by Alex Marcoux
Jessie stood and extended her hands palm down. She knew she was expected to perform the due guard when entering and leaving. Abruptly, she dropped her left hand to her side, and mechanically performed the gestures again.
Minutes later Jessie was in the Mustang. She exhaled. My God, It worked. I’m a Master Mason. She turned the ignition key, and proceeded for the throughway. Jessie was excited and wanted to share the experience with someone. She removed her phone from the suit-jacket pocket and punched in a number.
“Hello,” Rachel answered.
“It worked,” Jessie said. “I’m a Mason.”
“Congratulations. They didn’t suspect?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Be careful.”
* * *
Considering her next move, Jessie sipped her coffee at the kitchen table. She stared at the business card that Stonewall had given her the previous night. She flipped it repeatedly between her fingers. Then, she moved to the wall and lifted the phone handset. Jessie decided to use the cabin phone whenever she impersonated Brennan, reserving her cell phone for her life as Jessie.
She hit “0” on the handset and waited for the operator to answer. “Hello, can you tell me the number I’m calling from?”
Moments later she punched in the numbers from the card on the phone. She left a voice mail. “Hello, this is Brennan Keller. Gary Stonewall suggested that I call; my phone number is…”
Fifteen minutes later, the cabin’s phone rang. Jessie cleared her throat. “Hello.”
“Hi, is this Brennan Keller?” a woman asked.
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Cindy Palmer, I’m Clark Coburn’s administrative assistant, from The Empire. He asked that I call to set up an interview Monday morning.”
An interview? I didn’t leave a message why I had called. “What time is convenient for Mr. Coburn?”
“Ten o’clock.”
* * *
The Empire’s headquarters was in Yonkers, off the Deagan Expressway. The contemporary office building reflected sunlight from its mirror like windows. The reflective siding reminded Jessie of mirrored sunglasses—from the inside you could people-watch without them knowing it.
It was close to ten o’clock when Brennan entered the lobby. The receptionist handed him a visitor’s pass and suggested that he wait for Mr. Coburn’s assistant.
Within minutes, a pretty blonde woman greeted him. “Brennan Keller? I’m Cindy Palmer,” she shook his hand and smiled flirtatiously, batting her long eyelashes. “Mr. Coburn asked me to escort you to his office.”
Jessie resisted smiling, fearing it would reveal her femininity. She forced her eyes away from Cindy’s to a familiar checkered floor pattern. Where have I seen a checkered floor recently? Then she remembered it was at the Blue Lodge.
Cindy led Brennan into an elevator, and when the doors parted they were at the heart of a newsroom. Dozens of tiny cubicles centered the area while private offices lined the perimeter of the building. People hustled about, phones rang, and printers spewed out paper. Jessie wondered how people could work in such a noisy setting.
Brennan followed Cindy, circumventing the activity, to a corner office door. She turned to Brennan. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Brennan,” she smiled.
“Likewise.”
She knocked gently, and opened the door when a muffled voice from inside welcomed her. A distinguished looking man with gray hair sat behind his desk. He stood as Brennan entered, and Cindy quickly closed the door.
Jessie approached the man and extended her hand. As she shook his hand, his grip quickly changed to the pass-grip of a Master Mason, and Jessie’s grasp conformed accordingly.
Clark Coburn’s expressionless eyes were fixed on Brennan’s. Jessie finally broke the silence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Coburn.”
“Call me Clark.” He released Brennan’s hand, and gestured at a chair. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you for this opportunity to visit with you.” Jessie crossed her legs, but soon realized what she had done and shifted in her seat.
“I like your work,” Clark said unexpectedly. “I particularly like the last few articles. I understand you’re looking for employment in the metro area.”
“That’s correct.”
“We just happen to have a reporter position available. You would need to relocate to the metro area. Commuting from upstate wouldn’t be practical. We offer competitive salaries and benefits.” Clark scribbled on a piece of paper, folded it, and passed it to Brennan.
Jessie opened the paper and read the figure. She knew it was more than competitive. “That’s a very generous offer.”
“We take care of our kind at The Empire,” For the first time, Clark smiled.
“Do you need anything from me?”
“If the terms are agreeable, just let Cindy know your start date.”
* * *
Apparently, Clark Coburn had checked out Brennan Keller’s professional background after Gary Stonewall had called about his visit. Nobody ever questioned his sexuality, and everything fell into place. Brennan was welcomed at the White Plains Blue Lodge, and now he had a position with The Empire, which connected him to other Freemasons. He rented an apartment in Hartsdale, offering an easy commute to The Empire, the Blue Lodge, and New York City.
Chapter Twelve
It was going on 7:30 p.m. and Jessie was returning from work. With two handfuls of shopping bags, she made her way into the garden apartment. Quickly, she emptied the bags and put the groceries away. She was exhausted, and couldn’t wait to get out of Brennan’s attire. She methodically pulled the blinds in every room, ending in her bedroom.
In a flash, she stripped. First the suit jacket, tie, dress shirt and pants came off. Systematically she removed the padded bodysuit, padded insert, and then unwound the Ace bandage from around her chest. She cupped her now sore breasts in her hands, trying to relieve the discomfort. Then she slipped on a T-shirt and sweatpants.
At the mirror she removed her contacts, then peeled off the goatee and eyebrows. Where the facial hair attached, her skin was blotchy. Jessie studied the red blemishes. Am I going to be able to do this? she wondered.
A small bedroom was set up as an office. She turned on the computer. Each evening she looked forward to seeing if Taylor had emailed her. The couple had fallen into a routine of a weekly telephone call and emailing each other a few times a week. As Jessie waited for the computer to come to life, a jingle sounded from the bedroom. It was her new cell phone, the one she used as Brennan Keller, but by the time she found it in the suit jacket pocket it had gone to voicemail. She accessed the system and listened.
“Hello, Brennan, this is Gary Stonewall. There’s a Master Mason initiation tomorrow night at seven o’clock. We need a Wayfaring Man for the reenactment of Hiram Abiff. You’d only have a couple lines. Call me and let me know if you can do it.”
“Can I do it?” Jessie asked herself after listening to the message. “Where did I put the reenactment?” She moved to the small filing cabinet where she retrieved a script she had found on the Internet. She skimmed through it. “I can do this,” she tried to convince herself. Jessie called the Lodge. “Is the Worshipful Master in?” she asked in her normal voice. The call was transferred.
A couple minutes later, Stonewall sounded baffled. “Sally?”
Jessie froze. She realized that she had called in her normal voice. Shit!
“Sally, are you there?”
Jessie spoke in Brennan’s low tone. “This is Keller.”
“Keller? Mathew told me a woman was on the line…I assumed it was my wife.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. You can count me in tomorrow night.”
She bit her lip as she hung up the phone. “I have to be more careful.”
* * *
Jessie arrived at the Lodge that evening just before seven o’clock. As she signed in at the reception desk, she noticed a compass and square on the wall. Both po
ints of the compass were above the square, indicating that the Lodge was open only to Master Masons. Jessie saluted Stonewall with the due guard and sign of the Master Mason, as he approached.
“Keller, let me introduce you to the others before we begin. Follow me!”
Stonewall led Brennan downstairs to a sitting area where eight men mingled. Here, Brennan was introduced but the names became a blur to her. Most of them were called by a title, like Worshipful Master, Senior and Junior Deacon, Senior and Junior Warden. Opposite the sitting area, long, black, hooded robes hung from locker-like compartments. The men moved into the dressing area where they stripped away their apparel, down to their underwear.
Jessie averted her eyes from the partially naked men. She removed her suit jacket and tie, hung them from a hook, and slipped on the hooded robe.
“Keller, you’re going to be hot!”
Jessie turned toward the voice. The Junior Warden stood wearing only flamboyant boxers. He slipped a robe over his head concealing his hairy chest and large belly.
“I’ll be fine,” Brennan responded.
Nine men and Jessie moved into the dim Lodge room. Tonight, only scattered candles lighted the area. The Worshipful Master, Senior Warden, Junior Warden, Chaplain, Junior Deacon, and Senior Deacon took their places near the altar, while the others moved to the side.
There was a cyclic opening ceremony where passwords were requested to ensure that only Master Masons were present. Then duties of the primary participants were identified. The chaplain prayed to the Great Architect of the Universe, and they all finished with the Pledge of Allegiance.
The opening was quite repetitive and monotonous. Jessie was bored. Uncomfortably warm beneath the heavy robe, she had difficulties keeping her eyes open, and found herself nodding off. Then the initiation began, and Stonewall called upon everyone to participate.
“How should a brother be prepared for the Third Degree of Freemasonry?” Stonewall asked the brothers.
“By being divested of metallic substances,” the brothers chanted. “Neither naked nor clothed, barefoot, both knees and breasts bare, hood winked, and with a cable-tow three times around the body, clothed as a Fellow Craft.”
Jessie mumbled lightly, trying to appear as if she knew what she was doing. She almost gasped though, when the candidate for initiation appeared in the doorway. He wore pajama-like bottoms that were rolled up above the knees. He was barefoot, and naked from the waist up, with a blue rope wrapped around his body. Blindfolded, he was directed to the center of the room by the Junior Warden.
Jessie was far from bored now. Panic gripped her. She realized that a woman wouldn’t make it through this ceremony. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was fearful of being discovered or the unknown of the ceremony, or perhaps both.
The Senior Deacon approached the candidate. “Brother Henry, when first you entered a Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons, you were received on the point of a sharp instrument piercing your naked left breast. On your second entrance, you were received on the angle of a square applied to your naked right breast.
“I am now commanded to receive you on the extreme points of the compasses, extending from your naked right to your naked left breast,” the Senior Deacon held the compass high for all to see the sharp points. “Which is to teach you that as within the breast are contained the most vital parts of man, so between the extreme points of the compasses are contained the most valuable tenets of Freemasonry, which are Friendship, Morality, and Brotherly Love.” He abruptly stuck the sharp points into the blindfolded man’s chest.
The candidate winced, and blood trickled down his chest.
Jessie couldn’t believe that he actually plunged the points into the man’s chest!
The ceremony continued with the Chaplain praying. Then the candidate was bestowed the Master Mason password and the Senior Deacon helped him get in position to take the oath. He knelt on bare knees, his body erect. His legs awkwardly formed the shape of a square, while his hands lay on top of the square and compass, and beneath that was the Bible.
The candidate began his oath. “To all of which I do solemnly and sincerely promise and swear, without any hesitation…”
Jessie was lost in thought. She couldn’t comprehend how Steve was involved in this group. Did she even know her brother? She wondered where this journey would end, and then the candidate’s voice brought her back.
“Binding myself under no less a penalty than that of having my body severed in twain, my bowels taken thence, and with my body burned to ashes, and the ashes thereof scattered to the four winds of Heaven.”
It hit her. Only then Jessie grasped the sign of the Master Mason. When she ran her thumb across her abdomen, she was gesturing having her body severed in two.
After the candidate’s lengthy blood oath, in which he promised not to reveal the secrets of Freemasonry, he kissed the Bible. Now restrained by the oath, the Senior Deacon removed the blue rope from his waist. The participants, including Jessie, encircled him.
“Brother Henry,” Stonewall began. “In your present situation, what do you most desire?”
To get the hell out of here, Jessie thought.
“Further light in Masonry,” the candidate said.
“Let the Brother be brought to light.”
Simultaneously, the Senior Deacon yanked off the hoodwink, the overhead lights blinded Henry, and the participants surrounding him clapped in unison. Jessie quickly adapted to the rhythm and joined in the crescendo.
Henry was shown the sign, due guard, and the pass-grip. Then the Senior Warden instructed him how to wear his apron. “My Brother, you have already been informed that at the building of King Solomon’s Temple, the different bands of workmen were distinguished by the manner in which they wore their aprons. Master Masons wore theirs turned down in the form of a square to designate them as Master Masons or overseers of the work.”
After his instructions, the candidate left the Lodge room with the Junior Warden. When he returned, Henry was dressed in street clothes with his apron fitted properly and a plumb emblem hung around his neck. Unaware of things to come, he appeared calm now, less nervous, and smiling. But that would quickly change.
The participants, including Jessie, took their places around Henry. Henry was asked to remove his possessions from his pockets, and he was once again blindfolded.
“My Brother,” the Senor Deacon instructed, “heretofore you have represented a candidate in search of Light, now you represent a character, none less a personage than our Grand Master Hiram Abiff, Grand Architect at the building of King Solomon’s Temple.
Everyone participated in the enactment. Here, Henry played Hiram Abiff, architect of King Solomon’s temple, but the Senior Deacon spoke the script of the character. The man was led around the Lodge room, blindfolded. He stumbled and struggled to understand the meaning of the words. In the legend, Hiram Abiff had promised to reveal the mysteries of the Master Mason to the workers when the temple was completed. In the script, three Masons portraying Ruffians approached Henry, and demanded that he reveal the secret word of the Master Mason.
The Junior Warden played the first Ruffian. He grabbed Henry roughly by his collar and shook him “…I therefore demand of you the secrets of a Master Mason.”
The Senior Deacon spoke for Henry. “Wait until the temple is finished and then you will have the secrets of a Master Mason.”
The Junior Warden asked three times for the secret word. Each time, the Senior Deacon refused, and each time the Junior Warden became more violent. After the Senior Deacon declined the third time, the Junior Warden picked up a twenty-four-inch rod and struck Henry across the throat.
Jessie’s heart beat wildly. She never expected the reenactment to include physical violence. Henry fell to the ground clinging to his throat. The Senior Deacon picked him up to face the second Ruffian.
The second Ruffian asked him the same question, three times. And each time, the Senior Deacon refused to cooperate and more
cruelty was focused on Henry. The second Ruffian concluded with striking Henry’s chest with a square. He stumbled, but the Senior Deacon kept him on his feet.
The last Ruffian repeated the questions. Henry fell blindly to the floor after the Ruffian slapped him. The Senior Deacon picked Henry up again, but panic had gripped him. The man was visibly distressed, fearful and in pain.
Other steward members opened a large canvas behind him. What the hell are they doing? Jessie wondered.
The Ruffian grabbed Henry violently. From where Jessie stood, she saw the man’s saliva spray upon Henry’s face as he yelled at him. “Grand Master Hiram, I for the third and last time demand of you the secrets of a Master Mason.”
Fearing for his life, light sobbing escaped from Henry’s lips and he cowered and held his arms out to protect himself.
The Senior Deacon spoke for Henry. “And I, for the third time, refuse you.”
The Ruffian picked up a setting maul and held it up for all to see, except Henry. “If you will not give me the secret word of a Master Mason, then die.” Just as he said the word die the third Ruffian pounded the maul into Henry’s forehead. Henry fell unconscious into the canvas.
Jessie was shocked. Her world was spinning and nausea hit. Without thinking she stepped out of place to see Henry. In that moment his hand moved to his forehead, and he moaned. He was alive. But just then, Jessie realized everyone was staring at her. She took a step back and composed herself.
The rest of the enactment was a blur. Lost in her own thoughts, Jessie almost missed her cue to say the three lines as the Wayfaring man. After the performance, there was a repetitive lecture on Masonic symbols. Hours after the initiation began, it ended with Henry as the newest member of the Master Masons, and everyone crowded around him to congratulate him.
* * *
After the ceremony Jessie fled to the lounge where she removed her robe. As an excuse for her baffling behavior, she mentioned how hot she was under the robe. She was actually ill; all she wanted to do was get out of the Lodge, but as she passed through the lobby she ran into Gary Stonewall.
