The Seventh Chakra

by J. R. Bowles

  The clerk looked up at Michael and curled his lip. He leaned backward, trying to get out of range of the stench.

  “I'm sorry,” he said “but we're filled up right now.” He fluttered his hand in a point and said, “You might want to try the Hotel Monte up the street.” He looked far from sorry as he turned his back on Michael.

  Michael wasn't about to leave. He knew the man was lying, and he didn't need his sensors to tell it. Michael had spent his entire life before his amnesia living in luxury, and knew how to handle servants.

  “Listen, I happen to know you are not booked,” he lied. “And my appearance may well be offensive; but you will rent me a room!”

  Michael reached out with his mind to touch the other man's mind. The clerk stiffened as he turned back around and looked into Michael's eyes. He pulled at his collar to ease the sudden tightness he was feeling, and finally shrugged.

  The man punched at his computer a moment, and then, facing Michael, raised one eyebrow in disdain. “Very well, I seem to have one room. It will cost you this much.” He wrote the amount on a piece of paper, pushed it with one finger toward Michael and jerked his hand away.

  He thinks I don't have the money, Michael thought. He peeled off the sum and shoved it across the counter.

  The clerk took the money carefully, as if it were diseased, and printed out a receipt. He then shoved Michael's change, with the receipt and the room card key, back across the counter.

  “That will be room 224. There are stairs over there.”

  “What? No elevator? Or are you afraid I will contaminate your other guests?” Michael looked down at the clerk's name tag and read Rudy.

  “My good man, is your name pronounced 'rude,' like your attitude, or is it 'Rudy' like your fucking complexion?”

  The man huffed, as Michael chuckling to himself, turned and walked off.

  Once he was out of sight of the desk, Michael went up the steps anyway; he really didn't want to offend anyone, unless they provoked him first. He paused in front of room 226 for a moment. He could feel that one of the other centers had been here, but was not there now. He pulled the bag he was carrying close to him and unlocked his room next door.

  He tried the connecting door to the other room but it was locked. That would be no problem though, he thought.

  Michael dumped the contents of his bag on the bed and unfolded his newly purchased clothes--clothes at least good enough to allow him to go into a better store to buy more suitable ones.

  Michael stripped off his filthy clothing and quickly shoved it into the empty bag for disposal. After laboriously shaving his bedraggled beard, he climbed into the shower. He spent nearly thirty minutes scrubbing himself. When he had finished he had used up all of the complimentary hotel soap.

  He wiped the steam off the full-length mirror as he stood and dried himself. He had forgotten what he looked like under all the grime. He stared at the wear and tear on his body the past two years had inflicted. His shaggy red hair reached to his collar. Although it no longer was the carrot color of his youth, he was pleased it still held some luster. He couldn't believe two years of self-neglect had aged him at least five years; he looked almost thirty-five. His skin was pale from lack of sun, with red patches caused by nutritional neglect, alcohol abuse and the vigorous scrubbing he had just done. His muscles were still taut in spite of all that; it must be all the walking, he thought.

  Michael slipped into new slacks—as yet he hadn't bought underwear--and pulled on a new pullover. His clean feet cringed when he slipped back into the old shoes—the only shoes he had and he left the hotel.

  Michael returned several hours later with bundles of clothes and shoes. He was wearing a new suit, which had been altered to fit him while he visited a nearby salon for a haircut, facial and manicure. He had bought enough clothes to last until he could visit one of his houses to replenish his supply.

  “Good afternoon, I'm in room 224,” Michael said as he approached the desk clerk. “Could you send up some more of your shampoo?”

  Rudy looked up into Michael's coal-black eyes and automatically smiled. As he stared at him, his smile faded when he began to realize this must be the bum who had checked in earlier. His jaw almost dropped from surprise.

  “Certainly, sir,” he answered, quickly reconstructing his smile.

  “By the way, you never did tell me how to pronounce your name,” Michael said pointedly.

  “I'm so sorry about earlier. You were right the first time. It's pronounced like rude, Rudy, like my attitude,” Rudy said, as he made a note and needlessly shuffled items on the counter, allowing his hand to brush against Michael's newly manicured hand.

  Michael's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at Rudy. The man shivered involuntarily and jerked his hand away when he felt a brief stab of pain run through his body.

  His eyes widened and he blinked several times as he watched Michael turn to walk away.

  “Thank you.” Michael said over his shoulder. Well, he thought, I guess I meet his approval after all.... He smiled smugly to himself and felt the clerk watching him as he walked toward the elevator.

  Back in his room, Michael hung up his newly acquired items and put away his socks and underwear. He hummed to himself as he decided how to go about his search for the others. As he left the hotel, he allowed his sensors to again reach out to feel for any of the other centers, to follow their invisible trail.

  CHAPTER 17

  Jackie awoke with a start from a bad dream of being chased. It took her a few seconds to realize where she was. She looked over at Bernie who was still sleeping in one of the recliners. His jaw drooped, his face was relaxed, almost childlike. She thought he looked charmingly vulnerable, all bunched up like that.

  She sniffed: the aroma of coffee and bacon permeated the air. Her stomach protested loudly about having been neglected yesterday. Bacon? Bernie must not be kosher, she thought, as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

  Zolar must have made himself at home and was busy fixing them breakfast. How nice he is, she thought--but then maybe a little bit strange, too. Breakfast-it was more like brunch, Jackie realized, glancing at her watch; it was almost eleven. Thank goodness she didn't have duty today. They had sat up until almost four talking. It all still seemed like a dream to her. In the bathroom she washed her face and frowned as she stared at her hair, lying flat and lifeless. She picked up a brush from the back of the commode and wrestled several minutes trying to give it life. Finally she gave up the battle; it had a mind of its own. She laid the brush back down, then picked it up, plucked out the hair and flushed it. Bernie was meticulous and wouldn't appreciate her hair tangled up in his brush. She shook her head. The man was so clean he must be at least borderline anal retentive.

  “Good morning, “ Zolar said quietly to her as she came out. “I thought I heard someone up.”

  He had set the table with eggs, bacon, orange juice, and toast, and was sipping on a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning,” she returned, eying his coffee.

  “Caffeine's my biggest vice,” he smiled, watching her eye the cup. “Want a cup?”

  “Oh please, you better believe it. I'm a low scale speed freak. Most Coasties are.”

  “Coast?”

  “I'm in the Coast Guard.”

  “Cream and sugar.”

  “I can get it,” she said, but Zolar was already pouring. “Black thanks. I guess we should wake him up.” Jackie glanced over at Bernie.

  “Yeah, I guess we should. Do you want the honors or you want me to do it? He looks like he's pretty zapped.”

  “I will,” she said softly, with a smile.

  Jackie walked over to about five feet from Bernie and called his name. She didn't want to get too close. In her years in the Coast Guard she had heard stories of people who woke up swinging their fists before they were completely conscious.

  “Bernie.” She repeated his name, melodiously.

  He opened one eye and smiled. “What a lovely sight
to wake up to. I could get used to this.” He eyed her dreamily.

  Jackie felt herself blush but avoided his comment. “Zolar has made some breakfast.”

  He stretched and headed for the bathroom. “You guys start. I'll join you in a few.”

  Jackie and Zolar sat down and Bernie joined them several minutes later.

  He poured himself some coffee and took a sip. “Ah! Just right. Thanks, who cooked?”

  “Zolar did; I burn water,” Jackie teased.

  “Doesn't take much skill to cook bacon and eggs,” Zolar said.

  “Well, Zolar, what's going to happen to us today?” Bernie asked.

  “Come on guys, can't we have a few minutes without getting back into all that stuff?” Jackie protested.

  “Jackie, he's right. Time is what we have too little of. We have to decide what we're going to do.”

  “I'm sorry. You're right. It's just all to weird. If I hadn't experienced that chakra, or what ever you called it, I wouldn't believe it. You said each of us is a key which opens a center and when the final key is opened he, whoever he is, will have great power. Is it power to control people?” She paused. “Zolar, I just don't know about any of this.”

  “With each opening he will gain more power. This morning's opening actually begins his ability to influence people, not simply control, though. You see, the Solar Plexus is analogous with the birth experience, or at least the break from the security of the womb. Like an explosion of the universe. When you are in bliss and then you're thrust into the void expanse of space.”

  Zolar paused to let it settle in while he buttered a piece of toast.

  “This morning he was born, “ he continued, using the butter knife for punctuation. “People who see him will be more aware of him than they are of everyone else, although they won't know why. Unconsciously, they will recognize him as being truly alive. It's like the difference between seeing someone on TV and then meeting them in person. He will appear to be greater than other life energies around him. Everyone else will seem like mere shadows of life while he is substance.”

  “But you said the three of us are keys that will help to open these centers.” Bernie interrupted. “Let me see if I've got it right. There are seven centers. We just experienced the opening of the Solar Plexus. The next one is the Sex Center.” Bernie turned and raised his eyebrows at Jackie.

  “Actually the center is at the base of the spine and works through the regeneration of life,” Zolar clarified.

  “Okay, okay. Let's call it the sex center, anyway. That's the key that will open it, right? Sex?”

  Zolar nodded. “Right. Then, next, you have the Spleen Center, which is the center that creates destructive forces. It both destroys and creates. It's sort of like an alternator on a car, or an amplifier on a stereo: It takes existing energy and transmutes it; since neither matter nor energy can be created or destroyed it only changes. This opening will help him regulate these energies. It is the seat of emotions also, particularly passion.” Zolar paused, not wanting to go into too much detail which would confuse them; besides they would learn soon enough.

  “Then the heart?” Bernie asked. “That's the love center.” He grinned at Jackie.

  “I don't think that's where your love center is,” she cut back.

  “Aren't you quick!” Bernie said, surprised.

  “You probably are too.” She smiled at the look on his face.

  “Come on, guys,” Zolar interrupted. “Let's try to be a little serious.”

  Bernie nodded in agreement, as did Jackie, while she wondered at how easy it was to talk with these two men she hardly knew.

  “Okay, thanks, guys,” Zolar continued. “The Heart Center is the maintainer of life. It's the one that joins the emotions to the intellect. It is the center of the centers, so to speak. It joins all of the centers together to create the entire body of the Avatar.

  “Next is the Throat Center, or thyroid area. This communicates the will of the other centers, and sets them into action. It takes the transmuted energy supplied by the Spleen Center and shapes it. The thyroid works in conjunction with thymus; both lie in the anterior of the chest, near the voice box. The thymus controls the total amount of energy just as it does in the body itself. It also helps the immune system. Who knows, this may be the key to defeating cancer, AIDS or any number of infectious diseases. This center makes the sound, or sets the vibration pattern which shapes and builds the energy.”

  “The next centers involve the pineal gland and the pituitary gland which are in the head. The pineal gland is the eye, or the “third eye” as it is usually recognized. It's the Intuition and Intellectual Center.”

  “Finally, the pituitary center in the top of the head. It is considered the soul center, or as I call it, the Spiritual Center.”

  Zolar paused for a moment. “I know this is pretty complicated, but it's not as confusing as you might think.”

  “What about us?” Jackie quizzed. “Which centers are we supposed to be the key to? Can't we just avoid all of this--hideout or something?”

  “There's no way to avoid it.” Zolar shrugged. “We probably won't even know who the Avatar is, until our key is used to open his center. I've been trained by the Tibetans, and even I can't recognize the others only the ones that are in conjunction with my center. The Tibetans provided me with records, and even so, I still felt lucky to have found you two. You see, I'm attuned to your particular note. Jackie, don't look at me like I'm crazy. Everyone has a different note, or to be more precise, a vibration which is unique to only that person, like fingerprints or DNA. Well, our unique notes of the seven centers--are the notes used to open centers within the Avatar. We are the notes, and in total, we are the centers too. One of those unity things, like the trinity.

  “There have been a lot of groups that have been teaching of his coming. Many of these have kept records that correlate energy explosions in the universe, such as a supernova, a dying star--or even the star of Bethlehem. The Avatar was predicted, by the Bible, the Koran, the Talmud, scores of them. They all say similar things about it.”

  Zolar paused and cleared his throat with a sip of coffee. He knew how confused they must be feeling; he had once felt the same way.

  “The Bible, refers to his number as 666. I haven't figured this one out yet, but I was taught that the Avatar was the 666th descendant of Cain. Cain's genealogy has supposedly been traced by many of these religions, and they have calculated he was born thirty years ago, on the first of July.”

  “What?” Jackie interjected. “But so was I, and last night you said so were you and Bernie. Are you saying it's one of us? One of us is the Anti-Christ?”

  “No, Jackie, and yet the answer is also yes. We also are part of him. By ourselves we are nothing, but as a group we are him.”

  “No offense, Zolar,” Jackie said. “But it sounds crazy. Revelations talks about how those with knowledge can decipher the number of the beast.” She paused thinking about what he had just said. “But--but everyone has pointed fingers for hundreds of years, saying he's the Anti-Christ or that one's the Anti-Christ. They used all kinds of logic trying to determine what 666 means. They came up with some winners too.” She shook her head, set her coffee cup down harder than she expected, and splashed the table. “I guess your explanation is as good as anyone.... But why would you refer to Revelations and the Anti-Christ, Zolar? I thought the Avatar was supposed to be bringing good to the world, to be a messiah? How can he be both messiah and anti-Christ at the same time?”

  “That's a little complicated; bear with me while I stay on track, and I'll get to that in just a minute. There's more about ancestry; you, I and Bernie are supposedly descendants of Abel...”

  “Wait a minute--if you use that logic, then so is everyone.” Jackie argued, and turned to Bernie help. Bernie just sat there quietly, trying to digest everything.

  “What you are saying is essentially true but, and I use the word supposedly, the rest of the population's genealogy ha
s intermingled, or came from Adam and Eve's other children. The Bible even speaks of another brother, called Seth. The groups claim they have maintained records of every generation. Now, Jackie, I'll try to answer your question about good and evil. Here's the hardest part to swallow.

  “Adam and Eve, like Cain and Abel, are symbolic of good and evil, or the marriage of the spirit with the flesh. The soul comes into the material world--the flesh--and lives. There's an ancient saying, 'as above, so below'. What is manifest on the spiritual plane is the same as that in the physical plane. For every action there is an equal an opposite reaction. The symbolism of Cain and Abel is one of Christ and the Devil, good and evil, Yin and Yang, or positive and negative. They are both a creation of the supreme being: in the example of Cain and Abel, evil murders good. Satan killed Christ, or at least he had the people kill Christ. God kicked Lucifer out of heaven. Satan entered Eve's mind and caused them to be kicked out of Paradise. It goes on and on. It's a constant war, a constant tension, yet, perhaps, a balance, between good and evil.”

  Jackie threw her hands into the air in exasperation. “All right, that's it! This is just too much for me. Too much at one time. What are we going to do now?”

  “Calm down, Jackie,” Bernie soothed. “Let's just take it one step at a time.”

  “I'm sorry, Jackie,” Zolar said. “I know it's too much at once. Bernie's right. Let's take it as it goes.”

  “What we have to do is get you some clothes,” Bernie said, changing the subject as he watched Jackie. She had been through enough to make anybody go a little off--although she seemed made of pretty strong stuff.

  “I'm sorry, guys. I'm okay.” Jackie responded to them. “You're right, I do need some clothes.”

  “Don't worry about clothes. I'll buy you some.” Bernie said. “The main thing is for us to stay close together through all of this.”

  “Jackie, I agree with Bernie. We need to stick together for a while. It will help give us the support we need. Can you get off from work for a few days?”