by CW Ullman
The night of the memorial service, Charlie had a dream in which Mahatma Ji sat rocking on the back porch at the Denver ashram in the chair Charlie bought him, the one that now sat in Charlie’s bedroom. In his arms, he held Charlie’s baby girl.
“Life is not always easy, but full of surprises, hmm?” Mahatma Ji said. “Lily will be again. She will be her sister’s child. Many surprises, Charlie Ji, many surprises.”
The following Monday, Darla was warmed to see Charlie walk into the surf shop.
“Did you sell the place while I was gone?” Charlie asked. Darla came around the counter to hug him. He said he was okay, but he was not. Even with meditation, the emotional hangover had the same impact as the events on the Enterprise. Charlie was discomfited by the lack of control over anything. He had always believed that if he tried harder, paid more attention, or was better prepared, things would always work out for the best. When things went awry, regardless of fault, Charlie took responsibility for the outcome.
He told Darla about the dream with Mahatma Ji and asked what she thought it meant. She had no idea, except whenever she had a dream with Mahatma Ji, it preceded something good.
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Charlie’s need to control things became an issue a few months later when Cindy became pregnant. He told her he did not want to have the baby at home and she disagreed. That Sunday when they were with Colleen and Chris, Cindy brought it up. Colleen withheld her opinion, but Chris agreed with Cindy and that is when Charlie’s fear exploded.
“Are you crazy? I’m not doing this. I’m not going to sit on the edge of the tub while some midwife fumbles her way through a botched delivery,” Charlie yelled.
“You’re not having the baby, I am,” Cindy countered.
The intensity of the argument froze Chris from saying anything. He had not seen Charlie this angry for a long time.
“We lost a baby last time, Cindy. We could have lost you.” Charlie asked. “I don’t want to be in that position ever again.”
Cindy realized he was afraid and sensing his fear made her pause and speak softer.
“Hey, baby, look at me,” she said. When she relaxed he calmed down. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to lose another baby, and I don’t want to put you through that again. I’m opposed to the hospital because, like you, I want to be in control and when I’m in there I don’t have it. I also have a girlfriend who had a stillbirth in one of the top hospitals in Orange County.”
Though calmer, Charlie was still anxious and said, “I can’t do it, Cindy. You on the bed looking white as a ghost, bleeding, and me not being able to do more than just hold your hand.”
“I hear you. I don’t want to go through the trauma either. Will you let me research and find other alternatives to the hospital? I will go in the hospital if you are not satisfied with any of the choices. Can we at least do that?” Cindy asked.
Charlie looked to his mother for some help and she wanted to give it. However, she knew it had to be their decision. She was hoping Chris would not say anything, so when Charlie looked to Chris, she brushed his leg under the table.
“Mom, that was about as subtle as a freight train,” Charlie said.
“It ultimately comes down to you both. Cindy is the one most at risk, and I know she doesn’t take lightly what happened last time,” Colleen said while looking at Cindy. What she said next was a veiled warning to Cindy, “I know she is going to look into all possibilities, contingencies, and alternatives. I know before she makes her decision, she’s going to weigh all the risks. As I have come to know her, she is not going to make some willy-nilly choice. I am sure it will be as safe as having a child in the hospital.”
What Charlie did not glean, but was abundantly clear to Cindy, was that Colleen did not approve of a home birth and if Cindy was going to go through with this, she had better have it planned out like the Normandy Invasion. Colleen’s surreptitious criticism had found its mark and Cindy realized she did not have to convince Charlie; she had to convince her mother-in-law.
“I’ve made some wonderful strawberry short cake and I know you’re going to love it,” Colleen enthused as she went into the kitchen.
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As it turned out, it was Charlie who ended up selling his mother on the idea of again having a home birth. Cindy found a midwife who worked in conjunction with an obstetrician. The doctor told them that early in Cindy’s labor, he would stop by the house and if he had any concerns about the progress of the delivery, he would have Cindy admitted to the hospital.
After a six hour labor, at four-twenty in the afternoon Cindy birthed Bryce Edward Palmer, a seven pound, twelve ounce boy with jet black hair, which at the age of two turned snow white. After the birth, Colleen and Chris came over to see the new infant. Colleen stood by Cindy who was in bed breast-feeding the baby.
Cindy asked, “How’d we do, Mom?”
Colleen said, “You did very, very well.”
Charlie doted on his new son. Molly was four when Bryce was born and Charlie brought her into the room to look at him.
“Why does he throw up?” Molly asked.
“That’s what you did when you were a baby,” Charlie answered. “All babies do that.”
As often as Charlie could, he brought Bryce to the surf shop and carried him around in a back pack. He introduced Bryce to Tobie who thought he was the greatest doll imaginable. Whenever Charlie would put him down, Tobie would get a hat, sunglasses, shirt, swim goggles, or puka shell necklaces from the surf shop and drape them over Bryce. Then she would get her little chair and sit next to him and pretend it was afternoon tea.
A year and a half after Bryce’s birth, Jordan Christopher Palmer was born. His bald head eventually came to be covered with red hair. Charlie kidded Cindy about her fidelity, wondering aloud if she had been messing around with Rusty.
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CHAPTER VI
In the darkness of the closet, Charlie relived the Baptismal Light, the fire ring, Ronnie’s revelation, Molly’s catastrophic car accident, Sister Marie Celeste’s secret, the scruff desert and a small fire. He was aware of the scent of oil from the gun a foot from his head.
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Knights of the Fire Ring had been inconsistent about their monthly bull sessions because everyone was busy with children. In September 1984, the meeting was called to order and the conversation launched immediately into the 1984 Olympics that had just been held in Los Angeles that summer.
Charlie had brought an Olympic torch with him. His dad was on the board of directors for the Manhattan Beach Chamber of Commerce and they had been notified in 1981 that there would be a torch relay across America. For a thousand dollars, anyone could run one kilometer with the torch. Chris decided to surprise Charlie for his birthday by telling him that he purchased one kilometer for himself and that he would be handing the torch off to Charlie for the second kilometer. In 1981, Charlie thought it was hokey, but when it finally happened in July 1984, with thousands of people lining the route and press helicopters flying over head, he was proud to be running. In front of the Knights, Ronnie took the unlit torch and ran around the fire ring.
“What do you think the Greeks from the Olympics of 776 BC would say?” Charlie said after Ronnie sat down with the torch in his beach chair.
“Bring back the chariot races,” Ronnie said.
“Like the men in the ancient Olympics, let the women run naked,” Curtis said.
“Back then, women weren’t even allowed to watch the games. One legend has it that Hercules started the Olympics and competed against his father, Zeus. Later on he built the first stadium as a tribute to Zeus,” Gaston said.
“In 400 AD, the original Olympics were banned by Theodosius because of religious overtones,” Charlie said.
“This was around the time Christianity was being formed in Nicaea, and the actual beginning of the Catholic Church,” Gaston said.
“Professor, I thought Christianity started in year one with Jesus,” Ronnie said.
> “No, it actually started at the Nicaea Council in Turkey in 325 AD. Constantine, the Roman Emperor at the time, had become a Christian adherent and wanted to bring all the bishops from the east and the west together to define not who Jesus was, but what Jesus was. One of the major disagreements at the time was about the eternity of Jesus. Was he eternal like God or was he created when the man was born? The “eternal” boys won and the opposition was banished. Their beliefs were considered heresy and many of their writings were burned, as were some of them.”
Everyone took a sly look at Carlos who was a practicing Catholic.
“Where do I find out more about this? I’ve been telling my mother Catholicism doesn’t make sense, but she doesn’t want to hear it,” Carlos said.
“I gave up on Catholicism because Mrs. Norton was excluded from heaven,” Charlie remembered. He then told them his story from first grade catechism.
“For me, it’s reward or punishment after death. God is omnipresent, right?” Carlos said. “So, if he’s omnipresent, God’s in California and he’s also in New York, but he’s also in yesterday and tomorrow. If he’s in the past and in the future, why does he let miserable bastards like Ronnie live,” Carlos said. Everyone laughed.
“God’s at your death while he’s at your birth; all in the same instant. It’s like your life is a strip of film and you lay the first frame, the day you’re born over the last frame, the day you die. So, why would God still make you, knowing in advance of your birth that you are one of the ones who rejects his son as your savior?” Carlos said.
“You’ve been burning some brain cells, Carlos,” Gaston said. “Are you saying you don’t believe in the Big Kahuna?”
“No, I believe in God, I just think religions have fucked it up. What’s in it for Him to create people when He already knows they’re going to burn forever?”
“The impact of learning anything in youth leaves the deepest impression. If you want to know how powerful it is, watch adults blow out the candles on their birthday cake,” Gaston said.
“Because they make a wish?” Carlos said.
“That’s the conscious part, the subconscious part is they always try to do it in one breath,” Gaston said.
“I see man’s fingerprints all over the “inerrant” Word of God,” Charlie said with air quotes. “On one hand I envy the people who have an unquestionable faith in it all, like your mom and my mom. I know there’s God because I have felt it.”
Carlos asked, “How?”
“It happened to me twice. Once when I first learned to meditate, I had this overwhelming feeling of the presence of something bigger and better,” Charlie continued, “and once at a Christian baptism.”
“I want to hear that one,” Carlos said.
“Cindy’s cousin invited our whole family to her daughter’s baptism in the Anderson’s backyard pool one Sunday. My internal conversation was a complete put- down of the whole affair. I was acting like a thirteen year old girl who wanted to be somewhere else,” Charlie admitted, which got a cheer from the boys.
“However, it dawned on me that I should be supportive of these people and be open to their experience. Reverend Duke was praying with this girl in the pool; he put his hand on her forehead and then tipped her back. Then BAM; all at once, I felt this “thing.” It actually felt like I’d been hit or something. I looked over at Cindy, thinking she had pushed me, and I saw she had brightness about her. I then looked at the rest of the people in the yard and they were edged in this same light and then I started bawling.”
“What do you think it was?” Carlos asked.
“I’ve never told anyone this and I don’t want to get any bullshit from you guys,” Charlie offered, “but I think it was the Holy Ghost. I know what this sounds like and I know it’s subjective and I’m okay with that.”
“Acid flashback?” Curtis asked.
“No, I’ve had those and they’re different. Flashbacks happened when I was stressed or really hot - like I’m in a steam bath; this was on a cool December day. I do know this – I was in the presence of God and it was pretty fucking cool.”
“What do you think about life after death?” Carlos asked.
“Why? Why does He want us hanging out with Him for eternity?” Charlie said.
“If my lesbian-ex is there, isn’t that the definition of hell?” Ronnie asked.
“I think people who believe in an afterlife need it to be so. We could be wrong and when it’s all said and done, we might be in hell watching Ronnie doing laps with Lucifer while holding the Olympic torch,” Charlie said.
“Nice no answer,” Gaston said. “I know I can’t see my own blind spot and that’s why I believe in God, even though I can’t support the belief logically. If a supreme logic superscedes your logic, you couldn’t deduce logically it exists. But, like Charlie said, you can feel its presence. I know one thing, religion throughout history has done more good collectively and individually.”
“What about all the religious wars?” Carlos asked.
“Often those wars were just land grabs masquerading as religious conflicts. As Voltaire said, ‘Si Dieu n'existait pas, il faudrait l'inventer’, ‘if God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him,’” Gaston said. “As far as an afterlife, it’s interesting that there are completely different views between Islam and Christianity. Christianity believes you hang out with God and the angels, and Islam teaches all requests are granted. One Iman I talked to said if you wish to have sex all day, you have sex all day.”
“My name is Ahmed Yamaguchi,” Ronnie said, which got a big laugh.
Changing the subject Curtis asked, “Why don’t we ever bring Rusty out here? Doesn’t he want to come?”
“I have suggested it and so has Darla, but he won’t come,” Charlie said. “I don’t know why.”
“Do you think he blames us for the Enterprise deal?” Gaston asked.
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Gaston’s suggestion fell like a brick in the middle of the conversation. Charlie had never asked Rusty about that day on the Enterprise, but he wanted to know what Rusty thought, so one day he decided to ask Darla what she knew.
“He’s never brought it up to me. Do I think he’s pissed at you guys? I don’t know. He appears most at ease when he’s shaping the boards. He goes into a kind of trance when he’s doing the eyes. Once, I called to him and he didn’t respond. Then, I stood next to him and called his name; it was as though I wasn’t even there,” Darla said.
“What do you think’ll happen if I talk to him about that day?” Charlie asked.
“That’s a sleeping dog I’d let lie. My biggest fear is that you’ll trigger some manic episode and he’ll go off if you’re poking around in there; who knows what you’re going to find?” Darla said. “If you can get him to come with you guys, you’ve got to look out for a couple of things: one, keep an eye out for Asian women, and secondly, I wouldn’t bring up the Enterprise,” Darla suggested.
Charlie finally persuaded Rusty to come with him to the fire ring. They arrived first, and when the other guys arrived, they welcomed Rusty. Ronnie showed up last and was already drunk. He came over to Rusty, tussled his hair, and asked him how he was doing; Rusty did not respond. Tension and awkwardness were in the air when Ronnie again asked him how he was doing, and again Rusty said nothing.
Gaston sensing the tension, asked the customary, “What would they say now?” question, but before he could finish, Ronnie finished it for him.
‘What would they say now from eight years ago,” Ronnie asked. Eight years ago was the Enterprise incident.
“We’ve come a long way” Charlie said, thinking that the good idea to bring Rusty, was now getting hijacked by Ronnie.
“Hey, Rusty, Que paso?” Ronnie asked, then got up and went over to Rusty. “Hey, I’m talking to you, man. This is Ronnie, I’ve known you since grammar school.”
“Ronnie, take you chubby ass over to your chair and relax,” Curtis said.
“Hey, I’m talking to m
y friend. I’ve known him longer than you guys. We’re just getting caught up on old times.” Ronnie asked, “There’s no problem is there, Rusty? You in there, buddy?”
Then he wagged his fingers in front of Rusty’s face and tussled his hair again. Rusty pulled his head back and grabbed Ronnie’s wrist and just looked at him.
“If you don’t want to talk to me, just say so. You don’t have to grab my wrist, Rusty,” Ronnie said, becoming more agitated.
Curtis got up to come over to Ronnie to bring him back to his chair and Ronnie pushed him backwards, knocking Curtis to the sand.
“Hey, why don’t you mind your own fucking business?” He was snapping his fingers in front of Rusty’s face, “Rusty, you gonna talk to me or what?”
Charlie looked over at Carlos and they got up and circled Ronnie.
“Ronnie, I don’t know what’s got in your craw, but you need to leave him alone,” Charlie said.
Carlos put his hand on Ronnie’s shoulder and Ronnie flung it off. Carlos grabbed him from behind and threw him in the sand. “You’re drunk and you’re making an asshole out of yourself.”
“Fuck that,” Ronnie said, “Why does he get to check out? Hey, Rusty, fuck you. I know you can hear me, you little bitch, wake the fuck up.”
Charlie standing over Ronnie, “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, there’s nothing wrong with me. He’s the veg, get him to talk. Hey, Rusty, say something,” Ronnie yelled.
Rusty turned and looked at Ronnie, but did not say anything.
Ronnie went ballistic and shouted, “Don’t look at me like that. Goddam you; don’t do that!”
“You know he looks at everybody like that,” Charlie said. Charlie wondered if Ronnie’s anger at Rusty was provoked by the fact that their relationship went back the furthest.
