The California Coven Project

by Bob Stickgold

  Maggie was on her feet. “That’s ridiculous! What are we going to do?”

  “Well, for one thing, I’m taking a month’s leave of absence, effective whenever I get my patients shifted. Someone has to take this seriously enough to work on it full-time, and I seem to be the only candidate.” She looked squarely at Maggie. “We can’t run away from the world out there, Maggie. We have to deal with it, and sometimes that means changing our own plans. If I recommend your taking a leave to work on the cancer cure, then I can take a leave, too. Maybe Carol was right. Maybe it’s easier when you’re younger.”

  “Good for you, Beckie. Now I have to decide, too. I’ll let you know what I’ve decided by tomorrow morning.” As she said it Maggie realized that she, too, was going to take a leave.

  Later that afternoon Beckie returned to Maggie’s office to announce that a meeting of the N.M.A. was set for Wednesday night in Palo Alto. “We should have a press release ready, and, hopefully, a plan of action for heading off, the A.M.A.-C.M.A. attack. I’ll bet that there’s a lot of ambivalence in the C.M.A. I checked with some relatively sympathetic members in the C.M.A., and apparently the decision was made by the newly elected leadership, and never brought before the general membership, so they might have hung themselves with their quick attack, but I don’t know. Anyhow, I’ve switched all of my patients, and tomorrow I go on leave.” She fished into her pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “By the way, here’s a list of midwives I think we can bring into the cancer-cure program.” She handed a sheet of paper to Maggie. “Just check those you feel are acceptable, and I’ll get in touch with them.”

  Maggie looked over the list slowly. “Okay,” she replied. “I’ll do that sometime this afternoon, or else this evening.”

  “Great. And don’t forget the meeting Wednesday night.”

  * * *

  It was evening before Maggie found time to review the list. She knew almost all of the women on it somewhat, and half of them well. Several omissions surprised Maggie. For once Beckie wasn’t just running as far ahead of her as she possibly could. She had been very careful in her selections. The thought sent a wave of relief through her. If I can only depend on Beckie, she thought, I’ll feel a lot better about the whole project. But I’m going to have to get better at this, she told herself. If I’m doing it full-time now, it’s going to be my baby.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  By Wednesday evening, Maggie hardly recognized herself. She had approved Beckie’s entire list, and between them they had spoken with fifteen of the candidates by phone. All were excited about the project and had agreed to work on it. In addition, Maggie had requested a leave of absence from the clinic, implying, somewhat incorrectly, that she too would be working on the N.M.A. So, by Wednesday, she was unemployed. She and Beckie had spent the afternoon plotting courses of action. They had decided that those working on the cancer project would gather after the N.M.A. meeting in Palo Alto. They planned to approach the five women they hadn’t yet reached before the N.M.A. Session.

  In Palo Alto, the N.M.A. got off to a good start with even more members than had signed up after the walkout. Maggie quickly buttonholed the five women she hadn’t talked to yet, and all wanted to become involved in the cancer-cure project. Spirits were high, and a sense of determined defiance washed through the hall. Maggie was stunned by Beckie’s capabilities as a chairperson—within two hours a modified version of her press release had been accepted, a phone-in to hospitals and to legislators planned, and coordinating committees for each phase set up.

  When the meeting broke up, Maggie and the cancer-project people congregated at the rear of the hall. As they agreed to meet at Pat Mercer’s house, just a couple of miles away, several other women approached Maggie. One she recognized vaguely from some midwifery meeting or another, but the other was a totally new face. It was the unfamiliar one who spoke to her. “Hi, Maggie. Great meeting, wasn’t it?”

  Maggie smiled back, embarrassed about not recognizing the woman. “It was the best meeting I’ve been to in years. Everyone seems so excited.”

  The woman nodded in agreement. Then, indicating her friend, she added, “Eleanor and I would really like to do something more active, and we were wondering whether we could come along if some of you are going to be planning more stuff.” She indicated the small group waiting to leave for Pat Mercer’s house.

  Maggie was confused. “Well, this doesn’t have to do with the N.M.A., really. We’ve all known each other a long time, and we just get together for some small talk now and then.” She started to back away, to join the others, when Eleanor stepped forward.

  “Could we come and meet some of the women, Maggie? It would be nice just to sit and talk. All this politics isn’t very relaxing.”

  Maggie was flustered. “Well, let me ask,” she replied weakly, and turning, went looking for Beckie.

  “Absolutely not!” Beckie snorted, looking in the direction of the two hopeful participants. “You can’t just grab people at random for this, Maggie.”

  “But what do I say to them?” she pleaded. “I said no once, and they almost begged me.”

  Beckie frowned. “I’ll talk to them.” She walked over and spoke with them for a couple of minutes, while everyone else waited. The duo seemed to be giving Beckie an argument. Finally Beckie returned. “Why don’t you all get started? I’ll be a couple of minutes longer, but there’s no reason for you all to hang around for me.” She turned to Maggie. “Could you wait for me, Maggie?”

  “Sure.”

  Beckie pulled some keys from her handbag. “Pull the car around front, and wait for me there, okay?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I could, but I don’t mind waiting here.”

  “No, I’ll explain while we’re driving, but I want you to wait out front in the car.”

  Maggie shrugged again, and turned to go. She found the car in the parking lot, and pulled it around in front of the school. About three minutes later, Beckie trotted from the building. “Move over, quick.” She hurried Maggie out of the driver’s seat and jumped in. They pulled away with a roar.

  “What’s the big rush?”

  Beckie glanced into the rearview mirror. “I think they’re going to follow us.” She stopped at Alma, and waited impatiently white the light checked traffic, then gave them a green. “Yep, there they are.” She hit the gas and turned left.

  Maggie looked behind them. “You turned the wrong way.”

  “I know.” Beckie turned right at the first corner, and started winding through back streets. Alter a few minutes she stopped by the curb and turned off the lights and the engine. “Well allow them a few minutes to give up.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Beckie looked surprised. “Haven’t you figured it out? They’re plants. I don’t know who sent them over tonight, but they’re obviously out to get information on the N.M.A. They must have decided that we were a steering committee or something. I think they’re nervy enough to just walk into Pat’s if they knew where it was.”

  Maggie was stunned. “But who? . . .”

  Beckie smiled. “Well, Somers and the A.M.A. for one, Glanvil and the C.M.A. for another, and maybe even the police or FBI for a third.”

  “But why?”

  “Why for which one?’

  Maggie shrugged. “Well, the A.M.A. and the C.M.A. make sense, but the others? . . .”

  “Well, the police might see us as a protest group now—we’re certainly fighting the establishment. And they still try pretty hard to keep tabs on any group that they think even has a small chance of causing trouble.” She pulled up in front of a row of parked cars. “Well, here we are. Welcome to the cancer-cure club.”

  Inside, everyone was waiting for Maggie and Beckie. “It’s our baby,” Beckie whispered, then went to sit with the rest of the women, leaving Maggie alone at the front of the room.

  A little embarrassed, Maggie smiled at the group. “Hi. I guess you all want to know the details.”

  Mag
gie spent an hour explaining to the group exactly what had been accomplished so far in testing the medicine, and where she felt the project should go from there. There were a lot of questions for a while and some time was spent answering them, but in the end, everyone was excited about establishing an underground group to perform the necessary tests.

  As the discussion wore down, Amy Belever called out, “Maggie, what are we going to call ourselves? We need a name, you know.”

  Maggie shrugged. “I haven’t even thought about it,” She looked out at the group. “Any suggestions?”

  “How about ‘The Cancer Cure Club,’” Beckie suggested.

  “No good,” Maggie said. “We need a code name, so that if it’s overheard, it won’t give away the project immediately.”

  “How about the Witches’ Coven?” Amy suggested.

  “No,” Pat called out. “Just the California Coven.”

  A cheer of support went up from the crowd. “Come on,” Maggie said. “I think we should be more serious about this.”

  “Actually,” Beckie pointed out, “it’s not such a bad name. I wouldn’t be surprised if the people who first worked out the cure were considered witches. I think it’s time we gave witches a better name.” The others cheered again.

  “Listen,” Maggie insisted, “if we call it that it’s going to sound like we’re a bunch of cultists who call on the Devil and sacrifice babies.”

  “I don’t agree with you, Maggie. I’d feel pretty dumb if we called ourselves the Junior Medical Association of America.”

  Finally, Amy suggested a solution. “Why don’t we not settle on a name for now. Maybe we can use the California Coven as a code name for the project, but not consider it a name for the group. We can come up with that later on, when we have time.” She turned to Maggie. “Is that okay with you?”

  Beckie leaned over and whispered to Maggie, “If you don’t agree, I’ll suggest we call it The Margaret Jones Fan Club.”

  “Sure,” Maggie said, ignoring Beckie. “The code name is California Coven.”

  Finally, the meeting got down to the specifies of planning. Again, Maggie reviewed their plans for further tests. “Eventually,” she pointed out, “we’ll have to test it against different types of cancer, at different stages of development, and in different age groups; all that stuff.”

  “But isn’t the critical issue how much we have to do before we can go public?” Pat asked. “Because, once we can get the medical establishment to accept the cure as effective, they can run tests on tens of thousands of patients within a few months.”

  “True, but we should run for several months on our own, to accumulate as big a log of success as possible. There’s no way that the A.M.A. and the drug industry are going to like our discovery.”

  “In fact,” Amy said, “you should think about filing for a patent on your cure, because if you don’t some drug company is going to steal it out from under you.”

  Maggie shook her head. “That’s not what we should be worrying about now. Now we need to discuss the simple issues, how we’re going to recruit patients, whether we should screen them for the ability to keep a secret, who’s going to administer the medicines, and all that stuff.”

  In short order they sorted out most of the questions. It was agreed that all would search for possible patients, but not tell them about the project. Maggie would take six Coven members, one by one, with her while she treated the new patients, to show them how she implemented the psychological aspects of the cure. After they had observed her for a week, Maggie would watch them each treat a patient. With luck, six more people would soon be able to administer the treatment. At the same time, Maggie would teach another two women to prepare the medicine.

  “Which leaves the question of screening the patients for Secrecy.”

  “Could I make a suggestion, Maggie?” The question came from Lynn Yonida, an older woman, in whom both Maggie and Beckie had the utmost confidence. “What if we practice a little deception, and tell the patients that they have to receive boosters every month for six months? If we explain that the continued treatment is contingent upon our not being discovered, that should give them the necessary incentive to keep quiet.” Everyone agreed.

  “That brings us to security,” Maggie said. “Everyone here must maintain the tightest secrecy around this project. I can’t overemphasize how bad it would be for us if we’re discovered prematurely. At the least, we’re practicing medicine without a license and dispensing unapproved medications. It will be disastrous if the D.A. comes after us too soon. So everyone must agree not to tell anyone—and I really mean anyone—about what we’re doing.”

  “What about new members?” Amy asked. “Do we want to try to enlarge the group? I can think of a couple of women who weren’t invited who would be fantastic to have in the group.”

  Beckie answered. “Amy, I’ve thought of a few, too, and I suspect that our lists of additions overlap. But I don’t think we should expand for a while. Every step toward new people risks our secrecy, and I agree with Maggie—that’s of the utmost importance. I suggest that we reopen this discussion only when we must have more members.”

  Maggie looked around the group. Everyone seemed to agree. “Is there anything we’ve missed?” No one made any suggestions. “Do call me when you hear of possible candidates for treatment, and I’ll be in touch with those of you who are going to be working more directly with me. Why don’t we plan on getting together again in two weeks.” Maggie adjourned the meeting, and everyone headed home.

  * * *

  It was almost one AM, when Beckie dropped Maggie off. Maggie was surprised to see the light on in her study. Sure enough, Carol was at work. “How was the meeting?” she asked.

  Without thinking, Maggie started to discuss the Coven. “Hey, wait a minute,” Carol interrupted. “I thought this was a meeting of the Natural Midwives Association. What’s all this about a group working on the cancer treatment?”

  Maggie quickly explained about the formation of the California Coven. “Well, how come I wasn’t invited?” Carol demanded.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of it. Would you have wanted to come?”

  “Mom! We decided that I was going to work with you. And it was going to be just the three of us, you, me, and Beckie. Now you went and invited another twenty women to join, and didn’t even tell me. That’s not fair!” Her voice ended up halfway between an angry complaint and a whine.

  “I guess I just never thought about it that way. This group is made up of some of the midwives from the N.M.A.—”

  “And you’re throwing me out!?” Now she was angry.

  “Darling, I didn’t say anything like that.” She stopped and thought for a moment, “There’s certainly no reason why you can’t continue to keep the records, I suppose . . .” She drifted oft uncertainly.

  “What do you mean, you suppose?”

  “Well, I’m not sure. I mean, the others are risking a lot by being involved in this project, and I guess I’m not sure it would be fair to force another person on them without their at least discussing it first.”

  “It certainly didn’t bother you to take in twenty more without talking to me about it.” She stopped to sniff back her tears. “You’re still treating me like a kid. Well, you can just keep your stupid secrets to yourself!” Turning swiftly, she fled from the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The following week brought chaos to Maggie’s life. As if the California Coven Project wasn’t enough to keep her going time-and-a-half, the struggles of the N.M.A. refused to calm down. On Monday San Francisco City Hospital temporarily suspended the hospital privileges of midwives not associated with the C.M.A. Tuesday’s response was a massive phone-in and the start of legal proceedings aimed at obtaining at least a temporary injunction by week’s end. So Maggie spent a half-day calling women whose children she had delivered to encourage them to contact the San Francisco hospital.

  In addition, six cancer patients had been located
over the weekend by Coven members, and Maggie was struggling to mange a schedule that would allow her to take one apprentice to each patient. Both the timing and geography presented what at first seemed to be insurmountable obstacles. The solution was a ten-hour day for Maggie, who ate her lunch in the car while driving to appointments. So Monday night she prepared a huge batch of her medicine.

  Without further discussion of their fight, Carol began the records for the new patients on Monday night, and arbitrarily divided the patients into two groups of three: those would get the fresh and those who would get the frozen medicine. Maggie was also lining up more patients to test the feasibility of doing without the psychological pep talks, If the frozen medicine worked, then she could just drop off a weeks worth of medicine with three or four patients, and they could take it themselves, without getting the pep talks.

  By Thursday, things had just begun to calm down. San Francisco City Hospital had agreed to reconsider its stand, and the N.M.A. had a show-cause hearing scheduled in the district court for Friday afternoon. The two Coven women who were to learn to prepare the medicine had agreed to obtain the frogs and the other ingredients starting immediately, and that had taken some pressure off Maggie. In addition, they were into the third day of treatments for the six new patients, and a routine was starting to develop.

  * * *

  “Hi, Mom, dinner will be ready in about half an hour.” Carol gave her a quick kiss as she came into the house, and then returned to cutting tomatoes for a salad. “How’d things go today?”

  “Pretty well, but I’m absolutely exhausted. I’d love to be able to just eat dinner and go to bed.”

  “Why don’t you?”