Authors: Deborah Layton
Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Personal Memoirs
“Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. The pain is gone. You healed my body. You took out my cancer. Thank you, God. Thank you, Jim.”
Other members who had gathered around the buffet tables looked up at the miraculous healing that had been performed and began to clap and yell. The pianist started to play a melodic song and I could hear the Reverend humming along. My newfound friend and adviser, still ahead of me in the line, began to wheeze from under her breath.
“Yes, God. Yes, Jim. Thank you, Jim. Yes, God.”
Her eyes were closed as she danced a soft and trancelike jig. Her back and shoulders seemed to loosen and she suddenly looked much younger. The pianist began to play a hymn and the minister joined in, singing the words, “He cares, he cares, Father cares for you. He cares, he cares, cares… for… you …” The melody was pleasing and it seemed as though everyone in the auditorium was humming it while they went about their business.
I felt self-conscious and stiff. I had never seen a healing before. I watched as my kindly, cane-holding friend slowly ended her dance of praise and transformed again into the aged grandmother waiting in line.
At last, my new friend spoke softly with the Reverend. I was close enough to the pulpit now to get a look inside it. There was a high stool, where I assumed the minister must sit, and an empty bookshelf to rest his feet. There were plastic containers of different sizes on the lower shelf of the lectern and pieces of paper he had forgotten to throw in the trash receptacle next to his chair. I wondered if he took off his shoes while he was up there preaching. The carpet looked plush and soft.
Finally, I was standing before Jim Jones. He was not as tall as he looked from farther back. Perhaps a little more than a head and neck above my five feet. My hands were wet and I had sweated straight through my blouse. Ashamed, I lowered my eyes and said hello.
“I hope you listened today.” The Reverend’s voice, close up, was a charming, low rasp. I expected him to be more severe, but his face
was kind, his skin smooth and tight. His dark brown eyes were focused, understanding and warm.
“Oh yes. Every word,” I responded. He smelled good, like a spicy cologne.
“It is you I was speaking to today,” he said.
Again, I lowered my eyes.
“I have felt your embarrassment throughout the service. Who has done this to you?”
I didn’t understand what he was talking about.
“Your parents have never appreciated your immense warmth and sensitivity. Not once have they recognized or embraced your wonderful and loving spirit. I want you to stay. Join me and my family of all races.”
“Well, I …”
“Wait, I feel something …” He closed his eyes as if pulling in information from somewhere outside of himself. “Why, you must be Larry’s sister. I have been concentrating on your coming soon.”
My coming? Soon? “Oh well, my parents said I could visit Larry for a couple of days before I go back to school.” Larry didn’t tell him?
“I know things no other man could know, Debbie. Don’t go back. You are much stronger than you have been led to believe. Stay with us. There may be a holocaust and it is only here in Ukiah that we will be safe.”
“Um. My parents won’t …”
“Don’t use them as an excuse. If you were enlightened enough, committed enough, you would stay with us. Your safety is what concerns me,” the Pastor admonished.
“But I haven’t finished school and I promised my mom and dad …”
“Debbie, you must be firm. You must demand that they allow you to stay here. We need you here in the light … My aura … My power is what people need and want. I have come from the highest plane to gather together those spirits who are ready to continue on to the next level.”
I hoped he couldn’t tell that I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Someday soon, you, too, will understand. You will realize the ultimate truth. You are an ever-growing, always learning, forever living spirit. Yes, each of us is on a different level of development and enlightenment, but through continual reincarnations we become
more refined. If one is committed to the truth, the highest form of giving, then and only then, one will pass on into the next level. The next plane, the place where I have come from to help those like you, who need guidance.” He waved his arms to include all the people in the Redwood Valley church. “I have heard your sorrow, I have seen you in my thoughts, alone, lonely, and far away. I can help you attain your true place in this world. Being loved, fulfilling your dream of happiness. You are so close to stepping up and into the next level of enlightenment. Will you make that commitment?”
I hesitated, biting my cuticle.
“I will wait for you. You are an important link in our organization. This is just the beginning and, with you, we can grow and become more powerful.
“Darling, you have no idea of the depth of your courage, the strength of your resolve,” he continued. “I am what allowed you to come here to visit. It is my prayers that lessened your parents’ tight hold on you. They didn’t want you to come and it is my power that made them acquiesce. My thoughts and determination made them comply with my wishes.”
His firm voice was consoling. It called out to me to trust him. His eyes told me he had waited almost his entire life to meet me. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. I felt weak, swooning in his intense and wholly focused attention.
“I am not an average man. I am here to do great deeds for the needy of this earth. I am here to accomplish godly tasks and it is you who I want to help me.”
I stood immobilized.
“Come and stay with us. I want you and will wait for you. We will all wait for your coming, for your presence with us. You are an untapped source of power, a reservoir of life. Without your spirit among us, we will not be as effective.”
Grabbing hold of my hands, he looked into my eyes. I could feel the heat from his gaze, which burned like white-hot coals. “Debbie, you have wandered upon this earth looking, wanting, and needing answers. I can give you them. For every unknown in your mind, I can give you enlightenment. For your fear, I can give you strength. For your sorrow, I can give you hope and a dream we will attain together.”
I suddenly trusted him completely. I wanted to scream, “Yes, I do, I love you.”
“I am …”
“You need not say anymore. I know your thoughts, and I say to you now, Debbie, you do have the power to say no to your parents. In my presence, you will grow to recognize your abilities, and then, the world beware.”
Does he know I’m only seventeen? Am I that important?
“You are very special to me, Debbie. I want to thank you for coming up here to speak with me. Your presence has given me stamina. I can feel your strength resonate inside of me. I was tired when I finished the sermon, but now I feel I could run around the entire Redwood Valley. You are an incredible source of energy to me. No one has ever told you how wonderful you are. Your parents have always compared you to your older siblings, yet they have failed to see your profound understanding. They have not taken the time to observe the sweetness and light that shine from deep within you.”
I stood very still, afraid that with any movement he might see the real, dirty, bad, and undeserving me.
“Debbie, I know all about you, I feel your hurt. I am saddened by the heavy weight of your loneliness. You have known immense sorrow. You have been misunderstood and forgotten. Your parents have committed a terrible injustice by not taking the time to know you. Instead of connecting with you they sent you far away. How could they be so blind.”
“It really isn’t their fault …”
“Debbie, it’s time to grow away from all the excuses. It is time for you to stand up and say, I, too, want to be counted. Don’t get left behind in the back of the bus. Come and be one of us.” He leaned forward and looked deeply into my face. “Farewell for now, and remember, I am with you always.” With that he kissed my forehead again and walked off the podium.
As he moved away from me, my body felt as though it had grown one size larger. My forehead, where he had kissed me, remained extraordinarily warm. I was convinced that this man truly and unconditionally loved me. I already missed him. I loved being the center of his attention. I could not remember why I was faintly familiar with this wonderful feeling. It was something I yearned for, something I missed, and yet I could not tell from where, with whom, long, long ago, I had experienced it.
It was close to five in the afternoon and the church was now
almost deserted. There were a few people in the kitchen cleaning the platters and talking but all the others had gone.
I heard a rustle from behind me and jumped.
“Debbie, are you okay?” Carolyn walked up to me. I realized that I hadn’t seen her since the divorce, except to wave at her when I entered the church. I felt flustered and hot.
“Oh, you just surprised me. I thought I was alone.”
She was wearing a long earth-colored floral skirt with a long-sleeved blouse. She seemed older than twenty-four, more grown up. I could see why someone might call her angelic. She looked innocent and lovely with her auburn-colored hair pulled softly into a bun. I remembered she had studied French in Bordeaux before she met Larry. She looked like the women I had seen in Paris, when I’d traveled on term break at boarding school, elegant, confident, and pure. I wondered if her youngest sister, Sweet Annie, was also here. I hadn’t seen Annie since I’d stayed with her family before leaving for boarding school.
“Debbie, you should feel very special.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely! Jim never talks to anyone new as long as he did with you.”
“Oh,” I sighed. “He is saying I shouldn’t go back to England.”
“Listen to him. He’s a prophet. He can read minds and can see through time and space.”
“Carolyn, what did he mean about there being a holocaust?”
“He is trying to change the future, but there is a threat of a nuclear war and it is only here that we’ll be safe.”
“When will it happen?”
“We don’t know. Jim is using his powers to keep it from happening, but we cannot know for sure. That is why you should stay. If you are in Europe when it happens, you’ll perish.”
“Carolyn?” I asked.
“Yes?” she responded sweetly.
“While I was waiting in line to speak with Jim, an older woman was explaining to me how wonderful you are. That you take such good care of Jim …”
“Jim and I are very close.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “He has become very dependent on my observations and assistance. He needs me. Jim truly has no time for himself and I try to fill the void. His sermons, as you saw today, last a long time.
So I bring him water, fill his thermos with herbal tea, and as you see, he never leaves the podium, so I bring him a urinal to relieve himself.”
“You mean while he was talking today, he was peeing, too?”
“Several times. You must understand that he is an extremely dedicated man and he gives of himself constantly. While you sat comfortably listening, he was on his feet, educating you and the congregation. We must never forget how hard Jim works in order to enlighten us,” she continued.
“What do you mean?”
“We all come into the fold ignorant. The longer you stay near Jim’s energy and power, the more you will learn and understand. Right now you are like a small child, but as you stay and grow you will advance and become enlightened.” She smiled. “We believe in reincarnation. Jim was Lenin in his last life, as he explained to me when I joined, and I was with him then, too.”
“Wasn’t Lenin a Communist?” I stuttered. I knew that Communists were bad people. One killed President Kennedy when I was in fifth grade.
“He was a socialist and fought for the equality of all the people of Russia.”
“Why’d he become a religious leader?”
“Who, Lenin?” Carolyn looked confused.
“No, Jim. How come Jim came back as a religious leader if he was a revolutionary?”
“Oh, Debbie, in every one of his reincarnations he has fought for justice and the good of humanity. First as Jesus, then as the Bab, and most recently as Lenin. I was Lenin’s confidante and friend, Inessa Armand.”
“But who is the ‘Babe’?”
“No, Debbie, the Bab. His name is Bab ed-Din or Ali Muhammad of Shiraz. He was a Persian religious leader who founded Babism in the nineteenth century. Don’t you see? Jim has always been a fighter, a revolutionary. He has come back here, one last time, to bring people out of religion, into enlightenment. He is trying to teach us that socialism is God.”
I was confused. She seemed disappointed in me for not catching on right away.
“Let me slow down. Jim is trying to open the minds of the people. He can only reach them through religion. As he heals and
teaches, they will grow to understand that religion is an opiate, used to keep the masses down. Only Jim can bring people into the light. Through him we can make it to the next plane.”
“Oh.” I tried to look smart. I decided to ask Mama when I got home if Jesus was a socialist. She’d know.
“Carolyn? Why doesn’t his wife help him pee? She’s a nurse, isn’t she?”
She sighed as if we were treading in uncharted territory. “She is busy during the meetings, preparing for the healings … Anyway, she isn’t that well, in fact she’s often ill and it has been hard on Jim. He is young and vibrant and it is very difficult for him to have such a sickly wife. We don’t put any demands on her.”
Unsure of what that meant, I asked, “How does she get ready for healings?”
“Honey, it’s complicated. When people vomit up growths and cancers it is messy and Marcie is right there to take care of it all.”
“Carolyn?” I felt uncomfortable and wanted to change the subject. “Has your sister Annie ever met Jim?”
“No, but she is coming to visit me next week. I think she should go to nursing school and live at our dorms. It would be good for Jim to have another RN assisting him with the healings, someone close to me.”
Sweet Annie a nurse? I remembered her sitting on my bed in tenth grade when I lived with her family in Davis. She was all the things I wanted to be. She got along with her parents, received good grades, enjoyed school, and was wonderful and kind to everyone. She’d listened to me read my poetry … and now she was going to be a nurse. She was going to take care of Lenin and his healings. I was impressed and jealous. I wondered if Inessa had spoken fluent French, like Carolyn.