Priestess of Paracas

by K Patrick Donoghue

  Anlon was in the midst of examining his own attire — golf shirt, jeans and hiking boots — when he heard the sound of windchimes and caught the aroma of incense. At the same time, Griffin announced, “There it is. There’s the driveway.”

  Turning to follow the direction of Griffin’s pointing finger, Anlon finally caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a one-level, adobe-style ranch house hidden behind shrubs and the leaves of several gangly-looking trees.

  He could also see a floppy-eared bulldog galloping toward him, its drool-flinging tongue slapping the air as it ran. Anlon halted in place, bent his knees and braced for impact. The dog never barked or growled as it launched itself at him. Raising up on its hind legs, its front paws collided with Anlon’s thighs, streaking his jeans with the reddish dust of the road. The blow from the beefy dog staggered Anlon. “Whoa there, champ. I give up. You win.”

  He extended his hand and the dog’s tongue completely coated it with goo in a matter of seconds. It then turned its attention to Griffin, hopping up and down as if greeting a long-lost friend. As Griffin petted the dog’s wrinkled head, Anlon heard a voice call to the dog. “Come, Happy. Show our guests the way before you drown them in slobber.”

  Anlon spied Dr. Sanjay Varma standing beneath a pergola attached to the far side of the ranch house. Dressed in an untucked, white, short-sleeved dress shirt and khaki shorts, the barefooted psychologist waved. As Anlon waved back, the dog ran circles around Griffin before it turned and took off in the direction of the house.

  On the way, the dog stopped every ten feet or so to exhort Anlon and Griffin to pick up their pace. When they finally arrived at the pergola, Sanjay nodded with his palms pressed together, fingers touching just below his chin. “Namaste.”

  Anlon followed Griffin’s lead and returned the greeting. Then Griffin and Sanjay shared a hearty hug that seemed to Anlon more befitting of friends than therapist and former patient. But Anlon guessed that was to be expected given how long Griffin said Sanjay had treated him for post-traumatic stress. The impetus, Griffin had shared with Anlon, was a rock concert stampede early in the Ice Zombies’ rise to fame. Several teens had been trampled to death near the stage and Griffin had tended to one of the dying victims. He said the memories of the stampede and dying teenager had haunted him for many years.

  When the two broke from the embrace, Sanjay reached for a towel on the patio table beside him and presented it to Anlon. “Sorry about your hand. Happy gets excited when we have visitors.”

  “Not a problem. After all, what’s a little saliva between friends?” Anlon smiled at Happy as he wiped his hand. With its tongue hanging out, the dog panted and wagged its stub of a tail.

  With the cleansing completed, Sanjay led them to patio chairs overlooking a valley of desert scrubland ringed by Sedona’s red mountains in the distance. As he invited them to sit, Sanjay asked, “Where is your car?”

  “Up the road at the trailhead.” As Anlon spoke, Happy sniffed the backpack he’d placed on an unoccupied chair next to him.

  “It’s my fault,” said Griffin. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out here. I forgot about the creek bed and we ended up missing the driveway.”

  “No worries. Everyone misses it,” Sanjay said with a smile. “I’m just glad you found your way back.”

  For the next ten minutes, Sanjay and Griffin updated each other on developments in their lives while Anlon sat quietly and listened to their conversation. He was pleased to discover Sanjay was enthusiastic about Griffin’s relationship with Jennifer Stevens, a close friend of Anlon’s, and even more pleased to see Griffin light up when he talked about her.

  The dialogue also gave Anlon a chance to study Sanjay. He appeared to be in his late forties, a little older than Anlon, but a bit younger than Griffin. With thinning black hair and spectacles, Sanjay looked more like a research scientist than he did a mystic. Anlon felt the urge to blurt out, “Where are your beads, man? And the tie-dyed robe?” but he managed to contain himself.

  When Griffin and Sanjay finished their respective recaps, Sanjay then turned his attention to Anlon. “Thank you for indulging us while we caught up, Dr. Cully.”

  “No problem. I enjoyed listening to you get reacquainted. And, please, if you would, I’m not much on formality. Anlon is just fine.”

  “Very well, Anlon. First name basis it is.”

  “Deal.”

  “Excellent. Now, before we get into the heart of our conversation, can I interest either of you in some refreshments?” Sanjay asked.

  “Hell, yeah, I’m starving,” Griffin said. After Sanjay disappeared through the patio door leading into the house, Griffin leaned toward Anlon. “Dude makes these amazing little curried chicken sandwiches.”

  A short while later, Sanjay emerged from the house carrying a pitcher of fresh-brewed iced tea and a tray laden with finger sandwiches. Griffin relieved him of the sandwich tray and scooped up four sandwiches before passing the tray on to Anlon. While the three men snacked, Sanjay said, “So, Griffin told me you are living on a boat?”

  “Boat? Nah, man. I said it’s a freakin’ superyacht,” said Griffin. “Over a hundred foot long, four levels, crew of nine. It’s a mansion on the water.”

  “My apologies,” Sanjay said, bowing to Anlon. “Griffin tells me you are living on a mansion on the water these days.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is a little over the top. It’s unusual for me. I don’t like to flash my wealth, I’m pretty much a jeans-and-sweatshirt kind of guy. But we’d planned to take a trip around the world, and I worried something smaller wouldn’t fare well in open ocean.”

  “Had planned? You have cancelled your trip?” Sanjay asked.

  “It’s been put on hold for the time being. The situation with Pebbles kinda threw a monkey wrench into the whole around-the-world thing.”

  “Ah, I see,” Sanjay said. “I am curious. Where did the idea originate? Living on a boat, that is.”

  Anlon finished sipping iced tea and placed his glass on the patio table. “It’s hard to fully answer that without discussing Pebbles and what she’s been going through, but the short version is we thought a change of scenery — shaking our routine up, getting away from it all — would help with her nightmares. But it didn’t. If anything, it made the situation worse.”

  “Hmm…I am sorry to hear that, Anlon. In theory, the idea was a good one,” Sanjay said. “A change in environment can often disrupt a cycle of nightmares.”

  “Yeah, that’s what we both thought, what we hoped for. But it kinda backfired. Before we even got out of the dock in San Diego, she started having random daymares in addition to the nightmares. You’d probably call them flashbacks, but I call them hallucinations.”

  Anlon watched Sanjay sit back and stare at the smoke swirling up from the incense pot. After a short stretch, Sanjay said, “Many people confuse the two. To the untrained eye, a flashback can look like a hallucination. The person experiencing the flashback is literally acting out, reliving, an event from the past. To the person watching, it appears as if they are seeing someone tripping out.”

  “I understand the distinction between the two, Sanjay, but, in this case, the line between flashback and hallucination is so thin, it’s hard to know which side of the line Pebbles is on from one moment to the next.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Because it’s hard to fathom what’s going on in her mind,” Anlon said. “You have to understand, Sanjay. I respect the hell out of this woman. Everything about her. She’s smart as a whip and tougher than nails. She’s genuine, grounded. And she usually has good instincts. Really good instincts. But I can’t help feeling she’s wrong about what’s going on. And I’m worried she’s going to hurt herself — or worse — if she is wrong.”

  There. I said it. That’s what’s really bothering me…why I can’t figure out where to begin. I’m worried she’s going to off herself, intentionally or in some hallucinogenic fit. Her freaking brain was damaged. She�
��s not in her right mind. It’s affecting her judgment. Why can’t she see it?

  “You love her,” Sanjay said.

  “I do.”

  “I am sure it has been difficult to see her going through the nightmares Griffin described to me. Her struggles must be weighing on you too.”

  “I’d be lying if I said they weren’t.”

  Sanjay nodded as he lit a new stick of incense and slid it into the vase at the center of the table. “I understand. You want to see an end to her suffering. Just like her, you want the bad dreams to stop.”

  “That I do. She’s been through a lot.”

  “Yes, from what I read online about her kidnapping, she certainly has,” said Sanjay. He leaned over and petted Happy on the head. “I understand from Griffin that Pebbles is reluctant to consult a therapist.”

  “That’s right. There are some…unusual aspects about what happened to her that make it hard for her to talk about. She doesn’t think any therapist will take her seriously.”

  Sanjay locked his gaze on Anlon’s eyes. “You agree with her.”

  Anlon sighed. “Yes, and no. Yes, in the sense I understand why she feels that way. No, in the sense I want to believe there are therapists with open enough minds to take her seriously. Griffin seemed to think you might be such a therapist.”

  “Well, it is certainly true that I am more open-minded than most. I find the human mind a never-ending source of mystery and I enjoy delving into those mysteries.”

  “Then I’d say Griffin led me to the right man.”

  “We shall see.” Sanjay rose from his chair. “Let us go for a walk and continue our discussion.”

  With Happy tagging along, Sanjay led Anlon and Griffin back onto the dirt road. As they walked toward the trailhead where Anlon’s rental car was parked, Sanjay said, “Anlon, I think it is important to start by saying that I cannot directly assist Pebbles without her consent. We can talk about her situation in general terms and I am happy to answer your questions as best I can, but you should not consider my answers diagnostic or therapeutic. She is not my patient, and I am not her therapist. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. Now, if, after we have talked, it seems like I might be of direct assistance to Pebbles, and you would like me to meet with her to discuss a possible consultation, I am open to do so.”

  “Okay, got it. Appreciate you keeping the door open.”

  “Now that we have that out of the way, let us first talk about the traumas Pebbles experienced. From the articles I read online, she was kidnapped from your home and assaulted, the latter resulting in a coma. Is that correct?”

  “There was a lot more to her ordeal than that, but, yeah, that’s the gist of what happened.”

  “And from what Griffin shared, when she awoke from the coma, she reported having an out-of-body experience.”

  Anlon turned and stared at Griffin. “An out-of-body experience? That’s how you described it to him?”

  Griffin shrugged. “It seemed like a good way to describe what went down. I figured you could do a better job of describing the nitty gritty than I could.”

  “Am I to take it she did not have an out-of-body experience?” Sanjay asked.

  With his eyes still latched on Griffin, Anlon said, “Oh, she had an out-of-body experience all right. Just not the kind you’re thinking of. She didn’t see a bright light at the end of a tunnel. She didn’t float up and see herself. She didn’t enter the Pearly Gates.”

  “Okay, then what happened?”

  Here we go. He’s gonna freak. Or laugh. Or both.

  “You said you had an open mind, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like, a little open or a lot open?”

  Sanjay stopped walking and turned toward Anlon, bringing the full hiking party to a halt just shy of the trailhead. As Happy circled Anlon’s boots, Sanjay said, “You have nothing to fear, Anlon. I am not here to judge, only to learn.”

  “Okay, Sanjay, I’ll take you at your word.” Anlon tightened the straps of his backpack, nudging it higher toward his shoulders. He then took a deep breath and said, “If you’ve read articles about her kidnapping, you know Pebbles was strangled to the point of unconsciousness. What you don’t know, what the articles don’t mention, is that the woman who strangled Pebbles then transferred her mind from her brain into a stone tablet. Thankfully, with some help, we were able to find the stone and transfer her mind back into her brain.”

  Sanjay’s expression did not change. He did not blink. He did not twitch. Anlon was not even sure he drew in a breath. He just stared at Anlon for a moment and then turned his gaze to take in the vista of the valley. After a short spell, Sanjay resurfaced from his thoughts and scratched at his thinning crop of black hair. “Well, that’s a first.”

  Griffin interceded. “Look, Sanjay, I get it. It’s a hard story to believe. But I know Anlon well enough to know he’s on the up and up. And if you meet Pebbles, you’ll see she is too. What Anlon just told you did happen. Now, I wasn’t there when it went down, but I’ve seen these stones. He’s not bullshitting you.”

  “I don’t doubt your sincerity, Griffin. It’s just—”

  Anlon interjected to finish Sanjay’s sentence. “It’s just that it isn’t possible, extracting someone’s mind and downloading it into a stone.”

  “I would have chosen different words, but it does come across as, um, fantastical.”

  Griffin leaned toward Sanjay. “If you think that’s fantastical, wait until he fills you in about the ten-thousand-year-old woman who strangled Pebbles. Or the ten-thousand-year-old dude who put her mind back in her body.”

  As Anlon slid off his backpack, he saw a deep frown form on Sanjay’s face. Meanwhile, Griffin fought to keep Sanjay from tuning out.

  “Oh, come on, Sanjay. You’ve heard crazier shit than this…and believed it. I know you have. Like the dude you told me about who would get high on LSD and enter a fourth dimension. Or that hippie from Nevada you said can read people’s minds. Hell, you’ve even shared your Pearl Harbor story with me. Your ‘past life’ experience. If you can believe all that mumbo jumbo, you shouldn’t have any trouble believing Anlon.”

  “I did not say I did not believe him, Griffin. I said it was fantastical. There is a difference.”

  Anlon opened his bag and pulled out a squarish black stone. It was about the size of a dinner plate and etched on both sides. Handing the stone to Sanjay, he smiled. “From one PhD to another, nothing makes a scientist happier than proof. Am I right?”

  “Proof of what?”

  Withdrawing another stone from the bag, this one grayish and shaped like a hockey puck, Anlon scanned the area near the trailhead. “We need you to lie down for this. What’s your preference? We could try the backseat of my car over there or find a nice smooth rock. Or we could head back to your house.”

  “I do not understand. Lie down for what purpose?”

  “Uh…a demonstration.”

  Griffin nudged Sanjay in the ribs. “You’re gonna dig this, bro. I shit you not.”

  CHAPTER 2: IN THE DARK

  Aboard the superyacht Sol Seaker

  Kona Kai Marina, San Diego, California

  September 18

  The match ignited with one stroke. Jennifer Stevens cupped her hand around the flickering flame and guided it to the candle. As she held it near the wax-encased wick, her eyes danced between the wick and the fire moving up the matchstick toward her fingers. Behind her, she heard Pebbles McCarver huffing. “Would you please hurry up? I can’t hold this position much longer.”

  Just as the flame licked at Jennifer’s fingertips, the wick caught fire. She whisked the charred match away and blew it out. “Chill out. The whole purpose of yoga is to relax you.”

  “How can I relax like this? I’m straining every muscle just to stop from keeling over.”

  Jennifer turned and spied Pebbles’ half-hearted attempt to maintain the downward-dog pose. Clad i
n a tank top and yoga pants, Pebbles was bent over in the shape of an upside-down V with her hands pressing against the floor on one end of the V and her feet gripping the floor on the other. As Pebbles’ arms and legs wobbled, Jennifer said, “Get your butt in the air. Higher. Higher.”

  “I’m trying, I’m trying,” Pebbles grumbled. “Who does yoga on a boat anyway? It’s hard enough balancing on land.”

  Jennifer knelt down on a mat beside Pebbles. Before assuming the same pose, she slapped Pebbles on the butt. “Higher.”

  “Hey!”

  “Shh…close your eyes and breathe. Listen to the seagulls and breathe. Relax your neck.”

  “This is too hard. Can’t we start with something easier?”

  “You’ll loosen up, just be patient. Once your body heats up and stretches out a little, you’ll feel better.”

  “If I live that long. My hamstrings are killing me.”

  “Try this,” Jennifer said. She lifted her foot off the floor and pulled her knee up under the arch of the upside-down V. Then she slowly straightened out the leg as she pressed it backward in the air before returning it to the ground. With the movement completed, she repeated the motion with the other leg. “Come on, try it. It feels good.”

  “It’ll only feel good if I get to kick you on the way back.”

  Before Jennifer responded, she heard the sound of Pebbles crumpling to the floor and turned to see her friend lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. “That’s it. I’m done.”

  “Hey! Hold on there,” Jennifer said. “We just started!”

  “No. You just started. I’m heading to the galley for a smoothie.” The barefoot Pebbles slapped Jennifer on the rear as she walked toward the cabin door. “Have fun twisting yourself into a pretzel. Scream if you need a rescue.”

  Pebbles emerged from the portside gym cabin and into the center hallway of Sol Seaker’s lower deck. A short walk later, she hustled up the spiral steps amidships and arrived on the main deck. A quick saunter aft brought her to the galley on the yacht’s starboard side. Before pushing through the swinging door, she peered through its porthole and spotted chief stewardess Cindy Tanner restocking provisions in the refrigerator. With a fist pump, Pebbles whispered, “Yes!”