Life to Life: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (9 page)

I said, "Speaking of Reverend Annie..."

He responded in that same solemn manner.
"Oh, yes, I know, you think I'm being very silly carrying on this
way at such a time. But you see I've been expecting just such a
complication. It always works that way."

“
What do you mean? What
always works which way?”

He rearranged his legs, smoothed his
trousers, said, "Well, that is precisely what we need to be talking
about. And I just want to be sure that you will respect what I have
to tell you."

I assured him, "I am not
trying to amuse myself with meaningless games, Bruce. So let me
level with you first. It appears that I have been drawn into this
thing without my conscious knowledge or consent. I have been pushed
one way and pulled another to the point that I'm a bit confused as
to where the flow is even coming from."

Janulski nodded quiet agreement, whispered,
"Yes, that's the way it works."

"To the point that I am not sure that your
Reverend Annie is deserving of help, especially my help. I am
sensitive to unseen forces, however, and I am aware that events in
this world are sometimes no more than a shadow play of events in
another."

"Oh exactly, exactly."

"I won't guarantee you that I will remain
sympathetic to Annie's problems once I understand them. But I do
want to understand them. And I will want lo help if I feel the
cause is right."

"It is, believe me."

"On the other hand," I warned him, "if it
turns the other way, it's possible that I would want to help the
other side."

Janulski laughed prettily. "Believe me," he
said, "you wouldn't like it over there."

We decided to move to
Annie's office to continue the discussion. He offered refreshments
as we passed through the reception area. I wanted coffee; he opted
for tea and passed the request along to one of the
women.

As we entered Annie's
sanctum, Janulski lightly touched my shoulder and told me, "I have
a delightful surprise for you."

I really did not want to know but I asked
anyway, "What is that?"

He sat down behind the desk, put his hands
together, and told me, "We are really not supposed to divulge
information of this nature but it is just too perfect, so I've
received special permission to tell you about it."

I took a chair at the opposite side of the
desk and said, "Okay."

"Well, this is going to thrill you. One of
my guides was your father in a previous life."

I did not feel especially
thrilled. A bit creepy, maybe, but...I had no memory whatever of
any father at any time. I said drily to Janulski, "Well, then, you
must introduce us."

His eyes were twinkling as he replied, "I
just might be able to do that."

Well, hell, that more or less set the tone
for what was to follow. I give that to you, below, exactly as it
developed.

You tell me what it was all about.

Chapter Eleven: From the Mouths of
Angels

"If you are not a boy and not a girl, then
what are you?"

"There, you see? You are right at the crux.
There has never been any really original thought about this. In
this world there are precisely two sexes and we all must fit into
one or the other. May I tell you a secret? There are many more
worlds than this one, and there are more sexes than two."

"Maybe so, but we all now have to deal with
this world. So don't you have to declare yourself as one or the
other, male or female?"

"Declaring doesn't make it
so and certainly doesn't make it easier for those of us who are
neither. All that does is satisfy a classification system designed
for animals. Good heavens! Can't these twentieth-century minds
understand that the human race has left the animal kingdom
behind?"

"Not entirely behind. That body of yours,
pal, which you say is neither boy nor girl, was created by an
animalistic act that produces nothing but boys and girls."

"Oh, well, if you're
talking about bodies...! Bodies...! good lord!... that's like
saying there's nothing but fucking and sucking and no such thing as
making love! I can fuck or suck anybody—understand? Anybody, boy or
girl makes no difference, if you just want fucked or sucked. But if
you want love from me, pure romantic love, then you have to be one
of my own kind. You could fuck a cow, Mr. Ford. But could you fall
in love with one?"

"Not sure I could fuck one, Bruce. But I
guess I see what you mean. You couldn't fall in love with me?"

"Sony, no, I could not.
Oh, I can
love
you. I do love you. But not...no, sorry."

"Don't feel bad. Just wanted to be sure I'm
getting you. You are saying, like, you could not fall in love with
Annie or—"

"Good heavens no!"

"—or with anyone else who is not one of
these uh, this third sex or whatever—"

"Third sex, no, that's not accurate. It's
like ummm, there's an island where people from all over the world
vacation. They all seem very much alike but ummm, people from
Europe are attracted to others from Europe, those from Asia go with
Asians, and those from Africa go for Africans."

"Yes?"

"Well, ummm, I'm from Africa and I am nearly
crazy looking for other Africans."

"You are telling me,
Bruce...”

"Yes, I am telling you that we are different
souls—a different order of souls trying to fit ourselves into this
crazy world. Aliens, if you will, aliens...trying our best to find
a fit where no fit is possible. Not possible, that is, the way the
rules of the game have been rigged against us. It's like decreeing
that no Africans may fall in love."

"That's an interesting concept."

"It's much more than a concept, I'm afraid.
Luckily I have found the truth for myself. But for each one like
me, there are thousands like poor Herman."

"You knew Herman, then? We're talking Herman
Milhaul? Somehow I got the impression that you hadn't—when I
mentioned his name the other night you acted dumb."

"I knew him vaguely. The name didn't ring a
bell right away. I'd heard—but I could not help him. He was too
lost, too confused, poor soul. Well, he's getting the dickens for
it right now."

"Where uh, where is he getting that?"

"Another realm. He'll be given time to
straighten it out, then he'll have to try again."

"He'll be born again?"

"Yes."

"Same as before?"

"Considering the record this last time, yes,
I'm sure of it."

"You're saying he has no sexual choice."

"At this stage of his evolution, none
whatever. He's been through all the rest and mastered it. Now he
must master this."

"You mean that he has evolved into a gay
soul?"

"That is an amusing idea.
But it's not too far from the truth, at that. For want of a better
name here on earth, yes; I suppose you could think of him as a gay
soul."

"Is there a name for it in that other
realm?"

"Yes, there is. But there is no exact
correspondence in our language. There is a word, however, that is
very close."

"Which one is that?"

"Angel."

"Angel?"

"Close enough, yes. Close enough."

I must interrupt the
transcript at this point because it is here that we begin to veer
away into the other stuff and I wish, for the record (same as I did
for Clara), to place Bruce into proper perspective. Here are just a
few of the more familiar names of those who might sympathize most
strongly with Brace's struggle for understanding: Alexander the
Great, Horatio Alger, Hans Christian Andersen, W. H. Auden, Edward
II (English king), Gaius Julius Caesar, André Gide, Nikolai Gogol,
Hadrian, Henry III (French king), Rock Hudson, Alexander von
Humboldt, James I (English king), John Maynard Keynes, Leonardo da
Vinci, W. Somerset Maugham, Michelangelo (Buonarroti), Montezuma
II, Plato, Cole Porter, Marcel Proust, Richard I (the
Lion-Hearted—English king), Arthur Rimbaud, Camille Saint-Saëins,
Sappho, Pope Sixtus IV (Francesco della Rovere), Socrates,
Sophocles, Gertrude Stein, Petr Ilich Tchaikovsky, Walt Whitman,
Tennessee Williams...

Angels all, perhaps, if Bruce is right.

"How widely is it known, Bruce, that Annie
is—how would you call it?—sort of like your stepmother."

"Who told you that?"

"I picked it up. Is it truer'

"It's a ridiculous thought. First off, she
is only a few years older than I. Secondly, no man ever formally
acknowledged fathering me; not to me, anyway. But if you are
alluding to the fact that Annie married a man of advanced years who
virtually on his death bed claimed to be my father, no, we do not
talk about that."

"Have you ever discussed it with her?"

"Well of course I have. It was she who
sought me out and brought me to his deathbed."

"I understood that he died from a fall in
the bathtub."

"He died from injuries sustained in that
fall. He was in his death coma when first I learned of him."

"So you never really had a chance to talk to
him."

"It's just as well. I probably would have
cursed him. I was not as enlightened then as I am now."

"How old are you, Bruce?"

"Well now, that is a rude question."

"Fuck it. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-eight. How old are you?"

"Older than that, but not much. I never knew
my dad either. Not even on his deathbed. My name is Ford by pure
chance and my mother's wit. I was conceived on the backseat of
one, you see. If she even knew his name she took the secret to the
grave with her. But I don't believe I would curse him if I met him
now."

"Obviously you had a more
pleasant childhood than I did. I was regarded as a humiliating
bastard all my life by grandparents who gave me their name but
never their affection. My mother died while I was an infant. I did
not know until just about a year ago that George Farrel paid
support to my grandparents all the way through college. They never
told me about him. Annie did, God love her. She wanted to unite us
before he died. He was in quite bad health, you know, for more than
a year before his accident."

"I didn't know that, no."

"Uh huh. Probably why he fell. She was at
his side constantly but, you know, these things happen. Look away
for just a second and that's all it takes. She was inconsolable for
the longest time. Blamed herself. Why do we do that? That woman is
a saint, but still she had to take the guilt."

"She also took the estate, though, didn't
she."

"How dare you!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean—well yes, I guess I
did. Let's be honest if nothing else. She got your dad's estate.
You got nothing. How do you feel about that?"

"Look around you, Mr. Ford. This is my
father's estate. It is no more Annie's than mine. We are both
merely stewards."

"Nonprofit corporation?"

"Of course."

"Could I see your charter?"

"Any time. Ask one of the ladies."

"Are you an officer?"

"Of course. I am the executive
vice-president. And I have a lifetime chair on the board of
directors."

"Then what is all this jazz about Annie's
personal secretary?"

"I am that, too."

"Uh huh. How 'bout the
deal Francois Mirabel is cooking up? Do you have a piece of
that?"

"Do
I
have? Not the personal
I
, of course not. But
all net proceeds will go to the corporation. What are you
suggesting?"

"Just curious. You said earlier that you
have been expecting misfortune, that things work that way. What
did you mean by that?"

"Well, I simply meant that the law has been
set in motion."

"Which law is that?"

"The law of opposition. It is always
there."

"Sort of like action and reaction?"

"Well yes, sort of, but more than that. Much
more pervasive. For every force there is an opposing force. This
dynamic tension is everywhere. It keeps things balanced. Say, for
instance, you hurl a rock into the air. Why shouldn't it just keep
on going, because actually it is falling away from the earth. But
it returns very quickly to earth under the counterforce of
gravity."

"I don't uh...see the connection, Bruce,
between the law of gravity and what is happening to Reverend
Annie."

"I said for instance,
didn't I. Something very much like that happens any time any force
is exerted upon the universe. Spiritual force as well as physical
force. Any time you start pushing, something starts pushing back.
It's the law."

“
Are we talking good and
evil?”

"Heavens no, it's all the
same thing. We are talking force and counterforce, the dynamic
balance in the universe. Good heavens, Ford, don't you understand
that life itself is a force and that every other thing in the
universe is opposing that force? That's the way it works. Not good
or evil. Just simply the way it works. And things get
dreadfully
tense when a
strongly spiritual force is present."

"A spiritual force such as Annie."

"Precisely. The entire universe must this
moment be gathering its forces to annihilate her."

"That's uh...that's quite
a presumption, isn't it? I mean, that the entire universe—we're
talking time-space, right?—the whole time-space universe is getting
nervous about the activities of a relatively infinitesimal speck on
the planet Earth?"

"Snicker if you must. I'm
telling you that is the way it works."