Azotusland

5/3/2013
Azotusland
Readers Copy
2005 Christopher C. MacDonald
First Readers Copy | 2005 Christopher C. MacDonald
Azotusland
Readers Copy
Chapter 1
It was 2 a.m. when Stephano unlocked the front door to the main Azotus Caf with a flashlight key. In the moonlight he could still see the three separate sayings wood-burned into the thick redwood framing around the large doors: Accuracy is Important down the left side; Over-Communication is Underrated down the right; and Context is Everything over the top. Moving inside, and quietly locking the door behind himself, Stephano moved back behind the long counters, went through the kitchen and into the back office area. Once there he let himself into Jims small office as he did five nights a week, never wasting a motion or time for Jim paid him $1,000 a week cash for a job that was short, detailed and task oriented. He locked the door carefully and moved to the back closet and unlocked it. Once inside he jammed the steel handle into the locked upright position and pressed the flush pressure sensitive button in the middle. The elevator silently started downward and stopped 16 feet below. The door opened and Stephano switched on the running lights. It was a cozy area which looked more like a wide corridor shrouded mostly in darkness with the small inset blue lights running down both sides of the floor. Stephano had insisted on the blue lights to Jim. If you want me to play your Alfred Pennyworth then I get a few things my way, he said. Jim had agreed with a smile for he had chosen Stephano for this special job for two reasons: his nerdish skill and competence with all technical and hardware issues, and his utter discretion as a former Jesuit priest in training. Tall, dark and thin with a stylish five-day old beard, Stephano sat at the main console and read the nights itinerary.
Evening S, Excellent work last week in all areas. If I have not said it recently you deserve a raise. Stephano smiled. He did deserve another raise after faithful service for four years and he would ask for one next month at his yearly review and get it. Usual restocking. Wood floors need a once over with Murphys. Thats all. Just keep all regular projects moving ahead. ~J
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He checked all his various email accounts, fired off a few replies through secure channels then stood, stretched then walked around to the store room. By the dolly were three large boxes of DVDs and books from Amazon, a case of white Bordeaux, and a box from Telfords which probably had a few pipes and some aromatic tobacco inside. Wheeling the stack artfully onto the small elevator, he locked the door and found the third button to descend deeper into the mountainside. At 5:20 a.m. the alarm went on dragging Maugham into consciousness. A quick hot shower followed by a quick towel dry and a black band to tie back his long blond hair and he was out the door of The Bunkhouse by 5:50. He stopped at OPS (the nerve center at the very top of the entire Azotus Caf complex) and began hitting keyboards to wake up the computers. At the same time, 135 feet below, Stephano emerged silently from the backside of the complex near the dumpsters and walked towards town. With the exception of the occasional dog-walker, Stephano was rarely seen and easily forgotten with no visible footprint. All his work was done. Jim had rolled off the bed as the clock blinked 5:30. Rubbing his eyes, he clipped the bookshelf with his shoulder as he shuffled around the bed in his small room and slogged into the tiny kitchen. He grabbed a Hornsby Cider from the fridge, twisted the cap, took a swig and lazily headed back towards the bathroom. Turning the hot water knob, he then sat on the can and took another swig, waiting for the hot water to snake up to the top of the old converted mansion. The steam billowed in a few minutes and he stripped off his shorts and lumbered into the shower. He felt good as the soap and water was plentiful as he tugged and raked the thick hair on his head. After toweling off he looked in the mirror. The face that stared back was older now and that did not make him happy. Five minutes later, the doors of the Azotus Caf would open and customers like Frank, Ted and Melinda would be there waiting if he didnt hurry. He slipped on some shorts, ran his hands through his hair and slung on a dark flannel shirt. Taking a last slug from the Hornsby, he squeezed some toothpaste into his mouth and headed damply out the door. The main door to the upper cafe was only 20 feet down the walkway. He stopped in just short of it, at a small door to the left, punched in the code, and entered Ops to check his emails. Maugham had been there and left. The usual spam had gotten through. Seven emails about fake Rolex watches, six from anonymous women in their 20s who supposedly wanted to meet him, and four advertising Viagra in soft-gel form. As he was checking ones to be deleted, one email looked different. There were no contents but the tag line simply said I will see you. The return address was Rnonymous@azotuscafe.com. Whatever, he said to the cold room then left for cafe next door. Roo had been in the cafe since 5 a.m., and was on beam as usual. Out in the main area, the room was awakening with Frank, Ted and Melinda already in their usual places. In the far corner was a
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couple Jim had never seen before. When Jim had settled in behind the counter, Roo would go downstairs to prepare The Doghouse, known as The Doghouse for its opening at 7 a.m. Maugham had earlier walked down from the top floor, past the grotto, to the bottom patio after stopping and asking Roo for an espresso and some thin stacks of cheese. Theres some leftovers in the IC Roo said. And hit Andy for your course and grift she said not unkindly. Maugham tried to clear his eyes. The light fog was lifting over Red Hill and the crows were braying and the sun hit the rooftop of the caf building and spilled down below. An intensely yellow sun flooded the whole eastern side of the complex and splayed North and South. He made his way down to the lower level and ducked into the IC, which was blandly labeled Internet Caf. Andy! Maugham called out as he hit one of the keyboards to awaken it. Then he walked around behind the small espresso bar and started to pack a load into the machine when Andy came around the corner. Mog! Troll! Andy shook his head, not fond of Maughams various nicknames for folk. Roo says theres food. Yeah, down at the end in the last fridge. Maugham picked through and found some Muenster slices in a tray, grabbed some old bread and finished making his Americano. He started the usual web searches and jotted down some easy notes. Upstairs Ted had managed to hit on a new victim, actually two of them. After eavesdropping, he managed to interject an irrelevant notion about Intelligent Design into the young couples conversation about the window shopping they wanted to do in Sausalito. Within minutes it was a three-way debate and temperatures were rising. Renata had arrived a few minutes after Jim, and Hans was right behind her. She spied Ted and came over. Are you harassing this lovely couple Ted? No, we are just discussing Yes, she said then turned to the couple, if you ignore him eventually he moves off for other prey she said smiling. Would you like some more coffee? No, were fine, offered the woman, we have to be going in about five minutes anyway. With that, Ted turned his chair back around and muttered nice talking. Some of the other usuals came in at 6:30 before the larger rush at 7 a.m. where Jim, Manfred and
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Renata ran the morning rush. Roo, Martine and Hans took care of The Doghouse one floor down. Andy watched over the IC, but only used the small espresso bar for folks in the afternoons so they did not have to go up two more flights. Later, around 11 a.m., Hans, Roo and Martine would close up the The Doghouse, but leave the doors open to the library on the South side. Hans would then go and open the Gallery and Studio on the North side of the old complex. Roo had classes mid-day and Martine used the time to do bookkeeping and also to prepare for whatever performances were scheduled for either the library, The Doghouse, or both. The other staff only worked in spots. Jeremy ran the kids area, The Batcave from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., and then again from 6 to 8 p.m. Jim was in charge of all movie events in the small theater next door at ground level, and Jonathan did a remarkable job of doing all the custodial work as well as entertaining people with his seemingly unending variety of impersonations and ad lib comedy bits. Most of employees biked in from local neighborhoods except Jim who lived in the Bunkhouse, and Andy who lived in a small room off the IC (and was rumored to have not seen direct sunlight for over a decade). Maugham had a small section of the room called Ops, which essentially ran the whole complex, and was in charge of security. Jim liked to call him Mogham P.I. with no small amount of derision. Oh, and of course, there was Manfred. No one was quite sure where Manfred came from, but he also resided in the Bunkhouse with his own small room off Jims.
Manfred just sort of showed up one day about 5 years earlier, some three years before Jim moved down to Marin and bought the old mansion on the hill and renovated it into the Gothic Azotus Caf complex.
Maugham had met Jim 20 years earlier in 1988 at a thing called Word Jam at Caf Paris in downtown Sacramento. Despite completely different world views they had became fast friends and started hanging together. Soon, they were like twins separated at birth. In the Spring of 2003, Maugham showed up with a couple bottles of wine and a rotisserie chicken for their usual movie night with Jim when Manfred answered the door. Hellooo! a small brown man exclaimed loudly. Hi, ummmwho are you? I am Manfred! he said even louder with a big toothy grin. Maugham shook his hand. He didnt look harmful (only later would the real truth be known), in fact Maugham thought he looked a little bit like Ben Kingsley. Between that and his quasi-East Indian accent he had, upon first glance, a sort of Ghandi-esque quality to him.
Azotusland Jim came down. You two met?
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Indeed Sahib! Mister Mogmanns has come with libation and a bird. Maugham looked at Jim like this was the start of a bad practical joke. Still, they had an enjoyable dinner and watched The Wind and the Lion on Jims big screen. Manfred was silent throughout the evening, but Maugham noticed he ate more than his share of the chicken, kind of wolfing it down. Later, in the kitchen Manfred was helping himself to a huge bowl of ice cream and Maugham could hear him saying over and over again perhaps the previous owner had nothing pleasant to say and then giggling. One week later Jim and Maugham went to an art opening in Del Paso Heights. When Maugham arrived, Manfred was there again. Jim turned to him and said Manfred, will you bring the car around please? Oh yes Sahib! I will! And with that he scampered away, and out the back to get the 2002 Mustang Shelby Cobra GT. Maugham looked at Jim. Jim looked back intently. Maugham moved in closer and gave Jim his best Larry David stare, which only he could really do (both being very tall. Jim at 64 and Maugham at 66) Finally Jim relented. Hes my manservant Mog. Really? Maugham sneered, and Just then the black Mustang GT came roaring around the corner and screeched to a halt near the front walkway. Manfred leaped out of the car to attend the doors for Maugham and Jim. As Jim lowered the top and prowled the engine, Maugham looked over towards Manfred, Thanks Dude. Enjoy your evening he sneered as Jim pulled out with a wave into the warm Sacramento evening. So? Im not sure how it happened, Jim said shaking his head. He was working in a bank that was closing in a week and we started up a conversation in the bank. He told me about his family back in Spain What a minute Maugham interrupted. Hes from SPAIN?! Well yes, but he is also half East Indian. To make matters worse he is Bi-Polar. So in other words, heh, he is Quad-Polar? Maugham said smirking. Hes not a bad guy, Jim said. He just needed a place to stay for awhile. So he offered to be my manservant, um, for free. For free? You have an indentured slave living at your place?
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Its not like that. In fact as things have shaken out he basically eats most of my food, watches soap operas all day long and is alternately gleefully hyper or elusively glum. What services does he provide? Does he cook and clean? Nope. He has a rare skin disease that makes him allergic to dish soap. So he simply brings the car around. Jim found out later that Manfred was a lot more shrewd than anyone could have dreamed. His first clue should have come a week after Maugham and he had gone down to the galleries. He had a woman named Susan over for a dinner date. She was a tall lanky woman with dark red hair and a yummy smile and Jim was smitten. While he was making dinner in the kitchen Susan was left with Manfred to talk. When he walked out of the kitchen with dinner Susan was gone. Wheres Susan? he asked Manfred. Oh indeed Sahib, Miss Susan has left us. He said with a grin. But why? She hadst to go Sahib he gestured and said Pooftah! Jim left messages but she never returned them. He had no idea why.
Chapter Two
Jim quickly took over behind the counter after watching Manfred give a customer an extra two dollars change. Renata was a barista goddess. She could handle 10 drink orders at once, never confuse them, while still having the presence of mind to banter with customers in line. Jim enjoyed working with her. Manfred was the gopher until things slowed then he would disappear until the evening shift where he would help out for about 20 minutes, then disappear again. Manfred! Jim yelled over the steel, wood and glass counter, check the condiment stations! then gave the top a quick wipe. Yes, Sahib! And many good thank yous to you he would say and a customer or two eyeballed Jim suspiciously. He calls me that to annoy me, Jim would say. Usually a regular, also in line, would confirm. Uh Hon? came a familiar voice. Oh hi Alice, how are you? asked Jim. Sweetie? You got some schmutz right there she said as she reached across the counter and wiped off his chin.
Azotusland Yer a doll, Alice.
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Yes, I know. Now darling, get me some of that pumpkin bread okay? And the usual. There was a line of about 15 people so they worked very fast. The upper cafe would fill up like this in the morning. When it got too bad, regulars would simply turn at the door and go down a level to The Doghouse. It lacked the ambiance, outside seating at the apex of the structure or view, but you could get your drinks and a table quicker. You could also access the library and it was quieter for laptop work. That was a great movie night the other time came a voice from down the line. It was Jacob, a muscular native who had long flowing dark hair and bright eyes and smile. Jah-cob-ee! yelled Jim. You wanna run the next one? What is it? Jacob yelled out. Go check the calendar on the site Jim said. Theyll hold your place in line, wontcha folks? Yes Jim some of them droned. Jacob went over to the Internet station, hit the home button to Azotuscafe.com and clicked on events. The next Azotus Movie Night was March 8th. The film was Wings of Desire. The following week it was The Shawshank Redemption. Jacob got back in line. When he got to the counter he said Ha! Ill take Shawshank, sure. But you get the subtitled films Jim. Yer a dark soul you know that? So Im told, he said ringing up another customer and wiping down the back of the glass case. But Im a big Bruno Ganz fan, plus I like the long coats and ponytails. Is that about the angels? a stout woman asked. Yes, its very good and worth seeing. He said. Then to another Thats $4.42. Then back to her, Come join us next Thursday night. You can sign up online, or have someone do it for you downstairs in the Internet Caf. Seating is limited to 24. Does it cost anything? Jim yelled out Manfred! Cmere! as he saw Manfred talking away with the Rev. Tanka and his radio show producer Maurice. Once he had Manfreds attention he pointed to the woman and yelled Help this sweet woman with info about the theater, okay? Yes Sahib! he exclaimed and Jims head slumped down and he shook it. Hell tell you all about it. Please come, Jim said as he lent over to help Renata froth another latte. Manfred walked over and once the woman had gotten her scone and double latte she walked with him to a table and dropped them off. Well? she asked.
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Oh indeed there is a wonderfulness here every Thursday nights in the dark hole in the side of the hill. I thought it was a movie, Im confused, blustered the woman. Jim caught the action out of the corner of his eye and quickly pointed to the monitor with three quick finger thrusts. Manfred shrugged, then took Alice to the screen and she started to relax and nod. Renata looked up at Jim through light steam and said So, will you throttle him today? Bad karma, Jim said and took payment for the next order. Roo was running things smoothly downstairs. Jim had nicknamed her Namaste-Roo and claimed that she had magical powers over all who came into her domain. She flirted with the men, and the women, and her earthy charm and easy smile never fooled anyone that she was not the boss of everyone. If a customer was belligerent it was always Roo who would quickly eviscerate them verbally with an innocent little girl laugh and her beatific smile making it impossible to retort. It was simply game over when Roo said it was. No child ever came into The Doghouse but Roo did not crouch down and greet them and make them giggle. She was pure magic and that is why Jim had her as his consigliere. If he was 15 years younger he would have done all he could to woo Roo, but he had put that out of his mind two years earlier. She was now like a special sister that he adored. She and Martine were opposites in many ways but got along. They respected each other. As for Hans? Well no one really understood his deal with Jim. He was anti-social, snobbish, spoke with a thick German accent and was obviously sexually conflicted. He also ran the Azotus Art Gallery and Studio and drove the local artists nuts with his perfectionism and dogged devotion to Cubism. Hans was the gopher in The Doghouse, as The Doghouse was at least twice the width of the upstairs cafe, not counting the library. It took Hans extra long to make the condiment stations perfuct, then he would scowl as a businessman spilled his coffee on the station, left packet droppings or a stir stick on the counter next to the trash. Down in the IC, Andy was updating the websites for upcoming events, checking blogs for both Foulage and Spammage. Andy was good at keeping the contents a clear stream. At 11:11 that morning Maugham got a curious email from a poster named Rnonymous@azotuscafe.com. It wasnt until later when he conferred with Jim that he started to piece things together. Malraux, Security alert. I am watching him. Cant stop me. Toodles, R
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He did the usual IP checks and traces. Nothing. The IP addresses the person had used to sign up with Azotuscafe.coms public site shifted all over the globe within minutes. Whoever it was, was masking their address. Maugham had warned Jim that he was leaving a door open, but Jim had insisted that users signing into the cafe site would have severe protections. Just then Jonathan peeked in, grabbed the trash from behind the small barista bar and started to leave. Then he stopped. Here it comes Maugham thought. Whatcha working on Mog? he asked enthusiastically. Well, I just got a security alert Jonathan. Thanks for asking He dropped the garbage, reached behind the bar and grabbed two big oven mitts. Andy started to object but Jonathan put them on and started waving his arms wildly around loudly saying Danger Danger Will RobinsonDanger Danger! in a 60s robotic voice. Maugham grabbed at the imaginary clip on his side and he slumped over silent, the mitts falling to the floor. Then Jonathan broke character, looked up, laughed and threw the mitts behind the bar and left with the bag. Utter nuthouse Maugham said quietly. He shouldnt do that Andy said in a trollish way.
Around 10:30 each morning Roo, Martine and Hans did the hard work of shutting down the The Doghouse at 11. All business was now happening above. Jim would leave when Martine came up. This was his time off and he usually went back to the Bunkhouse for a quick nap. Hans would be opening up the Azotus Arts Gallery and Studio and Jonathan would sweep the grounds and take care of the hard job of loading up the elevator with seven loads of bagged trash from the days first big hit. Each day, after he finished the trash, Jonathan would make a sandwich in the kitchen just off The Doghouse then slump into a sweaty lump. It was hard work and he needed to recharge. He would think about his children and how much he missed them. He didnt like where he had landed, but tried to use humor as a way of staying sane. Most days he would get up on the small stage in The Doghouse and do a new monologue to the empty space. At least that is how it started. One day Martine caught his act when in the kitchen. It made her laugh. She asked if it was okay if she sometimes sat in for it. Then word leaked out and others started dropping in at 10:50 for the 10 minute show. The usual group became Roo,
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Martine (but not Hans) , Jeremy, often Maugham, occasionally Jim and Renata, and occasionally some of the locals like Sex, Cara and Jacob. Andy got wind of it and had Maugham rig up a video camera to stream into the IC. In some ways it was what connected most of them on a daily basis. What would Jonathan do today? It was always different, which was the amazing part. Some days the staff would shout out a topic and watch his brain whir and tumble and he would always look down sadly and say in a thick voice Sorry folks, barns empty! Boo-weevils and Republicans got here first! Then he would launch out for eight minutes. No one was safe, not even customers.
Chapter 3
So at 10:50 sharp, Jonathan got up from his chair, having finished his turkey and cheese sandwich on rye, and he slowly ascended the stage pretending to sweep with an imaginary broom. He looked around and saw only fellow employees. He motioned to Jeremy to close the door to The Doghouse, then he exclaimed like a big old weary Iowa farmer after election day, Sorry folks barns empty! Boo-weevils and Republicans got here first! Then he seemed to draw up and transform himself into a Bible belt preacher. He had brought a napkin which he used for emphasis and would often pat his forehead for added measure as he did a dead-on impersonation of the Rev. Tanka, himself already somewhat of a caricature. Dear Brothers and Cistern! Jonathan bellowed in a darkly and grumbling emphysmatic voice. I do NOT want you to be unaware of the nefarious schemes of De Debil! Pacing back and forth as if discerning direct inspiration from the Spirit from the rafters then looking down and pointing he shouted Da Debil comes to us in dah What SHuuuuugah!! That glass case of paaaastries ovah THERE is so filled with da white Shoooo-gah that it is a veritable hive of demonic activity!! Then he paused, Does anybody have a smokie? You there!! Red-headed Rootabaggahyou got you a smokie!? No Rev. I dont smoke! Roo yelled back laughing. How bout you Big Jim? You gotta smokie on ya? Fresh out Jim said shaking his head and hoping to God that the Rev. Tanka was not still upstairs, or worse, out on the balcony within possible earshot. Gotsta have me a smokie! he said then started a long hacking sound. Juss a minute, he growled then recovered. All the terrible ills of this fallen universe are contained in the White Shoo-gerall pestilence, all wars, all forms of adultery and bestiality such as were had at the likes of Sodom and Gaa-morah... and certain rural Texas towns which will go unnamed are because of Da White Shoooo-gah which must be Exor-Cized OUT!
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With this he jumped down and did the laying on of hands on Martines dark hair and suddenly yanked back his hands Come Out! Yee evil DEEEEMON SHOOOGAH!! Back Back YEEE to the Krispy Kreme from Whence YE came! What if you use Splenda? someone called out. Uhnot so very bad," he said low and introspective. " But! Nutrasweeeeeetah is a made of dah piggy spleens!! And It-Tah is made in da Purg-gaa-Tory. And if you ingest it, as I have for many years, it will affectah your memory so that you will, er.I lost my train of thought-tah. Everybody laughed. And I do Thanka-YOO! cough cough," he hacked. "Now I must needs go and see my producer Maurice about the smoker da Show today. And that was it for the day. The day before it was his imitation of James Mason reading NBA basketball scores and often falling asleep in mid-sentence. Aalin Iver-son took it to the HOOOLE repeated-ly and earned the high watah mark of 28 points (deep and sad sigh). Actually there was a bit of John Housemen mixed in but it was pretty good and got good verbal press. Jim left after that with Martine right behind on her way up to the caf. As he turned left at the top of the stairs He said see you in a bit Marty and she harrumphed. He turned and looked at her. Weve been through this before Marty. I know, but it still bugs me. Hey you want me to burn out? No, Im just not sure its fair. Look you have a life outside of here, I have to take what I can getand right now I need time to study for tonights lecture. Yeah thats a big money-maker she said sarcastically. Well why dont you comeyou could double with Maug. You know he likes you. She blushed. Whats it on? Its actually a dual lecture I am doing with Dan Palmer from the Zen Center. Sounds snoozey she smirked. 8:00 p.m. in the usual. I know Maug is coming because he wants to kick my ass. Now you dont wanna miss that do ya sweetie? Peh she said and turned and walked into the caf proper.
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Jim went into the Bunkhouse, grabbed some books and fell back on the bottom queen-sized bunk. He turned on the CD player to cover the murmur coming through the wall from Manfreds room... and endless stream of soap operas all late morning through afternoon every single day. He put on a Thomas Newton CD. He closed his eyes and dreamed. In his dream it was dark outside on a warm summer night as he approached the small bungalow. She was waiting outside in a long cotton gown. She seemed to be having fun, taking care somehow. When he saw her and walked up she turned and smiled. "What are you doing?" She crinkled her little nose and said "I'm just taking care of the last." "Okay," Jim said and went inside past the screen and regular door. He could faintly hear Newton's Mauve Antartica in the background, twinkling, dancing, a little sweep here. Beautiful. Like delicate cat paws on new carpet. But the room was empty. He turned on the air conditioner but it made no sound. Just the music. He lay down on simple soft bedding. The dark yellow glow of the lighting warmed the room. He felt at peace. She did not come into the room. The dream was too short. But she didn't need to. He knew upon waking that in time, her time, she would, and lay down next to him. He would smell her henna hair, and enjoy the line of her jaw in the light, and she would stretch out and just want to be held. As he woke, Jim felt happy. A room with nothing but a bed. A woman to trust. Crickets outside, and a winsome soundtrack. Ah...if life were only like this. Then he looked to his left and saw the stack of books: Ernest Beckers The Denial of Death, Peter Bergers The Precarious Vision, and Mertons Love and Living. He sighed, then the door of Manfreds room burst open and he came out and exclaimed Jamie is Pregnant Sahib!! Oh I knew this would happen!! Oh Joy of all joyfulnesses!! Then he retreated back into his room. Jim got up and popped a Molson and sat down at the small wooden table that was surrounded by three windows, to jot some notes.
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Two floors down, Hans opened up the double gallery doors which basically stayed wide open all day long. Marin is unique in that most of the year the climate is neutral. There is no need for either air conditioning or heat. It rarely matters whether it is day or night. Its a county of great irony because one would think it a perfect bastion for Right-Wingers wanted less taxes and capitalizing on their slim energy needs. Marin has the highest income per capita of any county in the US, and no real major energy needsyet in the last few years Jim had never once seen a pro-Bush sticker. People seemed very willing to pay their fair share of taxes, and also to conserve in an area that hardly needed to. They used bio-fuels, drove Priuses or Volts, ate organic foods and largely voted Blue. The folk were also deeply spiritual, though highly distrustful of any organized religion. That was just one of the many reasons that Jim had decided on Marin as a base of operation for the beginnings of the Azotus Cafe. He was not disappointed. In fact he had more attention than he really knew what to do with. He was often asked to speak at various organizations around town on his theory of Depth Pluralism. In most cases he declined, and simply invited people up to the old mansion that housed Azotus day in and day out. He was starting to think that he might need to open and second, and perhaps a third, location if he was to keep his dream alive. But who would run the other one or two? Down in the Gallery, Hans flicked on the lights and walked around the gallery inspecting each piece of work and how well hung it was. Everything was in order just as he had left it at 5 p.m. the day before. But he checked just the same. He had suspicions that Jim came down at other closed times for his own reasons and while he could not figure it, he wondered about the three slim doors that were at the back of the darkroom. Hans had asked Jim about them when he first signed on and Jim had just said they were "personal storage units" in a nonchalant manner. But Hans had noted that there were no surveillance cameras anywhere in the art area or near the three doors. At the end of one day he had taken tiny slivers of clear tape and placed then at the bottom of all three doors. The next morning two of them were detached.
Chapter Four
Jeremy was a young man of 23. He had a charisma and the good looks to go along. He was also funny and a bit of a pirate. If Johnny Depp was channeling Keith Richards, Jeremy was channeling Johnny Depp. He was a young thin writer who liked the whole Azotus atmosphere and had lobbied Jim hard to find a place for him.
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"How are you with kids?" Jim asked one day. "Kid's I love'm!" Jeremy said nervously. "Look it's easy," Jim said glumly. Just be your inner child all the time...or between 10 a.m. and 1, and then again between 6 and 8. There will be some special events every week too. So you'll get thirty hours a week and still have afternoons off for whatever." "How much?" "To watch kids and play?" Jim said. "$9 an hour and free access to all services." "Bene's?" "No drugs allowed" Jim said stone-faced. "Very funny Jim," he smirked. "Hey, talk to the Gov." he said "which reminds me, I heard Jonathan practicing his 'Arnold' imitation while he was washing off the floor mats. I suggest you not miss tomorrow's performance." "I won't," Jeremy said. "So show me this kid's area?" While they walked down the three wide flights of stairs to the bottom of the complex a small herd of deer ventured into the top hillside and feasted on fresh leaves. The white clouds flashed overhead like bright pillows sown sloppily end to end and the valley seemed at peace. At the bottom of the hill there was an imposing rampart that guarded the whole complex. Jim referred to it all affectionately as his "Helm's Deep". In the renovation he had, at considerable expense, tunneled into the mountainside under the auspices of creating a private wine cellar. Instead there were two doors off the main path that winded around the bulwark. The first was a bright blue door that led to "The Batcave", a children's play area that Jim had dreamed up with his older sons and daughter. The other door, farther North was the entrance to the small theater where the Azotus Movie Nights were held as well as other events. It was also Jim's second place to sleep. It was not uncommon to find him at 6 a.m asleep in the front row on a couch in some state of disarray. The theater itself was a piece of work. It seated 24 in comfortable staggered rows of orange padded chairs behind two long sofas up front. Deep blue lights in the floor guided people in and out when the lights were out and the
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show was on. The technology behind it was extremely advanced, designed by his good friend Anthony, a man of considerable imagination and unwilling to take no for an answer. They had pushed every envelope and while they went over-budget by $80,000, Jim was satisfied with all the "special modifications" they had made in the process. But that door was closed this week to the public until Thursday night at 8. Jeremy tucked his head under the door. "Sorry about that" Jim said. "We're looking into that. I have already lost at least 300 thousand brain cells smacking that think. It was built for hobbitses." Jeremy didn't laugh and Jim moved on. He moved to an instrument panel on a small rise and hit a few switches. The place lighted up in subtle fashion. On the left there were glowing bat cut-out gels and a considerable array of toy action figures segregated into several areas. Marvel, D.C. Star Wars. In a separate room there were small tables with puzzles and art stations. There were two sinks and a rack of art supplies. Later, Jeremy would become accustomed to the other areas of the Batcave that were unusual and highly playful, but for now he was kinda blown away. "You wanna work here?" Jim asked. "Why me?" "Trish quit...going back to school in Santa Cruz. I need someone I can trust." "I just play with kids?" "No, you do that and you log them safely in and out. You report any problems immediately to either Roo or myself and we contact the parent. Any problems. I mean you can wipe a nose, but just be a good and safe big brother. They will love you J." "Okay." "Oh and one more thing Jeremy" Jim said seriously. "No hitting on the young mothers. Understood?" "What do you mean?" he asked. "NO MILFing dude." "Yeah, understood."
Chapter five
Jacob made a habit of hitting the Azotus Caf at around 6 every night. If he came early he would
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turn into the library and grab a book randomly off the shelf and just read. Often there were two or three others sitting on the couch or in one of the big chairs. The sun streamed in at an angle at that time and it looked great bouncing off the hardwood floors. On this day Jacob looked up from his reading of Vonnegut's Mother Night and saw a woman catted in the chair across the way. She was bare-footed and he chuckled when he saw her shoes. Black Keds...high-tops. She had a grey tank top and worn jeans and dark glasses on her small nose. She was reading Ruiz's The Mastery of Love, and she paused every once and a while and let out a little giggle. Jacob returned to his book. The anti-hero, named Campbell, was in serious, yet strangely comic trouble because no one really knows who he is, including himself, yet he has been used by both sides, post WW2 in more than dubious ways. She got up and slipped her Keds on and laced them, her light brown hair falling down low. Jacob got up and went for an Americano. Martine obliged and he settled out on the deck off the Cafe. The sky was dimming and the air was great. The thin wind chimes tinned and shimmered lightly. Ked woman came out on the deck and seated herself a table away. They struck up a conversation after awhile and were laughing. She had removed her left Ked and was touching his pant leg every once and awhile. Hans closed up the Gallery after shooing Roderick, Susan and Deliah out of the studio promptly at 5 p.m. He double checked the doors and left a thin strip of clear tape at the bottom of the double doors, then unlocked his mountain bike and walked down the long path and rode off to his apartment in San Rafael. At around 7:00 p.m. Jim excused himself from several hours of hard work in the main cafe. Roo had returned at 6 somehow revived. , Martine left at 4 as did Renata. Ward came in at 4 p.m. and took up Barista duties. Then Jim's oldest son Ian came in at 6:30 to basically run the ship till 11 p.m. when things shut down for good. Ian came in at 6:30 and hailed his old man. They hugged and Jim gave him the store keys. "Your ship son...good luck."
Chapter Six
Jim walked out the main door and checked into Ops. Maugham was reclining back in the main chair looking at several monitors, seemingly at once. He seemed puzzled.
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"What's up Bro?" Jim asked "Nuthin much Boss," Maugham said. But that always concerned Jim when he heard it. It implied a level of seriousness not usual for Maug. "Got a creepy email this a.m." Maugham said. "You trace it?" "Couldn't. Well hidden." "Should I put Zeus and Apollo on patrol Maug?" "Very funny. Why not Manfred? Give him something useful to do." Jim laughed. "What did it say?" "You are being watched." "By who?" "Rnonymus?" "ah...I got one too. So whoever she is she knows of both of us." With this Jim moved behind Maugham and started to massage his shoulders. They were damned tight. Too tight. Wound up. "That feels good Bro." Maug said. "But what makes you think its a she?" "What do you think?" "Yeah, it's definitely a Sheila." "Sure it's nothing" Jim said. "You coming tonight?" "Wouldn't miss it," Maugham said. "Er, Martine may be there too," he said pulling back and moving toward the door. "Thanks. Really? Hmnnn. You know I'm gonna kick your ass." "You always do Maug. And you always get the girl."
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"For awhile I guess." At 7:15 Jim went down to the double doors of the Azotus Gallery and quickly let himself in, then turned and locked up. Then he moved through the large gallery through the main studio and into the darkroom. He slid a key into the door on the right, opened it and disappeared down a flight of stairs after locking the door behind him.
At 7:50 Roo made an announcement to the cafe. "Tonight's fare is a joint lecture/discussion with Jim Davies and Dan Palmer in the Azotus Library. It starts in ten minutes and is limited to 24 participants, so if you are here for that now is a good time to make your way downstairs and into the library. Please do take your drinks with you and any food. Just please try and clean up after yourselves." There was quite a bit of shuffling around as some folks rose and made their way out the door. Others came to order a refill or something new. When Jim entered the Library it was full. Dan was already up front near his stool. I man in his fifties with a wide face and deep beard Dan had a way of warming a room immediately. Jim greeted him with a hug and they chatted briefly as people settled in the room. Maugham was in the back by the window. He had two sports bottles at his feet and he surveyed the whole room like a hawk. He noted Jacob walking in with a woman he had not seen yet. She was compelling. Manfred came in and started to talk loudly with a greybeard about something. Maugham, always two steps ahead had laid his coat down in the far right side of the sofa next to his stool. He watched Jim intently. Jim turned and greeted everyone. "Thank all of you for coming. This is an open lecture/discussion in a long series of Azotus events and we are glad you are here. "This is Dan Palmer of the Zen Center. He is a good friend and gracious soul and we have come here tonight to openly discuss a few things. Dan would you like to say something?" At just that moment Martine walked in the door ever so slightly. She looked straight ahead for a minute as Maugham took her in from the side and behind. She had the habit of wearing clothes that hid her curvy figure. But Maugham was more taken with her face. Almond eyes and hair that a Asian princess would die for. She finally looked over at Maug and he patted the sofa lightly. "...You may learn tonight that we who practice Zen have similar issues. Jim and I will discuss these things together with you and we will explore together in a spirit of openness and
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truth-seeking." Martine was much taken with his tall good-looks and swagger. Long straight golden hair, a models grizzly beard. With that Dan sat down on his stool and took a sip of water and Jim began his presentation on "Depth Pluralism". In the next 90 minutes many ideas were explored. A Muslim named Dagar was at first angry, but later was smiling as he realized that he was not being stereotyped and his questions were taken seriously. Jim talked about his own spiritual journey and how it had led him, as a "Christian" to Zen and some training with Dan. Dan talked about his own tradition and the struggles within. Maugham had slid the other sports bottle over to Martine. She wasnt sure what it was, but it was damned good and strong. She smiled up at his pirate's face and noted that the braids down the one side of his face were sexy. She didn't trust him, but he was a handsome rogue. At one point Maugham leaned down and said "watch this baby." He raised his hand and Jim acknowledged. "Everyone here knows Maugham," he said. Maugham smirked like Han Solo's younger brother. "He's our security officer here at Azotus and the man whose mission in life is to kick my ass." There was laughter "Go ahead Maug. You got the floor" Jim said. "Your religion claims to be absolute and has a systematic theology that excludes all others. So how can you come here and tout a tolerant system of 'Depth Pluralism' when your own belief system is based on propositional truth?" As he finished the last line he made sure to rub his foot (shoeless) against the back of Martine's right leg, and looking ahead he winked. Jim laughed and Dan did too. "Dan you wanna field this one...help me out here buddy?" "Personally," Dan said, "the answer is obvious. 'If you meet the Maugham in the road, kill him.'" Things died down after a minute or so. "Context is everything Maugham," Jim said. "But your question is too multi-layered. So I'll make a deal with you and those in this room. If you will give me a week I will finish a paper I have
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been writing for some time. That paper will directly attempt to answer your excellent question. Can you wait a week? Can you all wait a week and read it online and then blog about it?" There was agreement. The adjourned and Jim walked upstairs through the cafe, which was thinning and out onto the deck. He sighed, and reached behind the big planter for the pack of cigarettes he kept there. He lighted one and slumped into a chair. He felt despair. Another day, so many people, so many questions..money coming in, going out. He thought to find some moments that could enliven him, help him feel it was worth it. He saw Renata's red dreadlock over her face smiling, Jonathan wheezing on the stage like the emphysmatic Rev., Manfred obfuscating the stocky woman, Maugham winking at him, Alice wiping the schmutz off his chin and the dream he had. He thought about the chart on the wall and how good the air was around him. He took another drag and stubbed it out in the planter. Time for bed. He walked slowly through the cafe and down the hallway to the Bunkhouse, opened the door and switched off all the lights. He fell into bed hard.
Chapter Seven
As Jim's head hit the pillow Maugham was exiting the building, or trying to. Martine was over at the counter in The Doghouse, which served as an unofficial bar in the closing hours. Usually she would be going over figures or making sure the sometime night crew was prepared to handle close up after a band or act was done. No act tonight. Just quiet. She nursed an Anchor Steam and Maugham walked past her and out onto the deck. Jacob came up behind him a few minutes later as he looked out on the lights over the valley. "Er, uh...Maug?" "Hi Jacob," he said flatly. "Whose the dame?" "Dame?" "Kidding." "Can I have the theater tonight?" "Sheesh" Maugham hissed. Then he thought introspective. "yeah, okay. The code today is 714. Don't get caught."
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"Thanks Maug. Owe you one." "Last count that makes three." Jacob left and Maugham felt stupid. "I sound like a goddamn bad movie." He walked inside and grabbed a beer and brushed by Martine as he did so. Then he went and perched, as he so often did, back on the wide deck. He thought about what Jim and Dan had said. It scared him a little. Martine came outside and sat next to him. "Hey cowboy, how come so down." "I dunno. Jim gets under my skin." "Well he sure likes you," she laughed. "Yeah, that unnerves me too. Always has. " he said then tried to deflect. "How's the kid doing?" "He's great," she said. "Just like his old man except without the pall." "He's pall-less?" Maugham asked. "Yes Maug. He has no palls." He laughed. "Wanna go for a walk Marty?" "Sure Maug. Lead on." They dropped their beers at the unofficial bar and walk out the big doors and down the stairs to the lower landing. As they walked by the IC Maug noted that the Troll had lit his usual 25 candles. It was a fire hazard, but he had given up making the point. "Let's take the back path" he said and he put his arm around her. "I'm sure you are cold" he said. "Peh" she said. Around the outer grounds it was mysterious. As they passed the theater door Maugham got a sly grin. "Hey wait here...wait up."
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He walked quietly over to the door and quietly entered the access code...7-1-4. As the door released and he slid it slowly open he could hear moans inside. He took a quick peak and saw two Keds flopped down on the floor to the left of the first row and some inverted footwork splayed over the end of the couch that was in rythmic sync. Jacob's head popped up for a moment above the fourth seat and he steeled a look at Maugham who grinned and closed the door. "What was that?" "Just doing a security check Marty, Maugham grinned, just a simple security check."
Chapter Eight
Martine woke up at 5 am. in her studio apartment and groaned. She was tired of waking up alone but wasn't about to "settle." She got up, hit the shower and ate a bowl of fruit before getting on the bike and making her way the seven blocks in the fog to the bike stand in front of the Azotus. As she rode up the door of the Theater opened and a woman dressed in jeans and a grey tank walked out the door and she had a man's army jacket draped over her. She was wearing shoes that looked kid-like. She had a hop in her step like tiny bombastic life-force. Martine shrugged as the woman walked by in the cool darkness. After she locked the bike up she stopped and sat on the front step. Then she cried a little bit for reasons unknown even to her. She wiped away her tears and smiled as Roo drove up in an old BMW. Roo got out hauling a large backpack full of whatever. She hiked it up over a faux fur coat and said "Yo baby." "Baby wants to take the elevator," Martine said. They walked over to the Batcave door then diverted to the right and hit the switch. The door opened and they got in. "Good night?" Roo asked. 'No comment," Martine said. They rode up in silence to the third floor, got out and Roo unlocked the big doors. Roo made her way to the coffee station and logged into the computer. Martine lighted up the library and cleaned up some remains from the night before.She felt sad. She saw the sports bottle in the corner and started to cry again. Then she bucked up and went to have coffee with Roo. Hans came in minutes later all flustered. Roo diverted him to much needed dish washing in the
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Roo came over at one point and hugged Martine. "It's okay baby...love has it's way." Martine looked at her and believed. Roo had that way. She believed. She did not believe in men but she believed in Roo. Maugham rolled off the futon onto the floor at 5:34. He groaned and thought about how the evening had ended and cringed. "Idiot" he hissed at himself. Rising he hit the various mice and return keys and Ops was up for a new day. Jim walked in ten minutes later, took a look at Maugham in his boxers and said "take the morning off dude." Then Jim tossed him a copy of Bateson's Steps to an Ecology of Mind and said "read it or shut up." Maugham groaned and slipped on some sweat pants and an old navy shirt and walking drearily into the cafe not seven feet away. Renata gave him a wary eye. "Hey red! How about setting me up with...er...oh whatever..." She handed him a double espresso like some Jedi with foreknowledge and he drank it down. "Andy just sent me an email. You got business downstairs." Maugham growled. "Any food?" "See Andy. He has day-old quiche." Maugham moved out to Ops again and gathered his shoes. Then he walked all the way down. He stopped on the next level and took a peak. Martine was standing at the edge of the counter looking far away. He kept moving. She was an enigma to him. Beautiful and close, yet far away and a bit lost. He liked to just look at her when she wasn't aware. He didn't feel worthy of her, but that was part of his bluster. Only a few knew. Jim, Simon (who fortunately was hardly ever there) and Cara. He creaked open the door of the IC. "Andy?"
Azotusland "That's Troll to you Maug," Andy said. "Any food?"
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"You know there is...Roo arranged it. Last fridge bottom shelf." "When was the last time I said I love you Andy?" "Uh, never." "Okay, I love you," he said as he fetched the quiche and slunked it into the microwave. Andy scowled and went back to his abode. Maugham checked his emails. You certainly have the way with women Maugham. Rnonymous "Shit!" he muttered. "Quiche is bad?" Andy smirked. "Troll."
Chapter Nine
There had been any number of new or fairly new people in the cafe recently. On any given day as few as 350, or as many as 600-plus, would come through the complex, mostly higher numbers because of the variety of events and venues. Volume was necessary to make Azotus viable. If 500 people a day came in and dropped and average of $6.00 or more, that was $3,000-plus a day and usually about $25,000 a week. In addition there were some gallery sales each week and artists paid a healthy fee to use the studio and darkroom. All totaled the Azotus Caf and complex was running on about $1.2 million a year. There was little profit simply because, when there was, Jim spent it on improvements to the grounds, the building or other side projects of his own devising. When it was time to tally at the end of the year they threw a holiday potluck which enabled Jim to hand out fatter checks from profit-sharing. It was during that same day they would sit around with the cafe closed, walk the grounds together and dream for the next year. Jim's philosophy was while there had to be a main boss, the decisions should be made in community. He had surrounded himself mostly with very smart and hard-working people who loved coming to work most days. He intended to keep them happy and appreciated. And they were happy. Mostly. On days off it was not uncommon to see Renata and Rand
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walking the grounds, or Ward sitting up on the deck reading a Sedaris book, or Ian down in the art studio painting with oils. Jim saw Azotus architecturally in his mind. At the core it was a "Third space" that people came to experience as a communal home away from home. It served the same community function as cafes in France, or pubs in Ireland. Regulars developed special privileges like occasional free food, free refills, personal emails from staff about events and always being acknowledged by name. And the community was extending and deepening thanks to their growing Internet presence. Those who visited the cafe were encouraged to create an online profile at Azotuscafe.com. Those who did not have computers or were intimidated by them, could stop in the IC and Andy would walk them through it, scan a picture and help them feel at ease. He was a very kind soul and infinitely patient. Off the front page you could navigate to a number of areas of interest. Modeled after the building itself a schedule of events was available for each area or resources. Typically, after the lecture the night before, people would now log on and continue the discussion, or if they missed it, they could download a podcast version. In the next week it would be up to Jim to post the response to Maugham's challenge and then defend his view if possible. The only rules were respectful discourse and no personal attacks. Passion was not disallowed, but openness and safety were held in high regard so that people felt free to speak. Of course there were sporadic incidents. Those incidents were usually handled calmly by Jim, or directly by Roo, or more directly by Maugham on rare occasions. Maugham could look scary if he wanted to. His long flowing hair with the "Braveheart" braids down the left side, in addition to his imposing size gave off warrior blood. But he had only had to use it a few times and understood Jim's policy of non-violence. There had been a poetry reading a few months back in The Doghouse. Some of the poets like Gordon MacAfee, Gene Black and a man who called himself "Hogboy" were all highly entertaining. But when self-proclaimed "poet laureate' of the area got up and started a long poem about his fixation with cock one gentleman in the back took grave exception. And he was drunk and probably using Maugham's old trick of bringing in a sports bottle. Jim saw him first headed towards the stage and intercepted him with a smile and by placing himself between the man and the stage by a good twenty feet. "You look upset," he whispered to the Marine. "That cocksucker should die. He's a disgrace."
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Jim could see Maugham over the man's left shoulder start in his direction, but he waved him off with a quick shake of the head. "I agree," Jim whispered, "he isn't very good and I hope he finishes soon." "I think I'll just beat your ass first" he said a little more loudly. "Youre a Marine, right?" Jim whispered even softer and the Marine had a hard time hearing him. "Fucking-A right I'm a Marine" he said lower. "Look, I respect the hell out of anyone in uniform. I can tell you are upset. Maybe with good reason." "You'll respect me more when I kick your ass," he hissed. Jim towered over the smaller man, but said simply "I am certain you could make quick work of me." As he said this he put has hands at his sides straight down in a relaxed manner. "I do not deny it. But I cannot let you or anyone else hurt someone else here. So, let's you and I go to my hangout and I'll buy you a beer and we can just talk." The man took a step back and Jim said "C'mon...I'm buying." and led him out the door. As he got past Maugham he flicked his hand behind him. Everything was fine. An hour later when everyone was gone Jim returned and Maugham said "what happened?" "I just listened. He had a lot of weight." "You gave him more alcohol?" "Yeah, we had some stouts and talked. Then I took him down the elevator and stuffed him in a cab with directions. I told him we would look after his car and make sure it was safe. Before he left he hugged me." On this Tuesday morning Maugham was having trouble focusing. He kept drifting to Martine. "Ah fucket!" he said aloud. "Fuck what Maug?" asked Andy looking up from three screens over (he was updating events on the site). "I don't feel much like talking Andy. Sorry." Andy went back to updating, which was slow because major crumbs from the day-old crumb
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cake kept bouncing off the keyboard. When that happened., Andy would grab the aerosol can and shoot the keyboard. This annoyed Maugham, but it was Andy's cave. Maugham ran through his mind those who had been in a few times the previous day. None of them was the least bit suspicious, and if it had not been for the untraceable nature (some sort of software to hide the ip address) Maugham would have just thought someone was having them on as a prank. It could still be that, of course. Maugham IM'd Jim on Yahoo and asked about his email. But Jim hadn't received anything new. Then Maugham went through the member profiles. He disliked doing this because it seemed against the spirit of Azotus. But it was public information and Maugham wanted to see who had recently joined. The online community contained over 3,100 profiles, each posted by either locals, or visitors, or just people who liked the Cafe even though they had never been there physically. There were Azotus fans in Boston, New York, Maine, Texas, Tennessee, Portland, Seattle, San Diego and Canada. Jim corresponded with several of them, posted their articles, encouraged them in their writings and tried to help them make connections where he could. Jim, and or Andy, also highlighted their Blogs and Jim read ten different ones a day from 1 to 2 p.m. and made comments. There was meaning to his madness. He figured that someday these fine folk would work with him to create an Azotus in their city. The flavor for each one would be different based on the community, but it would be an Azotus. Maugham did a localized search for new members in the area for the last month. He figured whoever was watching them had both an agenda and enough anonymity. They didn't do last names, or at least there was only one field for the name. Cara Theodore Pursed_Lips Fag_Boy Whipper William Rand Sex Derrick Smithey Bolero Kumsquaitshot
Azotusland Macsniper Del Patti Mitzee The_Queen IPfreely Dickey Zara Hunan Rickey Brad Wademan Potifor Iceman Phynix TommyBoy Cartesian_Hunter Rachel Simplex Susan Tyne Whispah Pinhead Freebird
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"ah shit...." he sighed. "This is hopeless.
Chapter Ten
A woman going by the bame Sex pried open the door to the Batcave and entered without ducking along with her two kids, Antoine and Lucille. Jeremy was over playing super heroes (Marvel) with little Scott and Colin. Matisse, Jims youngest child and daughter, was in the next room painting quietly and very focused. When Jeremy had gone in to check on her she looked up at him like he was an unusual bug and she laughed and said "I have work to do Jeremy." He had shaken his head and walked back and sat down to lead an attack by Dr. Doom on the Fantastic Four when the door had opened. "Hi," he said. "I'm Jeremy. "I'm Sex," she said flatly. "That's your name?" "That's what everyone calls me. I don't like my other name, so someone suggested that one and it
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She signed her kids in. "This is Lucille who is 7, and Antoine is 4. They play well with others and I'll be upstairs I suppose for about an hour." "Helllooo Lucille" he said and then turned to Antione and said "I'll be right back." Mom stayed around for a few minutes watching Jeremy closely. He could feel her eyes on him in various ways. He both liked it and it made him uncomfortable. He got Antoine integrated with an Iron Man and Captain America and he switched Scott to the bad side with a Doc Ock and Mysterio. Then he asked Lucille if she would like to meet Matisse and do some art. She nodded quietly. "Hello friend" Matisse perked up. "Hello," Lucille said shyly. "I saw you at the park last Thursday," Matisse said nonchalant, and Lucille smiled and picked up some markers and went to a small desk. Then she looked back at the girl who was humming a song and reciting a little poem as she painted. The painting was of a bright hummingbird with yellow and red wings with blue tips. It was nestled in flowers that were being painted in with vibrant colors. Jeremy turned and shrugged at Sex and said "well, there ya go." "How much is it? "Just $2 per kid per hour," he said smiling, "but just in general. We're not too tight about that stuff." She smiled at him with a small flirt. And as she left he noted how tight she was. Lean with nice curves. Petite, yet strong, medium blond hair and emerald eyes that were seductive. He hoped she had recently been divorced because she was definitely hot. After she closed the door he muttered under his breath, "Sex, sex." Then he had to go help Scott because he was being over-run. On her way up the stairs to the first landing Sex passed Jonathan who was bringing down a load of trash from the Gallery and IC. He stopped and scoped her out and she smiled at him.
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"The prophecies have now been fulfilled" he exclaimed ethereally. "Now the moon shall turn blood red, or rather a shade of red...more of a pink color actually" he said in rapid Robin Williams fashion. "Oh and the blond beauty shall ascend into the seventh house because the others were over-priced and in need of painting. And Uranus shall fly around Pluto until he becomes sick, but later he will return because that is what dogs do among other disgusting things like dry humping the legs of their masters." She laughed because he seemed harmless. "I'm sorry," he said. " I am Jonathan. I have a doctorate in Anti-Entropy and have better hair than Einstein and speak better English than Eisenstein did because he only spoke Russian. And you might be?" I am Sex," she said. "Well I didn't want to state the obvious," Jonathan said quickly with a grin. "But now that you mention it, how is that working for you?" "Just fine. This the way up?" "Yes...Azotusland could use a little Sex. Up you go!" Then he grabbed the trash bag, bowed deeply and whispered "You're secret is safe with me. I'll be back by the dumpsters in 30 minutes."
Chapter Eleven
Sex got her mocha and a cookie and headed out onto the deck. She got stares here and there. Jacob noticed her right away, but was still thinking about Keds. "Oppph" he said aloud and quickly grabbed up his stuff and ran out the big door and down the stairs just in time to get inside The Doghouse before it closed. Jonathan was munching on his sandwich and others were congregating. Sex took a swig from her mocha and opened her book. She relaxed and started to read the following poem: In isolation, If we allow it, We story down tale by tale Image by image Until we are What we have only always been Undone, empty, naked and lost. It is a terrifying moment
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Unending and sustaining Lost and all our images burned Our tale not so interesting Our isolation seemingly complete. But Dear One When you are Lost And the fire smolders out Leaving only your quiet empty lot The only movement the Wind blowing Some rag tag papers in a scatter Then may come the quiet Word of One Who Loves and Seeks the Lost. Now you can be found. Wait now Wait in the silence Of your vacant lot to be found He is not afar. When He comes You will know your life Was always isolation Always lostness and a howl. But now in Him Finding and being found, And someday soon the Oneness You have been seeking In all the wrong places Will find and embrace you And you alone.
She ate some cookie and breathed in deeply. She thought she heard laughter downstairs, then more of it. The crows landed in the big pine and danced around for a bit. "Can I join you?" came a deep and slightly British but pleasant voice. I tall tanned man in an off-white suit was standing nearby. His grin was infectious and warm. She looked him over. He seemed, well, charming. "Well, you can stay for a minute and we'll see how that goes," she said directly.
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"And then another minute passed, followed by another minute, followed by another different minute. Then a minute passed," he said as he sat down. "It's an old comedy routine some friends of mine did years ago back in Chelsea. "You're English," she said. "Well yes dear, most of us here are to some extent or the other. But yes." "Well what do you want?" she asked. "Well I had not quite yet decided on that," he said smiling, "But I expect some Earl Grey. I'll be right back." And with that he got up as if to leave but turned and asked "Can I get you anything?" "No, just fine. Except what is your name?" "Simon," he answered. "And yours?" "Perhaps upon your return" she said. Then he was gone.
Chapter Twelve
Simon almost banged into Manfred as he ran by and down the hall. Simon cast him a curious eye and shook his head, and went to order his tea. Martine walked by and took up residence behind the counter and took Simon's order. Twenty minutes later it was the late morning Azotus 11:15 am machine. Downstairs Hans complained to a photographer that he was not letting his pictures soak long enough in the stop bath. Renata was in the back taking a break; Andy was explaining how to get free email to an old woman named Berta. Jeremy was making a mobile out of shells with the kids in the Batcave. Jim was napping while Manfred settled in for One Life to Live. Jonathan was sitting out by the old dumpster saying "maybe tomorrow." Roo was in her BMW headed to class and the Rev. Tanka and Maurice were out by the eucalyptus tree smoking.
At 3 p.m sharp two men went to literary work every day. Jim sat down at 3 and wrote for an hour up on his private deck off the Bunkhouse. It was not even 7 by 7 feet, but it had a roof and was secluded and he could hear the stereo from inside. Two floors down, on the patio, Jeremy had started a long memoir, which was ironic. He had
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decided to catalog his failed relationships with women and coded them like new software version. Thus he had girlfriend 3.0, 4.0, 4.5, 4.75, etc... all the way up to the current , well latest version 13.5. He was only 23 and kissed his first girlfriend at 15 and he was at 13.5 with an eye toward the Sexy MILF he had met earlier that day. As Jeremy wrote openly about girlfriend 13.5, Jim happened to me writing in similar fashion, yet more broadsweeping. Jim wrote: I have always lost out to other guys...eventually. I mean I have never had a problem meeting and hooking up with beautiful intelligent women. In fact, not so long ago my step-uncle approached me at a wedding party and laughingly said "How do you do it? You always show up with the most amazing women. It boggles my mind." Of course he failed to note that they are usually different every year or so. So you have to factor that in as part of the paradigm. I can get them, but cannot keep them. I hit a new low about this time last year when I lost out not to another guy, but to Spongebob Squarepants. I have to seriously find a new paradigm. I lost several women because I drink too much. That's a fact. I lost another, well because there never was any real connection. I lost a few to other men who were more, oh...lets just say, economically viable than I was at the time. There were a few women who were just plain mean and no man could withstand their wrath. Then there is just bad timing. For some odd reason often women show up in twos. I'm serious. I always picked the wrong one. (Of course, given our thesis, it really would not matter eventually). Had I chosen D over Y eventually D would have found an escape hatch. Had I chosen T or D she would have put up with me for the same decade then jumped ship. It's kinda of a nautical thing. The common denominator is obvious: It's all their fault for lack of vision.
Azotusland (Just kidding.)
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No, the common denominator is always me. _____________________
But it's a curious thing to be beat out by a spongy yellow cartoon character. I admit, he is a lot more jolly than me, makes more money, is always upbeat (hence revealing my more broodish side and depressed Swedish side), and his friends are pretty entertaining. Damn. I wish I had a goofy pink starfish friend about now. Instead, I get Manfred. ______________________ Some of it must just be age. I'm 47 and, well, while still "cute" I lack that godlike character that I had 15 to 20 years ago that, of course, I was unaware of and never used...then. Life can be so cruel, and timing is highly under-rated. So now I have to rely on humor, intelligence and astonishing sexual technique. All of which I have to some degree, and you would think that would be enough. Naw. Because there are other things. Yeah...I hack, and spit at inappropriate times...and I try and start long theological conversations in the middle of the night. Did I mention I drink too much? So I forget whole conversations the next morning (and also sentences I write). I also snore like a bear and use to be an affection whore and plagued by personal demons. Now with the Cafe I am not starved for attention, but still plagued to some degree. More than one girlfriend has asked "why do so many of your books have 'death' in the title." I always have the same answer "Because it's an important issue" I whine back in a New York accent then say "Name that movie!" Usually they just rolled their eyes (it used to be cute...the "name that movie bit. Now it is just annoying), but my last Ex was always a good sport and would say Love and Death even though she knew full well it was Annie Hall. I have other problems. I listen to the same 3 CDs all day.
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Worse, I used to be employed only in a theorhetical sense, making 10k one month then nothing for the next three. Things are better now, but then I have not had a girlfriend in a year and I refuse to date anyone not generally in my age range because I already have a childcare program downstairs. I'm obviously bi-polar to some degree. I hold up well in the mornings, but need afternoons off and often times late evenings to brood. Thank God I have the silos. All of which is why I have always lost these (mostly) good and fine women to Bill and Mike, Jim, Harold, Ron, Sven, Rudy and now, finally, er, Spongebob. _______________________ Okay, okay, my approach was not smooth. On the weekends, she liked to get up and watch Spongebob in the morning while having her coffee. I think that's reasonable. But I had, in my own defense, warned her the night before (after she woke up most of the building with delighted moanings and cries of utter satisfaction) that come daylight I might want to have my own turn. So I was dismayed when my advances were shunned in favor of a cup of Columbian Roast and a new episode of Spongebob! What kind of loser loses out to Java (which can be, after all, still sipped in bed) and a cartoon character (especially since we have TIVO)? What a loser. __________________
Now admittedly, it was a new episode. Second, we all know men and women are hard-wired differently for sex. Men are often like Samurai. Once the blade (or the idea of the blade) has been unsheathed, it must, er...well you get the point. Days later, the guy is still walking around muttering..."omigod...something has to be done...". Sometimes he just takes matters into his own hands. Other times this is not enough. Especially if he is in love and his woman is very beautiful. Lucky me. True on both counts.
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______________________ So I lost that day to a new sponge. That use to have a different meaning in which you actually "won". But it is really not about sex. It's about connection and intimacy, not contraception or anything otherwise. I can prove this even though I am a passionate male built to pursue. Because I really loved this woman. I know every man is not this way, but when I wake up and look over at my woman I note how her dark hair slides over her soft shoulders. I note how she smells and the wonderful curves of her body feel good and real. I relish these things...right then. She just wanted to sleep. She even snored while I thought these things. When she woke up she did not look over at me and fawn over me in similar fashion. She might have, once a week, said "ahhh..he's kinda cute". But that would be that, then roll over and go back to sleep. No it was me who woke up at 6:32 a.m. with a full bonophone ("Hey..how you doin? SPEAK into the Bonoaphone please!") on and next to a beauty that I had every ability to fully appreciate. I was, and am, simply tortured. ________________________ It's been no different in the past. Is it just me? Are other men like this? Yes and no. Some are...there are a bunch of us out there...really good and honest men who can commit, and you women largely ignore us because you are used to the other men who objectify, use, abuse and then reject you. Word. I know these men, the good ones...a lot of them. They are beautiful and fine.
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But no, you choose the Neanderthals...the Users , the Shallowmen, the Players. Again and again. Why? Because it is what you know and are use to from when you were younger. All young men loaded with testosterone are utterly warped and non-relational, unless they are gay (I'm kidding). But later, in their 30s they have to choose what they will be and mature. Some become hardened by life and you are, indeed, just a sick target for their torpedos. But other men grow deeper spiritual and emotional roots. They grow into their better selves and have learned from past mistakes, perhaps even a bad marriage from youth. But you do not recognize those guys. You know who does? You guessed it, those jaded, angry and controlling women who are the opposite numbers of the Users, Dickheads and Players. They feast on these men's souls like an empty man uses your best friend just for sex. I know this paradigm because I was drawn to angry passionate women. Big mistake because I am one of the good guys. Well I stopped choosing them a few years back. I started to choose good women who were kind, honest, and compassionate who enjoyed communicating. Of course, I still lose them to someone else, but thats because I drink too much. With that Jim drained the rest of his tall tumbler of white wine and felt the wonderful burn in the bottom of his stomach. It warmed his limbs, loosened his neck and opened his sinuses. It was time for the night shift. He folded up his leather diary and walked inside for a quick shower to refresh himself.
Chapter Fourteen
That evening there was music in The Doghouse scheduled for 8 p.m. and the band was a good one. Long-time veteran rocker-poets, the 77's arrived around 5:30 from Sacramento and began to set up. Maugham and front man Mike Roe hung out on the deck and had beers while all was being arranged. "Where's James?" Roe asked.
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The fact was Jim had slid down to the closed gallery at about the same time and had gone through the darkroom to the back and slided his key into the middle silo door and quickly closed it behind him. He never noticed Hans sliver of clear tape at the bottom of the door as it snapped. He hit the lighted panel and it illuminated a large room. He walked across the thick Oriental rug and took out a butane lighter and lighted the gas lights along the wall. In the flickering light was an immense library of old books, probably at least 4,000 that ran all the way down the Southern wall. They ran from floor to ceiling. Down on the Western wall there was a large wooden drafting table with slits underneath for charts and artwork. On the Northern wall was a simple plasma screen and a small box mounted into the wall with a big red eye. It was obviously modeled after HAL from 2001 A Space Odyssey. Jim went over to the Desk in the middle of the room and sat in the big chair. He cried for a bit for reasons unknown to him. He loved his loneliness, but it also tore at him.. After a few minutes he got up and opened the small refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of dry French wine and pulled out the cork and took a swig then went hunting for a glass in the sink. Upstairs the concert was getting under way and everyone in the building new it, even Jim down in Silo 2. The room, while heavily soundproofed could still register deep vibrations. Jim hit a switch, turned on the remote and flashed it at HAL. Frontman Roe was doing his usual bits, bantering with the audience like a clown, then starting into some heart-wrenching existential ballad. Jim adjusted the volume down low so he could read. The desk was lighted up well with captains lamps but the rest of the room was near Medieval. As he looked for his copy of Aelred of Rivaulx's Spiritual Friendship (a rare Cistertian text) Roe was playing an acoustic number in the background: I am a troubled man Trouble is what I am I am a troubled man And I'll take all you can give me I walk alone Hand in hand with my trouble But still nobody's home I'm in the poorhouse forever I'm in the doghouse forever And ever with you
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He found the book and looked up at the screen waiting for the next lines he knew so well: I am a simple man Simple is what I am I am quite simply mad And not particularly glad to be You were a simple friend I complicated you, then I lost a simple friend All complications unending I think alone I could use some good help With my thinking It's so far from home I could think of you forever I could think of us together But never mind With that he turned it down a bit more so he could read. Yet he was distracted by the second email. He had not told Maugham about the second one on purpose because it struck a little too close to home and he wanted to think about who it could possible be who would have such information. He walked to the end of the bookcases and into a small area of stacks. He grabbed a red journal from 1999 and cracked it open to check something. Then he brought it back, grabbed his glass of wine and sat on the floor against the bookcases. Behind him were rows of Russian literature. Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Pasternak, and others. In front of him, his desk to the right and the band moving into a surreal version of God Sends Quail: You failed You sunk like Jonah to the whale Big mouths follow behind you Still small voice swallowed up by you You failed You picked the right time to fail Got your past behind you Got your future in front of you You can't go back You can go on
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"Art Garfunkel wanna-be" he muttered. Then he felt stupid. Roe was ten times more versatile than Garfunkel and his lyrics deeper. With that he turned it down further and began to read in his journal from in 1999. Upstairs all attention was now on the band. The Cafe above was utterly deserted. In fact, after 20 minutes or so, they just closed up and everyone came into The Doghouse which was packed far beyond legal capacity. The only one missing was Andy, who was down in the IC trying to figure out a way to patch the music into the main computers so he could rip some copies for bootlegging. The band had finished It's For You and moved straight into The Stellazine Prophecy, a funky James-Brown-induced courageous piece of philosophy. As Roe did the Brown scream Maugham walked by Martine and whispered "Too hot in the hot tub! owwww!" She laughed and he moved on and out the door to check the parking lot. Even Hans had showed up, or stayed that night as the band played until near 11 and then finished with For Crying Out Loud. Jim had come up a few songs earlier and Roe had given him a devilish grin when spied. He gently made the rounds in the back to thanked people for coming. He reminded a few to do their duty and make sure the band was well taken care of. Then he finally sat down as Roe almost yelped: And the days drag out And the nights never end And you're tired of talking it out On the phone with all your friends Look up, and cry out Don't be afraid to scream Don't be afraid to shout Look up For crying out loud You've both been waiting for this day For a long time now Long time now Long time now
Chapter Fifteen
At around 1:30 a.m. the two vans pulled out of the parking lot and Maugham slumped back
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towards Ops and hopefully a good night's sleep. No one would disturb him after a concert night until at least 11 a.m. if they knew what was good for them. He rinsed off quickly in the tiny shower, threw on some boxers and hit the lights. There was only a small candle by his bed that floated in a water sconce attached to the wall. About fifteen minutes later the door opened. It was Martine. She came over to the bed and climbed in next to Maugham with her back to him. He did not object. "Finally he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry about what I said last night. I didn't mean to push you away." "Then can you just hold me Maug?" "Yeah," Maugham said. "Let's do that." Then he draped his long arm over her after pulling up the sheets, blew out the candle and they both fell asleep. That night Maugham had a vivid dream. It was so vivid he was awake inside the dream and knew it. He swam off into sleep holding Martine and awoke inside a large room. The ceiling was at least 50 feet high and sepia-toned clouds on old wallpaper were high above him. The expanse of the room was impressive and Maugham got up and marveled at the high ceilings which were morphing from high and dark industrial charcoal to a reddish color interspersed with large windows revealing a dark cool blue moonlight. Then he saw the most dazzling array of candles around the room in clustered bunches of 3 or 5 or 7. There were others with their own wills and agendas there that he wished to interview. Maugham's agenda was purely aesthetic and simple. He looked down and he was dressed in a dark black suit, a white Oxford button-down and good shoes. He walked the room and turned right past a few other rooms. Each had the same ambiance. There were also some dark black bamboo dividers which were perfectly formed. The same candles burned in those other rooms with a rich orange glow. He found a pad of art paper in the kitchen and asked for a few pencils. When he got back to the room he tried to draw it, but it was futile. He was just not that good. The single room was perhaps140 feet long and 60 feet deep. The floors were richly-aged hardwood and there were thick padded sofas and the same bamboo dividers for two major areas. A woman walked in. Maugham knew her as "The Betrayer". She was not a looker, just a seducer.
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Maugham was leaning back on an ottoman of some sort, trying to draw when she flopped down next to him. He had not seen her for over 3 years. The candles were burning and the room smelled wonderful. It was the most beautiful room he had ever seen. But he knew it was not his room. He started to suspect it was hers. She made a play for him which he quickly disregarded. "I have to draw" he said flatly. Then she left upset. He was not the least so. Then he woke up. Martine was snoring lightly which made him smile. "Some betrayer," he thought. "Must be somebody else. Rnonymous?
Chapter Sixteen
When Maugham woke up again it was light. Martine was gone but there was a small folded note on the nightstand. You are really sweet, when you want to be. ~M He smiled, then brooded about the dream and leapt up to fire up Ops. As the bank of three computers started to awake from slumber he threw on overalls and an old T and walked over to the cafe and plopped down at the counter. It was 10:45 and Jonathan was eating his sandwich but Maugham was in no mood. Renata got him a double Americano and he slugged down a gulp after he had dashed with with plenty of cold half and half. "Thanks Babe" he said. "Hey you know better!" she fumed suddenly and started to walk off. "Hey hey Ren...sorry...no offense...No BOUTROS!" he yelled after her. "Shit." He left and returned to Ops to check his email. There it was: Maugham He hasn't told you the truth. It's not in him. Look for the Portal. When you find the Portal you
Azotusland will find the rest. Hugs, Rnonynmous
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He slumped back in his chair and finished off his Americano. He heard laughter downstairs and knew Jim would be by in a matter of minutes. He had always been utterly straight with Jim and that was not about to change. "This bitch is nuts" he said to himself. Then Jim came in with a smile. "Damn that was good!" he said lighter than usual. "Jonathan did his Robin Williams imitation...kind of an interview and it was fucking hilarious...yet even weirder if you can believe that. I think he's ready for a stand-up night." "Well good because you better sit down for this." Jim face turned downward. "What is it?" "It's her Bro, and she's pissing me off." Jim read the screen without any reaction. "Sounds like a nutcase to me. Put it in the spam file." "What does she mean by a 'Portal'?" Maugham asked directly. "I have no idea Maug," he said. "Look I wanna be straight with you, I did get another email yesterday, and I suspect there is one on my computer right now. I just didn't want to alarm you, but I looked in some old journals and I think I might have some clues...just a possibility, okay?" "Okay Bro. Not a problem. You know I got your backside no matter what." With that they got up and walked down to the Bunkhouse. There was another email. They both looked at the screen intently, then turned and looked grimly at each other without a word.
Chapter Seventeen
Unlike the past emails, which were short, this one was a long and violent rant interspersed with soft entreaties, a long psychological analysis of Jim, a list of his historical mistakes, then more "what if" scenarios for their future bliss. She seemed at times recent and at others almost like someone from his childhood. In either case
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she was clearly obsessed, and possibly dangerous. She kept mentioning a portal and then went off into another tirade or entreaty. "Okay Jim," Maugham said flatly. "Who is she?" "I'm honestly not sure Maug. I can tell you one story, one possibility, but it isn't my favorite." "Okay, it's fine" Maugham said hitting his knee. "Hey! It's me!" Jim opened two beers, gave one to Maug and then laid down propped up on the long bed. "It was just after the Jennifer Connelly debacle with Manfred." Just then Manfred came in from the other room. "Yes Sahib?" Jim looked at Manfred, then at Maug then back at Manfred. "I'm fine little buddy.How is Jennifer?" "OH Joy of Joys!! She is both Preggers and she is doing the dance of Shiva on Matt's head!" "Good, good Manfred...catcha later. Maug and I need to talk." Manfred left but Jim put on a Nick Drake CD just in case and they moved out on to the small deck. They kicked their shoes off. It was cool with a light breeze and some nice clouds. "So are you the Portal-master?" Maugham asked. "Ohhhhhh youuu Zoooleee-Zule.... No. I am not the Portal-master or the Key-master and keep the fucking Sta-puff marshmallow man outta my backyard." "Okay, tell me about the dame?" "The dame?" "Sorry...it's a bad habit recently." "After the Connelly incident I was, well humiliated, but also kinda charged," he said. "A woman contacted me on the Internet and wanted to meet for coffee. I didn't want to meet her
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here obviously. I mean no romance with me can survive this building." "Oh really, what about Renata and Rand?" "Okay, I grant that." "What about Roo and Peter?" "Okay. That's two." "What about Hans and his bicycle?" "Can we not talk about sex so much?" "Love and Death." Maugham grinned. "Good. Can we get back to the night?" Jim asked, taking a swig. "Okay." "So we met for coffee in Fairfax. Damn. And it was a rare San Andreas pheremonic dual reaction." "You are sure this was you?" "Asshat," Jim hissed. "Anyway, you know I never bring anyone back here unless it is damned serious. But I did that night." "Where was I Jimbo-sabe?" "It was a concert night so everyone was busy and distracted and the walls were vibrating like a Close Encounters Mountain under the mothership." "Nice ref." "Thanks" "Well while that was going on we ended up in the Bunkhouse." "What about Manfred?" "You know...you remember." "Ah, yes, you made him sleep in the theater for a month after the Connelly incident." "Yes."
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"We talked relationships, religion, spirituality and arts. We moved to the bed and talked more then things just exploded like a chain reaction over the next few hours." "Details." "You are such a girl," Jim said. "All I will say is she fucked me like a wild animal who could not be sated. I think the next day I drove to the beach and slept for four hours. Henry Miller's got nothing on me" "Tell me about tha.." Jim cut him off. "Nope sorry. A gentleman does not discuss such things. Notice I have not asked you for details about Martine and last night." "Wha-tha!?" "The all seeing Oz, er...well..sees all...that's why he is all seeing." Jim laughed. "Beware the man behind the curtain!" "So why her?" Maug asked. "I dunno. Just a possibility. She had an intensity and a cadence that is around the edges of these words we just looked at. Might be nothing. Hell it could be someone like Rodan playing a trick on me. Beware friends of over 20 years. I once plagued him with phone messages for a year from an ultra-mousy "Concerned Guy" who would pour over his lyrics and leave critiques. He was pissed when he found out it was me all along. Really pissed. "So it could just be payback because you are deranged and like deranged people? "The thought had occurred to me."
Chapter Eighteen
At 6 p.m. Jim walked down to the Azotus Gallery and let himself in while quickly locking up from behind. He did not see Hans in the corner of the Darkroom because his eyes had not yet adjusted to the red lights. He slipped the key into Silo door 2 and entered, locking it behind. Hans came over and placed his ear against the door but heard absolutely nothing. It was two hours till Azotus Movie Night and Jim flashed the remote at HAL and a menu hit the screen. He selected the date and Wim Wender's masterful Wings of Desire started up on the screen. He loved the playful, yet brooding way it started with The angel Damiel (Bruno Ganz) scribbling in his journal "Als das Kind Kind war" which means "When the Child was still a Child" but Jim knew the original German meant more. It was the sing-song of an inquisitive open child still capable of awe, wonder and good humor. Like the children who saw Jesus with fresh eyes or how his daughter Matisse looked at the world
Azotusland and saw everything as art.
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He jotted down some notes for when the film was over, and not a few questions to ask for those who stayed awake all the way through. "Then he shut things down and said under his breath "Could be worse. Could be Cries and Whispers." Jim welcomed the 12 people who had come to the Movie Night. Good turnout for a foreign film with subtitles. Jacob was there next to a woman who wore basketball shoes. Hans was there (of course) to make sure he corrected any mistakes of translation. Manfred was in the back eating gummy bears. There were some newcomers for sure, but he also spied Renata and Rand cuddled up in the back not far from Ted who looked glum. Two seats over was the Rev. Tanka breathing heavy. "Well let's everyone take a moment and at least say their name as an icebreaker." Jim began. "Then I will say a bit about the film and we'll get right into it," Jim said,. Just then a lanky woman with long blond hair walked it, looked up and said "Oh. I'm sorry. I'm River." "Nice to have you here River, please make yourself at home." Introductions went around. Jim, Jacob, Delphia, Manfred, Hans, Renata, Rand, Ted, River, Cara, Whispah, Fred and the Rev Tanka. The lights dimmed all the way down and the small blue lights in the floor turned up a bit and the film began. Around half way through the film Martine came in with a tray of espressos. "It's late folks" Jim said and offered up free samples in a five minute break. They mulled around at bit then Rev. Tanka spoke up. "Well now Dear Brothers and Sisters...I must protest this vile and detestable film." Jim smiled and sat on his stool. "What do you find objectionable?" he asked the reverend. "It's a film about Dah-Nazi's who later were yooouused by the CIA and the KGB both! To create-tah the secret stash of nuclear weapons now hidden in a secret underwater missle base just off the Farallon Islands!"
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"We appreciate your concern Reverend and invite you to post your full reaction on the website tomorrow. Now we have to finish the film." With that the Rev. Tanka took leave for a smokie and did not return. As the film started and as he watched Cassiel (Otto Sander) in the film he thought how much Cassiel was like Maugham. It was wrong of him to keep Maugham of all people in the dark. But it was hard for Jim to live transparent. Still something steeled in him that night and throughout the discussion that he would let Maugham in, all the way. Beside that, if he wasn't very careful he might be dead in a few weeks and no one would ever know why.
Chapter Nineteen
When the film ended Manfred excused himself. "Manfred, where are you going?" Jim asked. "Tivo Sahib!" and he clapped his hands "Oh Joy!" and scampered off. "Hes zon idiot,"Hans said. "Well initial responses?" Jim asked. "Vell Jim za whole translation was all wrong except for Peter Falk's part." "Well, we're kinda at a loss on that part Hans. None of us speak German." he said. "Was there a certain part that seemed utterly wrong?" "Vats da point Jim?" he said "I can only tell you in German." "Anyone else?" Jim asked. River raised her hand and said "I think it was interesting how they were invisible yet could hear all the inner monologues of the people, yet they seemed sympathetic." "They seemed sad and pensive," said Renata. The conversation wound around for about 25 minutes with people getting up and helping themselves to different things they had brought to share. Rand spoke up toward the end. "Can we see the words from the last speech that she gives in the bar?" "Of course," Jim said smiling.
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He hit a few buttons on the remote and it switched to a website. "Not to be alarmed," Jim said. I actually asked Rand to ask that question and I cued this up several hours ago. If our WiFi is up and running we shd be good." The screen changed to a picture of the final scenes in the bar. "this and other sections of the film were written by Peter Handke, who often works with Wenders. Wenders likes to work with other artists in an open way. Notables have been U2 and Brian Eno, but as you can see in this film Nick Cave was his choice. The words: I must put an end to coincidence! The new moon of decision! I don't know if there is destiny, but there is decision! Decide! We are the present now. Not just the whole town, the whole world is taking part in our decision. We two are now more than just two. We embody something. We are seated at the Square of the People, and the entire square is filled with people who wish the same as we do. We decide the game for everyone! I am ready. It is your turn now. You have the game in the hand. Now or never. You need me. You will need me. There is no greater story than ours, of man and woman. It will be a story of giants, invisible, transferable, a story of new ancestors. Look, my eyes! They are the image of necessity, of the future of everyone in the square. Last night, I dreamt of a stranger, of my man. Only with him could I be alone, open up to him, completely open, completely for him, let the whole of him enter me completely, surround him with the labyrinth of shared bliss. I know that it is you. "Well it is late. My invitation to you is to go onto Azotuscafe.com tomorrow and take a look at this site. Then write your own responses to any of Peter Handke's poetry or the movie that you found compelling. "Have a good night and come back soon ...some of you first thing in the morning." There was laughter and they closed the theater down. As they did Maugham had slipped into bed and slowly unbuttoned Martine's nightshirt in the candlelight. Her breath expanded as he did and she started to pant a bit. He looked at her as his hand slowly moved down and one long finger slid under dark lace, then around the places most men forget to touch. She gasped awhile later as he pulled her in close and mouthed her in a new way. Her back arched and he felt her left leg finally relax and move away.
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Martine took him in fully. She thought after about the long strenuous dance and how his hunger had been so palpable, yet she thought she saw a tear in his eye. But he just smiled and draped his long hair over her breast and fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Jim left the theater and made sure everyone got to the parking lot safely. He noticed how beautiful River was. Long, lean...sweet. Then he turned up the stairs. "What's the point?" At the top floor he passed by Ops and heard a woman, Martine no doubt, moaning loudly as she was being driven with abandon. "Good for them," he thought, then made haste to his door to give them due respect. Once inside he saw that the small mini-kitchen was an utter disaster. It reeked of curry and there were six or seven pans, most of them burnt, in the small sink. Two empty cartons of ice cream were stacked to overflow in the trash. There was a bowl of old yogurt on the toaster quickly becoming a new life form. He opened Manfred's door in an unhappy state only to find him with his ear to the wall using a glass. "Stop that!" he ordered. "Stop what Sahib?" "Stop all of it Manfred," he said exasperated. "I do not care how you do it, but i want those dishes cleaned by tomorrow morning and no excuses." Manfred looked sad. "But Sahib...my hands?" Jim put his hands up to his face and rubbed hard. "Fine., But I will find a suitible job for you tomorrow. Set your Tivo...You will need it. And give me that fucking glass!" He shut the door . "Fuck!" Then he went in and turned off the lights and crawled into his unmade bed and pulled the covers up over his head. "Fucking Manfred!" he thought. Then he relaxed and chuckled a bit. It had been 6 months since
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the Jennifer Connelly incident and the longer away from it he was the funnier it got. "Many good thank-yous" he said quietly to Manfred's wall and he went back to that day to revisit.
Chapter Twenty-One
Manfred has been Jim's "faithful" manservant for 4 or so years. As such his main duty had always been to "bring the car around". Beyond that, Manfred simply watched soap operas, ate all of Jim's food and to tried (soap opera style) to "steal Jim's womanz." Given Jim's track record the last few years it was obvious Manfred had a high success rate. It is no secret around The Azotus Caf that Jim has a certain penchant for dark-haired beauties with amazing eyes and high cheekbones. He, himself, would always admit this after a few beers. While Jim claimed not to be ruled by it, it was debatable. Apparently he had some override capabilities if needed, but still...that was his default setting. As such he had always had a major goofy celebrity crush on Jennifer Connelly. You could see it when the utterly stupid film Career Opportunities came on and his eyes would glaze over as JC skated through the aisles of the Target store. In this way Jim was like Pavlov's retarded dog. The film, The House of Sand and Fog was set in Northern California not far from The Azotus Caf, then in its second year of operation. At a locals casting party for extras, Jim struck up an unusual conversation with Connelly. He has never revealed what the substance was except to say that it involved a convoluted discussion of Kierkegaard's Diary of a Seducer and his own private recipe for making gravlax. Later the two were seen out back playing one-on-one basketball. Jim let her win, but only by four. When Manfred brought the car around (early it should be added), he spied Connelly and got out to both introduce himself and find a way to drive an immediate wedge. "Oh Sahib!" he cried aloud. "Who indeed is this most wonderfulnesses of womanz?" Before Jim could stop him he continued. "Oh you are the goddess what Jim speaks of so very very often...usually late at night when he is alone!" he exclaimed. "Manfred!" "Okay okay...I just here you mumble" he said quietly. "Yeah, yeah..c'mon Manfred stop with the act" Jim said.
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Connelly chuckled and sort of half-blushed. Jim panicked inside, and started to sweat in odd places, but held it together. "I should go," she said. "I have an early call. Then she held out her hand. He took it and slid a glance toward Manfred that said "I will fucking kill you in ten minutes." Manfred giggled. "Can I give you a lift back?" Jim asked. "Oh I have a driver," Connelly said. "Care to trade?" Jim asked sarcastically. "Yeah sure...that would be fun!" Connelly bounced. Jim felt a tightening in his chest and the sudden urge to chain Manfred to the back of the Mustang and take him for a long scrape. "Did you know that you look a little like Ben Kingsley?" Connelly asked Manfred. "Ben who?" Manfred replied "Is he on the OC?" "Er, no. Nevermind." "Oh!!" Manfred cried out..."what a wonderfulness this is in all its splendor!!" And he absconded with Jennifer Connelly and left Jim to deal. But Jim never found the driver, so he woke up in the Bunkhouse, after walking home in the fog and settling in at around 4 a.m. with a glass of scotch. Manfred and the Mustang were still unaccounted for. He considered throwing himself off the top deck of the Azotus but figured the drop was not nearly severe enough to kill him. He figured if there was not a landing inbetween the deck and the parking lot deep below it would be enough. He wondered if he could do it in stages, then decided against it on pain principles. He had no car and Manfred had gone AWOL. But he had his mountain bike. So he grabbed it and headed down the stairs before realizing that both tires were flat.
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So Jim walked the two miles to the station that had a pump- only you need two quarters to pump simple air. He begged a woman in a huge SUV and she relented. It started to get hot but Jim moved ahead. Mile after mile he pumped away. It got colder and colder the farther into the valley he got and closer to the coast. When he finally pulled up to the house he spied Manfred walking down the drive of the house and saw him inexplicably grab Connelly's arm in anger and twirl her around! Jim was outraged and bolted over a small fence and tackled Manfred into the dark gravel in a mad rush. Suddenly others were all over him, yelling at him, and pulling him off. In a daze he looked off West and saw Manfred standing serene against a long fence about 50 feet away. Jim had attacked Sir Ben Kingsley in the middle of filming and had utterly mortified Jennifer Connelly. Two security guards pulled Jim from the ground and hustled him into the house of sand and fog where they promptly called the police. Kingsley walked in and said, "Are you nuts?" "I'm sorry sir," Jim said. "It's just I thought you were Manfred and you were attacking Ms. Connelly." "The film crew didn't clue you?" "I thought he had busted into the set," he said wagging his head. "Instead it turns out to be me." There was an awkward silence while the security guard called in to the police station. "I mean no disrespect," Jim said, "but you and Manfred look an awful lot alike." "Who is Manfred?" Kingsley asked. "He's, er...well..." he shook his head again. "We joke that he is my 'man-servant'," he said flatly. "You have a man-servant, yet you ride a bicycle. Is this typical for Marin?" Kingsley asked with steely precision, a look not unlike several Jim had seen him in Sexy Beast. That image shook him, especially since he was handcuffed. He tried to think of another film...and got it. Death and the Maiden where Kingsley was handcuffed to a chair and interrogated by Sigorney Weaver. "I feel a bit like Dr. Miranda in your movie" "They will be along soon enough to administers your rights," Kingsley said slyly.
Azotusland Jim laughed. "That was a good one," Jim said.
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"And if you remember, despite his protestations Dr. Miranda does confess and is guilty." "Well I am only guilty of mistaking you for Manfred. If you could just have Chester over here fetch him it would become clear." Just then Ms. Connelly walked in, which both excited Jim and made him wish he was in another country...Preferably a remote one like Iceland. "I think I have an explanation," she said with a smile. "I met this man last night and he was a perfect gentleman. He loaned me the services of his manservant Manfred who drove me back to my hotel." Jim looked up at Connelly and smiled then at Kingsley. "Apparently Manfred did not understand the deal," she continued, "and he stayed out in the Mustang all night so he could bring me here this morning." "So?" snapped Kingsley. "What does this man have to do with him attacking me?" "Well Manfred does look a great deal like you," she said then kinda bit her lower lip. Jim almost fainted, but held on. "Let me go get him and I think you will understand," she said then smiled at Jim. "And let's get those handcuffs off him. "Hey Chester!" Kingsley said, "get the cuffs off Dr. Miranda will you?" Manfred walked in a few minutes later with Chester and Sir Ben Kingsley began to laugh. "He looks like me?" he said. "Ha! Oh yes, I suppose a bit," he said shaking his head and looking away. "Oh indeed by jove sir! What a wonderfulness to meet you here in the flesh!" cried Manfred in his typical Ghandi-like fashion. "Why did Sahib tackle you in the dirt?" "He thought I was you and that I was attacking Ms. Connelly here," Kinglsey said calmly. "Oh No Sir!" Manfred said defiantly. "I would never disturb Ms. Connelly. "I JUST bring the car around." Then Manfred lifted up his pant legs and began to hop around doing a little dance around the living room chanting "Ghandi-Gee, Ghandi-Gee! Ghandi-Gee!!" Jim now thought moving to Keflavik sounded better and better. Connelly looked down at her
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feet. Chester put his hand on his billy-club. Kingsley stood up. "Well I think we have all had enough," Kingsley said. "Manfred?" "Yes, Ghandi-Gee?" "If you would be so kind I would like you to take this gentleman home safely. We will explain to the police that it was a misunderstanding." "Yes, Sahib," Manfred said grinning. "And now you must go and we will go," Kingsley said steady. "Later today I have to put a plastic bag over my head and suffocate. I feel quite prepared to do that scene now." Jim stood up and walked toward Connelly and the door. "Thanks," he said quietly when he reached her. "What was the name of that book?" she asked. "Oh, in this case I'd choose another by Kierkegaard... The Concept of Dread." "I actually read some of that in Grad school," she said. "Perfect." he said even. "I'd stay and discuss it with you but the police will be here any minute for me. Fitting huh?" She laughed and they shook hands. Then Manfred said "Sahib!! An autograph!" Jim pushed him out the door without a word and they walked down the sidewalk toward the car. "Autograph?! Idiot!" he muttered low and lean. "So why didn't you come home Manfred? Weren't you hungry! Didn't you miss some episodes of your favorite shows?" "Oh Sahib, you are so silly!" he exclaimed. " I have Tivo in my room! No no no no, Indeed I wanted to tell the wonderful Ms. Connelly all about you." Jim looked off to the side and talked directly to God and said "You see what I deal with?" When they got to the car Jim said "I'm driving," as he unlocked it and slide in. He thought about making Manfred ride the bike back but didn't. "Can you get the bike and put it on the back rack please?" he asked. As Manfred scampered off he saw him waving to Ben Kingsley who had come outside. Jim's head slumped into the steering wheel.
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The bike racked, they tore off down the road toward San Rafael. Then he just had to ask. "Okay, so what did you tell her?" "Oh in sublime moments of self-revelation and utter disclosure I did in full gloriousness depict you in all your splendor!" "You told her about my ex-wives in other words." "Oh YES!! She was most intrigued, especially about the incident in Mazatlan!" Jim groaned. "I suppose you told her all about Miami?" he said glumly. "Nope." "No?" "Not enough time." "Great," Jim said. "But Tahoe-Condo...yes." "Do you hate me Manfred?" "No no no no Sahib!" he exclaimed with joy. "I love Sahib! You are my Mortifier!" "You mean role-model..." "Oh?...oh okay...that too," Manfred said more quietly. "Anything else?" Jim asked looking out the window. "Ummmm...thinking," Manfred said looking out the other window. "Oh YES!! I told her that you are a Horny man!" "You mean holy man," he said under his breath. "Oh yes!! Indeed!! Yes, that is what I should have said! But I did, in goodness and conjugation depict the deep level of your spiritual horniness!" "So it all worked out then," Jim said sardonically. "Did for me."
Azotusland "How so?" "I got her phone number."
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Chapter Twenty-Two
Jim did chuckle now laying there in bed. Things seemed to have finally quieted down in Ops. He liked Martine a lot and loved Maugham as much as any friend he had ever had. They were a handsome couple. For Jim it has been awhile since he had any female company, and he was never any good, even in his own place, of picking up on women. It never worked that way for him. His last "date" had been with a ravishing woman about his age, but she didnt look it. She was fiery, smart and creative. She was a bit in awe of The Azotus and how it all worked day-in and day out, but she had some interest in Jim. It was actually she who pursued him and he enjoyed her and thought they might date for awhile until he got an email. He burst into Manfred's room not unlike Kramer in Seinfeld and demanded an explanation. "But Sahib! She called youus and I told her about your growing feelings and how very relational you are!" "And what did she say Manfred?" "She rang off after that." Jim looked down at the printout. "It's obvious you are a lot more serious than I can be at this time. Look Jim, I really just wanted to have sex. That's it. But now it will get all complicated. You're a nice man. Goodluck with your Cafe thingy. Jim turned slowly and shut the door quietly behind him and walked away. At least it had not been Manfred's fault with Samantha (or at least not that he could discern). That was three months before the Connelly incident (which by the way, had made the rounds until Jonathan nailed the whole thing in a three-parter where he perfectly dissect the action into 8 minutes segments. Even Jim was in hysterics) and he and Sam had been an item for a full six months when she suddenly just turned away. Literally. Jim noticed that she always had her back to him in bed, unless she was really hard sleeping. But when she awoke, she would quickly turn away.
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He would lay there looking at the ceiling, then finally get up after an hour and slog down to Silo 1 or Silo 2. Usually he was too tired to read unless his sexual and emotional frustration was at an apex. Then he would write feverishly on an old ibook that was not hooked into any system. Silo 1 was another story. Upon entering there was a long bank of panels to the left, behind which was an elaborate electron array that ran just about everything to all three silos. It was fully self-contained with it's own separate source of power, which itself had redundant systems. In a small room there were stack and stacks of neatly order batteries which "cleansed" the incoming power, and provided another level of redundancy. Jim was a lot more nerdish than many realized. Beyond the panels (and it was behind panel one that the guts of HAL resided) was a long cement stairway down into the heart of the mountain.
Chapter Twenty Three

The Wednesday morning rush the next week was good for business but hard on the crews. Martine called down to the IC and asked Maugham to come up and help in The Doghouse and for Andy to open the IC up for spillovers for people in a rush. As Maugham logged out and got up to leave Andy asked him "Can you put the small sign out for me Maug?" "Sure troll, we wouldn't want the sun to hit you," he hissed. Maugham hiked upstairs and his hands dropped at his side when he saw the scene inside. "Cripes!" He tied back his hair and entered the melee next to Martine. She bumped him playfully with her hip and asked him to assist Roo by taking orders for her down the line. Hans was meticulously cleaning the condiment bars and was actually doing a good job of turning over tables and wiping them down for new customers. Upstairs Sex had walked into the Cafe, waited a good twenty minutes to get her Chai Latte then found a small table out on the long deck and sat down. Jacob came over after a few minutes looking like he could not find a place. "Miss?" "Yes?" "Do you mind if I sit here?' "No I do not mind but I must finish my book this morning so I will not be a very good host."
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"Thats, er, fine," he said. After a few minutes he noticed she was reading The Multi-Orgasmic Man in a serious way and he tried to strike up a conversation. "I hope you do not mind my asking, but does that book make use of the concept of "Chi"? "Yes, it does" she said flatly, looking into his soft but deep brown eyes. "I read that control of Chi is essential in lovemaking," he said warmly. "Yes, it is essential to control Chi in many ways and at the appropriate times," she said clinically, returning to her book. Jacob grabbed his newspaper and pretended to read it, occasionally sipping his tea. He thought about Ked Woman. Damn she was sexy in a quirky way, but she knew exactly what she was doing. He always had the feeling that she was really running things with them but he could not prove it. She was subtle and sly unless it came to how she thrusted on him and seemed to know just when to stop and let him cool down. Then she would pull him over on top of her and grab his ass gently at first, but then more aggressively and moan loudly, but then back him off, once again just before the precipice. Forty minutes later he would be drenched and she too and she would have gotten him to shudder, but not come at least four or five times. And when he did at last, it had the force of four regular orgasms and the reverb would come like hard waves and shake his whole body for minutes after. But she always seemed troubled the next day and a bit aloof. Quiet, introspective and a little lost. She often would become monosyllabic and he would finally leave. Jacob was not sure about their future, and he wondered if somehow he was actually being played. It was confusing and he felt a little...no, utterly outmatched. So he decided to pretend he was shallow and play the field. This woman was having none of it. A few tables down Rev. Tanka was discussing something with Maurice in hushed tones. "Maurice, dear brother...I have-vah da plans for you-hoo," he said smiling. Maurice was not impressed. He had been soundman/producer of Tanka weekday radiocasts for over nine months and it was a thankless task with many promises made, but few, if any, ever delivered. "Ah have-vah this friend down in Tex-sus der Maurice." then he would breath in heavily and continue, "Anda he hassah him da love boat cruises for da Christians. And-hah I am in SERIOUS-sah negotiations-sah with a da Mr. Smithey who runs-sah dees tours for da
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"And I suppose you want me to be your cabin boy, right man?" "Now, no no no no Maurice...ho ho..back and down boy." It pissed Maurice off when Tanka called him "boy' but he realized the reverend didn't have a racist bone in his body. He was just flat out crazy and utterly devoid of self-reflection or he would not embarrass himself so. Maurice let it go. Once, early on, he had tried to explain a "point" to the Rev, Tanka, whose eyes somewhat glazed over and he finally interrupted and said "Well la-ha I dunnuh know about all the complicated stuff there Maurice. I never went to dah college like-ah you. But let's go have us a smokie!" Maurice disliked "smokie time". First off, the Rev Tanka was almost always out of smokes. Second, he could clearly see the man was killing himself and it reminded him that twenty years from now it would be him wheezing and gasping for breath while killing off his lungs. "Dis Mah-han is a geni-oous!" said Tanka. "He takes the hot topics of the day-yuh and makes dem hottah. Then he books him the love boat cruises for da Christians who pay da big bucks to learn about-tah dees tings." "I have-vah sent him da cassetes about da White Schuooger and Da damons, and he is-sah considering yours true-lay to be in the level three seminars-sah on da boat-tah!" "Okay, so when do we leave and what's in it for me?" (Maurice thought about saying "me-yah" but knew it would be lost on Tanka. All humor or subtleties were.) "You will travel as my sound-dah man, anna be there for ahall of my-yah lectures-sah. And hav-vah your own stateroom on da boat! And-ah an extra $500." "When do we leave?" Maurice asked unimpressed. "On July the Fourth-thah from ama da San Francisco! And wee will be gone for ten days-sah up to Alaskah. Now lets go get a smokie.
Chapter Twenty Four

There had been four more messages since the Thursday before. Two had been to Jim, and two to Maugham. They thought about simply blocking the mysterious emails, but Jim felt it had become a serious threat. After they reviewed them once more Jim looked at Maugh and said "I want you to meet me tonight down in the Gallery at 8:15. Come alone and don't mention it to anyone, okay?" "Sound mysterious...you doing bad paintings again?" "Just come as I ask," Jim said seriously.
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"Okay Jim," Maugham said serious himself. "What about Movie Night?" "Oh, Jacob's leading that tonight," he said. "I've got the night off...but you don't."
That afternoon there were fun things happening. A quick look at the Azotuscafe.com website revealed that at 1 p.m., when the Batcave closed, Jeremy had invited all kids and parents to play "Mouse-Trap Crochet" on the grounds. At 2 p.m., Andy was giving free computer lessons in the IC. At 4 p.m., Hans was giving a lecture on Cubism in the gallery and a local chapbook author was doing a signing in the Library. Shawshank Redemption was being shown in the Theater at 8 and all the while, another 300 or so people could come and leave the Azotus Caf . Just before 1 p.m., Sex approached the tanned and handsome figure sitting inside the cafe. "Hello Simon," she said. He looked up. "hmnn. No Halo." "Oh you can play that in the IC if you like," she said grinning. "What are you so happy about if I might ask?" "Well it's not often I meet a perfect gentleman such as yourself." "Well, I try," he smiled. "Let me ask you. How are the kids...hmnnn. Bright Lucille and precocious little Antione?" "They love it here," she said. "And I get a break..a needed one." "May I sit down?" she asked. "Oh, of course," he said rising and getting her chair. "Forgive my lack of proper breeding." "Oh I think you quite well bred Simon," she said winking. "I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed our chats last week and Monday and appreciated that you, well...you are not like most other men." "Well, I don't know what to say Sex," he said smiling warmly. "I've enjoyed our conversations too and I hope we have many more." They chatted for about twenty minutes then she said, "Well I have to go and pick up the kids. That little GQ hunk downstairs is hosting some bizarre game on the grounds and the kids are quite excited." "Well you have a wonderful time Sex," he said rising and getting her chair.
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"I never realized how tall you were" she said. Now another man would have made some crack about the fact that Sex was only 5'1", but not this man. "I hope you have a wonderful afternoon. I am actually going to watch a bit of the games from the deck, if I can get a seat," he said. And as she walked off he said "Give my best to Dan. I look forward to meeting him." As mentioned before, the grounds of the Azotus Caf had once been a mansion built in the late 1800s and not far from the old seminary on the hill which use to be the town proper. The grounds had actually been an interconnected series of three mansions with walkways slicing and curving up the mountainside and connecting all three in a rather playful ways. But in the 1920s the owners had come into financial difficulties and were forced to break the entire property into three distinct parcels. The only thing that reminded folks of the past were the many paths that seemed to go nowhere. The paths would now end abruptly in a fence, or simply drop off like a 1990s San Francisco freeway project. In most cases, Jim had constructed some artful barricade and made creative use of plants to make it seem complete. Many of the paths ended with a rustic table and a few plastic chairs so people could sit and admire the valley. But Jeremy had taken those all off to the side and stacked them while he, Lucille, and Carver all plotted the elaborate course. Carver was eleven, a home-schooler and extremely bright and imaginative. He and Lucille had hit it off immediately, neither of them caring about the boy/girl thing because the other was just so interesting. Jeremy had seen the friendship blossom in just a few days and so he invited them to help him build his "Mouse-Trap." He had shown them the game and they had played it on two occasions. After the second one, which Lucille had won handily, he asked them, "What if we made Azotus into a giant Mouse-Trap?" "I don't understand," Carver said. "Well think of the grounds here," he said. They looked puzzled. "Wait here a minute," Jeremy said, and he rang upstairs to The Doghouse.
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"Is Jonathan there?" he asked. "Yeah" Renata answered. "He's just finishing his Sean Connery is Gay routine. " "Well can you send him down for a fifteen minute stint here in the cave?" "Sure." Ten minutes later Jonathan show up with two helium baloons, sat down on the floor with the kids, opened one up and inhaled and then said "Ask me anything?" as Jeremy, Lucille and Carver began to walk the grounds. As they hiked up on a long sloping path he asked them "so thinking of the game what do you see?" They were quiet. They went through a corkscrewish area that led to a small stair case around the West side. There was a long cement drainage ditch that curved around and under the staircase. Down on the next landing the left path went up just a bit but really no where. It was blocked by a large planter box at the end to keep people from falling of the edge of the estate. The downsloping pathway went due East and for a long way until it hit the huge top of the rampart. From there it was a 80 foot drop to the pathway below where the front doors to the Batcave and Theater were on the path, and that path sloped violently down with a severe bank at the end. Jeremy sat down at the stone table with the children and asked again, "What do you see here in a Mouse-Trap way?" Both of their faces lighted up at the same time which made Jeremy start laughing and they started to laugh too! "Why of course!" Carver said and then he went and looked over the rampart wall, then up above at the deck and the various paths that shot off from the major landing. He started to giggle. "But Jeremy..." Lucille asked, "will they let us do it? And what will we use for a ball?" "Leave that to me," Jeremy said. "As for you too, we need to get back. But let's start mapping out how to do it."
Chapter Twenty Five

Jim scoffed at Jeremy at first, but let the young man reel out his whole line. At the end he told him he'd think about it and applauded Jeremy for, if nothing else, ingenuity and taking his job seriously. After Jeremy left, Jim placed a call into Alice and asked her if she could meet him Saturday
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morning, after the rush, for a coffee date on him. "You'll save me some pumpkin bread" she said directly. "Of course Alice," he said. "Bring your little notepad. I think I have a project you can finally help with." Alice was one of the very best landscape architects in Marin. She was in her mid-fifties but had the energy and determination of a college freshman. For the last three years she had been after Jim to let her work her magic on Azotus. A specialist in fountains, crystals, lighting and all manner of landscaping, Azotus was one of the larger canvases she had set her sights on for her considerable talents. But that was the problem really. To let her paint something truly unique would not only take years, it would take 2 or 3 million dollars minimum. She pitched Jim yearly and he would shake his head and sadly say, "not this year Alice." Despite the superb slab of pumpkin bread which Jim had saved (they usually ran out by 8:30) she was a little disappointed when she showed up at 10:15 the next day and they sat down and Jim started talking about building a giant mouse trap. But she liked Jim a lot and saw what an adventure it was. Besides it was slow right then, and if she did this for a few days Jim would owe her. "All right Sweetie," she said brightly. "Where are the architects?" "Downstairs in the Batcave, I think," he said. "I'll go call down and make sure." Downstairs a group of young boys was bombing Magnetos's secret base and over in the corner Antione had Luke Skywalker in the Rancor Monster's mouth. "Take that Luke" he said. Jeremy was in the art area sitting cross-legged and looking at a stack of designs that Lucille and Carver had come up with. "Oh My ...er, Word" he said after he got through a few. They giggled and looked at each other. The door to the Batcave opened and Jim ducked in with Alice. Matisse jumped up and flew into Jim's arms. "Papi!!" "Hey baby," he said hugging her back. "Can you be ready in about five minutes for our trip?
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"Yes, I can" she said in a slightly affected English accent." "But Fuuuust YOU must see my artwork!" "Give me just a minute Pumpkin," he said. "Alice, this is Jeremy.....the Grand Conspirator, and these are his devoted minions, Lucille and Carver." "Well!" Alice exclaimed, her face lighting up. "You too look busy!! Now show me your plans for your project and she sat down on the floor like she was just 7 and they started to look. "You okay Alice?" "Of course Jim. Dont I look okay?" He smirked. "I'll call you tomorrow Big Man." "Thanks Alice," he said. "Yer a gem." Jim looked at Matisse's artwork, which was nothing short of amazing. He wondered what he might have done had he been encouraged at her age. She was brilliant and utterly focused. After, he took Matisse's hand and they walked out after he had signed her out. Once he had forgotten but had not even made it near the door when Jeremy called out "er BOOK!". Matisse did come at times during the week and had free run of the place so long as someone knew where she was. Her mother, a terse intellectual named Sabine would drop her off at scheduled times which coincided with her studies up at the Seminary. Then every other Saturday he would have her the entire day and they would go exploring in the City, or at the beach, or to a movie and lunch. Jim made sure to protect these times and Maugham dutifully served as Jim on those two days a month. That Saturday morning early he had gotten the third note and it was dark and vindictive. He decided it must be Helen. It had only been that one long night really, followed by a brief second meeting. She had invited him to her stylish condominium in Tiburon to the East of Azotus. It had been a disaster which ended when she kicked him out in a violent outburst. He had never told anyone about it, but he decided that day to tell Maugham and he started to form a plan. So that Saturday he had packed up the Mustang with art supplies, the blankets, the "bag of fun" and lots of extra clothes and towels. Then her turned West out of the Azotus parking lot and
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He was trying to remember if he had forgotten something. He checked his wallet, watch, glasses and cellphone. He sighed then looked all the way up to the balcony and deck and saw Maugham on the railing some 250 feet higher and looking down at him smiling. Jim waved and Maugham nodded with a smile (or so it seemed) and went back inside as Jim and Matisse drove off to Pt. Reyes for a day of fun and good food.
Chapter Twenty Six

Alice had come through. She showed up at the IC at 10:15 every morning. Andy would have her free double espresso and pumpkin bread ready for her so she could go back down to work with Jeremy and the kids with no delays. She had two associates come with her for just the hour with various old pieces of, well weird stuff. Tim and Juan would bring old warped rain gutters, broken pedestals, long wide steel tubes and bags and bags of sand and rock up the big steps to the main landing. A wheelbarrow and a lot of tools also showed up and Maugham noticed a stack of at least 10 rolls of duct tape out on the stone table while he went into the IC to check his email. When Alice was "On" she was a field general. Jim had let it be known that she had complete control and was not to be questioned. At 11:15 everyday she would depart and it was not until the day before, on the next Wednesday, that she actually was there all day. The interesting thing was not much changed cosmetically about the building. It really, to customers, just looked like some small work crews were doing minor repairs. Jim was immensely pleased and told Alice so. "Yes, well..." she said looking ahead. "One day soon you will pay on the other end." "Yes Alice," he said looking out smiling, "I know." Of course there were a few incidents. Hans was not at all pleased when the work crew came in and cut a hole in an old unused duct and then jerry-rigged a long ramp through the Gallery that poked out one of the main windows. "You haff RUINED ze symmetry!!" he yelled at Tim, but Tim paid him no mind. The wrath of this slim German was nothing compared to Alice without her espresso. It was only on Wednesday that any of the staff really noticed or suspected what was going on.
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Since multiple projects and events were always the order of the day it was just not that unusual. Everyone knew Jim watched over all. But on Wednesday, Renata went over to the screen in the upper cafe and did a quick check of the next few days. When she saw the "Mouse-Trap Day for Kids" on the screen for the next day, she chuckled and made a call to Rand. "You gotta be here at 1 tomorrow baby," she cooed into the phone. "Ah Ren, I'm pretty booked," he said. "I'll be yummy tonight if you do" she said laughing. "You are always yummy," he said. "I'll dance to Mysterious ways if you come." "Done. Gotta go." She smiled. "Love that man," she said to herself and was pleased. At 1 p.m. that Thursday afternoon those who had any idea all tried to find a good seat. Jim had to try and officiate and he wore a funny hat that Matisse had made for him and he stood up on the top of the hill with Jeremy, Lucille, Carver, Alice and a small group of parents and kids. On a wide table there was a large bucket filled with crochet balls and all around the table there were perhaps a good eighteen mallets. Maugham opted out of the fiasco and took up residence on the deck with Simon, Jacob, Martine and Manfred. Below them, looking out the windows were Roo, Renata, Rand, Ted, and probably 20 customers who were not regulars. The Pacific Sun had sent a reporter and a photographer. Around the grounds, and strategically placed, were Jonathan, Tim, Juan and Ian had skipped some classes to be there. Jim gave a forgettable introduction and thanked Alice, Jeremy, Lucille, and Carver as well as the other kids.. "Who's first?" he then asked. "I believe Lucille is first," Carver said and he handed her a blue striped ball.
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She laid it on the small carpet and gave it a big whack and it sloped down the first walkway at the top of the hill and down into a culvert...down a tube and dropped out on another long slope that cut aginst the grain the other way. Then it lodged in the corner of the next turn. Everyone cheered as Lucille made mark on her card. Carver followed with a similar hit and his shot disloged Lucille's which ran down the hill, dropped off a small cliff into a trough and rolled into the rain gutter on the roof of the Azotus Caf proper. They could see it run and skip a bit then they heard a clunk as it fell into a basket. Carver's orange striped ball followed in similar fashion. After another eleven kids had hit similar shots the basket was full and had weighted down enough to activate a pulley which brought up a wire basket full of juice pouches out of a water drum. When the kids had taken these Alice let go of the basket and the basket full of crochet balls fell and collapsed to the ground and 13 crochets balls started falling, bouncing and running off down the long path toward the corkscrew. Three of them made it all the way to the sloping cement drainage ditches and swished down into an area boxed off. Everyone else had to take their turns hitting again. It was a sunny day and the clouds overhead were white and kind. The air was cool and as Jim looked down at the scene he felt happy for a brief moment until his mind returned to what he had to say to Maugham that evening. From the landing just up from the Gallery, the kids had to hit up hill from a divided green carpet and bounce their ball off the planter at an angle so it would be on the other side of the dividing wall that had been set down. Once on that side the ball could do one of two things. If you hit it at a lucky angle (there was really no skill involved at any point except the end) your ball might be caught in the old warped rain gutter and disappear into the side of the building, only to re-appear God-only knew where. Or, if you missed that, your ball would be corralled into a sloping collection station and pop through the wall (through an old dryer exhaust hole in what was now the Gallery) into the Gallery proper. In either event what happened next was far too much for Hans who had never been properly clued into what was about to happen all around him. The kids started hitting and running down the hill. At least five of the balls made it into the curved ramp leading into the building, which in turn dropped them into the old duct, which deposited four of them into the long ramp that went out the window. As this happened six other balls flooded into the Gallery as Hans shrieked and jumped up on top of his desk and began to scream things in German.
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None of the kids knew German, so no harm was done, not even when Hans heard the first three crochet balls rumble loudly passed his head in the long ramp and spit out the window on the far end. The fourth ball took a bad skip and jumped the railing and sailed throught the upper window just to the right of the open one with a crash. Outside, Alice put her hands to her mouth and tried to muffle a large laugh. Then, being meticulous and detail-oriented, she wondered about the last ball. She went over to the wall where the initial ramp entered and gave it a quick shove. By this time Hans had moved to the window and simply sighed as the children ran around hitting their balls around the room and marking their score cards. He leaned a bit on the ramp and just then the last ball came shooting through and he dropped down as it smashed through the lower window. Hans shrieked again and fled to the darkroom where he turned off the safelights and hoped the end of the world would soon be over.
Chapter Twenty Seven

The game continued down the estate and Jim heard many shrieks of laughter but missed Han's of terror. When everyone was down the hill a bit, his attention became diverted and he entered the Gallery. He looked at the "Swensons" on the wall and smiled. In the darkroom he turned on the safelights and Hans jumped. "Hans! What are you doing?" "Oh James, it was awful" he said. "Look Hans...no worries," he said. "Take the rest of the day off with pay. I'll have Martine sign off on it, and I'll have Jonathan clean up in here." "Oh dats good," Hans said. "My nerves are utterly shots." At that moment one of the kids had run back up the hill to try his earlier shot again. As the ball rolled through the Gallery and clipped a remaining piece of glass, Hans fled the building leaving Jim alone. Jim shut the doors and locked them then went through the darkroom and opened the right hand door to Silo 1. Down the stairs he went and was gone for many hours. Carver was really pleased not only by his overall design and many features that had actually worked, he really liked the "rampart drop" which he had figured out. The ball would go down the main walk and slope into a collector, then out a tube that was filled with felt so it slowed the ball down to a crawl. He and Lucille had come up with that and they worked it out until it worked.
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The ball would hit the felt then drop about twenty feet and hit a planter box affixed to the side of the rampart. It had long since been abandoned because it was to hard to water and was just eccentric. They had asked Juan to cut a hole on the far end of the old planter that was positioned just above the door of the Azotus Theater. Then they requested a new planter be fastened over that door and a pipe be plugged into the far end which would continue the game. It was probably the most ambitious aspect of the project. But it worked four out of eleven times. The other balls skipped off the wall, came out too fast and otherwise ended up "in the rough". High above Maugham laughed watching the scene below and he put his arm around Martine and give her a pull-in side hug. Templar seemed very amused, and Manfred kept leaping about clapping his hands and saying "Oh what a wonderfulness is this!!!" Sex looked after her kids and was pretty impressed by her daughter. Little Antoine was having fun and she did not notice Jacob once again eyeing her. But at one point she looked up at the Deck and smiled at Simon who waved gently. By 1:45 they were at the far end of the course where they could remove strokes by hitting through various wickets that were very hard and down a steep cement hill. It was close, and the contest was won by a 13 year-old named Scott who hit an unbelievable shot 25 feet down the hill through the most difficult wicket, subtracting four from his score and making him winner. Afterward all the kids and parents went to the Batcave were they stood and watched highlights that had been taken by Jonathan on a Mini-DV cam. Of course it included his running commentary. The lecture on Cubism was cancelled and Martine pasted a signed saying so and had Andy update the site online. Jim showed up later and bought a copy of Gene Black's chapbook and thanked him for coming. On the side he asked him to review a paper he was preparing for publication and Black grunted his willingness to have a look. Jim was tired but took twenty minutes alone to sit quietly, cry a bit and have two glasses of wine before showering (more of a rinse) and heading to the Cafe for the later shift. At 3 p.m. Maugham had stopped into the upper Cafe and had told Martine that he had something for her to look at and would she come up for a few. Renata was still there and Rand was hanging. Mostly the place had emptied after the game.
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Martine walked upstairs and when she came in, Maugham shut the door behind her and kissed her hard. She moaned under him and took the kiss both softer and deeper. He managed to lock the door just before she pulled him past the large curtains, behind and to the bed. "Huh huh huh-uhhhh," she ached and panted a few minutes later, then became quieter biting her lip, again and again her nostrils flaring wildly. "oh god..." she let out. "Huh huh huh...oh god..." Four levels below, in the quiet earth of Silo 1 Jim stopped biting his lip and took a swig of hard cider. The plan was risky but it seemed necessary. He picked up the phone and dialed Helen's number through a secure line. She answered. He was not suprised. "Helen, it's Jim," he said. "About time" she replied. Then laughed and said "I thought I told you to never call me here." "Yes, true enough" Jim said. Then you sent me 13 emails telling me goodbye, each one with your phone number at the end." "What's your point?" "Let's meet for a drink. Are you up for that?" "I told you James," she said slowly. "we are done." "Yes, I know that and understand. It's a problem with Azotus and I need you advice...that's all." There was silence on the phone. "What time and where?" He gave her directions and set the time for 11:00. "Why so late James?" she purred. "They need me till late...but I had a nap. I'll be fine." "Seeya then." click. He was, frankly, exhausted. After he hung up he hit the second button on his diver's watch, which woke him up 12 minutes later in time to go upstairs and see Gene at the end of his signing.
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At 8:10 Maugham came through the big double doors and Jim asked him to lock the doors behind him. He had been looking at a Swenson painting that he had bought in 1991. It was called "Bitterness" and was unlike all the Swenson's he had bought later which had a playfulness that he loved. No this one was different. It had a large shark coming up from below through water and an awkward pyramid and a "Baby Rod", even though Swenson was 50, flying through the air naked and vulnerable. There was also a target or bullseye on the painting. For a Swenson, it was dark. "What do you think of this Maug?" "It's never been one of my favorites," he said. I've always liked Bob the Dog. "Well it's a fitting one for what we are up against," he said. "I think." "Is this like dream interpretation Jim?" "Well, if so, where are you and where am I in the painting?" "You are that guy in the sky," Maugham said. "Whoever this woman is, she is the shark..." "...and ...hmnnn. oh great..." "I always said you were a quick study. You want a drink?" "Sure...uh where we gonna get that here?" Follow me. As they walked toward the darkroom Maugham was confused. "How long you known me Maug?" Jim asked. ""Um...seems like forever Jim," he laughed. "Well you dont know everything about me." "I know that," Maugham said. "when it comes to you I don't like to pry...dont need to."
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"Fair enough," Jim said. "But you have wondered." "Yeah. Sure. I'm not stupid. I just figured you'ld tell me when and if you wanted to." By that time they were at the three doors. "You got drinks in storage?" Maugham scoffed. "Oh I got more than that old friend. Come on down and I'll show you."
Chapter Twenty Eight

Maugham was more than shocked when he saw the staircase leading down and he looked bewildered as he passed the grey panels on the left which seemed to hum. "Dude, you got some serious James Bondage stuff around here." Jim laughed. "Yeah. welcome to my underground LAIR" he tried to say like Dr. Evil,. but really only Jonathan could do it right. At the bottom of the stairs He hit the lighted panel and the room lit up. It was a small room. that was nearly empty. There were no chairs or any furniture at all. The left wall was where the light came from through white panels inlayed with dark bamboo. The ceiling was about 20 feet high. He noticed the floor was hardwood with inlays. "Have a seat Maug" Jim said and he went over to a panel on the far wall and opened a door and pulled out a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and a couple glasses. "This is a little weird Jim," Maugham said. "Maybe it is. I just need a place to be alone and have space Maug. Did you know I have a problem being around people?" "Ha! You!? Don't fuck with me Sonny Jim," Maugham laughing. "No I am serious," Jim said. "Do you remember the summer of 89 not long after we met?" "Yeah sure. You were in Atlanta most of the time, actually till Christmas because I watched your house." "I wasn't in Atlanta Maug. I had a breakdown and when I recovered I went to a monastery in Inverness for three months to work things out."
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Jim opened the bottle and poured two glasses and offered one to his friend who had stood up. "I promise you Maug, I will tell you the whole story, but tonight is not the night. Tonight I have to tell you a different story and I have an assignment for you when I am done, so don't drink too much. I need you to leave in about an hour." "Okay Jim. Whatever you say...I just..." "I am sorry" Jim said as he turned around and there were tears in his eyes. "I will explain later why it has taken me so long to tell you...or let you in...or whatever. But till then, is my apology enough?" Tears went down Jim's face and Maugham was stymied. He put the glass down and walked over and hugged Jim. Then he looked him in the eyes and said "you are my family Jim. I'd take a bullet for you any day. It's fine." Jim turned and wiped his face and took a swig of a fine Bordeaux then settled on the floor. and began to tell Maugham a story. "I think the woman in question is named Helen," he said firmly. "Funny, doesn't look like Troy...but this could be a fine war-room." "Funny guy." "Funny man." "Anyway," Jim said sipping his wine, then taking a gulp. "I made a mistake." "Yah think so?" Maug interrupted. "Yah...I did. And I think she's the one been dogging me." "Any other candidates?" "It's not like I get out that often." "Okay," Maugham said. "Tell me the story." "Well it was the one night of unusual passion I told you about," Jim said. "Then she invited me to come over to her place for dinner the next week." "You never mentioned that," Maugham said.
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"No. It didn't mean anything until now. But when I got there it was weird. Strongly gated community, guards at the front gate...had to call in. When I found the place there was another patrol guy nearby." "And this is where?" "Tiburon," Jim said. "And you are going there tonight if you agree." "Great, Perfect," Maugham said with a smirk. "When I got there I expected maybe a glass of wine and some talk. That happened, but she had really decked the house out fully. It smelled like a trap." "And you can smell such things?" Maugham asked smiling. "Smartass. Yeah...even me. Anyway, fire roaring, catered dinner delivered from Gin-Wah...the works and wine out on the deck overlooking her private beach." "Private beach?" "Yes, that is how you are going to get in," said Jim. "I'm getting in?" "Yes. I am meeting her at Sam's in a few hours and you are gonna, er...hmnnn. well I need you to..." "Okay, okay," sighed Maugham. "Fine." Jim walked over to a black panel on the Northern wall and hit a switch. The door hissed open and Jim pulled it back and selected a gun for Maugham. "You are a fucking pacifist!" Maug said. "Yeah, but you're not."
Chapter Twenty Nine

Jim invited Maugham to grab the bottle and his glass and follow him up to Silo 2. When they hit the top of the stairs and Jim turned it off and shut the door, Maugham asked "So what's behind door number two, a submarine?" "No Maug, but you are gonna need some equipment." Once inside Maugham was once again dumbfounded at the size of the library. "Do you ever
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"Sure...now come over and look at these maps." When Maugham came over to the drafting table he saw a detailed map of the gated community. "All I need you to do is check her computer and see if she is the one sending the messages. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes inside, so I figure 40 to 50 minutes total. She lives alone, has a cat and she'll be with me in San Rafael." "Okay, so I assume you want me to come in the beach side. How do I do that?" "See this spot here on Beach in Belvedere?" "Sure." "Well her place is directly across this channel ...right here. There are two big palm trees on each side of the property so you cannot miss it, even in the dark." "So am I supposed to swim across in frigid waters?" "No, Manfred has already racked up the Jeep and he will take you out to Beach street." "Manfred is in on this!!? Are you nuts!?" "Just bringing the Jeep and Dagger around for you." Maugham rolled his eyes and poured more wine. "Will you tell Martine goodbye for me and that I loved her." "Really Maug? Love?" "Yeah sheesh. I dunno how it happened but somehow she managed to wrap her heart around mine." "Good," Jim said. "Now here's the rest of the plan." At 10:30 Jim and Maugham went down to the parking lot where Manfred was waiting. "Hello Sahib! All is as all is planned for youus!" Maugham snarled at Manfred and got in the Jeep. Jim got in the Mustang and drove off to meet Helen. On the way Manfred struck up a conversation.
Azotusland "Soos we are going kayaking, no?"
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"No Manfred. I am going kayaking. You are going to wait at the Jeep until I get back from my exercise." "This reminds me of an episode of As the Stomach Turns." "It's really called that?" "No, Sahib calls it that, then laughs for some reason." "Nicolai was a Russian spy and, wells I thought him a very bad mans," Manfred said. "But really, I miss the show for two weeks and when I came back he was still in the same room! So how much badness can happen?" "I dunno Manfred." "Well not much badness!" "Okay...hey I'd just like some quiet okay?" "Okay Mr. Maugham," Manfred said then he slapped a Mermen CD into the player and cranked the sound. "Oh brother." At just that time Jim pulled up into the parking lot of Sam's and saw Helen in the parking lot. She seemed nervous and terse, but then she had been so that last night when who she really was flashed with anger. Jim did not want a repeat and he knew Maugham would need at least 40 minutes. It was a calculated risk. "Hi Helen," he said approaching, and he kissed her on the cheek. "Are you hungry?" "No," she said flatly, "But you can buy me a drink." Inside they found a table by the back and ordered two Cosmopolitans. Jim also ordered the roasted garlic brie with toast and they settled in for a chat. "I need your help with the Azotus Helen, if you are willing," he said. She perked up and took note of the way Jim hair had silvered at the temples. She liked gray-haired men and she had plans for Jim. Twenty minutes away Manfred and Maugham were unracking the Dagger "Crazy 88" a dark red mean little Kayak built for speed and endurance. It could take a major wave if need-be but as Maugham looked out over the channel it was calm. No, if anything he would have to go slow and quiet.
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"You look good in black," Manfred said. "And you look good inside the Jeep. Maugham hissed. And use the headphones." Maugham grabbed the long paddle and the Dagger and hiked down to the beach. Wearing a 5-4-3 wetsuit and scuba boots he was quite warm as he waded in and slogged into the boat and headed out. He left the gun under the passenger seat of the Jeep. He was sure he wouldn't need it. "Care to let me choose the next round?" Jim asked. "That would be fine." "Waiter, two camprioskas please," Jim said calmly He asked her about considering a series in the Library on motivational speakers and personal coaching and she seemed intrigued. I few minutes later the waiter brought their drinks. She took a sip and then said "Really Jim!" "No Helen give it time to settle...you'll like it's earthiness on the far end." She took another sip and relaxed. "I have been working on an extended series and it looks like this..." Maugham reached the far shore between the two Palms in a little over ten minutes and pulled the Dagger up on the beach. From there he quickly hiked up the hill, the two staircases and made it to the back door. The cat was waiting and brushed up against him as he worked the lock. He left his rubber boots outside and was pretty much dry. The cat ran into the kitchen which was lighted. Everything else was dark. Maugham made his way past the bedroom and into the back study. He hoped to god that the computer was in sleep mode. It was. Hitting the return key it stirred and he went off to look for the cat to put it out. When he got back and sat down he opened every mail program. Outlook, Outlook Express...and he checked every possible yahoo, MSN, G-Mail, etc...sites and used the automatic log-in feature to scan for files. He knew there was a chance she would know someone had accessed these, but still tried to erase histories and other links that he had to use.
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He found a folder of profiles...all men, but they seemed harmless. Jim's was listed but with no red flags. The last 11 emails to anyone in that file were to a man named Terrell. Maugham opened and read the sent messages. She was a bitch, but obviously her obsession was now with Terrell. The emails were ugly, but not threatening. Her last email to Jim was in the drafts folder from 3 months earlier. Helen was not Rnonymous. That was clear. Maugham did some clean up and was about to leave when he heard the front lock of the door click and he dove under the bed.
Chapter Thirty
The door closed and Maugham heard footsteps down the hall. He was arched like a cat under the bed, his adrenaline pumping extra doses. "Helllooooo?" came the East Indian voice down the hall. Maugham's face buried itself in the carpet and he slid out from under the bed. "Mister Maugham how are yooos? Why is there black stuff on your faces?" "Do you mind telling me what the fuck you are doing here Manfred?!" "You left this most magnificent of weapons in the Jeep and I thought you might need it for your nights of beings Maughams P.I." With that Maugham's tall head did do the Magnum head clunk of despair. "How the hell did you get here and get in?" "I am the Pizza man!!" Manfred declared. "Oh indeed by jove there is a wonderfulness to Pizzas and I had three of them in the back. The guard is eating an Archimedes Delight even nows." "And?" "And you left the directions on the seat for me to pick yous up." "I was supposed to come back and then we rack up and come home." "But you are not in that great a shape!"
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"Okay Manfred," Maugham sighed. "Look...get back out that door and into the Jeep and meet me back at the beach in Belvedere." "What am I to do with this pie?" Maugham looked left as if to say to God "See what I have to deal with?" "TAKE it with youus. And put that gun under the seat where I left it!" With that Manfred's countenance fell and he walked away slowly out the door with the last pizza. Maugham put the cat out again (it had made it's way in with Manfred somehow) and locked the door and wiped everything down. The condo reeked of anchoives. Out the back door and down the strairs he suddenly saw a young couple in an embrace on the beach below, so he crouched in the shadows and waited.
Chapter Thirty One

Jim had done a good job. Unlike so many adventures where split second timing was needed and there was some suspense, Helen had settled in and was on her third drink. The brie on toast with garlic and preserves was very good and they were actually having a good time. They ordered another plate and more drinks and Jim laughed as Helen told him about her last seminar in Mendocino. It was ten minutes after the agreed time with Maug by his watch so he just settled in and decided to flirt a bit. At that time Maugham was stymied. The young couple on the beach had set down a blanket and had disappeared somewhat under it. Maugham grinned at one point. "I know that move" he thought. Then he frowned with the blanket came back and he saw that it was she who had done it. "Damn...I need to get home." He thought about Martine. He alabaster skin and dark eyebrows and how her hair fell heavy, dark and silky down her back. She felt like home and he loved to hear her hot breath in his ear as he drove her. She had the most amazing eyes. He was smitten. It made him feel, well, vulnerable in a new way. When the girl made her next move he bolted to the tree line which was less well-lighted up and he waited. "Geez.." he thought to himself as she rose up over the boy and took her shirt off with nothing underneath. He groaned loudly and she came down on his mouth with abandon...then trailed her tongue down his torso and started to pull open his jeans.
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Maugham thought about it. How did a young girl this age know exactly what to do? She pulled him out and mouthed him slow and smooth for about a minute in the lightly lit beach. The boy shuddered like a man-boy possessed. Maugham gave him a minute at best. 20 seconds later he exploded, as did Maugham. streaking for the water, scooping up the paddle not fifteen feet from their heads and pushed the Dagger into the water and disappeared into the light eddy.
Jim was laughing and he settled up at the bar and left a nice tip for Janice and he and Helen hit the parking lot. "You know," she said. "You could come back to my place and I'll give you a back-rub." He thought about Maugham at her computer and it sobered him a bit. "Another night Helen," he said. "But this has been great. And I will pencil you in for the Fall when I get back. I love your idea." She gave him a hug and a wanton kiss. And he smiled and simply said "thank you...I owe you one." She looked puzzled but she let him get her to her BMW and then they both left.
Maugham landed the Dagger but there was no Manfred or Jeep to be seen. He stashed the Dagger in some deep bushes, stripped down to near nothing and opened his sling pack and extracted a cell phone, a long-sleeved shirt and some light sweats and made the call. Jim was on his way home when it came. "Come get my ass" Maugham said angry. "Where are you."
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"Beach" "Manfred?" "Who the fuck knows bro." "Okay..I'll be there in ten." Jim put a call into to Manfred but there was no answer. "What you find?" "Nothing. You? "Same." The black Mustang brooded down 101 then turned down the road to Tiburon and Belvedere. Jim was pretty happy, Maugham was wet but warmed by the dark suit, Manfred was who knows where. The Azotus Caf was empty, silent and dark, at least for another 6 hours.
Chapter Thirty Two

Manfred had been arrested 20 minutes later leaving Helen's house and still on the grounds of the gated community. The gun had gone off and blew out the left rear tire of the Jeep. As Manfred feverishly tried to patch the hole with some gum he had in his mouth the private patrol came by and picked him up. When asked what had happened he simply shrugged and said "Dance of Shiva! Maugham is not here." The renta-cop just shook his head and asked if he could have a slice of pizza on the way in. Two hours later Manfred was in a lineup at the Marin police department. On the way in Manfred had exclaimed that the building looked like "The space ship from 2001" and they put him under extra guard. In the lineup, which was about a Quickie-mart robbery some hours earlier, the one witness said "See that guy who looks like Ben Kingsley?" "Yeah" said the detective. "It's the guy next to him on his right." After that Manfred used his shrewdness.
Azotusland "I wish to declare Immunity!"
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"Immunity from what?" the officer asked. "Immunity from deficiency and indecency!" Manfred said. "Er, no." "I declare sovereignty!" "Er, no. Try again," the guard sighed. "Dysfunctionality!" Manfred said stomping his feet. "Yes, by all means," said the guard. "As well as insanity." "I will now become a Hunger Strike!" Manfred declared. "Like the great Ghandi-Gee!" One guard looked at the other and they discussed the how the Giants were holding up without Posey. "An eye for an eye..." Manfred pronounced, "seems like a fair trades!" And then they simply took him away to the drunk tank.
When they got back near 1:30 a.m. both Jim and Maugham were exhausted. It was mostly silent on the way back as both had had a day neither expected. Jim just looked over at Maug at one point and said "I love you Maug." "I love you too Jim. let's hope that's enough."
Many hours before Jacob had run a very full Azotus Movie Night in the Theater. It was packed to capacity with extra chairs brought in and Jacob did a great job of leading the discussion after the viewing of Shawshank. They talked about the penal system and injustice and how often those who had joined religious and political power lorded it over those who simply had soul. One local Episcopal minister named Rick brought up the fact that in the Azotus backyard, or "neighborhood" as he put it, we put people to death. "We kill our neighbors," he said and there was much discussion about this pro and con.
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At the end, around eleven, Jacob thanked everyone and slumped back into a chair and closed his eyes. Ked Woman came in and sat next to him. "This isn't gonna work for me," she said flatly. "I know," he sighed. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and said goodbye. He slept in the chair all night.
Chapter Thirty Three

In the middle of that small night, Jim had a disturbing dream. It started like a typical "I have to pee" dream where Jim would be somewhere unknown and he had to relieve himself and he would end up finding some odd place and usually the urinal did not work for some reason. In almost all cases Jim would wake up and realize that he really had to go....bad. Occasionally he could even wake himself while in the dream because he knew what it meant, but most of the time he would find some sink, or bathtub...or someplace not quite right to pee in his dream. But this was a darker dream and different than any other. In this, after he found the tub he began to pee and he saw the water turn yellow, then droplets of red blood began to hit the waters as he looked down. At first he was a little stunned and thought he was hallucinating as this had never happened before. But it was happening, only the blood was not coming from, well, where he expected at all. In fact, as Jim looked up at the bathroom walls spats of blood where shooting out and hitting the walls all in front of him. With each stuttered spat the blood would run red down the tiles until Jim closed up and looked down at his own chest. It was matted with blood as if he had been shot with a shotgun. He felt nothing, no pain whatsoever. And he felt no panic, just curiosity as he grabbed the shower nozel off the hook and sprayed off his chest. After he did he could see where the blood was coming from...small wounds from around his chest where the blood easily flowed out. Then he woke up. It was 4:45 in the morning and he was shaken and disturbed. He went into the small bathroom of the bunkhouse and his nose started to bleed. He stopped it up and felt it trickle down the back of his throat. This was not starting out to be one of his favorite days. Jim laid down on the bed and cursed himself for judging Helen so. It didn't matter that she was
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weird and terse. He had been wrong and sent Maugham on a dangerous mission that could have ended badly. And where was Manfred and why had he not called? He didn't really worry about Manfred so much as just blame himself for a ridiculous night. Manfred would always rise to the occasion....he was impervious to all manner of harm, bullet-proof really in his semi-guileless way. Which was true for at that moment an officer was unlocking the door to the drunk tank only to find seven drunks in various incapacitated forms of the lotus on the cement floor around Manfred who was telling them stories about his youth in Salamanca and Madrid. "Let's go Manfred!" the officer smiled. "Oh Officer Zunabi! What a joy of joy's to be seeing you again!!"
Jim threw on a thick sweater and some old jeans and slipped on his Cole Haan's and headed down to sit in Silo 2. Fortunately, He had made arrangements the day before for Ward to cover him in the morning so he knew he would have quiet time alone. He was exhausted but his brain would not stop whirring and, quite frankly, he did not wish to sleep again soon if it entailed such dreams. Ten minutes later he was sitting on the floor of Silo 2. The gas lights illuminated the large room and he had pointed at HAL and chosen Albinoni's Adagio. To his left he had chosen three books to read, although he was not quite sure that would happen. The first was The Precarious Vision by Peter Berger; the second Christ the Center by Dietrich Bonhoeffer; and the third was Thich Nyat Hanh's Living Buddha, Living Christ. The day before he had gotten an email from his friend Spence in Maine who had questioned him not unlike Maugham had done the week before. As he sat in what was literally the center of the mountain and complex he was perplexed and sad. What did the dream mean? He sat listening to the way the Adagio rose and fell like the Pacific and he began to lay out, in his head, all the various pieces of an elaborate puzzle. He let the contradictions stay as they were and kept unraveling and then laying down new aspects and angles of approach.
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After an hour or so, he stood up and went to the fridge and popped a Hornsby and went over to the drafting table and pulled out a fresh sheet. Then he took out three 2 by 3 foot sheets that had been worked on and pinned each one in place on the wall so they matched up. He clicked on a retractible light from the wall and point it down on the large diagram that was now two foot by nine and started to go over it again. It didn't work. It was brilliant in places and made important connections that he had not seen before, but it was utterly flawed given its intended purpose. Jim sat down on the floor again and took another swig. It tasted good, but he knew it was bad to drink in the morning. So he took another swig and pointed the remote at HAL and switched to Bach. What had Spence asked? "Why is it so important to you that people listen to each other and express tolerance?" Jim had never really thought about it as he felt it was self-evident. But if you looked at the world it wasn't. The world was filled with intolerance, fear, anger, prejudice and a seemingly endless amount of division. Jim felt the judgment of humanity made any judgment to come by God seem proportional and almost reasonable. "We are not more merciful than God," he said to himself aloud.
Manfred had been taken back to the Jeep by two officers who actually seemed to enjoy his company. When they got there, one of the officers actually changed the tire for him while Manfred told them what had happened to Jim in the infamous Tahoe-Condo incident. "He actually went back in?" the one officer laughed. "Oh yes, indeed by jove he did!" And both of them just howled with laughter.
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Jim was the sort of man who was too smart for his own good at times. He often missed the obvious. So it was not until two ciders in at around 8 a.m. that he realized what the dream meant. He had a broken heart. It washed over him and he looked up through tears at the chart on the wall and knew that he was just lost. He got up and took them down and with no malice or bitterness at all he simply folded them up and put them in the trash. Then he sat down at his iBook and started to type out his response to Maugham from the week before all over again...only this time, less academic.
Chapter Thirty Four

Jeremy had Sundays off but still liked hanging around the cafe, saying hi to kids who came in with their parents and flirting where and when he wished. That morning it was overcast and people hurried upstairs and into the Caf, The Doghouse and even the Library was full. Though it was dark outside it was plenty warm and bright inside for and Renata and Roo had lighted large candles on many of the tables. Sinead O Conner was playing in the background upstairs and Roo had chosen Dead Can Dance for The Doghouse. Hans took free samples of a new banana nut bread around and most the regulars were enjoying themselves. Rand was in the corner reading Tolstoy and flirting every now and then at his beautiful red-locked wife. Sex had a morning off with no kids and was enjoying the Times. Simon was not far away talking it up with Whispah who was soaking in every bit of attention. Ian had just come in from an early church service and took up helping behind the bar. Cara was having a nice conversation with Jacob who was trying not to notice Ked Woman. Most everyone was happy except Ted. Ted was rarely happy unless he was arguing with someone, preferably Jim, but Jim was strangely absent that morning. So Ted sat by himself and worked away at editing a long paper he had written on propositional truth. He didn't like Jim. In fact it was a bit of a mission of his to try and embarrass Jim whenever he could. He saw him as a Communist-Athiest-Liberal-Sentimentalist with no moral values or compass. He found Jim tolerance of other points of view intolerable and wrong even though it had, on more than one occasion, enabled him to speak freely in room where he would not normally be so respected. To his credit, Ted did hang out with "Unbelievers", Pagans, Astrologers, and even Wiccans, but he did not like them....except Whispah.
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Whispah was a self-proclaimed Buddhist and she was also hot. There was no way around it. She exuded an animal sexuality that could have been used for evil if it was not for the fact that she was just not very bright. Exuberant and playful? Yes, but not very bright and certainly not wise. Ted often fantasized about her then felt terribly conflicted after pleasing himself with her images being driven in his mind. He hunkered down to work harder on his paper, which he planned to release just after he saw that Jim had posted his promised paper. He knew exactly where the Pinko-Commie-Fag was headed and by the love of Christ he was gonna trounce and humble the man. Just then Jeremy walked by and said , "oh Hi Ted...how are you?" "Great...how's a life of unknowing?" "Whatever," Jeremy said and went over to sit with Simon and Whispah.
"Well young Jeremy!" Simon exclaimed with a warm smile. And he stood up and bid Jeremy good welcome. Whispah looked Jeremy over and smiled. Templar almost laughed and said to Whispah "Why my dear, aren't we fickle?" She laughed and Jeremy smiled and they began to trade stories from the week. Sex came by the table after a few minutes and told Jeremy that she had posted pictures from the great Mouse-Trap debacle on her personal Blog. He asked that she alert Jim because he would certainly want to see them. Alice sat in the corner with her friend Fred and told him about her last spiritual retreat in Oregon. One room over Maugham was snoring loudly. One wall over Manfred crawled into bed and dreamed of the yellow mustard fields of Salamanca and of his mother's sweet face.
Jim paced around the room. He had hit a major block. Jesus taught love and tolerance but also was on a mission to unfold his own unique identity...one which would be offensive to many. He seemed to hug every extreme at once. It was unnerving to say the least.
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Jim knew that Maugham knew where he shook out ultimately. He had made that clear the other night by grossly overstating it in a way that he knew was wrong. Jim laughed. He loved Maugham. He often wished that he was Maug, because Maugham was not troubled like he was. Maugham was smart but if you caught him in a bad chain of thought, he'd just laugh and say.."Okay...forget all that! I was just kidding!" He admired his swagger while Jim always felt like Jacob must have felt after wrestling the angel. What if the whole paradigm of power was a mistake? He thought of Nietzsche and how unnerved he had been by the Christ. Yes, he had named it..."transvaluation" and it had literally freaked Nietzsche out. They had found the poor bastard in the snow and in his coat was sown little bits of paper that said "The Crucified One" over and over again. This from the "Superman". But what was the alternative? Fundamentalist Christians were not despised because of Jesus. It was because they were mean, judgmental, coercive, crass and often plain ignorant. He remembered Martine's words in one discussion in the library on different ways of faith. She had simply slapped open her cell phone, raised her hand and when called on said "Jesus calling...He wants his name back!" The whole room had busted up at that and even Ted was mildly amused, for about five seconds. Jim himself was tolerant of just about anything except, ironically, intolerance. He also felt muddy thinking was a mistake and felt much of 20th century philosophy was simply a solipsistic racetrack with fresh race horses brought in and new wagers laid down every few years. Only a few people knew Jim's past. He kept it guarded mostly because he hated the baggage that people would then attach to him. So he just tried to be himself and live in active love. He clung to the Dalai Lama's definition that "kindness is my religion". But he had been a minister, ordained and ridiculously well-educated. Down in the belly of Silo 2 was his old library, the one that no one saw because they simply would not understand and it was too long and painful a story. The Azotus Caf library was just once piece of the overall collection. It was a gift to others, and besides, Jim had read them all and knew them from his late teens and twenties. When his high school friends were fixing Camaros and chasing girls, Jim was reading Athanasius and Ireneaus and learning to translate Greek. Few suspected because he was so tall, lean and muscular then. He looked every bit the jock. His grades in school were awful and he feigned ignorance on most all topics and kept pretty quiet all the way through. In college he had gotten a dual degree in Anthropology and Sociology but spent only a few hours a week in class or doing homework. His real draw was theology, hermeneutics and apologetics.
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He was going to understand the whole world, write great books himself, and realize the dream of creating a "unified science of man". And he was going to have it all...God, a great woman, smart friends - his vision was endless. He sat down and hit he refresh button on the keyboard and scrolled down to a folder and clicked it open, then scanned down and read his own poem: But not disdain For her alone The scorn within His hollow hull A lonely derision Erosion division Quiet loss Solid pain Not his first embargo To be bore as cargo Now as past Hard bow and stern Lost fore and aft Broke and hollow Born of sorrow His ship still sails And we sadly Watch him down Like Jonah To the whale. Things had started so wonderfully only to go horribly off course and the trials that came like a fierce storm had drowned him out and now, years later he found himself in the belly of his own whale. Most everyone above him (except Ted) was either sleeping or enjoying the day. He sighed and got back to work.
Chapter Thirty Five

Jim tried several responses to Spence, but each time he erased them or chucked them in the no man's land of drafts to never be seen again. Finally he just typed out the following and hit send:
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Spenceman, Good question. I dunno. Got something to do with faith, hope and love. Best, Jim It sounded lame, but it was all he had.
Jonathan was prowling the grounds when he saw some young boys admiring the Dagger on top of the Jeep in the lot. "Oh soooo whatha fook you lads look'nyat" he said in thick Scottish brough. "Isa Naw likeayah not seetha way to nor the gonna do the ..gagggaaaa...s'fookn GREEEAT! No?" They shoved off rather quick and Jonathan laughed, turned and then went back to being Irish, "Do weh get to kill tha English?" he asked the trees, but he did not reply or clap. Lorenna McKennit was playing in the upper cafe when Martine asked for a break and slipped into the Ops and laid down next to Maugham and nestled in his furry chest and played with his braids. He woke up after a few minutes and began to move lightly as silk against her and she warmed and he rolled on top of her suddenly and his hair flowed down over her face and she laughed until he was there and she gasped and snorted in his ear and he sought her, then grabbed her shoulders for more traction and she wanted to yell out but didn't...a silent cry. And he felt like love to her and she love's only goal.
Andy watered the plants in his room under the sunlamps and clipped off some dead ends, then he hit a mister and looked at the progress. Next he piled his laundry into a basket and set it by the door for Jonathan to pick up along with a list of needed supplies. He paid Jonathan $35 a week to do small errands and pick up necessary items. They got along well and Jonathan made Andy laugh with his impersonations of Hans, Manfred and especially Maugham "the pirate" or Maugham as a retarded "Braveheart."
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"Ughhhh gar...derahhh...da we're dee dressed alike dis?" Upstairs Roo had to intervene with Ted and a newcomer named Ernesto. Ted had wiggled into a conversation with his new prey seeing that the man had a clipboard for an initiative. He asked, innocent enough what it was for and then proceeded to take up a contrary position on anything the man said. If poor Ernesto had said Jesus rose from the dead on the third day, Ted would have found a way to make it not so. Roo came over and knelt down next to Ted and took his face in her hands and said "Do you know how handsome you are Teddy-boy?" Ted flustered and turned red and after she kissed him on the cheek, he got up and fled the building. Manfred showed up in the Upper cafe around 1:30 and Renata looked at him hard and said "Where the hell have you been?" "Police!" he exclaimed. "Police" she said flat and hard. "I shot the car and spent a night of abundance with many men of dis-reputation and not a few with vomit on their shoes!" Renata shook her head. "Well yer lucky it's a slow day because Martine has been gone on break way too long and you have been gone all day. Thank God for Rand." Rand was behind the counter and he gave her a wicked grin like "You'll be doing me later for this," and she smiled at him playful and fresh. "God he's a good man," she thought to herself. Renata had never thought she'd meet a man both deep and freakish enough and also damned handsome in an unusual poetic way. But he was and she adored him. In the library, Simon was on the Internet doing a web search on how to fix a persistent problem on his Volvo 1800 SE. Jonathan had offered to help him and lend tools if Simon would tell him a few stories from the old days and his many adventures. Jeremy was sitting on the deck with his shoes off in the new bits of sun that were finally peaking through. He was writing a memoir of girlfriend 9.5 and remembering how beautiful she was and how he had utterly botched the whole affair after a brilliant start.
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Jim had finally fell asleep on the floor. When he dreamed it was not of blood, or water but of his daughter Matisse skipping through a yellow field and laughing. When he woke up he made a quick call to Sabine and asked for her to make an exception and have Matisse come the next day for a day with him. He promised to take her to a museum so Sabine could justify it. Sabine agreed and the date was set. Jim shut down his iBook and locked up the Silo and walked through the darkroom and through the Gallery past Hans and said "You say a word and you're fired." Hans stammered, but Jim was gone out the doors.
Chapter Thirty Six

Jim had always found that his children had settled him...grounded him. He tried to return the favor by giving them what he had never gotten. He celebrated their freedom and independent spirits. In return the two of them, separated by 14 years, both had matured at an accelerated rate and were far more grounded and secure than Jim would ever be. To be fair, both of their mothers provided loving structure that was miles away from Azotus in all ways, yet respectful. When Sabine arrived with Matisse the next morning she had packed a lunch for them both and Matisse had her art box. Jim was touched. "You don't sound well," she said. "I'm not so very good," he whispered in her ear as he hugged her. She looked at him hard. "Matty, go on down to the Batcave for a minute, okay?" "You smell a bit like cider Jim." "Yep. No excuses. But just one." She knew he was not a liar.
Azotusland "That's it Jim?"
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"Yeah," he said. "I just want some quiet time with Matty." "What's eating you?' she asked. "Everything right now," he said. "Remember when that would happen?" She rolled her eyes and then laughed and smiled. "Oh Jim, you are such a puzzle. So sweet with everyone else and so contemptuous of me," she said slyly and he laughed. "Well take good care of her. I have my cell and I'll be up the hill till 6 p.m. then down to collect her." "Care to stay for dinner?" Jim asked. "I have a stew on all day...you know how good that is." "That would be nice, sure." Jim drove he and Matisse over the Golden Gate with the top down even though it was still foggy. Matisse was so happy and so "herself" that it amazed Jim. Was he just a freak, or was Matisse? They drove down 19th and through the tunnel and spilled into Golden Gate Park before finding a place near the new DeYoung. Jim put up the top and set the alarm and they skipped off hand in hand past the Japanese Tea Garden. Inside they went straight for the Van Goghs. Matisse loved Van Gogh, and of course, Matisse. Anything vibrant and interpretive. She was not a big fan of Rubens like her father and she crinkled up her nose and said he was "boring". Jim led her over to a rare Munch and she looked at it for awhile and said, "troubled and alone." They had tea in the cafe there and bought some small prints for her bedroom and then headed off to the tea garden next door. But then Jim had another idea because it was so cold. He loved the tea garden and had written one of his most regarded poems there about Ian when he was just 5. But today was just not the right day. "Pumpkin?" "Yes Papi!" she said in an exaggerated way. "Let's go to the park near home okay?" "Okay."
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Cara had been cornered by Ted for the second time in three days, but she was prepared this time. "Ted, your whole mode of being makes faith irrelevant," she said not unkindly. "Dear you need to let God love you and stop trying to earn it." "You don't understand!" Ted fumed, till he caught a glance from Roo. "Er, we are saved, justified by faith and faith alone" he pronounced. "Good," said a contented Cara. "How's your scone?" "My scone?" He shook his head. "Bad theology leads to bad conduct," he said triumphant. "Bad conduct leads to grace," she said. "Says who?" "The Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans," she said calmly. "And the Romans could have used some better theology, and so could you." Martine had taken in some of the conversation from a distance. She liked Cara a lot. There was something organic and very real about her. And she was the only person Martine had ever met who when she said "Have a good day" she actually seemed to be mindful and mean it. She was a breath of grace.
Chapter Thirty Seven

Delphia took son Liam by the hand and led him into the small park and she stood to watch him play. His bright wide eyes took everything in and he wanted to be watched. "Look momma look!" was a regular phrase but when she would sit and think off he was not offended as another child might be. She stood by the gate and enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the pined air. Jim had been lunching about 80 feet away with his daughter on a nice assortment of sliced apples, cheeses and a candy bar that Sabine had put in the box. He liked Sabine. It had not been a good marriage by any means, but he respected her and loved
Azotusland her in his own way.
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When they were done he walked over to the trash and got rid of stuff and Jim made for the play area with Matisse, who promptly ran off once inside. He took a look around. Nice. Then he saw Ked Woman standing not five feet from him and he gulped. She was wearing a grey tank covered by forest green overalls. Her willowy hair came down on her shoulders. He noted her over-alled shape which was tall and hormonally disturbing... and then he saw the Keds. She could have been 9 and the sort of girl he would have wanted, at nine himself, to chase him around the playground, each pretending they did not like each other. "Damn" he thought. Then he thought of her curled up with Jacob at the movie night and he shifted gears. "Hi," he said warmly. "I'm Jim." "Yes, you are" she smiled brightly. "I'm Delphia," she said and my son Liam is over there with your daughter Matisse." "Yer a quick study," Jim said. "Yer not exactly anonymous," she said in a sweet voice. "Would you like to sit down?" Jim asked. And they took up a bench.
Maugham was back at the IC running programs and then he hiked up to Ops and checked his email. Another "note": Hi Maug, Have a nice swim last night? With friends like you Jim is a deadman. Rnonymous
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This is "a confederacy of dunces" Maugham thought aloud. "And I am fast becoming head clown." He thought back to the last 24 hours and all its revelations. He had no idea that Jim had layers behind the layers that Maugham had always suspected. But at the same time he was touched. Yes, he would take a bullet for that man...maybe more than a few. He had no idea what to do with Jim secret world. He knew that only he was privy, or so he suspected. Still, well...oh well.
Jim and Delphia talked, laughed and just generally got on in a natural way. He liked her openess and also her depth. At one point Matisse came over and said "come come" and they went over near the swings. "This is Liam" Jim said to Matisse and she threw her head back, laughed and said "Oh yeah..well okay!" Then she and Liam laughed and began to swing. Jim got behind and pushed them both as Delphia watched and then he walked over and stood with her. They were chatting in a general sense when a Latino woman walked by and gave Jim a "look." He didn't notice until she mentioned it. "Been a long time since a man or woman looked at me that way," she said laughing at him quietly. "Oh I dunno," Jim said. "Jacob looked at you pretty good last I heard." She laughed and punched him in the arm. He was smitten just then and he realized that he wanted Ked Woman, Delphia, to look at him that way. He excused himself and went to sit on the bench and catch his breath. She thought him a bit odd, but she had heard he was eccentric. Still, she liked him.
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Chapter Thirty Eight

When Jim and Matisse got back they walked up the steps and sat at the stone table. They looked at her digital pictures and laughed and commented. Then she asked "Can I hear the poem Papi?" "What poem Pumpkin?" "The Tea Garden poem." He thought about it. Where was it now? There might be a chapbook in the Library, but not likely hed have to go online. "Um... wait here baby," he said and walked up the walkway and into the Gallery. Hans was showing an older couple some exquisite acrylic works by Lussier and a Swenson. "Hi Hans...not a word!" he said, then worked to the back and into Silo 2. He grabbed the iBook and launched upstairs realizing that the stew had been unattended for six hours and should be checked. "Hey baby," he said when he got back up. "Let's go upstairs and get ready for mom, okay?" "Sure Papi. Did you get the poem?" "yesm, I sure did, but it is very small." "oh good," she said and he looked up and just laughed. "Daughters."
Maugham was pissed and felt dissed. Obviously he had been followed last night but how and why and by whom? Pissed. He decided to do a bit of subtle payback for whoever it was watching and went online in Ops and downloaded pictures of various Rhinos and made up some posters for the grounds.
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They had ridiculous pictures of Rhinos in more than dubious positions (yet innocent to a child) and had the caption "Rhinonymous Crossing." Maugham felt better when he had posted them and then calibrated the few surveillance cameras they had on the grounds to cover them. As nighttime fell on Azotusland, Sabine took her chair across from Jim and she and Matisse reached out their hands and Jim nodded to Sabine to say grace. Then he dished up a wonderful lamb, garlic and yam stew as Sabine broke the bread and then she poured a nice glass of red wine she had brought. Jim looked over at Sabine, whose face was so often harsh and caught her eyes as if to say "thank you" then he asked about her day up at the seminary and what she had learned. Down in The Doghouse Martine was overseeing a young threesome of musicians and it was really there first public performance. A brother and sister combination with a third cousin, they fumbled a lot but moved into a good set after awhile and sold 27 CDs at the end of the night. Martine wondered about Maug. He seemed troubled and she was not sure why. She thought about the direct way he looked her in the eye as they made love and how he smiled. He was unique.
When the midget walked up to the steps and looked at each one of the signs Maugham had posted, painfully one by one, he cussed hard and heavy. He had a thought maybe she had overplayed her considerable hand.
Chapter Thirty Nine

When Jim had said goodbye and did the dishes he heavily slogged down to the Silo and plopped down on the floor. He unfolded a piece of paper he had printed out for himself and also Matisse and read the following poem: In the Tea Garden Your young life troubles you. Rumbling if not
Azotusland Tumbling A rock-sadness in your eyes, like cool green stones lying in the shallows, waiting to be drawn up the shores, Up the warm sands of laughter. We pocket these stones. warming them polishing them against our denim jeans preparing to drop them
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in the emerald waters of a Japanese tea garden. We watch them silently sway and descend Settling on a mountainside of coin. In the pools they lay down like the 12 stones of Jordan Watching you hold your teacup like a prayer. It took him back a long way. Then Jim heard an altogether new thing. An actual knock at the door of Silo 2. He figured who it was and opened the door. Maugham was standing there, his bright green eyes intense and he seemed in total warrior mode. "Hello brother,"Jim said. And led him down after he had locked the door. "I didn't know Jim what the protocol..." "I know," Jim said. "We never got to that. We'll work it out...like Alfred and Batman, only you
Azotusland are the Bat."
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"As impressive as your batcave is, it wasn't just for another peak that I came down here." "What's up?" "You remember that old British series you are so keen on...the subversive one?" "Yeah. So?" "You ever share that with anyone but me?" Maug asked. "Lot's of people. I even did a whole class on it back in the late 90s." Jim grabbed the remote and lighted up HAL and went through a couple menus on the big screen. The sky flashed dark, not unlike the night sky Maugham had seen on his way down earlier. Then a car came out of the distance and the drum beat came up and it was the opening of The Prisoner. "Isn't every episode about a certain aspect of human nature?" Maugham asked as Patrick McGoohan pounded his fist on the table and tendered his resignation. "Yes," Jim said. "Some of them are absolutely brilliant and timeless." "What's your favorite?" "A, B & C" Jim said easily. "Then Hammer into Anvil." "Can you cue them up in the theater for me for later viewing?" "Not a problem. Why? What's up?" "It may be nothing but I taunted our haunter earlier and she sent a midget in a suit to view all my handiwork." "Damn!" Jim shook his head. "Top hat?" "Yep," Maugham said. "I was fucking furious until I thought about it deeper." "Good work brother," Jim said. "Let me ask Jim," Maugham said, " What is your least favorite episode?" That's easy too, The Girl Who Was Death."
Azotusland "Cue that one up too."
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Chapter Forty
As Maugham was walking toward the Theater, Martine was walking down the stairs. "Where have you been boyfriend?" she asked. "Boyfriend?" he smiled. Then he held her close and looked into her brown eyes and kissed her. "Hey, can you come with me?" "Sure." Renata rode home in the semi-dark as it was past 9. She was tired and felt gross. When she got home she locked up the bike and hiked up a flight to their studio apartment. When she got in the door her shoulders slumped. The dishes were in the sink and Rand was reading Bateson.. She kissed him on the forehead and went into the bath and slipped into the hot shower a minute later. She didn't hear the door really, but was just unfolding under the water when he stepped in. She blushed. He could still do that, and more. He sat down on the floor of the shower and let the steam roll around them. She pretended to pay him no mind until he kissed her kneecaps gently. His head slumped against her legs and she laughed a bit. Then he began to croon, off-key and on purpose, an old Frank Sinatra song as he started to make his way up her legs. "The Summer wind...came rolling in...." She grabbed his curled frollicks and led him into her and moaned gently then wildly. God she loved this man. After he had driven her to shudders she wanted his face ...his eyes, his smile. She wanted her husband, her lover. He was a gift, and she knew it. Someone had once said that no gift was ever received until you were grateful. She was grateful as he stood up in the shower (which was now getting colder) and looked her in the eyes, pressed his body and hardness against her and held that special part of her that he loved so much with his hands and mouthed her warm lips. Then he moved his hands up as she did and they interclasped them high against the tiles. He entered her softly and she moaned and held his hands up high.
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Rand felt the presence of God like a scent or vision that you cannot quite explain. He looked at Renata and smiled and she bit her lip a bit and they touched temples and they talked with God for a bit like a holy and joyful threesome. They talked about love, and people they knew and life and they made jokes and laughed every once and awhile when Rand would suddenly thrust. Then Rand turned off the water (it had gotten cold) and he walked her into the small bed area where he laid her down and grabbed her shoulders and they conceived a child. When he came, Rand laughed. And no one did the dishes for two days. But that's another story.
Martine poured a glass of Merlot and Maugham joined her and they slumped down into the chairs and Maugham hit the button and qued up "A,B, and C." Her hair smelled good and he liked the way it lay across his arm. It was heavy and dark. She looked up at him every now and again with her almond eyes and he felt good.
Jim had gone up to survey his "shop" and it seemed good and well to him. He walked into the Library and saw Ted studying in one corner and Jacob reading a comic book. When he entered the Cafe proper he saw Jonathan. "What a Wonderfulness to see you Sahib!" Jonathan chirped. Then Manfred came out from the back and said "Sahib?! What a Wonderfulness to see yous!" Everyone laughed. Manfred looked confused. "Look Jonathan," Jim said. "I have a little errand for you tomorrow at noon, okay?" "Fine Bloss," Jim said "But is bad for glass...very bad for glass" Jim said "Chinatown," and walked away. Jim had been a bit shaken by his encounter with Delphia. She had hit him out of nowhere and it
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He wrote her later and tried to express what he had felt at the park, but it was no use. He was simply haunted and he didn't like it. But then he did like it. Life. That night he left the door to the Bunkhouse open and went to sleep around 11:30. He was not surprised when he woke up at 2:30 and she was curled up behind him. She read him pretty well. He got up and had some water then came back in. She looked like an angel in her blue skirt and mauve top and her bare feet and her black Keds at the foot of the bed. Jim wasnt ready for anything but this. Not sex. Just be next to her, feeling her hair, swinging his long arm over her middle curve. She was good. Jim came into the Ops around 5:45 and Maugham was already at the computers. The long cloth room divider hid, no doubt, a very sleepy Martine. Jim started to make a comment in a whisper when Martine spoke up from behind the curtain. "I'll be there in time." Jim smiled at Maug who smiled back, then frowned. "That's a weird series," he said. "Yeah, well what's your impression?" "Same as it has always been, she is always a step ahead and she knows you pretty well. But there has to be a mole because if she came herself you would recognize her, or I would...I think...whoever she is." "Yes, I figure the same," Jim said. "Any ideas who?" "Someone who needs money or has some reason to hate you." "Ted?" "Maybe," Maugham said scratching his stubble. "Got no love for you, you heathen dog." Then Maugham laughed thinking about Jim's collection down below. Well, I am sending Jonathan down to Deek's today for some equipment so you can sweep the place." "Why don't you send Jacob with him," Maugham said.
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Jim gave Jonathan instructions, then around 11 a.m. hunted down Jacob and asked if he could give Jonathan a lift down to Deeks and back. Jonathan and Jacob sauntered into the large electronics store and took a look around. Finally they asked for Deek who came to the counter from the back. He squinted through thick glasses and Jonathan thought he was definitely trying to look like Wilford Brimley. As Jacob started to talk with him, Jonathan spied another off looking fellow in the store. He was short, had yellow warp-around sunglasses and looked pretty scruffy and unshaved. It was Robin Williams, he was sure. His idol was in the store. Jonathan was unsure what to do. He didn't want to bother the man. Obviously he meant to be somewhat incognito and he was, after all, just a private citizen deserving of space and respect. But it was his idol, and Jonathan could do almost as many voice impersonations as Williams could. He decided to pretend he worked there and just do an old Winter's routine and she if Mr. Williams would pick up on it. "Welcome to Deeks!" he said in his best Elwood P. Suggins voice. Williams looked up suspiciously at the younger man. "We've featured electronics Har...oh geeez..." he looked around rolling his eyes, "...well every since I lost my wife Hermina in a flash flood in Oklahoma...sad sad. Then I lost my radio, my car my dawg and my," "Picture of the missus!" Williams did in the same voice. "But," Jonathan sad sadly standing in front of a bank of radios, "We're fresh out of electronics today," and they both shuffled their feet and looked around pretending to be confused. "You got any fish?" Williams asked. "No. Pigeons!" "You're going to fly aren't you, you old rascal!" Williams chirped. "Oh no, not me! Maudie's in the back and well, it's Maynard...and he's about ready," "How many roles of scotch tape you use?" Williams said grinning. "Seven hundred and forty-seven," Jonathan said. "He's taped-up real good and those pigeons aren't going anyhere except up!" "Hmnnn.." Williams said. "A human 747...and you say Maudie's out back?"
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Jonathan turned around and put on his reading glasses and turned back. "Well my my my aren't yooo a purty-picture young man!" he squawked as Maudie Frickert. "And nice glasses too! You look like Bono with jaundice!" "Thanks, that was great," Williams said. "You do stand-up kid?" "Nope," Jonathan said. "I can't remember lines, I just have to improv." "But you just did both," Williams said. "Oh yeah, if I hear it over and over on a record, then I can." "Yeah....like do the toaster...know that bit?" Jonathan did a short few lines and Williams beemed. "Look son, here is what you do...."
Chapter Forty One

Back at the cafe the Rev. Tanka was wheezing and going over notes for the daily radio broadcast. Maurice seemed preoccupied. Sex was sitting alone, most of the time. It was almost time to pick up Lucille and Antoine. She had written some notes in her journal and wanted to get them into her computer and up on her blog later in the afternoon. When Jacob and Jonathan got back they hiked up to The Doghouse. Jonathan had missed his sandwich but there were enough people still around. He leapt up on stage and did both parts from the conversation with Williams. Then took a bow to light applause. Jacob took the equipment over to Jim who took it up to Ops for Maugham. After that Jim went to the Bunkhouse and saw that Delphia was still laying in his bed. She was reading his copy of Beauchner's Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC and she looked at him quizzically. He laid down next to her tired and not sure of anything. "I have a night job Delphia," he said. "I'm a theologian of sorts" he said. "Just not like any you have heard of. I suppose Beauchner is one of the closest to what I do." "Yeah, he's funny and smart," she said smiling. "But what do you mean by theologian?"
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"Well you know what an anthropologist is, right?" "They study humanity and culture." "Exactly," he said. "Well theologians like myself study God and culture...or that was our initial mission before we went horribly off track with dead religion." "So you study God?" "In a manner," he said. "Could have fooled me," she said smiling, then she kissed him on the forehead. "Thanks Brother," he said. "Hey!" she objected. "You know what 'Delphia' means in Greek?" He asked. "It's a form of 'adelphos'....brother." "Oh...I had heard something like that," she said. "But I'm not like any brother you know...brother! Now hold me and take your nap!" she ordered.
Maugham swept the grounds that afternoon with the equipment from Deeks. He found three listening devices and three small cameras. He left them where they were for now, but jumped into the Mustang and cruised the neighborhood. He past an old red van about two blocks away but it looked abandoned. When he came back by it was still there and he noticed a tire was flat. That evening Maugham removed the devices and their tiny batteries. He resisted the temptation to address them before gutting them. He reported the vagrant red van and was told a notice would be placed on it and then it would be removed in 72 hours. At 3 a.m. there was a large explosion in the parking lot of the Azotus. By the time Jim, Maugham, Martine, and Manfred got to the lot the Mustang was in pieces all over the ground and in flames. Maugham called 911 and they heard sirens soon in the distance. Jim sat down on the step as nothing seemed in danger beyond the car. Manfred was beside himself.
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"This is very VERY bad Sahib!!" he cried out again and again waving his hands. "HOW cans I bring the car a round when there is no CAR to brings around!!?" "It's okay Manfred," Jim said. "I'm insured." "Oh Very bad Sahib!! Surely this is the dance of Shiva!"
Chapter Forty Two

On Wednesday morning there had been much excitement in the Batcave. A new pack of super heroes had been delivered that the boys had ordered and a new world war ensued replete with lots of children's sound effects. Lucille, Carver and Matisse were not the least interested. They were playing and ancient rock game which they seemed to understand but which eluded Jim and Jeremy both. When Jim came down at noon for a visit and Matisse wanted to show him her artwork. One struck him hard. A tracing of a large hand with brilliant flaming colors. It looked like the hand of God to him. "Pumpkin, what do you call this one?" he said, expecting her to say "Happy hands" or the usual kid thing. She looked up at him and said "The Hand of God", then she smiled and skipped off. Jim left a few minutes later with the art and walked up the long way around the North side of the complex. It took him by the back lot where there was lots of yellow tape and bits of charred Stang. Well this wasn't the "Hand of God" he said to himself. Later that day Jim got an email: Know how you love BBQ Jim. Call off your attack dog or he might get bitten. ~Rnonymous Maugham had gotten his own email. You are so predictible. Should have learned chess instead of checkers. Be seeing you. ~R Maugham noticed that the Red Van was gone but had no idea if hit had simply been towed or moved off on its own power. On the agenda for the day on the Azotuscafe.com site was a movie for kids at 6 p.m. in the
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Theater with Jeremy supervising; a lecture by a Muslim theologian on the notion of peace in the Koran in the library at 7, and a CD party in The Doghouse for a new Bay Area band named Tallulah Bankhead, named after the famous and eccentric actress. The CD was aptly named, Lifeboat. Jim, down in the belly of Azotus could have used a lifeboat. Finishing this paper was killing him. He had run through the various arguments off and on for days. He was exhausted and his work looked like shit. "What's the point?" he thought and felt. He walked past all these great authors and looked at how hard they had worked to get at what was real, valuable, weighty. Row after row in the warm firelight flickering. Anders Nygren on Meaning and Method; DeRougemont on the romantic myth; Merton on solitude, Thich Nyat Hanh on war; the English Puritans, who had been persecuted, on depression and the care of the heart, mind, and soul. He thought of Becker dying at a young age, Jim's age really, but still wanting to get at truth. Then there was Pascal, Kierkegaard, Percy, and even a few moderns. He liked Anne Lamott very much and David Sedaris made him laugh out loud, which was not easy to do. But how much of it was artifice? How much bullshit? He remembered Kierkegaard's words well because they were on the wall on the one piece of art he had in the room. It was Van Gogh's Crows Over a Wheatfield and overlayed with Kierkegaard's words: "Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward."
He was caught however in the present...between the past and future. And this was his time and he had no real constraints except the limitations of being human (that and being one vehicle short). He put the finishing touches on and published it to the website, then poured a second large glass of Bordeaux and sat back in his chair and listened to Over the Rhine performing I Want You to Be My Love.
Chapter Forty Four

The next morning Maurice came in unexpectedly early. He often went to The Doghouse with Rev. Tanka, but today he went upstairs somewhat to look for Jim. When he got there Renata took his order. "Just black coffee" he said and Renata wrinkled her nose. "Now Maurice you are a Latte Man!"
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she cooed. He looked at her ladling the foamed milk into the dark brown cup and he thought he might get sick. "No, just black," he said. When he got to the register he looked at Jim with big soft eyes and Jim asked "What's wrong Maurice?" "Can I talk to you man?" "Sure, let me get someone and I'll join you in a few," Jim said. He made change, then called to see if Maugham could cover. He could. When Maugham came in he smirked and Jim nodded and he went over and sat with Maurice. "Wussup brother," Jim said in his bad-pseudo whiteman inflection. "Rev. Tanka is in the hospital," he said "And I do not think he is going to make it." Jim asked him to tell the whole story and he did.
Because it was a criminal investigation, the insurance agent showed up that day and took statements from the few there on Tuesday night. He wrote Jim a check right off and wished him luck. Jim decided to deposit it in a new account for a special purpose...just $42,000. He didn't need a fancy car. He hardly ever drove it and Manfred could bring the Jeep around or he would buy an old Volvo and Manfred could drive in circles. Jim skipped his nap and headed to the hospital. It felt weird to do visitation but he knew what he was doing. He came into Tanka's room and he was on a mess of machines keeping him viable. When no one was around he took Tanka's hand and prayed for him. The machines seem to inhabit the spirit of his lost life. Hand of God, judgment of God, words and breath of God. Hand of Man, judgment of Man, words and breath of Man.
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"My ways are not your ways, neither are your thoughts my thoughts" He stood and kissed Rev. Tanka lightly on the forehead and said a ancient Christian blessing and left. As he walked away he knew the man was now a charlatan. It did not matter. Perhaps when younger he was not. Jim knew some of ministerial wounds and carried them still with a limp. He thought how beautiful Tanka was in an utterly odd way. The trip from tragedy or comedy to "good news" or redemption was often a short one. He decided on the way home what to do if Tanka became well enough to see visitors. In the meantime, he would spend 30 minutes a day with him in silence.
When Sex got home from the cafe the kids where nowhere to be seen. The house had candles and a simple dinner had been bought and laid out. He gave her a cocktail and she drank it down. It burned. "Another" she demanded. He didn't say a word, he just poured, while she looked over his hard muscular body. Damn this man was fine. After that he put her drink away and kissed her hard, then soft, then harder, then softer until she was wet and her nipples hard. He was rough. She roughed back. She liked that as he laid her down and grabbed her from underneath. She looked into his eyes...the boy...the man...the fire...desire. She flexed her toes as he made a bold move...unusual for him. It was perfect tonight.
"What do you think of me Martine?" Maugham asked. She sat next to him on the deck, and he could smell her and loved her smell.
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"I think you are the best man I have ever known," she said. "And the worst." "That bad?" "Not so very bad," she said and she kissed him. "Plus a real woman likes a scoundral too."
Sex was on top now trusting down like a man on him and whipping her blond hair back and forth. "You wanna ride baby?" she panted aggresively. Then she reached down and lightly bited his nipples and dug in deeper. The boy...the man...her man...and he loved her and she him and she drove down harder as if to take them to some mystical place that lovers rarely ever see..a place where God kisses your forehead when you have an orgasm with your husband. Yes husband. Sex loved her husband and wanted him now. And all he had ever wanted was her. He flipped her over and she flipped him back and they both came as they wrestled, thrusted and laughed in a wonderful sweaty mess. They had been married 14 years. It just got better if you let it.
Chapter Forty-Five
At 2 am Jim drained the last of bottle of white Bordeaux and hit publish on the main Azotus Caf Library blog. The title of the article was Depth Pluralism.
Faith, Hope and Love...these three abide but the greatest of these is Love" ~St. Paul Despite impressive technological and medical advances, the utopian goals of the Enlightenment failed. The grand experiment where humanity shook off the fetters of religion and took up the reigns of existence only resulted in advanced bloodshed, world wars, the A bomb, and now terrorism. What started with such loud promise at the storming of the Bastille, finally died with a whimper two centuries later with the fall of the Berlin Wall. So now nationalistic religion has tried to reclaim humanity and creation in the wake of
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this failure in a near Constantinian/Moorish Crusader-way. Power, hate, judgment, intolerance, war and rumors of more wars. I am so tired of the "Human Schtick". Look around you. We suck. My Friend's Question My friend Maugham asked a good, if not slightly unfair question. This is also in the nature of relationship and love and connection. It's not always fair but we have some choices within the situation. Maugham wonders if my Christian faith makes me intolerant. I cringe to even admit the implied association because that is what the word "Christian" has come to mean to many...intolerance, harsh judgment, power, greed, surety and an arrogance that God is "on our side". Of course, Maugham knows better from experience, but I would assert that my belief makes me more tolerant, not less and that is at the heart of all that Azotus is. I love the diversity and freedom that exists here. God loves freedom, love and probably good coffee and food. Modernity The Modernist model of competition and propositional/rationalistic argument has given way to a rebellion. Bout time cuz Enlightenment philosophy resulted in the bloodiest century in human history when it promised to issue in the most enlightened and safe one. Light and safety my ass! Einstein said, "Imagination is more powerful than knowledge," and; "Things should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler. I was prepared to try and deliver a new model based on relevance and relevance when I started here, and in a non-competitive way that was open, academic, and inclusive. But I realize now that if we cannot do it within a simple cafe where all people and their views are heard and respected in safety that it does not matter. No, we have to just do it here first as people in community. We have to make Azotus a non-utopian model...just a simple human one. To that end I give you one possible solution..as flawed as we are as human beings and therefore a perfect match. "Depth Pluralism" simply means we do not make dead knowledge or current ideology the rule of day in it's rigidity.
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Under Modernity every philosophy or school of thought was inherently competitive. Why? How simple, clear or imaginative is that? It's overly complex, artificial in it's dichotomies and devoid of vision. Under Modernity every religious tradition or form of spirituality was reduced to it's lowest common denominator. We were always in control. Modernity, Rationalism in all it's arrogance led to State control or the attempt at it. But we are NOT in control. Not even close. And we need to let the LIGHT of these traditions...all of them shine in their own light. Some will not shine at all. Fundamentalism, in all its forms, will never shine as it is a darkness that exists via fear. But let it be what it is. Let Christianity be what it is in itself and not be co-opted by the charlatans and religious. Read the Word yourself and make up your own mind and heart. You'll be, perhaps, wonderfully and sweetly shocked. When my Zen Buddhist brother and I agree and find connection we do. When we find great distinction we are honest about that to the same degree. We value truth and honesty and relationship. Truth in vibrancy is found in unrepressed and un-diluted expression of the fullness of each tradition. We all wish to be heard, but can we also learn to listen as an act of active and living faith, hope and love? Does it serve any purpose at all for my Hindu neighbor to not be able to fully express the vibrancy of his fully faith and beliefs? Do I need to agree to listen and learn? And if we, all of us, must constantly be restrained from the free expression of our real spiritual impulses, questions and desires will this lead to health, or will this repression be used against us and make us sick spiritually? Is it not true that the one place we can still go safely and watch things which are spiritual and which touch us are the movies? This is one of the reasons we have Azotus Movie Nights. But we can do so much more if we are willing to gove what we ourselves need: safety and basic respect. Not agreement. Only the most spiritually immature think that to listen to a person has meant you agree with them. It does not. In my tradition God is very powerful and in that power God decided to give up power and for loves sake come down and become one of us and gestate in a womb for nine months then spill out into our riot. This makes it very difficult for me to be judgmental of anyone, or to desire power for powers own sake and it does not make me very often want to win and argument. IT does make me wish to communicate and find common ground. That is Depth Pluralism and the answer to brave Maugham's question as best I can give.
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I look forward to Blog questions. Jim
Chapter Forty Six

Renata had asked Rand about the laughing and he said it like a poem. Joy came inside you like sweet communion wine. Like Spirit being spoken into life. "What have you been smoking?" she chided. "Been going to too many Azotus Movie Nights...sheesh." "I laughed because I felt her being formed at that moment. We are going to have a baby." "We can't afford that!" she said . "Oh God...great...throwing up...stretch marks...working all fat...I hate being a woman." "I love that you are a woman." "Yer wrong!!" Renata yelled after him. But she was not at all sure of it.
That night, in the Theater, they were showing Babette's Feast, a particular favorite of Jim's so he was leading the discussion afterward. It was a slow film in many ways and Ted fell asleep, as did Jonathan. Jim and others did not as the sheer simplicity of the film and its beautiful and poetic storyline pulled them in. About halfway through the film Martine brought in a large covered pot and Maugham brought in bowls and they spooned up some rather bad, but healthy fish porridge. "OOla-bred!" Jim said and they all took bites and started laughing. Ted woke up when the bowl was passed to him. He looked at it and then said "what the fuck?" And the room busted up.
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Jim had stopped the film at just before the big dinner celebration and started up a conversation as they found ways to dispose of the Azotus-made Ule-bred. "We live in time and generation that are more and more passive observers," Jim started. "I didn't want to preach, but a lot of what we do here at Azotus is contrary to that as you get more and more involved in each others lives and as you discuss and explore life together, no matter how loosely." "This community in the film," he continued, "was very locked in...so much so that it was literally dying out from want of new offspring. Now what do you make of their religion?" Jeremy spoke first. "It was hard, but also weirdly soft,' he said. "Yeah...the old preacher man was a hard-ass and severe," said River. "But his daughters were full of love and care." "And there was a weird disconnect between the preacher and his words," Maugham said. "Kinda like you Jim." Laughter. Martine squeezed Maugham's hand and gave him a look like "huh? Youa 'go-er?'" He smiled but kept his seat. He had seen this before with Jim and he liked what it did to Jim at the end. In fact he loved Jim for it. They talked on and remarked on how beautiful the older women were in the film and River had a lot to say about modern ideas of beauty for women. In contrast where the two "boyfriends" who had been trapped in some way by ambition or vanity. Jim prepared to start the end of the film, but stopped and said "The Ule-bred was disgusting (laughter) but meant to introduce involvement. Next month I want to try something new and do a Middle Eastern Dinner in The Doghouse and I would like you all to come on April 15th." "The food will be amazing and I will treat you to ...well an Ancient story that will warm your heart and maybe shock you a bit at the same time." And with that he lowered the lights and we saw the General and his aunt arrive in the carriage and the dinner commence on screen. True to form after the amazing speech at the end of the film by the general...a remarkable moment of Grace, Jim held it together. Maugham watched him slyly out of his glinted eyes, then nudged Martine when the sisters asked Babette about when she would be leaving back to France and it is clear she is not and why.
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Tears streamed down Jim's face and he buckled a bit and Maugham saw him fight within himself because the film was now over and he had to lead the discussion. When the lights came up Maugham sauntered into the front and took the stool. Jim looked up as Maugham said "Well, Martine will be down soon with the crepes caviar and champagne," he said grinning. Jim got up and exited as Maugham deftly handled the discussion that went on for a good forty minutes. Ted piped up toward the end "Why did Jim leave?" "Hankering for turtle soup I suppose," Maug said off-cuff. "You finish yer Ule-bred Ted?"
chapter Forty Seven

Jacob wasn't pleased when he heard rumors about Jim and Delphia, but the fact was there was nothing really going on. Delphia sensed Jim's introversion might be more than that, and she just found him too restrained and emotionally unavailable for what she truly needed. She had slept next to him on a number of occasions but they did not make love or even kiss. There relationship was simply a mystery, but a happy one. Jim brightened whenever Delphia was about. She exuded a health, vitality and beauty that she herself could not recognize, but most everyone else did. So when Delphia was about she and Jim would play like lovers and she felt utterly free to be herself with him. That Saturday morning Jim was on break and talking with Ted. Well, perhaps it was more of an intense discussion. As usual, Ted was doing most of the talking, while at the same time being evasive when asked a direct question by Jim. Delphia walked in, saw them and quickly surmised. She marched over, plopped down next to Jim and put both of her Keds up on his lap as Ted tried to finish saying,"without propositional Truth life has no meaning, function or form. You would leave us in randomness." Jim looked down in his lap and smiled over at Delphia. "Hi sweetie," he grinned. "You look ravishing." "Care ta ravish me?" she replied sweet and suggestive. "And that's another thing Jim," Ted said tersely. "You call yourself a 'Christian' yet you cavort with women!" "Cavort does not sound as fun as being ravished," she said to Ted, who ignored her.
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"Actually Del, cavorting is a lot of fun. We should try it sometime," Jim said to her then turned to Ted. "Do you even know what cavort means Ted?" "It means to have elicit non-monogamous relations," Ted said. "No Ted. It means to dance around brightly in the light of day. It's like 'frolicking'. Delphia, would you care to come with me this afternoon to the garden and frolick in the sun?" "Oh yes sweetie!!" she cried out, clapping her hands to mock Ted. "And to answer your query Ted," he said turning more serious, "I do not call myself a 'Christian'. You do. But certainly you have captured the original intent." "Intent? What intent?" asked Ted. "Derision Ted," Jim said matter-of-factly. "The word is only cited once in the Bible, and it was meant as an insult." "Cavort with that," Delphia said to the ignoring Ted. "Oh that's not true," scowled Ted, but he was unsure so he changed the subject. "What about my paper Jim? How come you haven't responded?" "Well Ted I've been a little busy trying to run Azotus lately." "And the cavorting," Delphia smiled brightly. Just then Manfred walked by and added "And havings cars blow up into tiny bits all about the lot!" "Thank you Manfred," Jim said smiling at Ted. "But I can give you some feedback now if you like." "First of all, I appreciate that you took the time to write it. I welcome diverging opinions and of all of the opinions I have heard that is certainly one of them." "So you are saying 'why don't we just agree to disagree'." said Ted. "No. We both know that can't be said about a lot of things. I am saying that your presentation of rational propositional truth is very helpful to an extent, but has severe limitations, and like all human philosophies is itself caught in time and situation." "Situational ethics?" Ted said feigning further knowledge on the subject. "No, simply that philosophy, like politics, is generated in context...within it's own time and
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As he said this Delphia had removed her shoes from his lap and was now rubbing Jim calf with her left foot suggestively. "Your approach Ted," Jim said without any hint of derision, "is just one interpretive grid placed over experience. In your case it is a capitulation to Modernity and Rationalism...really just a reaction to it. You have tried to 'prove" a faith that is unproveable and apparently was meant to be at the very core." "But you use to be an apologist, how can you say that now?" "He apologizes for that," Delphia chimed in. Just then Hans walked over and said "I have rearranged ze Gallery Jim und it is now perfuckt." "Thanks Hans. You are doing a marvelous job." With that Hans clicked his heels together and marched off. "Didn't the guy do that in the movie the other night?" Delphia asked. "Yes," Jim said. "Very 'Old School'." he smiled, then turned back to Ted and proceeded.
Andy, down in the IC was perturbed. He felt, well, lonely and unappreciated. It had been a month since Jim had come down and spent an hour with him conversing. The only regular visitor on staff was Maugham and he just made fun of him. He went in the back and took a look at his plants and they were thriving and almost ready. That made him feel slightly better. Then Mrs. Stahlnakin came in for her Internet lesson and he tried to help her.
Maurice was at Rev. Tanka's side when he regained consciousness and he went to fetch the nurse. Tanka was touched by this and when they removed the oxygen mask he took only a minute to compose himself before asking for Maurice to get him a "smokie".
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Roo was having problems with the plumbing in the kitchen area just off The Doghouse. It was antiquated and now she and others would have to shut down the machine and do dishes by hand. She sighed heavily and decided Jim needed to give her a big raise and make some changes. Maugham had taken the equipment back to Deeks and gotten some of his own. The question of motive and opportunity kept clicking in his mind. He had no answers and it pissed him off. When he returned he walked up the steps and decided to check his emails in the IC. "Hi Troll," he said when he came in. Andy grunted and went into the back. Then up in the Library a discussion group was starting, led by a former Republican senator, Avery Dixon, on the true nature of Conservatism. As it was Marin, it was not well attended, but the discussion was lively and informative.
Chapter Forty Eight

Jim had gone in every day for a half hour and just sat with Rev. Tanka. Sometimes he would pray for him, or would read him selections from the Psalms that dealt with adversity. They had never really talked, but he was a regular customer...somewhat of a fixture, and despite his rather strange versions of reality he never did anyone any harm. It seemed Rev. Tanka was alone and had no family. When he got sick no one from his "radio congregation" had bothered to visit. Jim was happy to see him awake and alert when he came in the room on Saturday afternoon. "Rev. Tanka!" Jim said as he crossed the room and took his hand. "Well now Jim-bo. Ahah-ah. How-ah very niceah to see ah-yoo." Jim took a seat next to him and asked how he was feeling and how long had he been doing better. "Oh the Good Lord-ah hasah been watching over me," he said. "Buttah the food in here is an atroc-city dear Jim-Bo. It is infested-ah with da white shooger and poly-sunsatured-ah fat." "Look, I brought in this book to read to you," Jim said. "But now I will just leave it for you." They chatted about pretty much nothing for 20 minutes then Jim said his good byes and said he'd come back the next day if he could. When he left Tanka had picked up the copy of Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies and began to read.
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Maugham had decided to take some of the guesswork out of his investigation. So on Saturday he followed Ted after he left Azotus, and on Sunday he tailed Jacob. He didnt like doing it, and on purpose, he did not tell Jim. He just said he had lots of errands and needed some time off. Ted simply went to his apartment and Maugham gave up after an hour. Jacob, on the other hand, made several stops. One to a stationary store, then to a pay phone at an Arco station, and finally he swung back around and went back to the Azotus. Maugham wondered what Jacob did for a living. He had heard that he was a handyman, but it was always Jonathan that was the most help on projects around Azotus. Of course, Jonathan was an employee, of sorts, so maybe it was nothing. Maugham kept going back to motive. What could Rnonymous want? Was it money? Jim was not rich by any means, though Maugham admitted that the revelation of Silo 1 & 2 had made him wonder what assets Jim really had. How did one create such an elaborate place unknown to anyone else? Obviously contractors and workers had created it as the massive renovation of the whole complex was under way...but unknown to the regular contractors? Who had those kind of resources and where had Jim gotten them if he had them? When Maugham first met Jim we had a small house that he rented in Land Park. He knew that Jim dealt in art and was part owner of a small gallery, but there was not any sign that he had means. When he had purchased the property in Marin all Jim had said was he had found a few investors, but Maugham had never met one. No investor had ever graced the place and Maugham had been there since day one. Jim seemed to hold all the cards to Azotus and someone wanted to extract a pound of flesh from him for it. That was all Maugham could figure.
Chapter Forty Nine

That night they closed up at 11 and Jim headed to the Bunkhouse for a shower and then disappeared as usual. Maugham also hit the small shower in OPs when Martine suddenly joined him. He could never really get over her form. Like many women who were not waif-ish or like stork models, but had amazing curves, she hid her figure well. Baggy T-shirts, layered shirts, and just
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a tom-boy demeanor were all ways of not attracting idiots thinking with their gonads like the stupider breeds of dog who would just as soon hump a dead bush. Maugham was not stupid, but he also was generally surpised again when she was naked and he saw how beautiful she was. It was hard not to stare. Embarrassed if he did, and a lie if he didn't. Maug didn't do well with either alternative. Sometimes when he was in the cafe he would see her from the side. Her jawline and hair. Her full lips and honest smile. Then he would look down a bit and gulp because he knew what was under that baggy shirt. Martine was pushing 40 but in so many ways she was just the girl next to him in 11th grade shop class. He loved her and when she came into the shower he laughed but decided not to be the least bit reserved. Love, real love went beyond the bullshit of society and all the ways it objectified women. This was not such a woman. This was his lover and friend. He nestled his head between her breasts and stroked her back. Then he grabbed the soap and did her whole backside. Then he washed her hair and when she was so hot and wet from the water he kissed her wildly and arched and bowed into her. He snapped the knob down and they tumbled, almost comically out of the shower and around the corner and behind the big curtain. She didn't laugh as she usually did. "Wait, wait," she said. "I want to see your eyes looking at me." He lighted the candle, and the two other smaller ones on the shelf so she could see him as he warmly mounted her. He groaned as he entered her and he just stopped because he felt that somehow this was more real than what often happened after. He just wanted to be one body...his body inside of hersone body...oneness. It wasn't about sex...it was about intimacy and oneness. But he felt there was more. He looked at Martine's face and marveled as she tilted back in seeming pain which was utter pleasure.
Manfred had fallen behind on his Tivo watching now that it had been repaired. He sat on his small bed enraptured and giggling while he ate the rest of Jim's Mocha Almond Fudge. He heard slight moans coming through the wall and some kind of rythmic thumping. "It is a wonderfulness," he said quietly to himself.
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Jim was down in Silo 3, which was very unusual for him for more than fifteen minutes a day. Every day he went down on a 15 minute break (usually) at 7:30 in the evening. He would slip in, turn down the leftward hallway about 40 feet and then descend into the room. Carved into the tiled floor was a long pool 77 feet long but only three feet wide. A fountain gently fell on a sliver-crest on the far end. The pool was lightly illuminated from within. Inside there were koi swimming. Jim would sit cross-legged and feed the koi. There were twelve fish and they had grown magnificently. Only one of them was a simple goldfish. He was Jim's favorite. He bought him as a simple 10 cent feeder fish and he had grown over the years to a good 9 inches long and a bright orange with a white patch on his head. The room was most always dark and cold with Jim sitting by the edge of the long watery tray.
Manfred sighed. "This is a ridiculousness of profound over-sexing" he said to himself as the thumping and noise increased next door. Maugham's seriousness continued as did Martine's. She bit his ear and thrashed on top of him as he pulled on her ass harder and harder with animal grunts. Normally this would have made him laugh, or both of them. Not tonight. He looked into her eyes in the candle-light. It was different. He yanked her down by the shoulders so her breasts swayed across his chest as they moved. He grabbed her dark hair and pulled and she swooned back and shuddered and cried. Then he slipped her around and drove her into the small bed, grabbing her legs behind him and he said "grab my ass Marty..." She was loud. Maug didn't care. "Huh..huh...huh...uhgod...uuuuuhhhh!" and she bit his shoulder hard as he came inside of her. He collapsed on top of her. After a minute she stopped panting loudly and said," you are not the smallest guy," and then he laughed and swung to the side and nestled his face below her jaw and into her sweet wet hair. She swung her arm over him and held him close and stroked his goatee with her index finger,
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then his eyebrows which were dark and intense. Then she ran her finger over his lips and whispered things in his ear he had never heard. Manfred finally got to sleep at 12:30 a.m.
Chapter Fifty
Jim had posted a notice about the Rev. Tanka on the main website the next morning and also dropped some suggestions to a few regulars. When he had spoken to Ted, around late morning, he looked up angry and said, "that man is a quack Jim and you know it. Let him have what he deserves?" "What if you get what you deserve Ted?" "I take a godly life seriously," Ted said seriously. "And that comes from having correct doctrine. Tanka wouldn't know correct doctrine if it hit him in the face, or he'd try and smoke it," he said with disdain. "No one has correct doctrine Ted," Jim said without sympathy. "Go smoke 1 Corinthians 13:12." Then Jim left him to sort it out. "Damn I hate doing that," Jim muttered under his breath. Citing "proof texts" was a losing proposition, even with Fundies. It was like a mouthful of milk gone bad and it ran against the whole intent and flow of those Fiirst Century narratives and letters. He went out on the deck and took in some cool air. It was deserted because it was a cold overcast morning, but Jim enjoyed it for a moment anyway. What about Ted made him angry? Was it just his intolerance? Jim figured no. It was that Ted reminded him of himself twenty years earlier. He thought how he had eviscerated even his own professors in college with his airtight logic. He didn't love those men and women, he just wanted to best and humiliate them in the name of "Truth." Looking over the edge he sighed heavily and turned and went back in. Ted was reading the Corinthian passage with a stern look on his face, just as Jim might have all those years ago...looking for a way to fix Jim's ass rather than seeing the deeper beauty that was in those words. "I am sorry Ted," Jim said looking down on him. "Sorry for what Jim?" Ted replied tersely. "Scripture is scripture and is profitable for teaching, training, reproof..." and on he went for awhile. When he was done, Jim said "I am sorry for being rude and unloving. I am not your enemy." "You don't act like a brother Jim," Ted said with a slicing glance.
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"Well just then I did not, that's true and I apologize. Can I make two suggestions Ted?" "Sure, free country." "First, even if I was your enemy then please consider the words of Jesus who asked us to love our enemies." Ted rolled his eyes, but kept silent after just an "and...?" "And please read the whole chapter there, and maybe the chapter before it and the one after. Get the whole flow of what Paul is saying to the community in Corinth. It's a revolutionary vision of faith, hope and love and should not be relegated to wedding ceremonies. That was not its intent. And it's why we are leaving in ten minutes to visit Rev. Tanka. I hope you will reconsider and come with us. Ted shook his head and looked down, but he did turn back to chapter 12 and start from the top.
"Manfred can you bring the car around?" "Oh No Sahib! It's blowed up!" "Are you fucking with me Manfred?" "A little," Manfred said and giggled before running off for the Jeep keys. Jim laughed. What would he do without Manfred? Roo, ever the suffragette for Azotus took over the controls (not that she didn't already have them). She, Hans, and Ward closed up the lower room and shifted upstairs. In the parking lot Manfred waited in the car as people assembled. Maugham and Martine were huddled together waiting for Renata and Rand to arrive in their Honda. Jonathan piled into the Jeep along with Maurice, Ian, and finally Jim. Alice and Fred showed up five minutes later, and Templar's noisy Volvo came pulling up and Jonathan jumped out and said "I'm going in that 007!" in his best "Q" voice. Jacob and Delphia were once again somewhat of a tentative item. They had agreed to meet at the hospital at 1:30 or so. Andy had sent a card even though he had never met Tanka, just smelled smoke outside the IC that he figured was his. It had started to rain very lightly as it does in the area...a fine mist that is not. Martine looked up
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at Maug in his dark black jacket and the three braids down the side, he looked like "Strider" from Tolkein she thought, only taller. Rand and Renata were still missing when Ted came around the back with his big white Suburban, and Maugham and Martine walked over to get in. Just before they did, Maug flung his hair back and glared at Jim, then smiled. Just before they took off, Dave from the Zen Meditation Center arrived with two friends, and they all caravanned down the main drag. The talk on the way down was pretty jovial as more wipers were needed and it started to pour. In the hospital parking lot, which was lighted and covered they re-convened. "I dunno if they will let us all in at once or not," Jim said. "What do we do when we get there?" Jonathan asked. "Well, the first thing is not to do your impression of him Jay." "Ah man! That's not Coool," Jonathan instinctively did in his best Eddie Murphy/Maurice voice. Maurice was standing five feet away. Every one got quiet as Maurice glared. "Ah...it's allright MAAAN!" he finally said and the garage echoed with laughter. As they headed for the door Maurice looked at a sheepish Jonathan and said softly, "I hear that again and I will whip your cracker ass." Just then there was a screech of tires as the Honda came peeling in and parked. "Sorry, sorry!" Rand yelled. "Everybody make it or I need to go back?" "No worries."
Rev. Tanka was suffering from acute emphysema. There was nothing that could be done for him. Eventually he would simply run out of air. He made off in front of the nurses about how "the Lord" would heal him, but he knew it was not true. He closed his heavy eyes and as painful as it was he thought back to his days in Sweden as a young preacher. He had such fire and passion for people. Now he was alone. He had not seen his daughter Elise for a decade and the parting had not been pleasant. His wife had left over twenty years ago. Then he heard a commotion down the hall. He could not make out what it was but paid it no mind.
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Jim was gently pleading with the nursing staff about the group as a whole being able to go it. It would mean so much and they promised to be as quiet as possible. The nurse was having none of it, until a tall intense man walked from behind a few people and alongside Jim and said "Jean, this is really important." It was Ted. Jean was his aunt. She was a bit shocked but said she'd see what she could do. Jim leaned on elbows on the counter and Ted joined him. Jim looked over and smiled. "Nice work." Ted smiled back then they both looked forward. Jean came back and said it was okay but only for ten minutes, fifteen max if he was responding well. She herself would be in attendance. Just then Jacob and Ked Woman showed up and Nurse Jean rolled her eyes in the back of her head. The eighteen of them crept quietly down the hall and into Tanka's room.
Chapter 51
The Reverend John William Tanka stirred when he heard the shuffling of what sounded like parishoners in his old town of BikSkaard coming in across the stone steps of the old sanctuary. When he opened his eyes he saw Maurice's face dark and beautiful smiling at him. "Well-ah now Maurice you devil you...what you got cookin-in-dah pot-ah?" Then he focused and saw the room filled as it often was at the cafe. Familiar faces looking at him. For maybe a first time he was speechless. He looked out and saw Renata and Rand, Maugham, the tall Templar and the short Manfred, other men and women he knew less, then Jim and Ted? "Well-hah! Now that I have you all here as I planned-hah...I will commence with the morning sermon!" he said, then choked back some tears. Renata came over and gave him a hug and left him some brownies and whispered "made with Splenda.." "Not so bad," Tanka whispered. Then she kissed his forehead. Rand was next. "Um, I'm with her." "Name boy?"
Azotusland "Rand, " he said shocked. "What's your prayer request?"
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"What? We came here to be with you." Rand said rattled. "Yea-sus wellah Rand what-tha else I'm I gonna do laying-ah here before I die?" "Er...hmnnn... we might have a baby," Rand said quietly. Rev. Tanka smiled broadly. "Life, new life he said...good son. You take good care of that life." Other came forward, icluding those from the Zen center who had brought incense. "Think I had enough of the smokie," he gurgled as he took every hand one by one. Maugham came up with Martine and Rev. Tanka said "Marry the girl and get a haircut." Maug nodded. Manfred approached and Tanka said "Manfred, I always liked you...you were my favorite. Keep your joy." He asked each one their requests. In the end it was Jim, Ted and Maurice who sat down. "Thank you Jim-Bo," Tanka wheezed and held out his hand. "But take this boy under your wing" he said and Maurice winced. "Not you Mo-Bo," he coughed roughly. "This boy here..the angry one." "You call his pastor tomorr-rah and say I asked for pastoral-lah visitation-nah...and I want the boy once a week till I die." Ted looked bewildered but compliant. "Reverend?" he said looked up at a flustered Jim. Jim took out a small vial of oil and anointed Tanka's forehead and said quietly aloud, "The Lord bless you and keep you, May he make His beautiful face to shine upon you And be gracious unto you with all His love May he restore all you have lost And reward your any ways of love and gift May He hold you to his bosom The sweet child you are and forgive All your sins for His namesake. May your way to Him be full and free
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In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen."
Tanka squeezed his hand and said "Nice try." and Jim laughed "Send the boy around Jim. And thanks." Jim looked at Ted and he nodded. They left together silently and rode back in Ted's Suburban as the others had left a while ago. The Rev. Tanka cried softly for along while after when he was alone. But then he settled and started to pray for each of them, which he would do for many days ahead.
Chapter Fifty-Two
The following Tuesday morning in the upper cafe Sex was sitting by herself as was Ked Woman. They both looked sad. Jim noticed and came by on break and sat with Delphia. "What's up sweetie?" "He's gone," she said sadly. "Jacob?" "Yes," she said. She cried a bit and Jim held her shoulders and wondered what to do. After awhile he asked "how gone?" "Everything cleared out gone," she said. Minutes later Jim passed this on to Maugham who quickly jumped into the Jeep and drove over to Jacob's. It was true. No trace except a note with Jim's name on it. On the back it said "Maug...don't open it, just give it to Jim. Maug came back after an hour of asking around and walked in. Jim saw him and Maugham motioned for him to join him in the Ops.
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Jim invited Delphia to come nap with him in a bit and cry if she needed to. Later on she did. Once upstairs Maugham told him about the place and the note. Inside there was a typed note which was not from Jacob at all. It was from Rnonymous: Jim, I needed him for other work but he did his job. It will soon be time for you to do yours and I expect utter compliance or I assure you, you will lose everything. You made a large mistake many years ago and this is your karmic retribution. The end is coming soon. Rnonymous
The Rev. Tanka died that next Friday. Word came, from all people, through Ted. He called Jim at 10:30 p.m. from the hospital and told him in hushed tones about Tanka's passing. Jim thanked him and asked if he could take Ted to dinner sometime in the next week or so. Ted agreed and seemed very sad.
An air of too much seriousness had enveloped Azotus the next few weeks. It was not what Jim envisioned or wanted. He wanted open exploration, freedom and new connections to be made as people wanted them and interacted. It was still happening, but the daily joy of a year ago was being replaced with clouds of darkness. Azotus, which once flew "under the radar" had become noticeable and therefore a target? "How weird" Jim thought. "Why, and for what purpose." Some part of him knew the answer. It was why he had his own secrets. It was not cynicism, so much as realism.
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That one afternoon, after reading the note, Jim had gone and laid down in the Bunkhouse next to Delphia who was crying. He spooned in behind her and kissed her sweet cheek. She turned into him and with feeble lips kissed him gently. Then she snuggled into him and said "I love you." "Yes," he said softly, "I love you as well." "But Jim, just not that whole way," she said. "Yes," he whispered, "I understand. Love is still love." They both fell asleep for an hour. Jim had this dream as he slept. It was a cold day somewhere in upper California and he was walking down a long street alone, carrying a large trunk up on his shoulder and several packs were draped around him. He had been walking awhile and had many miles to go. As he walked he saw a very old man coming his way on his morning walk...his "constitutional". As they passed each other they each caught a snapshot of the other's face. Jim kept walking but he was subtracting year's from the man's face as he walked. He stopped in the road and turned. The other man had stopped as well and turned. They looked at each other from about 20 paces searching each other. Then the old man's face lighted up with a broad smile, and Jim knew this smile and he grinned too and the two walked briskly toward each other and embraced. "Ive missed you old friend," Jim said. "Oh we have missed you too Jim. Come, here, here is my house. Mary will be so happy to see you." Just then there she was in that mystical way dreams are. But she almost stumbled. Jim grabbed her tightly and supported her up to the house. Her two daughters were inside and they took Jim's things and put them out back for him and invited him for lunch. Jim remembered the man because when he was much younger he and a group of older parishoners had rallied around Jim and been his true support as he battled for people in a fairly ruthless political church situation. They were old even then but young and sweet in heart and also tough. He use to call them the "Cocoon people" jokingly. But here was Chris, now many years dead Jim was sure, yet alive in his dream. They had soup and when it dribbled down Chris' chin Mary laughed at him, as did his daughters and Jim. Then he did it again on purpose, and they laughed more. Jim said it was time for him to go, but when he got to the backyard to pickup his belongings they had multiplied. He hiked a few up on him and made way to the garage. Inside there were stacks and more stacks of his stuff. He fled to the street to get some air, but even there he saw more Jim
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Where was his simple trunk? Where were his small bags and the larger one? Chris' daughter, a tall lanky woman who Jim had not really noticed came out. She was stunning and vivacious. He looked at her hand and it had a ring. "Typical," Jim said in his dream. She was taking a long time to unpack and try and repack all the stacks of belongs that were now Jim's. She did not seem frustrated, just rather in control. Chris and Mary came out and they got into a horse carriage, smiled at Jim and rode off down the street Jim had been walking. A wild black horse bolted past him and across the road as fast as a jack rabbit and into a field of mist. Jim turned and looked at all the piles of Jim-stuff and he let go of the pack in his hand and removed the two slung over his shoulder. He took off his old pleated jacket and left it down, now covered only by a dark blue upper thermal as the mist came moving in like Marin. He watched them gallop off happy and free. He looked down at his fatigues and boots. There was a silver bracelet on his left arm with an inlayed sword and a leather one with beads from Matisse on his right. He started to walk away and the daughter called after him, "Jim..what about your stuff?" "You keep it," Jim said. He knew one of the suitcases had $100,000 in it. That should do as he walked alone into the thickening mist, hearing a wild horse in the distance and having no idea where he was going. He walked across the street and into the mist which wafted by him like sheets. His boots crunched in the grass until he came to a large natural pool. Jim often had sentient dreams. This was one of them. He stripped off his upper shirt, took off his boots, strapped the pants to his legs with the boot laces and dove into the water. He did not need air so he kept swimming down and across. The water was warm at times and other times cold...varying streams. A Leviathan come up from the bottom and swallowed him in a swift gulp. He panicked knowing what would happen...to be slowly disintegrated into sludgy dust and sediment. He beat against the beast from within, then gave up. Then he remembered at his ankle he had his scuba knife, The silver armband glowed and he cut a red slab from the beast as a warning. It thrashed, rose fast and puked him up on the beach. The black horse looked over his exhausted body and kicked him. Jim was enraged in the dream and flew up, dagger in hand upon the horse. He grabbed it's mane and yanked it back and held the knife to it's throat and whispered in it's ear..."Enough
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Whoregonia. You may win but I will rise." Then he woke up in a sweat. You were having a nightmare," Delphia said as she laced up her Keds. "Uh-oh," Jim said, still seeing the black horses nostrils flair in his head. "Uh no more anchovies on my pizza," he said and grinned. She wasn't buying it.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Jim called a staff meeting the next day after Jonathan's comedy routine which had recently lengthened to almost twenty minutes. He figured Jonathan would warm them up and he could then have a serious discussion. Jonathan had asked Maurice to help him work out a whacky musical Star Wars intro with sound effects over the PA, and when that was done he grabbed the microphone and said "Hello, I am George Lucas and welcome to Skywalker Ranch. We have just finished production of 2400 new Directors Cuts for the 6 Star Wars films which will now be available on DVD and Blu-ray making for a whopping 4800 versions available in our Amazon downloadable bundle called The Rainforests Big Dump Up came the music again and then Jonathan launched in..."Episode 4, Director's Cut 187: the "Renegade Droid Version" now available in this special collection! "C3PO, originally a hairstylist, with R2-D2 his professional styling caddie, is publicly ridiculed for his participation in Princess Leia's Horns 'O Plenty hairstyle debacle. When no one proves able to disassemble her braided pastry-like structures, the droids are arrested and scheduled for exile to the spice mines of Kesstle. "Oh what a joyfulness!" he said in Manfreds voice, but also as an extremely effeminate hair stylist. "The droids escape during the confusion of Vader's attack and plan to open a beautician's school in Mos Eisley. When 3PO and R2 discover rampant droid racism in the space port, they hire mysterious stranger Han Solo to bust up the locals and restore order and commerce. At the end of the film we see R2-D2, bitter and despairing over his lot in life, like a used up Ban-roll-on drinking himself to disassembly with gallons of WD-40 in his own private version of Leaving Mos Eisley." "But wait!," he Jonathan suddenly cried like the guy from TV "There's more!" Jim went around the back and hit the lower fridge and poured some cold white wine into a coffee
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mug. Suddenly Jonathan transformed himself into a sort of Robert Bly kind of guy on camera (relaxing in a chair being interviewed) "I just loved Joseph Campbell and his re-casting of the male myth of Iron Obi-Wan!" Jonathan exclaimed. Young Luke discovers the hairy man ...Chewbacca...at the bottom of a Sarlac pit and enlists his help. Chewie leads him to his male mother, or Iron Obi-Wan, who reveals that Luke's father, Darth Vader, and controlling twin sister, Leia, are responsible for abandoned him on the planet Tattoinne...which means never-ending ball of dust. After Luke, Han and Chewie have captured Leia from her father's death star and she says, 'Will someone get this big walking carpet out of my way,' Chewie demonstrates the Rite of the Hairy Man by ripping one of Leia's horns 'o plenty off the side of her head. Luke follows suit, thus enacting the breaking-away ritual from his controlling twin sister. True spiritual masculinity is re-established when Iron Obi-Wan defeats Lord Vader in battle and Luke self-publishes his first chapbook of poetry, Stories my Father Never Told Me." "Those are old!" Jeremy piped up. "What do you think of episode 3!?" "Well I only just saw it for the 37th time and I wondered Jeremy..." "Wondered what?" Jeremy yelled out. "Wondered about all the Jango Fetts Jeremy...all those clones...I mean what happens at Christmas for godssake? Can you imagine the mayhem under the tree as 45,000 Jangos tug at the presents and try and figure whose is what's? And....where's momma? Talk about your MOMMA Issues he said shaking his head. Jonathan was done and as he descended Jim was on his way up the stairs and they high-fived in passing. Jim looked out on really what he felt was Azotus...these people. He caught Maugham's smirk and how he and Martine banded close. He looked at Roo and how she smiled. Manfred was obviously looking for a way to steal the show, so Jim began. "Thank you for coming, not that you had much choice," he said. "I know some strange things have been going on lately but none of that really relates to you," Jim said. "You are really what Azotus is about and, hopefully, long after I am gone you and others like you will be making Azotus work in your own ways." "But Sahib!" Manfred protested, "You are not going away!" "No, Manfred, I had not planned on that, and if I did, how would you possibly maintain your considerable diet?" Manfred beemed at Jim.
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"So," he said pacing across the small stage, "what is Azotus to you?" They had gotten use to raising hands as it kept them from talking over each other. It was a sign of respect in a chaotic swirl that was often Azotus. "Roo," Jim said pointing. "This is my family, really," Roo said. There were many heads nodding. "It's about connecting with people in community and being present. I feel good when I get home because I have made people happy." Jim pointed to Renata after nodding. "I came here because I was desperate for a job. I had no idea the friends I would make or how Rand and I would be included." Jim pointed next to Jonathan who said "It's the STORIES..." in his Bill Murray voice. Then he waltzed around a bit (amidst giggling) "I've always wondered why I have lost women to guys...and girls...like you" he said with mock sincerity. "Like Manfred!...That time you stole Jennifer Connelly from Jim and did the whole Ben Kingsley/Ghandi thing?? I wanna party with you Sahib." Then Jonathan danced around the room as Manfred going "Ghandi-Gee, Ghandi-Gee, Ghandi-Gee...Gee-whiz...you are a genius!" he finished.. Then he took his seat while several staffers wiped their eyes. Jim was doubled over looking down. Manfred asked for his autograph. He looked up and spied Maugham. No...not yet. Then Ward. He pointed. "I am only here pretty much on weekends," Ward said. "But I get the flavor of all that goes on during the week and it amazes me. You people are fucking nuts!" More laughter. Then he sat down and Jim pointed to the large flatscreen monitor on stage for musical acts. It was Andy. He had a bad Webcam pointed at his head which made him look like Peter Jackson beaming in from New Zealand even though he was a mere 18 feet underneath them. The screen began to stripe with static and Jim said "Andy? Andy? I think we are losing you." "No Jim...yer not...I just added that...I thought it would look cool and like a movie." He fuzzed in
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Maugham looked at Martine and said "we should have sold tickets."
Chapter Fifty-Four
Andy faded in and faded out on the screen and most people got the joke. "Okay Andy," Jim said, "You've had yer fun." "Okay, okay...hey I like it but I think we could do more with the internet and I'd like to expand the IC into the next room." Hans stiffened more than usual, which made him almost a cadaver. "It's just Jim...shhhhhh....shhhhh....Jim?" "Yes Andy get on with it...we all know you can hear us just fine." "Heheh, Okay...I just really like the effects." Jim rolled his eyes and looked at Maugham like "if he keeps this up you are going down." "Well if we had another ten cpus and room we could do killer LAN games...that's all...like 24/7. I'd promise not to sleep...much." "Good deal Andy...we'll get back with you," Jim said and Hans almost fainted. Next, Jim called on Jeremy. "What do you think hotshot?" "I want a pole that comes down from The Doghouse into the Batcave." Jim walked over to the side of the stage... "like about here and 20 feet down?" "Yeah," Jeremy said. "I already thought about it...not gonna happen, but I like the idea. Stick to mousetraps," he said smiling. In the back of the room Jim saw Maurice had let himself in and standing next to him was Ted. "You two...in the back" Jim said. "You two are as much a part of what we do here as we are. What is Azotus to you?" This was an unbelievable risk by Jim. Maugham looked at him like "idiot".
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Ted spoke up first. "Look I know a lot of you do not like me or beliefs. That's fine. And I have not always been nice. I believe what I believe. Jim and others believe what they believe. My belief is better," he said then there was silence. "I'm kidding," Ted said, and the room broke up more than it had before like a giant exhalation. Ted smiled and then he turned to Maurice and said "speak brother". "Well first you people are nuts," Maurice said. "But the Rev. Tanka felt at home here and he never really had him a home. You all came out and loved him, and hugged him..an" Maurice teared up and could not continue. He choked a bit and the room got very quiet and heads went down. Jonathan felt bad because he did his imitations. Maurice sucked it up. "You folks gave him a place to be with others in his last years. I know Jim came and visited him every day that he was in the hospital. Most of you do not, or would not know that." "Oh fuck" thought Jim. "But he made peace and you all helped him make that peace." Ted spoke up again. "Rev. Tanka also helped me find a little peace myself. That could not have happened without this place." Jim was stymied. This was not what he had planned or wanted. It just was what it was. He thanked everyone for coming and for being so open. As he passed Maugham he whispered "Where are the 3 Stooges when you need them?" Then he gripped Maurice's wide paw and gave him a hug and looked back at Ted and gave him a serious nod. Then he nearly ran downstairs to get away from it all.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Jim locked up the Gallery and ran through the darkroom and slumped against the doors. He chose door 2 and quickly slipped in. He fell on the ground and started to cry. It came in waves and he felt like a drowning man as it washed over him. The voices and concerns and hearts and minds and the past and the present and
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He rose and walked to the bookshelves and mocked them. "What DAMNED good are you!!!?" He slung over to the bar and got a glass of wine and took his shirt off and hit the floor. He thought about the dream the night before and the horse and the embrace of the old man and he cried out aloud "WHY!!!!!?" He slumped and took up the remote and asked HAL for Rattle and Hum. He fast-forwarded past Desire and others to Angel of Harlem...the song about Billie Holiday. Such a beauty with such passion yet so ruined by the world. God knows they got to you...Angel in Devil's shoes... Angel of Harlem
He sucked down the glass and poured another with self-malice. Suddenly sadness filled the room. Light guitar and harmonica and the words sung by Bono... Love rescue me Come forth and speak to me Raise me up And don't let me fall No man is my enemy My own hands imprison me Love rescue me Many strangers have I met On the road to my regret Many lost who seek to find themselves in me They ask me to reveal the Very thoughts they would conceal Love rescue me. Jim heard a knock on the door. He knew who it was. It comforted him. Always Maugham. What would Maugham do when he was gone?
Chapter Fifty-Six
Maugham came in slowly and said "You okay chief?"
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"Not so very good Maug," Jim said and gave him a hug. "C'mon in." This wouldn't be the last time Jim wished he were Maugham. Wished he had his clarity, simplicty, yet also depth. But he was thankful Maugham had it for himself. They went and sat down on the floor and Jim pointed the control at HAL and started to tell Maugham how to run the entire complex. "Stop. Stop! "Maugham said after a few minutes. "You are not going anywhere." "Maybe not, maybe so," Jim said seriously. "In either event I need you to know everything because if I go, or anything happens to me, this is all yours." He got up and went over to a safe in the wall and hit the tumblers, opened the small door and took out a packet. He tossed it in Maugham's lap. "Fuck you man," Maugham said. "You are not doing this." "Do you love me Maug?" "You know the answer to that Bro," Maugham said steely. "Do you love me?" "Hey, what am I St. Peter here? You damn well know I love you. Always have and always will." "Then do this for me." "Maugham grimaced and opened the packet as on the large screen Peter Gabriel and others hopped around to Shaking the Tree. Maugham read the thing fast and surmised. "Would you stop being so secretive Jim! It's me for crissake!" Jim leaned heavy against the top of a heavy bookshelf then spoke, "What do you want to know?" "Who is it?" "It's Candace," he said flatly. "Sure?"
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"Not that hard up at the moment cowboy," Jim said turning. Maugham ran through the scenario in his head for a few minutes while Jim pointed at HAL and ordered up Ultarvox's live version of Reap the Wild Wind. The tumblers clicked in Maugham's head, and he looked up several times to start a question, but then worked it out and continued. At the end he simply asked "why?" "Money and hate," Jim said. "We made a lot of money in a business deal in 1998. I made more. I made a lot more and she resented it. She really put the screws to me at the time and I made what I thought a fair offer. Apparently she doesn't think so now in retrospect." "But where would Candice get the resources to do something like this?" "I know you did not know her well at all, but Candice has a way of getting anything she really wants. She can be utterly seductive." "I admit she was a looker," Maugham said...then he thought back to one of the last times her saw her. He had given it no mind. He knew she and Jim were long since through and Jim had asked him to take her home at the end of a book premiere. She was drunk and he almost had to carry her up the stairs. When they got inside he laid her down on the long soft bed bed and took off her boots. She suddenly looked up at him, stripped off her top and bra leaving only her dark blue jeans. Then she laid back. He looked at her and she laughed and then said "Maug...Baby, I want you to do me like a wild animal." Maugham had only known Jim a number of months and he knew it was over with this woman. She was utterly desireable. She writhed and purred suggestively and touched her own robust breasts and circled her own dark nipples. Then she reached down and undid the top button of her jeans and said "honey" in a warm voice. "Sweetheart, yer drunk," Maugham said and he pulled back the covers and tried to tuck her under when she exploded in anger. "Don't fucking touch me you asshole!" Maugham rolled his eyes and did a little self-check "yeah buddy, always trust your higher brain capacity." "You bastard! she yelled.
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"Sweetheart, I know who my parents were" he said with a pirate smile. Then he reached down and put his hand under her back and kissed her hard on the mouth, then moved down to her nipple and gave it a small bite and she moaned. Then he stood up and said, "That's for fucking with me. Have a nice life." As he walked down the hall her could hear her coming after him. When he got to the door she caught up with him. He took her by the wrists and lay her down on the couch. "Go to sleep," he commanded and then left. He never gave her another thought. Not till now, some seven years later. "Jacob?" Maugham asked. "She ever come on to you Maug?" Jim said slyly. Maugham laughed. "Yeah, but I sensed...well...you know..." "That's my Jedi," Jim laughed. Maugham laughed too. "God Jim she had a way about her...but damned dangerous. She is a dark Jedi." "Still is and does," Jim said. "I believe she is capable of anything. I just cannot figure out why she has made no demands. She obviously gets some perverse pleasure out of trying to haunt us." "You mean you," Maugham smiled. "No, I think she's got a little thing for you too," Jim said. "Now come next door. I want to tell you more."
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Andy brought out his prized plants and laid them, tray after tray on the long tables usually laid out with keyboards. The keyboards were tucked behind the towers and monitors and he had a captive audience of 8 volunteers. Each of them had been studying ornamental horticulture online and had also been preparing the various planter beds around the grounds. Jonathan had provided rich compost and helped them work it into the soil, then he had laid mulch over the top. Today was the day. Andy's robust plants were amazing and strong and would populate the whole grounds with vegetables, flowers and many growing and flowering vines. He had managed, in his small space, to actually produce over 400 healthy plants ready for planting.
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Over the next 6 hours, his band of helpers would set in the earth plants that would transform, in just a few months, the whole look and feel of Azotus and its many-tiered grounds. Andy was proud and Jim has sent him a note wishing him well on the endeavor and also promising to visit with him soon. Jim apologized for being self-absorbed as of late and hoped that Andy would forgive him.
Hans heard the door click in the back and heard Jim and Maugham talking as they went in the last door. "Just perfuckt," he said to himself and then went back to studying a book on Munch. Down the long corridor and spilling into Silo 3 Maugham said "you are a fucking maniac." "You likey?" Maugham walked around the third of a room that was divided by a long trench that was filled with water and illuminated. On the Northern wall the surface was like onyx...some kind of dark black polymer that was smooth yet non-reflective. Inlayed into the wall were various fishtanks with saltwater fish. Each one end to end down the way." "Planning on opening a Walmart?" Maugham joked. Jim didn't answer. Instead he hit a side panel and grabed a Negro Modelo and gave one to Maugham. Then he rolled up his pant legs and dropped his legs down into the long trench where he sat. Maugham came over and simple stretched his legs over the trench looked down and said. "So you gotta fish fetish?" "I admit I find water comforting. We all came from water Maug. It's a wider vehicle than you might know," Jim said, then he felt a bit foolish. "Look I am sorry I have not been forthcoming. I just got use to keeping things to myself and it became habit. It was unnecessary with you, to be sure, and also others." "What happened to you man?" "That doesn't matter now. What matters is what is, and what is now," he said. "And this room is for you Maugham and the woman you love." "You want me to live here in fish-land?" Jim got up and stepped over the larger part of the expansive room. He hit a wall panel and the
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otherwise empty room moved in various directions. "So you have two Batcaves." Maugham said flat and even. "Look Maug," Jim said softly, "I build this in hopes that one day I might live here with someone I love. But that hasn't happened. If anything happens I want you to have this place...really everything." "You want me to sleep in that...your bed?" "No one has ever slept in it Maug." Jim said. "In fact, no one has really ever lived in this space. I just come here and feed the fish. Stephano cleans the tanks and does maintenance." "Who is Stephano!!!?" "Oh crap. Yeah, of course, you know the guy who comes in at night to do my private books?" Jim said. "I kinda have him really do everything down here in the Silos instead. Runs the whole pleace. You knowoutta sight, outta mind" "Fuck me," Maugham fuming. That does not make me happy Jim. I apologize Jim said. I am clearly in the wrong. But you did meet him. They sat there for awhile. There is other stuff, but I figure you have figured that stuff out and dont wanna push. I appreciate that. Like the drinking, Maugham said. Like the drinking. Jim said. We can talk about THAT when this is over. I promise. "Look why don't we just go to the police and have them investigate Candice?" "For what? For being bitter about something that happened seven years ago? I had half hoped that blowing up my car would be enough...but then I was not sure it was her at all then." "Now you are?" "Yes. She's not Rnonymous anymore to me."
Chapter Fifty-Eight
In the other Batcave, Matisse was finishing her artwork and she sat down in a chair in the corner and looked off. Jeremy came over and said "Matty, what's up sweetheart?"
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"My Papi is sad," she said. "I'm not sure how to help him," she said. "I give him hugs and make him laugh, but he is different lately." Jeremy made a mental note to talk with Jim. Just then Sex came in and Jeremy gave her his full attention. "Lucille did great work today," he said, giving her the once over as she looked for her kids. She turned to him and quietly said, "You are hot Jeremy." He smiled. Then she said "But this ain't for you. Look, but don't touch." He blushed and looked at his shoes. He was a sweet kid.
Simon had decided to pitch in and help Maurice with funeral arrangements for Rev. Tanka. There was really not much to do, but he felt Maurice needed someone to share the burden with and he had the time and inclination. Upstairs Renata suddenly got sick and had to go in the back. She puked. Hans walked in and said "Dis is vat sex does darling. You make luff, you puke, zen za baby comes." Then he got her some cold water and took up her station so she could be alone. Ted showed up at 7 p.m. to sit and think through what a dinner with Jim might look like. He felt a bit shaken by recent events. It had not changed his mind, but he was less sure. He and Tanka had spent some interesting time before he had died and he wasn't sure what to do with any of it. Jim came in at 6:45 and nodded at Ted and checked with the staff to make sure all was covered. It was. In fifteen minutes a local novelist named Mitchell Loyd was doing a lecture and Jim wished he could be two places at once. But he couldn't si he went and fetched Ted. "Manfred?" he called out. "Yes Sahib?" "Can you please bring the car around...er...the Jeep?" "Oh yes Sahib!! Joy of joys and a wonderfulness!" then he scampered off. Ten minutes later Jim and Ted were headed down the road to Max's.
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Jim finally spoke. "I really appreciate all you did with the good reverend Ted." Ted looked apprehensive and straight ahead. "Was he what you expected?" Jim finally asked as they pulled into the parking lot. "I knew you would ask that," Ted said defensively. "Just a question, bro," he said with a hint of sarcasm. Ted lightened. They went inside and Jim order a nice bottle of wine before Ted could protest. "It'll hurt but it wont kill," he said to Ted. Then he followed with "Name that author." "How would I know?" ted asked. "Oh you know this author quite well, in fact you have read this book." Ted racked his brain. Nothing. The waitress came with their wine and Jim tasted it and said "yes, please do pour." and can we get some potato skins and two shrimp cocktails?" "Yes, of course," she smiled. "How did you know I like shrimp?" Ted asked. "Just a guess. Now think ted...piece of fiction and he has a lizard on his shoulder," Jim said. Ted laughed, "okay, okay..its Lewis." he said. "Yes, Jim smiled. Book?" "The Great Divorce," Jim said. "One of my favorites. "Mine too," Jim said taking a drink.
Maugham was still down in Silo 3 reviewing the considerable paperwork, schematics and detailed instructions. "Where does the man get the time?" he wondered. He finally walked over to the edge of the long trench and looked at the koi in the long pool. They were beautiful. The room was expansive. He suddenly remembered his dream from weeks ago. He went over to a
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small side room that was obviously for supplies and found a box of tea candles and he lighted about 30 of them around the room and turned the lights down and laid back on the virgin bed and took it all in. He thought about Martine, and then about Candice and how different a species they were. He would find a way to defeat Candice. This was Jim's room, and his life. He did love Jim. He loved him as much as his own life. He was not sure how that had happened, but somehow Jim had gotten under his skin and then wrapped himself around his pirate's heart. While he would take a bullet for Jim he'd much rather deliver it to his enemies instead.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
It was the most surprising dinner of his life Ted thought later. Jim had suggested the broiled salmon or the steak with brie, and Ted had opted for the steak. The shrimp cocktails came and the potato skins and they had full helpings and Jim asked Ted about his own upbringing and interest in theology in a non-intrusive way. When Ted's glass was empty, Jim was careful to fill it if the waitress did not. When Ted got testy and tried to argue at one point, Jim simply said "Ted, just for tonight, let's share what we have in common. Tomorrow we can go back to the old paradigm if you want...but we have this dinner together. Let's enjoy it, okay?" "Okay, sure Jim," Ted said. "But I'll kick yer butt tomorrow." "Fair enough," Jim said and then their meals arrived. Jim asked Ted what authors he liked beside Lewis. He took note in his head. "Can I ask you a personal question?" Jim finally said. "Sure Jim," Ted said a little tipsy from the wine. "What touched you about the Rev. Tanka?" Ted was silent for a moment. He was not quite sure. Then he said "He seemed, toward the end to have one foot in and one foot out," he said. "It was weird," Ted said. "And he had me read him from the book you gave him by that Feminist Pinko Radical Lamott."
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Jim laughed. "yeah...well what did he, or you think?" "Well it was sweet kinda," Ted said suddenly serious. " The story of being on the plane...and the other one about the man with AIDS." Yeah I like those too," Jim said. "Just like I like Lewis. Maybe we have more in common than we think Ted." "I doubt it" Ted said suddenly. "How is your steak?" Jim asked. "It's good, thanks," he said chewing away healthily.
Mitchell Lloyd had long since finished his presentation in the Azotus Library. He went out on the deck with a diet coke and looked at the stars. He sat down with his journal and pulled the candle closer so he could see and write in his journal. Delphia was looking for Jim but could not find him. He had given her access to the Bunkhouse anytime and she went in, laid down, kicked up her Keds on the end and picked up his Buechner book again and read the following from it: The first stage of love is to believe that there is only one kind of love. The middle stage is to believe that there are many kinds of love and that the Greeks had a different word for each of them. The last stage is to believe that there is only one type of love.
She thought about Jacob and missed him. She thought about the puzzle that was Jim. She wondered how she would learn to love herself, but she steeled herself to do so.
Chapter Sixty-Four
The next morning both rooms were hopping with business. Many of the regulars were there. Alice and Fred were in the corner talking, and when Jim had a spare minute he went over and talked with them and asked Fred about some help he might need doing some interior work. Fred agreed to stop by on Monday afternoon. "What about me?!" Alice blustered.
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"Okay, okay," Jim said. "I know I owe you. Why dont you come with Fred on Monday and we will pick a section near the front of the complex, or perhaps a side area where people can enjoy a pool or fountain," he said. Alice grinned. "Bout time!" she chuckled and went back to her pumpkin bread satisfied. Manfred came by and Jim called to him. "Yes, Sahib?!" "Manfred here's a list of ingredients a need by Wednesday. No hurry, just when you are in town please pick that up with the rest of the private food and your gallons of ice cream." "Mocha Almond Fudge Sahib!". By this point Jim had gotten a credit card for Manfred and he had explained to him its limits. To his knowledge this one was area that Manfred was scrupulous in. The Cafe was doing very well financially, and raises had been given quietly and without fanfare to all on staff. Jim had also begun to work on getting healthcare for all full timers and hoped to be able to afford a co-pay situation for part-timers. He also was interviewing, as he could, someone to replace his shift as he had other projects in mind, the most significant being opening three more Azotus Cafe's in various urban locations. It would be very hard work, but he knew now it could work. He had already asked Ward if he could cover some of his own shifts and he could do a few, but not all. Jim used those Tuesday and Wednesday mornings to interview potential managers. Of course Roo was the obvious choice, but he wanted her for another city and to be the head honcho, really his Vice President. He had thought about Maugham, but was unwilling to part with him, especially given the sidebar activities. Renata would need to stay here and would be on leave. Still she was a viable candidate. In his mind, Martine would replace Roo when she left (and he was thinking of Santa Cruz, Portland, and San Francisco for the first three). He was making a double mocha half chocolate for a new customer when Maugham came in distressed. He came around the bar and whispered in Jim's ear. Jim stiffened. "Martine? Can you finishing helping this gentleman?" He asked steady, then he and Maugham left quickly out the door. Down the stairs Maugham said more. "They found his body washed up at China Camp Beach. They think you and I may have had something to do with it."
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"Relax cowboy," Jim said. "We have nothing to hide and you know who is behind this. Poor Jacob." There was a plain clothes detective and a street cop. Jim introduced himself and they went and sat at the stone table near the IC and talked. Jim and Maugham listened intently, then led the officers upstairs to the Ops and showed them the series of emails. They had printed them out and had them in a binder. The officer asked if he could take them and Jim readily agreed, gave him a card with his personal cell number on it and agreed to help in any way he could. He had walked them through his own process and how he had concluded it was Candice Broyon. No, he did not know where she lived now, but all things seemed to point to her. The fact that his car had been destroyed by a bomb lent credence to his story. "Obviously Detective Vorosko I do not want to frighten my patrons with this, but if it will help you I can get you in touch with a few of the regulars. They will tell you what a wonderful man Jacob was how he was loved by everyone here." "Loved huh?" the Detective asked. Jim smiled, "I only mean he was appreciated by many. He led discussions and was really a part of this community." When the officers left Maugam and Jim went down into Silo 2 and had a heart to heart. "She is fucking nuts!" Maugham yelled. "She killed him...why?" "I think she is sociopath," Jim said clearly. "One of the reasons I ended it so quickly and decisively was because on a number of occasions I sensed she had no moral center at all. She just drew a blank. All that mattered was what she wanted. Even when we made love it was really just fucking. I could have been anyone, except we had our business dealings. Even in that I suspected she would have slit my throat if I had I not been careful to protect my assets and majority share. That's when she would use her body and made wild promises about loving me forever, when in fact she loves no one, not even herself." "Nice sermon Jim," Maugham said slyly. "Okay, okay," Jim thought. "Maybe we are going about this wrong. Do a wide web search for the name 'alabaster". Look in chat rooms...look for people who have been burned by someone using that handle. It's an old nickname. Look on any Internet dating sites for anyone with that handle or part of it. We have been searching around the outer branches and leaves, we need to find the roots." Maugham perked up and said that sounded good.
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"Oh, and Fred and Alice are coming down here on Monday," Jim said. "Fred and Alice?" Maugham said. "You wait a couple years to tell me, Manfred knows all along and now Fred and Alice?" "We are making changes my friend," Jim said gently. "I'm not going anywhere, at least not permanently. This place will stay my personal study and my new Ops. I am integrating. The rest of Ops will be moved into Silo 1 which will be your personal office and space. Use it how you wish and work with Fred on modifications if you need any. The old Ops will be converted into living space for you and Martine." Maugham was impressed. His only concern had been what he saw as a fatalism in Jim that now seemed gone. Maugham didn't want Azotus if it meant Jim not being there. But with Jim opening up his world and Maugham having fresh digs he was pretty happy. "Okay Jim," Maugham smiled. "I like it. How soon can I setup in Silo 1?" "How about right now," Jim said. "Take the first three of the four towers and the flat screens and move them down right now. I'll show you the rest of the devices available to you and I'll get you a key. Really Maug...it's your space now. Just have Manfred bring the last tower and flat screen down here for me." "Done Jim," Maugham said then started to leave. "Oh and Maug," Jim said, and Maugham turned back. "When the time comes for you to marry her, let me do the ceremony." Maugham smiled broadly. "It's that obvious huh?" "Is to me brother."
Chapter Sixty-Five
Later, Maugham and Manfred were joined by Stephano, and the three of them huffed and puffed while setting up equipment in Silo 1 and Silo 2. Jim went out in the Gallery and asked Hans to follow him into Silo 2. Hans looked bewildered when he walked in and saw the room. "Diss is for storage?" "No, Hans. It's my new office. We are expanding and going into new ventures." "It's is vonderful!" he marvelled. "I luff vat you have done with da lamps," he cooed.
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"Come sit down Hans," Jim said motioning to a chair on the other side of the deck. "You are going to fire me," Hans said sadly. "I knew it." "No Hans," Jim said. "I am promoting you to be my personal secretary. It's not enough work for full-time so you can run the Gallery as well. I'd like you to do both. Will you agree?" "It vill be more money, no?" "A little, yes Hans. And no more bussing tables. You will be here during normal business hours with two hours lunch every day because I may need you some evenings for a bit. Does that work for you?" "I get to organize?" Hans said with one eyebrow arching. "Yes, I would like that very much Hans." "Zen I agree Jim." "There will be a lot more foot traffic through here, so you will need to be flexible." "I understand perfucktly Jim." Hans said. Just then Manfred came in with the Tower and while putting it down it landed on his foot. Manfred shrieked and hopped around. "Dance of Shiva," Jim said quietly. "No Ghandi-Gee now," Hans said even quieter and they both shared a smirk.
Maugham setup in Silo One. A long black table, the three towers underneath, three flat panel monitors and keyboards on the desk with mice. He also brought down his big leather chair. Jim came in a quickly gave him a more full tour. The main lighting was from the white panels against the North wall, but it was enough and made it cave like. The three monitors displayed The matrix screensavers and cooled, well, cool. The black table actually came out from the wall, as did a number of other things. Jim looked sheepishly at Maugham. "Not a word of this stuff to anyone, right?"
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Maugham had been right the first time he saw the room. It was a little James Bond-like. Though small the walls hid recessed panels. An industrial sized refrigerator, that was lightly stocked. A small room with a fax machine, two cellphones, Bluetooth headsets, a Blackberry, two digital cameras, a bagged SLR with various lenses and a small cache of film. There was an HP laptop that had never been used but was always charged and an iPad. Then on the right was a dizzying array of connectors, cables and cords for any occasion. There was a bank of rechargible batteries of all sizes and cradles. It was "Nerd Paradise" thought. Maugham. Jim invited Maugham to the far Eastern wall and he pushed another black panel and the door hissed open. It was musty with only old small lights down a dank hallway. When they walked about 30 or yards they turned right and came upon the elevator. "You must be joking'" Maugham said. "Then Jim gave him two keys. "This is to your office. This is to this elevator. Not that we need it now, but you can take a look in the viewscreen here and see if anyone is in it. Only the key will bring it down here. There is a keyhole in the elevator that automatically takes you down here. It's the only way." "What happened to you dude?" "That's a question for another day my friend," Jim said. "Let's just say I am making a major comeback." No one was in the elevator, so Maugham used the key and a minute or so later the doors opened and they climbed in. They rode up and it stopped at floor one and Jonathan looked surprised when the doors opened and it was occupied. "We forgot our keys," Maugham said, and they rode up.
It was late Sunday and Jim was down in Silo 2 studying alabaster on his own. Only it was not the same alabaster Maugham was searching for in Silo 1. Different contexts entirely. Jim had decided to let Maugham handle the investigation and look for the Alabaster who was trying to kill him. He could be more objective, and he was shrewda lot more than Jim. He had
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no reason to think Detective Vososko was anything but a good policeman and no reason to suspect he would not be a genuine help. If you had asked Jim a year earlier how he would have felt about opening up his life the ways he had recently done he would have been dead set against it He really could not account for the change of heart and mind. It was just time. To make a change. Jim found his own source on alabaster, an old book on ancient Middle Eastern perfumes that was dust covered and sat down to pour over the material and type into his iBook. He smiled because it had absolutely nothing at all to do with the woman in any way shapre or form. It was just ironic. Next door Maugham had done several hundred independent searches, across several search engines. He had signed on to several search services and laid in what he could. He started to get results after 30 minutes. It was not easy. There were towns named alabaster, companies, old lamps, sculptures, even old Bible stories. But Maugham did find a promising strain finally. It was from 2001 and a man in Sacramento had complained bitterly on a few chatboards about a woman named "Alabaster99". Maugham decided to take the strain and focus on that as a lead and also did searches with other years added on. He started playing with other variations, but printed up any leads and taped them to the wall with notes. Around midnight, he saw Martine at the door in sweats. "So how are Batman and Robin doing?" Maugham smiled. "Sorry baby. Last thing I knew it was 3 p.m.". She came in and sat on the floor. "Nice Oro-fice" she said. "You searching for babes on the Internet?" "In a manner of speaking," he said. "Look I got some good news to share with you, but can you do me a favor and get Jim from next door?" "Now I am Alfred the Butler?" Maugam gave her a look and she said "okay, okay," and bounded up the stairs to fetch Jim. Creeping into Silo 2 Martine had the same reaction Matisse had had. Jim looked up and said "How are you sister?" "You really are weird Jim," she said.
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"Yeah, I get that a lot. Hey come here and have a look at this." He showed her a collection of photographs of old alabaster vials used to hold perfume and spices. "They are beautiful," she said. "Here look at this one," he said grabbing the book and thumbing to page 346. A beautiful vial shaped like a woman with dark handles that swirled around it's white sides. "Isn't that great?" he smiled. "Lovely," she said. Then she sighed. "You know sometimes this place moves a little too fast for me." "I know, Tis true. What's up?" "Maug needs you next door," she said "and if you keep spending so much time with him I am going to get jealous." "No you won't. That's all being handled."
Chapter Sixty-Six
Maugham slumped into bed at 4:30 a.m. and Martine nuzzled him. Jim fell asleep on the air mattress at 2 a.m. and had no dreams at all. Two hours later, Maugham, bleary-eyed got into a cold shower and dosed himself but good. He howled under the merciless cold and Martine stirred, then he got out and toweled off and crouched down beside her sweet face, stroked her cheek and said "Time to get up honey. We got a full day." "No," she protested, "come back to bed and make love to me." How about a date tonight?' he said. I'll take you out for Thai food, and I'll even dress up." "What about work?" "I'll get folks to cover us for tonight." Then he kissed her gently on the forehead, rose and slapped her feet on the way out. "Get up!" "Ass!" Down in Silo 1 Maugham was making progress. He had a string of chat room messages, two Blog posts and he had turned to the dating sites and was feverishly playing all three towers like like an experienced grandmother on a bank of slot machines.
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Hundreds, then thousands of pictures....blaster, bambaster, alacandacter, alabaster7, candibaster, dicemaster, alabamamaster,baster37, etc....then searched for age ranges, hair type, body type, regions, etc... Deadly woman in a sea of haystacks. Then he hit it. RCane There was her picture on the screen on a rather explicit adult site. Her long blond hair flowed over her shoulders. They next picture was of her in a shower showing all her curves. The last was just a shot of her eyes, mouth and large full breasts and long stomach. "Gotcha!" Maugham said. Then his shoulders slumped. Location? Northern California Occupation? Personal Then the rest of the questions said: Ask me later. But he noted her last sign on had been 3 days ago. He bet she got a lot of responses, particularly because her profile said she liked older men, and had the sex drive of two men combined. Maugham conferred with Jim and they set out a plan. Maugham would route all of his work through old friends of Jim's. One was a software executive in Atlanta; the second a genius machinist in Colorado; the third his friend Spence in Maine, and lastly Gabriel in Seattle. They would only use each one when needed and start one at a time In all cases the profiles Maugham setup would be masked as they were run through other servers. Maugham asked about a possible location in Sacramento and after a call to Jim's friends JJ and Charles, that too was setup with actual hands on immediate capability as if they were there. Now they hunkered down and started to work on scripting a plan. The core of Jim's approach was to make use of Candice's utter lack of conscience. That was her strength but also her blind spot. "You could drive a car through that blindspot" Jim had said and Maugham thought back to that night with her trying to draw him in and he muttered, "yeah.... a car. Sounds about right."
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Later that day Alice and Fred came by. When Jim brought them into Silo 1 Maugham barked "Not now!" as he pasted more information on the wall. Silo 1 had become a War Room. Nothing needed to happen to Silo 2, so Jim took them to Silo 3 and explained the modifications
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that he wanted to the room. Fred took notes while Alice walked around looking at someone else's waterworks. "Not bad Jim," she said. "And you said you didnt have any money." "I didn't when I finished," Jim said. "But I'm better now. I have only $42,000 allocated for both projects...Fred's and yours." Fred came over and said "Well upstairs is a no brainer as stuff just needs to be stripped out. I mean, behind the one curtain you have a small kitchen set with plumbing already. I can have Jonathan do most of the work and you just pay him." Fred smiled. "As for in here, yeah...the main cost is the support beam across the two load bearing walls. Alice here can give me a deal on a stone slab to be a bridge for your little girl." With that Alice looked up at him like "give him a deal?" "So I come in at around $13,000 for labor and materials and it will take just a few days. "That leaves $29,000 for me," Alice grinned. "Almost," Jim said. Then he took them into Silo 1 past Maugham and down the tunnel to near the elevator. "Fred, how much to wall off the dirt over there and seal the floor?" "Well you have good support beams and it's only a few feet high. Do you want to level out the area once the dirt is contained?" "Yes, and then I want you to cut a small door, of maybe 5 feet tall into this wall," Jim said. "Note sure that will up to code." "It's for storage only" Jim winked. "Gotcha." Alice looked at Jim with a keen eye. "So what are we looking at now?" Fred thought about it and said "$20,000 if Maugham has no needs." Alice was less pleased. "Okay, so that gives me $22,000. Can we go look at the grounds now?" "Sure...ah Fred?"
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The next morning Ward was steaming mochas and lattes while Jim readied himself to do interviews. He would do first interviews up in the cafe and make them quick. Those who passed would get a more formal interview scheduled through Hans. Hans was quite pleased when a new desk was delivered and phone system installed in the Gallery. He looked around at the paintings he loved so much and at the dark red/brown painted and "distressed" floor and how ordered his new desk was and he smiled. "Perfuckt." That morning a retired history professor was giving a small lecture in the Library on Modernism and Jim had suggested, indirectly, that Ted might want to attend. He did. He also was still considering Jim's unusual offer. It didn't make sense to him, but he was intrigued. Sex sat over at a table by the window with Templar who was telling her a story about his last trip to Jamaica. Rand got up after awhile and went over to sit with Maurice and see how he was doing. Andy's plants continued to thrive and grow around the grounds at a remarkable rate. Mrs. Furnst, one of the volunteer gardeners, was out around the long lean flower bed picking out snails. "Little fuckers" she said as she tossed them not sweetly down the hillside.
Jim sat at a table by the wall and went over his questions. The first interviewee was a thin blond-haired man named Tim who was a bit hyper for Jim who felt there were enough "characters" around. He wanted settled-ness and an ability to be with people that exceeded his own. The second person he interviewed was a tall dark-haired woman named Rachel. She was unusual right from the start. She had a calm way with people, but was also not hard or cynical. She had vast experience as a major Sales Representative for a pharmaceutical company. "Why get out of your line of work?" he asked point blank. "I do not like where I see them going," she said calmly. Then she laughed. "It's not all that
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"Why would you consider this job at 80% of what you are paid now and many more hours?" "I'm intrigued by your philosophy," she said. "And I am just considering. I won't leave the other unless this is really right for me." "It's all about you," Jim said off hand. "Why of course sweetie," she said, the disarming way people do who work all day long with people. Jim liked that. He noted it. Second interview.
Ked Woman had, of course, heard about Jacob and it had deeply disturbed her. She put a call into Jim that Sunday night and they had talked on the phone. Jim listened and made sure to tell her how much Jacob had meant to them both and how much he cherished her. "Can I come and just sleep next to you sometime this week?" "Yes, of course. I would love that and it would do me good as well," he said. "I am making changes Delphia, and that opens things up. Why don't you come late tonight and I'll make you a quiet breakfast in the morning?" "Yes, I think so." "Okay...but downstairs. Um....just meet me at 10:30 upstairs." "What if I don't" "Then you don't. I'll wait till 10:45 then you won't find me." "Won't find you?" "I'm getting slipperier all the time," Jim joked. "Oh baby, I'll find you," They both laughed and rang off.
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Out on the grounds Alice's mind was raking the landscape with imagination. "NO, no no..." she kept saying. It was near noon and Jim looked at Fred who nodded back. Jim left and came back with two beers. Alice didn't drink. Jim looked at Fred and he looked back like "Well, we do."
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Alice did some sketches and suggested a long trough be built with one small slotted groove and the other flatter to be filled with beach pebbles and glass. The long slope down would empty into a medium sized pool with a filteration system at the medway part of the long path on the North side. It was not a path often used, but there were tables, and with the addtional features Jim felt Alice was right in seeing it as a new attraction. From the pool at midway, it would spill over three small spillways into a continuation of the same slotted groove and the other two which spilled over another 100 yards of pebbles and glass to the bottom pool. From there the water would be pumped back up thorugh pipes to the top and recycled. The triangular area inbetween was half covered by an ancient oak and Alice thought that there was enough sun to place some smaller Japanese elms, ground cover, some iron art and her signature lighted crystal art in the center. "What's the long slotted thing for?" Jim asked. Alice played with him. "You mean this?" pointing to the diagram. "Where it ramps around the middle pool and slopes down the long drive home?" Jim sensed he was being fucked with. "Yes." "That's for your balls Jim," she laughed. Remembering the Mousetrap crochet golf Jim just doubled over. When he stopped laughing he said "okay, okay...yes..leave it in. How much?" "I'll come in at $22k. But I need fifteen k of it up front." "Okay, come upstairs and I will write you a check you can cash today."
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Detective Voloslovky was not pleased as he reviewed the letters. He didn't necessarily doubt that Rnonymous might be the Broyon woman, but her last note seemed to point to the two men as potential culprits. But what was their motive? He decided to call on a few of the folks Jim had given him numbers for. The first was Delphia Gabriel. He knew from brief interviews that she and Jacob had been an item. That afternoon Hans had scheduled two appointments. One was with Rachel Williams, the other with Dirk Cateson. Both were excellent candidates and Jim thought that perhaps one would work out running Azotus here and the other might be potential material for Santa Cruz, or San Francisco. He thought of Roo as Bostonian. She had the stuff. Maugham was done in Silo One obsessing over details. Jim came in and asked how it was going. "I have setup identities, photos, answers and various background details that are not at all related," Maugham said. "So are you having any fun yet?" "Nope," but I will when it's over. "How's your writing coming along?" "Oh I took a month off," Maugham said. "They are re-running old pieces from The Coffeehouse Diaries." "Well I've got an interview or two the next hour or so. Let's catch up when that's done." Jim left up the stairs and signalled to Hans to give him five minutes. Jim's phone rang and it was Delphia. "I'm a little disappointed in you," she said. Jim kicked his desk. "I'm sorry Del," he said. "I spaced." "Yeah, well I'm gonna tell the policeman all about it," she chided. "Called ya huh?" "Yeah. He'll be here in an hour." "All I told him was you knew each other and that were a regular here. Figured you can tell him what ya like. Personally, I'd tell him everything."
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"I'll tell him you stand up beautiful sexy women," she said. "Yes, on occasion," said Jim. "But always to my own detriment."
Dirk Cateson was ushered into Jim's office at 1:00 p.m. sharp by Hans, who had suddenly taken to wearing a dressed shirt and tie. He shook Dirk's hand and welcomed him to sit down then called after Hans. "Nice tie Hans." "Sank you Jim," Hans said. Dirk was new to the area from Fresno and had good management experience. He had a degree in history and Jim asked him what his specialty was. The interview veered off from there, but Jim was more interested in the man and how versatile he could be. Dirk had studied Russian literature and they had a nice chat about Pasternak. Jim asked if Dirk had read Thomas Merton's long essay on Doctor Zhivago, and Dirk admitted he didn't even know it existed but that he had, of course, heard of Merton. Jim walked over to the bookshelves and selected the book of essays called Disputed Questions and gave it to Dirk. "I'd like to loan this to you. It's germane to our discussion and you will enjoy it." Dirk was surprised. "Thanks. Does this mean I get the job?" "Well, not yet, but it does signal I am interested. But it's not a test Dirk, just a friendly gesture among two who enjoy Russian literature," Jim said. "Maybe someday you can help me get through Doestchevsky. I was spoiled by Tolstoy." Dirk smiled and Jim asked, "How would you feel about relocating?" "It would depend on where. Remember I just moved here from Fresno." "Good point. What about someplace like Santa Cruz or San Francisco?" Then Jim revealed what he was thinking as Dirk's interest grew even more intense.
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At 2 p.m. Hans ushered Ms. Williams into the room. Jim was a bit taken back. The last time he had met her she had her hair tied back straight and had wore a frumpy shirt. Today she was dressed in black jeans and a shoulderless black top and her long red hair came down over her shoulders. She was stunning and after Hans had departed she did not take a chair, she simply walked over to the bookcases and started to look. "You're an interesting man Jim," she said to the bookcases. Jim sat in his chair and watched her. She was tall, like him, and he caught himself in a less than professional thought and shook it off. She picked up a Loeb classic...Caesar's Gallic Wars and turned to Jim and said "Do you know how many extant manuscripts of Caesar's Gallic Wars were used to make this translation?" Jim almost swooned but held it together. "Er, seven?" "Exactly" she said. Then she put it back and walked over and sat across from Jim. "I'm all yours," she said.
Maugham had hardly slept in two days. Martine had come down and brought him some food and He had only left to stop in at the IC and give Andy a list of words to do searches on. He had not called him "troll" and he patted him on the back, told him the yard looked nice and had actually thanked him. Andy reconsidered putting him back on his considerable Christmas card list. Jeremy say up at the stone table and wrote about girlfriend version 18.3. She had been snooty and looker and he had simply melted her by walking up, sitting down and saying to her "You are not funny enough to be with me." In late afternoon Jim came in and got an update from Maugham. Then he asked him to make some calls and make sure Ms. Williams' references all checked out.
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"Saw her walking in," Maugham grinned. "Yer type." "Hasn't my 'type' gotten us into quite enough trouble?" "Just saying..." he raised an eyebrow. "Least of my concerns," Jim feigned. "But I do think she would be perfect to run Azotus, in time." "What about the other guy?" "Like him too. Here's his resume. Same deal." "World domination Jim?" "Only with you at my side Maug," he said and left. That evening he had a quiet dinner in Silo 3 with Sabine and Matisse. Manfred was serving and had, in the back room, eated more than his fair share. After dinner, while Matisse drew fishes he and Sabine talked. "I am making a lot of changes," he said. "You always say that Jim," she said. "Yes well there is a great deal of evidence around you wouldnt you say?" he said. "You know, you always exaggerate" she said. "Yes, and you never do," he replied. "What's the joke?" Matisse asked bounding over. They had been laughing at the exchange for well over a minute and each time they looked at each other it got funnier. "God, we are nerds," he said to Sabine. Then he turned to Matisse and hugged her.
Chapter Sixty Nine

It was that Saturday and Jim had posted and invitation for the first 24 people who signed up to come to a Middle Eastern style dinner in The Doghouse and discussion of an unusual New Testament story. Jim new it was risky. This, in part, had been what some of his research on Middle Eastern perfumes and alabaster had been about, than and Middle Eastern cuisine and dining customs.
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He specifically asked Ted and Manfred to help him prepare and serve the meal. Two large dark pots bubbled away as Manfred and Ted setup the three long tables as Jim had specified. Each of them had to be positioned just right on cinder blocks so they were very low to the floor and had to be adorned with long table clothes. Ted, working alongside Jim often in the kitchen, was still suspicious but also curious. Jim had pitched Ted on the fact that it was a "Bible Study" of sorts and he was also still considering Jim's offer. He had already put out wooden bowls filled with unsalted nuts on the tables and was now at the sink doing the long duty of washing the fresh organic spinach of dirt and grit. Ted had asked what the heck kinda "Study" Jim would do, given his "Commie-Marxist-Homosexual-Anarchist lifestyle", and Jim had laughed and said "Flaming? No, but willing to learn." Then he said "Read Luke 7, from like halfway along to the end. We are going to re-create that type of dinner and let the story tell itself. Will you do it?" "Yer an odd man Jim," Ted said. "Yes, but there is meaning to my oddness, I promise. Oh, and I am not a Marxist...in fact...nevermind." He suddenly felt he was pushing the younger man and asked instead, "Do you remember Babette's Feast?" "Yeah," Ted said. "Well," Jim said, "this is a riotous Babettes Feast with great food with plenty of drama and Jesus right in the middle of it allyou dont wanna miss that do ya?
There were plates for twenty-four, eight at a table set and lots of long and short pillows to lean on placed around the floor area near the tables. As guests started arriving Jonathan clicked on the music in the background, Dead Can Dance's A Passage in Time and Saltarello started to play. Arrayed on the tables were the bowls of nuts, larger ones filled with fresh spinach, goblets for wine, baskets of bread pieces, small decanters of strong tea and pitchers of water and glasses. Jim had also ordered six chicken pastries called Bastela du Chef from El Mansour in San Francisco for the occasion which Manfred had picked up the night before and carefully wrapped. Sex and her husband Dan, a dashing man with a dark hair arrived with Templar and his date, an Italian flight attendant named Dante and sat at the second table. Rand and Renata soon joined them. Maugham and Martine checked in with the kitchen and Jim yelled "Out!" and they complied and
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went to the table near the door. Roo and her new partner Telia came in and sat next to them. Two newcomers named Dawn and Tom came in and looked up at the ceiling at the parachutes attached when made the The Doghouse seem like a tent in the desert. Dan Palmer and his wife Kiera walked in followed by Delphia, Cara, Alice, Fred and an Episcopalian minister named Gregor. When everything was almost ready, Jim scampered down the stairs to the IC and walked in. "Are you ready?" "I think so," Andy said. "Hey, everybody loves you," he said to him. "Not Maugham," Andy said. "Not so. He has a picture of you by his bedside," Jim said. "Drives Marty nuts! Everytime they are making love she looks over and there you are watching." Andy's head bobbed and down and his body chuckled. "Okay." The rode up in the elevator together and Jim put him right next to where he would be standing. At the end five others arrived. Detective Volosky, River, Dirk and Rachel Williams. As more of them arrived Manfred was quite excited and burst into the kitchen clapping his hands. Then he hugged a sweaty Jim from behind who laughed as he stirred the big pot. Then he stopped, turned to Manfred and said "You are such a gift to me Manfred. I don't care what anyone says about you." "What do they speaks of me Sahib?" "That you always try and steal my women, that's for sure." "Oh yes!" Manfred exclaimed. "It's what makes funfullness in the wonderfulness of life Sahib! And Ms. Rachel is heere outside just now and I shall hasten to her side to drive her away from yoos with all possible dispatch!" "Great Manfred," Jim said dryly. When Jim came into the room with a big pot he was very pleased. The room was dark except for the lighted warm glow of candles. The music had mellowed to Severence. Maugham leaned back into Martine and asked "would you like to feed me grapes?" She rolled over and gave him a look then said "Fortunately we dont have any." Just then Ted brought over baskets of fruit for each table. Martine smirked, grabbed two red grapes and bounced them off Maugham's forehead.
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Chapter Seventy
Manfred scurried about pouring red wine and Jim came in from the kitchen to the head table and looked about. "First of all," he said. "I want to thank Manfred and Ted for all their help in preparing this meal. Let's give them a warm hand." Glasses were raised and a toast given in the warm glow. Jim asked Dan Palmer to say a word and then once gain turned to Ted and asked him to say a prayer of blessing over the meal. When done, Jim said "This is a very traditional Middle Eastern meal consisting mostly of the the spicy lentil soup which is poured over fresh spinach, then eaten with nuts, fruit, and an exquisite pastry from our friends at El Mansour as I am not so good with baking." The smell of the candles, the red wine, the lentil soup all wafted together in a sort of tangible aura. "Did you get this recipe from your travels to the Holy land?" Maugham asked slyly. "No Maug," Jim said. "I got it from the Moosewood Cookbook, which I highly recommend. Smartass." "Einstein said imagination is more powerful than knowledge," Jim said. "I want you to close your eyes for a moment and imagine that you are at a Middle Eastern home in the First Century. It looks and feels a bit like this and the foods would be very much like what you are about to eat. You are in the home of a rich and powerful religious man named Simon." Templar raised his glass and there was laughter. "I shall take you all on a cruise through the Red Sea when this is over," he said and smiled at Jim. "Well for tonight, Simon, I shall be Simon the host. A religious man who has invited you all to dinner for various reasons. The tables would be arrayed just like this with the head table here by the kitchen. Pointing down at his own table he said "This is the place of honor. The second table that runs of it and down the way is a place of lesser honor. Then you folk on the far end of the horseshoe are...well, are either strangers or perhaps invited for other purposes. But you have the lowest place." Han's face turned grim. That and he had not been able to find utencils of any kind. "Notice I let you seat yourselves," Jim said. Please enjoy your food while Gregor reads from Luke's Gospel. Manfred, Tim and Jim all started to ladle the hot spicy soup into the bowls and encouraged others to pass the baskets of bread around as Gregor read the following:
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Now one of the Pharisees was requesting Him to dine with him, and He entered the Pharisee's house and reclined at the table. And there was a woman in the city who was a sinner; and when she learned that He was reclining at the table in the Pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster vial of perfume, and standing behind Him at His feet, weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears, and kept wiping them with the hair of her head, and kissing His feet and anointing them with the perfume. Now when the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet He would know who and what sort of person this woman is who is touching Him, that she is a sinner." Maugham took a healthy swig of wine and looked at Martine in the candle light and whispered, "this isn't like any Bible lesson you have ever heard." He popped a grape in her mouth playfully. Rachel, and Manfred right next to her, were both dipping the bread into the hot soup and enjoying it. Delphia, who had taken off her Keds, was flirting a bit with Jonathan. Andy looked pleased with himself. Hans was still distressed and asking for utensils. Rick continued all the while: And Jesus answered him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." And he replied, "Say it, Teacher." A moneylender had two debtors: one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they were unable to repay, he graciously forgave them both. So which of them will love him more? Simon answered and said, "I suppose the one whom he forgave more." And He said to him, "You have judged correctly." Turning toward the woman, He said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has wet My feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave Me no kiss; but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss My feet. You did not anoint My head with oil, but she anointed My feet with perfume. For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little. Then He said to her, "Your sins have been forgiven." Those who were reclining at the table with Him began to say to themselves, "Who is this man who even forgives sins? And He said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace.
Chapter Seventy-One
"In every great story," Jim began, "there are great moments of drama, and often a striking
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moment where one person is like a lightning rod of truth or revelation. Many of you have been at our movie nights and just think of some of those moments...the moment where the warden in Shawshank realizes that Andy has escaped. Think of that moment where Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons watch each other fall in The Mission. Think of the two sisters in Babette's Feast when they learn that she has spent the entire lottery prize on the one dinner." Jim paused and took a drink of wine. "Tell me some of those moments for you in a book or film...in a story." Renata spoke up and said, "In the second Matrix film when the two of them, Trinity and Neo make love while the celebration takes place." "Naw," said Rand grinning, "It's when Morpheus uses the samurai sword on the freeway." "What else?" Jim asked. "When John Cusack stands across from whats-her-name's house with the boombox and the Peter Gabriel song in Say Anything," said Martine. "Better the scene where he's outside the window in the rain in High Fidelity," Maugham countered and she laughed. Dan talked about a scene from Mishima. Jonathan did a short few lines from The Survivors. Roo said that seeing Chocolat had changed her life. Templar said it was a James Bond movie that changed his. Rachel said it was The English Patient. "What about you detective?" Jim asked, surprising Volosky. "Er, The Godfather of course," he said quickly. "That and The Seven-Ups. And you Jim?" he shot back like lightening. "The Man Who Would Be King," said Jim. "The last scene where Connery and Caine settle their friendship on the level and on the square."
The meal was settling in and so where they. Manfred and Ted and Jim rose for a few minutes and brought around warm water and towels for guests to cleanse their hands, followed by spritzes of rose water.
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"Well in this story that Gregor has just read, who is the lightening rod?" Jim asked. "It's Jesus, " Ted said. "Not sure about that Ted, but certainly Jesus is key." Jim answered. "Well, the host...the one Jesus tells the parable to," Maugham said. "Like you, it's always about you," he grinned. "I don't think so," Jim said. "It's the woman," Rachel spoke up. "It's about her." Jim grinned. "What makes you say that?" "I dunno..my gut...she's just so bold." "And sexy," said Andy, which drew stares. "Anyone else?" Detective Volosky stirred. "She's right," he said flatly. She is clearly the focus of the whole story. "A prositiute detective?" Jim said with a grin. "Oh yes," he said. "What a surprise to find a beautiful woman at the center of a story," he smirked.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Some of them had started to slow down a bit and Ted brought in more wine and bread. Manfred was whispering in Rachel's ear and Jim took noticed but continued unabated. "Detective you are, well it is not hard to see why you do what you do," Jim said. "Given the story where do you place Jesus in the room?" "The third table obviously," he answered. "There is no mistaking that the host, you Jim, meant to both test and possible humiliate him. He would be at this table" "Yes," Jim said. "I quite agree. That seems clear. I am sorry that you are at the third table right now." There was some laughter, even from Volosky.
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"Now let me ask you Detective," Jim said evenly. "When the woman comes in where is she?" "Why she is right behind me probably," He said. "Rick?" "Yeah Jim," Can you read verse 44 for us again?" Turning toward the woman, He said to Simon... Detective tell us who is where and why?" "Jim it's obvious," the detective smiled. "He is talking with his back to Simon and looking directly at the woman as he does so. She would have to be right behind him here at the table." "You are sure?" Jim asked. "How else does she lay her hair on his feet?" All the while?" "Well, I am no Bible scholar, but it seems plain."
Chapter Seventy-Three
As Jim continued Manfred and Ted got up and went into the back to get the batter-fried banana fritters with chocolate. Roo also arose as did Renata to serve up small demitasse cups of espresso. "It's a scandalous scene of love," Jim said aloud. "The visiting Rabbi turns his back to the host and tells him a parable from which he cannot extricate himself!" "Did Sahib say 'exfoliate himself"?" Manfred asked Rachel. "No," Rachel whispered. "Listen." "There are two scandals going on at once at this Middle Eastern meal and within their culture," Jim continued. "The first is the woman who has come in with such love for Jesus. She takes the alabaster vial of perfume, which was quite costly and use specifically to cover the smell of sex with many other men, and she breaks it open and pours it on Jesus's feet weeping. Then she takes down her hair, which in this culture was like exposing your breasts, and begins to wipe his feet with it. The room is aghast and the murmuring begins. Now everyone murmer okay?" The room began to murmer. "Not loud enough!" Jim said. They murmered louder.
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"That's better," he smiled. "Now the second scandal is I, Simon, am judging Jesus and his lack of vision for allowing this when he turns his BACK on me and starts telling a story. All the while he is looking at the woman and her alone. "What is he telling the woman and what is he saying to Simon the religious man?" "He's saying he's a prick," Maugham said (laughter). Jim waited. "He is saying the womenz loves much and with whole heartedness!" Manfred said laying down a small plate of fritters. Jim smiled at Manfred and bowed. "He is saying the religious man, though forgiven his debt, did not realize the gift," Dan said. Jim put his hands together again and bowed. "It means love is not about appearances," said Rand. "Very good" said Jim. "It says that this woman was incredibly brave," said Rachel, and Jim admired her again. "I think at the end some part, er I mean I..." Andy stammered realizing he was public. "Yes Andy?" Jim said. "Go on." "Well that faith and love are crucial," he said. "I hope so," said Jim. Most of the guests were now dining on the dessert and the thick black espresso. Jim didn't want to draw it out, though he himself was not sated. He motioned for Jonathan and asked he turn up the music just a bit. Perer Gabriel's soundtrack from The Last Temptation of Christ came up with Of these, Hope. "Thank you all for coming and now I invite you to discuss the meaning of the meal and the text amongst yourselves," Jim said. "Unlike Simon, I have dishes to do." "Thanks Jim!" came many a voice and some small applause as he exited into the kitchen. "Stop please!" Jim said.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Later Jim came out and most had gone but he spied Volosky who was hanging around. Jim came over and thanked him for his words and help.
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"I'd have busted your chops if you messed with me," he said. "Let me call you tomorrow or come by." Jim shook his hand and then went out on the deck and lighted a cigarette. Roo came out to say goodnight and laughed at him. "You dont smoke." "Yes, I do," he coughed roughly. She rolled her eyes and said "nice dinner sport." Rachel came to the door. Tall, quiet, curious and unique. Jim felt her presence immediately. He looked up, gulped and looked away for a minute. She didn't move. Then he gently patted the seat next to him and she came over and said "can I have one too?" "You smoke?" "Nope...you?" "Nope." "Did you read the weird story before that one about John the Baptist and Jesus?" she asked. "Yep." "It ends with 'wisdom is vindicated by all her children..'" "Yep." "How many children do you suppose that is?" Rachel asked. "I have no idea," he said exhaling smoke and coughing a little. "Do you think all roads lead to the same truth?" "No." "No?" "No." "Hmnnn..that surprises me, especially after tonight. I was actually, during the 'hair scene' getting a little hot." Jim laughed and banged out a cigarette for her and lighted it. Then he poured some Merlot in a cup and gave it to her. "I'm not drinking any Merlot," she said.
Azotusland "You like Sideways?" he asked. "Depends on who I am with." "Nice Lauren Becall." "Nice Ralph Lauren."
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"Nice, er...I'm out." Jim said. "You wanna know more?" "Yes." "You want the job?" "No." "No?" "No. I am more intrigued now. How is it that you see the way you see?" "I cannot explain it. I have taught others." "How many?" "Nine." "How are they all doing?" "Better than me." He slipped of his shoes then toes his socks off and stubbed out his cigarette. She plopped off her shoes and put her bare feet next to his. "In the story, you are the woman aren't you?" Jim was shocked like a truck had slammed into him. She touched his hand as he got up. He choked out, "It's not you Rachel," and headed for the door. Maugham saw him and knew the look. Jim ran down the stairs and through the Gallery and into Silo 3. He closed the door but did not lock it. He sank down and washed his face in the koi pond and his favorite goldfish, 10Cents came up as if to kiss him. They exchanged a look and Jim went to the air mattress and collapsed.
Chapter Seventy-Five
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Rachel surprised him 20 minutes later in Silo 3. He was laying back on his air mattress with a perfectly gorgeous bed next to him that had never been slept in. She went and lounged back on it and said. "You could have kissed me." Jim looked to the left and said to God "You're witnessing this right?" He got up and came over to the bed. Then he went and turned down the lights and shut and locked the door. The only light at first was from the long watery trench and it's small submerged lights. Jim went and lighted candles around the room and hit the new gas fireplace and laid some wood on its heating harness. It burned bright and red. The fireplace warmed the room and he decided to not be shy and also not to talk too much. She looked at him direct as he lay her back across the bed and climbed alongside looking down, never taking his eyes off hers. He brushed her long red hair back revealing parted lips that he kissed softly as they began to kiss back and forth in a breathy way. He slung his leg between hers and they fitted well. Rachel moaned with the simplest touch. Then Jim moved to her neck and jawline and finally her left ear and she started to pant lightly and moan more hard. He stretched his long arm down and ran his large hand over her curves. "Yes," she whispered. Im not other men, he whispered. I know, she whispered back. I just want to get to know who you are. I feel the same about you, he said as they kept mouthing and caressing.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Jim rolled out of bed, a little shaken, looked down at the wet stain on his jeans and chuckled. He looked back at Rachel asleep under a pile of blankets, and then walked over to the monolithic shower wall, stripped down and drenched his head with water as hot as he could take it. He dressed in a tattered Old Navy shirt he liked and fresh pair of worn jeans and walked by and out the way around to Silo 2 in bare feet. As he passed the door to Silo 1 he wondered if Maugham ever slept, hearing the clatter of the keyboard. He slumped into his chair with new questions. How could a man so trained in human nature and so loving be so limited in lasting intimacy? He thought about his charts and studies and how worthless they were next to the older couple who ran the bakery down the street and seemed to
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never miss a beat. He thought of Renata and Rand, Cara and her husband, Sex and her man, and the way Roo seemed to naturally get on with her new partner. He thought of Maugham and Martine and how he was none of these and never would be. Maybe his "lover" was supposed to be God alone. He did not know. Rachel had hit him in an unforseen soft spot. He was "the woman" in the story, and she more like a man, a good one. I mean in so many ways he was a strong leaderbut he also needed a woman that was some of that too. He had deliberately stopped at just kissing for about ten reasons. He was not other men, but was that a good thing or bad? Jim shook his head. He had no idea. He figured Rachel would soon enough figure it was a bad thing. He poured a second glass of wine not even thinking about where he had gotten the first. He was not a Simon in either sense. Not like Templar, tall and gallant with always the right intentions; nor was he the hardened religious man at the head of the table when the woman braved the crowd to break the alabaster vial. A man who had probably "known" her many times, and for whom the perfume was necessary to cover his dark scent and those of others at that table. As he lay back he thought about the night and the dream. In this one he was in a huge stadium with incredibly steep walls up many tiers. There were perhaps a million people below and all around the rims and the playing field was so far into vertigo that it could not even be seen. He was simply at the top. It was at night but everything was lighted up. He had ventured to the side and thought about slinging over to just feel what it was like to be that endangered...to be that high and know that if you let go you would probably die in the fall. He wanted to feel the wind in his hair and the grip in his fingers...and if they gave? So what, he knew death was inevitable. Why not with such a crowd? Except it would be foolish. A meaningless death he thought. Like an accident. "Man Slips on Orange Squishy and Tumbles into Eternity" would be the headline. He saw Matisse reading it in tears well into her twenties. Later in the dream he was in a small toy-like Jeep and there was a traffic jam. He let others in ahead of him. Then he had to go to the bank and hit an ATM. There were 50 people waiting for two ATM machines and he managed to choose the line that actually moved. When he finished making a feverish deposit (as those behind him grumbled loudly) he walked to the window and wondered about falling and about bank deposits and how dehumanized the world had become or had always been. Then he turned at saw two young men in costumes. They were both obviously black under heavy makeup but made-up like ...well, the closest thing Jim could think of was the puffy pink Hostess-thingies...or like humanoid Dalamatians with a thyroid condition. In either case he wanted nothing to do with them.
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But one of them knew Jim. "You don't remember me do you?" he asked. "Uh, now...I'm sorry." "We use to study Kierkegaard together in Seminary," said the one. The other disappeared (probably had to make the deposit). "Well, seems to be working for both of us," Jim said. "Don't you remember man?" Jim studied his face trying to delve through the layers of makeup to what he may have once known many years ago sitting in a dank library. He was a vague memory...like a scent you haven't smelled for 20 years. Familair yet not so at all. A stranger, yet not one. Jim woke up at that point when Rachel stirred and he looked at the clock and realized it was 5:15 a.m. That is when he got up.
When Jim was ready he came into Maugham's office and found him slumped in his chair snoozing. Martine was in a big arm chair that had obviously been added for such nights. "They are human after all," he said as he hit return keys on the cpus and stirred them. Jim went through the browser histories as Maugham stirred. "Bro, shower down here?" "Not today...but most days sure.," Jim said. Maugham stood his long body and stretched high and lumbered to the fridge and grabbed a sports bottle. "Wanna?" "Hornsby." "You might kill yerself." "one thing at a time," Jim said.
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Martine stirred then pouted. "You people are nuts," she said, then draped a blanket around herself, looked at Maugham and said "key."
On the way up, draped in the cold dark morning Martine slumped into the wall outside the Gallery. She was tired and wondered if things would ever slow down. She moved around to the elevator and got on. At the top she slogged into the former Ops and fell hard into bed. Her eyes burned and she heard a dull buzz in her ears. She prayed for sleep. Down in the War Room Jim reviewed Maugham's considerable work. It was impressive. "Who you gonna start with?" Jim asked. "Jim Wilkins from Maine," Maugham grinned. "Then Steven Hardstedt from Atlanta, then tomorrow, Brian Cox from Seattle, er, Redmond." "The dodge?" Jim asked. "Each of them makes at least six figures and I've managed to post numerous press releases, create home pages, post on bulletin boards and create profiles on four to six services for each." "What do they look like?" Jim asked. "Better looking than you...but just by a bit," he said. "Thanks."
Martine dreamed about the ocean. It was daytime with a light rain and the large looming waves were being sheared off by the wind off the cliffs before they pounded down hard on North Beach. The sun peered through regularly amidst the light mist, rain and made the sand glow a light brown. She smelled the fresh salted air and little girl in a warm beach dress walked up to her with a bowl of strawberries and cream and sat down next to her.
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Martine looked down at her and they both crinkled their noses at each other and laughed then shared the bowl with a big spoon, tasting the brightness of the tart fruit with the silky weight of the rich cream.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Sabine dropped Matisse off and they exchanged pleasantries. Then He asked Sabine "would you like to come in and see the progress?" "I think I'll let you and Matty do that," she said nice. "I'll checkit out when I get back at 4." He gave her a quick hug and then he and Matisse held hands and walked the long way around the path on the North side of Azotus. When they got to the Gallery, Hans looked up with a smile and Matisse let go of her father's hand and danced over to his desk. "Ok sveet Matty," Hans said serious-like. "Vich drawyer is the ringpop in?" "That one!" she said of the middle left drawer and Hans opened it. "Nope! Two more guesses." Matisse suddenly looked demure. "The same one on the right." "Ah!" Hans said as he slided it open and picked up a bright red ringpop. "Veir you are sveetheart," he said and she gave him a hug. As they made their way back Jim looked over his shoulder and winked at Hans. Inside Silo three there had been significant changes thanks to Fred and his speedy crew. The room appeared to be now three-quarters the size, and it was now that Matisse had her own room. Fred had constructed a long wall that was mostly collapseable made of dark wood veneer, almost black on the outside facing into the larger part of the room. I rand the full length, over the koi pool which now had a thick granite slab on Mattisse's side for her to safely across. There were sold door structures on either end. One a small one on the South side that openly came out about 4 feet. The structure on the far North side was 10 feet and ended inbetween two of the tanks on the wall so inside of Matisse's new room there were three long tanks along the North wall then a third of one that disappeared behind the new wall. Mattise looked at her Papi and asked, "Where's my room?" "It's right here Pumpkin," he said and led her over to the door and opened it. Her face lighted up. Against the far wall were to big book cases and a desk inbetween. The bookcase was filled with her favorite books, toys and there was a new twin bed for her that had Spongebob sheets and her favorite stuffed animals. The head of the bed was just below the middle tank. She bounced up on it and look in at the small collection, the lobster, the crab, a red starfish, a bank of yellow sea sponge.
Azotusland She giggled. "Oh Papi..."
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He led her over to the folding walls which had some her drawings and art tacked to the pourous grey cloth. Then he led her over the bridge and she dropped down and said, "Where is 10Cents?" They waited awhile until he came all orange and golden and ate some little food from her hand and the other larger koi groped and gulped. He walked her around the corner past the monolith shower and showed her the bathroom which now had a new smaller sink and drawers. "This is for you," he said "and you can set it up anyway you wish..." What would you like to do now?" Jim asked. He didn't want it to be overwhelming. But she looked up and said "How do I feed Mr. Krabs?"
Tim had riden up to the Seminary nearby and found an alone place in the stacks. He found an old book that Jim had mentioned from the 16th century by a monk named Luis de Leon called The Names of Christ. Jim had, over that dinner, discussed what Ted's passion might really be and Ted felt confused at once and a bit defensive. By the end of the evening, Jim had made a modest proposal. It was for that reason that Ted was now in the stacks reading some obscure priest from the 1500's. He felt nuts but strangely interested.
Rachel was dismayed. Since that night Jim had been evasive and she could not figure it. He seemed to respond to open and honest discourse, yet he had not returned her calls and she was pretty sure he was, in reality, just another asshole, or worse, just insane. It did not add up. Rachels mind could hold an amazing number of disparate ideas suspended at once in various places of formation awaiting new information. Hers was far more than a swift native intelligence or even a shrewd scholarly one. It was also inherently spiritual and intuitive,
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allowed her to freely explore a variety of paradigms while also being firmly aware that she was always entrenched in one herself. One of the real differences between Rachel and Jim was that he needed three silos in the heart of a mountain to feel safe while Rachel had somehow found a way to internalize something like those places within her own being. It was those deeper things which they had recognized immediately in each other and which neither of them had any idea what to do with now.
Jim ordered Thai food for dinner to be delivered at 4 and he poured a glass of wine for Sabine when she came down. She was a bit taken back, and even worried. She knew her husband was a complex man but it was difficult to see it played out in time and space in Silo 3. He was strangely undaunted. "Matty, please go show you mom your new room," he said and they moved off and were gone for a good 15 minutes. When they emerged, Sabine looked harshly at Jim and said" we have to go," in a terse voice. There was nothing he could do. She had always held all the cards that way. He hopped over the moat and knelt down by his daughter and said sweetly, "Thanks for coming sweetheart. The next time you come I will show you how to feed Mr. Krabs, okay?" "Okay Papi," she said sadly. Then they left. Jim walked into Matisse's new room and looked around. It was hers. Her room. He saw Sabine's wine on the nightstand, barely touched and he went over and downed it quickly. Then he hit the side panel and slipped in to feed Mr. Krabs and the others.
Maugham had been very busy. He had shown interest in various ways and invited exchange. Nothing had come through but he figured this one would spend a a week doing research to avoid
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He knew Alabaster, or RCane would expect some response..some search. It's why he avoided all the normal routes and had just painstakingly been like a man looking for a hot woman for his own means. It was so NOT Jim., but it was so utterly male. And the photos she had posted were so obviously meant to play to just them. A shower scene which almost showed a nipple, but had the curve of her back. Another with her laying on her back to receive a man or whatever she could get. "Men are idiots," Maugham muttered. He was in a chess match and this one had been bested once by him and would be again because she was evil. Maugham thought about Martine and how the opposite she was. So sweet yet you could push up against her and she was solid. It had been months now and he was still in quiet "in love." He liked it. He liked how it licked around the edges of his mind as he slept. He liked it when he caught her scent. He liked it when she laughed at him and when she bore down on him in love making. He was smitten. Maugham did not get a response for a week, except for two messages from Rnonymous. The first said: $250,000 in unmarked bills in a case on my instructions and I go away for good. ~Rnonymous
Maugham laughed and wish he could reply "Yeah, for what fuckweed?" The second one said I know where The Girl lives. get ready. ~Rnonymous
Chapter Seventy-eight
It was days later that Maugham as "Cox from Seattle" got Rnonymous' immediate attention. She cooed to him, or rather to a "Cox" which was re-routed to Maugham. Though it was all Internet, she liked his look and was interested in his mind. She was an artist and wanted collaborators. She sent five pictures and asked for his regular email and he sent the yahoo account that has been carefully setup. Two days later after some banter back and forth, he got a bite from her, from Alabaster on TheOnion.com for "Steve Hartsdedt" from Atlanta. Some of the words written had obviously
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The pictures were more shy and subdued. Maugham called Martine down and asked her help in separating the two responses, or series of responses. They could not echo anything but pure male lust through two decidedly different filters. She was quite helpful.
That next Friday night Jim finished a quick reading of the Beat Poets and a short slide-show of them at the Cafe Trieste in San Francisco. This was done in the library and he was tired as he uncharacteristically boarded the elevator and headed down . It stopped at the first floor and as the door opened there was Rachel. She looked at him, stepped forward, pushed him against the wall and slapped him hard in the face. "Owwww! That hurt," he said slumping to the floor. "You are a fake and a monster," she said. "You really had me believing." Then she got off and walked away. " Im an asshole!" he called out half-heartedly as the elevator closed and headed down, his face still stinging. Jim got off the elevator, walked into Maugham's office. "How you doing pal?" "Not as good as you." He headed to the refrigerator, poured half a bottle of white wine into a tall glass and chugged it. "Well, yer never bored," Maugham smirked. "Yeah," Jim sighed heavily. "What's eating you Bro?" Maugham asked. "Everything and everyone," Jim said.
Azotusland "Sounds a bit dramatic?" Maugham said. "Yeah, suppose."
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"I'm just not very good around people," he said. "Ah bullshit!" Maugham, said laughing. "Yer just no good around women." Jim chuckled darkly and slumped down into a chair. Maugham went to the fridge and crabbed a Hornsby and the bottle to refill Jims glass. He sat down next to his beloved friend. They sat quietly for awhile in the semi-dark. "How did it go with Matisse?" "Sabine?" "Terse?" "Yes" "Figured. Control." "Utter." "She'll get over it," Maugham said. "Yes." "Someone gnawing at your soul?" "What's usual?" "That. Do tell." "I have this vision for all outsides," Jim started, "But at my core I am lost." "I dunno, you get mail here." Maugham grinned. Jim laughed. "I envy you Maug," he said. "Me? Why me?"
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"Clarity and love." Maugham bumped his head back against the wall a few times and twirled his three braided hair strands. "You gotta suck it up Bro," Maugham said. "Cut your losses, watch yer backside. Hey...remember that thing...er... you once in a drunken stupor read me that story about King David...remember that?" "Yeah, kinda..he reminds me of you," Jim said grinning. "Look, I gotta go," Jim said suddenly. Then he left and Maugham looked at the floor and sighed.
In Silo 2 Jim turned up the gas burners so it lighted the place up for once and he grabbed the remote and lighted up HAL and wondered what they hell to conjure up. He felt no peace. He missed his daughter, and felt utter remorse and longing about and for Rachel. Was it fair to bring her into all of this? It was obvious that unless she was out of the picture fast, and of her own accord, she was in real danger. He hoped it could be repaired later because he more than liked her. He had not met anyone remotely like her, perhaps, ever. But how was it of her accord if she knew nothing? Wasnt that Jim controlling everything again? Always on his terms, right? How long had it taken him to let Maugham in on his underground home? How messed up is that? Then Jim thought about how incisive Rachel had beenhow fast, but not unkind. What kind of person gets that of all the people in that story I am most like the women who anoints Jesus feet? Who is that fast and deep? Then he thought about her tall frame and the electricity he felt when they first touched and Jim shook his head in disbelief. He had, perhaps, 2,000 of the best films cued via HAL. At the moment none resonated at all. As he hit the button that brought up the scenes of his daughter playing and cooing and laughing. She loomed over him on the big screen at least twice his size. She was played a xylophone at the age of two.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
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"Do you believe in God," Martine asked him quietly as they lay in bed. "I'm not sure," Maugham said in a whisper. "But Jim does and that's good enough for me I guess." "I dunno," she sighed. "Hey, you believe in God," Maugham said with a grin at her. "What?" "Sure you were praying six hours ago," he smirked. "Oh God...oh God ...oh huh huh huh, hoooooyawoooooh God!" he mimicked lightly. She slapped his chest and pouted as a gag. And he pulled her naked body in closer to his and put his feet under hers and enveloped her.
Jim had fallen asleep in his big chair in Silo 2 around 1 a.m. He had once again wrestled with his way of being. While he had made significant changes, the core was untouched. It still had an odd "Jim-ness" to it that he both enjoyed and also despised. At Midnight and just for fun he qued up The Balled of John and Yoko closed his eyes and just listned to the words. There was a vulnerable fearless in Lennon that inspired him, and for all the shit Lennon had taken about faith issues, Jim knew this man for all his faults, was in a love/hate relationship with God that no pastor or priest he had ever met could rival. Lennon's own denunciation of dead religion was actually mirrored in the Bible. He was a prophet as Jim saw it. But what was he? A pied piper? He thought about the Rev. Tanka, and about his own mentors that way. The Rev. Corban who was such a fire and was almost like two different people in public and in person. Using a familair analogy, Corban was like Patton. An unyielding force who never second-guessed himself and whose troops thundered into battle with heavy losses and casualties. The second has been a theology professor named Dr. Johnson Hughes. A man of immense intellectual capacity but and even bigger heart. He took would make tremendous gains, but like Bradley, his troops loved him and their were fewwer casualties along the way and a deeper "band of brothers" was formed and lasted to this day. And here was Jim, once again in the belly of Azotus, unsure as always og what his own calling was and hearing only that faith, hope and love were crucial.
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The cafe was in full swing when Jim walked in at 7 a.m. Dirk was being trained by Roo, who had swapped with Renata. Ward was there putting in some extra hours and Jim went over and gave him a bear hug and thanked him for pitching in. "Hey big mister!" Jim heard and turned to see Alice smiling. "Yer pool-thingy is gonna be done tomorrow and set but Tuesday. That's when we test." "You are a wonder," Jim said. "What about the lighting?" "Oh Jim...yer an idiot," she said laughing and turned to go find a good seat. "Sahib?" Manfred said coming up quick. "There is the most honorable Ted-ness waiting for you not in a state of joyfulness on the deck." "Thank you Manfred," Jim said. "Can you brink me a double Americano black out there in a few minutes?" "Yes, indeed." Jim walked past some folks. Said hi to Templar and River over by the window. He reminded them quietly that Witness was this Thursdays Azotus Movie Night and to sign up if interested. When Jim came out on the deck it was beautiful. Azotus faced East so the sunrises were ribbed with streaks of gold, red, blue and pink and all framed by the dark woods of the valley. Ted looked perturbed as he looked into his tea. Jim sat down next to him and looked out for awhile. Ted stirred restlessly. "It's a trick, he's a Catholic and a heretic!" Ted growled. Jim waited a moment and Manfred brought out his Americano. He thanked him and Manfred looked at him worried and Jim rolled his eyes at Manfred and he scampered off. "The Rev. Tanka or Leon?" What did you find heretical?" Jim asked Ted.
Azotusland "It was antiquated," Ted said.
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"So is Richard Baxter, you wouldn't call him a heretic," Jim said. Ted did not know who Richard Baxter was so he didn't bother. "What did you find offensive?" Jim asked softly. "Nothing," said Ted. "It was just foreign to me." "Understood," said Jim as he took a swig and looked out as the canvas lighted up and the air got colder. "Can I ask you a personal question Ted?" Jim asked finally. "Yes, if I can ask you one later." "Fair enough. Only ask mine first...it might help us along if you know what I mean." "This is just between us?" Ted asked. "Yes Ted, I rather insist upon it." Jim answered. "You are not who you appear to be," Ted said flatly. "Well who do I appear to be Ted?" "You appear to be a Liberal," he said. "Well I am that," Jim said. "But you also read theology," Ted stammered. "Yes, I see no contradiction," Jim said. "You confuse me," "Yes well I often confuse myself," Jim replied. "So on that we are both agreed." "Are you serious about this proposal?" "Yes, or I would never have brought it up." "You want me to run this effort?" Ted pleaded. "Now that you have a taste, do you want to lead this effort?"
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"Yes, I do...but you knew that Jim...that I would want to..." "Yes, I suspected." "Why?" "Because underneath your judgment of other people is a heart that wants to simply love God and believe." Jim said. Ted was quiet for a while. He was rummaging through the various discussions he had with the Rev. Tanka the week before he died and how utterly foolish they were, yet how somehow he was changed by them. Jim sipped his coffee and admired the day uprising. Ted sighed heavily and finally said. "I'll do it."
Chapter Eighty
That next week Fred was called in for more work on Silo 2 and was congratulated and given a year's free pass for food and drink at Azotus for his stellar work on Silo 3 and also on what was now called Chez Malraux...the apartment on the top floor that Maug and Martine shared. Fred and his crew had quickly swept in and reconstructed the small flat into a true living space. A small kitchenette was on the Western wall where the computers had once been and they had a small divider that made their space private. There was one big window overlooking the valley with a small table and Fred had built shelving up high around the rim of the room. Maugham, taking a clue from his own dream, bought many large candles and placed them strategically around the room to make it warm. They had a new bed, a queen size, brought all the way up the stairs and installed and it had a headboard that had room for books and candles. At night when he looked at her in the candle light he was amazed, aroused and comforted, all at the same moments. Martine looked into his clear eyes and felt utterly loved. Still, Maugham set the alarm clock so he could get back to business when needed.
There was a battle at Sabine's house. She had subtly dropped clues to Matisse about her father
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and it had caused confusion. Matisse already knew her father was "different" and she trusted Sabine utterly..so she was at a loss. She just wanted to bounce on her new bed and look at the lobster and the crab and watch the other fish and do some art. But she sensed things were not right and her mother disapproved of her new room.
Ked-woman had kept away from the cafe for awhile. Some of it was because of Rachel and respecting that, some was just frustration. She was also still sad about Jacob. She decided to send Jim an email and express herself openly. She did this out of self-respect.
Templar was upstairs on a cool Tuesday night reading a long manuscript written by Sex. Dan, her husband, sat across the table. Templar liked Dan a great deal and admired the loose symmetry and balance that the two long-time lovers had achieved and now shared over years of marriage. Men came on to Sex often because she was, well, a flirt and alluring. But she loved her husband alone and just enjoyed the safe company of men like Templar. "It's quite good and intricate," Templar said. "You must be quite proud of her." "I am," said Dan. "She's the most unusual woman I have ever met, and I met her at 17." Simon smiled at Dan's vision of her. Down on the slope Alice was ready to fire up the pumps and have Jonathan add water at the bottom. Jim was visibly pleased and he had Manfred bring a basket full of croquet balls. Hans was in attendance but was not pleased. Alice walked up into Jim personal space and bumped him. "Well big guy, here it is," she said. Then she walked over to the wall and hit a switch and yelled down to Jonathan to start. The pool at the top gurgled and sputtered and finally spit out sprays of water then a steady flow into the top pool. Jim walked down the pathway and looked at the bits of shells, beach glass and rocks. Many had been collected over the years by both Ian and daughter Matisse. The water rumbled over them and began to fill the middle pond. It had been Alice's idea to add small lights into the undercurve of the cement and she had added
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this without further expense. It was darkening and the water seemed to leap about over and down the rough mosaic and spill into the pool, then turn once it had gathered and begin the final descent. Jim stayed at the middle pool for awhile and just listening. Then he suddenly reached in and grabbed up a large handful of water and drenched his face. Alice laughed. "He gets it," she said. Jim walked back up the hill smiling and hugged Alice. Then he nodded to Manfred who started to roll the croquet balls down the slotted trough. The first one rimmed off the the middle pool rim and landed somewhere down on the street with a loud bouncing, but the rest rimmed right around and sped down into the bottom pool with a big splash. "What about your crystals?" he asked her. "Darlin, give it a rest. Plan your deal for next Saturday."
Chapter Eighty-One
It was Thursday night and the Azotus Theater was open and Witness was showing. Jim gave a brief introduction to the films of Peter Weir and his unique vision. In attendance were regulars River, Delphia, Cara, Simon, Ted, Manfred, Maugham and Martine, Alice, Jeremy, Sex and Dan, Renata and Rand, Maurice and newcomers Mike, Lisa, Trevor, Jim, Janice, Bill and Philip. Andy also showed, which surprised many and he brought a friend named James and his mother Monique. When the lights went low and the film started, Maugham excused himself and went down to his office. There were responses to both men from Alabaster. With Brian she wanted a quick meeting and seemed amorous; with Steven she was more withdrawn. Maugham paced his office and tried to think of it as a one-sided chess match. She did not yet know (he hoped) that it was him. Best to hop on the first one and play out the other. He wrote an email and suggested dinner in Seattle's Market district for Saturday night. Was she willing to fly up from Northern California? What city would she be flying in from? Could he buy her ticket and make a hotel reservation? He peppered his response with gratuitous flirting and compliments. At the end of the movie, Jim stood and took the customary stool and asked for responses. "It was a violent movie about non-violence," said Cara.
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"Yes, I think so," said Jim. "What else Cara?" "In many ways Book is a dead man before he gets shot," she said. "He's a funtionary and a pawn." Jim once again marveled at what others saw in films. He had never seen that at all and had watched the film 15 times. Jonathan raised his hand and did an excellent rendition of the old man "Book...Book..I wrote another book!" and those who were privy laughed very hard, and those not felt isolated and foolish. "What about the scene in the village when Book, dressed as an Amish pacifist beats the man?" "It showed his own internal violence and rage," River said. Jim was surprised because she so rarely spoke. Delphia said "he's a man caught between two competeing worlds that he connot reconcile." Maugham walked back into the room and said "Hell, it's Harrison Ford, he just wanted to kick some ass Han Solo style." The conversation took another turn after many stopped laughing. "Most memorable moment?" Jim asked. "I feel like I'm on the Actor's Studio!" Jonathan exclaimed. Then everytime someone answered he went "Prffffft."
Eighty-Two
That Saturday morning against her better judgment Sabine dropped Matisse at her father's cafe. Matty ran passed the Batcave and hit the door on the elevator. Then she took out a key from her change purse and put it in the slot and it took her a floor down. She ran through the newly refurbished hall, through Maugham's office saying "Hi!" quickly to a tired Maugham and then ran up the stairs down the short way and turned right and descended into Silo 3. She stopped short and sort of tip-toed to the edge of the pond and took her shoes off and dipped her fee into the tray. 10Cents came up and kissed her legs and she laughed and said "Where's Papi?" Then she went to her own bedroom door and opened it and bounced on the bed and looked at her fish and crusteceans and sat down on her bed and felt a wild mix of joy and sadness.
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She lay her head down and wondered where her Papi was.
Maugham was actually packing a bag and getting ready to hit a flight out of SFO. He was supposed to meet Alabaster for a first date the next night, on a Sunday night in Seattle down at the Waterfront Seafood Grill. He had no idea how he was gonna play it out. Obviously he could not actually meet her, but he might find a way to find out more about her. Martine looked at him in a worried way. "You have your game face on" she said. "That worries me." "I'll be fine," he said. "We have to do this. I have to do this. It'll be fine I know this woman..at least enough." Martine had heard the full story from Maugham so she did know. "She's a sociopath," she said. "Be careful." Maugham stopped and smiled and came over to her and stretched his long body on top of hers and looked into her eyes and said "I am clear." She smiled back at him and believed.
Jim was up on the deck trying to reason with Ted who was coming apart. Maybe Jim had pushed him too fast...it was unclear but Ted was angry and felt manipulated even though Jim had assured him he was not and his offer was honest and clean. It didn't fit for Ted. He needed air and it felt foreign to him. Jim looked like a devil and he felt his world was spinning so he simply lashed out and told Jim to "fuck off." Then he left and went down and sulked in his Suburban. In the meanwhile Renata had gone home and thrown up in the sink in front of Rand. He came and massaged her shoulders and grabbed some massage oil and worked it into her arms and whispered how much he loved her and nipped her ears like a new lover. She laughed...then
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Manfred went down to Andy's for a change of pace and they downloaded a few old episodes off the Internet of Dark Shadows . Manfred brought down two tubs of Jim's ice cream and some chocolate sauce and they settled in for a long night of viewing.
An hour after Matisse had arrived Jim came down and found her. She was tear-stained and his heart ached. There was no clear way to make it better. It just was. He asked if she wanted to go to the fish store and look and she did. They left together hand in hand.
Maugham had Martine drop him at SFO and he kissed her hard and said "No worries." Then he headed to the Southwest desk to confirm his flight. He had only a carry-on and no real plan. He sat in the waiting area after an exhaustive search of all that he possessed and settled in and thought about Jim. He knew that Jim was, in many ways a magnet for life. It was always there. Maugham himself was drawn in by this enigmatic man. But somehow he had moved into real relationship with an utterly weird introvert who looked like and extrovert. The woman...Candice was a perfect example, it seemed to Maugham. Deeply ambitious, sensuous and sexual and wanting the world...she had met Jim and seen his potential. She had played it...but he withdrew, as he inevitably did, when she showed her real intent. Jim was perpetually broken-hearted for reasons Maugham could not understand. He sat and thought about the last time he had seen Candice. "Should have banged that bitch's lights out," he thought...then felt foolish. No. He had been right to walk.
Chapter Eighty-Three
That Saturday night as Maugham's flight left the pad for Seattle, Jim sat down with Ian and Matisse at a Chinese Restaurant in Fairfax. Ian had just purchased a 96 Mustang in near perfect condition for a song so he drove.
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Ian was quiet like his father but there was a lot going on under the surface. The two of them did not talk often, but when they did it was generally deep and there was much mutual respect. Jim admired the young man like a man he would meet and admire instead of just being a son. The young man was good with his sister. She adored him and in some ways he was almost a second father to him as often happens after divorce. They sat on the same side of the table and Matisse purred when her sizzling rice soup came and Ian made sure to foil Jim's attempts to get a potsticker with his own chopsticks on several occasions. When the waiter brought out the ginger oysters and the sweet and sour prawns Jim turned a little serious with Ian and said "I'd like you to consider running an Azotus in Santa Cruz." Ian was taken aback and smiled quietly. He had not expected this but it wasn't foreign to him. "Do I get to hire some of my friends?" he asked. "Of course...the hard-working ones," Jim smirked. "And we are talking about next year, not this one. In the meantime I'd like to see you start to do some lectures in the library on things you care about and also do some movie nights. Are you open to that?" "Love to," Ian said smiling. "Bout time you asked."
Maugham arrived in Seattle and found his way through the strange terminal and picked up a Lincoln Continental at the rental agency. Pushing up I-5 toward the city he decided it best to get the lay of the land before checking into The Edgewater. Seattle fascinated Maugham. When Jim had decided to do an Azotus one of the places they had traveled to was Seattle to look at locations. They decided after doing the "Starbucks Game" (where you leave one and walk to the next one visible and see how long you can go) that Seattle was impossible. They would have to be more subversive and Jim had "treated Maugham to a long lecture on the nature of the word "subversive" about sub-texts and alternate version of perception. Maugham, who rarely drank, had order a third beer by the time Jim finished. Still, after looking at several old decaying buildings and abandoned factories, they had walked the waterfront, stopped in at Elliott's for a drink and two plates of oysters. The oysters, good, flavorful and fresh and went down nicely with the Bloody Mary's which were spicy and well peppered. They talked about the city and what could be done. Then Jim changed the conversation to the oysters. Maugham started to laugh. "I suppose you are going to give me a lecture on oysters now," he
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"I'll try and not," Jim said taking a drink and then slipping down another cool and silvery treasure from Puget Sound. "But note," he said "how small they are." and Maugham just wagged his head. Jim had gone on about the kumamoto oysters that had become extinct off the Southern most island of Japan, but still thrived in Humboldt Bay because some visionaries had seen clear to transplant millions of seed to the colder bay a few decades before pollution in Japan would kill off the indigenous first family. Maugham was bored but perked up when Jim mentioned the unusually plump, large and flavorful oysters of Pt. Reyes. Maugham had grown up in the Bay Area and had always loved the coastline there. Jim explained that the original owner of the local oyster company in Pt. Reyes had devised a new way of seeding them that took full advantage of the protected and clean waters of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. The oysters where stacked in racks in the Estero above the mud and sand and in the pristine waters they grew in size and health. "Until they are shucked and eaten," Maugham said. "Yes, well, there is that," Jim said. "When we get back why don't we take a road trip to Inverness?" Maugham said. And that is how, eventually, Azotus came to reside first in San Anselmo, just 25 minutes from Inverness, Bolinas and Pt. Reyes to the West and the same to San Francisco to the South.
Chapter Eighty-Four
Maugham walked down Alaskan Way by himself in the cool of the evening. It was bright with soft clouds and the hint of burning wood from some local houses off the main ways came his way and he remembered why he loved this town. He surveyed the restaurant he was about to enter and would enter the next night under different circumstances. Walking up the two flights of stairs he came into the room and enjoyed it's simple elegance. Dark, simple, a bit of old world mixed with a magificent view of Puget Sound. He ordered a veal cutlet with vegetables and enjoyed a simple Anchor Steam followed by an espresso. It was 8 p.m. when he saw her enter the room and he panicked. She mercifully walked right past and was seated by the window. Maugham was flummoxed and headed for the kitchen and asked for the manager. She came back and he explained that he was on business to offer a rival proposal on a business deal and the rival had just showed up for dinner. He simply wanted to settle up his bill quietly and leave by some discreet way if they could help?
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Graciously, the manager comped Maughams dinner and led him out the back way, giving him her card and telling him to come back anytime with a smile and a wink. Maugham grinned in return, then turned, thought of Martine and scowled at himself. Next, he took up station down on the pier not far from the front door. She came out just 30 minutes later and he was surprised. He figured she was doing what he was...casing. He lifted his coat hood up over his head as she stormed by and he lighted a cigarette looking out at the water. Then he followed her back to her hotel and took note of it then went back and checked in at the Edgewater Hotel. He called Jim when he got in to report but Jim was still up reading stories to Matisse in her new bedroom, so he did not talk long. Jim was reading "Only Joking Laughed the Lobster" and Matisse laughed and clapped looking at the small lobster just above her new bed. Then Jim read her Where The Wild Things Are and Owl Babies as she fell asleep. Then he kissed her sweet cheek and walked over the bridge to the other side and slipped through the door and feel into his own bed and had, for a change, no dreams at all.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Ted was in a quandary, a crisis of faith and had no idea how to deal with any of it. He hated Jim but also loved him. What he had offered was insanely generous but also insane. His time with Rev. Tanka before he died was not much different. Ted jumped in his Suburban and drove out to Bolinas to clear his head. When he got there he stopped at the store. He decided on the way there, through Olema, he would do things different for a day. He would "try it on". He was listening to a CD made by Jonathan for him that was mostly Sixpense None the Richer. No one was there to watch or evaluate him. Not the ghost of his father and mother and not the elders of his former church. So he drove into beachfront Bolinas, stopped at the store, bought some slices of dry salami, some cheeses, a small bottle of wine and a baggette and headed for the beach. He felt decadent and Bohemian, which he later found funny. But at the time it was a stretch to be sure. He set up camp and read from the book that Tanka had given him. It sounded deep chimes within him in ways he did not understand. It was a foreign music that was familiar yet far away at the same time. But he kept listening and entertaining it. He wrote in a new journal for awhile about Jim crazy idea about "Spoke" and what Jim had asked him to head up. He was confused so he decided to just air it out.
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After some slices of salami, and a splash of wine and some fresh butter on hard baggette he set it down and decided to pray. But it was different. He decided to listen instead of speak. Tanka, in his last days had urged this on the young man and talked of his own mistakes and how he wished he could trade ten thousand of his own lost words for just twenty that might belong to God. So Ted intended to listen. They had laughed often in Tanka's hospital room and Tanka had listened to Ted whole story with care. Ted was always concerned that Tanka was insane, but he could not deny that he loved him and was more available, as a pastor, than any he had known. They prayer together often in those final days for Tanka. And Tanka wept one time and thanked Ted for being at his side day by day when he knew he was dying. Ted was undone by this. So he ended up at the beach and looked to his left and saw three older men on the beach looking ragged. He looked down and saw he still had two thirds of a baggette, and butter, cheeses, some salami, and a bit of wine. He walked over with it in tow and sat down in the sand and introduced himself.
Jonathan was spending the day rehearsing his lines and listening over and over again to his own comedic meanderings for the show that evening at the Comedy Club in Larkspur. Jeremy was downstairs in the Batcave building, with the help of newcomers Veronica and Ethan, a whole paper mache mountain of their devising. They were thick with paste and bad newspaper and laughing and it was all a mess. Yet they pressed on and Jeremy pressed on though thinking here and there about recent girlfriend version 17.8. Ian had taken to parking his Mustang in his father's old spot, which did not suit Manfred's sensibilities. When Manfred brought it up to Ian, he simply replied "Bite me. Talk to Papi."
Ted had offered his extra food to men he thought homeless. This was a big step and he laughed
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when it turned out they had homes and good humor. Paul, Tim and Robert were all residents of Bolinas in some capacity and they enjoyed each others company. They swapped stories with Ted and Tim remarked and quoted from Thoreau as if Ted had read Walden. He had not but he feigned that he had and made a mental note. They shook hands and Ted felt clean and good and humanized as he walked back to his small camp. He slipped on some fins and dove into the surf in the inlet and tasted the good salt water and marveled at the richness of the deep crevice that cut down its narrow middle. As he dove down he found amazing shells and hermit crabs and pieces of old dead boats and beach glass. It was like a museum, but was alive and open. He surfaced and Tim was walking and yelling at him from the beach. He paddled in a bit because he could not hear him...just saw him moving his way and pointing. When he got in another fifteen yards he turned and saw what Tim was pointing at and what he had no idea of. I huge fishing trawler cruised past him in the shallow trench and he realized he had been saved by the man. Shaken, Ted slumped hard up on the beach and Tim just turned and walked away like what he wanted had simply happened and it was time to get a beer. By the time Ted had cleaned up his equipment and grabbed his bags and headed up the men were gone. He chucked the gear in the back of the big white beast and drove into town looking for Tim. He only found Paul who he called out to and Paul asked him for a lift to his house on the point and Ted agreed.
As Ted and Paul lumbered out towards the point Jonathan was done practicing and as he lept on his bike and was about to start the long Journey to Larkspur when Manfred drove up in the Jeep and offered a lift. They racked the bike on the back and Jonathan climbed in and Manfred treated Jonathan to a lecture on the "beauties of Darkening Shadows and the Barnabbas' Collins" and Jonathan had many belly laughs along the way. Dirk was working out well. He and Roo had quickly learned to read each other. She was his Jedi master in all things Azotus. He liked her and kind of wished she was available. In the Library, Gregor was giving a small presentation on The Desert Fathers and Orthodox spirituality. He sat back on the table and took questions from River, Ked-Woman, Dan, Ward (on break), Sex, Rand and newcomers Brad, Catherine and Ernesto.
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There was a joy in Gregor and a constant revolution of heart and he was a man of faith to the extent that he did not need all the "correct answers". And he loved people and had a natural charisma. So those who came enjoyed their coffees and teas and the biscottis Renata had brought in and they bantered about the oddness of men seeking God in desert caves. Ernesto spoke up at one point and said "Do you see the irony now?" "What irony?" Gregor asked. "That caves once reserved for peaceful communion with God now hide terrorists." Ernesto answered. "What did you just quote from St. Antony?" Rich grabbed up the book and re-read, "It was said of Abba John the Persian that when some evildoers came to harm him, he took a basin and wanted to wash their feet. But they were filled with confusion, and began to do penance."
Ted parked the Suburban out at the point and Paul led him through the garden and showed him his wide collection of marijuana plants. Then Paul put on the kettle and set out some white slated chairs on the small deck overlooking the ocean. They sat out looking at the Pacific pound hard against the rocks below and Ted laughed "How did you get this place?" "The Government," Paul said. "I was a veteran and I filled out paperwork." "I'm happy for you," Ted said. "But not happy for yourself," Paul said, then got up and went to fetch the tea for both of them. Paul came back and placed a small table down and a bowl of crackers and then two sets of tea and the small dark pot. Ted closed his eyes after taking a sip of the tea and Paul knew enough to let him be. He took a large breath in of the Pacific and exhaled. Then he asked Paul if he had any paper and a pen. Paul went off to find and Ted listened more intently and heard whispered through his mind that made sense. He smiled for the first time in a week and drank more tea and Paul returned with paper and pen and left him alone for a few minutes as he laid the paper down on the rough wooden chair arm and began to write what was coming to him.
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Chapter Eighty-Six
It was cryptic, what he scribbled on the paper. It was like poetry and a groan at the same time. He was grateful for the tea and also for Paul being so respectful and aware. What Ted wrote was unlike anything that had come before. It came from the "listening". It excitied him and warmed his heart while also bringing a sadness he had not known. He stopped at one point and wept. His tears were a mingle of joy and regret, one pumping after the other, He felt old and renewed at the same time. Paul came out in a bit and poured him more tea and lighted up some herb and asked if Ted wanted some. Ted said no, he was fine but thanked Paul for his warmth and hospitality. He tilted his head back as the sun started to go down in the most beautiful array and he asked simply "Yes?" And he listened as he was learning and he heard a whisper in his spirit and knew.
At the Comedy Club in Larkspur Jonathan was backstage preparing his monologue which he hoped might become a dialogue of sorts. He had watched Jim, Dan, Jacob, Manfred, Renata, Steve, and a host of others work an audience and make real connection. He was scared out of his mind but determined. He did not wish to be himself, but realized that most comedians felt exactly that way. Which was why they were other people. He decided to simply be "other". He had some prepared materials but wanted to live in the moment of improvisation. When he was announced on stage he came out to a crowd of maybe thirty five people who had already been ruffed up by several local comics. Most had been standard faire...jokes about penises, shit, tits, and barfing. So that was out of the question. "I'm so glad all of you are here!" Jonathan exlaimed. "Except the two people slinking out the back door" he said. "I never liked them. Thanks for the Christmas card last year!!" he bellowed after them as they left. "Oh," he said. "Give me a topic and a character" he said to them. There was silence.
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So he got down on the stage and sat at the front and riffed a bit. "I dunno...what do you wanna do?" I dunno, what do you wanna do?" back and forth in a drawl. There was nervous laughter. Then one man yelled out "The Governer at a KMart that is closing down!" Jonathan stood and seemed to transform into a bodybuilder. He walked in a tight anal stance and flexed his muscles. "Maria!" he cried "Ver are my essential oils? De must be rubbed about my body before governing! Come Heeyah..I feel the need for groping. Heeeyah Rub it on my petoral areas" The audience warmed. Ted drove back from Bolinas and was jumbled in his heart and mind. But he felt he had new direction and his answer to Jim would be a yes, so long as Jim could accept it. That and he wanted it to be public if they agreed.
Chapter Eighty-Seven
That Sunday morning Matisse got up and tip-toed over the stone bridge to the bathroom on the other side. On her desk, when she returned, she saw a note from Jim. Pumpkin, I'm upstairs, come have breakfast with me after Spongebob, Love, Papi
She went over to the flat screen and touched the button and navigated the channels to Nickelodeon. Then she bounced on the bed and kissed the tank with the lobster, crab, starfish and sponge and settled into the bed and watched.
Ted came in at around 9:30 looking haggard and worn. He asked Jim is he could come sit with him when he had a chance. Hans was filling in for Ward who was sick and was doing his usual fine job on the condiment stations.
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Rick and Cara were talking over by the windows and River had recently been seen with Jeremy from time to time. Finally Jim got Martine to take over for him when Dirk came in and he went over to sit with Ted. "What's up?" "I can't explain it," Ted started. "Look I just want to do it, but on my terms." "What are those terms?" Jim asked. "I don't know yet," Ted replied frustrated. "I wish I did...then you could just reject it." "Maybe not...I mean I did ask you," Jim said. "Next Sunday I want to do an informal service in the Library," Ted blurtled out. "What kind?" Jim asked. "A Christian one," Ted replied "...but open like you like...I can do that now." "Okay, good," Jim said calmly. "You set it up and post it on the site and let people know they are welcome to attend." "Will you come Jim?" "If it's important to you, and I can see it is, yes, of course. I'll be there."
Maugham had brought an old ratty hoodie, The Fly sunglasses and some tattered old jeans and an army jacket. He folded his hair up under the hood and that morning shaved off his signature goatee. He took to slouching which was not his way, as he followed her through downtown. She was simply shopping and spending no small amount of money. He followed her through the open market, then she turned suddenly into one of the restaurants and met a dark-haired man in his 50's. Maugham sloped in later near the end of the bar and ordered a beer and some oysters and looked over every five minutes in a partial glance. They were laughing and after an hour and food they got up and left and Maugham followed back to the hotel.
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He waited fifteen minutes then when up to the seventh floor and walked casually by room 702 where he heard grunts from back beyond the door and Candice yelling out to be fucked harder and faster. He quickly ducked out the window railing and around the fire escape near the outside window and (thank God ) remembered to turn off the flash and shot three digital pictures of the man bearing down hard and harder on a wide-legged Candice. On the last shot her head was hitting the head headboard pretty hard. Maugham thought "she's got a full schedule," smirked like a pirate and retreated back to the Edgewater. That evening he came down from Elliott's to the Waterfront Seafood Grill, He paid off the wait staff and the manager handsomely and explained that it was actually an ongoing criminal investigation was taking place, but that no one was in danger. He asked about a Federal Express envelope that they had received from an out of towner for someone named "Alabaster" and they produced it. He asked that they deliver it to her 20 minutes after she arrived and he did not show. Then he asked that they take the envelope when she was done and ship it back using the airbill and envelope he had prepared to the San Rafael Police Department. He gave them Det. Volosky's phone number if they had the least bit of a question. Then he lied and said it was a simply divorce case, he figured if they called he would be long gone by then and so would she. Then Maugham got in the big Lincoln and left for the airport. After he had dropped off the car he went into the lounge and set up his laptop and sent emails via a good wifi connection. The first went to Jim, the second to Martine, and a third to Detective Volosky. The last was to "RCane" explaining that he had been detained but also felt that was fortunate he had not come as he had doubts about their compatibility. He complained that she seemed hard and rough and not compassionate and giving. He admitted she was beautiful and asked her to forgive his not showing up. He offered to pay for her airfare and hotel and whatever other expenses she might have. Just give him the information. Then Maugham relaxed, had a diet coke and longed to be back at Azotus where he belonged. He boarded the plane just as Candice was opening the Federal Express envelope and started to fume.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
When Maugham got back to Azotus it was nearly 1 a m. He called up to Martine to come meet him down in Silo 1 and he plugged in and received 37 emails. 23 of them were spam for fake Rolex watches, a couple more were badly translated Spams like these two of pharmaceuticals: Greetings, As a worthy purchaser we grant you as occasions offer with information and much renews. Notations inform us you may want to have some explanations. We apologize and hope you will take a jaundiced view at medicaments we sell. Again, let us introduce our drugs as attractive prices which may be urgent and all needed. We also offer you impeccable customer care. Please, visit our web site at:
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Maugham just shook his head and laughed. Then this one: Hello, We acknowledge you for being our customer. Thus, we put wise you of information and renovates between whiles. On the basis of our records it seems probable that you'd like to see a refill. We make a thousand and one excuses for troubling you. Our products at low cost are ready-for-service and our highly qualified staff will giveback support to you. It is great opportunity to save money and time. Please browse the URL listed below to see our speciaI offer: Then Maug turned more serious as Martine entered the room and he saw not one but seven emails from Alabaster. They were blistering and filled with rage and accusations. Maugham would have almost felt bad if he did not have pictures of her being banged less than 12 hours ago by a guy in room 702. Manfred came through looking for something. "Why are you limping?" Maugham asked. "Oh indeed I have banged my toe under a box with a great weightedness," Manfred exclaimed. "Manfred, come over here will ya pal?" Manfred had never been called "Pal" by Maugham. Usually he called him "Bakshi" and Manfred would laugh. It was their inside joke. When he came over Maugham showed him the screen and asked him to read it. "ohhhh," Manfred cooed. "at the hearts of such a womenz is a soul long dead." "And what would you say Bakshi to such a womenz?" "Goodbyes and many good thank yoouz," Manfred said quietly. "Thank you Manfred." Jim walked in at that point, came over and gave Martine a light hug and whispered "thanks for loaning him to me." Maugham told Jim all that had happened and all that had not. "Er, can I see the pictures?" Jim said chuckling. "Yes, and the envelope and hopefully fingerprints will be delivered on Tuesday to the detective." Maugham said. "Then I plan on seeing her for the finale in Atlanta next weekend if all goes well and she is sufficiently blinded." "Blinded by what?" Martine asked.
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"Blinded by anger, lust and her own vanity," Maugham said flatly. "Oh, that whole thing," Martine said. Maugham uploaded the images from the camera. "Ooo, that's a good one," Jim said. "Yeah," Maugham countered. "He knocked her head against that headboard a good 8 times. He was relentless." "Any idea who he was or is?" "Not a clue. Probably just another victim." "Tell me about the other letters." "They are a mix," Maugham said. "Some are blaming and shaming and audacious. Others are reconciliatory. One was a poem. I'd say she scorched the earth and left no stone unturned." "What will be your reply?" "I like Bakshi's bead," Maugham said. "A short good bye after she gets another entreaty from Hot' Lanta." "Hot Lanta?" Martine piped in. Jim and Maugham exchanged glances. "Allman Brothers," Jim said. "Oh is this like The Stooges, The Godfather and baseball?" "Sure is honey," Maugham said. Then Jim kissed her on the top of her head. "We can't help it." Maugham crafted two letters meant to slingshot Candice to Atlanta the following weekend. When done he re-routed them to their start locations and asked for specific times for them to be sent in the morning. The one from Atlanta would go first and reiterate interest. The other would follow from the West Coast and be a terse denial then block her emails entirely and say nothing of any consequence in response. Jim thanked Maugham for the excellent work and asked about the oysters from Puget Sound. "Not as good as here," Maugham said. Jim went back to Silo three and went to make up Matisse's bed, but it was already done. Sabine
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worried him sometimes because she was so harsh, but she was an excellent mother. Without her the child would have grown up scattered and utterly unsure, as Jim himself had. So it was good. It made Jim happy that she had her own room and place now. As for Jim, he had taken to sleeping in the big bed alone and accepting it. He heard the soft trickle of the water into the trough as he switched off the light and drifted off to sleep.
Monday mornings were a big deal at Azotus as several of the more important shipments came in that day and stock has to be rotated. Long ramps up the Western backside of the complex and the back lot had to be traversed to stock for much of the week ahead. Of course, pastries came daily, but Jim had also insisted on having forms of protein. To this end Manfred became somewhat of a fry cook in The Doghouse and he began to add a dizzying array of fresh spices, ingredients and condiments to he small plated creations. You could order a simple cheese omelet for three dollars, or a "Manfred Special" for five. Jim had insisted that every Manfred Special would yield Manfred himself $1.25. The rest would cover costs for additional items and eggs were cheap so he was already doing fine profit wise. Manfred, on the other hand, as his fame grew, started to rake in with wages, nearly $24 an hour in the mornings. Between that, and free room and board, Manfred was quite content and started to "plays the stock markets!" with extra reserves. That Monday evening Jim invited Ian, Dirk and Roo out to dinner at a posh Moroccan restaurant in San Francisco. Ian remembered the place well. When he had been Matisse's age Jim had brought him along with some clients to dine Middle Eastern style. One of the clients, a man larger than Jim by 3 inches (6'7") with a large beard had sat next to Jim and when the belly dancer came out and saw the two behemoths, she winked and soon enticed them up to dance in front of all with her. Chakah-shing chakah-shing, chakah-shing went the bells as she swayed her hips and the two of them followed her like out-of-scale mutant lemmings and the patrons clapped and Jim caught Ian's young eyes that burned into him as if to say "You are no longer my father." "Yeah I remember Papi," Ian said, and rolled his eyes. As they brought out the soup and the bread Jim began to unfold his plan to the three of them. He wanted Roo, if willing, to actually move to Boston and find aplace for Azotus there. Or perhaps not move yet, but go out and stay with friends and scout it out for a week or two. She could take her partner if she wanted and Jim would cover all expenses for both. He wanted Dirk to start taking two days off a week and traveling to the City to scout out locations there. Jim would cover all mileage and his meals and he wanted him to enjoy the search and spend some time networking with people there.
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Ian would be the first Azotus to open. Jim already had a bead on a location in Capitola with a small apartment overhead. It was perfect and Ian was pretty stoked. "Who can I take with me?" he asked. "The apartment could house...creatively three." Jim said "So take Ricky and Benn. They have to work long hours but they will have wage, free room and at least 1 day or two off a week." Ian was happy. Then he turned serious. "Dad," he said, "An Azotus in Santa Cruz will be different than here." "That's right son," Jim said. "It's self-defining yet also directed. Have you decided what your first presentation will be this month here?" "I wanna show Big Fish," he said "at an Azotus Movie Night and then I wanna do a small presentation of archetypical dream models in the Library." "Sounds good."
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Steven Hardstet "from Atlanta" got a reply the next day re-routed to Maugham from his friend in Atlanta. It was warm, inviting and wanted to know more about his business. Maugham replied then decided to take a few days off and just read, do some journaling and take Martine on a date or two. They took her Cabrio convertible and went to an Inn in Inverness and lighted candles and the fireplace and made love both nights and stayed up late and talked and slept late. He took her to Vladimir's in town for a lamb shank dinner and Vladimir made quite a point of flirting with Martine. Maugham smirked but knew she was the most beautiful woman who had graced the place in quite awhile. He felt blessed.
Back at Azotus, Jim did not feel blessed. He was dealing with Ted and his neurosis...or series of them.
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Finally Jim just told Ted to do what he pleased and if he wanted advice that he should call Gregor and ask him. Jim suspected Ted was pushing him as a form of self-sabotage and he wanted none of it. "See ya Sunday," is what Jim kept saying. Alabaster's prints from the envelope came to Detective Volosky that Tuesday and he filed them and placed a call to Maugham but got Jim. "Maugham went to Seattle," he had told the detective on Monday. "Is that why I got this envelope?" Volosky asked. "Yes, we thought it was just easy that way," Jim said. "Could play as entrapment," Volosky countered. "Look detetctive, we are doing the best we can and we've been more than compliant." Volosky acknowledged this fact with a simply "True." "We also have pictures of her and another man that she was banging just hours before she was supposed to meet Maugham as 'Brian Cox' for a first date." "Lovely." "Look, everyone here cared deeply about Jacob. That's all we mean to do. Weve played it 100 percent straight with you from day one with full access and we continue to. We find out what we can and immediately pas anything on to you." "Understood." But Jim did not tell him what Maugham intended to do on that Sunday in Atlanta. Ian took Maugham to the airport in San Francisco on Saturday with the top down and they had a good ride. "Thanks for looking after my Dad," Ian said when he dropped him. "Youre his best friend." "Well young man," Maugham said. "He is certainly mine." On the flight Maugham had a good long time to think about his own life. Martine had been unexpected. Jim too in his own way. The flight attendant came by for drinks and asked if he wanted one. "Ginger Ale," he said. She
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was gorgeous and gave Maugham a once over. He had a moment of flattery then wondered how so many people were trapped by their own stuff. This one, this woman, was so self-conscious of her outward beauty that it utterly defined her. She was enslaved. Maugham wondered what enslaved him, but couldn't come up with anything. Then he thought about the plan and ran over it again one more time. Sunday morning Ted woke up nervous. He showered and walked down the stairs from his apartment and got into the Suburban and drove early to the Azotus Cafe. Gregor met him in the cafe and they had one of Manfred's signature omelets, Rich having bacon and cheese and Ted having lox and cream cheese in his. They did not talk much because they did not really know each other. "You want me to look over your notes?" Gregor asked. "No...they are just on a piece of paper" Ted said. "It's a kinda outline." "Okay...wanna go for a walk?" "Okay, sure," Ted said. They walked down the stairs around the West end and down that flight and past the Gallery to where the new fountain was that traversed down the hill. Ted picked up a blue croquet ball from the basket and dropped it in the trough. It ran down the way, spun around the corner of the middle pool and they heard it finally splash at the bottom of the hill. "Well you got that right,"" Gregor smiled. "Yeah..." Ted said then walked down the hill to the middle pool and slid into a chair. Gregor joined him and asked if he wanted prayer. Ted relented and they prayed for a spell.
Maugham hated the long flight to Atlanta via Dallas but he loved the city and he was met at the airport by his old friend Hart who was a software salesman with a wicked sense of humor. The two of them had been inseparable in college until Maugham dropped out. But they kept in touch. They went out to dinner that night at New York Prime in Buckhead and ordered up porterhouse steaks, a martini each and a side of potato skins and settled down to business.
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"I sent her your picture," Maugam said grinning. "It's like when we put the photo under Prof. Leech's office door." Hart laughed with a pirate smirk not unlike Maugham's own. "So Maug, I get to do this black widow?" "Not a good idea. My idea is better." "So you say," as the drinks came and Maugham toasted his friend. "Look, serious. She murdered a man with no remorse and just as a 'warning'." "Well when you put it that way." "I am putting it that way." Maugham explained his plan and how Hart was involved and they agreed it was good. Hart reminded Maugham that he always kept a gun in his car under the seat. "Yeah you NRA guys," Maugham said. "Still, good idea."
Chapter Ninety
Ted stood in The Doghouse in front an intimate gathering of about. Jim had made sure to promote the young man's first presentation at Azotus to many he felt might appreciate it, or at least be gracious if it was a bomb. Alice was there, Dan, River, Rich, Templar, Sex and her Dan, Cara, Martine, Maurice, Ian, Whispah, Jonathan, Manfred and some other locals. Behind the counter Roo and Dirk worked hard with some volunteer help from Hans. Just before it started Rand and Renata came in and Jim went over and asked how she was feeling. "I think the initial morning sickness is over...so pretty good." "How you doing Rand? Ready to be a father?" "Ready as anyone I suppose," Rand replied. Jim turned, walked up the ramp and spoke to the group. "Thank you all for coming, you are most welcome." "Most of you know that we are open and inclusive. That is what Azotus is all about. Well we have an exceptional young man in our midst who feels very passionately about his own beliefs
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and views and he wishes to share them with us." Jim said. "As always, we do not have to be in agreement, but live in respect and mutual concern and try to be open. I have asked, or rather, he asked me...well it's a long story, but Ted and I have been in negotiations on a new project called "Spoke" that he will be heading up. But one of his demands, er....requests, was to start being more vocal about his own views but in a more open and gracious manner than some of the ways he has done it in the past." Jim looked at Ted and smiled and he smiled back as if to say "fair enough." "So this morning Ted has a short presentation, more of a 'homily' if I understand it right that he wishes to share, and in the background on the screen is a matching video he has put together for his words. So without any more boring talk from me, I give you Ted Armstrong." As they passed each other Jim leaned in and whispered "You'll be great." "I have more questions than I have answers these days," Ted started with no notes whatsoever. "But they are also leading me to new answers and ones that I find vibrant. Many of you know me to some extent and I have argued with many of you on many points.
Well, I apologize for my attitude and would like to start again fresh if you will allow me. You see I missed something very essential to all of us and that is simply what we want.
As he said these things various images flashed on the big screen...the birth of a baby, two lovers holding hands, an old man playing an accordion, a weightlifter in a gym, children riding bicycles. There was one big laugh in the middle when there was a shot of Manfred making an omelet and he flipped it three feet in the air and caught it perfectly. "It's my signatures moving," Manfred said quietly to Jonathan next to him.
We all have longings, deep ones. And the question that keeps coming to me lately is what is it we are looking for? You see we are always looking and searching for something. I sat in the library around the corner there one day and looked at all the books and thought of how much energy and time went into each one of them and how many copies were sold and how many people they touched and I wonder 'what is it we are looking for?
As he said this more images flashed interspersed with words on a black screen. A couple kissing (Longing), two kids chasing each other (Friendship), A Sting Concert (Music), a doctor examining a patient (Healing), an old woman praying in a large empty church (Faith). What was it you were looking for? he suddenly said a bit like a preacher. When you saw the first woman you loved smile? When your baby was born? when you walked along the ocean alone and felt good?
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Ted asked other questions about family, friends, nostalgia, old homes and baseball card collections, favored stories and odd smells that brought back distant memories of longing. Jim was stunned as he watched and listened to the young man pour out his passionate vision. He almost started to cry because he felt it so beautiful. But he held back and simply beamed as Ted wrapped up what was, in essence a 15 minute sermon. At the end Ted just sat down on the small stage as the black screen held the words "What was it YOU were looking for?" and Ted just asked the same thing three times: "What was it YOU were looking for?" "What was it YOU were looking for?" "What was it YOU were looking for?" and was done.
Maugham and Hart drove down Peachtree Road to the Ritz-Carlton in Buckhead and Maugham hopped out before at the Bluepointe restaurant and waited for the call from Hart. Maugham walked into the clean restaurant and got a crisp table by the window and ordered a plate of oysters and a diet coke. He decided he would order one drink after a light dinner so he was clear but relaxed. He was slightly concerned with Hart but remembered how Hart handled himself. He was actually more savvy than Maugham. Hart entered the Ritz-Carlton and waited at the bar for Candice. When she showed he was, admittedly a bit stunned. But he sensed she knew this and remembered all Maugham had said. "How was your flight?" he asked as he hugged her. "It was fine," she said and she smelled good and a bit hot. She kept close to him as they walked to the restaurant and looked up at him admiringly. Hart cursed Maugham under his veneer. He got her chair and they admired the room and each other. Like so many restaurants in Atlanta a mixture of old world and new: dark-paneled walls and established decor mixed with progressive new cuisine. "You look stunning," Hart said with a smile and she warmed. "So do you Steve," she said . "It looks like you have been here before." Just then the waiter came up and said "It's nice to see you again Mr. Hardstedt," and Hart once again thanked Maugham in his head for his attention to detail. "Yes, the medallions of beef are wonderful as is the lobster tail with the Rib Eye," he said to her then looked up at William and asked for a '78 Claret and an order of stuffed mushrooms.
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"You'r a bit of a mystery," Candice said to him. "I've read up a bit on your business but I'm not sure I really know you." "Well I am a romantic at heart," he said. "I love art and fine wine and I try and remain close with my friends." "Tell me about one of them?" she asked.
Maugham was just down the way. Having polished off the oysters he asked the waiter what he should order and Brad replied that the grouper crusted in peanuts was an unusual local favorite, but also that the spice rubbed rib-eye was exceptional. Maugham ordered the rib-eye medium rare with fries and thousand island dressing on the side and a Tom Collins. He wished he had hit the gym in the hotel earlier as he felt a little lethargic.
As they finished the mushrooms, Hart said "Tell me about your business. Investment banking is a risky business isn't it?" "Not if you know what you are doing," she said cooly looking away. Hart looked at her and could see why Maugham had warned him. Her blond hair fell down around just above her breasts and her lips were full and moist. He had, as men do, had opportunity to quickly see the line of her. He took a sip, almost a gulp, of his Claret and continued to flirt with her. But he also noted that she was doing a background check on him as she spoke. It was obvious, but only because he knew ahead of time it was coming. Dinner came and she laughed as the lobster meat drenched in butter and lemon dripped down on her plate. He smiled and said "are you having a good time? Are you glad you came all this way?" She smiled and said "I am so very, very glad."
(The above line brought to you by the idiots at Microsoft who also brought you the oh lets just grab the word prior to the
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ones you have highlighted for editing just to piss you off every time and make you have to type it back in functionality. Th ey are like Sith. They are hired in twos, come to work in twos, and work out little insane glitches in the Microsoft products to drive you utterly mad. Those who are particularly good at their jobs as Sith Microsoft Lords are promoted to the Online Help Desk to make certain that no question you have is every answered by Microsoft, particularly the really simple ones like How can I turn off the automatic line feature in Word? This you must NEVER, EVER do. Instead, go directly to Google.com and type in your question in the simplest terms asking for help as if you know nothing and lots of people will have the answer outside of those under Sith control. Me? I am on deadline. The line stays)
Chapter Ninety-One
Jim lead Ted down to Silo 2 and Ted went "Whoa" when they walked in and he saw the large library. "Go ahead," Jim said quietly, "Take your time and look." Ted walked down the bookcases taking it all in. He knew some of the titles and was shocked that Jim owned them. He picked up a copy of William Law's A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life and opened it toward the back. Most of the pages had yellow highlighting and detailed notes in the margins. He picked up another one, a book by John Meyendorff called Christ in Eastern Christian Thought, It too had the same distinct notations and were quite detailed. It had long arguments about issues like "hypostatis" and the implications of Incarnation on Soteriology. To Ted it looked fascinating but he wondered about Jim even more. Finally he came over and sat next to Jim who offered him a glass of wine. It was 3 p.m. but Ted wanted to relax and was anxious to hear what Jim thought of his presentation. Just then Manfred came down with a large plate of spicy chicken wings and various dressings. "Well, thank you Manfred," Jim said looking up in surprise. "Would you like to join us?" "No Sahib, I was just wondering what Mister Ted's was lookings for and thought he might be hungries." Ted smirked a bit but thanked Manfred who then left. "So Jim is this what people are looking for? Chicken wings?" "Some of them are," Jim said "But let's talk first about your presentation this morning." Ted was nervous in his seat. Six months earlier he wouldn't have given a damn what Jim thought on anything. But time and experience at Azotus had changed him. "I was a bit stunned by it Ted," Jim started and Ted recoiled a bit steadying himself for the stream of accusations or criticisms that the older man might render. "And I was quite frankly deeply moved by it." "Ted, one of the key things is it made me think and really look at my own life," Jim added. "I suppose that was your intention?"
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"Yes, it was. But it did the same to me first." Then Ted told Jim what he had learned from Tanka, and also about his experiences out at Bolinas and how he had opened up his soul to God on a deeper and more vulnerable level and started to listen more and he had just heard that message in a personal way for him. As they talked, with Jim mostly listening, they ate the chicken wings, dipping them in the ranch and BBQ sauce and having some wine together and at times laughing (Jim went "Whoa!" when told about the boat incident), and at other Jim would hunker down and listen intently to the man without comment. "So you just wrote it down on one sheet of paper?" Jim asked. "Yes," Ted said. "It just came in a flash of clarity." "That was gutsy Ted," Jim said seriously. "And then doing it without notes even more so." "Thanks Jim," Ted said. "But let me ask you Jim, as I was preparing and asking myself that question I also was curious about you. You seem to be scattered all over the place and sort of looking for everything at all at once and I wonder about your own personal faith as you have wondered about mine from time to time." Jim sat back in his big chair and looked almost glum. Then he spoke, "This is confidential, just between you and I correct?" "Yes, it is Jim. I promise." "Well then I would say your assessment is accurate. In fact I have learned quite a bit from you today. Ive been in a re-evaluation phase the last few months to be sure. Faith is not so easy. I think for many it implies being sure all the time about things and then when things shift they get very angry at God. I personally think we have a great deal more personal freedom, and that faith in God is in Gods character not in the short-termthats our job. Jim said, pausing. But Ill be the first to admit that for all of my outward bravado I have often been ruled by fear, personal fears, and have built walls and kinda of had relationships on my termswhich does not show a whole lot of faith and trust at all if you think about it, does it? Ted relaxed in his chair and had another short sip of wine. Months earlier such an admission would have made Ted giddy. It did not today. "What specifically are you looking for Jim?" Ted asked. "My you have a quick mind," Jim said. "Er, um...well that I can be scattered and, well, the core of your question is what am I really looking for. I mean you were talking about a core passion right?" "Yes, I think so. You could put it that way."
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"Or maybe core passions?" asked Jim. "No, I was looking for the passion behind all passions, the others being reflections...at least that's what it felt like and feels like." "Ahhh," Jim muttered. Ideas where crackling and rippling through Jim's mind but he found they were for other people. "I don't know Ted," Jim said finally. "Maybe that's why the question affected me so. I don't know what I am looking for but there is no denying that I am." They sat there silent and Jim sighed. "But I sure will let your question linger and we'll see." "Now can I ask you some questions?" Jim smiled. "Sure, it's a free country," Ted answered. "Use to be," Jim countered and Ted rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay...how did it feel when you were doing it?" "Well, at first I had a hard time getting past myself, but then I started seeing the faces of the people and it just kinda took over...I guess God took over because I was both doing it but it was beyond me." "Yes, that makes sense. I have had that happen." "Really? When Jim and why do you have so many theology books down here and why are they down here and wh..." "Hold on cowboy," Jim said. "All in due time." Ted sat back in his chair. "All in due time. But in the meanwhile Ted, you are welcome to use or borrow any book down here and if we can come to agreement on "Spoke" then I'd actually like to setup an office area for you down here." Ted could not help but look around the large room and wonder what that would be like.
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Hart finished his espresso and finished explaining, with a straight face, the intricacies of his multi-million dollar business and how he might be very interested in investing in hers. He paid the check and asked what she would enjoy doing next. She gave a slight yawn and said "I am tiring perhaps I should go to bed." Hart knew it was a ruse as she had reverse jet-lag and it was only 7 p.m. PST. He played along. and walked her to the center rotunta of the Ritz-Carlton and kissed her hand and said "Well it was a wonderful evening and I'd like to see you again." "Do you have to go right away?" she purred in close. "Well, you are tired. I understand. You should get some rest." "Well why don't you come up and tuck me in," she said. Hart thought that he suddenly hated Maugham but then recomposed himself. "Okay, I'd like that Candice." They started to walk towards the elevators and then he stopped. "Oh! I forgot...wow...I'm sorry...but I brought you a gift and left it in the car." "It doesn't matter," she said, "let's go." He smiled at her the most sincere (yet unsincere) smile of his like and said "No, no...it's special...I ordered it special. But I'll be right up." She slipped her hand into her large black purse and pulled out an envelope that had an extra red key card and gave it to him. "Then I will see you in a few." "Yes," he said. Then he kissed her deliberately on the cheek (as Maugham had requested), smiled and walked out toward the parking lot.
Chapter Ninety-two
As soon as the door closed behind him he snapped open the cellphone and buzzed Maugham. Maugham had become antsy and had simply walked down and found Hart's car and sort of hid in the shadows. "Maug." "BroHart" "Game on bro." "I'm at your car."
Azotusland "Good. Seeya in two." Snap. Snap.
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Maugham came out of the shadows when he was sure Hart was alone. There was no taking chances with this woman. A man had died and she was serious business. Hart came up casually and lighted a cigarette and Maugham loomed up from behind and said "those things will kill ya." "Yeah, well so will she Bro," he said then unlocked the car door and gave Maugham the gun from under his seat. "She has a gun in her purse," Hart said. "Doesn't surprise me at all. You know I hate guns..but I'll take this one and meet you back at the hotel in an hour. If I am not there by then...or let's say two hours, call the police and give then this card." He handed Hart Volosky's card and Hart handed Maugham the red card key to her room. "I'll see you in an hour!" Hart said as he walked off. "Not if I see you first Bro." And Hart laughed.
Maugham was not laughing. He steeled his mind with the loss of Jacob and how this woman had tried to terrorize his best friend. He remembered to blazing eyes the night she wanted him to bang her while she was still ostensibly with Jim. She was a sociopath and only understood power and threat. Maugham and Jim had run over the options. They had called Martine down to review the final plan to get a more feminine perspective. She made some slight alterations, looked worried at Maugham who feigned it was no big deal. That night Martine came down to Silo 2 to be with Jim and be by the phone. "Could be awhile," Jim said. "What would you like to watch?" "Anything funny," she said .
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"I suppose Love and Death is out of the question?" "Very funny Jim. How about Intolerable Cruelty?" "Even better." And he cued it up on the large screen.
Maugham slided the card key into the door and it blinked open. When he got inside it was dark. This was unexpected. He had to modify the plan and it unnerved him. She called out to him from the bed because he could her rustle in it. He knew the deal. Then Maugham smiled. When he and Hart had been back in college one of their tricks was to immate each other's voices. Hart's was more distinct. It was emphatic, crisp and swift. "Steven, please just come to bed and hold me okay?" "Yes," Maugham mimiced. "I'll be right in just let me prepare." He heard a big sigh from the room as he dropped his coat in the long hallway leading in. He tied his hair back quickly and stripped down to his shorts. He took the gun and under his coat slipped off the safety and moved like a panther into the room and slided the gun down under the bed near the nightstand. Then he pulled back the sheets and was on her. He kissed her nipples and held her full breasts and she moaned and then she wrapped her legs around his body as his hardness began to rub up against hers but as she moved her hands down his back and found he had shorts on she stopped. "Surprise" Maugham said in his own low and steady voice. Then he switched on the light and grabbed her wrists and spread out her legs with his own and said. "Game Over Candice." She struggled at first and even tried to bite him but he gave her a quick warning butt to the forehead and she settled back. Her nostrils flaired with fury and death. "Fuck you Maugham." "I dont think so Candice," he said with spite. "Fuck you Maugham." "Well I suppose I could have fucked you Candice," Maugham said more angry. "But that's like fucking the Grim Reaper."
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"I have a message for you," Maugham said. "You are done in California. They know about Jacob and there is a full-on investigation. We have all your phone, home and account information from this little junket thanks to Steven. NOT HIS REAL NAME. He's already gone." She raised her head up and spat at him, then rose up again to bite him and he gave her a more serious head butt. "Settle down Candice. If you play this right you may escape prison though we'd love to see you either there or a zoo." She tried to move her legs but Maugham's body tensed and he moved them even farther apart. "Now let's get this over" he said suddenly as he rolled off, hit the floor, grabbed up the gun and had it leveled at her head in seconds. She never even got near her purse but was trying when Maugham said "Reach the purse and you are dead. She turned in the small yellow light and saw the gun trained on her head. She was hardly conscious she was naked and only wondered what it would feel like, or not feel like, to have a bullet enter her own brain. It's how her brain worked even when it was threatened. She looked closely at Maughams eyes to see if there was any weakness or sentiment. There wasn't. She slumped down on the bed and Maugham walked around and grabbed her purse, opened it, keeping a sharp eye on her, and found the gun. "I want you to lay face down, on the bed," he ordered. "What, you wanna do me from behind?" she asked harshly. "Do it." When she did he climbed on top bearing his weight down and slipped off his belt and pulled her arms back and belted them together. Then he took a pillow case and used it to muzzle her. As he did, she cursed herself for not having screamed earlier, but he had been utterly unexpected. "Don't move or I will either hurt or shoot you," he said. Then he got off the bed and went and dressed. He wanted to wash his face and shower but not with this one around even tied naked on a bed. When he got back she was still laying there. Maugham sat in the chair and explained things to her. "You have no soul Candice, so nothing can be done for you," Maugham said flatly. "Jim is a compassionate man and I am not. And you exploit compassionate men for your own purposes but you will not ever come near Jim again. In fact you will not return to California. The police have your fingerprints thanks to Brian Cox in Seattle."
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With this news her eyes got wide and she trashed a bit. "See Candy we are onto you completely and so are the police. They have the prints, the pictures from Seattle that I took and also all your personal information. So if you go back to California you will find yourself in the middle of a murder investigation for which they will finally find evidence and you will go to prison." Maugham let this sink in a bit and walked over and grabbed a beer from the bar. "Personally I think you are an animal who should just be shot. I know the way your mind works. You were simply curious when Jacob died and you just watched. I have no doubt whatsoever that had you gotten to this (he held up her gun) I'd be stone cold dead in an instant. That's the way your twisted brain thinks." She calmed down more. "Unlike my brain because I don't wish you dead, just a faded memory. Make no mistake, I will shoot you if need be. Not a question. So are you ready to talk because we need some agreement here if I'm gonna let you live." Candice nodded in agreement. Maugham climbed on top again and undid the belt and laced it back through his jeans. Then he took off the gag and told her to get dressed. As she did he wiped down the room keeping her in sight the whole time. Then he told her she should get a drink and she did and sat back on her bed. "I hate you," she said. "I know. I don't take it personal. Youre a sociopath so it means nothing." She laughed and said "you should have fucked me. Angry sex is great." "No it's not Candice." "You could still fuck me Maug," she said, undoing her top and exposing her breast. Maugham resisted the temptation to torture a lost soul and simply moved to the particulars. "Your plane reservations back to California have been cancelled, as are your next two nights stay here. So you are without a home to go back to, airfare or a place to stay here." Her nostrils began to flair again and Maugham lifted the gun up a little higher. "Let's be rational about this," he said. I am leaving you the card of the detective who is looking into Jacob's murder and he would love to hear from you. They got a search warrant for your
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place while you were gone and have found evidence that would directly link you to the murder of Jacob. In the meantime, all of your credit card information is also being tracked as you are a major suspect in a homicide, so if you try and use them you will no doubt be arrested and extradited back to California and end up in prison the rest of your life. Any questions?" She pondered the options for a while and Maugham sipped his beer. She thought about cutting his throat somehow, but he had both guns. "So what do I do?" she asked finally. "If I were you I'd do more research on the name and nature of another woman named 'Alabaster' and do likewise. Otherwise you're on your own." Then Maugham got up and took one last look around the room, pocketed his beer bottle in his long coat, said "If ever see you again you get two in the forehead from your own gun and they'll call it suicide, which is another option for the already damned." Then Maugham left.
Chapter Ninety-Three
Maugham cursed himself in the parking lot and hailed a cab back to the hotel. In the bar he found Hart looking well but he felt like shit. "You look like shit," Hart said. "I feel like it," Maugham said with some sadness. "What happened?" "Well message delivered, but it was ugly and I feel dirty," Maugham said. Maugham ordered a Rob Roy and slugged it down. "Never known you to drink," Hart said. "I generally don't. But tonight I'll make an exception. Let's go back to your place. I don't wanna be alone tonight if you don't mind." "Alright Maug. No problem." On the way back to Hart's place they stopped at a nearby lake and he tossed her gun deep into it. Then told Hart what had happened in brief overview without specifics. "You're too hard on yourself," Hart said. "I saw the merciless animal in her eyes...she would
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have killed you, or your friend Jim...and you know she killed Jacob." "Doesn't matter. I have never treated a woman that way before and I feel fucking sick." They went back to Hart's place and he poured Maugham a scotch neat and he knocked it back and then went in a turned on the shower very hot and got in and cried slumped his long body in the bottom of the tray. Maugham's mother had been abused both emotionally and sexually by an alcoholic step-father. Maugham had been too young to defend her and she died when he was twelve of throat cancer. From there Maugham had been in foster homes for a long while until he ran away to Sacramento from the Bay Area and started working in a restaurant long hours and was befriended by one of the managers who had an extra room. Maugham also began to grow in stature through his late teens and hit the weight room where he grew into a man. But he always felt chivalrous towards women and despised the cruel usury of men. That was one reason he trusted Jim so much. As the hot water and steam came down around him he held is face in his hands and asked God for mercy if God existed. His prior childhood had precluded God because he never rescued his mother. But God wafted around the edges of Azotus and Maugham knew it. When he finally got out he felt tired and depressed. He dressed and went back into the kitchen where Hart had laid out another drink for him. "You wanna call them?" Hart asked. "No," Maugham said. "But I suppose I should." It was only 9:30 PST when Maugham called Jim and told him it was over. "Did it go as planned?" Jim asked. "No," Maugham said. "Does it ever? But she won't be heard from again. Pretty sure." "You wanna talk with Martine? She's right here." asked Jim. "Sure." "Maugham how are you? I was worried?" "I'm okay but also not so okay," he said. "What does that mean?" "It means I love you," he sighed deeply, "and I am raw and a bit ruined from tonight. I did okay, but I'm not well after it. I need you to trust me. I will tell you everything when I get home...but I am not well," he said.
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"Are you hurt?" "You mean do I have bullet holes? No." "Okay honey. I understand. Maybe we could go to the coast for a few days and just have some down time?" "Yes, that would be good. I love you." "I love you too." And they rang off.
Chapter Ninety Four

Hart took Maugham to the airport at 5 in the morning, gave him a bear hug at the gate and said "That was rough, but it had to be done." Maugham smiled but as he turned to go through the security check his face became grim. He was at war within himself and feared the ramifications when he got back. Back in California, four hours later, Roo opened up The Doghouse with Martine and Manfred. It was now moving into Summer so they left the windows open at night to cool the place off. They had air conditioning, but rarely needed to use it. Roo was still pondering a move across the country to a city that actually had season...real ones. She found that exciting as well as being on the Atlantic. Since their dinner, Roo spemt the mid-afternoons down in the IC with Andy who was excited for her. "Look here Roo," he said. "I have a great history of mechanical enginering that covers the whole Boston area up through Essex and down to Barnstable. Oh, and I have a new file of available buildings with pictures and on Station Four their are bookmarks for properties that have virtual tours." "I'm impressed," Roo said. "Maybe when I go you should come with me." "Oh, I couldn't do that," Andy said. "But I wanna see pictures when you get back." Roo settled in and started clacking away. She wanted to find an area that would be a true melting pot and not dominated exclusively by a university or a business district. It wasn't going to be easy but she just kept at it.
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Ian, Ricky and Benn had taken a roadtrip to Santa Cruz, or rather Capitola which is just to the South. They met the property manager, an affable man named Mr. Thompson and they toured the building. It was at the North end of the street on the main drag along the beach with windows that faced out onto the inlet waterway. The outside was brown stucco. They walked around the outside and there was a tall seawall about 30 feet from the back of the building and plenty of patio space. Ian looked at Benn who smiled. Then Thomason took them inside and Ian looked at the L-shape of it and started to do the math on the various areas. The long large room to the right could be walled off and soundproofed for the larger venue. Where he was standing would be the Library area opening back toward the front door where the main cafe would be and the front doors from the street. He liked that it had lots of windows and an open airy feel. The ceilings were also a good twelve feet high. "Okay Mr. Thompson, can we see upstairs?"
Jim and Martine had argued a bit about who would pick Maugham up from the airport but Jim had prevailed. "I don't like the sound in his voice," she said sternly. "Well this is our business Martine." "Oh, really. I just sleep with him and love him..what do you do?" "Fair point, but I love him too. " "Which is why you send him to do your dirty work?" "You know darn well he wouldnt let me go and he sees it as his job, and frankly, that is part of it. You may have noticed that Maug pretty much does whatever Maug wants around here. Security is his show and he's damned good at it." Martine frowned. "I just want to debrief with him on the way back, then you can have him as long as you want. Take a few days off with pay. Please."
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The upstairs was just empty space with pipes for plumbing in the center and back against the far Northern wall. But it was enough space for an apartment with three small rooms, a kitchen and a nice open area, On the south side they would have to dual purpose the IC with Ops. There would be no Batcave and the Theater would have to be part of The Doghouse downstairs. As Thompson talked about a contractor he knew Ian, Benn and Ricky walked over to the windows on the North end that looked out to the West on the Pacific and on the quiet inlet in front of them. They were stoic but exhanged silent glances in a long established communication. It was good, very,very good.
Chapter Ninety-Five
After Manfred brought the car around for Jim he went to the back lot and examined his new prize. A black 2002 Toyota Tundra. Jonathan met him in the lot and said "You maniac!" in his best Bill Murray voice and Manfred beamed. "It is a wonderfulness is it not?!" "It's a beauty Manfred, how much, it looks pretty souped up?" "Oh wells Mr. Clusky was asking sevens thousands dollars and by jove I could not do that! So I went back to his shop every other day in the afternoons and put $4,000 on his desk." "What happened?" "He was laughs at me at first and called me silly. Then after a weeks he was getting red-faced when I saw heem and all I was doing was explaining to new friends on his lot his utter resistances to give me the truck for real moneys. So's I went in yesterdays for...oh, say maybes 33rds times and revanquished heem and we transacted our dealings." "Wow...nice job," Jonathan said. "Yes, and I gots heem to do free undercoating and fills up the tank!" Jonathan got into the passenger seat and took a look. "Man, this is way cool! Look at all this room and the back seats...man you got a steal on this one." Manfred fired up the big truck and slapped in a CD and Tom Petty's Don't Come Around Here No More came on. "Oh I loves the sitars and Pettys!" "Yeah, me too," Jonathan said, "and as usual, your timing is impeccible, now let's go get this thing."
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"Stops walkings down the street...." Manfred was singing to the music, "or Manfred's whose you'll meet..." and Jonathan just looked out the window and shook his head.
Whe Jim pulled up at SFO Maugham was waiting out front with his bags. "Sorry, traffic!" "No biggie," Maugham said "I've been here maybe four minutes." Maugham stowed his stuff in the back of the Jeep and got in. "What would you like to do Maug?" "Let's drive back along the Pacific Coast Highway and maybe hit the Cliff House," he said looking quietly ahead. Then he lightened a little and said "Haven't you lost like every woman you ever took there?" Jim laughed a bit sheepish. "yeah, I think I am 0 for 7 there." Maugham grinned and said, let's go there.
The desk Ted had picked out from the catalog turned out to be a monster and barely fit in Manfred's big truck. They needed the help of four at the office store to get it in safely and rope it down. As the drove back Jonathan looked over at Manfred and said "how are we gonna get that thing up and around to the office? "Oh peoples will helps," Manfred said interrupting his mangling of "Free Fallin'". When they got there Ted was waiting at the steps and his eyes kinda bugged out. He was embarassed. Jonathan got out as Manfred backed the truck and he directed him in. Then they got out and looked. Just then Dan Palmer walked up with a friend. "What's up?"
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"Not the desk," Manfred said quietly. "This your desk Ted?" "Yeah, it looked smaller in the catalog," Ted said. "C'mon," Dan said motioning for Ted to come with him. "Then he draped an arm over his shoulder and said "Here's a new question you can ask us." When they got to the top they went in and took a look. Before Ted could object Dan said aloud "This young man needs some assistance! Tell them what you need Ted." Ted shot Dan a quick glance and Dan nodded. "I could really use some help, I er...well I made a mistake..." he trailed off. "What'd you do misplace something you were looking for?" Jeremy said aloud. There was some light laughter. "No," said Ted. "I just got too big a desk and we need some real muscle on this one, and maybe a tool set." To his surprise several men, three of which he did not even know stood up and two women, Sex and Alice. So a minute later there were ten of them walking and talking down the steps toward the big truck and behemoth desk.
As the Jeep swung down the hill , passed the Zoo and along the stretch of freeway Maugham said "Boy, I sure miss that Mustang. Remember the time we took it down to Half Moon Bay in the middle of the afternoon?" "Yeah, that was sweet," Jim said. "I miss it too. I miss a lot of things I once had. How about you?" "Not ready to talk yet Jim," Maugham said seriously. Let's get some oysters...those little lame ass ones from Seattle they have up ahead and a couple Bloody Mary's."
When they all gathered around the truck and finished untying it the twelve of them looked like stumped apostles. Finally Alice said "oh this is ridiculous," and she popped the top of her small truck and grapped two tool buckets with powered tools and said "Take it apart and let's get the
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The men grabbed tools and started looking for where to attack. Alice rolled her eyes and laughed with Sex standing next to her. "You four each take a corner," she said pointing "and put the screws and bolts or anything else in your left pocket," she ordered. "The rest of you get ready to haul the pieces up as Ted directs and put them down in a similar order to how you grabbed them." "What are you gonna do?" Dan asked with a grin (he liked Alice). "I'm gonna sit here and watch your cute ass get working," she said. Ted went up the stairs to start clearing a way for pieces and Jeremy hiked up after him and helped. "Hey Ted," Jeremy said. "I didn't mean anything with my crack upstairs. I actually thought about your sermon or whatever the hell it was a couple times this week. It was good, really." "Thanks Jeremy," Ted shrugged. "If I'm gonna do this stuff for Jim I am gonna have to grow a sense of humor anyway." They entered the Gallery and Hans stood up at attention sensing impending chaos. "Vat is going on boys?" "Uh, 'lighten up Francis' Ted said and Jeremy laughed and Hans looked bewildered.
At the Cliff House they grabbed a table overlooking the ocean and ordered some fried calamari, a dozen oysters, and a jumbo shrimp cocktail and drinks. They sat for awhile and finally Maugham said "Jim, I feel pretty fucked up from the whole experience." "What happened?" "As I said, message delivered, but it was more violent and dark than I expected." "Did she attack you?" "No," Maugham said. "If anyone attacked anyone it was me." "I don't believe it," Jim said. I've seen you handle a hundred situations with finesse.
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"This one was different," Maugham said taking a big gulp from his Bloody Mary. "And you dont need to know it really...but I have to tell Martine." "Was she harmed?" "Physically, nothing major, and in a sense it was self-defense at the time. But I doubt a judge would see it that way...and I sure as FUCK don't!" he said kinda loud. That got some stares. Jim could see Maugham was wound up tight. "Well tell me what you feel comfortible saying and tell the rest to Martine. I'm sure she will understand." "I doubt it. I sure as hell don't."
Wave after wave of men came tramping through the Gallery tracking in dirt and dust and hans was beside himself. Finally Alive and Sex walked up and through the Gallery and down into Silo 2. Sex went "Wow!" and Dan looked over at Alice and said "what now?" in a mocking tone and she laughed and said "just get to it. All you guys reach into your left pocket and no funny business." Within 25 minutes the desk was reassembled and Manfred showed up with beers and sodas. Ted flopped up onto his new desk and said to the group "I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you all. Thanks so much." A couple of the guys left right off and others lingered to look at books and make small talk. "So this is Jim's underground lair," Sex said to Alice and Ted. "I suppose you are the new Number Two." "I felt like it earlier, but not so much now."
When they finished and got back in the Jeep Maugham asked, "What are your plans now?" "I'm not sure Maug. A lot has changed the last few months and I am not done making changes. I
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have actually thought of retiring and doing something else after the new cafes are established. Maybe I'll learn to sail or write a book, or go back to school. I dunno. I'm kinda lost right now." "What happened to the girl?" "Same thing that happens when I come here. My fault really...always is." They drove along the coastline past Baker Beach and the Presideo and dodged under the freeway at the Golden Gate Bridge and twisted around and headed North. On the bridge Jim said "I'm sorry Maugham. She was dangerous to everyone but I never thought you would get hurt and you obviously are." "Well at least she's gone," Maugham sighed and looked out at Alcatraz. Maybe you should look up Rachelslowly. Shes smart. Shed understand if you let her in. Jim just looked out too, but he was thinking too.
Chapter Ninety-Six
When Jim and Maugham got back they parted quietly with a hug and Maugham slung his bag over his shoulder and started up the hill. Jim diverted to the North side and swung through the Gallery. Hans was still sweeping up. "Hi Hans, how are you?" "Just Perfuckt," Hans said gruffly. When Jim entered Silo two he was tired. He walked to his desk but on the way called out down the way to Ted "Big enough desk?" Ted started to protest and explain and Jim held is hand up and said "It's fine Ted...I told you to pick out what you wanted. Looks fine. Now I am tired. Please do stay but I'm gonna watch the news and have a drink. He had a glass of Bordeaux and slumped into his chair and grabbed the controller and made HAL dish up CNN.
When Maugham walked into their place Martine came and hugged him and he felt awkward. She could see his troubled sadness and she tried to be upbeat "Hey Jim wants us to take some days
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off and go to the coast." Maugham slumped back on the bed and said "could you just come lay down next to me and hold me?" Then he fell asleep for an hour and she lay there wondering what had happened to her man and what he had possibly done. The next morning they got up early and packed quietly and got in her Cabrio without talking to anyone and headed for Inverness to a place Rich had mentioned to Martine while Maugham was gone. Martine had been with other men but not one as good but also complex at Maugham. She tended to let him come to it on his own. So they just drove. In the morning Jim came into The Doghouse and asked Manfred to meet him for lunch and said that Dirk would fill in. Then Jim went down and visited with Andy for awhile just lounging. Ted showed up early and enjoyed that he had a key. He went through the books and started to stack a bunch on his new desk and setup. He brought in his laptop and setup his wifi connection in a secure fashion. Templar showed up after a week's hiatus and was soundly greeted. He had been in the Bahamas on a "case" and all had worked out well, so he was back now. Jonathan came by and Templar agreed to come and see him on Saturday at the Comedy Club with a date. Hans walked out of the gallery, which had not been visited much lately and went and sat on the cement wall and smoked a cigarette. Then he took some croquet balls and started to roll them down the ramp. He wondered what it was he was looking for. He liked Azotus and his job, but he felt unfulfilled on other levels. Just then Jonathan walked by and in a perfect impersonation did both Bond and Q "Balls Q? Bollos 007, bollos."
When they got to the retreat house in Inverness it was still early and foggy. Martine and Maugham walked in the bottom door and she went and used the bathroom that was made of stone. Maugham walked around and a lot of books were on the shelf. He looked at the titles and they seemed pretty boring and of no real interest. Jack, the caretaker came in and introduced himself and Maugham told him they had been sent ahead by Rich and that seemed good enough. They asked for the room above the chapel that Rich had recommended and when Martine returned jack walked them up past the "quiet floor" to the top room. It had too beds and once Jack had excused himself Maugham pushed them together. She shut the door and looked out what was like a captains cabin of an old pirate ship. Hardwood, glass windows all around. Maugham looked at her hungrily and she came over and lay on top of
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him and kissed him. "Don't you mind we are over a chapel?" "Jim says God invented love and sex," Maugham said, then kissed her hard and wrapped his long arms around her and she moaned. Then suddenly he stopped and fell back and looked up with some torment. "What is it? Talk to me Maug." "Yer not gonna like it," he said, "cuz I hate it." She got up and sat on the floor and said "I'm here." He got up and sat on the floor to the side of her and he groped for words. "It was ugly Marty," he said finally. "She was laying in wait for Hart and I showed up, only she had turned out the lights. She didnt know it was me at first. I freaked out in the dark. I mean I did and I didn't. I don't do well with the dark, you know that. You know how we always argue about leaving the candles on?" "Yeah." "Well this was like being in a dark, very dark place with a malevolent spirit..like confronting your own death or something...plus I knew from Hart that she had a gun nearby." She took his hand and stroked it lightly. "What happened?" "I pretended to be Hart for a moment." he said looking off. "What does that mean? Did you sleep with her?" "No, I didn't no way. But I felt a rage well up inside me...one I do not understand and it's fucking me up in the head." Maugham noticed that Martine had not removed her hand. This gave him more courage. "It was dark and she wanted "Steven" (he did the quotes motion) in bed and she was obviously naked. I had expected her clothes in the light but I had Hart's gun so I pretended to be him and slipped the gun under the bed." "You got in bed with her naked?" "I had my shorts on," he said quickly. "Well thank God for that," she said and took her hand back. "I didn't say this was easy," he said defensively. Look I am deeply disturbed by this, so can I just
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finish? I just need you to be my friend for awhile, okay?" "Okay," she said wiping away a tear. "Things went bad once she knew it was me. I switched on the light and held her at bay." "Naked." "Yes...look she came that way." "Here is the worst part," he said sadly. "Twice she tried to bite or fight back in a violent manner. The first time I had her arms and I gave her a warning shot with my forehead. The second time I kinda lost it and game her a real knock." "So you were on top of her while she was naked and you head-butted her?" "Yes. But it gets worse." Martine got up and paced the room and started to cry. "How could you?!" Maugham started to cry as well and held his face in his big hands. "Can I just finish and get it over with? If you like I can take you home afterwards but I love you and I need to tell you the truth. You can do with it what you will!" he said in a moment of self-pity. "She looked at him in anger but then softened and sat down. He tried to wipe her face "Don't!" she said. "Just talk." "I know she had the gun but not where it was in the room, just in her purse. I knew if she got it she would simply shoot me. So I rolled off and got to mine first. I have no idea if I could have shot her but my whole demeanor had been somewhat savage." "I'll say." "I had to deliver the message so she would go away for good," Maugham said tersely. But she was still dangeous...very dangerous and the gun was still in the room. I could not afford a mistake, so I tied her up." "Naked?" Maugham felt that best to clean it all out and let it be. I she was gonna hate him then so be it. "I pointed the gun at her and ordered her to roll over then I used my belt to tie her hands behind
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her back and used a long pillow case to gag her." "Well aren't you fun on a Sunday night...got plans for me?" "This was serious...she would have shot me if I made the least mistake...that what you want?" She bite her lower lip and said nothing. "Look once I had both guns it went a lot smoother," he said. "Right, naked tied up woman who has been head-butted twice and you have two guns. I could see why you felt you had the upper hand," Martine said. She, somewhere sensed she was being unfair, but she was hurt. "Then I negotiated with her and untied her and asked her to get dressed, which she did." "Then what?" "There was a heated exchange, then she tried to come on to me." "Yes, well some women like that stuff a lot...just not me." "I told her she was like death, then what we had all agreed upon before hand and she bought it. Hart had everything cancelled and we left her with no options as agreed. I was not dealing with a total human being...more like a dangerous animal...you know that." Martine stood up and said "You're a pretty dangerous animal yourself," and left out the door and down the stairs.
Chapter Ninety-Seven
That night Jim had a series of dreams that were derived from High School times some 30 years earlier. In the first, they had all gotten back from a field trip very late and he and his girlfriend had slept out under the stars. She was also suddenly his ex-wife, but younger. At one point he removed his own pants because he wanted her, but she was asleep and he felt kindly towards her and just nuzzled her neck and rested a hand on her breast. In the morning he was supposed to shower and there was a line if you wanted to roll under the doors of the shower stall, get up from the wet floor and shower, or go around and try another way. Jim had gone straight for the other way and found the walkway into the stalls broken and collapsed, with only a few inches inbetween, impossible to squeeze through. But then as if he grabbed the shiny steel wall and pushed to the left he could get through. The others still waited outside and he went into the shower stall and found it was open air on the other side and that people were walking by. Still there was a long row of magazines in slanted display that came up
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a good five feet so he started to shower. The water started to splatter on the popular magazines and ruin them but Jim figured, in the dream, that some idiot had built the shower system this way. Still, his shower was short. When he was done, he dressed and walked down the left until he was on and along a thin strip of land with a pond in front of him. He stopped, looked at the lake and said to it "You're my subconscious I suppose?" The pond did not reply. "Well you should put in some Koi." Then he walked down to the small bridge that lead onto the campus. The dream shifted, or perhaps Jim did in his large bed. Now Jim was being taunted by the gym coach, a man who looked like Mike Ditka and who threw the football way too hard on purpose and wanted Jim to run away. Jim didn't and the coach yelled why not, and Jim said "because you are faster than me by far so what's the point?" Then he went to get some water and there were only two people at one spiggot, three at the other side. He got in line. But the line kept growing which became exasperating. Finally he was in a line of about 200 plus people and they kept shifting to the left, and by the time Jim noticed he had lost his place and went farther back. They moved again with the same result. Jim was patient, but when they got to the far left, and the wall leading down, there were clearly about 300 people waiting in line and the same down at the bottom for the other spigot. "You people are fucking insane goddamnit!" he yelled out and everyone turned and there was very hostile murmering and a teacher looked down from the wall and said "we don't talk that way here." At first, Jim was self-conscious of the teacher, then he thought, "fuck him, what's he gonna do shoot me?" He felt they hated him and he felt ambivalence. He turned and there was only one kid behind him, and he did not look angry at all and quite happy to be last. Jim thought of how bad his grades were, how he seldom went to class, and that he could find water elsewhere. He also realized that his parents were gone and that he was free to move anywhere and enroll in a different school. But which school? Well, anyone would be better than this, but he figured he could research them and find a good one and start over. He knew he would be alone, but he started down the hill to find a different place to live and be.
Martine walked slowly down Sir Francis Drake towards the small town. She sifted through what Maugham had said and what the three of them had discussed before Maugham left. She was relatively certain that the woman would have shot Maugham and that she was responsible for the bomb and also the death of Jacob. She remembered that Jim always said "context is everything" then she thought "Fuck Jim! Fuck Jim and his secrets and how he puts him in danger. Asshole."
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It was still early and the store was open so she went in and bought a large coffee and then walked out behind the store to the marsh and found an old table looking out over Tomales Bay. It was so peaceful and she looked out and saw the heads of two seals bob up and down in the bluegreen waters and she wanted Maugham there with her arm around her. But then she didn't. What had happened to him? Couldn't he have just turned the light on and told her to get dressed? Back at the retreat house Maugham finally slumped downstairs and sat in the chapel. It was dark wooded and simple. There were some candles lighted but no one else was there. He looked up at the figure Christ on the cross and muttered, "what are you looking at?"
When Roo showed up that afternoon in the IC, Andy was excited. "Hey, when Cara was down here she saw that the screen next to hers had all this information on Boston. Guess what?" "She's a Red Sox fan," Roo said flatly. "Who isn't given the Yankees?" "No Roo. She's from Boston. Just moved out here three years ago with her husband. So we got to talking and she made some suggestions...but I like this one best." Andy clicked on a bookmark and a host of information on Provincetown, Massachusetts came up. "Have a look," Andy said smiling and Roo smirked and started in.
When Jim came into the Upper Cafe he spied Dan reading a book and Gregor sitting next to him. The two had, over the last few months, attended each others presentations at Azotus and enjoyed each other's quiet company. Jim got some coffee and walked over and asked if they were willing to sit out on the deck, even though it was a bit warm. "What's up Jim?" Gregor asked. "Well I had a dream last night and I wanted to ask you two what you think of it...I mean its probably just the Kung Pao Chicken I had last night."
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They agreed and moved their drinks and books and journals out on the deck and admired the view of the valley for a few moments then Jim recounted the dreams as fully as he could. "Well, what do you think?" he finished. "What do you think? Really," Dan said. "It's your mind and dreams are part of mind, as is experience." "Well, the common denominator is water," Jim said, "in three instances yet somehow related, right?" "Well you have the shower, the pond and the impossible fountain," Rich chimed in. Seems like you named the second one right in the dream to me, so what do you make of the shower?" They talked for an hour about the inaccessibility of the shower, yet Jim had found a way to be refreshed and cleansed despite odds against it and the sheep-like mentaility of others. When it came to the pond they quickly moved on, although Dan said that the desire to see Koi in the pond might be the desire to see and experience beauty and wealth on a subconscious level. Given what he had already created externally and hoped to in the future it made sense to him that some inner work was being avoided. "I think your not running from the menacing coach is telling," said Gregor. "But is there some despair in there?" "Probably," said Jim. "But I also stood up to him, answered and didn't let him shame me," said Jim. "Yes, that's obvious." "Why do you think you keep getting jostled back in line waiting for water?" Dan asked. "I dunno," Jim said, "No one was being mean, they were very unconscious of their acts and did not seem to even know that they kept moving and that the line was getting bigger." "So no one was actually getting any water?" Dan asked. "Ahhh...said Jim. "I never thought of that. The whole time I never saw anyone walk away after drinking. The line just got bigger and longer." "Yes you were the only agitated one, right?" Gregor asked. "Yes, I thought all of it was bullshit, so I said so," said Jim. "But not at first?" asked Dan.
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Jim pondered. "No, I went along for awhile and accepted the herd mentality, but eventually broke away with a new plan and started walking toward that alone." "No there was one kid behind you, was he part of the pack as well, just behind you?" asked Dan "No, he was about five feet back just looking at me," said Jim. "Who do you think he is in the dream?" "I dunno, they say everyonein your dream is an aspect of you, but I think that is a load of crap. But in this case, maybe my more passive side who is always just a little behind. What about you two?" "It's the Buddha," Dan smiled. "It's Jesus," smirked Gregor and they laughed together. "Hey, hey hey..." Gregor then said, "he is last in line. 'The first shall be last'...huh, huh?" and they cracked up again. When they stopped Dan asked, "When you went walking down, did you pass the pool again?" "No, I woke up before I could see what came next." "Damn!" Gregor slapped his leg with a grin, and they all sat back and had a sip of what each was drinking and once again admired the valley.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
Maugham drove around town in her car looking for Martine and finally found her, probably only because there are only five businesses in town and two trails. He had no idea what to say or do. He parked the car and walked down the marshy trail and found her sitting on the top of an old worn picnic table and looking out at the bay in a distant way. He simply sat down next to her and looked out as well. Finally he said "I don't have a lot of answers now, but I could sure use some help finding some." She turned her head and looked at him hard and he kept looking out. She was always good at reading him...his layers, and she could see some inner torment and a confusion that she had not seen in him before. It was one of the reasons she always felt so safe because he was so clear. Now he was as muddy as the shallow marshlands in front of them. She thought that and it made her want to laugh a bit. She studied how his jaw clenched and the gravity in his cheeks and brows.
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"Let's go make some late breakfast," she finally said. Then she grabbed his large paw and guided him back down the trail and into the store where they bought eggs, butter, chicken apple sausages, some locally baked croissants, some fresh spinach and a fresh lemon. She also picked up fresh orange jiuce, a bottle of champagne and a copy of the Chronicle. Then they drove back to the retreat house and set up camp in the big kitchen.
That afternoon Jeremy marched the kids up from the Batcave up to the Library and they did an extended story time with some of the kids reading from books they had made for the class and which would be bound into the yearly collection for the Azotus Library, was published online, and which Andy would layout online in a private "published your own book" site so parents could order one created one by one. It had been a project that Jeremy, ever resourceful, had devised. In the meantime, he had met a young woman named Nadine who was quirky and fun. He liked her and was hopeful she would not become another story in his ongoing chronicle. Meanwhile Alice was putting the finishing touches on the small hillside that was framed by the pools on the North side. At night the crystals would light up and during the days the light him them at various times through the trees and the plants she chose were done with great forethought and care for longevity and beauty. Just up the hill Hans had sold three major paintings in as many weeks and the Gallery was starting to gain a reputation as a place for both affordable and high-end art. Upstairs, Manfred had cut down a great deal on his American soap opera watching and was concentrating on both the stock market and was watching Mexican soap operas. Up in the top Cafe it was full all afternoon with a line and a lot of newcomers. At 2:30, Renata, Ward, Dirk, Ian and Jim relented and asked Andy to open the IC and Jim went down to help with overflow. On the way down Jim started thinking he needed more staff.
Maugham was grilling sausages because it was easiest while Martine was washing and prepping the spinach. For the time being they only talked about what they were doing. The kitchen was big enough to feed a small army and the kitchen had a big old Wolf gas range with eight large burners, plenty of worn pots, and every utensil on earth that any retreat group had left behind, as
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"You do the eggs and sauce last," Martine said. "So when you get the sausage done cover them and put them in the oven on warm. "She dropped the spinach in the shallow boiling water, gave it a stir, and covered it. Then she said "Wanna see the easy way to get the yolks?" "Sure, who wouldn't?" he said snidely. Martine cracked the first egg over one bowl then parlayed the yolk like dice in a broken cup back and forth allowing the white of the egg to keep slipping off with each motion back and forth until in one half of the egg shell there was only an unbroken yolk, then she slipped that into the second bowl. "Hey, let me try that," Maugham said. "Sure Big Man, give it a shot." He took the egg, cracked it perfectly in the middle and grinned, then he started to sluice it back and forth and there was soon scrambled egg yolk all over the counter. "Maybe you should do this part?"
Delphia and her Keds had not been around Azotus for awhile. Then she showed up that day in the late afternoon and had herb tea and hot chocolate in the upper cafe. Dirk took notice of her immediately and liked the way she interacted with her son. He had actually been raised by a very nurturing father and an absent mother so he could tell. He also thought the Keds adorable and her look classic. He wondered who she was and asked Renata in the back and Renata just said she was wonderful but a but mysterious.
The spinach was steamed and Martine had asked Maugham to prepare a medium pan with hot water as she began to make the Hollandaise sauce, dropping the big chunks of fresh butter and then turning down the heat so it would simply liquify, then as she started to beat the egg yolks she asked Maugham to retrieve the sausage and start preparing the plates. "Ya'Voll Mein Commandant!" he said.
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She whipped it then added some cayenne pepper and fresh sqeeezes of lemon and some salt. As she poured the warm butter into the mixture she said "No please crack four eggs into the hot water without breaking the yokes." "Hey this cooking stuff is hard," he said. But he complied. The first one broke apart and while she was distracted he fished out the remanant as best he could into a bowl and tossed it. Then got four in a row. As the Hollandaise mixture was returned to the saucepan and place on low she grabbed a large slotted spoon and said "watch this." She "coddled" the eggs like a master, keeping each one separate yet folding in upon itself in the hot water as it turned whiter and whiter. "Now here is the trick," Martine said. You cannot overdo them, but if underdone they will fall apart when you try and get them. "They look a little like oysters," Maugham said. "Just get the plates okay? Oh and give the spinach very light salt first." Maugham brought them over in both hands like a waiter and she spooned up the eggs onto the fresh hot spinach and then grabbed the saucepan and ladeled the warmed and thickened light yellow sauce onto the top making sure there was plenty down one side for the bread and the sausages, which were alread on the plate and still warm. Then she had him take them out to the table on the deck and she followed with the orange juice, champagne and a small bottle of Tabasco. They sat down, looked down and laughed. No utensils or glassware. Maugham leapt up and sprinted and came back in moments with both and napkins under his arm. "Hey, I don't wanna be a spoil-sport but are we supposed to have alcohol here at a retreat house?" he asked. "I mean I hardly ever drink anyway." "I dunno," she said, "but yer a pirate...just make it happen." He was a little hurt by this because he had lost a lot of his swagger over the last few days, but he did as she said and popped the cork under the table and mixed two Mimosas. As he did, Martine dropped three small dots of Tobasco sauce on the top of the Hollandaise sauce which made the plates even more beautiful.
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Just then Jack came out the back door onto the deck and said "Uh, er...we have a group retreat coming in an hour." "Oh we're sorry jack," Martine said earnestly. "We promise the entire kitchen will be cleaned up in 30 minutes, okay? I'm sorry." Jack thought about it, and agreed. "Okay...thirty minutes, right?" "Yes," they both said together. "Okay." He went back inside, and Maugham said , "Come what may, Thank you Marty." "You are quite welcome Maug. " And they started into their large breakfast and Martine made sure to keep Maugham glass full as he ate.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Ted was down in his new "office that Tuesday afternoon and doing a lot of work on the Internet with a new site, and experimental one of Jim's devising called "Spoke" which was very difficult for him to wrap his mind around. "How am I supposed to do serious theology with real depth on Christ while also publishing, alongside Buddhists, Hindus, Sikhs, Muslims, Athiests and God knows who else?" was the question he kept coming back to. Jim had kept telling him that "Depth Pluralism" would advance the quest for truth more than any polemic that shut down real dialogue, but Ted just was not sure. "Should we be open to everything and anything? Was this the same old crap about all roads leading to God when in fact they most often lead to whoever was currently the Roman Empire or wanted to overthrow them?" Jim had warned Ted that he would largely be on his own but that Jim would help where he could. To begin with he had suggested Ted review C.S. Lewis' views on the pursuit of truth and its many variations and also the poetry of T.S. Eliot (with a few suggested poems) and also the writings of the Dalai Lama. Jim confessed he did not know much about Islam and that he lamented that since it was a faith which also has common roots with what he and Ted shared. "Why do you not come out with what you believe in your deepest places?" Ted had asked.
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"Because it is just my personal experience and belief. I have often been largely mistaken and this is a place for real community and dialogue, not the imposition of my ideas or ideals," Jim said. "But you impose your idealism of dialogue and community," Ted answered. "True enough. What's the alternative? Alienation and quiet hatred and suspicion?" "You are a Pragmatist," Ted said. "And you are a very smart and bright young man to say so," Jim said. "But whether you choose to believe it or not, I also have faith that God can take care of God's own self and that despite all appearances often, God is love and love prevails." "Does love prevail for you?" "In some cases, yes, often no," Jim answered. "But we have been handed freedom to an almost terrifying extent. Often when love does not prevail it is because of that terrifying freedom we all possess." "So God is just the Grand Watchmaker who winds it all up and leaves," Ted said. "Maybe exactly the opposite my friend," Jim said quietly. "Sometimes what is reality is just the most opposite thing we could ever believe. We just do not have eyes to see or ears to hear it"
Martine and Maugham made a point of wolfing down their gorgeous breakfast, then Maugham sent Martine up ahead to the room with the rest of the champagne and orange juice and two fresh glass as he tore into the dishes in the kitchen. It was not thirty minutes, it was forty but no one had shown up except Jack and he seemed to be pleased with the progress in the kitchen and said nothing more. Maugham finished and was tired and a bit woozy. It had been an uncanny series of events, like something a farcical novelist would make up. Just too much in too many days. He slugged upstairs and hit the bathroom on the second floor and splashed his face with cold water and then turned up the thin stairs to the top room. When he got there Martine had lighted three small candles and she was sitting on the floor right where she had been earlier before leaving.
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As he sat down she poured him another drink and he said "You trying to get me drunk?" "It's my truth serum," she said not unkindly. "I told you the truth," he said directly. "Yes, I know," she replied. "Now tell me more." "What else is there to tell. I'm a scumbag and a violent man," he said. "No, you are not," she said. "I've seen you in twenty situation at the cafe and you handled each one with a calm firm care. So it's not that." Maugham took another drink. "Do you love me?" she asked. "I adore you," Maugham said. "And in my book that is beyond love." "Do you trust me?" "Yes, I trust you." "Well I spent a lot of time in that marsh thinking it through and I have some questions," she said. "Okay baby," he said, feeling a bit more tipsy. "You said it was the dark that set you off, right?" "Yes...definitely the dark and her damned rustling in there." "When have you been most scared in your life?" He thought about it and kept going backwards until it hit him like a bomb and he would have reacted with anger to anyone but her, even Jim. He started to weep and she reached out her hand and placed it on his leg and let him cry for awhile.
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That afternoon, with Jim's permission, Roo made reservations for herself and Telia to Boston. "We have reservations this friday and will land at Logan International at 8 p.m. their time," she told Telia. "We'll stay the first night at the Bulfinch Clarion, and I've setup a rental car for the next day to drive down from Boston. We'll stop in Plymouth and Barnsdale before reaching Provincetown." "Don't we want to stop in Sandwich and Orleans?" Telia teased, batting her eyes. "Sure Baby," Roo cooed back, "we got four days and nights and plenty of ground to cover. I'll take ya to Orleans anytime."
Ted was reading Eliot's Choruses From the Rock when he came across this: Let me show you the work of the humble. Listen. In the vacant places We will build with new bricks Where the bricks are fallen We will build with new stone Where the beams are rotten We will build with new timbers Where the word is unspoken We will build with new speech There is work together A Church for all And a job for each Every man to his work. What life have you, if you have not life together? There is not life that is not in community, And no community not lived in praise of God. He did not know what to do with this except it matched his own dissatisfaction and also his desire.
He kept reading, and wondering how this man of the twenties and thirties could forsee the modern world and the Church? He kept reading.
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"I know what it is," Maugham said slowly in a quiet agony. "What is it honey?" "I told you my mother was abused by my stepfather." "Yes." "Well it always happened at night when it was dark in the house, or at least dark in my room," he said quietly, his face still a smear in his large hands. "I felt so utterly helpless in the dark hearing him beat her and call her "whore" and "bitch" and I wished to God, I prayed to God to become a man so I could stand that man down and kill him, man to man, face to face. But it was like everytime I heard him assault her it mingled with the darkness." Then he broke down again. She listened and did not try to make it better for him. "Worst was when he would assault her sexually. It was a small house and I would hear him wrestle with her in the bed to have his way," he said. Then he looked up at her with tears down his rugged face and said "have I ever mistreated you in any way?" "No," she said. "That's why I am still here. You are a very kind man and yet strong. It's why I trust you." "Trusted right?" "No, trust.," she sighed. "Have some more champagne," she said.
That evening Sabine dropped Matisse off with Jim and they went down to their room. Jim had long noted Matisse's supurb artistic eye as he had none whatsoever. He had bought her an easel and some acylic paints and had asked Hans to come down and explain how to use and mix them
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as well as what brushes to use. This happened, of course, after she and Hans had done the drawer game in the gallery and he had taken her around to show off new paintings. "I like this one Hans," she said. "Vie?" "The colors make it pop in my head!" she said looking up and smiled. Hans smiled and then the three of them walked into Silo 1 and Hans gave instruction and Matisse set to work while Jim ordered some Thai food to be delivered to the Gallery and this time he insisted Hans join them for dinner. Jim left twenty minutes later and went and sat at Hans' desk and waited looking at the paintings and marveling at the gift of human imagination added to true skill. As he waited he also thought about the dreams from the night before, He had been feeling for some time like he needed a new venue, like things were both collapsing and also opening up at the same time and he could not make rational sense of it. He remembered Kierkegaard's saying "Life can only be understood looking back, but must be lived forward." "Ain't that the truth." Jim said to himself as the food was delivered. Jim paid for the food and tipped the young man and then walked down through the darkroom and to the left and down the stairs. He could her Hans fawning over Matisse's work and knew it was no act. Jim set the table and pulled around three chairs then jumped over the trough and peaked his head in Matisse's room and she and Hans turned and said "Out!" He closed the door and yelled out "dinner in ten minutes!"
Chapter One Hundred

Three nights later, or rather in the middle of that night, so it was actually very early Saturday morning, Jim had another series of dreams that, to him, seemed related to the others. Jim was a rational man, but he knew enough about himself to see that what might really be going on inside was not only mysterious, but was bubbling up past his own considerable internal defenses. He also sensed his own resistance to what it might mean, yet could not deny its truthfulness. Like all of life, it was what it was. In the first dream he was in his mother's house. He did not realize in the dream that she was long since dead or that his mother had never lived in such a grand and sun-filled house. It was near the ocean because you could hear it and the notable point was the entire long house bordered the sea with nothing but white wooded greenhouse paneled windows. Inside it was roomy with a simple opulence.
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Jim was, for some reason, unemployed and he knew it. He was poor and needed money. He noted when he came in the back door into the greenhouse area that the door itself was heavily damaged and needed replacing and some heavy carpentry. One whole panel, perhaps fifteen feet wide and twelve feet high was ruined and would require considerable work. Jim thought to find his mother and ask, perhaps even beg, that she let him find a room in the house somewhere and just be treated like a hired workman and make some money by doing these fairly substantial repairs for a few weeks. As he walked down the long sunlighted hallway he called out "mother?" and was also thinking of all the wood, glass and supplies he would need for the job so that when he found her he would have facts on hand and not just be "a dreamer". When he got to the end, he found the shower room and all three big nozzles were full on. He thought that very strange. He kept looking for her around the big house but it was abandoned. The insides became like a storefront and as he walked by he saw one of his old bosses whom he liked very much. He walked in and there was a very small woman at the counter asking for a job. And the man was eyeing her skeptically. When she turned away Jim recognized her and said "do you remember me?" "Of course," she smiled "who could forget you?" Then she hugged him. He turned to the man and said. "You can trust this one. She will do you well," and he hired her on the spot. In the second dream he walked into a restaurant and saw a woman friend who was happily married. She was a Christian, but not of the "check-your-brain-at-the-door" or judgmental types. No, her faith simply added an almost "seventh sense" to her life. She was sitting with others and she invited him over and he went and sat next to her and she started to tell him about a man who was driving by her house and would park outside and wait in case she came out and when she did they would talk for hours. Jim did not like the sound of it for her own safety and whispered to her "what does your husband think?" She laughed and said "Oh he doesn't know, but it's fine." Then she and others picked up and all of them walked to a rectangular table in the center of the restaurant. Jim followed out of curiosity. The sat down and started to talk about how weird the journey of faith was. The humility required, and openness and they were laughing at themselves and each other as the food came. It was good hearty heart-attack inducing breakfast foods...fun foods like stacks of pancakes, big waffles with slabs of butter, thick syrups, sausages and lots of eggs of various ways. When it was all laid down the other five stopped and all smiled at Jim. "What?" Jim asked innocently. "We are waiting for you to pray, if you would." He searched their faces and every one of them was warm and relaxed, even curious back. "Er, okay, but I haven't done this publically in a long while," he shrugged then took their hands and prayed aloud a blessing...at first. Then it turned and his mind opened up like a vision and as
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he spoke he described the beautiful cold fresh air of Tamalpias in early morning, he saw how beautiful and glorious people when unadorned, and how precious life was and that the love of God was both ethereal and organic...and to this he spoke to God in a reflected poem that was not entirely just Jim. It was as if he and God were praying together or like Jim was in God's lap on a swing and he was 7 year's old yet also 52. Then others came into the restaurant and they started to sing and they joined hands, perhaps 250 people as the room expanded in a large circle and he saw several people from his youth, and a man he had befriended in his own 20s who had been in a wheelchair and he now stood. His friend grabbed his hand and they all started to walk to the left still holding hands. Then they went faster and faster and the ring of people would break apart but they would grab new hands as they went faster and faster and the circle playfully came together and broke apart in a free but connected dance. Suddenly they were outside but still running and laughing. Still in an ever-opening and expanding circle. Jim was grabbing new hands and running faster and faster and soon his speed was incredible and he noticed that he was not tired and that he could use burst of speed or lay back and meet others as they ran alongside or in hand. Then he decided to test out his legs and he put on a burst where he blew past a whole pack of people and he could see each cobblestone underfoot perfectly so that each foot placement was perfect, almost art, yet he was moving faster than he ever had. Then he woke up. Both dreams made sense to Jim in wildly different ways. One was about his past and the other, it seemed to him, might be about the future, which was really his current question. Jim knew he would get no more sleep, so he got up, threw on some sweats and a longsleeve pullover and some old socks and tromped into Silo2 and sat down at his desk. Then he got up and walked over and looked behind the petition and saw Ted snoring at his desk. Jim smirked and hoped the young man would work it out on his own. Jim was still working it out at twice Teds age. He knew he had the clear option of getting major venture capital for the new Azotus Cafes, and that it was just the beginning. Jim could simply be the CEO. He could travel. Maybe he would find the right woman and settle down in a nice quiet house just up the mountainside. He'd get a dog and maybe cultivate a hobby that was simple and personal. He'd keep in regular contact with the other Cafes but let them have all the hassles. He'd run both dreams by Gregor and Dan, but he already knew what they meant. Now the question was, did he have the guts to act on it and make such major changes to his own life?
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Martine placed herself in Maugham's shoes, not as a man, but as a scared little boy in that room. Suddenly the whole story tipped upside-down for her. So she spoke it. "Sweetheart," she said softly. "You see yourself as your step-father, right?" "Yes, who wouldn't?" he said head down. "Had you been drinking?" "No." "Did you come meaning to demean or do harm?" "No." "What was your motive?" "Just to protect Jim and make her go away." "Why is it so important to protect Jim?" "Because I love him and he's like my only family, well...except you now." She liked the sound of that, but let it pass. "Do you mind if I ask some more questions? I am going somewhere with this, just trust me, okay honey?" "Okay. I do," he said. "There are three people in each story....when you were a boy, who was being threatened and attacked?" "My mother." "Who is being threatened and attacked in this current story?" "Jim." "Who is the attacker in the first story?" "My stepfather Brian." "Who is the attacker in the new story?"
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"Me." "You threatening Jim?" "No." "Who is the attacker in the dark?" "Me." "No Maug. You are a seven year-old scared out of his mind in the dark trying to make the attacker stop." Maugham said nothing. He sat with it. Then Martine got on her knees and came over to him and cupped his chin in her two small hands and lifted his head up and with tears coming down her face she said "Candice is Brian, not you." He blinked and searched her face. "Don't you see Maug. It doesn't matter that you are a man and she is a woman. It doesn't matter you are stronger physically. You are just that scared little boy in the dark who wants the heartless attacker to stop hurting someone you love. To stop hurting your family. I don't know why I couldn't see it earlier. I guess I was just shocked by how physical you had to be and the element of rage that was there. But if it had been Brian naked in that bed attacking your mother, and you handled it the way you did, we would not be having this conversation would we?" Maugham thought about it. It was foreign to him. He was so full of shame it was hard to see it through her eyes. "Let me think about it, okay?" "Okay honey," she said then curled up next to him and under his long arm.
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
Renata was beginning to push and Rand was doing all he could to encourage her. Outside, in the waiting room Jim, Ted and Hans all paced. The end of the pregnancy has not been easy and there was some sign that one of the children had an irregular heartbeat. Jim finally sat down and stared away in space and started to think about ad known Renata and what they had shared as friends.
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In some ways she was like another duaghter to him and he liked the way that she and Mattisse and always read each other. Jim respected Renata because she lived out her own faith quietly and with love and dignity. Now she was in there fighting for her life and also her babies. Ted slumped down next to Jim and closed his eyes. Jim figured he was praying. "You figure it does any good?" he said two minutes later. "What? Prayer?" Jim asked. "Yeah, you're a Heretic...I figured you would know." Jim smiled. It had become a joke between them, often working in the same room on their various projects. Ted called Jim "Heretic" and Jim would often answer "Well you're no Fundie anymore,' or just call him "Fundie". "I dunno Ted." Jim said quietly. "It does seem God has given us a terrifying freedom and that our lives, while possibly pointed at His Life are also totally our own here and now." How else do you explain all the bad things that happen to people who love God..or for that matter, those who don't...given grace.?" Hans continued to pace in a straight line exactly 20 paces each way. Ted pondered, then said, "You never really answered the question." Jim did a gallow's chuckle and said. "Well, some people believe truth is paradoxical. In that case both would be true. We have a terrifying freedom, but God does answer prayer...sometimes...I guess God has an even more terrifying freedom than we have." Then Jim grinned at Ted and leaned in quietly. "Hey...you know how people complain about God wanting to be praised and thanked all the time." "Yea..I have heard some good comedy acts on that," Ted said. "Well maybe it's because God has the most thankless job." Just then the docter came out looking grim faced. "Are you her father?" he asked Jim. "Close enough." The doctor looked at Ted. "Brother," Jim said quietly. "We lost the first baby. Her heart was just too frail and undeveloped." Jim head slumped and he started to cry. Then he caught hold as Ted put his hand on his back. "Go on...how is she and the other baby?"
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"She is going to have some complications, but they are not life-threatening," the doctor said. It was just then that Jim focused on his name tag. "Steven Hurley." "Dr. Hurley," he said . "how is the second child?" "She is well. Strong and in good health. She is a little small at 5 pounds, but that is not unusual for twins." "That is all I can tell you for now."
It was a Saturday and Ward was running most of the place. Roo was off in New England working on the final plans and designs for the Azotus Cafe there. Martine and Maugham were also helping and Manfred was scurrying about even though he really did not have to anymore. Over the many months Manfred had kept investing and re-investing his money into small companies that bank-rolled Mexican soap operas that Manfred was cataloging on his Tivo and then tranferring to DVD via Andy's hot new tower down in the IC. The stocks rose gradually until, at one point four of the seven programs he had invested in were bought out by a huge American conglomerate with over 37,000 stations nationwide and several deals for overseas and Internet rights. Manfred might as well have bought mass quantites of Google stock at 4. None of this stopped Manfred from still pilfering Jim's ice cream, nor did it deter him from bringing the car around for Jim. In fact, on New Year's Day of that new year Jim came out expecting to find the Jeep and Manfred drove up in a brand new 2006 Yellow Mustang GT soft-top. "That your's?" Jim asked him. "No Sahib" said Manfred grinning wildly "It 's yours!" Then he got out of the car and left the door open for Jim while the husky engine blabbed on. Jim settled into the seat and smelled the leather. He looked up at Manfred and said "sometimes Manfred you overwhelm me." "Oh I saw that movies!!" Manfred said clapping his hands. "Only's it did not make very much sense Sahib because they switching of the adversarial to the wonderfulness and dog was much too sudden. I mean, they ignore him all the ways homes and then whammy! Suddenly he is over-whelm-mecated?" "It's a point well-taken Manfred. Thank you for the car. I assume I cannot convince you to take it back?"
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"Oh no Sahib! It would be like all your other directives in their utter uselessness." With that Manfred turned and skipped up and down around the outer path of Azotus. But he stopped when out of sight and walked slowly. He loved Jim and it made him happy to see him happy, if only for a few moments because he sensed Jim's deep sadness.
Martine and Maugham had been married for four months. Maugham, a life-long bachelor, could no longer conceive of a life lived out without her. She seemed to reveal new things every week than made them more One and despite his own dark side he decided he was always safe with her and he truly was. It was a mystery as to how she became this way. How she had kept her sense of self, honesty and inner strength while also being vulnerable and compassionate. It just was like any force of nature. So, in November of the previous year they hiked up Mt. Tam and Jim and Gregor co-lead a service for them in the presence only of close friends and family. On Maugham's side that was no one except Jim in front of him. Martine's mother was there and sister. The Azotus was closed down for the day, or better yet, being outfitted for a very large and exclusive party. Maugham looked pensive but handsome and sleek. Martine was radiant and funny.
Jim lay in his large bed, alone with just a few candles lighted down by the fish grotto. He was deeply distraught by the loss of the child. He wondered what the point of so much striving was. "Death inevitably comes," he thought. And for him he reasoned it might be anywhere from tomorrow till some 25 years. But it would come. "The bell tolls for thee" he muttered aloud, then took a swig of wine and tried to sleep. That night he had a series of dreams that were once again disturbing by morning. In the main one, he was trying to buy a car. It was unusual Thunderbird that was a sort of conglomerate of all the best ones, except bigger...much bigger. In the driver's seat it had gyros and gadgets and a playful instrument panel like a 767 built for a teenager. The outside was sleep, full-bodied and curvatious like a woman.
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The owner, an older Hispanic man, had led him through the garage of cars to this very one and given him the keys for a test drive. Jim felt like a kid in a candy store, or more accurately, Charlie with the Golden Ticket. He took the big cruiser out on the highway and opened it up. It was a marvel! When he got back the man walked up and had a piece of paper in his hands. It showed the blue book value at $18,000. But he had crossed that out and written $9,200 in it's place. "There," he said. "I will give it to you for this..but just you. And only today." "I don't have it" Jim said, even though he knew he had plenty of money. The man looked up at him sadly and said "You have a poverty of spirit." Then Jim woke up. Four weeks later Jim sat down with Matisse and they took their shoes and socks off and dropped their feet into the fish pond trench. "What's the matter?" she asked straight up. "You always know, don't you?" he said looking straight ahead. "Well daddy is going away from a short while." "Why?" she asked. "Where would you go?" "I need some time with God," he said. "It's a lot like the time you need with me, which is what makes this hard." "Where will you go?" "Not far really," he said. "It's just a few hours North of here and it is not like you will not see me at all." "Have you lost yourself?" she asked. "Yes pumpkin, that's a good way to describe it. Yes. How did you get so smart." "Momma says it's your fault," she grinned then laughed. Jim laughed too. "Will you call me?" "I won't have a phone," he said. But promise I will send you letters, one every week." "How long will you be gone?" she asked tearing up a bit. He put his arm around her. "I dunno honey. As long as it takes." After that they got up and watched a movie cuddled up on the couch in front of the big screen, then they went to the table and folded origami animals till ten p.m. when Matisse got tired. They placed the small animals on the mantle in a long line, then Jim tucked her into bed and marveled at her features. She was as keen and brilliant as her mother, but had Jim's vision and sweetness. It
Azotusland
Readers Copy
made him feel happy for a moment, then he walked into The Doghouse and plunked down on the bed and wondered how he could possibly pull this off.
Rachel Williams had also made a change of sorts. Her willingness to consider abandoning a six-figure career for a 60-hour a week high-pressure circus named Azotus had opened her up to consider all avenues of avocation. She had pulled up stakes from Silicon Valley and moved over the hill to Santa Cruz to an amazing townhome backed up to a eucalyptus forest and given herself a sabbatical year to write her dream book on a Uniform Science of Humanity. The book had been her dream for 20 years and she has the expansiveness of mind to pull it off. It consisted of a whole new model of the human sciences that was inclusive, dynamic and relational instead of competitive, exclusive and reductionist. It consisted of a flexible web of epistemological lenses from every discipline and tradition that looked for connection information given relevance and resonance. To Rachels knowledge, no one else was working on this, but it was in utter harmony with many things Jim had written about at Azotuscafe.com, including his recent article on Depth Pluralism. It seemed that utterly independent of each other, she and Jim had stumbled upon many of the same authors, were attracted to many of the same ideas and concepts and were headed in the same direction. Damn the man! She was attracted to him on all levels and knew darn well she had only scratched the surface. Since giving up, she had dated but was utterly bored by the men she met. If she had been a mean person she might have interrupted one of them during a discussion of their investments to ask them about Ancient Hebrew poetry, or about their thoughts on the social construction of reality as it relates to partisan politics in America, but she just sighed instead and thought alternately about constructing an Azotus Caf dartboard with Jims face at the center or about kissing him.
In reality, nothing Jim wanted to do was impossible so long as he had Maugham. They took a Saturday and rented kayaks and rowed across Tomlaes Bay to the old Lewis Boat Works. After some exploration they sat on an old log with their toes in the sand, had a glass of wine and some crusty old bread, some soft Red Hawk cheese from the Cowgirl Creamery in Pt. Reyes, and talked about their lives. "She makes you happy?" Jim grinned. "I'm embarrassed by how happy she makes me," Maugham said. "It scares me sometimes Jimbo." he said looking out serious as the water lapped into the small cove.
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"What's the one word that comes to mind for you when you think of Martine?" "Babe-age" "No, serious." Maugham thought for awhile and twisted off an other hunk of bread. "You know we should have gotten a jar of Johnson's" "You know I don't hit that way," Jim said. They laughed then settled down. "I guess," Maugham said after a time and a swig of wine, "I'd have to say 'grateful'." "Word." Jim said. They smeared more cheese on the bread and sat for awhile before Maugham said "so Jim, you never do anything without three or four reasons...why are we out here today." "That obvious huh?" "Yep. I can read you like a novel...just wish it wasn't Tom Clancy." "I'm leaving Azotus One in your capable hands for a period of time, maybe for good. Your's and Martine's. We will renegotiate whatever deal we need to to make it fair and right." "What if we don't want it?" Maugham said squinting. Jim looked at him like he was a hair found on a fresh sweet roll. "okay, okay...but why?" "I'm going away for awhile, maybe for good...I dunno." "Don't be an idiot," Maugham said. "I've been one, and for a good long while Maug," he said.
Six weeks later Jim pulled the Mustang into a small shaded area on the North Coast and pulled out his three bags and hiked up the hill. There was a note pinned to the door. "Welcome Jim" it said "I'll call on you in a week or so." and it was signed "Fr. Drake" There was no lock on the door or need for any key. Inside it was sparse, white and cold. No phone, electricity or gas, just an old woodstove that Jim immediately set to lighting up. The front room had one long window overlooking the mountains. A small bedroom had a single bed hardly long enough for Jim, but He'd make do. Jim had brought warm clothes, a cell phone, which he turned off and a satchel of books including The Book of Common Prayer, two books by Merton,
Azotusland
Readers Copy
Bonhoeffer's Ethics, a Bible, a book of Zen Koans and the latest Sports Illustrated edition on the upcoming baseball season. In the last satchel he had some food supplies and utensils, candles and a bottle of brandy. He took out the brandy and measured a small cup and drank it down as the woodstove began to heat the small house. Jim sat down and looked out the window as it started to rain lightly. He opened the window a bit to get some cold wet air mixing with the hot harness of the woodstove. Then he flipped to the chapter in Bonhoeffer on the difference between the Ultimate and the Penultimate.
Within the hour, he fell asleep with hundreds of voices receding in the distance.
Book Two & Three: Azotusland East & West

Azotusland

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5/3/2013

2005 Christopher C. MacDonald

First Readers Copy | 2005 Christopher C. MacDonald

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Azotusland Jim came down. You two met?

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Azotusland Yer a doll, Alice.

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Azotusland "That's Troll to you Maug," Andy said. "Any food?"

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"ah shit...." he sighed. "This is hopeless.

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Azotusland (Just kidding.)

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No, the common denominator is always me. _____________________

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Azotusland "About...elusive as ever Mike."

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Azotusland will find the rest. Hugs, Rnonynmous

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Azotusland and saw everything as art.

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