Chapter 20
Selecting ‘shut down’ from the start menu on her PC, Bonnie watched the screen go dark and picked up her bag to go home.
“G’night, have a great weekend,” she said as she marched past the big office on the left on the way out the door.
“You too Bonnie,” a voice came back.
The heat outside was full-on. It was only five, with almost four hours of daylight left. She guessed it was at least ninety degrees. The sun reflecting off the cars in the parking lot was so bright it was painful, the assault total. She hopped into her Toyota Cressida and turned it over turning on the AC immediately. Even though the seats were cloth, they were still hot on the backs of legs left bare by a skirt.
She undid the top button of her blouse and let out a sigh. She felt guilty for a second about not working late, since there was nobody to get home to, but then realized there was no point. Everything that needed doing was done. There was no sense becoming like Greg.
It was still shocking to her that Greg had gotten involved in a cult mythology that was the biggest bunch of hokey she had ever stumbled on in her life. They had done a good job of constructing a world that perfectly catered to Greg’s need for power and control. Now he wasn’t just a corporate big shot, he was the center of a religion, sought after as a prophet and visionary by warring groups. There was a time when he would have laughed at this kind of thing, but now, after years of dehumanizing himself in the pursuit of approval and money, and now that Big Brother had turned its back on him, he was easy pickings. She thought about calling the police, but Greg was an adult. The police couldn’t do anything. There was no way she could afford one of those high-priced consultants specializing in cult extractions. Almost missing the highway entrance ramp, she veered right sharply and got on.
Giving up on Greg was not an option, and she felt guilty for allowing the thought to cross her mind. There had to be a way for her to change his perspective. It was like a magic trick, what they had done to Greg, as if he had lost his ability to evaluate what he was seeing. On the surface, everything made sense. But everyone knows that you can’t produce a rabbit from a hat.
“Why can’t Greg see this stuff?” she thought.
Once she had talked to an amateur magician at a party who explained how magic tricks worked. Bonnie thought about what the forgotten stranger had said. She recalled he had said that the magician controls what the audience knows, and leads them to make inaccurate assumptions.
“The audience thinks they know what’s going on, but they don’t.”
The guy at the party had explained how somebody made the Statue of Liberty disappear one night in New York. She didn’t know if the fellow was right, but he had said that the magician, the camera filming the trick, and the entire audience, their seats and all, were on a motorized platform. The lights went off on Lady Liberty which was in the distance behind the magician. He did his shtick, alakazaam, and so on, as a cover for the platform doing a one-eighty. Fireworks went off, loud music played. Nobody noticed the slowly rotating platform. At the magician’s signal, the lights come up on a mock-up of the pedestal without the statue. Everyone is certain it’s gone, when in reality it is behind their backs.
The AC was starting to blow cold just as she pulled into the driveway. To keep from smoking too much she had left her cigarettes at home that day. She scooted into the house looking forward to a relaxing smoke and a glass of white wine.
There were no messages on the answering machine, and the mail was lackluster. It was very cool and dark in the house. She dropped her purse, keys, and skirt on the stairs and went back to the kitchen. She got out a packet of instant soup from the cabinet and put it on the counter. First things first. She poured a glass of Chablis and sat on the sofa to relax. The phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey nerd, what’s goin’ on?”
“Oh, it’s you,” Bonnie said. “Nothing much. Big plans tonight?”
“Uh-uh. I’m doing the eat-comfort-food-and-watch-Lifetime thing. Wanna join me?”
“Thanks Teddie, sounds exciting, but uh, I’m just gonna hang out here tonight,” Bonnie said.
“Waiting by the phone for Greg to call? Girl, he is not going to call. He’s lost it,” Teddie said.
“He came by and saw me a couple of nights ago. But that’s not why I want to stay home. He’s got my cell phone number, he can call me wherever. I just feel really thin, you know? Not like skinny thin, but thin like lace, like glass, like a loud sound would shatter me in pieces.”
“What did he say? How did it go?”
“It’s not cool,” Bonnie said slowly, “not cool at all. He’s...really lost right now, floundering around, you know...”
“Did you guys talk about getting back together?” Teddie asked.
“Nope. We have a ways to go before we can talk about that. We are...in two different realities right now. And to think that before he lost his job, we were talking about finally getting married. Now we’re on two different planets. Somehow we’re going to have to start seeing things the same way again. Not everything exactly the same, but at least the important stuff somewhat the same. It’s so hard...”
“I’m sorry sweetie. Ya know, I used to think he’d realize how perfect you are and come home,” Teddie said, “but now I’m not so sure.”
“I’ll never give up,” Bonnie said.
“But what if he’s changed? People change you know.”
“People don’t change,” Bonnie said seriously. “Their perspectives change. And when you change someone’s perspective, you change everything about them. How they think, what they believe, everything. Certain parts of them get weaker, sleeping parts wake up, but they don’t change deep down. What they were is still there. You just need to get their perspective back to the way it was.”
“Now you know why I call you ‘nerd’,” Teddie said. “That’s a little too deep for me. If what I see is different, I call it changed, plain and simple. So there’s no way I can talk you into coming over here for a few hours of chocolate and mindless TV?”
“I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood. You wouldn’t want me to come over and sit there like a bump, would you?”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Teddie said. “C’mon.”
“Jerk,” Bonnie said.
“Nerd,” Teddie said.
“How come you don’t have a date? It’s Friday night.”
“I’m seeing Frankie tomorrow night. Tonight’s his Dad’s birthday. He asked me to go, but I said no thanks. I’m not ready to meet the parents yet.”
“Do you love Frankie?” Bonnie asked.
“I don’t know.”
“How do you know you don’t know?”
“If I did,” Teddie said, “I would be sure. That’s what my Mom always told me. When you’re in love, you’ll know. I don’t know. But I like him a lot. That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, that’s good,” Bonnie said. “I want to meet him sometime.”
“You will, you will,” Teddie said. “Look, my phone’s about to go dead on me, so let me hang up before I get disconnected. If you get bored, just come by, okay? We can run out for donuts or something. Okay? Promise?”
“Sure, I promise,” Bonnie said. “If I get bored I’ll call. Bye Jerk.”
“Bye Nerd!”
Bonnie dropped the cordless phone on the sofa, her unlit cigarette still in her hand, her wine untouched.
Saying it out loud to Teddie was good, the thing about perspective. It was all about perspective. She lit her cigarette and tasted the wine. Greg’s perspective was all screwed up. She wished she could make him see things the way he saw them before. After all, that’s all any intervention is, like a family intervention for an addict. Everyone’s perspective just comes crashing in, and if it works, the addict has to accept a new way of looking at things.
They had rotated the bandstand on Greg and pu
t the Statue of Liberty behind his back. She admitted it would be hard to punch holes in what Greg had told her. But if she assumed it was indeed like a magic trick, she could assume there had to be a way to explain what Greg had told her.
It was all fabricated or imagined, but she wondered how. She remembered reading that people often felt the presence of others when having near death experiences. As for the toy car, that’s a separate magic trick of its own. If magicians can make tigers disappear from cages, surely one could make a toy car appear out of nowhere. Had Lucas done that? That was easy.
Going into the kitchen, she put the packet of soup back into the cabinet and made a pot of coffee instead. She smoked another cigarette and finished her glass of wine while the coffee dripped, filling the house with the smell of determination, study, and wakefulness. She could not stop thinking about making the Statue of Liberty disappear.
“It’s behind Greg’s back, it’s behind my back, and we can’t see it. This is not that complicated. C’mon girl, just turn around in your seat, and there’s Lady Liberty.”
When the coffee was ready she took the pot, a cup, and a pack of cigs out onto the patio and got to work on them. She admitted to herself that she was scared of Gator, scared by the things Greg had said. But by the time she had worked her way halfway down the pot of coffee she knew that she was more scared of losing Greg for good than she was of them.
Bonnie went inside and got into t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. She grabbed her keys and her purse, but before going out the door, she stopped and scheduled an email to go out on Monday if something happened to her, in case something went wrong.
to: [email protected]
from: [email protected]
subject: just in case
Hey Jerk --
Just in case I don't show up on Monday and everybody's looking for me I scheduled this email to go out. If you get this, something's wrong.
I'm going after Greg. He's gotten himself involved in some cult, and it might be dangerous and it might not. Two of the people in the group live in the house next door to the place where Greg grew up, the house on Batchelder St. I don't know their last names, but their first names are Lucas & Opal. And some guy has been snooping around the condo, a homeless person with long hair who pulls through the garbage. He wears a yellow and blue quilted flannel shirt all the time and he's got bizarre looking eyes.
If something has happened to me I'm sure it had to do with the people I just told you about. Give this email to the police and they'll find out what happened to me.
I'm sorry I couldn't come over and hang out with you tonight. If you're reading this email it means we probably won't have any chance of doing it another day. Just want you know that you've been a great friend and I love you. I wish I could type more but I have to get out of here while I still have the courage. You know I could type a phonebook full.
Hugs,
--Bonnie
She locked up the house and hopped in the Cressida.
Friday night in the height of summer and the streets were full of cruising kids and middle-aged men in convertibles, all looking for the same things. The moisture and the heat were a culture that proliferated all kinds of growth, good and bad. Grass, flowers, dripping willows in the little front yards and medians. Mischievous teens in tank tops and shorts could stay out all night long without a single goose bump. The pink and white streetlight glare of the suburbs steadily passed away as she left it behind and headed out into the country. On a two lane road marked 55 she hit fourth gear for the first time with all the windows down, the sounds of insects so loud in her ears that it could have been playing on the stereo at top volume but it wasn’t, it was coming in the windows, a hundred voices per square foot, a million square feet to an acre. She could smell honeysuckle, lavender, and mint, mowed grass, and diesel fuel. Bats and June bugs staggered through her high beams, in, out, gone.
It took all of half an hour to get there. She pulled up in front of the little clapboard redneck Shangri-la and jerked the handbrake, left the car unlocked with the windows open. She marched up to the front door and banged on it three times.
Lucas came to the door and opened it.
“They told me you were pretty, but it didn’t do no good. You’re so fine it hurts my eyes. You must be Bonnie. Come on in.”
“Thanks,” Bonnie said. She stepped inside onto the carpet and took in the simple room. It looked and smelled homey and comfortable. “I’m sorry I busted in on you like this. I was actually prepared to be really belligerent and pissed off, but I cooled down a little on the way over.”
“Pissed off? About what?” Lucas asked.
“Never mind,” she said. “I want to see Greg.”
“He ain’t here,” Lucas said. “But...”
“Okay, I take that back. I didn’t cool off on the way over. No messages, no blah-blah-blah, I want to see Greg. Immediately, as in right now...”
“Okay, okay, don’t get all bent out o’ shape,” Lucas said. “Me and Opal were just going to the club meeting. He might turn up there. You follow us over. Just give us a minute to lock up. I guess it’s time you met the group anyways.”
“I thought he was living with you and Opal?”
“He was. Things have changed.”
“Honestly, I really don’t want to meet your group. No offense, you seem like nice people, but I just want to talk to Greg. That’s all.”
“Well, it’s like this darlin’,” Lucas said. “There’s going to be a couple of fellows there whose job it is to make sure that nothing happens to Greg. And if anybody knows where he is, they will. That’s the best I can do. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll wait in my car,” Bonnie said.
She went back out and sat down behind the wheel, turned over the engine and rolled up the windows. This was so much easier than she thought, yet there was a peculiar tension building, and she kept wanting to look behind to see if someone was sneaking up on her. The windows being closed made it better. She turned on the AC. In a few moments Lucas and Opal appeared from around back of the house on board a Harley soft-tail built for cruising. As it came off the gravel onto the tarmac Bonnie eased in behind it and checked to be sure her high beams weren’t on. She noted the license plate on Lucas’ bike – ‘DFTR’ – and wondered what it meant, staring at it all the way to their destination.
The pulled onto a long driveway off the unmarked rural route and followed it past a farmhouse, whose windows all were dark, and stopped in front of a free-standing garage. Bonnie got out and followed Lucas and Opal across the packed dirt and gravel to the side door. Light showed around all four edges as well as through cracks in the miters.
Inside there were folding chairs, a crusty sofa, tool benches, and an old riding mower, each one holding a person. They all looked like castaways from a 50’s motorcycle drive-in movie. Vests, black t-shirts, leather chaps. But instead of being all in their twenties, Bonnie noticed that they were of all ages. Lucas seemed to be the oldest.
“Hey gang, this is Bonnie, Harold’s wife. Bonnie, meet the Legion of Kronos Motorcycle Club.”
She decided not to correct him on the fact that they weren’t married. She nodded to the group, who were all arranged so they were facing the side door. One lonely metal folding chair was set facing the others. Another one in the crowd sat empty waiting for Opal, who moved over and took it.
“Here Bonnie, you take my seat. Look guys, Bonnie is pretty upset, as I’m sure you can imagine, and she wants to see her man, and we are going to help her out with that. Bonnie, we are glad to help you, and we will. But first, we’d like to introduce ourselves to you, so you get a feel for who we are and what we are all about. Is that alright?”
“Sure,” she said. “What the heck, go ahead.”
“I’ll start. My name’s Lucas and I’m 54. I’m the Regent of the club, and I’m here because some years ago I realized t
hat life was about more than money and power and possessions, and I wanted to be part of a group of like-minded people. Now, somebody else go next. Say your name, your age, your title if any, and why you’re here.”
“I’m 32 years old and I’m Billy,” Billy said. “I’m here because I’ve been channeling a serial killer for about fifteen years, and after being in and out of jail most of my life, I found some people who didn’t think I was crazy for seeing the things I see. They don’t freak out when I start talking about wicked evil shit. By the way, you look so nice, I think green’s your color, Hefty bag green...”
“Thanks Billy,” Lucas said. “But remember the rules. Bonnie, we have four rules in this club: No swearing, no hate speech, no drugs or alcohol, and no lies. Billy has a problem with the swearing part. Who’s next?”
“I’m Jigsaw and I’m 30. Master of Starry Wisdom. I am the keeper of our book of knowledge. I’m here because I used to think I was crazy because I saw all these connections between the various religious and occult traditions from around the world, and I wanted to find some people who valued what I knew. Thanks for listening.”
“Cantrell, Master of Ring and Key. I keep track of membership and finances. I started coming here for the addiction support, but I stayed for the whole picture. Clean and sober thirty years. Thanks for coming.”
“I’m Tonya, I read Tarot cards and do palmistry for the group. Blessed be.”
“Monty here. I fell in with this bunch of characters when I was a grad student at Mississippi State University debunking occult phenomena. I got an email from Jigsaw and the rest is history. Great to meet you.”
“I’m Opal. We’ve met. You know me already don’t you honey?”
“Yes Opal, thank you,” Bonnie said, unashamed of the impatience in her voice. The situation was uncomfortable, eerie, and she was not getting any closer to seeing Greg. She was squirming, and she wanted this to stop; and yet, one by one these strange and broken people were standing up and announcing themselves to her with what seemed to be complete honesty and openness.
“I’m Frank, pleased to meet you Bonnie. I had a moto-cross accident, got addicted to painkillers, and came to the group for support. I found it. Thanks for coming.”
“I’m Charity, and I’m 22. I’m a recovering sex addict, and I’m here because it’s the one place in the world I know that no matter how hard I try to get them to do it to me, nobody will let me down. This is my safe haven.”
“I’m 40 and my name is Ed. I’m here because this place is such a dang hoot. I like coming so I can laugh at the crazy doo-doo they come up with every week. Plus they accept me and don’t think strange of me even though I can move objects with my mind.”
“I’m Ashok. Hi.”
“Hi Ashok,” Bonnie said.
“Go ahead Ashok,” Lucas said.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” Lucas asked.
“Because I’m going to die and she’s going to take my chair, and it’s not fair,” Ashok said.
“Come on Ashok, don’t be that way. You’re not going to die. You’ve said that about every person who’s ever come to visit us. Be nice to Bonnie.”
“Whatever. I’m 19 and I’m Ashok. I just joined earlier this year. I think I might be borderline autistic, but I’m not sure. I went to a shrink who said I was schizo. I’m not kidding, he really did. I flush the medication and come here instead, it’s better. Anyway...”
“Wrap it up,” Lucas said.
“Okay, well, Blue Oyster Cult so rocks,” Ashok said, and collapsed into a chair like a stringless puppet.
“I’m Missy and this is my son Pluto, it’s short for Plutarch. I’m 27 and my boy Pluto is 10. I’m a recovering crack addict, and I’m here for the support. And also because I want my son to have a big family to love him since my boyfriend won’t have anything to do with us and I don’t have any family left.”
“Thank you people,” Lucas said. “ Now I’d like for you sinners to shut up for a few minutes and let Bonnie talk. Go ahead Bonnie.”
Bonnie looked out at the faces staring at her with expectation. The fluorescent lights of the garage made her feel as though she was on stage. These were real people, not the paper dolls she would have imagined in her head back at the house if she had envisioned this circumstance, which she had not. She wished that she had.
“I really don’t have anything to say to you people,” Bonnie said, then paused. “I’m sorry, I know how that sounds. Whenever you say ‘you people’ it’s like a slap in the face. I don’t mean to be rude. All I mean is that I didn’t come here to see you as a group, I came to find Greg.”
“We know him as Harold,” Lucas said.
“Okay, Harold then. I have lots to say to Harold.”
“Tell us,” Billy said. “Is it sexy?”
“Billy, please,” Lucas said. “Quit trying to freak her out.”
“I can talk for myself,” Bonnie said to Lucas. “Maybe I do have something to say to this group.” She turned back to facing them.
“Billy, I don’t think you’ve been channeling a serial killer, whatever channeling means. I think you’re just a sick bastard looking for an excuse to be disgusting. And as for the rest of you, I think you’re probably pretty much the same. Not sick bastards, that is, people with problems looking for a reason or a cure or both. And that’s okay, whatever works for you. But you dragged Greg into this, and that’s what pisses me off. Just tell me where Greg is, and I’ll let you get on with your meeting.”
Monty couldn’t resist speaking up. "I know all this is hard to believe, but there are things in this world that are very, very real that cannot be explained by science. If you had time I’d show you some photos I took at a fairy ring in Southampton County last year that would blow your mind. If you don't know what fairy rings are, they are massive patches of fungi that live underground in huge nearly perfect circles. There seems to be some connection between fairy rings and…nevermind. Anyway, you shouldn’t be so dismissive."
"Are you sure you should be discussing this?" Ed interrupted.
“Are you sure I give a shit?” Bonnie said. She had her hands in her back pockets with her elbows stuck out. “You have some scary pictures, and maybe you had some kind of scary experience. So what?” Bonnie said. “Lots of people have strange things happen to them, I see them all the time on the Discovery Channel, but they haven’t put fairies in high school science books yet now have they? Now, I’m done being patient. Where’s Greg?”
“Well spoken,” Lucas said. “But we don’t know where he is. We’re as worried as you are.”
“You’re a damned liar.”
“That’s not what you mean,” Lucas said. “Swearing is the refuge of folks who don’t care enough to think of the right word.”
“Yeah,” Billy said. “I’m not a bastard, I’m an anti-social personality. Get it right sweet-cheeks.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Bonnie said.
“Hold on,” Lucas said, but she didn’t turn around. She was gone.
In the Toyota she decided what she would do. She was still wired, but stopped for cigarettes and a cup of coffee on the way to Lucas’ place anyway. Once there, she parked her car down the block and waited for Greg to show up.
Chatters on the Tide Page 22