by Jane Toombs
Then there was a stirring of leaves in the bushes uphill from her and a child’s face appeared.
“Amy,” she called. “Good morning, I’m happy to see you again.” She waited in the path and the little girl finally slid down toward her.
“I didn’t tell you my name last night—it’s Danica.”
Amy stood beside her on the path, staring upward. Her grey eyes were astonishingly light in the olive face framed with black hair. She reached a hand up toward Danica.
Danica realized the girl wanted to touch her red hair again, and so she crouched down next to Amy and smiled when she felt the small hand stroke her head.
“Have you ever seen red hair before, Amy? It’s just hair like yours, only a different color. My eyes are green and yours are grey. Different colors again. There are lots of different colors. The sky is a blue color today.”
Danica no longer felt Amy’s hand and she saw the girl was gazing up at the sky. Danica reached out her hand, then felt rather than saw Amy shrink away. She immediately drew back her hand. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to,” she said. But she knew the tenuous rapport between them had been broken. A moment later Amy darted off up the hill and disappeared.
As Danica stood up she heard her name and looking around saw Galt Anders in the open doorway of his house. “Come in and have coffee with me,” he said.
With a lift of spirits, she agreed. Someone was making a friendly gesture. Two people, if she counted Amy.
Galt’s kitchen was a near duplicate of Lydia’s.
“Are all the houses identical?” she asked.
“Practically, though we’ve made various modifications. The original builders were advocates of communal living. They started out with quite a bit of money and the highest ideals.”
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know exactly. I do know I bought the property for a good deal less than it’s worth. No one lived here by then. I heard rumors of a feud that left two people dead and others arrested. I was happy to acquire the property, but I dislike having benefited from another’s failure.”
“How many children do you have here?” Danica asked.
“Amy made fifty. She’s our last, and without more housing and more staff I’m afraid we’ve reached our limit. I don’t really want more children right now—too many and we dilute what good we may do.”
“She’s an unusual little girl.”
“I saw you together on the path. Do you know you’re the first person I’ve ever known her to touch voluntarily?”
“She—it’s my hair…”
“I know. You have beautiful hair.”
Flustered, Danica glanced at him and saw he was smiling at her. Her red hair had always made her stand out and many times had been a burden rather than a pleasure. Galt moved his hand toward her and her breath caught as she wondered if he meant to touch her hair as Amy had. The idea of this man touching her was unsettling.
Then the door banged open and Galt stood up as Melantha swept into the kitchen.
“You can’t have that red-haired girl here,” Melantha said, speaking directly to Galt, ignoring Danica. “She’s a Sagittarius and that’s a fire sign. I consider the combination a bad omen.”
“Melantha…” Galt began, but she cut him off.
“She’s a destroyer, not a builder,” Melantha said in her husky voice, “and she will bring chaos to Star-Fire.”
Chapter Five
“Melantha,” Galt said, “come and have some coffee. Surely you haven’t had time to erect a complete horoscope for Danica. So why the intense reaction?”
Melantha sat at the table with them. “I have no particular feeling against you as a person,” she said to Danica. “But I don’t think you belong here. Haven’t you felt it yourself?”
“Oh, come now,” Galt said. “She’s barely arrived at Star-Fire.”
Danica looked at Melantha’s dark beauty. Should I tell her I do have a feeling? she wondered. A feeling that neither she nor Evan wants me here. Should I ask why?
“I have a partial horoscope,” Melantha said. “She has her moon in Libra. You know that makes her wishy-washy, too eager to please. At the same time, with Mercury in Scorpio she’s suspicious and tends to be critical. Those characteristics added together suggest a troublemaker. Plus the typical unstable, hasty Sagittarian nature…”
“I’m not like that!” Danica cried.
Melantha shrugged. “At any rate, that’s not what I based my recommendation on.” She looked at Danica. “When you flare up like you did just now, flames leap around you. I don’t know why and I don’t like it. The suggestion of fire is there all the time. Even if you are a fire sign, I shouldn’t be able to sense the flames so strongly.”
Danica shrank back into her chair and dropped her eyes. No, she thought, not here, too.
“Galt, look at her… She knows something…”
“Bring me the completed horoscope, Melantha. I’ll go over it. But you haven’t shown me enough reason not to add Danica to the staff. As I certainly shouldn’t have to remind you, Sagittarians are also cheerful, hard workers. And don’t I remember the moon in Libra as indicating a fondness for children? The other business about the fire is too nebulous.”
“Even her hair…” Melantha began.
“Amy likes her hair; she’s already reached out to Danica. That’s reason enough right there to keep her with us.”
“You’re overriding me?”
“I think of it as a disagreement in interpretation. Bring me the horoscope when it’s finished and we’ll go over each item together. Meanwhile, I’ll add Danica to the Star-Fire staff.”
Melantha stared at Galt, then rose abruptly and swept out of the kitchen. Danica heard the door open and close. “I wonder why she doesn’t like me?” Danica said.
“You mustn’t feel that way,” Galt said. “Melantha is totally devoted to Star-Fire and sometimes I think she goes overboard—like now, with you—in her desire to have us all fit together.” He frowned. “I’ve wondered if that might be bringing us toward a certain sterility.”
“Thank you for believing in me,” Danica said. “I’m eager to get started. But—but there is something you should know.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to meet Galt’s eyes. “The place where I last worked—a child died in a fire and I—I believe it was my fault.”
There was a momentary silence. “Didn’t Evan say you worked with disabled children in Los Angeles?” Galt asked at last.
“Yes. I’m an RN and I was in charge of the hospital on the evening shift. Kevin…” She bit her lip. “One of the boys I had been using the light-fire energies with was the child who was burned to death. I should have…”
“What was the name of the hospital?”
She told him and he said, “I don’t accept the fire as your fault, but I’ll call them about you, then we’ll all feel better. Okay?”
She nodded.
“Now,” he said, “Where to put you? I’d like to have you in a unit with Amy but…” He paused.
“I’d enjoy that,” she said.
“Yes, well, Amy is in Melantha’s house at present.”
“Oh.”
“So maybe Lydia’s is the best. You’ve met Lydia?”
“Yes, she made my breakfast this morning. Lydia’s house will be fine.”
“About Amy…” He shook his head. “I won’t make that decision now. But I will arrange a time for you to work with her every day; spontaneous bonds should be encouraged.”
“Do I begin today? I don’t know exactly…”
“Your training in the Star-Fire energy use will start today. You already know Evan, so we’ll use him as instructor. All right?”
He smiled at her, dark eyes glowing, and she thought her mother couldn’t have been more wrong. Galt was obviously a kind person; she couldn’t imagine his being cruel.
“I’d like you to listen to Amy’s interview tape when you get settled in,” Galt
said.
“Interview tape?”
“Oh, not with Amy—about her. After the staff meets a new child I have them in one at a time to discuss their reaction to the child. Amy…” He paused and frowned. “Well, we’ll talk about her again when you’ve heard the tape and when you’ve formed your own views.”
“Fine,” she said and rose from her chair.
“One more thing—I have the only telephone at Star-Fire. Something of a nuisance and we’re going to have other lines coming in eventually, but at present that’s it. Feel free to use the phone at any time.”
So it was Galt who had answered the phone last night when she’d called Evan. “Thank you,” she said.
“You might stop by and see Evan; he’s free this morning. Do you know where he lives?”
Danica nodded.
She found Evan in his house two doors away. “Galt sent me over,” Danica told him. “He wants you to be my instructor.”
“So you’re one of us?”
“Well—I’ll try to be.” She smiled at Evan tentatively, half expecting the rejection she’d felt last night, but he smiled back warmly and she realized anew what a good-looking man he was.
“I’m glad. I’ve hoped all along we could work together. You know, Sagittarius and Gemini are opposite signs. I’m a Gemini, your alter ego.”
Gemini. The Twins. Did that mean Evan was two people, one friendly, one distant? Nor did she remember telling him she was a Sagittarius. She gave herself a mental shake. No reason to act like Melantha, finding omens where none existed.
“I don’t know enough about astrology to know if opposite signs are compatible or not,” she said.
“Frequently they are,” he said.
“Why all the emphasis on astrology here?”
“That’s why we’re Star-Fire. Astrology and the light energy working together. The children have their horoscopes worked out, too, so we can determine the optimum times for them to accept the energy.”
She said nothing.
“It works. You’ll see, we’ll make a complete believer of you.” He grinned at her. “No better time to start than now. Let’s see—suppose you tell me all you’ve learned of the light-fire, how many of the energies you’ve mastered. Then you can try some of the techniques on me and maybe I can judge how far along the pathway you’ve gotten.”
“White Energy,” she said, “Cosmic Father, Radiant Warrior, Left Hand of the Physician, Right Hand of the Physician.” As usual when she recited the names, a farcical feeling pervaded her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen the energy work—she had. She could believe in the energy itself, but the names were something else.
“The healing five,” Evan said. “Very good. You’ll need a few more, but those are enough for a start. Now let’s see if you can use what you’ve learned.”
Danica closed her eyes and gathered awareness. “I’ll use the white,” she said to Evan, “if you’d like to activate your own star.”
She thought of her star rising and expanding to pour down the radiant energy, the energy flowing through her, through her field, into the earth. She thought of her hands bathed in the Ch’i Energy, that of life itself.
Danica opened her eyes and got up, and moved to where Evan sat in his chair. She stood behind him and placed her hands on top of his head, lightly touching. After a few moments she pressed gently, then lifted her hands up and away slowly, slowly, pausing at three inches, then moving away again until her hands were back at her sides.
Then she put her left hand on Evan’s forehead and her right hand at the back of his head, slightly lower.
She blazed up the energy between her hands by thinking it so, and after a moment pressed gently and removed her hands as she had before. This time she thought she felt a drawing sensation as though there was a force acting between her hands and Evan’s head.
“That’s enough,” he said. “I could feel you very distinctly using the energy. You’ve learned your lessons well. Let’s hope I’m as good a teacher as your previous one.”
She smiled, feeling at peace with herself and with Evan. She always felt better after using the energy.
“I remember your talking at the seminar,” Evan said. “You’d gotten an alteration in behavior for the better in a hyperactive boy. Right?”
Danica’s smile faded.
“What’s the matter?”
“That was Kevin. He—he’s dead.” She told Evan about the fire. “So that’s why I came up here, really. To run away, I guess.”
He shook his head. “I don’t see it that way. You knew we needed you; this is the place to develop what you’ve started to do.”
Was this the same Evan who greeted her so reluctantly last night?
“I thought you’d changed your mind about wanting me here,” she said.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t qualify and I can’t stand disappointment. I was pushing you away so I wouldn’t have to face the fact you might not stay—if that makes any sense to you.”
“Not exactly,” she said.
“That’s me. You’ve heard the old saying: ‘You can’t rely on Gemini.’ Well, we do have our faults. But I’m glad you’re here.” He touched her arm. “Very glad.”
She didn’t mind the feel of Evan’s hand, but she moved away. Hasty, Melantha had called her. She’d be no such thing, form no impetuous relationships.
Evan glanced at his watch. “The Chanting Room should be in use by now. I’ll take you down and let you see and feel how we increase and focus energy with the use of chanting.”
“What’s Amy’s diagnosis?” Danica asked him as they climbed down the steps.
“Mental retardation of unknown etiology,” he said. “Like so many of our children. I was a psychiatric social worker at Porterville State Hospital before I came to Star-Fire, and I can vouch for that diagnosis as the most common.” He shrugged. “In other words, your guess is as good as the doctor’s.”
“But she’s so afraid. Most of the children I’ve worked with are affectionate, overly affectionate at times.”
“Amy is a type. I’ve seen the withdrawn ones before.”
“Does it mean a—well, sort of an overlay of mental illness?”
Evan shrugged again. “I don’t know. That’s anyone’s guess, too. And it really doesn’t make much difference, since we treat all the children the same—kindness and attention. Good remedies for anything.”
They were approaching the A-frame. Evan didn’t go toward the closed double front doors, but led her around to the side. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked a door there. “I don’t want them to see us, we might disturb them, coming in after the start. This way leads to the sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary?” She glanced at Evan.
“It’s where we keep the eternal fire. Sanctuary is as good a name as any.” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I can see the wheels going around; you’re thinking we practice some strange, esoteric religion. We don’t. But a ritual is more effective with a little mystery, so we have the eternal fire and light each ritual fire from it with a short ceremony to get everyone on the right frequencies.”
They had come down a short hall and now Evan drew aside a long purple curtain and let her step into a small alcove with him. There was an iron latticework separating them from the rest of the building. She pushed against it tentatively, but the metal grill was bolted into position and didn’t move.
Beyond, she saw a raised platform, altar-like, with a white flame burning steadily inside a transparent covering. More purple draperies decorated the altar.
“The eternal fire is gas fed,” Evan whispered, and grinned at her.
Below the platform was a circle of children and adults. Not as large a group as last night, perhaps fifteen or so. In the center of the circle a child sat on a chair with a staff member behind, hands on the child’s head. Everyone was saying a word over and over; it sounded to Danica like om. Some of the children’s voices straggled behind, but as she listened the sound changed to beco
me a giant hum, as though the people making it had somehow merged into one.
Danica felt as though she was a part of the circle, one of the units making the whole. Energy flowed into the seated child from them all. It was a moment or so before she realized Evan was pulling at her hand. Reluctantly she looked around at him. He jerked his head toward the door they had entered by.
She didn’t want to go, but followed him.
“You’re not quite ready for that,” he told her once they were outside.
“But I was a part, I was helping…”
“Not yet. You have to know all of us first, children and staff alike. Energy directed to the known is more effective.”
They started up the long flight of steps to the houses. “Did Galt assign you a house?” Evan asked.
“Lydia’s.”
“Nice and close.”
“Do the houses usually have one or two staff members?”
“It varies. We’ve got one married couple. I’m in a house alone, so is Galt, so is Melantha, and so is Dave—you’ll meet him. Then there’s Fred. The rest are in twos. By sex, like you and Lydia. Galt keeps us pure in the eyes of the authorities. And the parents, too, of course.”
“You know, on the way here I had the feeling Star-Fire would be rustic, sort of primitive, like summer camp; I guess.”
Evan laughed. “There’s a lot of money in this place,” he said. “And we have a waiting list of parents who want their children to come here despite the fantastic fees. Galt’s got a real moneymaker.”
“But what you do works.” In spite of herself, there was a faint question in the words.
“Why, yes. Of course it does. And the children are happy, the parents are happy, we’re all happy.”
Danica examined Evan’s face, but couldn’t see any trace of irony.
“There was a scorpion in my bed last night,” she said. “Are they common here? Do they bother the children?”
She thought for a moment Evan hadn’t heard her, but finally he spoke. “We do have scorpions,” he said, “though not usually in our beds. Ask Lydia for some insecticide.”
Danica walked along the path to Lydia’s, now her house, too. Evan had to fix lunch for his children and would come by later. He’d invited her, but she thought maybe Lydia needed help.