Magnificent Vibration (34 page)

“Then you will
all
die. As will the Earth,” Merikh says with no judgment in his tone. “Humans have entered the time of unsustainable growth. Fifty years from now there will be total rampant disease,
starvation, misery, and the end of all meaning to existence. The extinction of everything. The death of our world. The Earth is trying to save herself. Save life. You may choose to act or not to act. But non-action is
still
a choice, though it’s the less desirable of the two. By doing nothing, you choose the death of all living things. And of the planet herself.”

Alice drops to her knees and I catch her plaintive prayer, “Dear God, help me.” I hear distant sirens. They sound alien, but the meaning of their strident wail is unmistakable. The police are on their way.

“I think we better come up with a story,” I suggest to Alice, since I’m pretty sure that Merikh won’t be here when the local constabulary arrive.

I walk into the living room to see if there’s anything out of place that we might need to explain when the police arrive and I catch sight of the photograph of the couple that lived their lives in this house before we brought this craziness to it. It’s the one I found earlier and placed on the side table not six hours ago. I recognize the man in the framed shot. It is the one who said, “Call me ‘Skipper.’ ”

H
e is glad to have been with his “girl” one final time, as brief as it was. He wishes he could take her memory with him, but he knows once he crosses the barrier, she will no longer be in his mind. His
Bonnie Bradana
is for those who remain on Earth. He runs a hand along her bow and bids her good-bye. So close to the heart of his life was she. And as far as the one previously known as Ronan Bon Young can tell, she most certainly has a soul. He walks away and casts a last look back as he calls out in his native tongue,
Soraidh gu bràth.

Farewell forever.

Merikh takes his hand to lead him home.

O
f course Merikh’s stunning presence is markedly absent when the police and the paramedics arrive. Alice and I, with only a toehold in reality, tell them the story we’ve concocted on the fly. The gun was found on the premises while we were housecleaning, and it accidentally discharged as our companion was inspecting it. No one is accused of attempted homicide, but Lexington Vargas is pretty seriously fucked-up. The paramedics are fairly sure he’s lost the sight in his left eye, and he’ll need surgery to remove the metal fragments that are buried deep in his face and hands. Guns are not toys, we are told. Really?

“You should be very careful if you find a weapon. Call the police and do not handle the firearm,” are the words of wisdom from what
look like sixteen-year-old dudes masquerading as grown-up cops while Lexington Vargas is wheeled away on a gurney and Alice and I contemplate the fate of half the world. Truly, youth
is
wasted on the young.

We both apologize for the inconvenience. And thanks for the great advice on guns. We’ll visit our friend tomorrow in the local sanatorium; by the way, what are the visiting hours? Here’s my credit-card information, just put it on my tab, and no we don’t need an AIDS test even though copious amounts of bodily fluids are spattered all around, thanks a lot. Don’t forget to wear a condom when you finally get laid, see you all tomorrow, and take good care of our friend the attempted hitman. Bye!
Cheerio andràsta!

After the medics and the constables leave, I mop up the blood that could have been Alice’s but for . . . what? A twist of fate? An act of God? A plain old “shit happens”? I am as close to a spiritual awakening as I have ever been and as far from it at the same time. What was it Alice said? “Dear God, help me.”

She is sitting on the couch that, judging by the amount of wheat-colored fur still lodged deep in the corners, was also the regular haunt of Toby and Jacoby, the two little Cairn terriers who lived out their span of years here. I sit beside her and take her elegant hands in mine. I can see the edge of her tattoo peeking out from the low neck of my borrowed sweatshirt. Our minds are reeling.

Something comes to me that I read somewhere, a long, long time ago:

“What about the pain and sorrow?” asks the student.

The Master answers, “Stay with it. The wound is the place where the light enters.”

And I have no choice but to stay with it.

“How can we do this terrible thing?” Alice finally asks.

“How can we
not
?” I answer, and believe me, Woody has no say in this conversation. I know I have portrayed myself as a dick-driven idiot through most of this narrative but my soul has been screaming for recognition. And it’s time I gave my soul a voice.

“Alice,” I begin, “I will go with whatever you decide. I love you more than I love my own life, and more than anyone else’s, so whatever you choose is okay with me. If I can help you to make a choice then all you have to do is ask. If you choose
not
to choose, then, as Merikh said, you’ve made a choice anyway.”

She says nothing.

“You never told me if
I
was immune to this virus, so if these are my last days, then I’m happy with that as long as I’m with you,” I say from the deepest place in my soul.

Alice stands and extends her hand, I take it, and she leads me into her bedroom. I still don’t know if I will die or not. And I am okay with not knowing.

She will go out into the world, the emissary of global catastrophe and savior of the planet. God help us.

My wife, Barbara, for putting up with me sitting in the shade working on my laptop during our Christmas vacation in Australia when she wanted to go and do stuff.

My editor and good friend Stacy Creamer, who encouraged me from the very beginning of our relationship to write novels, and to the team at Touchstone: Susan Moldow, David Falk, Brian Belfiglio, Sophie Vershbow, Meredith Vilarello, Cherlynne Li, and webmaster Jim Bullotta, for being, in the words of Horatio Cotton, “fully awesome.”

To everyone who spent their hard-earned cash buying this book—I hope you think it was worth it—and to those who stole it (like I used to when I was a kid)—I hope you think it was worth it. :)

TOUCHSTONE READING GROUP GUIDE

Magnificent Vibration

Imagine finding a toll-free number that would connect you to God. Would you use it? What would you say? Horatio “Bobby” Cotton is at his breaking point when he finds 1-800-Call God scribbled inside the front cover of a self-help book he’s just stolen from a bookstore. At thirty-two, he’s at a dead end: stuck in a miserable job and recently divorced, having lost his wife, his house, and his beloved dog in one fell swoop. He’s considering suicide but figures he’ll screw that up, too. So why not call up the big guy?

But God has attitude—and a wacky sense of humor, and Bobby finds himself on an unexpected journey for answers to questions both big and small. A wholly original story that is at once hilarious, tragic, affecting, irreverent, and deeply thought provoking,
Magnificent Vibration
is a wild ride you will never forget.

1. At the beginning of the book, Bobby thinks,
"The scorching intersection of sex and religion will remain a potent one for me—a mash-up that will drive me to my inevitable destiny in the years ahead.”
Discuss specific moments where sex and religion intersect in his life and how you think they affect the outcome.

2. How do you think “magnificent vibration” relates to this story and to the mysterious self-help book? Why do you think Springfield used the same title for both?

3. Though mostly told through Bobby’s eyes, the novel shifts point of view and is not broken into chapters. How did this affect your reading experience? Would it have been different if the book told only Bobby’s story, without the perspectives of the OSB or Ronan Young?

4. Bobby, Lexington, and Alice are all led to copies of
Magnificent Vibration
, but only Bobby and Lexington find God’s phone number in theirs. Why do you think Alice’s book didn’t have the phone number in it?

5. How have the women in Bobby’s life shaped his character? Are there any women who haven’t let him down or betrayed him in some way? How does Alice fit into the picture?

6. Even though God asks to be called “Arthur,” it’s never clear whether God is male or female. Do you think God has gender or is a sexless being?

7. To the OSB, the people of Earth are
“destructive, ignorant, negligent masses.”
Do you think this is a fair assessment?

8. Why do you think Bobby saw the Loch Ness Monster instead of the Earth spirit? Do you think Bobby was meant to know his destiny?

9. Bobby, Alice, and Lexington are together on this complicated and mysterious journey throughout much of the book, but in the end, the focus is on Bobby and Alice. What do you think Lexington’s role was?

10. Merikh explains that by giving Bobby and Alice the virus,
“‘The Earth is trying to save herself. Save life.’”
Do you think Alice and Bobby make the right decision? Is the choice easier for one of them?

11. Though the OSB admits,
“‘I may move a few chess pieces now and then,’”
God still insists that people have free will. How does this fit with your beliefs about God, fate, destiny, or an ultimate purpose?

12. 
“‘The truest and most profound saying you have is “
Shit happens.
”’”
Agree or disagree?

1. If you could communicate directly with God, what would you say? Make a list of a few questions and share them with your discussion group.

2. All his life Bobby has loved monsters, especially the one in Loch Ness. Do you have an interest in something that’s been with you since childhood? If not, were you once fascinated by something that has no appeal to you now?

3. 
Magnificent Vibration
presents the possibility of an ugly future for our lovely planet. Visit the Nature Conservancy at
www.nature.org
to learn about green living, volunteer opportunities, and small ways you can make a positive impact on the
“Beautiful Blue, Green/White Majest . . . ‘Earth.’”

4. Rick Springfield is also the author of the
New York Times
bestselling memoir
Late, Late at Night
, named one of the twenty-five greatest rock memoirs of all time. Pick up a copy to learn more about his personal journey and the many adventures that have led him to where he is today.

RICK SPRINGFIELD
is a Grammy Award–winning musician and actor, and the author of the
New York Times
bestselling memoir
Late, Late at Night,
which
Rolling Stone
named one of the twenty-five greatest rock memoirs of all time. He lives in Malibu, California, with his wife, Barbara.

RickSpringfield.com