Clicking Stones

by Nancy Tyler Glenn

  "Won't the children be coming here for Easter vacation?"

  Erica shook her head. "Julie and Isa want to take them to a Women's Music Festival. I'll get them for the whole summer." Erica looked at the two photographs on her desk. "They grow so fast. They'll be eight years old this month."

  * * * *

  Erica got off the plane in Cleveland and looked for Billy, who had said she would be holding up her Stone.

  She walked toward a light, held by a young woman hardly more than a child. "Excuse me, I'm looking for someone from the Martins Ferry Stone Clicking Center."

  The young woman smiled and Clicked her. "I'm here to meet you, Erica. I'm Billy. Shall we get your luggage?"

  Billy put Erica's suitcase in the trunk of a Lincoln. "Is this the Center car?" Erica asked.

  "We don't have a Center car." Billy started the engine. "One of our group loaned me her car to pick you up. She thought it would be disrespectful to drive you in my old VW."

  Erica studied Billy's face. "How old are you?"

  "I'll be nineteen this year." Billy wheeled the car onto the highway, leaving Hopkins Airport behind them.

  "How did you become a Center Manager?"

  Billy smiled. "I've never thought of myself as a manager, I just like seeing that things get done. A woman named Nadine who was hitchhiking across country stayed at my house for a while. She had one of your newsletters. I saw how easy it was to start a center and decided to do it."

  Erica looked out the window at the boats on the Ohio River. She couldn't remember ever seeing a paddle wheel boat before. "Did Nadine give you your first Stone?"

  Billy shook her head. "I got my Stone several years ago at Woodstock. My parents took me there. I was eleven."

  "I heard many people got their first Stones at Woodstock."

  "Yes, by the end of the festival it was quite brilliant. The first night it was dark. I had gotten separated from my parents and I was scared. I saw a woman with a light and asked her to help me. She was very pretty, I remember she told me her name was Kelly. Kelly gave me my first Stone."

  "And you've been a Stone Clicker ever since," Erica concluded.

  "Oh, no." Billy slowed down a little to let a car move in front of her. "My Stone faded. I didn't know how to get it started again. Nadine told me how it works."

  "I don't know Nadine," Erica confessed.

  They reached Martins Ferry at dusk. Billy left the highway and started up a hill toward a sparsely populated residential area. "That big white wooden house is where I live."

  "Shouldn't we go to the Center first?" Erica asked.

  Billy parked in the driveway. "I use my house as a center."

  The living room was devoid of furniture except for neat stacks of chairs lined up against the wall. "This is where we have our Click." Erica followed her into the dining room.

  "This is my office." Billy indicated the desk and file cabinet.

  "Everything is so immaculate," Erica observed.

  "I try to do things the way I think you would want them done." Upstairs, Billy showed her several bedrooms. "When we have people from out of town they usually stay here."

  "Where are your meeting rooms?"

  Billy looked puzzled. "We all meet downstairs."

  "You mean the different groups meet on different nights," Erica guessed.

  Billy shook her head. "Anyone can come here anytime." She took Erica to the end bedroom. "This is where you'll sleep." She led Erica to the window. "In the morning you'll be able to see the river and the West Virginia mountains."

  Erica could see the lights from the boats on the river. "What time is your meeting tonight?"

  "Everyone will meet at the river soon. They'll caravan up from there."

  "Do they always meet at the river?"

  "No," Billy said, "they're doing it tonight to honor you. Look, a few are beginning to congregate now."

  Erica peered out the window and saw a few of the unmistakable radiant white Stone lights.

  "You can see just as clearly from downstairs," Billy suggested. "If you'd like to watch from the front porch I can bring you something to eat."

  Downstairs, Erica watched, amazed, as the whole valley seemed to light up, the lights all seeming to move toward one focal point on the bank of the river.

  Billy came out of the house with a tray and placed it on a small table. "I called Central and they said you liked fried chicken, apple pie and lots of coffee."

  "Thank you, that was very thoughtful." Erica was touched.

  "I'm a vegetarian myself." Billy took a large crisp salad and a cup of herb tea off the tray for herself.

  Erica eyed Billy's plate hungrily. "In the future when I visit your center I'll eat whatever you prepare for yourself."

  "Yes, Mother."

  Erica stared. "What did you call me?"

  Billy flushed. "I... I apologize, I didn't mean to say that. It's just that I think of you as my spiritual mother."

  Erica looked out into distance. "I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn't want to be addressed in that way." She watched the final lights converge into a brilliant sun.

  "They should begin the caravan soon," Billy promised.

  "I noticed when I looked at your file at Central, you don't order Stones from us."

  Billy sat up. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware.

  "It doesn't matter, I just didn't think Martins Ferry was large enough to have its own gem store."

  "I don't buy Stones," Billy confessed. "I get them down at the river. I enjoy looking for them. It relaxes me."

  Erica watched the winding trail of light move away from the river and toward the center. "Shouldn't we set up the chairs?"

  "We all get our own chairs," Billy said. "At the end of the meeting we all put our own chairs back."

  Half an hour later Erica gazed at the assembled crowd. It was the first time in... she tried to think back. It had been years since she had seen so large a group. She looked at the faces - a young child sitting in the front row, a couple in the back of the room holding hands, two older women in the third row sitting with shoulders touching. Erica was filled with a sense of well-being; the faces were so open - trusting.

  She smiled and began slowly, "When I was seven years old..."

  * * * *

  Erica and Billy sat by the window in Erica's bedroom as the light trailed down the hill and scattered in different directions, again filling the valley with light.

  Billy pointed in the direction of a great light in the distance. "That's the prison. This is the time of night they usually light up."

  Erica was surprised. "We weren't able to get our prison program going. How did you get the warden to agree?"

  "It was easy," Billy revealed. "We Clicked him first."

  When the last light had been shut behind a closed door and the valley was again plunged into darkness, Erica turned to Billy. She suddenly realized Billy had been staring at her.

  Billy flushed and looked away. "When Nadine was here... I... she... we..."

  Erica took her hand. "What is it, Billy?"

  Billy's eyes searched her face. "Erica, do you ever... would you..."

  Erica took Billy's hand in her own. The skin was soft, smooth, and fresh. She noticed the skin of her own hand and suddenly felt she was of a different time. She glanced up and saw their faces reflected in the mirror - Billy's face and hair had the glow of youth. She shook her head. "You flatter me."

  Billy swallowed her tears. "I've dreamed so many times you're so beautiful. I've wanted so long to feel your arms around me."

  "Tonight you called me Mother."

  "I meant no disrespect. It's just that I love you so much." A tear rolled down Billy's cheek.

  "You may call me Mother. Would you like me to hold you while you go to sleep?"

  Later, Erica listened to the even breathing of the sleeping woman-child curled against her. She thought of her own babies and wept.

  * * * *

  Erica finished looking over the files in
Billy's office. "Everything is very up to date." She took a sheet of paper from her leather notebook. "I need some statistics for our records. What's your current active membership?"

  "One hundred fifty-six, unless you're counting the Wards; they moved to Cleveland but come back whenever they can."

  Erica wrote the figure on her paper. "How many inactive?"

  Billy shook her head. "Only the Wards, there are four of them."

  Erica was impressed. "What percent of your membership actually see the light from the Stones?"

  Billy was confused. "I don't understand your question."

  "How many of your Clickers see the light from their Stones?"

  Billy still looked puzzled but answered, "All of them."

  "No," Erica insisted, "I don't think you understand. Our records show that only about twenty percent of Clickers see the light. Of the remaining eighty percent about sixty percent can either sense, feel or hear the Stone."

  "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I was under the impression that anyone who Clicked automatically saw the light. I assure you, Mother, all our members do see the light."

  Erica looked at her. Billy seemed even younger today.

  "Is something the matter?" Billy asked.

  "I was just wondering," Erica mused. "Would you be willing to come to Los Angeles to work at Central?"

  Billy looked out the window in the direction of the Ohio River. Finally she said, "I would go anywhere you asked me to go. I'll have to find someone to take care of my friends."

  ~ Chapter 24 ~

  Erica arrived at LAX on schedule. She looked around the passenger lounge for a familiar face. Irritated, she walked to the telephone.

  The phone rang at Central eleven times.

  "Becky, this is Erica. I'm at the airport. Didn't you send anyone to meet me?"

  "I tried to call you in New York. I forgot about the difference in time. The station wagon is in the shop and Isa has the Datsun."

  Erica was stunned. "Isa is back?"

  "Yes, that's why I was calling you. Isa and Julie broke up. She came back this morning with the children."

  "I'll take a cab."

  The cab driver carried her bags upstairs. Erica paid him and started to give him a tip. He waved the money away and pulled out a Stone. "For my kid," he explained.

  Erica unlocked the door and pushed it open. Suitcases and boxes were piled in the middle of the living room floor.

  She picked up the phone and buzzed Becky. "Where did Isa take the girls?"

  "She didn't say, Erica."

  Erica went downstairs.

  "How was New York?" Becky asked. "Mark didn't sound too happy when I called this morning."

  "It was a disaster. Mark had quite a few women there, probably two hundred out of the five hundred assembled. He asked me to explain to them that Stone Clicking isn't political."

  "Did you?"

  "Yes." Erica was agitated. "I stood in front of the group and tried to look at the faces, but there weren't many lighted Stones and the house lights were down. I held up my Stone and said: 'This is a Clicked Stone, it has nothing whatsoever to do with politics.'"

  "What happened?"

  Erica stared at the wall. "All the women and many of the men stood up in unison and marched out of the auditorium."

  Becky ran her fingers through her polka-dot hair. "I hope you had better luck in Martins Ferry."

  Erica closed her eyes trying to recapture the images - the West Virginia mountains, similar in color to the exquisite Dioptase that Kelly had sent her from Southwest Africa... the freshness of the air... the blue skies... and Billy. "It was a wonderful experience."

  "We've had some problems while you were gone," Becky told her. "The cops were here yesterday. Two teenage gangs called the Wits and the Dukes had a rock fight. Several boys were badly hurt."

  "But they don't have anything to do with us," Erica reminded her. "They don't even use the words Stone or Click."

  Becky shrugged. "They just wanted me to check a list of names against our computer file for addresses."

  "You should call Alicia when things like that happen," Erica instructed.

  "I did." Becky took the chewing gum out of her mouth and dropped it into the wastepaper basket. "She told me to cooperate and to call her back if there were any problems."

  "They're giving Clicking a bad name," Erica lamented.

  "Well," Becky waxed philosophical, "you know - people, places and things."

  "What else happened while I was gone?"

  "I've been having some scheduling problems," Becky confessed. "I think we need a larger center. On Monday nights we have the Latinas, Latina Single Mothers, Latina Teens, Latina Lesbians, Latina Single Lesbians, Latina Couples and Latina Lesbian Mixed Doubles. Now a group of Latinas from the D.A. and P.D.A. groups want their own Click."

  "I know what D.A. is but what is P.D.A.?" Erica asked.

  "Partially Differently Abled," Becky reminded her.

  "What about Wednesday? Don't we have a couple of rooms?"

  Becky shook her head, "We have Black Women, Women of Color..."

  "Aren't they the same thing?" Erica looked at the schedule.

  "Of course not!" Becky was incredulous. "If you'd spend a little time here you would know what our needs are."

  "Sorry," Erica mumbled. "Go on."

  Becky continued, "On Wednesdays we have the B.W., W.O.C., B.C., L.B.C., B.L.M., B.M.D., L.W.O.C., and W.O.C.B.W.M.D. Thursdays we have T.S., T.V., T.S.I.T., T.S.T.V.M.D., T.S.D.A., T.V.H.I., and T.S.P."

  "How long has it been," Erica wanted to know, "since we had a big Click with everybody all together?"

  Becky shrugged and shook her head. "Not since I've been here. Where would we have it? The main auditorium was sectioned off into smaller rooms about the time Julie hired me. Besides," she observed, "it would be a waste of time."

  "Why is that?"

  Becky laughed. "Nobody would come."

  * * * *

  March 19, 1984

  Dear Kelly,

  I was surprised to get your letter from Witt University. I'm curious why you switched from science to parapsychology, but I'm pleased you've decided to work with Clickers and Kirilian Photography. We ourselves sent questionnaires to our entire membership a few months ago. I'm determined to find out why some people can see the light and some people can't.

  Becky's been very busy reading the results of our questionnaires into the computer and we should have a good sample by the time you get here. As you'll see, we have a most unusual computer, made available to us by special friends in Silicon Valley. Spring break is an ideal time for you to come - Isa is taking the kids to visit her father in Florida.

  About Undine, I don't know what to tell you. I didn't have a vision or hear voices; I had an experience that she would be back. I had no previous belief in reincarnation. How does one describe an experience? You might want to interview Michele Lanier, an animal psychic living in the Valley. I had her do a reading on Undine once. She reads animals by sending and receiving images. She told me Undine doesn't remember being Maudeen. I swear though, the older Undine gets the more she is like Maudeen. Emma even remarked about it.

  You could talk to my father. He's met a lot of people through his work and writing about mysticism. In 1966 he met Padre Pio. Not only did Padre Pio have a stigmata, but was a clairvoyant and was able to perform miracles. Also there is documentation that Padre Pio appeared in two places at the same time.

  Billy is planning to stay permanently after our conference in June. She's found someone to take over the Martins Ferry Center.

  It's about the same between Isa and me. She has her own personal life and I have mine - though I admit to zero personal life. Isa dates quite a bit. I can't blame her, she's not quite thirty-two yet. At forty-six I get more pleasure from the time I spend with Isi and Jes.

  I don't enjoy the Center much anymore. Every time I go downstairs it's full of women who either call me ma'am or ignore me altogether. The other day I h
eard a young woman say, "Scan you later." I told her we don't speak gibberchatter at the centers. Swear-to-god she looked at me the way we used to look at old Simons at Nelson. Of course when we looked at Simons that way it was usually behind her back.