Alice 1

by Ernest Kinnie

  Jerry is open, friendly, and has a warm smile. A super actor? I told him my name was Maria Stockton and he led to a room in the back. There’s a large crucifix on the wall and Christian pictures and symbols scattered around. I was early and there were only four people in the room, and Barry was one of them. He looked up and smiled when I walked over and like Jerry he doesn’t fit the Holies I have known.

  “Hi, my name is Maria.”

  “Hi, I’m Barry.”

  I watched carefully and saw no sign of recognition. If he were a spy for the Holies he would have been given my picture.

  “This is my first time here, are you new?”

  “Oh no. Jerry and I are old friends and when we came to Berkeley decided to start a group like we had in Colorado.”

  “What kind of group was that?”

  “Well, we called ourselves the Holy Warriors of God, but I never liked the name, too pretentious. I’m not all that humble, but I don’t set myself that high.”

  “Yeah that does sound a little way up there, humility being one of the virtues and all. What did the group do?”

  “It was pretty activist. We picketed a place that kills babies and wrote letters to politicians supporting the sanctity of the marriage between a man and a woman. Things like that.”

  Either this guy is really good, or Karla and I have nothing to worry about. But it can’t be this easy. Why did he choose Arlene at the Unitarian dance? And would a devout Christian go near a Unitarian Fellowship?

  “So the Holy Warriors of God just wrote letters and picketed. That’s it?” Said with just a tiny hint of scorn. Let’s see if he takes the bait.

  “Well, one time we burned a bunch of pamphlets advertising an abortion clinic, and another time we threw rotten tomatoes at a meeting of atheists. I guess maybe we should have done more, but mostly we just tried to be decent people.”

  “That sounds good enough for me. Did you ever hear of a girl called Alice? Alice Shannon?”

  “No. Who is she?” Nothing. No sign of recognition.

  “A friend who I thought came here. Do you have a hard time finding nice people to go out with?”

  “Yes it’s hard, not many good Christians here. Well, you don’t have to be a Christian to be good. I have a friend who is just a nice, nice person. She was raised Christian but doesn’t go to church anymore.”

  “Have you been going together long?”

  “No, not long. We met at a dance and really like each other.”

  “I’m so glad, Barry,” and you don’t know how close you came to Hell on earth. I detect no dishonesty. So the spy scenario was nothing but coincidence and paranoia? Or is there another doll ready to poop in my face?

  “Welcome to all,” Jerry began. “I see some new people and some old. Welcome to all. We are a small group who try to live good lives in a world of sin and corruption. We are not saints. We are human as Christ was human, doing our best to lead decent lives in the midst of the seductive temptations of the world. We attempt to bring a small portion of the love and truth of our Lord Jesus Christ into the world through prayer and ritual. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we fail, but we always try our best.”

  He began an evocation using a small cross on a table. At the high point of the ritual the cross rose a couple inches. I could sense it took an effort, and it quickly dropped back. Then there were prayers, an old Negro spiritual, and the meeting was over. I thanked Jerry for the wonderful experience and asked how he raised the crucifix.

  “It was not me. The glory of our Lord Jesus Christ was here, answering our prayers.”

  He really thinks the Lord came down and has no idea he or someone else in the room did it. Like all humans, he used the belief system available to understand what happened.

  And yes, you smart trouble makers are correct.

  I have done the same.

  How do I know the Lord Jesus didn’t come down?

  Just before I left I folded two McKinleys and zipped them under the cross on the table to show how generous the Lord can be when pleased with the devotion of his followers.

  CHAPTER 30

  Such a relief watching Arlene move about the kitchen. It’s her turn to make breakfast.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “Yes!” Such a beatific smile.

  “Does Barry know?”

  “No. I don’t know how to tell him.”

  “How about, ‘Barry, I’m going to have your kid?’” She laughed.

  “Yes, I should do that but I’m scared he won’t want the baby and won’t want me. What if he says I have to get an abortion?”

  “He’s pro-life! If he goes hypocrite, shoot the bastard.” Glad to see her laugh. I’ve dropped the poor little waif routine with Arlene and we’re woman to woman now.

  “You’re right, Alice, and the sooner the better. I’ll tell him tonight, but I’m scared.”

  “I’ll be here, whatever happens,” and gave her a big hug.

  ____________________

  Dr. Barteau has offered me a job as her lab assistant this summer, a job usually reserved for graduate students. I once asked why she never married but she became so sad I never asked again. I’ve become the daughter she never had and she’s become my second mother. That kind of relationship can end badly, but we have a lot more going for us than emotional hooks from the past.

  She knows I know more than I let on about the behavioral concomitants of neurological activity, but respects my reluctance to share. I on occasion, oh so subtly, guide her toward fruitful research. She’s not fooled.

  ____________________

  Karla handed me the usual mug of coffee as we sat down at the table in the back room.

  “Barry and Jerry try to live up to the ideals of Christianity. Their Shadow ability is minimal and they assume the power is coming from the Lord.”

  “Pure coincidence Barry picked Arlene at the dance? And even stranger, he went to a dance at a Unitarian Fellowship?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe I want to believe that so Arlene won’t get hurt. No! I’m a very good lie detector and those two guys are what they seem. What did you find out about the Golden group?”

  “They disbanded a few years ago. They were never heavy Holies, just a few minor incidents.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Let’s go with coincidence, for now.”

  “I have a few questions about the Holy Warriors of God. How many groups are there in the US and is there a group leading the rest?”

  “There are nine groups we know of with a loose leadership from a group in Walton, NY. That’s a small village on the west side of the Catskills. The Plattsburgh group has been trying to take over the leadership from the Walton group, so the Waltons are probably not too unhappy their rivals have dropped out of sight. But when they learn they’ve all been killed, they might feel honor bound to seek revenge, or at least find out what happened to protect themselves. They are under fairly regular surveillance so we’ll know if they plan to come to Berkeley.”

  “How good are they?”

  “Don’t know. On occasion they’ve killed people they considered dangerously evil, but were never the bloodthirsty, God fearing holies from Plattsburgh. How is the Carmel group doing?”

  “I feel guilty about that. I guess losing Linda and Greg at Monte Alban makes it too painful to go back. But I should, they are dear to me.”

  “We may need their help, along with the Glacier Gang.”

  ____________________

  The Carmel group would love to have me for the weekend. Old man Benson died a month ago and is buried alongside Skinny Santa and Linda under the cypress. That leaves only Johnny, Molly and Maggie. They want to talk about joining the Glacier Gang. And Molly is so excited. They have discovered something wonderful and can’t wait to show me.

  CHAPTER 31

  I’m tired of playing poor, little waif, so flew to Monterey. I felt so sad when I saw just Maggie, Molly and Johnny waiting at the gate. I cried a little on the way
home. They understood.

  The next morning Johnny gave us a great treat. He got up early, dug razor clams, and made clam omelets for breakfast. Bet you never had a clam omelet, and it’s best you never do. It was a culinary disaster.

  “What do you think about our joining the Glacier Gang?” Maggie asked. “You know them well.”

  “Their hunting camp at East Glacier has plenty of room and I think they also have enough room in Sarasota. Doris is their leader and Ralph is an older man, no longer very active. Ruth, Betty, David and you three make eight, which seems a comfortable size. Give them a call and talk it over. The snow is falling in northern Montana so they’re probably still in Sarasota. Maggie, you and Doris will need to get your roles straight.”

  “What kind of conflict might there be?”

  “You are both strong women, used to being in charge. You need to see if you can work together. Ok Molly, you were so excited over the phone. What’s the big deal?”

  “Stand over there Alice. Ok. Now look ahead of you near the wall. Lightly tap the left side of your pituitary.”

  Nothing.

  “Now tap the right side.”

  Oh my God! A copy of myself was standing against the wall, wearing what I‘m wearing. The colors are a little pale, and after a minute or so it faded away.

  “Wow! What was that?”

  “You said the ancient Egyptians called our invisible hands, Shadow hands,” Maggie began, “so we did some research. You just saw your Shadow. Kind of weird. Many occult traditions believe the pituitary is the link between the body and the soul. That’s one reason Hindus put a red mark in the middle of their forehead”.

  “So all those wild stories about seeing ghosts were just ways to make sense of a real experience. They were seeing Shadows.”

  “Exactly!”

  I tapped the right side of my pituitary again and walked over. There’s a slight smudge on my left cheek. Make-up too thick? She just stood there with a blank stare, silent and motionless, and then faded away.

  “OK. What do you do with it?”

  “We have no idea. We just discovered it a couple weeks ago. We’re trying to find a way to transfer our consciousness, but don’t know if we should. Maybe there’s no way back.”

  “Can you all see my Shadow?”

  “Yes, and you can see ours“

  A Shadow formed in front of each, just as motionless as mine.

  “I’m sure you’ve tapped every other part of the pituitary.”

  “Nothing,” Maggie answered. “We’ve seen a few Shadows but most don’t seem very aware, more like sleepwalkers. There were two exceptions. Last week we saw the Shadow of an old man floating over by that rock. He was looking out to sea and seemed very sad.

  “And a few days ago we went to Cannery Row and saw the Shadow of a little girl. She was very awake and aware, skipping along and looking at everything. We have no idea if her body is dead or alive, we know so little.

  “Oh! And we saw the Shadows of two large, black worms slowly circling the old man. Ugly and scary!”

  Can’t wait to sit on a bench at Sproul Plaza and watch for Shadows. Do horny Shadows spy on naked women? That must be pretty frustrating unless they can do more than look. Maybe there really are incubi, male Shadows who take advantage of sleeping women? And succubi, female Shadows who hit on sleeping guys? What a trip that would be.

  CHAPTER 32

  When I got back to Arlene’s Sunday night, she was in the kitchen tired and worried. Barry was shocked! Shocked! He needed time to think, poor dear. But just maybe Arlene set him up, told him she was on the pill. Yeah, there are ugly rumors women sometimes do that to grab their guy.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he loved me and wanted a little time to decide what to do. You were right, he didn’t say anything about an abortion.”

  “Did you tell him you were on the pill?”

  She burst into tears. “Yes! I did! I did! And I’d do it again! I want this baby, Alice, and I’m going to have it!”

  I went over and hugged her.

  “Nobody can stop you having the baby.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll miscarry,” she wailed, “or have a monster come out because of what I did to my first.”

  I held her tight and comforted her as best I could. Should I tap her calm center to make her feel better? No, that would stop the natural flow. Just comfort and reassure her we’ll go through this together, no matter what Barry do.

  “Should I tell him?”

  “Good God, no! The less guys know about such things the better.”

  ______________________

  I saw nine or ten Shadows on my way to campus but they’re hard to see from a distance. They don’t seem very aware, just drifting along.

  While eating my usual breakfast at the Bears Lair, Dennis came over and sat down. He looks more like his old self, thank God.

  “Morning Alice. You sure you can eat those two chocolate donuts all by yourself?” I gave him one, I’m not all bad. I assume he’s a gentleman and won’t steal the other one. Ashara is no lady.

  “Thanks. We would like you to come to dad’s place this Saturday, seven in the evening. Our group is going to evoke St. Francis of Assisi to help cleanse the planet of the harm done by greedy polluters.”

  “Glad to come, St. Francis is my favorite saint. I love the statue of him holding a sweet little bird and Bambi licking his toes.”

  “Good, see you then,” grabbed the other donut and ran. Damn! Just as greedy as Ashara. I was so tempted to trip him with my Shadow hands and get my donuts back but stopped myself just in time. People might wonder what two delicious chocolate donut were doing gliding through the air.

  Bought a couple more, got my cocoa high, and off to Sather Gate to watch the Shadow World.

  ____________________

  Holy shit! What is that!? A huge, slimy slug in the Shadow World was slithering past, maybe five feet long and three across, dark brown with red and yellow splotches. A heavy wave of disgust and horror went through me.

  It suddenly stopped and slowly turned the head of its slimy body toward me. She has no eyes but she sees me and knows I see her. Slow waves began to undulate back and forth along her body. Suddenly a three-foot long, black worm pooped out her rear. No fart ever sounded so bad or smelled so awful.

  The black worm started floating toward me with its huge mouth open. The swirling nothingness of that open mouth was going to suck me in. I freaked! I don’t freak, but I freaked and ran into the Bear’s Lair. When I looked out the window mommy and poop were gone. What would have happened if that worm had sucked me in? I have no idea but the thought brought back the horror of my worst nightmare.

  When I got back to the Plaza I noticed a movement over on my left and got ready to run. No, it wasn’t a black worm or its slimy mommy. It was a naked male Shadow with a hard on. He was running in and out of the crowd hitting on girls.

  Not much of an incubus. All he could do was run up and jerk against them a couple times. Probably the only way the little pervert can get a little. Too bad I don’t know how to activate my Shadow. I’d have fun teaching him what real rape is. That thought sure feels a hell of a lot better than the fear and horror from that slimy slug and her sweet poop.

  I saw maybe nine or ten more shadows. Mostly professors and students wandering in and out of Sproul Plaza, all sleep walkers. A beautiful Shadow girl in a bikini came into the Plaza and danced to her boyfriend’s bongo drums for a while.

  Oh! Oh! Just to the side of Sather Gate was the Shadow of a little, old man sitting on a fancy, wrought iron Shadow bench. He’s wearing a brown robe and hood. The monk, friar or whatever was awake and aware but when I walked over he ignored me.

  A very impolite Man of God? Or maybe scared what a hot, beautiful woman would do to his vow of celibacy. I don’t want to brag, but have found that Men of God are very easy prey.

  CHAPTER 33

  Arlene and I were having breakfast the next morning when
Barry called. She motioned me to pick up the other phone.

  “Hi Barry, what did you decide?”

  “I want to marry you Arlene, but there’s something that might get in the way.”

  “Yes? What might that be?”

  “My children have to be good Christians. Is that a problem for you?”

  “That must mean you want me to become a good Christian too.”

  “Yes I do”

  “That sounds non-negotiable.”

  “Yes, I have to be straight with you. My love of Christ is the central part of my life, and I want the Lord to be the central part of your life as well.”

  “That isn’t something you decide, Barry. He’s not a central part of my life now, and may never be.”

  There was a long, sad silence as they realized the moment of truth had arrived.

  “I love you Arlene, but I love the Lord more.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If you can’t accept the Lord as your savior, we don’t have a future together.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that Barry. I wish you well.” Hung up, and burst into tears.

  Wicked thoughts came swirling out of the blackness. I go to one of their meetings and all hell breaks loose. And I mean the She-Devil sends all those religious symbols crashing around the room, and then runs over to the crucifix on the wall. First she colors Christ’s face a sickly green, then a shocking pink. At the grand climax of the diabolical orgy, Christ’s face bursts into bright red flames, and melts into a black, slimy, smelly mess.

  But I would never do that. They are decent people trying to live good lives. They have a very rigid belief system but whether that’s good or bad is not for me to decide. Yes, and mine is just as rigid, so who am I to throw a stone. Barry’s sin was to get involved with a woman he knew would not accept Christ as her savior. Testosterone’s infernal heat kept that awareness far, far away.

  The phone rang.

  “Arlene, I love you. Please, please come to our services a few times to see if there is any chance you can accept the Lord.”