The ninth installment of the first draft of a novel written by our old friend Terra Cognita. Our Sunday Serial.
Terra welcomes all suggestions and feedback — this is draft — you can note them in the comments.
Chapter 49
My chocolate malt had completely melted and Detective Chip Gardner was on his second cup of coffee. Dev, Cindy, and Roxy had left a half hour earlier.
“And that’s what happened,” I said. Despite all the food, my stomach felt empty.
“That’s all of it?” Gardner asked.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“I don’t want ‘pretty much;’ I’d like all of it. Can’t help you if I don’t know everything.”
“You want to help me?”
“I’m a cop. Here to protect and serve. So yeah, I do want to help you. From what you’ve told me, you were coerced into going along with these Sea Org guys.”
“I didn’t have to. I mean, I didn’t have to go with them. In fact I regretted it the minute I got in the car with them. I should have called the cops right away.”
“That’s right; you should have. But you didn’t and here we are.”
I took a sip of melted malt. Because it was there and I needed something to do besides staring at the table. Still tasted good. Hopefully, the caffeine in the chocolate would keep me alive.
“So what now?” I asked.
Gardner glanced at his watch. “Now we get some sleep.”
“So you’re not gonna arrest me?”
“Not right now. Though I reserve the right to do so in the future. For instance, if I find out you’ve been lying to me…”
“I haven’t been.”
“Glad to hear it. Didn’t think you were.”
“You gonna talk to Doug and Brenda down at the Org?”
“Wouldn’t be a very good detective if I didn’t.”
“And what if they like…contradict what I’ve said?”
“Then we got a problem.”
“I told you the truth.”
“I’m counting on it, Rick.”
Twenty minutes later, Lieutenant Gardner dropped me off in front of the Little House and drove away. I wished he would have waited around.
Chapter 50
Two guys dressed in white shirts and black slacks were sitting on the couch in the Little House when I walked in the front door. It was two o’clock in the morning and what little caffeine had been in the chocolate malt had been overwhelmed by dopamine.
“Where’s Roxy?” I asked.
“Resting in the bedroom,” the leaner, older one said. His mustache was all black. Streaks of gray ran through his sideburns. His pasty-skinned associate looked about my age and had done a masterful job of popping the field of zits covering his chin.
I crossed the room to the bedroom and peaked in the bedroom. Roxy was lying on her back in bed staring up at the ceiling.
“Hey,” I said.
She rose up on her elbows. “Hey,” she said. “They showed up a minute after Dev and Cindy dropped me off. They must have been staking out the place.”
“They say why they’re here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They’re here to take us back.”
“I figured.”
“How’d it go with Gardner?”
“Better than expected. I’ll tell you all about when we have a little more privacy.”
She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. “Might as well get this over with.”
“Might as well.”
Inside the main room, we turned around the table chairs so we faced the two.
“You guys got names?” I asked.
“You can call me Ted,” the older one said. Junior didn’t respond.
“I guess you’re here to take us back, right?”
“You guess right. Want to grab a toothbrush and a change of clothes?”
“I would if I was going with you.”
“I wasn’t offering you a choice. You’re coming with us.”
“No. I’m not. Hate to say it, but you guys came all this way for nothing.”
“We’re not leaving without you,” Ted said. He turned to Roxy, “Go outside and get in the van out on the street.”
When she didn’t move, he said, “That’s an order.”
I put a hand on her thigh. “He doesn’t own you,” I said.
Ted leaned forward. “And neither do you. What Roxy does or doesn’t do is none of your business.”
I turned in my chair. “You want to go with these guys, Roxy?”
She shook her head.
I turned back to Ted. “She doesn’t want to go with you.”
“You know…I really don’t give a shit,” he said, standing up. “Roxy! This is an order! Get your ass out of that chair and march your sorry, out-ethics self out to the van. Now!”
She stared at the floor and shook her head.
“Now young lady! I said to get your ass out to the van! I don’t want to have to tell you again.”
“She said no. She’s not going with you,” I said.
Ted walked over, grabbed her hands and yanked her out of her chair. I jumped up and shoved him in the chest. Which might not have been the best strategic move but it did cause him to let go of her hands and stagger back two steps. He glared at me hard. His sidekick sat frozen on the couch, his face zit-red.
“Leave now or I’m calling the cops,” I said.
He turned to Roxy. “One last time. I’m telling you to come with us. Don’t throw your life away. You’re Sea Org. Your parents are Sea Org. All your friends are Sea Org. Your whole life is Sea Org. Remember what you signed up for: to change the world; save the planet. Because no one else can. No one else is doing fuck-all to change the conditions of this planet for the better. Come on, Roxy. You were born for the SO. It’s what you were trained to do. What you were destined to do. Don’t throw it all away. Come back to the Base with us and we’ll sort all this out. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
I sniggered. “Yeah, right. You’ll throw her in the Hole is what you’ll do.”
“The Hole’s a rumor spread by a suppressive media.”
“You’re either lying, dumber than you look, or so drunk on Kool Aid that you can’t think straight,” I said. “Google it. The Hole exists. Ted.”
He shook his head like I was some little kid to be pitied. “As if you can believe anything you read online. There is no Hole. So come on, Roxy. Let’s go. You know what the right thing to do is.”
“The right thing is for her to stay here. She goes with you, you’ll beat her down until she can’t fuckin think for herself.” I turned to Roxy. “Stay here with me. We’ll work things out. You go with them…you’re fucked.”
Roxy faced Ted. “He’s right, you know. I go with you guys and if I don’t end up in the Hole, I’ll spend the next ten years on the RPF.”
“That’s your bank talking, Roxy,” he said. “Sure, you’ll go to Ethics and work up the conditions…but that’s all. There’s no more ethical organization on the planet than the Sea Org. I know that. You know that. So, come on, let’s go.”
She put a hand over mine and looked into my eyes. “I gotta go with em.”
“No you don’t,” I said.
“Yes. I do.”
“No…”
“You don’t understand, Rick. You wouldn’t understand.”
“What’s to understand? You go back with them to your shitty old life or you stay here in Santa Barbara and start a new and better one.”
“And never speak to my parents ever again. Or the rest of my family.” She shook her head and gazed out the window. “Scientology is all I know…that and the Sea Org. I don’t know anything else. It’s what I’ve been doing my whole life. It is my life. It’s what I’ve been telling you.”
“But isn’t Scientology all about changing? Getting better? Handling what’s ruining your life?”
“Scientology is ruining no one’s life,” Ted said. “Scientology is saving lives. Thousands. Every day.”
“Jeez, Ted. You sound like a fuckin infomercial.”
“I wouldn’t know. Because I don’t watch that shit.”
“I know. You’re too busy saving the world.”
“Laugh if you want…but it’s the truth. We got the tech. Nobody else does.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Ted.”
“Don’t have to. I know it’s the truth.”
I followed Roxy’s gaze out the window. Wasn’t much happening at that hour of the morning.
Roxy stood up and turned to me. “Thanks for everything you’ve done, Rick. I really appreciate you looking after me.”
“Just wish I could complete the task,” I said. “Stay with me.”
She shook her head.
Ted said, “You’re making the right decision, Roxy. Good girl.” Like she was some kind of dog.
He turned his attention back to me. “We’re can’t physically drag you back…but you really should return with us. It’ll be better for all concerned. I promise.”
“How the fuck can you make a promise like that? You have no idea what would happen to me if I went back. Just like you have no idea what’ll happen to Roxy.”
“Except that I do. What’ll happen is all spelled out in green on white.”
All Scientology rules and policy were printed with green ink on white paper.
I laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s one of things I love about Scientology. There aren’t any arbitraries. We all follow the same policy. Which are all contained in the Green Volumes for everyone to see. Nothing’s hidden. It’s all right there for whoever wants it. You ought to check it out some time, Rick.”
I grabbed a pen off the table and walked over to Roxy. I took one of her hands and wrote my phone number and email address on her wrist. I didn’t know if she’d ever logged on to a computer before. I assumed she knew how to use a phone.
Ted snickered and grabbed for the door handle. “Okay, let’s go.”
Junior jumped up from the couch like he couldn’t wait to get away. The three walked outside. Fuckin-A.
Chapter 51
I flopped down on my bed. My body pleaded for sleep. My brain said, “No way.” Just in case Mr. Brain got overruled, I closed my eyes and conjured up images of camping in Sequoia National Park the year before. Images of the high Sierras lasted about ten seconds before their lakes and mountains were replaced with pictures of Roxy.
I imagined her sitting in the back of a nondescript sedan. I made the car a Chevy. Ted drove. Junior stared out the windshield at the Pacific. A quarter mile later, I switched Junior to behind the wheel and placed Ted in the back seat with Roxy. To make sure she didn’t try jumping out of the speeding car. Which at sixty-five miles per hour would have been suicidal.
I’d really thought she was going to stay with me. That we’d established a connection. But something deeper. Something more significant. Something I’d never felt with Patty. Or with any other girl in my life.
Fuckin Ted. And his smug, Kool Aid-drunken smirk. I wasn’t a fighter—not in the physical sense—but I would have gladly fought the guy. Beaten the shit out of him. No way would I have lost. Not to him. Not in my dreams. Sometime before the sun rose, I fell asleep.
I woke to the sound of knocking on my front door and Dad calling out, “Rick. Get up. We have an appointment downtown at eleven.”
I glanced at the clock beside the bed. Ten-fifteen. Fuck.
“Gimmie fifteen to shower and get dressed,” I said.
“Come to the house when you’re done. Don’t be long. Lawyers charge by the hour.”
Hopefully, the first consultation was free.
A half hour later, Dad parked behind the law offices of Connelly and Boston in a space reserved for visitors. We didn’t have to wait long before a secretary ushered us into the office of Kellan Connelly. I happened to know the dark wood covering the bottom third of the walls was called wainscoting from having come across the word in a recent novel. One of the plaques behind his desk proclaimed he’d graduated from the USC School of Law twenty three years earlier. He came around his desk and shook our hands.
“So…Scientology,” he said.
Dad said, “Yep.”
I nodded.
Connelly centered an expensive-looking pen over an inexpensive yellow pad. “Your dad told me a briefly why you’re here. Why don’t you take things from the beginning and tell me what happened. No detail is too small.”
I took a deep breath. “Well… I was on the Purification Rundown when…”
“No,” Connelly interrupted. “From the beginning.”
“From before I even got into the whole thing? Like before I walked through the front doors of the org for the first time?”
“At this point, we don’t know what’s significant and what isn’t. So yes, start at the very beginning.”
An hour later, we broke for a late lunch. Dad and I grabbed burgers at The Habit while Connelly went home to eat with his wife and infant daughter. We met back at the office at one-thirty fully sated. At least I was.
“So what’s gonna happened?” I asked. “Like can I be arrested?”
“Moving a body is illegal,” Connelly said. “So, yes, you can be arrested.”
“Even if I didn’t physically move the body?”
“Just like driving the getaway car in a robbery. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t actually go inside the store and pull the trigger. In the eyes of the law, you’re still responsible. You’re an accessory.”
“But Gardner didn’t arrest me.”
“Which doesn’t mean he won’t once he’s collected more evidence and talked with the district attorney.”
“And in the meantime? What do I do?”
“Go back to school and keep your nose clean.”
“And what about Roxy?”
“What about her?”
“What’ll happen with her?”
“Apart from being called as a witness if this ever goes to trial…probably nothing. From what you’ve told me, she didn’t do anything but stick by your side. She didn’t restrain you and we could say she even assisted in your escape.”
I nodded. “So for now…I don’t do anything? Just go about my normal, everyday life?”
“Don’t go anywhere near Scientology or talk with anyone even remotely associated with them. Stay as far away as possible. Understand?”
“What if they call me? Or come over to my house. Like those two guys last night.”
Connelly grabbed a few cards from the holder on his desk and handed them to me. “Give them one of my cards and have them call me.”
“And if they don’t? Like if they won’t go away? Or they try to convince me to come with them? Or something like that?”
“Call the police. From this point forward, you are to have nothing to do with Scientology. Understand?”
“Got it,” I said.
“I’ll keep an eye out, too,” Dad said.
“And in the meantime, what will you be doing?” I asked Connelly.
“Conferring with the police. Reading all their reports—including those of the coroner. Talking with the DA. Lining up our ducks, so to speak.”
“What if they say moving Joan was all my idea? Like I was the one who did everything?”
Connelly leaned forward. “Did you?”
“No! I’m just saying that I wouldn’t put it past them to blame everything on me.”
“They do have a reputation.”
Dad nodded.
“They’re famous for attacking anyone they see as a threat,” Connelly said. “Attack, attack, attack. That’s their policy.”
Chapter 52
Dev and I were sitting on the beach at the Mesa Lane. The sun was up and the tide was out. Three girls lay on their stomachs fifteen yards to the north. They’d untied the strings to their bikini tops so as not get stuck with unsightly tan lines. They pretended they didn’t see us. We pretended we didn’t see them.
“So…what you gonna do?” Dev asked.
“For now, just wait and see what Connelly comes up with,” I answered.
“Your lawyer, right?”
I nodded.
“What if the church comes after you?” he asked.
“Like try to kidnap me?”
“Or lie and say you were the one who moved Joan and they had nothing to do with it?”
“Then it’ll be my word against theirs.”
“They could say they weren’t there and have no idea what you’re talking about. And since you admitted to that detective, Gardner, that you were there when she died, they could theoretically pin it all on you. Is there any way to prove those Sea Org guys were there?”
I shook my head. “Not unless they left behind some sort of incriminating evidence. Or if Brenda or Doug tell the truth.”
“You think they will?”
“I don’t know. On one hand, they’re Scientologists and believe in being ethical and telling the truth. On the other hand, they believe in defending their church at all costs.”
“Even if it means lying?” Dev asked.
“Wouldn’t bet against it,” I said.
“So it might come down to your word against theirs.”
A seal poked its head out of the water just beyond the line of kelp, looked around, and dove back down.
“Dude…I can’t believe you got yourself mixed up in all this,” Dev said. “Like Scientology. Really? Dude, what were you thinking?”
“I just don’t know what I want to do with my life?” I said.
“And you thought Scientology had the answer?”
“I thought they might be able to help me find it.”
“I take it you didn’t have any success.”
“Correct. Still don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do with myself.”
“You could always get into accounting like me.”
“Or just slit my wrists right here and get it over with.”
The three girls all turned over on their backs, careful not to dislodge their bikini tops. Or overtly glance our way. Sun glinted off their bellybutton rings. I imagined Roxy lying next to them in her black and white Sea Org uniform. And then without the uniform, wearing the red bikini she’d worn in the sauna. She would have burned up in minutes with her pale skin.
“Maybe you ought to decide on something and just go for it,” Dev said. “Like just decide on a profession. If ten years down the road you decide to do something else…then you do something else. People change professions all the time.”
“Damn, when did you get all philosophical?”
“When I decided to go into accounting. Before that, I was kinda like you are now. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to make a decision and go with it. Because if I didn’t…” He shook his head. “I’d be floundering around like a fuckin fish on the beach. I figured it was better to be doing something that I only liked seventy percent of the time than not doing anything… which is like the equivalent of zero percent.”
“Not eloquently stated but I get what you’re saying,” I said.
“So just choose something, dude, and go for it.”
I glazed out across the ocean. “I’ve always considered teaching. Like high school.”
“Then go for it, dude,” Dev repeated.
I nodded. And changed the subject. “I wonder what Roxy is up to.”
“Doing what Sea Org girls do, I imagine.”
“She talked about something called the RPF—Rehabilitation Project Force—which is where they put people who’ve been bad. Apparently, they have to run everywhere they go; they aren’t allowed to walk. They work ungodly hours doing shit jobs, and for food, get whatever’s left over. She said that some people spend years in the RPF.”
“Wow. That’s harsh.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You sorry she left? Or surprised?”
“A little of both,” I answered. “I did want her to stay. And was kinda surprised when she left.”
“You like her, don’t you?”
I nodded. Slowly. And then my phone buzzed.
Chapter 53
I glanced at my cell. The numeral “1” had appended itself to the little yellow envelope icon at the bottom of the screen. I tapped it. The message was from “seatosea2000.” I’d never heard of him or her but tapped, “read,” anyway.
Meanwhile, out in the water, the three girls were up to their waists with their hands raised above the small waves—probably standing on their tiptoes. One of them glanced back over her shoulder. No doubt hoping Dev and I would join them. Maybe lift them on our shoulders.
“Holy shit,” I said, returning to my cell.
“What?” Dev asked.
“Just got a text from Roxy.”
“No way.”
“Seriously, it’s like she was listening to what we were just talking about.”
“Come on man; what’d she say?”
I read the message out loud. “Assigned to RPF at Pac Base. Life: over. Roxy.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“What is Pac Base?”
“Short for Pacific Base. It’s this Scientology complex of buildings in LA. A lot of senior management work there and where the public go to get a lot of advanced auditing. I’m surprised she has access to a cell phone.”
“Huh?”
“They’re not allowed to have cells. It’s like ‘out-security,’ or something like that.”
“More likely, they don’t want people interacting with the outside world. Like learning what it’s really like outside the Sea Org,” Dev said.
“And what the public really thinks of Scientology.”
“Which isn’t much, I can tell you. After you got involved, I went online to learn about the…‘organization’. Oh my god… Dude, the stories… Scientology really fucks over people.”
“Which means that Roxy…”
“Is getting fucked over,” he completed.
I turned to shade my cell. “What’s happening?” I texted.
“Cleaning bathrooms with toothbrushes,” she replied ten seconds later.
“Your phone?” I asked.
“Friend’s.”
“Need saving?”
“Yes.”
“When and where?”
“I’m in…” and that was it. No more replies. No more texts. Nothing.
I imagined the worst. As if someone had snatched the phone out of her hands and assigned her to something lower than the RPF—if there was such a thing. I handed my phone to Dev.
He read the short conversation. “Holy shit,” he said.
“I gotta go get her,” I said.
“You think that’s what she wants?”
“You read what she wrote!”
“I’m just saying… Do you think she literally meant she needs saving? Or just kind of like…spiritually?”
“Dude, what difference does it make?”
Dev shrugged.
“I gotta go get her,” I repeated.
“But you don’t even know where she is.”
“She’s at Pac Base.”
“How big is this place and how many staff do they have?”
“The complex takes up a couple of square blocks—or more. I don’t know how many staff, only that there are a lot. Maybe a thousand. Maybe more.”
“So you’d just go down there and start asking around? Like, ‘Excuse me sir, have you seen Roxy?’”
“No way would I ask a staff member.” I’d seen how Sea Org members reacted to guys like me, who they considered outsiders. Not part of the club. Asking one of them to help me would like asking a wolf to help herd a flock of sheep.
“Then what’s the plan?” Dev asked.
“I don’t know. Go down and hang out until she appears.”
“Like just park outside this complex until she happens to walk by?”
“Unless you got a better idea.”
“But what if she doesn’t come by? Like what if she’s working indoors the whole time? She said she was cleaning bathrooms, right? Which if they’re anything like the ones we got here in Santa Barbara, are indoor facilities.”
“Then I’ll look around inside until I spot her.”
“You’re allowed to walk around inside these buildings?”
“Some of them. Maybe. I’ve actually only been inside one of em. And I was only in a small part of it. But dude, she’d have to turn up eventually. It’s not like they have her locked away in some dungeon. And she has to go someplace to sleep at night.”
“I got an idea,” Dev said. “Remember I said I’d been visiting these anti-Scientology websites?”
“Yeah.”
“So what if we reached out to people who go to these sites and asked for a lay of the land so to speak. Like a lot of the people that participate in these blogs are ex-Sea Org members that were in the RPF. A lot of em must have worked at this Pac Base.”
“You think they’d help?”
Dev smiled. “Dude, you gotta read some of the shit that gets written at these sites. They hate Scientology with a fuckin passion and would do anything to help someone escape.”
The three girls finally dived in the water and got wet. The only thing better than a dry bikini was a wet one. I felt slightly disloyal staring at them.
I couldn’t wait to get home and check out some of these sites.
Chapter 54
Dev and I fueled up at Taco Bell before going home and firing up my laptop. Ten seconds and a half dozen clicks later, a shit-storm of anti-Scientology vitriol appeared on the screen. If hell had no fury like a woman scorned, ex-Scientologists were a close second.
“Holy shit,” I said. “Rage-central.”
“I told you,” Dev said leaning over my shoulder. “Ever since you got involved, I’ve been checking out these sites. Damn… You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I’ve read.”
“So what do you think I should do? Reply to one of these essays? Ask for help?”
“Maybe. But you gotta be careful. According to what I’ve read, Scientology has spies that visit these sites. So you want to make sure you don’t use and real names or where Roxy was being held. Like you’d want to say you needed help freeing this girl on the RPF. But nothing more specific than that.”
Most of the sites led with daily articles ripping Scientology. Dozens to hundreds of replies followed each entry.
“Which site would be best?” I asked.
Dev named two we’d already visited. “They’re the biggest. I’d stick with them.”
I went to The Real Story of Scientology, by an ex-Sea Org executive by the name of Marvin Brander. The site had been up for three years and seemed to have a large following. That day’s essay had to do with the high cost of Scientology. A hundred and twenty-four people had responded, so far. My comment made it one twenty-five.
I apologized for being off-topic before asking if anyone had information that might help me rescue a girl being held hostage in the RPF. I made sure to avoid mentioning names or places for fear Scientology was monitoring the site. I repeated the operation at the second site, The Underground, run by a journalist back in New York.
I turned in my seat. “Now what?” I asked Dev.
“We just wait. A monitor reads the comments first before posting em.”
“How long does that take?”
“I just started visiting these sites myself but I’d say anywhere from minutes to hours. Like if the monitor breaks for dinner and a movie, they might not update the site until the next day.”
Every fifteen minutes, I took a break from playing a video game with Dev and refreshed the two sites where I’d left messages. Dad texted me later, asking if I’d be around for dinner. I told him I had other plans.
Just after the fourth refresh, Detective Gardner showed up.
Nitpick – “Google it. The Hole exists. Ted.” – This says Rick has done some internet research on scn but decided to give it a try anyhow on the recommendation of his ex girlfriend and he thought some things on the Grade Chart were interesting. What did he have to lose?!
Maybe it could be mentioned at the beginning of the novel (or maybe it was mentioned?) that Rick had read some negative things about scn but his ex girlfriend told him it wasn’t true and she thought scn was a worthwhile subject.
My “ruin” for getting into scn was that I hadn’t read a book in over a year and was feeling intellectually stagnant. Scientology gave me a lot to think about.
He turned his attention back to me. “We’re can’t physically drag you back…but you really should return with us. It’ll be better for all concerned. I promise.”
Should be:
He turned his attention back to me. “We can’t physically drag you back…but you really should return with us. It’ll be better for all concerned. I promise.”
Since nobody else caught it … keep on going TC!
– Hawk
Somehow, I expected them to use some cliché he would have been acquainted with at his level of indoctrination to persuade him to return with them, not empty threats of physical duress. Hey! he didn’t call the police to report two intruders who are threatening him and his guests? (Roxy & Dev)
I just wanted to say that I look forward to reading these installments every Sunday. I will buy the book when it’s finally released!
Marvin Brander! That is too cool!
Way to go, Terra! Keep going!
Sadly, I’m not certain what I’ve read has an audience other than ASC denizons, we who are already reading it in the unabridged and unsanitized version.
“Happy Mothers Day” Mary Kahn!! Keep fighting, and remember we are all family here.
Terra, It is a great story, really theta.
Many will say, WTF? can be theta about it?
It is theta in that there is still a reasonable chance that good will prevail. When I was on the Freewinds., the hope I had of eventual freedom was the hope of death. Now, I did not go around daily wishing for death, but if any of you had asked me what I looked forward to in the coming years my immediate thought would have been death. I clearly was not going to make it up the Bridge in this life and with a billion year contract I was never going to retire. As families vere verboten, i was never going to have. A family. I was never going to have any money making a max of $50.00 a week. All I could possibly aspire to was to get my job done. This I believe I have done and I have not yet heard anything from the Church saying otherwise.
I will keep Tr3ing the matter until I hear something acknowledging my work for the past few years.
I almost forgot. Happy Mother’s Day to all you who are mothers.
i actually left the SO and the Freewinds on Mother’s Day 2002. I had not been told that I was out of the SO or that I had HIV, only that I was going “For further testing”. As I went down the gangway I looked back at my home for the last 16 years and knew I would never see it again in this life.
I did not call my mother and tell her I was coming back to the States.
The plane from Miami to LA had a “structual problem with the airframe” according to it’s Captain.
As tje Captain had earlier said that the vibration was a problem with the A/C., I offered to help repair it. Instead the Captain turned the plane around (very gingerly ., I thought that we had not turned at all. It seemed that every fire truck, ambulance and hearse in Southern Florida was out there waiting for us. Another passenger asked me “Why don’t we just land here in Texas instead of going back to Miami? My 1st thought was that since the plane took off from Miami, the next of kin were likely there and it would be cheaper for the airline to crash there and not have to transport people to Texas to identify the remains.
That’s a funny tale, Bill!
Yeah, Terra, I laughed my ass off. Except it is no tale, it is the unvarnished truth, every word. But I still like your story. Those people have a chance, I hope that they make it.
I was making an addition to my comment to Terra and I was running out of time. As I clicked the last character of the last sentence the whole thing disappeared. I had run out of time. Story of my life.
Bill – You have a good writing style and I hope you get around to writing down and compiling your experiences. I don’t think it would take much editing since you could just have chapters relating your experiences.
My best friend was stationed in Saigon during the Vietnam War and was doing military intelligence work reading aerial maps. He had a lot of stories about the administrative side of the conflict and some of them were funny. One time he and a buddy went out and got shit faced and got in a brawl with the locals. The Military Police showed up and tossed them in their jeep, but an explosion went off somewhere and the MPs kicked them to the curb to go investigate and they escaped the brig and staggered back to their quarters.
Thank you Richard.
If I live long enough , I think that I will do just that. If those fuckers in the Church are more competent tjan they appear, I will be dead by the time you read this. If that happens, I apologize for leaving you to do my work. Otherwise, I think that we will kick ass.
You know, I did a similar thing in my youth which I am not proud of. I was cruising down E 14th St in San Leandro Ca in 1977 and this stretch of road had thousands of cars at 1 AM. Me and an acquaintance of mine were in this wall to wall traffic when I saw a police call pulling someone over.
I clicked my CB to PA and said “Oink , oink oink, busted by the Pigs. As there was tall buildings a mile away I heard clearly the word “Pigs” echo 4 times. I thpught no way are they going to do anything. WRONG!
They tossed the license of the person back to them, turned on their lights and siren. The cars scattered and soon they were right on my ass. I pulled over and was respecrful to the officer. The officer did not give me a ticket but as he walked back to his car the fool with me noticed that it was a K9 unit. He said loudly, Hey officer, what are the dogs for, man.
I said (knowing that he had a joint in his back pocket) Shut up. You are about to find out what the dogs are for.”
The officer looked back in disgust got in his car and drove away
What I was getting at by relating that episode from my friend is that when he spoke about it with the details filled in it was a very interesting and funny story. Bill has posted many short blog comments which could be fleshed out into what I think would be an interesting and enjoyable read.
Thank you.
Bill – (from above) “. . . with a billion year contract I was never going to retire.” That’s true but you would accumulate a lot of vacation time.
Vacation time? The last “vacation” I got was 10 days after not seeing any member of my family for.7 years. To get that nearly cost me my life.
The only real vacation you get is the 21 years after you die before you are to return to dury.
That was 7 years not .7 years.
Taking a 21 year vacation between lives is downstat. If somebody skipped that and got right back to it they might be able to retire a million years earlier. A lot of people skip vacation time so they can retire earlier.
You are right Richard. 21 years is a long and unnecessary vacation. I only took 20 years this life to join the SO. Ahthough it appears (through auditing) that I was in Scn last lifetime., it was not the SO as the SO did not yet exist.
I start reading today and (who knew?) right off the bat silly ignorant Roxy goes off with those lying scum from her SO life. As expected, within hours she is in the RPF and cleaning bathrooms with a toothbrush, a highly ethical task sure to save any planet. Apparently she does not like that one bit, and finds a way to call Rick. Apparently it’s time for Rick, the knight in shining armor, to ride in and save the fair maiden from the dungeons of Scientology, going against his legal advice to stay completely away from the them.
Sea Org is really, really hard on people. Hopefully, good fiction like this is another tool to get people out of the cult. It seems those most deeply addicted to Hubbard’s words are the poor kids who grew up in the SO. I know many, many people who visit this blog have children who grew up in the SO, who are now young adults who still drink deeply of the Scientology kool-aid. I feel for those parents, but mostly I feel for the SO-trained people who have so little of life’s beauty available to them because the green-and-white writing leaves them little choice in their own life decisions.
Maybe, hopefully, by the end of the story Roxy will come to know she is a person, not a labor unit of the SO.
That Roxy…. SUCH a virgin in the real world, Doeasn’t know anything but the garbage she’s been fed. In her favor is Rick, who knows a bit, has good contacts and instincts, and seems willing to be her personal Aftermath Foundation. Hope the ending isn’t some juvenile wet dream, but that they do get together to ease her out of that criminal organization representing itself as a church
BTW: Any Aftermath Foundation “wins”, yet? Heck, just establishing that counter-organization is a huge win for humanity, or maybe I should say OF humanity. Scientology’s doing its best to drill the humanity OUT of those still in. Showing any of the pro-survival (of the species) like helping others and showing empathy or love is verboten in Tubby’s warped world. The only way to survive in that mash-up is to claw your way to the top, killing all who show any signs of weakness or could challenge your position. Dwarfenführer learned those lessons well; Scientology is for those who are able to completely submerge their needs to exactly match what the senior execs say is needed NOW, if not sooner. Doesn’t matter if the orders make no sense in context.
Such a shame. So sad I fell for it, too. Tubby WAS an evil genious at sucking us all in.
I guess that I was some dumb motherfucker. i never learned the lesson of “Get them before they get you.”
And as for “Tubby” (LRH), without even a million to one chance of making it I would have probably just self-termimated anyway. So. I cannot really blame him just yet.
I showed the signs of weakness that you talked about. Maybe that is why I am …. Dead men tell no Tales
I thought Roxy would be taken back to the compound at Hemit but she has been transferred and is now in LA. That might be more clearly expressed.
” . . . before I walked through the front door of the org . . . ” Was Santa Barbara an org or a mission. Saying “. . . before I walked through the front door of the “organization” . . .” would generalize it. The differentiation between Pac, Int, Org, Mission, Flag and so on is confusing. As an Ex I can figure it out but for the casual reader it might be simplified for this novel as the Santa Barbara mission, the LA Headquarters, and the Hemit compound.
As mentioned in a previous installment the reference to “Kool Aid” might be changed to “. . . your so drunk on this Scientology stuff . . ” and “Scientology drunk smirk”.
I was living in LA when I blew scn in 1982 and there wasn’t much media exposure of scn back then. There were some books and articles about scn but I hadn’t come across them and a Kool Aid metaphor or any other metaphor wasn’t part of my thinking. Rather, after maybe a few months, I looked back on the experience and realized that scn had presented the idea the “We know everything about everything. We’re right and everybody else is wrong.” I had gone into agreement with that to the extent that I had believed that “eventually” everyone should become a Scientologist.
As an aside, soon after I blew scn I hooked up with a gal who had been in a small cult called The Center For Feeling Therapy which was an offshoot of Primal (Scream) Therapy. She still hung onto some things she’d learned from The Center as did I from Scientology. We’d occasionally have minor debates about what was right or wrong or true or false in the subjects, but we both agreed we had been cultists and were happy to be out!
Richard, I too, left in ’82. My auditor, Dave Pettit, kept trying to get me to attest to Clear. Problem was, nothing in me had changed! Nothing! So I walked out never to return.
Richard: Santa Barbara is supposed to be an org in this story. I may have called it a mission earlier. I’ll have to check.
I first remember hearing Kool Aid used with reference to cults years ago during the infamous Jim Jones mass suicide. I may be wrong, but since then, I thought the famous kids drink had become associated with that episode.
‘Old Timers disease, Terra? Been there, done that.
Terra – I think you’re right about drinking the Kool Aid being used in referring to cults and religious fundamentalists for quite a while but it seems a bit advanced for Rick since he’s only hated scn for a few days. No big deal. I’ve already made a couple of “incorrect corrections” so ignore me and carry on!
Mike,
Sending you and your family a wish for a wonderful Mother’s Day.
Thanks for all your tireless efforts. What you’re doing is nothing short of incredible.
What if it’s a trap and they made Roxy send that message to get him to PAC Base? Has Terra considered that when he releases the book he will (or maybe not) have to attach a name to it?
I thought the same thing. Or, perhaps, it didn’t come from Roxy at all. Those sneaky assholes are…well, sneaky.
Posting this again because it looks like my reply has disappeared into the abyss…lol.
I was thinking the same thing: maybe they made her send those texts. Or perhaps, it wasn’t she who sent them at all.
Those sneaky assholes are pretty sneaky.
Oops…
Now that I submitted a new reply, I see my original reply above. Weird.
A trap to get Rick down to Pac Base? Hmm…
he he he Yes, that’s what I think. I don’t know that it would be that easy for Roxy to text especially since she would be so watched. I hope he takes Dev with him this time.
I think this installment could be offered as a single chapter. The time line is easy to follow and a shift in scene might be indicated by
* * *
or some such and the same thing could be said of some of the earlier installments. This would save paper in a paperback.
The installments and completion of the story will probably be complete before the mid term elections. In the meantime the author will have reviewed the comments and suggestions and have a second or final draft prepared and have started a second novel. (I’m being facetious)
Many story possibilities exist in cult pulp fiction. Stephen King might have written a couple of cult oriented horror stories. I recall a couple of stories with a group of like minded zealots entrapping unsuspecting visitors. It didn’t end well for the visitors – haha
It’s an interesting process to me that as snippets of the novel are released each week Terra is taking into consideration the comments and suggestions. He also has to be patient and wait until the whole novel is revealed so he can make final edits. Patience!
Ah, I’ve missed a few Sundays but can follow just fine. Spending a too quiet Mother’s day. I never minded 6 of us all watching videos on our king-sized waterbed at 5165 Fountain, 90028. We had room #420. It was called the Anthony Building. Heber and Karen and Alexander lived across the hall and next to them was James and Enid Byrne. Think I’ll get a street view just for fun. Happy Mother’s day Mom’s ?????
Happy Mother’s Day, Cece! Huge hugs!
All of the installments are compiled in the “Filed Under: Time Place Form and Event Novel” tag above “Comments”
Every week I can’t wait to come here and read this. It’s really good! I like the twist with Roxy’s going back and wanting to escape, though my heart sank when she did.
I think I’ve cracked the Marvin Brander code!!!!
I like the references
The Real Story of Scientology, by an ex-Sea Org executive by the name of Marvin Brander.
and
The Underground, run by a journalist back in New York
🙂
/r/ reference to the big list!
http://whyweprotest.wikia.com/wiki/Former_Church_of_Scientology_members_who_have_spoken_out
(Hey. Can’t help myself! 😛 )
Maybe a dumb question. Is this a true story?
Questions are never dumb, and no.
No. Terra said this is a fictional story based upon his experiences and time in $cientology.
That’s right., this is a work of fiction. But at least in the fiction, they have a chance. In the real world of the Sea Org, their only hope is that people like you and I will do something effective to save them.
Otherwise, they may as well be dead, like me.
You readers may wonder how the fuck Scientology generated a person as fucked up as myself. In all fairness to them, I was already pretty fucked up. Before the Comm Course, I would go into a McDonalds and sit facing the wall so as I would not have to see anyone coming in. I consider myself far less fucked-up now, partly because I would have been dead several times over without them. So what is my beef if I was virtually dead with them? Per their founder, LRon Hubbard, who I have met, (not in this life, but then which lifetime is this anyway) a cure which saves a hundred and kills one is an acceptable cure. i do not deny them the right to kill a few people to Clear the planet (bummer that it has to be me, but whatever).
It is just that my demise made imminent by all their hard work did not help Clear the Planet. It did not even get their stat of. NCUT (New corpses to undertakers) up.
They fucked my then wife around and for 6 months I did not know If I would ever see her again on this life.
To me, this is a recurring point with the “Church”. it is as illogical as Hitler. With all of the millions of Jews he had killed ., had he kept them alive he could have won the war.
The Sea Org opposed all who are perceived to be enemies. Ok, fine, but at least be perceptive enough to tell the difference. I was still on board with them, even after all of the above.
THE ONLY ENEMIES THE CHURCH HAS IS THOSE THAT IT MAKES THEMSELVES.
With all of you good people., Mike and all Scn could have done a hell of a lot more. Now I can only hope it does a hell ofa lot less
If I found two goons in my house, I would have called the cops immediately. Otherwise a great read!
Miss Q – I also first thought “call the cops” but on further reflection Rick hasn’t yet talked to an attorney, has Detective Gardner looking over his shoulder and the goons are there mainly for Roxy. Also, having the police show up with sirens or flashing lights might not be optimal – haha.
It’s a recurring theme in the story that Rick’s seemingly dumb decisions have plausibility and make some sense which is good writing by the author.
The sounds of sirens would have been music to my ears many times when I was in the Sea Org.
Just like in all horror and slasher movies, the audience is thinking, “No! – Don’t go down into the cellar!!”
1 editing suggestion in Chapter 51: 4 paragraphs before the end of it: “No! I’m just saying that I wouldn’t put it past them to blame everything on me.”….not saying that. I wouldn’t put it past them…” or “…not saying that, but I wouldn’t put it….”
Bless you, TC: You’re doing a fantastic job!!!!! Sunday has become my favorite day because I’m able to read more chapters of your forthcoming book! xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
I’m liking it. It’s starting to open up to possible plot directions. I do hope by the end the narrator grows up a bit. Anyway, caught a minor typo. In the sentence “I crossed the room to the bedroom and peaked in the bedroom”, “peaked” should be “peeked”.
IRL Rick would have been arrested on the spot. OK for a story if the reader is unfamiliar with US law enforcement though
I think it’s too early to say Rick would have been arrested on the spot. Maybe the detective and his superiors want Rick to go undercover and work as a mole and go for the big fish as in mob investigations. The plot has several possibilities.
Naw Richard I worked in law enforcement. The LEO has no real option. The DA office gets to make high level decisions where a possible homicide occurred. Without an atty at this point he would be toast even if he cooperated as no one is negotiating for him. IF he went through an atty they would probably do a no jail deal if he wore a wire to get enough evidence on CoS execs to indict a few of them. Otherwise he gets nailed for any or all of the serious felonies he just copped to.
Unless the DA in question is Jackie whatever her name is then all will be forgotten
🙂
Wynski – I see your point. For all the authorities know at this point Rick might have locked Joan in the sauna and turned up the heat and roasted her.