The storm hit on Sunday, figuratively and literally. We’d just checked out of the hotel at noon and were driving back to Balen when thunder ripped the sky and it began to rain so hard I had to struggle to keep the car on the road. A stream formed on our right, in the overflowing gutter. On top of that Janet texted me. Her note said it was an emergency; that I had to call her immediately. I pulled off at the next exit.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Janet when she answered. I had her on speakerphone so Aja could hear. I figured it was probably about her.
“We need to talk. But first—watch,” Janet said, before linking us with a video on YouTube. It showed a nurse being interviewed by Casey Morall. I assumed we were in for a rerun of what had happened with Mike. Except this nurse sat hidden in the dark and her voice had been distorted so she couldn’t be easily identified.
Worse, much worse, this time Casey had X-rays of Lisa Alastair’s head. MRIs of Lisa’s brain. CAT scans. The unidentified nurse provided most of the vocal commentary while the images flashed on the screen. The theme of the video was simple—a running stream of images of Lisa’s tumor before and after Aja’s healing.
When Lisa’s father had told me his daughter had a brain tumor, I had never imagined it was the size of a golf ball. How could such a thing fit inside the head of such a small girl? But there it was in black and white.
It was still there two days after Lisa’s father spoke to Aja and was told his daughter would be fine. Except by then the tumor had shrunk to the size of a walnut. A week later it was the size of a pea. Finally, two days ago, the nurse reported it had vanished altogether.
At the end of the visual display and the nurse’s commentary, Casey wisely kept her remarks brief. Why talk when her pictures were worth a million words? Indeed, studying the number on the bottom of my cell screen, I could see they were worth over twelve million hits on YouTube.
And it was still early.
Yet Casey did take time to remind viewers of the mystery surrounding Mike Garcia’s healing, and the healing of the soldier at the Roadhouse. For the first time, Casey stated that Aja was from Selva, Brazil, where she was well-known as the Pequena Maga, the “Little Magician.” Casey closed her presentation by showing Lisa playing in the front yard of her house with other kids her age.
Janet’s voice came back on my cell. “It was posted at four in the morning our time. I just found out about it now. We’re lucky Casey wasn’t able to interview any doctors, and the nurse refused to give her name. But it’s weird the nurse was able to get hold of so many X-rays and pass them on to Casey. Medical records are supposed to be confidential.” Janet paused. “Unless Mr. Alastair broke his word and just gave Casey the pictures.”
I had a different take on the situation. “It’s no surprise Lisa’s parents would take Lisa to be examined after Aja worked on her. Especially since she seemed so much better. I’d do it if I was her dad. But I don’t think Mr. Alastair broke his word. He seemed like an honest man and you remember how grateful he was to Aja—to all of us.”
“Then where did the MRIs and CAT scans come from?” Janet asked.
“Money,” I said. “Casey’s father’s been supporting his daughter’s investigation of Aja from the start. I bet the nurse we heard on the video stole the images and was paid a pretty penny for them.”
Janet was interested. “That could be a good thing. The whole video could be illegal, an invasion of privacy. YouTube might be forced to take it down.”
“That won’t help,” I said. “You can bet a million people have already made copies of it by now. It will keep circulating. But what might help are the holes in Casey’s story. It’s sloppy reporting at best. She doesn’t identify the nurse. She doesn’t identify the hospital where the X-rays were taken. She doesn’t even say what Aja did when she worked on Lisa.”
“Because Aja never met her!” Janet cried.
“That’s right. We need to get that fact out there.”
“No,” Aja interrupted. I’d almost forgotten she was listening.
I looked at her. “This could be the beginning of the end. If this video doesn’t get discredited, immediately, you might never have a minute’s peace for the rest of your life.”
Aja didn’t respond right away. Janet took it as a sign she was hiding something. “Do you want the publicity?” Janet asked, speaking to Aja.
Aja shrugged. “All this is inevitable. If Casey Morall didn’t post these videos, someone else would have weeks from now.”
“This video will alert the national media,” Janet warned. “Are you ready for that?”
Aja acted indifferent. “I’d prefer to be left alone. I’m used to solitude. But moving to America—I knew crowds would come. There’s no point fighting it.”
I spoke to Janet. “I take it you still don’t believe in miracles? That Aja can heal people?”
Janet took a long time to answer. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
I could tell by her tone she was shaken up.
“Let me get back to you later,” I told Janet.
We exchanged good-byes and I sat with Aja for a few minutes while the rain pelted the roof of the Mercedes. The muddy water on the road was up to our hubcaps. If the downpour continued we’d flood the interior of an eighty-thousand-dollar car. But I was no more worried about that than I was worried about Aja’s mental health. A girl who could erase a brain tumor was not suffering from a multiple personality disorder.
“So you knew this would happen?” I said.
“Yes,” Aja said.
“When I first spoke to you—you knew then?”
“Yes.”
“You should have warned me.”
Aja smiled. “You still would have chased after me.”
“Is that the little you or the big you talking?”
She leaned over and kissed me and reassured me in her usual way. “It will be okay, Fred,” she said.
• • •
At six that evening, three hours after I’d dropped Aja at her house, I broke my vow to let Aja be Aja and leave her unprotected. At dinnertime what most people call the “real media” arrived in Elder. A reporter and film crew out of Rapid City appeared first. The reporter wasn’t Casey Morall. Her name was Dana Sharone and everyone knew her. She was our capital’s biggest and brightest face when it came to TV news.
It didn’t take long before Dana was knocking on Aja’s door. Bart answered and lied and said Aja wasn’t at home and he didn’t know where she was. I got the news from Bart, who called while the reporter was still standing on the porch. It was the first time he had ever called me.
“I think we got a problem,” Bart said.
“I know you do. Is Aja there with you?”
“Yes. She’s with your friend Janet.”
“What’s Janet doing there?”
“They’re talking in Aja’s room.”
“Can I speak to Aja please?” I said.
“She asked that I leave them alone.”
“But this is important. We should all be on the phone together.”
“Her talk with Janet must be important. Aja seldom asks not to be disturbed. But when she does, it’s best to leave her alone.”
This was sounding weirder every minute.
“All right, let’s talk about these reporters,” I said. “Everyone in South Dakota knows Dana Sharone. She’s the most aggressive reporter in the state. She’s not going to leave you alone. She’ll keep knocking on your door until you answer or else someone forces her off your property. You’ve got to hire private security.”
“Do you think that is absolutely necessary?” Bart asked.
“Yes. I thought this might happen. I’ve been on the Internet for the last two hours researching South Dakota security firms. There’s one that comes highly recommended. They’re expensive but they have tons of positive reviews. The people who recommend them say they can be mean but that’s what you need right now. Dana Sharone is standing on your porch but I
promise you she’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Is this firm local?” Bart asked.
“Sort of. Their name is Max and Mercer and their main office is located in Aberdeen. That’s three hours away. Call them as soon as we hang up. They have a twenty-four-hour line. Stress how much you and Aja are worth and explain how large a property you have. That will tell them how many of their people they need to send out.”
Bart was in the mood to listen. I could hear someone knocking on his door in the background. “Do you have their number?” he asked.
“Yes. Let me give it to you,” I said.
After a quick shower, I drove out to Aja’s house in her Mercedes. She had loaned it to me. Well, actually she’d told me to keep it. Going from a ten-speed bike to a car that was worth more than half the homes in Elder took some getting used to. To be blunt, it felt kind of weird to drive. I kept expecting a cop to pull me over.
I know I should have been more excited about her inheritance but I wasn’t. And it was not because I feared she’d moved into a higher social sphere and that I’d lose her because of the money. Aja cared about her millions as much as Mike cared about the AA meetings he’d been ordered by the court to attend.
By the time I arrived a van from a TV station out of Boise, Idaho, had joined the fray. It was raining hard but they didn’t mind. The reporters and their crews were setting up their cameras as if they owned the place. They tried to interview me on the way to the door but I had brought a large, empty pizza box with me and acted like I was making a delivery. Bart answered when I rang and I slipped inside.
Bart told me the security firm already had people on the way. But I was surprised to discover Janet had already left.
“Where’d she go?” I asked.
“Home, I think,” Bart said.
“New York,” Aja said, entering the room. She had just taken a bath. She took two or three a day. She said she loved to lie on her back and float on the warm water. She was wearing a blue bathrobe and nothing else. Her hair was soaked. From experience I knew she was never in a hurry to dry it.
“Very funny.” I assumed she was joking. “What were you and Janet talking about?”
“I can’t say,” Aja said.
Odd, I thought. Janet wouldn’t have gone to Aja for counseling. It wasn’t like her.
“How many people are Max and Mercer sending?” I asked.
“Three teams of four,” Bart said. “They said twelve people would be the minimum they’d need to secure a property this size.” He added, “I told them they could sleep here if they want.”
“You’re assuming Elder’s local hotels and motels are going to be booked?” I asked.
Bart shook his head. “I’ve seen the same videos you have.”
“How do you feel about them?” I asked.
Bart glanced at Aja, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch. “I can’t say I’m happy about it,” he said.
“Hopefully this will blow over soon,” I said. “Usually only top-level celebrities stay in the news more than a week.”
Bart sagged wearily into a chair. I noticed the streak of gray in his curly black hair had grown. “We should be so lucky,” he said.
The security personnel arrived two hours later. By then there were five TV stations jammed together in the mansion’s driveway, all wanting to interview Aja.
Max himself had driven out from Aberdeen. He was more imposing than the photo his firm had posted on their website. Six five, three hundred and fifty pounds; he wore a bulging black leather sports coat that did a poor job of hiding the two guns he carried, never mind his knives. His black eyes matched his intimidating stare. But ironically, when he smiled, he suddenly looked as harmless as a teddy bear.
Then again, I only saw him smile once.
He knew his business. Bart asked Max to clear the property and fifteen grumbling minutes later the reporters and their crews were all encamped at the junction of the driveway and the road that led back to Elder. It was clear they weren’t leaving anytime soon. I wondered how that worked in real life in a nasty storm. I mean, what if Aja didn’t come out for a week?
But Aja said that wasn’t a consideration. She was going to school tomorrow. I tried to talk her out of it.
“I think it would be a good idea to remain out of sight for a few days,” I said.
“I agree,” Bart said.
“No,” Aja said. “If necessary the guards can follow me to school. But I’m going.”
“The guards won’t be allowed on campus,” I said.
“They can keep the reporters off the campus,” Aja replied.
“Principal Levitt isn’t going to like all this commotion,” I warned.
Aja didn’t care; the topic simply didn’t interest her. She asked if I wanted to watch a movie on TV. I knew I should be at home, working on my demo. But it was hard to leave her surrounded by a growing horde.
“Why not?” I said.
I spent the night. Several times before going to bed I tried calling Janet. I still didn’t believe Aja had been serious. Janet wasn’t answering, though, which was unusual for her. I tried her cell and her home number. The latter should have at least got me Bo but he wasn’t picking up either. I asked Aja if Janet had said anything before leaving and she told me to ask Janet.
What the hell, I thought.
• • •
Monday morning I entered the twilight zone. It started when I drove Aja past a dozen reporters and their cameramen. They shouted out a whole list of questions as we cruised by. “Can you heal people, Aja?” “Are you a virgin?” “What’s the source of your power?” “Are you a Christian?” “Is your boyfriend a Satanist?” I have to admit I wanted to stop and answer the last question. I’m sure I would have come up with something that would have gotten me on the evening news.
The media—they didn’t care that we ignored them at the end of the driveway. The bigger half was waiting for us in the school parking lot. It was here Max and his team briefly lost control of the situation. I shouldn’t have blamed Max, he didn’t have enough men, but I yelled at him anyway. It scared the shit out of me when I saw the crush surround Aja and pin her against a fence.
I’d dropped her off beside a small flight of concrete stairs that led onto the campus, thinking that would give her a head start. But Aja, as usual, never in a hurry, never worried, let the reporters catch her at the fence. At that point there was nothing for her to do but lower her head and hide beneath her umbrella and wait for Max and his people to rescue her.
The reporters surrounded her on all sides. The onslaught of their questions matched the stormy sky; it was like thunder. But then something unexpected happened. Perhaps the Big Person flexed its power. I saw the sea suddenly part—the crowd of reporters abruptly backed off—and Aja was allowed to continue on her way. After parking the car, I yelled at Max to block all entrances to the campus.
My demand was silly and I knew it. Elder High was old. It had been built in the decades before city councils even dreamed of putting tall fences around schools. The truth was anyone could get on campus from almost any direction. To his credit, Max didn’t use that as an excuse. He shouted at the reporters to stay back and caught up with Aja and escorted her to her locker. Then he called for reinforcements—that meant more security guards—but before they could arrive the police showed up.
It seemed that somewhere during the night Max had read a copy of Elder’s city bylaws and discovered that no adults—outside of faculty and hired staff—were allowed on campus when school was in session. That included Max himself but he ignored that point until the cops arrived. By then Aja was sitting safely in her first-period class—chemistry.
What a morning, I thought.
I headed for my own first period. Along the way I tried calling Janet. I didn’t get her but Bo finally picked up and told me that Aja had not been joking. Janet was in New York City visiting her mother and stepfather. Just like that she’d flown to the East Coast without tellin
g me. I asked Bo why she’d left so unexpectedly and he said he didn’t know. But going by the tension in his voice I wondered if he was lying.
By second period Max had a dozen more guards surrounding the school and Aja was free to wander Elder High unmolested. But since the bad weather had flooded the courtyard, effectively soaking “Dr. Aja’s” office space, she didn’t have to attend to a long line of teenagers and their problems. The two of us spent lunch together in the school library—basically alone. Reading had never been a particularly popular pastime among my classmates.
“I’m surprised these reporters are so intent on talking to you,” I said. “They must have a source beyond Casey’s YouTube videos.”
“Yes,” Aja agreed in that special tone of voice that told me she knew for a fact what I was saying was true while I was just speculating.
“Have you healed someone I don’t know about?” I asked.
“Healings happen around this body, you know that.”
“For some reason your answer isn’t very comforting.”
“Have you finished your song about me?” she asked.
“Almost. I should work on it tonight.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“Ordinarily I’d say yes. But then I’d have to explain to the reporters and to my parents why I became a Satanist.”
Aja smiled. “If I tell the reporters that I’m the Harlot spoken about in Revelation, do you think they’ll get scared and leave me alone?”
“There’s an idea.” I paused. “I didn’t know you’d read Revelation.”
“I started reading the Bible a few days ago.”
I gestured to the outside world. “To better understand the questions you’d be asked?”
Aja laughed. “Don’t be silly.”
Only Aja would think it silly to prepare for anything life might happen to throw at her. “Read the Gospels yet?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What’s your take on Jesus? Was he connected to the Big Person?”
“Yes.”
“You sound certain?”
Strange Girl Page 19
