Last Writes (25 page)

The first thing she noticed was the scent of patchouli. In the light from the hallway she could see black velvet-draped walls and a mirror on the wall across from the door. A shelf below the mirror held a half-dozen candles, an incense burner, a glass of water, and a vase of dead roses whose petals littered the floor like pale pink snowflakes.

Stedman lit the candles and closed the door. “I come here to meditate,” he said. “It’s where I hear the Lord the clearest when he chooses to speak to me.”

He took the glass of water from the shelf and dumped it out into a container, then filled it with fresh water from a ewer and placed it on a low table in the center of the carpeted floor. Next, he went to a black lacquer cabinet. A fluorescent light came on inside when he opened the doors and Claudia could see several shelves containing what appeared to be scrolls. Stedman removed one and brought it to the table.

He gestured for her to sit on a floor cushion. “You know that the Bible is called the Holy Writ?”

“Yes, of course.”

“There are other documents, authoritative documents that might be placed in that category.”

“I thought the Bible was the only one.”

“The Bible
as we know it
is made up of sixty-six books. Why not more books inspired by the Lord?” He looked down at her seated on the cushion and asked another question. “Do you know anything about automatic writing?”

“I’ve read something about it. Are you talking about automatic writing that comes from the unconscious? Or from an entity outside the writer?”

“Spirit speaks to me through my pen,” Stedman said enigmatically. The candle flames flickered, jumping and dipping, distorting the shadows as he knelt on the floor across the table from Claudia. In that ghostly light he could as easily have been an angel or a demon. He pointed to the glass of water he had placed on the table. “Water is highly conductive of spirit energy. It allows me to better open myself to receive the messages that come through. Perhaps you would like to see a demonstration?”

“I’m not sure.”

He smiled at her reassuringly. “I promise,
nothing
will harm you. I will sit quietly for a few minutes, channeling my energy.”

He unrolled several feet of the scroll and laid it out so that a blank area covered the table from one edge to the other. He didn’t offer to show it to her, but Claudia could see that it was filled from edge to edge with some sort of handwriting.

Stedman got up and came around to her side of the table. She shifted to make room for him to join her on the cushion, aware again of his unusual body heat radiance as he sat cross-legged beside her.

He sipped from the water glass, then took a ballpoint pen from his pocket. Holding it in a light grip near the tip, he hovered the pen slightly above the scroll and put one hand on the paper to steady it.

“You can now rest your hand lightly on the back of mine,” he said. “Don’t try to guide my hand, just go along for the ride and see if something happens. It may or it may not.” He closed his eyes and drew a long, deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. The sound of his breathing filled the room.
In. Out. In. Out.
He began to quietly hum,
“Om.”

After a few moments, Claudia began to relax and closed her own eyes. Her breathing slowed to match his. The mind chatter that often plagued her when she tried to meditate quieted, dissolved. All she was aware of was her respiration and his.
In. Out. In. Out.
His hand felt cool under hers.

After several minutes, Stedman’s hand started to move. Claudia’s eyes flew open and she watched his hand race across the page, back and forth. It was all she could do to keep the contact. She guessed he must have covered fifty lines before he let go of the pen and his arm fell away from her touch.

He seemed to crumple in on himself, panting a little.

“Are you all right?” Claudia asked, concerned. “Do you need anything?”

He shook his head and spoke in a weak voice. “It takes a toll on my energy to make contact with the Lord God.”

She looked down at the scroll to see what mysterious messages he might have written there. It looked to her like an EEG printout—rows and rows of jagged lines; peaks and valleys, no discernible words at all. His normal handwriting had been hard enough to read, this was impossible. Stedman had intimated that he was inspired to add to the Holy Writ. This looked more like
un
holy writ to her.

“Can you read what it says?” she asked. “I’m afraid I can’t.”

Now that he had recovered, his smile had a slightly superior edge. “Of course you can’t.” He pointed to the final line of writing. To her eyes it was no more legible than the rest. “See here, it speaks of requiring the new blood of the Lamb.”

“The blood of Christ?”

“No, no. That sacrifice was already made. This is a new day with new evils. Thus, a new lamb is required.”

Claudia felt as though she could hardly breathe. She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. “What does that mean?”

There was an uncanny light in his eyes as he swung his gaze her way. When he spoke, his voice was higher-pitched, overwrought, and she thought he must still be partly in a trance state. “The Lord watches over his people. The light gets brighter and we adjust our thinking as we learn. The end of days is near. We must be prepared.”

Whatever was going on here was giving Claudia the creeps. She scrambled to her feet. “Mr. Stedman, I’m leaving now. Will you be all right?”

Stedman blinked at her. “What?” He looked down at the scroll on the table as if seeing it for the first time.

 

 

 

Without waiting for Harold Stedman, Claudia left the underground shelter and went straight to the infirmary, determined to take Kelly and leave the compound immediately.

Kelly tried to stand on her own but her legs were still rubbery and needed a wheelchair for the long walk out to the parking lot. Martha Elkins protested loudly at every step about letting her patient go in that condition, but she looked secretly pleased to be getting rid of the “outsiders.”

Claudia couldn’t care less how Martha felt about their departure. She had actually been surprised that no one tried to stop them from driving through the gate, and couldn’t stop glancing in the rearview mirror until they got on the freeway.

As soon as she could, she phoned Jovanic and told him they were on their way home.

“You can expect to be debriefed by the FBI,” he said. “I’ve been talking to the agent in charge. We’re trying to set up a meeting tonight. We can make it at your house.”

“That’s fine. I can tell him about Lynn Ryder snooping in my computer, Kelly being drugged, Stedman’s paranoia—”

“He’ll want to know all of that. Just answer his questions as fully as you can. But remember, you’re not supposed to know about their undercover operative. I’d get my ass handed to me—”

“Don’t worry, baby, your ass is safe with me.”

He snickered and rang off.

 

Kelly dozed on and off most of the way back to the San Fernando Valley. During her waking times, Claudia brought her up to date on what she had learned from James Miller about Rodney, as well as her strange visit to Harold Stedman’s sanctum. The drug Dr. Jarrett had given Kelly seemed to be taking a long time to wear off and Claudia wasn’t convinced she would retain much of the conversation.

She kept her promise not to breathe a word to Kelly, but she was worried about the FBI operation and prayed it would not end up a Waco or Ruby Ridge. Her impression of most of the Ark residents she’d met was that they were good, decent people. She liked Rita and young Esther a lot. Even Martha Elkins and Lynn Ryder were just protecting their turf. She would not want to see any of them come to harm.

She had come to recognize that James Miller and the rest of them were all true believers, willing to blindly follow the governing board. That was the one thing she could fault them for: their willingness to reject
independent thinking
as they had been so thoroughly conditioned to do
.

On the other hand, she could fault the leaders for far worse: brainwashing members, hypnotizing, drugging, spying. Probably a long list of other offenses, too. Everyone should be free to choose his or her own path, and it troubled her that the TBL members seemed to have been misled.

She thought again of James, torn between loyalty to his friend and his fear of displeasing his spiritual leaders. The conflict in attempting to serve both masters had turned him into a tortured soul. She thought of Karen Harrison, the latest inductee into the Temple of Brighter Light. Karen had happily turned her life over to the elders and accepted their rules for daily living. Yet, Claudia could not deny that overall the TBL members seemed happy and contented.

Reaching into the storage console between the seats she selected a Down to the Bone CD. That should push the Ark insanity out of her head for the rest of the ride home.

 

It was close to seven by the time they had covered the hundred or so miles to Toluca Lake. They were lucky enough to find parking on the street a couple of buildings down from Kelly’s condo.

Gently, Claudia shook her friend’s arm. “Come on, kiddo, wake up. I can’t carry you.”

Kelly opened her eyes and stretched, gave a big yawn. “Wow, we’re already here? That was fast.”

“Two and a half hours in stop-and-go traffic is fast only if you’re snoring through it, old pal.” Claudia popped the trunk and got out. She lifted out Kelly’s computer bag and handed it to her, rolled her suitcase over to the sidewalk.

Kelly slung the computer bag over her shoulder, staggering a little. “I can’t wait to see what kinds of post-hypnotic suggestions those motherfuckers planted in my head. Woo-hoo!”

Claudia steadied her, hoping she would not suffer any aftereffects from her experiences at the Ark. “There’s your new excuse for off-the-wall behavior—and, where you’re concerned, that covers a lot of ground.”

They grinned at each other, both relieved to be far away from the strangeness of the Ark and its inhabitants.

“Maybe I should sue the crap out of ’em,” Kelly said. “Or we could just go to a bar and drink Seven-Up, see if we can recruit some believers.”

Claudia grabbed the suitcase. “I see the post-hypnotic stuff is already working. Let’s get your bags inside.”

 

Erin held open the screen door to Kelly’s condo and stood aside to let them in. She looked at her sister with concern. “Kelly, are you okay?”

“Why do you ask that, Erin? Could it be that I look like I’ve been narcotized and stupefied?”

“What are you talking about?”

Ignoring her, Kelly stumbled inside, leaving her computer bag by the front door. She threw herself on the couch and flung her arm over her eyes.

Claudia stood the suitcase beside the computer bag and collapsed the handle. “Your friends at the Ark got hold of her and we don’t know what they did. She’s lost an entire day of her life. God knows what drugs they used, or what suggestions they might have given her under hypnosis.”

Erin’s mouth dropped and her eyes got big and round. “They would never do that. Drug someone? No way.”

“Yes, way, Miss Holier Than Thou,” Kelly said. “I think they ground up Bible passages and force-fed them to me. I keep wanting to spout Matthew 24:14.”

“Matthew 24 is about the end of the world,” Erin said.

“Oh, really? Claud, would you get me a Coke? I need a blast of caffeine in a major way.”

Claudia went into the kitchen, wondering what Kelly would have to say to her sister while she was out of the room. When she returned a few moments later they were glaring at each other like two angry tigers ready to tear out the other’s throat.

Erin turned her back on Kelly and spoke to Claudia. “So, what did you find out? Do you know where Kylie is?”

“Why, yes, I do.” Claudia was unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She opened the Coke and set it on the coffee table within Kelly’s reach. “But first, try this on for size: Harold Stedman thinks your child is the new blood of the lamb. Do you find that at all problematic? What the hell is he thinking?”

Erin waved that off as if it were of no consequence. “That’s symbolic. Tell me where she is. Where has Rod taken her?”

“He’s got her holed up at some bimbo’s house,” Kelly interjected, and grinned with malicious pleasure at the shock on her sister’s face. “Gotcha, Erin. They’re with James Miller’s niece.”

“James’s niece? You can’t mean Tabby Barton?”

“Uh-huh, Tabby, like a cat.”

“But he
can’t
be with Tabby, she’s excommunicated! He’s not even supposed to say hello to her.”

“It looks like your husband decided to do a little independent thinking,” Claudia said.

“But that’s so dangerous.”

“What’s more dangerous is wanting to send your child away to live in a convent and never seeing her again!”

Erin gasped. Tears welled in her eyes and she ran from the room. They heard the bathroom door slam behind her.

Claudia turned to Kelly. “Was that too mean?”

“She’ll get over it. We’ve done her a massive favor. I just told her where Kylie is. Now she can go get her back and save her from the damn convent.”

Knowing about the planned FBI action, Claudia couldn’t help feeling uneasy about the situation. “Do
me
a favor and see if you can get that note back from her. The one she said was from Rodney.”

“Why? We’re done, aren’t we?”

“I just want to check something out.”

Kelly started to ask what she was thinking when Erin returned to the living room dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “I don’t know how to thank you both for everything you did, going to the Ark like that. I’m so grateful. I hope you can see we’re not just a bunch of nut jobs.”