The Seventh Chakra

by J. R. Bowles

  “Damn, damn, damn!” Bernie cursed as he continued to pace the floor. “Why the hell hasn't she at least called?”

  “I don't know,” Zolar reiterated patiently for what seemed to him the millionth time. “She's okay, Bernie.”

  “It's after four and nothing. She better be dead or I'm going to kill her—she could have called, that's the least she could do.” Bernie threatened and sat down again, fidgeting.

  Zolar knew she was safe; he was more concerned with other matters at the present time. He was beginning to doubt where all of this was taking them.

  Had he been wrong? Was it possible the power being unleashed was evil? He had tried to remain calm in front of Bernie and Jackie and present the appearance of self assurance, but he was beginning to waver.

  His Master had always received his information psychically from the Tibetans. His own psychic ability was very limited. Rarely did he ever receive verbal information; it was usually in the form of vague images and impressions. Could he have misinterpreted them?

  His Master had also been his adoptive father. His mother had died while delivering him. His mother was to have been the bride of a soldier who had returned with her to the States and settled in Virginia, promising to marry her, but they found that Virginia's laws at that time prohibited him a Caucasian, from marrying an Asian woman. His father had disappeared after his mother's death and he had been adopted by a couple who had both been professors at Roanoke College and studied the eastern religions. They journeyed to Tibet and studied under the masters there, becoming masters themselves. Their particular interest was the laws of energy throughout the universe and their relations to human existence. All this knowledge had been given to Zolar as he grew up; he had not known then it was preparing him for the responsibility that now weighed heavily upon him.

  Now, with all the powerful energies bursting forth, Zolar was feeling somewhat insecure, even a little afraid. This might be more than he could handle—or even comprehend.

  What if this man was evil? he considered. He had wondered about the two deaths that had occurred in the hotel—he had heard how peculiar they were. What if the Avatar had been involved?

  “Are you listening to me?” Bernie complained again as he resumed his pacing.

  Zolar managed only a grunt in reply.

  CHAPTER 35

  Throbbing temples. The concentration he had to use to redirect the energy that opened the centers drained him to the point it had felt as if it would kill him. Michael O'Malley rubbed at his.

  It was fortunate he was rich enough to have the oil tanker fake the fire. Money is power, he mused--but nothing like the real power John was developing. All of them had the power of the centers. They had each been born with it, but most of them didn't know they had it or how to use it until their centers opened. Even though he had been substituted he still had his power. But the combined power John would achieve would be beyond control.

  Michael went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He thought his own image seemed unreal, wavering as though no more than liquid, his own substance insubstantial.

  The next opening should be one of destruction; he had to prepare for it. After this, John would become dangerous.

  He had faked the fire to draw him away from the black man. Perhaps John would learn to control himself through the communications, and the destructive force wouldn't be so deadly. That had been the reason he had redirected the opening. He would have to watch John and judge him to see if he misused the power.

  Yes, Michael nodded at his image, the black man was next. Michael knew all of them: All of the people who would be openings. His Grandfather had bought the information many years ago.

  He would have liked to have seen the preacher’s face when he received the money he had sent. The man had never seen so much money at one time. Michael almost smiled at the thought. He had hoped he would follow the directions and move into the Castleton.

  He sighed; all of those years, while he had amnesia, his detectives had continued to keep track of each one of the people involved. Money was all it took; when he called them, they told him where each person was. He wondered if the detectives had thought it strange, that these people were to be followed twenty-four hours a day for all of these years. Hell, why did it matter what they thought? They did it for the money.

  He had worried about how he was going to get the black man into the hotel without him becoming suspicious, but the Indian woman had solved his problem.

  His detectives were checking into her background. Surely she wasn't involved, but he was going to have her checked out. Better safe than sorry.

  He didn't know when John would come back to the hotel, but he would follow the black man. That way, when the next center opened, he would be there. Yes, the black man was to be next.

  CHAPTER 36

  His stomach rumbled from hunger; no wonder--he hadn't eaten all day. Thomas rubbed the stubble on his face realizing, he hadn't shaved or bathed either. He still sat naked. Over and over he kept thinking about Becky.

  Angel--was she really an Angel? Did Angels share carnal knowledge with man? He didn't think so.

  He remembered the passage in the Bible about Lucifer's Angels coming to earth and fornicating with man. Yes, the woman had probably been one of Lucifer's Angels. The women were called “succubus” or was that “incubus,” stalactites hang tight and stalagmites stand with might, yes that was it: succubus like to suck, while incubus stuck it in. That was the way he remembered it.

  When the last vision had occurred he had screamed out loud as the sound had kept drumming in his head. He felt as if he were losing his mind. He had contemplated killing himself, but he couldn't, God might forgive the fornication but never suicide.

  But as he had sat there alone, sometimes praying, sometimes staring off into space he had come to the conclusion it was time to act. He would use the money that had been given to him, even if it came from the devil himself and he had figured that was exactly the source from which it came.

  He would find the Beast and he would destroy him.

  * * *

  Morgan pulled the sheet up to her chin. She had waited all day in her room for John to call. She knew he would. That was the way he was, ever so gentlemanly, even though he had been frightened and sickened by their sexual union. She knew that would happen; her parents had prepared her for it.

  She thought about the woman she had replaced. Her parents had arranged everything. They had paid the girl's grandfather to steal the birth documents and to mislead the girl--the full blooded Cherokee girl who was to have been the sexual opening. But the girl's parents had ascertained she had too much hate in her. She wondered how the girl's grandfather had done it, why she hadn't known what was happening and where she was now.

  She had been shocked when Michael O'Malley had appeared; her parents had told her he was dead. What role was he playing? She knew he was somehow connected with the change in the order of openings of the centers. The spleen should have been next, but it wasn't. How was this going to affect everything?

  There were still four of them left; the Jew, the African, the Oriental, and the other Anglos were yet to come. She was lucky she had some Indian blood or she would never have been able to be a substitute.

  She understood how she was mentally linked with Jackie and Billy, and how they were all connected. She didn't understand why there had been three pure Anglos, but now she did. The Anglos were the dominating force of modern history so far, with their greed to control the planet. That was why there were three, because they each represented different fractions of the Anglos race.

  And then there was John! He was truly magnificent. It was all up to him now. How would John use the power he was gathering? Only the last opening would tell for sure.

  V. THE FOURTH CHAKRA

  VISSUDDHA THE THROAT

  All which exist is in motion, from the atoms to the galaxies, nothing stands still. It is the throat ce
nter which sends forth the vibratory pattern, shaping and forming the energy, setting it forth in the Universal Plan. As does the thought crystallizes in motioned image, the throat shall send it forth.

  THE DOCTRINE OF THE CHAKRA CENTERS by Tawadin Djwahan

  CHAPTER 37

  Michael sat in the lobby waiting for Jamal. He had been there since eight and it was now three in the afternoon.

  “Mr. O'Malley, are you sure I can't order you something to eat? You've missed lunch, and you need nourishment to maintain such a big frame.” Rudy the desk clerk once again fawned over Michael.

  It was obvious to Michael what Rudy wanted but he felt only amused tolerance. “No thank you Rudy, I'm fine. I don't expect to be here much longer anyway.”

  Well, if there's anything I can do call me. I'm here until four.” Rudy added with delicate emphasis.

  Michael shrugged wordlessly and forced himself to smile. He had just glanced at his watch for the thousandth time when Jamal and the Indian girl got off the elevator.

  Finally, he thought. Michael had hired a car so he could follow them if they got a taxi; it would be waiting across the street. If they used a bus or the subway he would follow them on foot. He followed them as they left the hotel, making sure he kept far enough back that they wouldn't notice him.

  Rudy had just clocked off his shift and noticed Mr. O'Malley was no longer sitting in the lobby. When he looked around to see if he could spot him he noticed he was just passing through the revolving door.

  Since the day Michael O'Malley had checked in a lot of strange things had happened. Most likely they were coincidence, but the fact he had shown up looking like an indigent, and then suddenly displayed excessive wealth over the past several days, was intriguing. Rudy was always fascinated by those sorts of things. He couldn't help sticking his nose in other people's business; that's just the way he was. He even went so far as to check O'Malley's phone bill. All those long-distance calls to London, South Africa, and Japan; he had converted his charges to an unlimited charge card. There had been rumors among the staff that he owned a large percentage of the chain, but he wasn't able to verify it. It might be fun to follow him, he thought.

  * * *

  Azid had been sitting on the sidewalk across from the Castleton all morning. He had been sitting there all morning. He had spent most of yesterday following Jamal, and had returned this morning to see what Jamal was up to.

  Jamal had called last night, checking in to see how everything was, and he had tried to question him on what he was doing. “I'm just taking a vacation to get me a little tail. I think I deserve it. Is that okay with you?” Jamal had said irritably.

  He didn't know what was up, but Jamal seemed different, distant and standoffish. When he had tried to question him about the white man, Jamal had told him don't worry about it; that was exactly what he was doing, keeping an eye on the man.

  First Jamal had told him it was for some ass; then he said it was to watch the man. Jamal was up to something, and he was determined to find out what. Jamal seemed too preoccupied with this white man; something was wrong, very wrong.

  Azid was just ready to leave for the evening when Jamal and the girl left the hotel, walking south. He stayed across the street and followed them. After several blocks he noticed Jamal and the girl were also being followed by a white man, and that man was being followed by another white man.

  Azid felt comfort from the knife he kept strapped to his ankle. If Jamal had any problems he would be ready; Jamal could depend on him.

  Azid didn't mind the girl, but if the other white man showed up he just didn't know about that.

  * * *

  “Jamal, where are we going?” Mindy asked, knowing that since Jamal would be the next center, she shouldn't try to lead him, but should allow him to pick and choose the way. He would be in the right place at the right time. He didn't even realize it, but even if he did, it still wouldn't matter. No matter where he went it would happen.

  “I thought we would just walk around, maybe go over to the Village. I'd like to show you the sights, baby.” Jamal took Mindy's hand. He felt good. He hadn't felt this content in years, since his last girlfriend had died of an overdose.

  They spent the day wandering around the Village, down past the World Trade Center and ended up in Battery Park. Jamal insisted they go over to the Statue of Liberty. Of course Mindy had paid for everything: Their dinner in a small quaint café in the Village, and then their ferry ride to the statue.

  * * *

  Michael had continued to follow them throughout the day, so intent on his task he never noticed he was being followed, in turn not by one person but two. He stayed as close to the couple as possible without them becoming suspicious.

  * * *

  Rudy was getting tired; it was almost eleven. He had started to approach Michael a couple of times to just “accidentally” run into him, but he had realized Michael was following the black man and his girlfriend. His curiosity made him wait to see why. Something very strange was happening, and he was determined to find out what. He wondered if it had anything to do with his friend who worked the night shift dying or the man in the elevator. There were quite a few strange people checking into the hotel—stranger than usual—and they were all staying on the second floor.

  He had sat in the park while they went over to the statue. He knew they would be back; the ferry boat embarked and returned to the same place. His feet were getting tired and he found himself a bench in sight of the terminal and waited there for them to return.

  * * *

  Azid stood in the shadows watching his quarry leave for Liberty Island. One white man got on the boat; the other one found a bench and was waiting. At first he had thought the two men were both on the tail; then he realized the second one was just a gay who had been following the first one. But what the first one was up to, he still wasn't sure.

  * * *

  Billy looked down at Jackie, still asleep. It was almost eleven and she had slept since her center had opened. John had left early but had told Billy to watch over Jackie, and that he wanted a full explanation of what was going on as soon as he returned.

  Jackie groaned and opened her eyes; she felt comforted seeing Billy there. She now shared his secret along with Morgan.

  Jackie went silently to the bathroom and refreshed herself in a long comforting shower; as soon as she came out John had returned from his long day. Neither Jackie nor Billy had eaten that day; although she had slept, she was feeling hunger pains which physically hurt.

  “Well Billy, what's going on?” John said as soon as he entered.

  Jackie saw Billy hesitate and quickly said, “Can we go get something to eat? I'm starving.”

  “I'm sorry,” John said, “where are my manners? You haven't eaten all day?”

  “Me neither, boss,” Billy added.

  “Jackie, have you been asleep all day?” John asked, noticing Jackie yawn.

  “How did you guess?” She smiled.

  “We've just got time to catch the 11:15 boat into the city,” Billy said.

  They silently got into Billy's truck and drove on to the ferry boat. As they sat in the truck John again asked. “Well, Billy, start talking. Tell me what's going on.”

  “Can we wait till we eat?” Jackie intervened. “We can tell you while we eat.”

  Billy sighed, and started his engine as soon as the ferry boat docked on the Manhattan side.

  “How about some of Ray's world famous pizza?” Jackie asked.

  “Sounds good to me,” Billy agreed. “Let me pull out of here and I'll circle the block and come back down to it. You have to take a right here, “ Billy explained to John, “and then you go up, go left and then come back down. Actually the pizza joint is right at the South Ferry subway terminal.” Billy pointed to his left. “You can see it from here; of course, the hard thing is finding a place to park over there.”

  But they were in luck and found a place to park. They each ordered two slices of chees
e pizza and a soda.

  “Let's sit over in the park and have our pizza.” Jackie suggested.

  “Yeah,” Billy agreed. “Then I can fill you in on everything I know, John.”

  “Okay by me.”

  They chose a bench near the spot where the Liberty Island ferry boat tied up and began to eat.

  They sat there for a few minutes staring out across the black water, Ms. Liberty shining brightly as always with her image wavering in fragments of reflected light.

  The Liberty Island ferry boat pulled closer to the dock and then the lines from her aft and stern were thrown out to tie her up.

  As John sat there waiting for the others to satisfy their hunger so he could get an explanation, he saw his friend Michael O'Malley getting off the ferry boat. He didn't pay any attention to the couple who were in front of Michael.

  “Michael,” John called out. Jackie turned to Billy and nodded. Billy nodded in understanding.

  Michael looked up to see if someone was calling him; Michael was a common name. Then he heard “Michael, Michael O'Malley, hey–over here.”

  John started to walk over to greet Michael--and stopped short. The couple in front of Michael came to a stop in front of John.

  Jamal looked into John's eyes. He hadn't been this close to the man before, but even in the street light glare from the park he could tell there was something unusual about him.

  “Yes.” Mindy thought, face to face.

  As Azid stood in the shadow he couldn't hear anything. He could only see the white man confront Jamal. He was keyed up, taunt with tension from his long vigil.