The Seventh Chakra

by J. R. Bowles

  The black man stopped in front of John and looked directly into John's eyes. John started to dismiss the feeling of familiarity he felt toward the man, but as he stood there, the feeling increased in intensity. Do I know him?

  John extended his hand in greeting to the man and started to introduce himself.

  Azid saw the white man's arm move toward Jamal and with swift reflexes pulled his knife from his anklet sheath. He was behind John before anyone realized from where he had appeared.

  John glanced over Jamal's shoulder at Michael's terrified face and wondered what was wrong.

  Billy jumped from the bench as he spied Azid darting forth with the knife. He recognized the dangerous potential of what was happening.

  At the same moment, Jamal saw Azid coming toward the white man. “Azid!” He shouted in protest.

  But Azid interpreted the shout as encouragement; and he and his blade were one, intent on the white man's back.

  Jamal shoved John aside as hard as he could just as Azid's blade touched John's flesh. John's shirt slit under the blade's sharp edge as it sliced a long gash from the middle of John's lower back around his side.

  Azid's weight and momentum continued with the inertia and his blade didn't stop until its full length entered Jamal's gut.

  Jamal fell to the ground across John's unconscious body.

  The world began to fade before the eyes of all of the onlookers. All were being drawn into the vortex of John's energy center spinning open. Even Azid, the assailant, and Rudy who still watched the scene from the bench as it unfolded were pulled along into the opening.

  As Mindy stared down at Jamal and the world faded, she smiled.

  From across town Morgan, Bernie, Zolar and the Reverend Thomas Lamb experienced their invisible connection.

  Once again, John was alone in the center of the universal nothingness. He felt as if his very being were being split in half; as if the pain was tearing him apart. With each division of himself, he was no longer alone--but was now two, and then four, and then more.

  He was being torn into fragments, but he continued to cling to a fragment of himself for fear of being alone again.

  His mind became fragmented, each part began to think on its own. Each aspect of himself began to live--and they forgot who they had been. As the fragments began to view the whole, each part became limited to its own perception of where it was when it separated. All concept of his previous wholeness vanished.

  But then parts of him wanted to become all of him again, and while other parts did not. The parts began to fight to control the whole; finally he cast away all those parts of him which fought. The stillness around him was shattered as he cast that which had been him out and again he exploded into nothingness—for there was only him. It all repeated over and over....

  CHAPTER 38

  “Captain--come quick,” a sailor from the Liberty ferry boat called. As the Captain came out he surveyed the collapsed bodies on the dock and one man on the gangway.

  The Captain and his first mate started down the gangplank just as the man slumped there stirred to consciousness.

  Michael raised his head as he heard the vibration of their feet hit the metal plank. He scanned the area and counted five people on the ground, and a girl on the bench; all apparently were still unconscious.

  He knew John was not seriously hurt, for it would take something more extreme to do him any great damage, but he was unsure about Jamal. He had seen the knife enter Jamal just before he blacked out.

  Michael managed to step over the Indian girl and rolled Jamal off John. The knife remained stuck in Jamal and he was losing blood; his breathing was shallow and his skin was clammy from shock.

  As Michael examined Jamal, John began to groan.

  “John,” Michael said, “this man is dying—you must help him. “

  The realization of what had happened began to sink into John's groggy mind.

  “Michael, what can I do?”

  “When I pull the knife out, place your hand on the wound and order it to heal itself.”

  John looked at Michael as if the poor man had gone daft. “Michael, I think we had better call an ambulance.”

  “I'll call one from the boat's radio.” The ferry boat captain offered, running back up the gangway.

  “John, he doesn't have that much time. He'll be dead before they get an ambulance here. Just do what I tell you,” Michael ordered.

  John shrugged but then nodded. At this point what damage could he do? It was quite apparent by just looking at the man that he was close to death—if he died did he really care? John wasn't sure.

  Michael pulled the knife out. “Now, John, place your hand over the wound and tell it to heal.”

  John complied, feeling confused and a little foolish about Michael's belief that he could do such a thing. But everything had suddenly become unreal—and this was certainly no stranger than what had been happening to him over the past several days.

  “Heal!” John spoke evenly as he placed his hand on Jamal's open, bleeding wound.

  John's hand began to tingle as if a million needles were being stuck into it. Jamal's hard muscular stomach felt as if it were water, and John could see down into Jamal as if every cell in Jamal had become transparent. Michael could feel the energy John was drawing from him to perform this miracle. Yes, that was the word, Michael thought; he is taking my faith in him, utilizing my energy and combining it with his own energy, and healing him. Although he told himself it wasn't a real miracle--John was just using the energy of the universe to correct the problem.

  As John looked down into Jamal, he could see the transparent cells realigning themselves as if they were in a vibratory symphony, dancing to his vocalization of the word heal.

  As John leaned over Jamal, Michael saw Jamal's eyes open and look up at John; something passed between them. Jamal glanced at Michael with his new understanding of what was happening to him.

  When John removed his hand, there was no longer a hole in Jamal; the skin was smooth and he hadn't even left a scar.

  John stared aghast, first at Jamal and then at Michael.

  Michael looked over the others, saw that they were still unconscious and warned, “We can't tell them, not yet.”

  John stood up, walked blindly over to where Jackie still slumped over on the bench, and sat down, staring off into the darkness.

  Michael yelled up to the Captain to cancel the call for the ambulance—everything was okay.

  Michael then went around and roused each of the others. He looked around and saw another person prone on a bench, away from the group. He decided he had better check him out to see if it was just someone sleeping in the park, or someone who observed what had happened and been drawn into it.

  When Michael approached the bench he groaned. Rudy, he thought, that damn little peacock, what the hell was he doing here? He must have followed him and had been witness to the whole thing. “Wake up.” Michael prodded the man. “You're coming with us.”

  Rudy looked up and smiled and thought, anytime sugar. Then he remembered what he had witnessed and sat up, shivering nervously, but remained silent.

  When Billy regained his senses, he saw Michael had been busy taking care of everything—but Michael was looking severely fatigued. Billy wasn't sure what was happening to Michael but figured he had better take control; no one else seemed to have any idea what to do. He almost started laughing as he thought they looked like a bunch of lost sheep—each one seemed more confused than the next.

  Billy went to them one by one, told them to get into his truck and pointed them in that direction. They started following, one after the other, all silent but obeying Billy's commands.

  When they got to the truck he directed John and Jackie into the cab, and assisted each of the others into the truck bed.

  “Sit down,” he ordered. “We're going uptown to a hotel. We can all recover there.”

  Jamal sat with his arm around Mindy; Azid sat beside Jamal. Michael helped
Rudy scoot in, and then flopped down beside him.

  Billy got behind the wheel and started it up. “Hold on. I'll take it slow,” he yelled back to the group.

  John sat beside Jackie, his expression blank. Jackie had taken his hand in hers and was using her other hand to stroke the back of his hand.

  “It's okay, John,” she soothed as he sat there seemingly unhearing, between them.

  CHAPTER 39

  Thomas slumped over the porcelain bowl. After he regained consciousness he had thrown up. What was he going to do? He didn't think he could handle anymore of these visions. He hoped his plan worked. He had spent all of yesterday formulating it. He had used the devil's own money which he had received, and had placed an add in the New York Times. He wanted to draw the Beast out. He didn't know what else he could do but he would at least try.

  His add had read, “Each night at midnight I have joined with you and now it's time for us to meet. I will be front of Macy's at twelve noon today. I think you will know me.” The add would be a small block on the third page of the front section and he felt it would be noticed.

  Thousands would probably pass him on the street and millions more would read the add and wonder how strange it was. Some would probably turn out on the street just to see if they could figure it out. He shrugged, it didn't matter how many showed and he might not be able to tell who the beast was but he felt he would be able to recognize the beast after all he had experienced so far.

  He ran the names of the people over in his head. Billy, Morgan, Jackie and Jamal, why was each one of these names given when he had one of the visions. He knew the Beast was involved but it all seemed so strange. The blasphemy that each vision had displayed was a sacrilege to his Lord Jesus Christ.

  And the evil of the succubus, Becky, why had that occurred. Had the Beast sent her, or it, he corrected himself for those dark angels had no gender. Why had she been important? She was quit lovely, he thought.

  He shook his entire body. Where had that thought come from? Was he becoming a degenerate.

  As he shifted his weight from the porcelain bowl he saw a swift shadow with his peripheral vision dart quickly past. His heart thumped rapidly and he jerked his head around to see what was there.

  Nothing. It was his imagination. He sighed and slumped down to where he was sitting on his legs. Again he saw the reflection of an erect shadow image move across the medicine cabinet mirror but this time he moved slowly to stare at the mirror.

  Again nothing was there.

  As he sat there looking at the mirror he felt as if someone or something was standing behind him.

  He whipped around expecting to see Becky, his succubus.

  Nothing! Damn it he was being driven crazy.

  He pushed himself to a standing position and stumbled through the half lit room to his bed.

  He had to get some rest for he had to be in front of Macy's by noon.

  As he laid down he formulated his plan. When he had identified the Beast he would recite the scripture which had come to him in his dream. He thought about the verse and he felt sure this would vanish the Beast back to the pit from which he had came.

  “Get the hence Satan.” He repeated aloud as he drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 40

  Bernie shivered and got up to check the rooms thermostat. Seventy, that was comfortable, he told himself. He glanced over at Zolar, who was sprawled out on the couch, still sleeping.

  Let him sleep, he thought, he wished he could sleep but he couldn’t seem to make his mind rest. He was tired but he was worried. That last opening had been awful. He was nauseous and had called room service for some milk and crackers to help settle his stomach.

  Why hadn’t they heard from Jackie?

  He told himself, he shouldn’t worry so much about her but he couldn’t help it. He had grown attached to her. Attached, was that the word? It was more like love but he didn’t want to admit it. What would his mother think of a white bread girl? After all they had experienced together it was no wonder the bond had developed so rapidly.

  There was a knock at the door and Bernie answered it.

  The room service boy delivered his milk and crackers and gave him the morning paper. Bernie glanced at his watch, it was almost three a.m., he hadn’t realized how early the first edition was printed. Bernie thanked him and gave him a tip but as he was ready to close the door, the elevator opened and a large group of people got off. Being from New York, Bernie had learned not to stare directly at people to find out what was going on but had developed the fine art of quick glance observation with a brief flick of the eye.

  With his short glance before he shut the door Bernie didn't ascertain very much nor was he able to see the entire group of people but he did feel that something was familiar with the group. Although they were silent, to silent to have been partying, he felt something was strange about them.

  He sat down to his milk and crackers and began reading the paper in hopes it would take his mind away from his worries. As he skimmed the paper he came to an add, a very unusual add:

  Each night at midnight I have Joined with you and now it's time for us to meet. I will be in front of Macy's at twelve noon today. I think you will know me.

  He read and reread it. Was it possible, was it one of the other centers? His heart began to beat rapidly. He thought for a moment, four centers already had opened so that meant there were only three left. He and Zolar and one other. Was it possible this was from the other person?

  Or could it be a lure from the Avatar. He still wondered how Jackie had met this Avatar. She had gone to her ship and then the phone call they had received before her center opened was the last they heard. It had been short and even at the time he had the impression she wasn't alone. She seemed to be stifling her conversation, so he hadn't pressed her to where she was. He wished he had, damn him to hell, he sure wished he had. Zolar had kept assuring him that she was okay but since he hadn't heard from her, he was afraid she had been kidnapped again.

  Maybe he should go to Macy' s today and see. Could he recognize another center? He was sure Zolar could but he didn't want to tell him. If it wasn't the center but was the people who took Jackie maybe they would take him too and he didn't want to jeopardize Zolar.

  At first he had thought the black man who had taken Jackie before had taken her again but after the last center opened several hours ago he knew it wasn't. That opening had been the black man, Jamal.

  It was strange that after each person was used he knew their name, but only their first name as if their name was part of the key to the opening. Perhaps it was the vibration of the sound of their name that caused it.

  Bernie shook his head as if to get rid of the thought. God, I'm starting to talk like Zolar, he accused himself.

  Yes now he knew their names, Billy had been the first, the Solar Plexus, the giver of life. Then there was Morgan, the sex center, that was procreation. His sweet Jackie the third. It had been so obvious, she was in to communication, they should have realized she would be the Throat Center. Then the one that just happened, Jamal, the spleen, the destructive force.

  He laughed, he hoped the N double A, C, P, didn't find out, they would say that Jamal had been type cast. He had to get some rest he was beginning to get punchy and he had a lot to do today. He would go to the meeting unless he heard from Jackie first.

  After Jackie's center opened he realized which center he would be. He was definitely going to have a long day, because he would be the next one. He would be the Heart Center. It was so obvious, Jackie was communications it was obvious that he would be the Heart Center.

  He smiled, neither Jackie nor Zolar had ask him what type of work he did. The subject just never came up. He knew what Jackie did for a living but he didn't know about Zolar. He wondered.

  He didn't want to ask Zolar now because then Zolar would ask him what he did. He wasn't ashamed of what he did and his mother love to brag to all her friends and was always trying to fix him up with a “
nice Jewish girl.”

  He could just here his mother telling some woman, “Honey, you got to meet my son the doctor,” and then she would pause for effect and smile “he's a heart specialist.”

  He stared at the add again. It would be at noon and in public. That should be safe, thirty four street was always crowded. Well anyway, he thought, at least it wasn't close to the witching hour.

  CHAPTER 41

  As the elevator opened to their floor Billy ushered everyone forward.

  “Straight ahead room 230.” He said as they exited. No one had said anything since the incident in Battery Park. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing but he knew he had to get John back to his room. John needed to rest.

  As they left the elevator a room service boy was headed toward the employee elevator on the other end of the passage. Billy sighed a relief of thanks that the group was quit. He noted that a door not far from the elevator closed as they were entering the hallway. He looked at Jackie and could see the fatigue in her eyes but she managed to force a smile for him. He returned her knowing smile.

  She now knew what was happening and was working with him to ensure there would be no problems.

  They were mentally connected now as he had become connected to Morgan. Now Jamal was also linked to them. Although all of the mental connections were weak and sometimes spasmodic but when they focused their thoughts they were able to relay, if not the words, then the very idea of what they needed to pass.

  Jamal and the Indian girl walked in front of them and Jackie held John's arm. The other black man just followed Jamal like a full grown dog follows it's master as if he obeyed silent commands Jamal may give him.

  He wasn't sure about Jamal yet, he had felt the hate which had festered in the black man and he wondered how this would affect his behavior toward John.

  The pretty Indian woman was as silent as the rest but her eyes seemed to be more alive than the others as if she were in a turmoil of thought, yet her face remained passive.