theMystery.doc
Page 6
[deliver them from the jaws of the lion, lest hell engulf them, lest they be plunged into darkness]
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I cannot think of anything else right now.
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How about some TV?
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—he gave us drinks…we accepted drinks from him and we were drugged and raped for thirteen hours……and, we’re just wondering if you can tell us, who…who did this to us…he got away…when we first met him, he was talking on the cell phone…to his wife and children Before you say anything, please, could I—give me a second, because I will, I will. I—we gotta talk about this for a second. You are—at the time this happened, how old were you? Nineteen years old. Nineteen years old. Seventeen. Where, where were you at, where you, were you—at a party, hitchhiking—where where did you meet this guy? Um, we met him at a restaurant, in a parking lot, we were calling friends for a ride and he walked up, he was in a tie-dyed shirt, he seemed like a really nice man, he was like, Oh, I’m going that way… They always are. Did he give you a ride—And I’m I’m saying this right now I’m because I have the two of you here, there are a lot of young ladies who are watching this show Right. Don’t ever trust anybody. And you got in the car—stupid enough, Sibyl, to get in the car, and then the guy offers you something to drink, right? Right. And—hear me—I am not calling you stupid Right. Date rape drug. There’s another young lady right now who will learn from you, I’m telling you. Right, exactly. You get in the car—what made you think this guy would give you something you could trust from him to drink. He—he was just really, he seemed like a sincere person, and before I actually passed out on the drugs, I was looking in the clouds, thanking God that I met this person. I mean, we were talking about religion!
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No! I mean, he’s And for the next person here, at one point in time, I guess, it was you, he beat you to a point where you thought she was dead. Correct?
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Right, and the whole thirteen hours he brainwashed me and told me that we killed her together and that I had to come with him. He put her class ring on my finger. I woke up in his car, not knowing where she was, with his hands on me. I was drugged, and I couldn’t move, I tried to run, I tried to shove the keys into the ground, I ripped the keys out of the ignition.
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The police, of course, were involved. Right. But they never caught this guy. No. Sibyl, my first question—I gotta tell you—my first question is: God, tell me this man did not do this again. No he didn’t. He did not. No. No. So, therefore, were they random? Had he done this before them and He had done this before but he hasn’t done it since, because let me tell you something, somebody took him out. So he’s already dead. He’s dead, he’s dead.
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[applause]
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Can you tell me his name?
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Yeah,
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uh,
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his name was,
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um,
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Ted.
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You knew this man was married, ’cause I guess—you overheard one of his conversations with he was talking Right to his wife? He was on the phone to his wife and kids and he was like, I’ll be home soon, babies, and Ohhhh…
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Real jewel.
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Yeah.
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Well, somebody caught him with uh, you know, somebody, and just, took him out. And that’s another case that we’re gonna probably see on this show that’ll be unsolved with—how in the hell did this guy die? Right. And somebody will think he was a good guy. Oh, somebody will think—how many times, Talk Show Host, will you see these news shows on about a pedophile or murderer and you’ll talk to the neighbor and they say, Oh, he kept to himself, he was such a nice person and he seemed to be so nice. Right. That’s the thing that got me for so long was that Yeah. they can talk about religion and God. He was living a double life. Look at Jim Jones! Yep. Yep. Right now I had a girl that did this about two months ago. Got in the car with some pig just because the guy seemed to talk nice Yeah and I don’t know,
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how do we beat this into our daughters?
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Yep.
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How?
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Yeah. I was naïve and young and, you know. And now they’ve got this thing now about a Talent Scout—have you heard that? Reality show and Right now right now you have women and men doing this to-ge-ther! They even have people dressed up as policemen doing this kind of stuff. It’s sick.
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Yes, ma’am, you have a question for Sibyl.
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Sibyl, my father passed away about four years ago, and he uh suffered from bone cancer and I just want to know if he’s OK. He really is OK. And, um……see, and here’s the thing: What you think is suffering— Now, two things could be operating here like I usually say. Is that they don’t remember, or that they’re not suffering as much as they think we are, do you see what I’m saying? Because they don’t—they never, ever remember their suffering. Let me take a break. We’ll be back, right after this.
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Jeff began to weep / Kay laughed nervously.
Why are you crying? she said. You’re too much! You know that? We’re all here to see you and now you’re crying? What are your guests supposed to think? They’ve come all the way from Seattle to see you! A grown man crying!
PLEATHEDONLAUGH, DAHLING! he blurted, thickly, weeping, loudly. DON’TREAT METHOCRUELLY, MYDAHLING!
Kay looked across the table at me, embarrassed.
Come on now, she said to Jeff softly, patting his hand. Come on. Settle down now.
We sat in silence for a while; I scooted my chair back from beneath the sun umbrella. It was summer, and the sky was blue.
Jeff raised his head suddenly and sobbed, I LOVEYOU MYDAHLING!
Oh, Jeff, Kay said, patting his hand. You’re too much…
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YOU’RE MY ANGEL! he cried, the tears rolling down his face, onto his shirt, snot dripping from his nose. Kay wiped it with a tissue, laughing:
Stop it now, Jeff! That’s enough!
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Then he said something like
YOU ARE THE SUN IN THE SKY!
YOU ARE THE SILVER MOON AT NIGHT!
YOU ARE THE SALVATION OF THE WORLD!
YOU ARE THE BEGINNING AND THE END!
IN YOU I BEHOLD ETERNITY!
IN YOU I BEHOLD THE VOID!
YOU ARE THE ALL AND THE NOTHING!
YOU ARE THE SEED AND THE WOMB!
YOU ARE THE UNIVERSE AND ALL THAT IT CONTAINS!
YOU ARE TIME AND SPACE,
MATTER AND ANTIMATTER!
YOU ARE THE THOUGHT
AND THE WORD
AND THE NAME
AND THE WORLD!
YOU ARE THE BLESSED BOOK
AND HOLY ROOD!
YOU ARE ALL THAT IS ONLY,
EVER, ALWAYS, ONLY,
EVER, ALWAYS, ONLY!
YOU!
OHOWILOVEYOU!
OHOWILOVEYOU!
MY DARLING!
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Stop it, Jeff! Kay said. You’re embarrassing me! Come on, now. Tell the kids about the time you were an extra on Titanic! You remember? They filmed it in Ensenada. Did you know that? They built a huge boat down there in the harbor. Remember, Jeff? The director just loved him! Didn’t he Jeff! He liked you because you were real British upper crust! That’s what he said. Not just some actor. His nickname for Jeff was Sir George. Remember? He also liked Jeff because he was big and tall and looked good on film. I think that movie made about a billion dollars. Did you kids see it? No? You should rent it s
ometime. Shouldn’t they, Jeff!
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So they can see you!
01:49:16,152 --> 01:49:18,188 X1:224 X2:492 Y1:452 Y2:486
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>Subject: 55599-1: Grove Atlantic: “TITANIC” (1997) /
>“THEMYSTERY.DOC”
>
>Thank you very much for your request dated August 11, 2015
>to license stills of “TITANIC” (1997) from Twentieth Century Fox
>Film Corporation in your book. Unfortunately, after reviewing
>your request, we regret that we cannot grant a license to you
>for this purpose. I can assure you we gave your request serious
>and thoughtful consideration.
01:49:18,232 --> 01:49:20,063 X1:276 X2:442 Y1:452 Y2:491
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>Thank you for your interest in licensing Fox material and
>good luck with your project.
>
>
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But Jeff didn’t want to talk about being an extra on the Titanic or how he had managed to survive that terrible wreck. Instead, through a torrent of tears, he told us the tale of what had happened to him after he’d washed up onshore.
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Now, this part is one hundred percent true:
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Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest has been captured by his archnemesis Sheriff Saddam Hussein, and tossed into a high-security Baghdad prison, with mile-high walls forged of dense, impenetrable metal, a mile thick at its least dense point. A perfect cube. And Robin’s in the center.
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The cell is dark and cold. There is neither light, nor warmth. Robin is chained to the icy ground, each link of the chain weighing a hundred kilograms, and constructed of some virtually unbreakable material created in a secret U.S. laboratory, a joint effort between the Right-Wing Factions of Academia, Military, Industry, and the Federal Government, for the sole purpose of binding Robin. Robin cannot remember how long he has been imprisoned in this manner—for him Time has ceased to exist; there is only one cold, neverending night.
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He desires to die, but is kept alive by the Machine. He has never seen it with his eyes, for the darkness is impenetrable, but since the time he was brought in he has become all too acquainted with the Machine. For at irregular intervals the Machine begins to whir, and then rolls across the cell to Robin, who can always feel the Machine closing in on him in the darkness.
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After a matter of seconds, a beep is heard, and then a whir, and then Robin, supine upon his back—for that is the manner in which he is bound—feels a cold metal appendage spread apart his lips. So tightly is he bound, that all self-compelled motion is impossible. He cannot even fight the parting of his lips.
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Once the lips are parted, the teeth are pried open with a separate appendage. Then another appendage comes forth. It holds between two tongs a single round Nugget. The tongs enter Robin’s mouth and with a whir continue past his tongue and down his throat reaching all the way into his stomach. When the sensor on the appendage comes in contact with the stomach acids, another beep is heard, the tongs open, and the Nugget is deposited. Then the appendage retracts back up through the throat, and seals Robin’s mouth orifice, so that Robin may not expunge the pellet by vomiting.
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As the Machine sits quietly plugging his mouth until digestion has occurred and the Nugget has been absorbed into the bloodstream, Robin lies there, literally beside himself with sorrow. For he will never see the woods of Sherwood Forest again, those famous woods he loves so much, those woods where as a young boy he would play, and the birds would sing, and Friar Tuck and Little John and all the lads and in the dining room of his boyhood house in Liverpool was a long oak table where they would eat their meals, and at his father’s seat at the head, his father had built into the table a drawer, and young Robin would sit at the table, eating his supper, always filled with wonder at the thought of what was in the drawer.
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He was forbidden to look inside, and he never saw his father take anything out of the drawer except for his pipe and a pouch of tobacco when the meal was over. And someday, young Robin thought, when I am old enough, I shall find out what is really in the drawer (for he knew that there was something else besides the pipe and tobacco).
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But now old Robin will never know what was in the drawer. For he was sent to live with his aunt at her house in Wales when his mother became ill. And he always planned on finding the table again, but now he has been taken prisoner and surely will never see the great table again! So he will never know the answer. Old Robin will know only cold and darkness. And he begins to weep.
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He weeps for many hours,
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and the hours turn to days,
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and the days to years.
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Then one day, suddenly, he hears a sound, the first sound, besides the whirring and beeping of the Machine, to reach his ears in many years.
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It is a faint sound, coming from outside the mile-thick walls of his cell.
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It sinks;
it sprouts;
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it grows;
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it blooms;
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it is a woman’s voice, a beautiful singing voice.
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It is the voice of his beautiful blond-haired angel: Maid Marian! Listen! Hear the Sound! Hear the angel sing!
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“My Beloved, I have come to take you away!”
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Or something like that. It was hard to make out Jeff’s words.
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To dream of being in a castle, you will be possessed of sufficient wealth to make life as you wish.
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We are bruised fruit.
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We have fallen from the vine.
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Venus is so bright that a naval commander once ordered his ship to fire upon it he thought he saw the headlight of an oncoming train heading for him.
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Anyway… So, what happened once Maid Marian entered Robin’s prison?
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Well, it was difficult to tell because as her singing grew louder, and she grew nearer, and her light grew brighter, penetrating the cell from all directions, Jeff, sitting there, with low downturned head, in his wheelchair, beneath the sun umbrella, well, his weeping began to overpower him, and the words, difficult to understand anyway, became completely unintelligible, trapped in his belly, and his throat, something like a gasp, something like a wail, something like a choke.
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The story continued anyway, while Kay laughed nervously and rubbed Jeff’s hand, and my wife and I sat quietly, leaning toward him, trying to hear and understand, eager to know, but too polite to interrupt and say:
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I didn’t quite catch that, Jeff.
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Tell that part again.
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What happens when Maid Marian enters his cell?
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Does she save him?
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Do they escape?
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What were the words of her song?
VII
Saint Didacus [Diego] one day heard a poor woman lamenting, and learned that she had not known that her seven-year-old son had gone to sleep in her large oven; she had lighted a fire, and lost her senses when she heard his cries. He sent her to the altar of the Blessed Virgin to pray and went with a large group of persons to the oven; although all the wood was burnt, the child was taken from it without so
much as a trace of burns. I know for sure that these are not my words.