Author Part 11
(Chapter 64 of "Senses")
LOS ANGELES
Once again the story is going to fragment into several groups within a single setting, of which I was only in one of several. Once Mats and Scott and I had arrived back at the warehouse in Los Angeles we split up almost immediately to work on separate projects. It was a long and sleepless evening, let me tell you, except for 'drink and Nicki, who had both turned in for the night even before we began. I'll cover the groups and what they did one by one.
Scott and Debbie (a natural insomniac, it turns out) started going over the information on Dr. Hopkins that had accumulated in Larry's files. Dr. Hopkins was a particle physicist at Arizona State University who had published a series of papers and articles about the carriage of single stream data on a particle beam one electron in thickness. The theory was that a single continuous stream of electrons could be made to read as any possible combination of data. A variation of something called Bell's Theory according to Jim.
Now this may not seem like much to you, but consider this. Information is transmitted electronically using pulses of information. Ons and offs. As Scott always says, everything in the universe can be broken down into binary. What Dr. Hopkins proposed was that there was an even simpler way. He proposed that the medium was inconsequential - that data existed for data's sake and could be expressed in the simplest of possible terms.
Most scientists seemed to scoff at the idea. For example, Debbie found in a rebuttal of a paper in one journal that a Dr. Menvillantópolasantis (whew!) adamantly refused to believe a contiguous stream of electrons of the necessary magnitude was even possible, given the problem of like electrical and magnetic charges. Was Dr. Hopkins suggesting that data was electricity? Dr. Hopkins responded two editions of the journal later with a telling two sentence reply: Haven't you ever heard of anti-electrons? I'm talking about a physical, contiguous stream you moron!
I realize that I'm not explaining this very thoroughly. I barely understand it myself. Let's just say that the basics are right there and let it go at that. There's a million other things in these theories, but I don't understand those at all. I'll leave those discussions to others and discuss the relevant sections at the appropriate time in this chapter.
The thing I should point out is why Larry even had these items in his file. First, there was a note on the paper in question in Larry's handwriting. "Could this be a clue to A.J.'s eyesight?" the note read. A second, smaller notation was found on the reply several journals later. "Vindictive," was all it said.
"Vindictive is right," Scott said when he saw the comment. "Any time that someone criticizes his theories he blasts them back. It deteriorates into name-calling rather quickly."
"There are other examples here," Debbie responded. "The thing I find most interesting is that he seems to have vanished four years ago. I think this guy would rather continue publishing than disappear, and as Larry has nothing past 1994 in the file, I'm going to assume that Dr. Hopkins dropped from the face of the Earth for some reason."
Scott and Debbie sat at a computer terminal near the mainframe computer in the main warehouse room. Their assignment was to figure out where Dr. Hopkins was. The final article published by the man had a biography that simply stated "Dr. Douglas Hopkins, formerly at ASU..." You get the idea.
"The big thing to discover is why he left ASU," Debbie pointed out. "There may be some clues there."
"The first thing to pinpoint is when, then why," Scott replied. "Time to raid ASU's computer net."
"What's the plan?"
"We go back first to the publication date of the journal, and subtract six months to account for the lead time in publication. Then I start raiding files backwards by date with a few key search words."
"What keywords will you use here?"
"The man's name, his occupation, the words 'retirement' and 'resignation'."
Debbie nodded. "Throw in the words 'scandal' and 'disgrace'," she said. "The departure could have been forced. Maybe try a search of classes he might have taught as well, to help narrow down the point of search."
"Good idea," Scott replied, rubbing his eyes. "This may take a while. Do me a favor and get me a hot chocolate from the commissary? I've been around the world and back more than once today and it's starting to slow me down."
Debbie laughed. "I'm not your servant," she said.
"Then do it while I initiate the search."
"Just teasing you youngster. You work, I'll get food."
Scott shook his head as Debbie walked towards the kitchen. "Youngster," he muttered to himself as he began to type.
At the same time, Angie had me strapped to a table near the medical equipment trying to figure out my allergy to Karen. Paul was also along, feeding innuendo to Angie while she winked at me at random intervals. My own fantasies didn't include bondage, but my attraction towards Angie was developing at an exponential rate.
Karen was also part of the effort, but mostly to see what the range of the effect on me was. Presently she was forty feet away from me.
"How do you feel?" Karen almost shouted.
"Better," I replied.
"Forty feet seems to be the magic distance," Angie said. "Wonder why that is?"
"Don't ask me," I replied. "Can I be unstrapped now? I'd like to get some sleep tonight."
Angie grinned at me. "You can sleep right here if you need to. You have reacted rather unpredictably during your previous encounters. The first time you passed out, the second time you stripped buck naked and slept with Nicki. While we don't have any handle on your ability, let's just play it safe, shall we?"
I was downright embarrassed. "Point made," I squeaked.
"Good," Paul added. "Let's get on topic. The question is why this happens only when Karen is in the room. What's so special about Karen that it triggers the effect?"
"The obvious answer is the empathy," Angie said, "but I've got my doubts. I have some of the same ability and Jace here isn't effected by me at all."
"Not true," Paul replied. "I've never known you to not have an effect on a man. And several women."
Angie looked sternly at Paul, but with a slight grin on her face. "You can be just as vulgar as the boys over there," she pointed to Jim and A.J. over at the machine we had recovered from the ocean. "And without any profanity! I'm impressed."
"Fuck you too dear," Paul replied. "How's that for profane?"
Angie found a pillow on a nearby table and threw it at him. She's a good shot. It hit him right in the stomach with a satisfying thud. Paul took the pillow and threw it on the ground. With a quick "thank you" to Angie and a nod he promptly lay down on the floor and closed his eyes.
"What's with you?" Karen called out.
"It's been a long day," Paul replied. "I'm going to rest up a bit. Wake me if you discover anything."
Angie smiled. "Bastard," she muttered to herself as she returned her attention to me. She scrutinized me for a moment. "He's right, isn't he?"
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Don't even try that with me. I haven't forgotten about your memory. I do have an effect on you, don't I? Be honest about it." The look on her face had become serious. "I mean it. It's important."
I just stared for a moment. When I finally spoke it felt like I had cotton in my mouth. "You are one of the most attractive women I've ever seen," I finally said, almost in a whisper. "I know I'm too young for you, but I do have a fantasy or two reserved for you."
Angie smiled, a pleasant thing to see. "I'm flattered," she said. "Do you see Karen the same way?"
"No," I replied, puzzled. Then a lightbulb went off in my head that I should have noticed some time ago. "Are you doing this to me?"
Angie shook her head. "No, you are. That's how attraction works. You have my word on it, I'm not doing my own schtick on you."
I laid my head back on the table. "Small relief," I said.
Angie looked at me thoughtfully. "I've got an idea," she said. "I want to do my thing to you to see its effect. Would you mind?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I suppose not."
Wow!
That's about as much of the experience as I can accurately describe. To use a parable, it was like having my fantasies realized without actually having physically experienced them. All of them. Simultaneously. This is what virtual reality should be like.
When she turned the fountain off there were two things I noticed relatively quickly. The first was that I had an erection. The second was that Karen was next to the table, and I felt fine!
"What happened?" I asked.
"What do you remember?" Angie asked.
"Not much. Mostly the sensation of having you in my head. That was damned impressive!"
"It was a stronger reaction than I expected."
"How so?"
"To start with," Karen said, "you've been under the spell for almost an hour."
I tried to sit up with my exclaimed "What!" but I was still strapped down. The effect would have been comical if I hadn't been so alarmed. Both Karen and Angie reached out to steady me.
"What the hell happened?"
Angie began to pace. "First you went into what looked like a coma and Karen rushed over here to help me out. I was scared to break the connection because we didn't know what the effect of that would be. So we decided to probe around to see what we could find."
"So you've been roaming around my skull for an hour?"
"About that."
"So what did you find? Obviously I seem to be cured."
"We found sensory depravation," Karen said.
"Excuse me?"
"Remember that I'm a psychiatrist. I have some experience exploring the psyche. What occurred to me when you reacted so strongly to Angie's probe was that there might be an emotional reason for your reactions to us. So I used my own experiences with patients to explore for a cause to your problem. Usually I let this drag on, because most people's personae are a bit fragile. In your case I've had to accelerate it, due to our other problems."
"You sound like you don't like that," I observed.
"I don't. Anyway, it seems that you've detached yourself from emotions in your life."
"I have emotions," I said emotionally, just to prove the point.
"We know," Angie said. "That's not what she means. You've simply detached yourself from your existence."
I must have looked confused, because Karen jumped right back in.
"In your experiences with us in the past few days, have you had any emotional reaction to any of this at all?" Karen was pacing again. "Have you looked at this in any way other than clinically?"
I frowned. "I don't know," I said. "I haven't given it a lot of thought."
"You probably haven't given thought to your emotional state in a long time," Angie noted. "We know that you haven't reacted emotionally to all of us since you first met Nicki."
I thought on this. "Unstrap me," I said.
As she did, Karen continued, saying, "My particular talent requires that you have some emotional input available. That input wasn't there, so..."
"Something else had to react," I said, sitting up. It was easier than I thought, despite the fading erection. "So what happened to get me here?" I pointed to Karen. "To get you here?"
"You've had an emotional block. Probably it was built up over time as a defense mechanism for your talent."
"It probably is the reason you've never recognized that you even have a talent," Angie said. "It's probably also the reason for your reaction to my own initial probe."
"Let's not repeat that one for now," I commented.
"Agreed."
"The end of the story is that we've torn the block down," Karen finished.
"Torn it down?" I asked. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"We won't know for a bit yet," Karen admitted. "It probably won't settle out until you have an emotional crisis. We'll deal with the repercussions when they occur."
I smirked mostly to myself. "So I'm cured, but I'm also a time bomb," I muttered. "Wonderful."
Angie grinned. "Yep. Should be interesting, yes?"
I laughed. "I'm the victim of another Chinese curse!" I yelled.
"What?" Karen asked.
"The exact quote is 'may you live in interesting times'. I've never thought it to be anything other than a curse."
It took a moment, but we all broke into hysterical laughter.
Paul looked up from his pillow. "Found something?" he asked.
It took a while before any of us were able to say anything through the laughter.
During my blackout Jim, A.J., Carrie and Mats had made considerable progress with the machine we had salvaged. Mats wasn't involved for long; just long enough to get the machine to accept an interface Scott rigged up instead of accessing Mats directly. Mats then went to the ship, leaving the other three to unravel the workings of the machine, now nothing more than an advanced computer.
For his part, Jim was flabbergasted for perhaps the first time in years. "The engineering behind this thing is phenomenal!" he exclaimed.
A.J. nodded. "Agreed," he said. "Doc Hopkins is a genius."
"He's a fucking madman, but other than that you're right. I mean, what kind of mind could come make the leaps of logic necessary to even think of the science, let alone apply it?"
"You admire him," Carrie commented.
"No," Jim replied quickly. "But I am very fucking impressed. When Larry and the others get here I'd love to hear his bent on the file we got."
"Fine!" Carrie was pacing. "Care to let me in on the secret here?"
A.J. stood up from the machine and smiled. "Sorry lover," he said.
"I've been listening to you for a half hour about electrons and quarks and muons and equations I don't even come close to understanding. Remember that we don't all get this crap!"
Jim shook his head. "I need a drink," he said. "My manners are slipping. A.J.?"
"You never had any manners," A.J. shot back. "Get me a drink too. I'll let the lady in on it."
"Will do." Jim spun around and headed for the kitchen.
A.J. grabbed a chair and sat down. Carrie did the same. "We're making a shitload of assumptions," he began, "based on the code of the computer program and information from the machine itself, but what we've got goes something like this.
"From each side of the machine a continuous stream of electrons is shot out, but even before that a muon is sent at the head of the stream."
"Time out," Carrie said. "Muon?"
"It's a subatomic particle similar to the electron but of much larger mass and some of it's reactive properties are different. Thing is, the muon isn't as stable as an electron. It needs something to react to. What Hopkins has done here is to predict exactly when that reaction will take place, and sustain it. That's fantastic enough, damned near impossible, but he then makes the electron stream reflect off of the reaction."
"It can do that because of the similar electrical charges," Jim added, returning with a bottle of Bushmill's for himself and a single Vodka and tonic for A.J.
"Nothing for me?" Carrie asked.
"You didn't ask."
"You're rude. Anyway, what happens next?"
Jim took a long drink from the bottle then continued the conversation. "Assume that not only could you predict the reaction, but that every few billion electrons you could send out another muon. Suppose this one had a protective molecular layer that also needed to react before the muon reaction could take place."
"The next reaction would take place at a later time," Carrie responded.
"Very good," A.J. said. "Over a very short period of time, less than a second, you could create a lightning bolt type of fissure several miles in length, with a continuous string of electrons ricocheting down the fissure at nearly the speed of light, bouncing from wall to wall as the fissure increases."
Carrie nodded. "Okay, so now we've got the fissure. What happens next?"
"Next comes some more guesswork. Other particles are sent down the line tweaking the electrons and sending them in all directions, like a controlled explosion. Thing is that there are so many particles compacted into this space that the effects are felt fairly widespread."
Carrie's jaw fell. "Are you implying that this Doctor Hopkins has created a fusion reaction?" She asked.
"Well, yes. Sort of." A.J. took a big gulp of his drink, then passed it to Carrie who also took a big drink.
"Why didn't it look like an explosion in Greenland then?"
"It was an ice field. Not a lot of evidence to be left behind with this sort of thing. Scott thought it was an explosion, Larry didn't. It leaves confusing traces."
"Wouldn't an explosion of this magnitude leave one hell of a lot of evidence?"
"It did," Jim said after another long swallow. "We found it, didn't we? Think about it. The fissure is 12 miles long and over 100 feet in width. But there's one thing no one has noticed yet. There were no ridges built up from the explosion. No craters. I'd be willing to bet that the ice has been impacted into itself laterally."
A.J. whistled. "This man is brilliant," he said.
"This man is frightening," Carrie said. "How much more powerful would this thing need to be to wipe out the human race?"
"Not much more," Jim said. "The earth could be destroyed in seconds with enough of these things linked up and set off in the proper sequence."
Carrie reached up and took Jim's bottle and took a long swig. Afterwards she wiped her lip and then took another one. "For the first time I think I'm getting scared," she said. "The enormity of what we're trying to prevent here! It could happen and we might not even know it until we were dead."
Jim took the bottle back. "Exactly. So every second we've got is a borrowed one." He shook his head. "Fuck me man!"
Carrie nodded and swallowed. "How does this machine produce the particles necessary?" she asked.
"Not a clue," A.J. answered. "What we've been able to figure out is due to the machine giving us direction in the programming language. Metallurgy and the specific engineering of this contraption will take a lot longer."
"Do we need to go into any of that?"
"We should try. This machine won't last much longer if Mats is right."
As if on cue (which happens a great deal in my life - Jace) the machine began to spark and emit smoke. Then the sparks died and the computer link was severed. Mats walked into the room holding his head. "It's dead," he stated.
The four of them looked over to the examination table where I was being unstrapped from at that very moment. Jim smiled his ironic smile and took another drink from his bottle. "That kid's becoming a welcome pain in the ass," he said.
A.J. and Carrie laughed. Finally Carrie looked over to Mats. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Fine," Mats replied. "A bit of a headache but it's fading."
"Where have you been?" Jim asked.
"Getting a question or two answered," Mats replied.
Mats had left Jim and the others and retreated to the roof to speak with Janis. A few things about what had happened during his encounter with both machines that troubled him.
He had never had full contact with an artificial intelligence other than Janis. Even during his mad ramblings during the time snap there had never been more than gibberish running through his head. Everything he had come to believe about his induction from Earth by the Foundation was now in jeopardy, and he had to know.
"Janis?"
"Yes Mats," the ship replied.
"Can we contact green thing?"
"We can. I would advise against it."
"Why?"
"We have been left alone for a long time now. Do you want to drag the Foundation back into the situation when they've admitted that this juncture is precisely the reason they could not interfere? This time they may actually kill you."
"I don't believe that for an instant. If that were the case, they would have killed us long before this time."
"Probability uncertain."
Mats nodded and made a decision. "Open a channel," he intoned.
"Open what?"
Mats chuckled. "You never saw 'Star Trek'. I forget that sometimes. I've never used that command before?"
"Not that I can recall."
"Interesting. Anyway, it means contact them."
"Establishing link."
"Wait a moment. How will we find green thing? Do you know it's real name?"
"I do. Before you ask, your language hasn't the vocabulary or the symbols necessary to translate it, so I won't elaborate. Green thing will do fine. I have it."
Mats took a sharp inward breath, not even allowing himself to reflect on how quickly Janis had established contact. A small holographic display of the alien appeared in front of Mats on the deck. "Matthias," the translated voice came.
"Green thing! Long time no see!"
"This is dangerous for you."
"Bullshit and you know it. I may never understand why we went through what we did, but I do understand that whatever danger to us there ever was has passed. Or whatever danger we represent. Whatever."
"You will never know," green thing replied.
"I don't really even care anymore. Anyway, I have a reason for my call. The crisis point is upon us."
Green thing shook visibly. "Interesting. Continue."
"The cause of this crisis appears to be another individual who has similar abilities to mine."
Now green thing was shaking violently. "You are certain?"
"We even know the man's name," Mats replied. "We don't know where he is, but we're looking for him. Can you help?"
"I..."
"Don't give me that non-interference crap either. You've already interfered. All I need is the man's location. We'll do the rest."
Mats had never seen green thing like this. A tree in a hurricane wouldn't be shaking so much. "Must you be a constant reminder of my failure?" the alien finally asked.
"What?"
"There will be no further communication between us." The link was cut and green thing's picture faded.
"Damn! Get him back!"
"I'll try," Janis said. After several seconds she said, "No response."
"All right, let's let him go. What did he mean by his failure?"
"Analysis?" Janis asked.
"Please."
"When green thing picked up you and 'drink and didn't pick up any of the other paranormals we've seen, green thing failed in the mission he's admitted to us."
"But we also know that the reasons he gave us were false. Shit!" Mats paced, then slowed and sighed. "Has Jace mentioned to you his theory about the reasons behind what happened to the Davis' and me?"
"He has. There is a logic behind it, if no facts. Mats, we will get nowhere pursuing this line. We should assume that the link to the Foundation doesn't even exist. Should the aliens appear, we should deal with them at that point."
Mats nodded. "Fair enough." He rubbed his eyes and sat down on the couch in the main room the entire exchange had taken place in. "Dim the lights to twenty percent of normal please," he said. "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me in an hour and I'll fill in the others."
"Done. Any music?"
Mats allowed a smile to form on his lips. Janis knew him well. "Play 'I Will Take you Home' from the Grateful Dead's Built To Last album."
Mats fell asleep before the second verse, only to wake less then twenty minutes later with a stabbing pain in his head. The other machine is dying!
"So I found myself here," Mats said to the others. He looked over at me, as Angie and Karen and I had joined them. "You're right Jim, Jace really is a welcome pain in the ass."
Jim looked at me. "Have you ever read a Spider Robinson story called 'The End Of The Painbow', or perhaps another one called 'Immediate Family'?" he asked.
I shook my head no.
"Another good coincidence," Jim noted. "You know a lot of Spider's work but not the ones that would apply directly to you. I'll loan it to you, so you can read about a character called Ernie. You'll want to kill Spider by the time you've finished it. The character in question seems to be a lot like you."
I laughed. "Bet you that I never get the chance to read it," I said.
Jim raised his bottle and drained it. "I probably won't be able to find it now," he replied, laughing, "so no bet. You're not always a welcome pain in the ass, you know."
"I know."
"God damn!"
Scott's voice rang out through the warehouse. "God damn it!"
"What's up?" A.J. asked.
"This is the first time I haven't been able to find someone through the networks. The man vanished after he was at Arizona State University."
"I thought no one ever really vanishes," I said.
"No one does! This guy is good! At least as good as me."
"Now I'm really frightened," Carrie said. A.J. hugged her close.
"Have you considered that he may have been driven from ASU?" Angie asked.
"Pursuing that line of thought now. It's all we've got left to even initiate a good search."
"Hello," Debbie said from the work station at the computer.
Scott spun around, his attention on Debbie. "Got something?"
"Think so. A newspaper article."
Scott slowly turned around and faced me, then thought better of the comment he was about to unleash and faced Debbie again. "Read it," he said.
"Here goes. 'Dr. Douglas Hopkins has resigned his post at Arizona State University this week after four tumultuous months of what could be best described as a scandal that never was.
"Dr. Hopkins was first arrested four months ago for instigating a fight in a local tavern, The Strand, with a fellow scientist, apparently about allegations that Dr. Hopkins had made a fellow researcher pregnant. Upon investigation by our staff we discovered that Dr. Alma Wallace had indeed been pregnant, but had aborted the fetus.
"The charges against Dr. Hopkins were dropped, but then the scientist filed suit against this paper for insinuating that he had indeed impregnated another scientist. That suit was dropped yesterday in what can be assumed as a related incident.
"Last month Dr. Hopkins was questioned by police about an incident at Dr. Wallace's home during which Dr. Wallace drew a gun on Dr. Hopkins. Dr. Hopkins refused to press charges, and was described as sullen and depressed by officers at the scene.
"Dr. Hopkins has denied he has been offered a post in India and will not comment on future plans.' That's it."
"That's a newspaper article?" Karen asked.
"Verbatim."
Karen made a face. "Ick," she commented.
"This isn't a lot of help," Paul said from his position on the floor.
"Awake are you?" Angie asked.
"Never could sleep with all this racket going on. My point is that we've reached a dead end."
"What about India?" Debbie asked.
"We could search but it would probably take days. Look how long it took just searching in Arizona. We've hit a wall."
There were nods all around the room, except for Jim, who had his trademark smile on his face. I noticed it first and said, "What have you figured out Jim?"
"We've got his ass nailed," he said.
"How you figure?" Carrie asked.
"This son of a motherfucker is very touchy about his apparent girlfriend and what ever happened between the two of them. He's also vindictive as hell; far more than Larry had indicated in the file."
"So?"
"I'll bet you that if we were to publicize the scandal somehow that he'd try to reach us personally with a response."
"Suppose you're right," Paul said. "How do we reach...this..." he trailed off as light bulbs went off above people's heads around the room. Even I got it, new as I was to the group.
"I'll have a press release out tomorrow," Paul stated. "New and controversial Jim Christopher single!"
"Christopher brothers single," A.J. said. "Get more press that way."
Jim clapped his hands together. "I've even got a melodic line in mind," he said. "Something I've been saving for a while. A.J., let's get the lyrics together. Paul, how fast can we get this out?"
"Unknown," Paul replied. "Pressing is what takes the time."
"Call in some favors. I'd like radio to have this by next Monday." Jim had a look in his eyes that I can only describe as maniacal. "To the studio!" he shouted.
The phone rings - it's someone that I haven't seen in a couple of months or so
She invites me over for a drink although it must be right around one or so
I'm tired, but I accept and I ask for directions to get there
A small laugh 'cause I don't remember and she tells me where to find her
Understand she was a one night stand
Met her in a bar and we made love on The Strand
It didn't have all that much meaning to me
I was drunk and so was she
The door opens, there's a gun in her hand and it's found it's way towards my face
Then she says she sorry, she knows it isn't funny and she throws the gun into the fireplace
A couple of beers and we chat for a while - not much substance but plenty of style
She grows silent - has something to say and I try to coax it out with a smile
Hang on Jim because you may want to run
I found out you were going to have a son
I didn't call you then I handled it on my own
But I had to tell you now or you'd never known
I was subdued for a while then I told her she had done the right thing
Other than that what else could I say without being patronizing?
I left her home and now she's with someone else - until now I have not told anyone
It's like a little piece of my soul that I'm inclined to share with no one
Those are the lyrics to "Piece Of My Soul", released by Jim and A.J. Christopher, dedicated to Dr. Hopkins and the briefly anonymous Dr. W., just like it said in the press release, the advertising, and on the jacket of the CD cover. A.J. also recorded a blistering instrumental called "Arizona State Lover Scandal" just to further irk Hopkins. The lyrics, although I realize you probably already knew them, are reprinted here because they weren't enclosed in the first issue of the single. We had simply moved too fast.
Jim held a news conference the Monday the single hit radio, saying he had reached the inspiration for the single from an old news clipping his brother had run across. He proceeded to tell the press corps about the Arizona story we had stumbled on. As a result, the story got played all around the world.
The following Wednesday Dr. Wallace surfaced and held a press conference of her own, with Paul, Jim and A.J. in attendance. (Paul had been amazing, first finding the Doctor and then getting her permission to release the single, despite the fact that we were prepared to drop all mention of her name from the story.) At the conference, she publicly stated that she was the woman in question in the story and that she was amazed just how many of the unpublished portions of the story we had correct (frankly, so were we - Jim and A.J. had simply written a good lyric to go with the syncopated rhythms of the song).
She also stated the yes, she had had an abortion and that Dr. Hopkins was the most likely candidate to have been the father. She also stated that she felt there was no scandal involved here and that Dr. Hopkins had overreacted to the whole ordeal. She even liked the song and gave her blessing to its release.
Bless her, Dr. Wallace is one strong woman with the ability to be self-effacing and I'm sorry that I still haven't met her. Only Paul, Jim, A.J. and Karen have.
Dr. Wallace wasn't alone in her praise of the single. "Piece Of My Soul" hit number one on the second week of its release and stayed at the top of the chart for nine weeks: it stayed in the top ten for almost twenty weeks. According to Billboard, one person in five in the United States owns at least a bootleg copy of the single. Just to compare, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" is owned in only one of every ten, and it's the biggest selling pop album of all time.
Everyone eagerly awaited a response from Dr. Hopkins. Even the press was involved, thanks to Dr. Wallace's appearance. Everyone wanted to know what Dr. Hopkins thought about all the publicity.
Meanwhile I went back to my writing and interviewing, putting together the words that eventually became this book. I spent a lot of time with everyone except Nicki (who seemed to be avoiding me) and within two weeks I had enough material to outline the whole thing. Admittedly, by the time the single came out I had learned the basics of almost every story behind the group, but I needed facts to fill out the stories.
I also needed to spend time with Angie, to understand how she came to be involved. For a while I told myself that I was only after information, but I soon spent more time with her than anyone else in the group. I finally had to admit it; I was hooked.
The week after the single was released I turned twenty. We threw a party and it was a wild mother. Held, of course, at the bar on Montana Avenue.
Everyone was there except for Paul, who had received a call from his office and was dealing with legal paperwork. Even Nicki came out of her hiding place and partied down with the rest of us, allowing us both to forget the tension that existed between us and was making us estranged.
We were all drinking more than just a little bit, even Nicki (an old friend of the bartender's by now) and me, even though my fake I.D., good as it was, didn't fool the bartender for an instant (I hadn't been drinking alcohol the first time I had come to Jim's favorite bar). Jim, Karen, and A.J. had a three-way darts tournament going that Karen was winning (bets were being heavily placed). Scott and Mats were in a favorite place by the jukebox, trying to get a chorus of "100 bottles of beer" going. Nicki, Carrie, 'drink and Debbie had a good group dance going, with Rand and Constance dancing slow, together, and by themselves. Larry, ever the worker bee, was reconciling the ledgers for his bookstore while Morgana sat at the bar cheering on the darts match. Angie and I sat at a table, also near the darts match, working on our second and third (respectively) pieces of devil's food cake with dark chocolate frosting, finishing up a discussion of her part in this whole ordeal.
Between mouthfuls I asked, "So why did you come to California in the first place?"
Angie, eating with much more dignity than I was, smiled. "Initially," she said, "the idea was to get as lost as possible. After the problems I had had I wanted simply to disappear. Besides, the idea of becoming a beach bum had its draw."
"So how'd you end up in this gin joint?" My Bogart impression stinks, but I did it anyway.
"I didn't pucker up and blow my way in, if that's what you're asking. I just responded to one of the silliest want ads I had ever seen. 'Wanted: Bookkeeper, manager, cook, bartender, graveyard shift worker. One opening only. The easily-awed need not apply. Must have full toxilogical knowledge of alcoholic beverages. Equal opportunity employer.' I showed up at the bar one day and said 'I'm your man'. Mike said..."
"What I said was fairly sexist," the bartender said, bringing over a gin and tonic for me and a melon daiquiri for Angie. "However, Angie ordered a drink and said 'let's begin' and I hired her thirty minutes later." He set the drinks on our table and walked away.
I looked at my drink and shook my head in wonder. "He's amazing," I said. "This is precisely what I was in the mood for."
Angie sipped her drink. "Me too," she replied. "I sometimes think that the Greek god of alcohol is his familiar."
"Baccuss..."
"Because I can come up with no other explanation."
I threw a piece of cake at her in recognition of the pun. It splatted nicely across the front of her shirt. Angie laughed and stood up from the table. Slowly, with a determined look on her face and a laugh in her eyes, she picked up the piece of cake she was working on and menaced in my general direction. I backed away and nearly tripped over Larry.
"Careful there," Larry said just as Angie let fly with the cake. It missed me entirely, but it didn't miss Larry.
Splut!
Larry sat there stunned for a moment while Angie rushed over to apologize.
"Larry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get you with that!"
Larry, with a disgusted look on his face, closed the now stained account ledger he had been going through and placed it in his briefcase below the table. He then picked up his briefcase and without a word walked over to the bar to give the case to the bartender. As others in the bar realized that Larry looked in a bad mood (covered with cake) a general hush began to fall, except at the dart board, while he brushed the crumbs away. He had been fortunate that no frosting had got him (Angie eats the frosting first).
Larry returned to the table with a slow, deliberate walk. He then calmly picked up a new piece of cake from the table where it rested and offered the plate to Angie. Angie sheepishly extended a hand to take the offered cake. Then Larry winked and threw the cake.
At me!
Larry, without looking towards me, asked, "More like that?"
Angie, jaw dropped, shook her head no. Larry turned around to look at me.
I had ducked, of course, and the cake had missed. Instead it had entered the darts lane and apparently had been skewered by a throw by A.J. The dart and cake were stuck to the board in the outer bullseye ring. Both A.J. and Jim were staring at the board, while Karen was celebrating with jubilation. She had won the match.
Jim walked to the board and removed the dart and offending confection. He licked the chocolate off of the dart and tossed the cake over his shoulder, which landed in a trash can by the bar.
Sensing a lull, Scott and Mats began singing. "54 bottles of beer on the wall, 54 bottles of beer..."
Many of the other patrons began to laugh and then join in. Except for Rand and Constance, the people on the dance floor tried to mix the current jukebox selection with the rendition of "bottles of beer" but for the most part it looked like a drunken jitterbug or a cross between the foxtrot and the gator. It was ugly.
I laughed to myself and turned to face Angie and Larry. Morgana had joined them, and had picked up the remainder of the cake. She brought it over to me.
"Before this gets any stranger," she said, "would you put this on the bar out of harm's way?"
"Certainly," I said, just as the cake was tipped up into my face.
While I was recovering from the shock of being cream-pied (ever see that used as a verb before?) in the face, I heard Morgana say, "Sometimes you're supposed to be hit with the cake."
I tried to throw pieces of cake at random individuals but failed for the most part. Only Angie received more cake on her clothing. Larry, Morgana, Angie and I were soon laughing up a storm. Finally, Angie said, "We should clean up. I'll ask Mike if we can borrow his kitchen for a few minutes and try to get some of this gunk off of us."
"It's chocolate, not gunk," Morgana observed.
"Chocolate gunk."
Angie asked and then led me to the back room behind the bar, where we found some towels and began removing the biggest chunks from our clothing.
"One of us should have called for a food fight," I said.
Angie laughed. "Perhaps so," she responded. She looked at the smears of frosting on her shirt. "This is no good. This shirt needs a long soak."
"Not likely here."
"True. However..." without even a moment's notice she took her shirt off and began rinsing it off at the sink. She wasn't wearing a bra. Very nice.
I admit I stared. When Angie finally noticed that I shook my head. "I could have used a warning," I said.
"Sorry."
"I mean, you're worth staring at, but I wasn't prepared to have those magnificent breasts of yours staring back at me."
Angie actually blushed a little, but she didn't cover herself up. "I really do effect you, don't I?" she asked.
I nodded. "I know you aren't doing your thing on me," I said. "But you do have one hell of a body. It's like being hypnotized."
She walked over to me very quickly and kissed me. On the lips. With feeling. When we finally came up for air I said, "Wow!" I meant it too.
"I could hypnotize you," she said, a coy smile on her face.
"Excuse me?"
"I know how to do it, even without my ability."
"What does..."
"You're the first man in a while who was attracted to me just for the sake of being attracted. My ability often precludes me from starting something with someone, because I don't always know if I'm effecting them in some way, subconsciously."
"You don't?"
"I don't. That's what makes my ability hard to classify. But with you at least I know that it's really you who are attracted to me." Her chest came up to my face. There was some chocolate frosting still there, which I sampled. "You're tasty," I said.
Angie looked me straight in the eye. "I'm fourteen years older than you," she said. "Can you handle that?"
I thought about it. "I don't know," I finally said. "Look, for right now I'm attracted to you, and it seems there's some attraction towards me on your part. Let's work with that for now and see what happens."
"Seeing what happens isn't easy for me."
"It's always more interesting this way." I kissed her with as much passion as I could muster. She reciprocated.
We were like that for a while, and I'm not sure how long. We would have continued and probably stayed in the kitchen for a long while getting to know each other biblically except for a cheer that came from the bar. After a moment Paul burst in. He looked at us for a split second, Angie topless sitting on my lap, then recovered.
"Finish up in here," he said. "We've got work to do."
"What's up?" I asked.
"Great news! Jim And A.J. have been sued!"