Beyond Belief (13 page)

Aunt Shelly had really taken a liking to me, and I liked her, too. When we would talk during the meals or out by the pool during the festivities, she would always ask me how I was doing. She taught me about nutrition, something she was very much into, which helped me at my post as MLO. She was a no-nonsense type of person, but was also caring and loving and had a good sense of humor.

When I was working in the galley with Tammy, I got to watch the rehearsals of the Sea Org’s Honor Guard. The members dressed in full white uniforms, similar to those of the U.S. Navy. The uniforms included a hat, gloves, a lanyard, campaign bars, and rank. They marched in time to music coming from the sound system, twirled batons, and did choreographed steps. Some of them carried flags with the Sea Org or Scientology symbols on them. Others stood in two rows and crossed their swords, forming an archway for the senior executives to pass under. It was really cool to watch. Professional and inspiring, the performance never failed to excite me about becoming a member of the Sea Org.

The day following the Sea Org Day ceremony was a day off, filled with fun activities. The base had a full-sized clipper ship built into the ground. The ship, the
Star of California,
had a pool, palapas (tiki huts), changing rooms, and a smoothie bar. This pool was actually for my uncle Dave’s use, but on Sea Org Day, he opened it to everyone for swimming competitions and other activities.

It was a great time. Besides the races in the pool, there were soccer matches, basketball games, free swim in the lake, and a picnic with hamburgers and hot dogs. The base had plenty of fields and courts for all the sports, but Sea Org Day was the only time they were used.

In the evening, everyone would return to his berthing to get dressed up. Then we’d come back into the base for a long, delicious dinner. I would always sit with Dad at his table; if Mom was there, she’d join us. At my parents’ urging, I’d chat with Uncle Dave and Aunt Shelly at their table for twenty minutes or so while they asked me questions about my studies and told me jokes. I was happy that Aunt Shelly took such an interest in me. With my mother gone so much of the time, it felt reassuring to have an older female relative who gave me sincere attention.

C
HRISTMAS WAS ANOTHER TIME
I
LOOKED FORWARD TO, BECAUSE
we would get two or three days off and my mother would be able to leave Clearwater to be with us. My family did not celebrate Christmas as a religious holiday. It would start with the kids going to the Int Base for the Sea Org’s traditional Beer & Cheese Party. The kids, of course, weren’t allowed to drink beer. In fact, the adults in Sea Org never drank, except at this party. Beer was alcohol, which affected the mind, which would then have to be dealt with in the future by using Scientology. In addition, you could not attend Scientology studies for at least twenty-four hours after alcohol consumption, so it was definitely not condoned.

Even at the Beer & Cheese Party, most of the adults would drink non-alcoholic beer. Uncle Dave liked to point out the people who were drinking real alcohol and getting drunk. One time, he signaled to someone who looked a little red in the face and brought him to the table, where Mom, Dad, and a few other execs were sitting.

“Russ!” he said in his normal booming voice.

“Yes, sir?” I could see the color leaving Russ’s face.

“What are you drinking?”

“Irish Cream, sir,” Russ answered, looking a little sheepish.

“Ah-hah,” my uncle replied, before instructing Russ to keep walking, as though he had no idea why Russ had stopped at our table in the first place. “Well, I really missed his ‘withhold’!” Uncle Dave then exclaimed, and the adults agreed in unison. I could tell it was a demonstration of power.

“How many people do you think are actually completely shit-faced right now?” Uncle Dave asked. Then he remembered that I was at the table. “Oh, sorry, Jenny,” he said, turning to me with a huge smile. He usually called me “Jenny” instead of Jenna; it was more familiar and what my brother called me as well. “I shouldn’t say that bad word,” he said apologetically.

“Do I owe you a quarter for cussing?” he asked. I told him he didn’t. We swore like sailors at the Ranch. Most Sea Org members did. But I wondered about this bad word.

“What is shit-faced?” I asked, and everybody laughed, except for Aunt Shelly, who took me aside and explained that alcohol was bad and that sometimes it could make you drunk.

The day after the Beer & Cheese Party, the crew at the Int Base would have the day off. Almost everybody used the day to take their family to Big Bear ski resort, which was in California, about an hour and a half from the base. Most people took buses hired for the trip, but we would drive up separately because my dad had a car. Not many crew members had cars. My dad had his BMW and Uncle Dave had a Mazda RX7. I had no idea why people were really impressed with that, but they were. My dad loved his red BMW to the point that, at times, I thought he loved it more than he did me. Once, I even asked him if that was true, and he seemed quite offended by the question and assured me that was not the case.

At Big Bear, our family would often spend the night at a place much nicer than where the rest of the staff was staying. Once when I was nine, we stayed at a huge house in Arrowhead with a ton of rooms, a loft, and an indoor Jacuzzi. The kids got to sleep in the loft. Lots of my Scientology relatives on my dad’s side were there: Uncle Dave and Aunt Shelly; my dad’s father, Grandpa Ron, and his wife, Becky; my parents; and a man I called Uncle Bill. He was not really my uncle, but he and my dad had been good friends since I had been little, so I called him Uncle Bill. The house belonged to a Scientologist named Paul Haggis, who was a Hollywood screenwriter and director; Uncle Bill was a friend of his, so he had gotten permission for all of us to use his house.

Christmas was unlike just about any other time in the Church. We all sat by the fire to open our presents. I got slippers, jammies, and an album from my mom and dad. My grandmother in New Hampshire sent me a bead and loom kit. It was awesome, because I didn’t really have any toys at the Ranch besides the stuffed animals on my bed. Uncle Dave and Aunt Shelly got me a porcelain Tiffany’s box, blue with a white porcelain bow. I wasn’t sure of its function, but it was very pretty.

At the end of the second day at Big Bear, we returned to the base for a big Christmas dinner and show. We sang Christmas carols, did a play, or made other entertainment, having rehearsed our numbers at the Ranch for weeks before Christmas. Even though all of the older kids acted as though they were painfully embarrassed, I loved performing, and it made me adore Christmas all the more. After the show, the crew would have a dance party. Sometimes, Aunt Shelly and Uncle Dave would sit on the side to watch people.

Aunt Shelly would frequently talk to me, whether she was touting the benefits of carrot juice or telling me that popcorn and peanuts were the worst things you could eat. She would ask about my schooling and tell me that I needed to clear my misunderstood words, because that would help me finish my courses sooner. She was interested in my school progress. More than most people were.

Sometimes, during the Christmas dance, we’d go into Uncle Dave’s billiards room, which had a pool table and all sorts of other games. There was a leather couch, comfy chairs, and a phone that looked like a mallard duck, which I always wanted to play with. The bar in the room was usually teeming with stewards attending to all of the execs’ needs. The execs were always talking, but I had no idea about what. I was just happy to be with my parents and everyone else.

Everyone at the base treated me well. When I wandered through the dance hall, people I knew grabbed my arm to say hi and give me a hug. Everywhere I looked, people were friendly and inviting—so different from the Ranch. I couldn’t wait to finish the Ranch and work at Int, where everybody liked me. My friend Jamie had warned me that people were only kissing my butt because I was David Miscavige’s niece, but I was sure he was wrong. I knew them all and believed they were my friends.

When the dance ended, the family would go to our parents’ apartment. Mom and Dad would tell me that it was really important to write thank-you notes to the people who had sent me gifts, but I knew they were referring specifically to my uncle Dave. Judging from how everyone treated them, I knew Uncle Dave and Aunt Shelly were important. There were always stewards around, bringing them food and attending to their needs. The stewards attended to my parents’ needs, too. Even Mom and Dad always seemed to be more on their toes and agreeable to Uncle Dave.

The next day, all the kids would return to the Ranch and resume our normal schedule. Returning after Christmas was hard for lots of reasons, but especially because I knew that I likely wouldn’t see my parents together for a while.

One thing that got me through this tough time of year was the thought of my birthday, February 1. Unless it fell on a Sunday, my parents would not be there, but still I would celebrate it at the Ranch with my friends. It didn’t consist of anything more than a birthday cake, which we would have at dinner, and everyone would sing “Happy Birthday.” My dad and my mom, if she was in town, would usually get me another cake on Sunday morning. They’d get me presents, too.

I missed my mother most on days like my birthday. Just before my tenth birthday, I got a wonderful surprise. My mother called the Ranch with news that I would be spending it with her in Clearwater, Florida. Getting phone calls at the Ranch was a big deal, because there was only one phone that was open to use, and tracking people down to let them know they had a call could be difficult. Then, by the time you’d finally get on the phone, it was often hard to talk because another person—usually an adult—would want to use it. So, whether I was receiving or making a call, it meant that every time I talked to my mother, which was once a week at most, I had to keep it short, unless I spoke to her on Sunday mornings in my dad’s apartment.

Thankfully, this time Mom’s news was short and wonderful. I couldn’t wait. Clearwater was where my brothers had been born, and I would be able to meet my mom’s friends and see the things she always wrote to me about.

It almost seemed too good to be true. Getting to visit her was the best present I could have hoped for. I was going to get to see her not just for one or two days, but for days on end. I was brimming with excitement just at the thought of it.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

CLEARWATER

M
Y FLIGHT TO
F
LORIDA WOULD BE MY FIRST SOLO FORAY INTO
the Wog world. The night before, I packed my bag to be ready when Ana, Mom’s secretary, came to get me. I hugged Justin, B. J., and Kiri goodbye and climbed into Ana’s car for the trip to the airport. There Ana turned me over to the stewardess, who pinned some special wings onto my shirt and got me settled into my seat on the plane.

It was weird and a little overwhelming to be on an airplane by myself, especially surrounded by a bunch of Wogs. One lady asked me where I was going. I told her I was going to Flag.

“Do you mean Fort Lauderdale?” she asked

“No, Clearwater,” I told her.

“Oh, you must be going to Tampa!” she said next. I asked her if that was where Clearwater was, and she told me it was close. I spent the rest of the five-hour flight asking people seated near me if we were almost there, and surprisingly, despite my impatience, everybody was quite friendly.

When I stepped off the plane and out the gate at Tampa International Airport, I was instantly struck by how many strangers were standing around, some holding signs with names on them and others clearly waiting for family or friends. I didn’t see anybody waiting for me, and the prospect of trying to locate my mother in this crowd of unfamiliar faces was frightening. Luckily, I spotted her before I started to panic. She looked even prettier than I remembered, but as I walked right up to her, she kept looking over my head.

“Mom, it’s me!” I said, hugging her.

“Oh, my gosh!” she replied in surprise. “I didn’t recognize you!” She was beaming and laughing as she hugged me back. As I took in the aroma of the floral-scented shampoo she always used, a huge wave of relief swept over me: three thousand miles from the Ranch, I was home because I was with my mom.

My mom had brought a guy named Tom to the airport with her. She had always been nervous about driving, and since the airport was outside of her usual driving routine, Tom’s role for the day was to drive. Having grown up in the Sea Org, she was used to taking their buses and transportation. Generally, cars were unaffordable to Sea Org members, especially when the cost of insurance and gas was considered. The only people who had cars were those who had bought them before they joined the Sea Org or had some other income source, or the very few who were assigned Org cars as a privilege for their post or duties. My mom had an Org car, a gold Honda sedan.

Mom had mentioned Tom and his wife, Jenny, during our weekly phone calls. She had known them for a long time, and they both worked for her. She had described Tom as an incredibly nice guy, who was also a real kid at heart. I quickly learned what she meant by that assessment. During our tram ride to the main terminal, he wanted us to try standing without holding on to the poles as the tram sped between stops. From that alone, I decided that he was all right by me.

Outside the terminal, the Florida humidity hit me for the first time. I was mystified that anyone could get enough oxygen in the thick air. As soon as we got in the car, Tom turned on the A/C and saved us all.

Mom lived in Hacienda Gardens, a pink Spanish-style apartment complex on North Saturn Avenue, where she had her own apartment and a cat named Poncho. The palm-lined complex had eight buildings, a pool and a canteen. We drove up to the L block, where her apartment was located. Inside, I noticed a security person sitting across the way from her apartment door, as if he were her personal bodyguard. When he saw my mother, he waved.