Beyond Belief (19 page)

I
RETURNED TO THE
R
ANCH WITH NEW CONFIDENCE.
I
T WAS
hard to say whether it was because I’d finally finished the Key to Life and LOC courses successfully, because of all the excitement about the Sea Org that I’d experienced at Flag, or simply because I was getting older, but the end result was an optimism I’d never felt before.

Part of my enthusiasm came from the fact that, at the end of the LOC course, I’d been tasked with finding my purpose, or my “hat in life,” as Scientologists say. I’d begun talking with Mom about this, and asking her lots of questions about the different Sea Org roles she’d had. From those discussions, I’d decided that I wanted to be in the Commodore’s Messenger Office, the CMO, which offered a new clarity and focus to everything. Although I still had to graduate from the Ranch before I could join the CMO, for the first time I had a plan for what I wanted to do with my life; now all I had to do was follow the rules.

In truth, following the rules felt a lot easier now—even deck work, which I hadn’t done in ages because I’d been at Flag, didn’t seem as bad. I was nearly twice the age I had been when I’d first arrived at the Ranch, and I was much more able to do physical work. I even started receiving praise for being a hard worker, something I wasn’t used to. My old post as medical liaison had been taken by someone else in my absence, so my new post put me in charge of the Harvest, making sure certain fields were properly harvested, but soon I was promoted to the head of Division 2, an executive position. In this role, my duty was to oversee the Children’s group.

One of the changes that had been made since I’d arrived was that there was no longer a pre-Cadet category, only Cadets and Children. Among my responsibilities, I had to make sure the children under my care made it to morning muster on time, had good hygiene, were ethical, and did their deck work. Some of them were well behaved; some of them weren’t. I wanted to build good relationships with all of them; I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be their age, living at the Ranch. I nurtured them as best I could. If they came to me and told me they didn’t like the post they were assigned, I would try to help them find a post that suited them better. Their posts were simple, things like supplying the dorms with toilet paper, picking up trash, or gathering vegetables, but I tried to work it so that everybody was happy. I took my post seriously and was even recognized as Cadet of the Week.

My academic schooling wasn’t going as well, though. I was almost two years behind because of the time I had spent at Flag receiving no academic education. One of the results of my experiences at Flag was that, now, I only wanted to do Scientology studies, since I knew that to be a Sea Org member, those were what really mattered. When I argued with my course supervisor that academics were not that important, she escorted me to a small storage room where the books were kept. She was only eighteen or nineteen, although she was much bigger than I. I started fighting to get out, but she punched me in the face pretty hard. I only got a small bruise, and I didn’t complain to anybody at the Ranch. However, when I did tell my mother, she just asked me what I had done to deserve it. I wondered if she would speak to someone about it, but I was too afraid to ask, because she seemed to think it was my fault.

In the evenings, I was assigned to audit a girl named Trisha on her Clay Table. The two of us would go to the Int Base at night with the food run, and I would audit her after dinner. It wasn’t too difficult, because she was a friend and pretty easygoing. Being at Int most nights meant that there were more opportunities for me to run into Uncle Dave. One time after course, he came to pick me up on his motorcycle. We drove to his office, where I chatted with my aunt Shelly, and I played with his dogs. He took pictures of me at his desk answering the phone, pretending that I ran the world.

For all that he was the head of the Church and a powerful figure who inspired fear, moments like these showed a normal side to him. There were times when I could tell he just wanted to be a fun, normal uncle, goofing around with his niece, and in these moments, it was almost possible to see some sort of longing for a family, a humanity that was hidden much of the time. From how he treated me, it seemed apparent that he didn’t want me to be afraid of him in the way that most adults were. Sadly, these tender moments were going to become fewer and farther between. As the years went on, I saw that side of him less and less, and perhaps, given how he eventually seemed to change for the worse, it eventually ceased to exist entirely. But I never have forgotten Uncle Dave’s gentle, human side.

I stayed in touch via letter with all of my friends at Flag, especially Valeska, Tom, Jenny, even Don and Pilar. My dad would sometimes make comments about the letters I received from Don, saying things like, “Did you get your letter from your best friend Don?” He’d say it in a weird, jealous tone, but I would just ignore it. It wasn’t just those comments that struck me as odd. It seemed like my parents were arguing a lot, and that the arguments were getting worse.

Christmas was at Uncle Dave’s apartment at the Int Base that year. Mom and Dad got Dave an expensive pen, and Mom got a cute green Ann Taylor suit from him and Aunt Shelly. Aunt Shelly told me I should not get too enmeshed in fashion, as it was a bit of a trap. She also sat me down and talked to me about issues like skin and acne. I was having lots of breakouts and pimples and didn’t really know how to take care of my face. Aunt Shelly suggested some natural solutions to help me clear it up. Although it was embarrassing, I was thankful for her guidance.

Soon after Christmas, a policy change went into effect that kids could no longer stay at their parents’ berthing on Saturday nights. I was ambivalent about the change. I had always liked going to my parents’ berthing; staying at the apartment was so much nicer than staying at the Ranch. If this had occurred just a few years earlier, I would have been devastated. My parents were now living on the Int Base, which meant I didn’t really get to see my friends on Saturday night and Sunday mornings anyway, so I wasn’t really too bummed about the change. My dad was furious, though. It meant that family time was even more limited, and if parents wanted to see their children, they had to come to the Ranch, making it difficult for most of them because they had to take the bus. They also lost the Sunday morning time to go shopping with their kids for socks, underwear, toiletries, and such. I was still allowed to go to Int on Sunday mornings, but I didn’t go as often.

Justin and I didn’t see each other much anymore. He’d officially joined the Sea Org, so he was living and working at Int. When I did see him, he didn’t have much to say to me. Therefore, I was surprised when Taryn approached me one afternoon, anxious to share good news with me about my brother. Like Justin, she was also working at the Int Base as a Sea Org member.

“Aren’t you so excited that Justin decided to stay!” she exclaimed, waiting for me to agree. When I looked baffled, she could tell I had no idea what she was talking about. She brought me aside.

“Justin has wanted to leave the Sea Org for several years,” she told me quietly, “but your dad finally convinced him to stay.”

As I heard these words, I couldn’t make my mind up as to which was more shocking: that my brother had contemplated leaving, or that Taryn was telling me about it. In the Sea Org, you were forbidden to talk about leaving or even hearing that someone else was considering leaving. If you did, it was considered a Suppressive Act, so just by her telling me, she was taking a huge risk. Aside from telling someone that you were thinking of leaving, other High Crimes that might be considered Suppressive Acts were things like talking negatively about Scientology, practicing Scientology outside the umbrella organization, asking for your money back, taking legal action against Scientology, or speaking or writing negatively about Scientology to members of the media. Suppressive Acts could cause you to be declared a Suppressive Person, an SP. If this happened, you were considered evil, and people who were still Scientologists had to disconnect from you in every way, or they would be considered SPs, too.

As I turned over Taryn’s words, things started to make more sense. I knew that Justin had been unhappy. He always seemed to be in trouble for one thing or another—even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong—so the idea that he’d contemplated leaving wasn’t a total shock. However, there was a big difference between contemplating it and almost doing it. Until now, I hadn’t realized just how close I’d come to losing a family member. I wouldn’t have been able to have any kind of relationship with him. It scared me that I had come so close to losing someone I loved.

In the end, I felt relieved that it hadn’t happened, but I also hadn’t known enough to worry about it. Everyone seemed to know about his discontent except me. It was the first time I’d heard of someone this close to me doubting their commitment to the Sea Org. It wouldn’t be the last.

O
N
M
AY 9, 1996, THE DAY WE WOULD CELEBRATE
D
IANETICS
Day, Uncle Dave was going to unveil the next great steps in the future of Scientology. Scientology, he said, was undergoing a renaissance of sorts, and he had decided that there were imperfections in the way people were being audited. As a result, he wanted to improve the training program for auditors with new, more sophisticated E-Meters and perfected auditing drills, thus enabling Scientologists to ascend the Bridge to Total Freedom more thoroughly and efficiently. These improvements were going to be called the Golden Age of Technology, and from now on, they would help train Scientologists to be perfect auditors.

One of the changes brought on by this Golden Age of Technology was that new E-Meters were going to be created for training auditors. In the past, the checksheets that had been used for training auditors asked the coach to squeeze the cans to simulate E-Meter readings for the student. Now, instead of having a coach squeeze the cans, there was an actual machine on which one could push buttons and the desired reading would show up. With these better E-Meters and the heightened training that these new procedures produced, for the first time the process of teaching auditors would be flawless, so the auditors would be flawless as well.

I was very excited to be among a small group of cadets chosen to help on the Golden Age of Tech’s new E-Meter, called the “Mark Super VII Quantum,” manufactured by a division of Golden Era Productions. Golden Era Productions, or “Gold” as it was called, was responsible for the worldwide dissemination of Scientology, including all films, videos, television, Internet, and international event production. It also produced the tapes of LRH’s lectures and other materials, such as the E-Meter, training devices, and anything else needed to deliver Scientology to the public and staff. It was headquartered at the Int Base and staffed by several hundred Sea Org members, many of whom were parents to kids at the Ranch.

The first morning, we were driven by bus to the base after breakfast. The team was going to be assembling the new E-Meters in Building 36, Hubbard E-Meter Manufacturing, HEM. The place was buzzing, as we needed to get the machines ready for the May 9 launch date. Tons of staff were working there, even people from other posts who had come to help. We were divided into different sections along the line, so I was never in one section for more than a couple of weeks during the nearly year-long assignment during which time I got to work in every section.

I started off hot-stamping the plastic E-Meter casings with dial numbers and letters, and ended up in QC, Quality Control, where my job was to catch any glitches in the finished product. There were only three of us in QC, and we had to plug the finished E-Meters into all sorts of machines and do tests at different settings. HEM had a certain quota to make, and we were getting closer each day, as May 9 approached. Every time an E-Meter passed through the QC department, we would ring a bell and everyone would cheer.

Working in QC was sometimes exciting and sometimes nerve-racking. Throughout the day, senior executives would come through to inspect our work. There was a period of time when I was rejecting many E-Meters, so the execs brought in a technical guy to see if the problem was with my inspections or the meters. The tech expert concluded that the E-Meters were problem-free, so it must have been me. I stood my ground, insisting the meters were faulty based on the standard tests I had done. I even demonstrated the problem to several executives, and when it turned out that I was correct, I was praised for persevering.

The E-Meter assembly project went on for a few months. Mom was often the inspector. She would give me a hug and check on me, then go on her way. I was impressed by how everyone seemed to love and respect her while also fearing her. In the Sea Org, this was called “Ethics Presence,” which was essentially a combination of fear and respect, both of which were considered necessary to get compliance. Because we were already accustomed to working long hours, it really was no sweat, and working at a desk was much easier than deck work at the Ranch. When we worked at HEM, we stayed there all day, only going home in the evening in time for dinner, followed by studies. I was still in charge of the Children until they went to bed.

Once demand for the new E-Meters had subsided to a manageable level after the celebration of Dianetics Day, we resumed our normal schedules at the Ranch, but being a part of the E-Meters only added to the sense of progress that I’d built, a sense that came to a halt just as I was settling into things at the Ranch.

One day, out of the blue, it was announced that from this point forward all Cadets had to be higher on The Bridge before they could graduate from the Ranch and become Sea Org members. This was another part of the Church’s plan to make perfect auditors. The problem for me was that it could take years to become a Class V Auditor, which meant it could take years for me to graduate. The news came as a huge surprise and disappointment for all the kids, but I had a particularly hard time with it.