He explained that he was flying back to San Francisco the next day and friends had recommended that he try a new restaurant owned by a celebrity chef who had just opened his restaurant in Newport Beach. Jill was even more surprised when she found herself accepting his invitation.

  The people at the center were extremely friendly and very well educated. It seemed that every other one was a doctor, a lawyer, or a psychiatrist. Jill had read somewhere that Zen appealed to the intellect rather than the emotions. This group certainly seemed to underline that.

  Jill found Barbie and told her she wouldn't need to take her home. She said the doctor they had met in Nepal was there and that he had asked her to dinner.

  "Well, you certainly are doing better than I did," Barbie said. "I tried to get his attention the whole time we were on the trek. Guess I'm not his type! I'm glad you're going out with him. It's time and Rick would want you to make new friends, particularly a handsome doctor from San Francisco."

  The dinner with Aaron was thoroughly enjoyable. He was attractive, smart, and entertaining. Jill enjoyed being with him and having been a doctor's wife; she could easily understand and talk about his world. The evening went by quickly and when he took her home, Aaron asked if he could see her again. He explained that he would be in the area during the holidays and asked if she would have dinner with him then. Jill said she'd love to. He pulled out his Blackberry, consulting his calendar. "How about the 23rd of December? As I mentioned earlier, I have family in the area and I usually spend every other year down here for a few days during the holidays."

  He walked her to her door, again telling her how much he had enjoyed being with her. Aaron mentioned that he had been attracted to her on the trek, but she had a "Do Not Disturb" air about her. He had made some inquiries and found she was a recent widow and not open to any male overtures. She liked the fact that he had sense enough not to intrude at that time and found she was looking forward to the 23rd.

  While she didn't feel "enli
ghtened" after she returned from the Zen Center, she felt pretty good. She didn't know if the good feelings were from the Zen Center or from Aaron. She decided to try and sit in meditation for twenty minutes a day to see how it felt. Aaron said he had been doing Zen meditation for years and credited it with being able to deal with the world from a place of calmness. Jill went to the Internet and found a Zen supplier who carried zafus and ordered one. I might as well be comfortable if I'm going to do this, she thought as she placed the order.

  Jill was dreading Christmas without Rick and she decided to accept every invitation that came, hoping it might help to ease the pain and loneliness she knew she was going to feel. Maybe if she kept busy, she wouldn't feel quite so lonely.

  The 23rd of December came and with it, dinner with Aaron. She again enjoyed herself, perhaps even more this time than the first time. He asked if she was up to being his date at a family dinner the next evening, Christmas Eve. He told her it was a very casual thing. Family and friends traditionally came to his parents' home on Christmas Eve for drinks and food. It wasn't a sit-down formal affair, just lots of extended family and a table loaded with fabulous food.

  It took her a moment to reply. Her first instinct was that she should mourn Rick on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but in the next moment, she knew that Rick would be the first to insist that she find happiness wherever she could. Theirs had been a wonderful love affair, but that was in the past. It was time to move on. "I can't think of anything I would rather do. May I bring something?" she asked.

  "A hungry tummy and a hollow leg," Aaron replied. "There's a lot to eat and drink. I think you'll like my family. We're a bit of a Heinz 57; Jewish, Catholic, Muslim, and now me, a Buddhist. We're a true American melting pot. My mother is Irish Catholic—I get my green eyes from her—and my father is Jewish. My sister married a Muslim. It can be a bit chaotic, but we get to celebrate a lot of different things, and always with food!" Aaron was clearly delighted she would be joining him and his family.