by Dermot Davis
“Yeah, I feel you,” Henry said, sounding to Andrew like he could be stoned. “It’s not easy.”
“I’m serious,” Andrew said. “How can anybody live like this?”
“You gotta keep hope alive, I guess,” Henry answered. "You don't have hope, you die."
“Are you stoned?” Andrew asked.
“Keep it down,” Henry said, looking to see who was around. “You want something?”
“What?” Andrew asked.
“It’s not cheap but you can pretty much get whatever you want,” Henry answered, looking around cautiously. “Just stay cool and keep it on the down-low.”
“Keep what on the down-low?” Andrew asked, like Henry was talking like a crazy person. “You’re talking about drugs?” he asked in a loud whisper.
“What do you think I’m talking about?” Henry asked. “Drugs, cell phones, cigarettes, knives, porn… whatever you want, you can get. Just don’t get caught.”
“So, you are stoned,” Andrew said.
“Everybody is stoned,” Henry said, grinning. “Maybe not all at the same time but pretty much, yeah, everybody. Friggin’ unbearable otherwise, wouldn’t you say?”
“I guess,” Andrew said, trying not to pass judgment.
“Don’t ask the questions if you can’t handle the answers,” Henry said. “You can’t handle the truth!” he then said, doing an impression that took Andrew by surprise
“Steady on there, Henry,” Andrew said, looking around. “You don’t want to make it obvious.”
“You’re worried about the law?” Henry asked.
“Of course,” Andrew answered, like it was a dumb question. “They’re kinda running things around here.”
“Who do you think started the drug problem in this country?” Henry asked.
“Who?” Andrew asked back.
“Yeah, who do you think started this whole drug epidemic in the first place? Have a guess.”
“I don’t know,” Andrew answered. “Don’t want to sound racist or anything…”
“The blacks?” Henry asked bluntly. “The Mexicans? The Columbian cartels? The Mafia? Who?”
“All of the above?” Andrew answered.
“Nah,” Henry said, making the sound of a buzzer like he gave the wrong answer on a game show. “The CIA,” Henry then said. “The law. The very same people that you say are running the place. You got that part right.”
“The CIA?” Andrew asked.
“Look it up,” Henry said firmly. “Ever hear of the Iran-Contra scandal?”
“Heard of it,” Andrew answered.
“Yeah, bet you they never taught you that bit of American history in your public school or your fancy university,” Henry said as they continued walking in a circuit. “Back when Reagan was president the CIA secretly sold guns to Iran. They were also secretly working with the drug cartels in Central America to ship drugs into the states. They used the money they made from drugs to buy guns. They gave the guns to the Contra rebels who were fighting communism in Nicaragua. True story,” Henry said, smiling at the look of shock and puzzlement on Andrew’s face. “Don’t believe me, look it up in Wikipedia and wherever else you get your truth on.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t as clear cut as all that,” Andrew said. “Maybe some bad apples giving everyone a bad name.”
“Yeah, you go on believing that,” Henry said sarcastically. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Just sounds, I don’t know, a bit far-fetched?” Andrew said, hoping not to hurt Henry’s feelings.
“Oh, it’s far-fetched, all right,” Henry said, grinning. “It’s nothing if not far-fetched, which is why no one wanted to believe it. Same thing with Watergate, the JFK assassination, the gulf of Tonkin, the Martin Luther King Assassination, nine-eleven, the Skull and Bones society, the Bilderberg Group… you have no clue what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Not so much,” Andrew answered. “Doesn’t really affect me, I guess.”
“Doesn’t affect you?” Henry asked and laughed. “Are you shitting me? Of course it affects you; it affects all of us. Anything the powers-that-be do in secret affects every single person living on this planet. You probably think you live in a free society, yeah? Home of the brave and the free?”
“Of course,” Andrew answered.
“If we’re living so free why does this country incarcerate more people than any other country in the world? Imagine all the people around the world who are in prison, right now,” Henry said, stopping in place.
“Okay,” Andrew said, imagining it.
“Of all those people, and that includes communist countries and dictatorships and all the countries that we like to bust their balls for lacking in basic human rights… of all the people in jail, this country owns close to 25 percent of their asses. That’s like, a quarter of the total number of prisoners on earth is in this country! To put that in context, we have less than five percent of the total world population. Think about that,” Henry said and walked off.
Not knowing what to think and not really caring to think about it, Andrew caught back up with him. “You mentioned that secret society,” Andrew said.
“The Skull and Bones? What about it?”
“Secret societies exist?” Andrew asked, thinking about Fiona’s father but not really knowing what he wanted to ask. “I mean, what do they do, exactly?”
“Secret societies run this world,” Henry said in all seriousness. “They run the friggin’ world.”
Fiona had her cell phone confiscated by her father and was confined to the house. She was told that as long as she remained under the roof of her father’s home, she was to follow his rules. Sitting by her main window, she looked out longingly in the direction of where Andrew was imprisoned. She tried to imagine what life was now like for him. Her heart ached and as she tuned into his heart, she found her own heart ached even more. He is in so much pain, she realized.
Missing him much more, now that it was visiting day at the prison, she tried not to think about it. She knew how much it would mean to him for her to visit. For her own peace of mind, however, she didn’t allow herself to dwell on such thoughts.
“Give it time,” Simon said to her as she went down to the kitchen to make herself something to eat. “I know that it can’t be easy for you but with enough time, things will get better.”
“No, they won’t,” Fiona responded, refusing to even comment on how naïve he was being. “You don’t have work today?” she asked, knowing very well that he was staying home to prevent her from leaving.
“No,” he answered casually. “Well, I’m working from home today, actually.”
“Me, too,” Fiona responded with a hint of sarcasm. Staring into the large fridge, she soon decided that she really wasn’t hungry, after all.
“You should eat something,” Simon said as he took a large bite of his sandwich. “I haven’t seen you eat anything in days. Look at you,” he said, pointing at her skinny and frail-looking torso. You’re wasting away.”
“Yeah,” Fiona said, as if disinterested in anything he had to say. Grabbing a small bottle of juice, she closed the fridge door and left the kitchen. Watching her go, Simon felt a pang in his heart. He couldn't bear to see her looking and feeling so sad. He was mildly concerned about the weight loss but certain that, in a few days, she would begin to forget about Andrew and would eat again.
Once the daily prisoner count was finished, the prisoners were allowed to move about again. Andrew hung out in his cell so that he could be called for visiting. Expecting to see Fiona, he was concerned that he looked dirty and his hair scruffy. “Cox,” a guard called as he approached the cell. “You have a visitor.”
Escorted to the visiting room, he walked briskly and could barely contain his excitement. Directed to sit at a seat at a long table on the prisoner side, he looked expectantly at the line of visitors as they entered. So focused upon seeing Fiona, he was surprised to see Dowling enter. “Professor Dowling?” he said,
almost like a question.
“How are you holding up?” Dowling asked as he sat opposite.
“It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming,” Andrew then said, adjusting to his surprise visitor.
“Are they treating you okay?” Dowling asked, feeling a bit awkward and wondering if he should have made the visit.
“You get used to it, I guess,” Andrew answered. “How have you been?”
“Still moving stuff in and out of storage, if you can believe it,” Dowling answered. “You know, I figured you might have had some questions,” he continued, as if justifying some purpose for his visit. “The way it went down in Kansas?”
“Yeah, I never did figure out how everyone just showed up like that,” Andrew said, his memory faint as if it were in the distant past.
“When you told me you were going to your father’s place?" Dowling asked. "I felt a bit worried for you, I guess, so I contacted your mum. Hope you didn’t mind?”
“No, not at all,” Andrew replied.
“When she told me that Fiona’s father had also contacted her, then I got more worried. When I found out that he was going after you, I decided to hitch a ride with him…”
As Dowling explained the course of events that led up to their meeting in the motel in Dodge City, Andrew listened as attentively as he could. Unable to fully concentrate, he stole sporadic glances towards the entrance to see if Fiona might appear. Maybe she's unwell, he thought, concerned that he had not heard from her.
He tried not to give any heed to a nagging voice in the back of his head that was telling him that she had moved on. Unable and unwilling to deal with his impossible situation, she had probably decided that what was best for both of them was a clean break. If she wrote him a letter explaining it all, wouldn't he have received it yet? Did the guards decide not to deliver it?
“So when I saw you two running down the stairs like that, I knew that he had turned you guys in,” Dowling continued. “He’s probably locked her up in her room,” he then said, as if reading Andrew’s thoughts.
“Of course he has!” Andrew exclaimed, like he hadn’t had that thought. Hearing it being said made perfect sense, however. “He so totally has her under lock and key! He took away her phone!” he said, like a mystery had just been solved. “She can’t leave the house to go anywhere! Wow!”
“She loves you very much, Andrew,” Dowling said like he felt that it was something Andrew needed to hear. “I could tell by the way she looks at you. She loves you very deeply.”
“Thank you, Gus,” Andrew said, now feeling emotional. “I love her deeply, too.”
“I know you do, Andrew,” Dowling said. “What happens now? I mean, it’s not like you guys can talk and draw up some kind of a plan,” Dowling said, trying to be delicate. “You’ve just got to take it day by day, right?”
“Yeah,” Andrew said, sounding sad. “Day by day, I guess.”
The sun had dropped below the horizon but for a long time Fiona lay awake on her bed and stared into the darkness. Missing Andrew so horribly and wanting so desperately to visit with him, she prepared herself to leave her body. If she could do it before, maybe she still had some ability. She hoped she could still do it. “I want to leave my body,” she commanded her subconscious mind.
When she heard what sounded like a powerful rush of wind all around her, in her mind’s ear, she knew that it was going to work. Holding fast to her deep focus and concentration, her body began to glow. Looking like a bright light, with blue tints around the edges, her astral body began to separate from her physical body. As strong vibrations shook her from head to toe, the power and sound of the internal wind intensified to a deafening volume.
As the light body completely separated from her material body, all sounds and all vibrations ceased. Feeling an immediate sense of beauty, lightness and joy, Fiona’s spirit hovered in the air. She looked down at her body lying motionless on the bed. “Yes!” she said to herself. “I’m free!”
An ethereal silver cord connected her spirit to the navel of her physical body. She intuitively knew that that was the lifeline to keep her material body alive. If she were to sever that, the physical body would perish and she would exist only as a spirit.
Feeling almost giddy with her new-found lightness of being, she knew that there were no limits to her freedom. I can travel anywhere, she thought, as she commanded her light body to leave the house. Rising up above the roof of the house and heading upwards towards the luminous sky, Fiona was free. All she needed to do was think of where she wanted to be and she knew that she would be transported there instantaneously.
I can go up; I can go down, she said to herself, her movements matching her thoughts. Looking up at the almost full moon, she briefly considered a visit and then discarded the idea. “I want to fly to Andrew,” she then said to herself. She knew that of all the places in all the world, and all the galaxy, it was with Andrew that she longed to be.
Deliberately flying at a slow speed, her spirit moved towards downtown. Admiring the beauty of the lights, and the movement of the cars below, her spirit flew above the city as if she were a bird. Or perhaps, she thought to herself, this is what it’s like to be an angel. This is so amazing, she thought to herself as the lights of the city below twinkled and dazzled so radiantly that they glimmered like multi-faceted brilliant diamonds and jewels.
When she thought of Andrew, had a clear mental picture of him in his cell… she was instantly there.
Andrew's cell looked different to the first time that she had astrally visited. Back then, everything was indistinct and very much a blur. This time around, she could see more clearly. Reacting to the negative energy of the building, she could feel her own vibration drop. It was if she had just landed in the equivalent of a cold and inhospitable, dank, dark, swamp. The cell was so small, gloomy and claustrophobic that she felt that, if stayed longer than a few seconds, she could positively get ill.
Seeing Andrew asleep in the top bunk made her feel like her heart was about to tear open. Filled with a mix of joy, delight, love, fear and sadness, she began to lose focus. The heady combination of powerful emotions almost caused her to pass out. Thoughts and emotions were much more potent in this light body form, she considered. She needed to stay present and alert.
If she did pass out, she knew that she would simply return her to her physical body. However, she still didn’t want to lose control of her consciousness in that way. She wished to master her experience and to learn how to be in control of her spirit, at all times.
Knowing now that, through this experience, when the body dies, the spirit lives on was a huge delight to her. Although it was what she had always believed and intuitively suspected, to experience it first-hand was immensely satisfying and comforting to her.
Overpowered by the seriously low energy of the prison, she knew that to stay any longer might put her in spiritual jeopardy of some kind. Before leaving, Fiona blew sweet kisses toward Andrew as he lay sleeping. Hoping that she might secure him some happy dreams, she told him that she loved him, many times over.
Wishing to be back in the comfort and safety of her own room, she was instantaneously there. As she opened her eyes, she was immediately struck by the weight and crude density of her physical body. Wow, it actually feels unnatural inhabiting a body of flesh, she thought. That's weird. She was exhausted, yet elated.
Exhilarated by the thought that she could visit Andrew any time she so desired, she smiled. If she could teach him the same technique, they could then visit together! How amazing would that be! I have found the answer, she giggled to herself; giddy at the thought of them both, hand-in-hand, flying, traveling, and exploring the galaxy, together.
Starved of any communication from Fiona, Andrew found it increasingly hard to get out of bed in the morning. Trundling through his day, his feet moved like they were getting heavier and heavier. He wondered how long he could go on without seeing her face; without hearing her sweet voice.
“Watch y
our back,” Henry had told him soon after he had returned to the cell. “Word is, Duke and his gang are out to get you.”
Andrew had passed Duke many times in the yard, the cafeteria and generally around the prison. Each time, Duke had given him a menacing look. He had wondered why Duke hadn't yet made his move. Was he teasing him in some way? Making him sweat? Since the attempted escape, Duke had served some time in solitary. He was being closely watched since. Maybe he's waiting for the heat to die down, Andrew reckoned.
As the days went by, Andrew became less scared of Duke. As his depression over Fiona’s absence increased, he grew more and more ambivalent. So what if they roughed him up or even killed him, he thought as he walked aimlessly around the exercise yard. Maybe they’d be doing him a favor. Life without Fiona was pretty much meaningless, anyway.
Although he considered that a life without Fiona was not worth living, he felt torn inside. Constantly missing her and wanting her was making the hurt feel ten times more painful. What’s worse? he asked himself: to live without Fiona knowing that he would not see her again or to live without Fiona wishing that he could be with her again?
I can’t do this, he then said to himself. I can’t live like this and I can’t do this to her. This has to stop. Although it was as horrible a thought as he had ever had, for the sake of them both, he knew what he had to do. We must end the illusion of ever being together, before it destroys us both. Keeping the fantasy of a future life of happiness together was killing him, it had to be killing them both.
“Cox!” a guard yelled as he approached. “You have a visitor.”
Surprised about who might be visiting, he realized that he had forgotten that it was visiting day. Expecting to see his mother again, or possibly Dowling, he followed as the guard escorted him to the visiting room. Bracing himself for yet another emotional outpouring from his mother, Andrew sat on the prisoner side of the long table.
Watching the line of visitors as they entered the room, his eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw Fiona appear amongst them. Looking absolutely resplendent in a flowing, floral summer dress, she looked so radiant that she glowed. Seeming so out of place among the other, mainly ethnic visitors, Fiona beamed a bright, white smile so beautiful and large it was like someone just opened the door to let the sunlight beam through.