The Madness of Mercury

by Connie Di Marco

  I walked downstairs to the front door and peeked through the beveled glass window. Kuan’s door stands at a ninety-degree angle to Gloria’s. The sign was gone; it was safe to knock. Kuan answered the door almost immediately. He’s is in his seventies, wiry and energetic with beautiful posture. That day he wore an outfit of black cotton pants and a plain long-sleeved shirt without a collar.

  “Julia, how are you? I heard you arrive.”

  “I’m fine, but the furnace doesn’t seem to be working. How’s yours?”

  “It’s warm and toasty in here. You might want to call a repairman, see what’s wrong. You’re welcome to stay here if you like.”

  “You have patients coming today?”

  “Just one later, at five o’clock.”

  “In that case, don’t worry about it. I don’t want to disturb you. Keep your fingers crossed the furnace hasn’t died. I’ll turn on the kitchen oven for now and call someone.” I kissed his cheek. “Thanks anyway. I’ll see you later.” Gloria was nothing if not organized. I pulled her Rolodex out of the desk drawer and found a card for Prager Heating & Cooling. A woman answered. I could hear the sound of screaming children in the background.

  “Jerry’s out on a call right now. He’s in Daly City, but maybe I can reach him and have him stop by later.”

  “That would be great.” I gave her Gloria’s address and my cell number, stressing that I’d be waiting all afternoon. I resigned myself to working on the kitchen table and turned the gas oven up to four hundred degrees. I know that’s not the best idea, but I was desperate. I reheated the mug of tea and used it to warm my fingers.

  I debated again whether to sign on to my AskZodia email, and this time decided to do it. As soon as it opened, a new email popped up. With a feeling of dread, I opened it, hoping no one had sent me a computer virus.

  “If my people which are called by my name shall humble themselves and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin … ”

  I closed the browser. I didn’t need to read any more, but I was delighted to learn my sins could be forgiven. I picked up the phone and dialed Samantha.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Julia! Les has been calling everyone into his office for the third degree. Everyone who had access to our files here and in Payroll. He’s really upset about this.”

  “Good. I hope he gets to the bottom of it. I’ve got some more responses to send back to you, by the way. Did you get the one I asked you to reprint?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Sure, why not? If that’s why you’re being harassed, then all the more reason people should read it.”

  “Good. Thank you.”

  “Julia, I just love the Zodia column. And it’s such a success. I read the letters that come in before I send them to you. And then I read your responses every week. I really hope you don’t let this scare you away.”

  “A few kooks aren’t gonna shut me up. Don’t worry.” I heard

  the doorbell ring. “I gotta go. We’ll talk later.” I pushed my laptop away and walked down the stairs to the front door. A thirty-something chubby man in baggy jeans with a round apple-cheeked face stood on the threshold.

  “Jerry?”

  “That’s me. Jerry Prager. What’s the trouble?”

  “Well, I don’t know. The furnace doesn’t seem to give off any heat from the vents.”

  “I’ll have a look. Where is it? The garage?”

  “Yes. Wait a sec, I’ll get the keys.” I ran upstairs and rummaged through Gloria’s desk until I found a set, then walked down the outside stairs to where Jerry waited. I turned the lock and heaved the old-fashioned wooden garage door open. Jerry followed me into the darkened space. He pulled out a flashlight and examined the furnace.

  “Well, at least this baby is a lot newer than your house. Must be from the early sixties. A wonder it’s lasted so long.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Your furnace is cracked.”

  “Cracked?”

  “Yup. Gotta shut your gas off.”

  “What? You’re kidding. That’s the only thing that’s keeping any heat at all in the house.” It doesn’t snow in San Francisco, at least that I’ve ever heard, but in winter, the freezing winds off the Pacific and the Alaskan currents hitting the west coast keep the weather cold and damp.

  “Sorry, lady. It’s required. And these old houses don’t have a separate shut off for just the furnace, so if you have a gas stove, you won’t be able to use it. It’s real dangerous. You can check with the gas company if you don’t believe me. You’ve gotta replace this one.”

  I groaned. Not only couldn’t I go home, but I couldn’t let Gloria come back to a freezing house, not after her cruise. She’d end up with pneumonia. “How soon could you replace it?”

  “Well … ” Jerry pulled off his baseball cap. I could see a premature bald spot and pink skin on the top of his head. He scratched the bald spot and replaced the cap. “Best I can do … is three days from now, maybe two. I’ve got one helper down with the flu, another furnace replacement on the schedule, and I’ve gotta order a new one delivered from the factory. Even if I could do it sooner, I doubt I could get you one till then anyway.” He shone his flashlight at Kuan’s furnace. “I see the downstairs apartment had a new one put in. Maybe a few years ago? Now that’s a real beauty. I could get you one of those.”

  “Okay. How much?”

  Jerry scratched his bald spot once more and quoted me a price. I gasped. I’d have to put it on a credit card. I knew Gloria would insist on refunding me the money when she returned. I wasn’t worried about that, just about how much room I had on my one big credit card.

  “Hang on. I’ll get a work order out of my truck.”

  I shivered while I waited for Jerry to rummage in the front seat of his cab. After a few minutes, he returned with a form in triplicate and lots of fine print. I signed on the bottom line, committed to the delivery and installation of an honest to goodness working furnace, and if Jerry thought it was a real beauty, that was good enough for me.

  After he turned off the gas to Gloria’s apartment, we shook hands and he climbed into his truck and pulled away from the curb. I closed the garage door and locked it, dropping the keys back in my pocket. When I reached the kitchen, I saw that Wizard had moved onto my vacated seat cushion for warmth. What warmth there was wouldn’t last long without the oven. The Uranus transit had even interfered with my second home.

  I checked Wizard’s bowls and made sure he was set for the afternoon. I grabbed my purse and coat and rubbed his ears. “I’ll be back very soon, Wiz. You’ll be fine. You have a fur coat. I don’t.” I headed down the stairs and locked the front door behind me. As I turned around, Kuan’s door opened.

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “Furnace has to be replaced. Gloria’s gas is shut off.”

  “I thought so. Same thing happened to mine a while back. Offer’s still good.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you going back to your apartment now?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to tell Kuan about the crazy picketers or the trouble with my landlady or any of the rest of it. “Don’t think so. I’ll probably come back here.” I sensed that he knew I was withholding something, but I didn’t have time to explain the entire situation, and he didn’t push it.

  He nodded. “How soon can they get one put in?”

  “Three days.”

  “If you’re busy, let me know. I’ll make sure I’m here to let them in.”

  “Thank you! I’ll be back and forth while Gloria’s gone, but don’t worry if you don’t see me.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. In response, he held his hand up, palm facing me, separating his middle and ring fingers in the Live Long and Prosper sign.

  “How do you do that? I never can.”

  Kuan smiled and shut his door.
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  FIFTEEN

  IF EVANDRA WANTED A séance tomorrow night, I needed to get in touch with someone who could set that up. The only person I could think of was Nikolai, a psychic and past-life regression hypnotist I’d met through the Mystic Eye. I had his address and phone number and I could call him, but I felt I’d stand a better chance of having him say yes if I asked in person. Evandra had been very firm that the séance take place on the evening of December 21st, Lily’s birthday. That was tomorrow, and I had no idea if Nikolai would agree to do it. I didn’t know if he was even in town.

  Nikolai lives in a converted garage in the Inner Sunset. His living quarters are upstairs, but most of the time he can be found working in his “studio” on the lower level. When I pulled into the driveway leading to his space, I saw three cars, in addition to his, parked there. He had company. I left my Geo behind the last car, closest to the street, and walked up the driveway to the side door of the garage. An outside stairway led to his apartment, but if Nikolai was at work, I’d find him here at ground level.

  I knocked loudly. Inside, someone yelled “Cut.” There were footsteps and suddenly the door was flung open. Nikolai filled the doorway. He’s over six feet and very portly. He sports a full gray beard and long gray hair. Today he was dressed in a voluminous, deep maroon robe.

  I took two steps back and looked up. “What the hell? Are you channeling Rasputin?”

  “Julia! Vat delight. Haf you finally realized your great lust for me?” Nikolai’s booming voice could be heard two houses away.

  “Oh, stop it.”

  “I knew you would someday. Dat’s vy you knocked. Today’s my lucky day. Come in.”

  “I’m not interrupting?” Behind Nikolai I could see some commotion with a camera and a tripod.

  “No … just exorcism. For my community access cable show.”

  “How many entities do you have in that garage?”

  Nikolai responded with a belly laugh. “Come in and meet them all. They don’t bite.”

  I mentally shook my head. Astrology makes sense to me. There’s an order and a logic to it. But exorcism? I wasn’t sure if I believed in such a thing, the driving out of evil spirits who possessed people, but Nikolai’s show had gained in popularity to such an extent that it was about to be aired on a local TV channel, not just community access. Nikolai’s subjects were always very young, attractive women with theatrical ambitions. It was truly amazing how many aspiring actresses in San Francisco were possessed by evil entities.

  Nikolai indicated a small thin man with large glasses. “Dis is Chuck, our technical vizard.” I shook hands with Chuck, who was a good foot shorter than I, with dark greasy hair and thick glasses that slid down his nose.

  “And dis is Lydia, my charming subject.” Lydia rose from the velvet draped bier on which she had been reclining.

  “Hi.” Lydia didn’t look particularly happy to be interrupted. She was wearing a long gypsy skirt in bright colors and a tight, low-cut tank top. She turned to Nikolai and pouted. “I thought I was your only subject today.”

  “You are, my dear, you are. Julia and I are colleagues. Vee take a little break, okay?”

  Lydia sighed and moved to a makeup table set up in the far corner, where she began to add to her rouge and eyeliner. Nikolai winked at me and led me to two armchairs at the back of the space. Indicating I should sit on one of the chairs, he took the other, after placing a hard cushion over the frayed upholstery and metal spring peeking through.

  “Vhat’s up, Julia?”

  “I have a client who wants to hold a séance.” I hadn’t sorted out my feelings about the plan. I guess I’m not a particular believer in communications with those who have passed over, and perhaps this makes me uncool to some people, but I was determined to keep an open mind. “Are you up for it?”

  “Are you kidding?” Nikolai beamed. “I’d luf to! Vhen?” Rumor had it that he’d once worked in a top-secret Soviet psychic program; remote viewing, to be exact. No one knew exactly how the rumor had started, but when questioned, Nikolai would become very serious and refuse to talk. I’d learned to stay away from that subject.

  “My client wants to hold this tomorrow night, the 21st. That’s if you possibly can. She’s elderly. Her niece, who is also my client, is a nurse, and she’s been staying with her aunt to take care of her after she fractured her hip.”

  “Ve need medium.”

  “Oh!” Who knew?

  Nikolai pulled on his beard and thought a moment. “Zora would be good. You know her?”

  “Sure. In fact, there’s a meeting at the Eye tonight. She’ll probably be there. Are you coming?”

  “I vould luf to, but I’m tied up. I heard vhat happened there. Terrible.” Nikolai shook his head in dismay.

  “It was. We were lucky we were able to put the fire out.”

  “Vere you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine. Gale and I were just scared to death.”

  Nikolai nodded in response.

  “You should know going in that Dorothy, the niece, is not happy about this at all.”

  “Not a problem. She vill luf me when she meets me. Now vhat about other people? Vee need a group, you know.”

  “I can be there. There’s Dorothy, her husband Richard, the two aunts Evandra and Eunice, and perhaps Gudrun, their companion. Oh, and there’s Alba, their housekeeper.

  “Let’s see, dat vill be seven. Should be fine. I call Zora dis afternoon.”

  “You really think she’ll be up for this? I can talk to her tonight.”

  “Sure she will. Holidays are so slow, as you vell know. Zora vould be essential. I pick her up and bring her. Must be good-sized table and enough chairs.”

  “Oh, my client’s house is huge, and there’s more than enough furniture.”

  “Write down address for me. How’s eight-thirty? Vee get rolling at nine.”

  I jotted down the address to the Gamble house on the large pad that Nikolai passed over to me. He rubbed his hands together and smiled. “I’m delighted, Julia. Tank you. Haven’t done vone of dese for a while.”

  “I should tell you there’s a family legend about a—”

  “No! Not a word.” Nikolai held up a hand. “Less I know is better.”

  I put my coat on as Nikolai walked me to the door. I said goodbye to Chuck and Lydia, who both ignored me. Chuck was busy adjusting his camera, and Lydia stayed focused on touching up her makeup. Nikolai gave me an all-enveloping bear hug and lifted me over the threshold. I felt my back crack as he let me go.

  “You vay too tense, Julia. You should stop by see me more often.” He smiled and gave me a knowing wink.

  “Not a chance. I have to look out for my virtue.”

  Nikolai let out another huge belly laugh and waved goodbye. I hurried back to my car. I had to admit my back and shoulders felt a lot better.

  As I reached into my coat pocket to retrieve my keys, I spotted a folded piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper. I lifted it out. It was a flyer advertising services at the Prophet’s Tabernacle. These people were everywhere. I walked back up the driveway and discovered the same flyer stuck under the windshield wipers of the other cars.

  Visiting Nikolai had lifted my spirits, but suddenly my buoyant mood collapsed. The upheaval of the past three days came flooding back and I felt a wave of anger that I had been uprooted from my nest by crazy people. I returned to my car and climbed in, then looked more carefully at the flyer. The lettering was in large bold Gothic type. It said, “Do not turn to mediums or wizards. Do not seek them out, to be defiled by them. I am the Lord your God. Leviticus 19:31.”

  The Tabernacle held a service every evening at six o’clock on Mason Street. If I hurried, I could make it. Perhaps it was time to observe the enemy in its own camp.

  SIXTEEN

  I FOUGHT AFTERNOON TRAFFIC along 19th Avenue through the Sunset and cut over to Geary to head back downtown. I drove up to Mason. It was ten minutes to six, still within prime tow-away time, fo
ur to six p.m. I didn’t dare take a chance. I could see a tow truck a block away with a meter reader in attendance, lying in wait for anyone foolish enough to jump the gun. I pulled into a lot near the corner, hoping I had enough cash on me to bail my car out when I returned.

  I walked the block and a half back to the theater. A large sign on the marquee announced the new home of the Prophet’s Tabernacle. Inside, the street-level lobby was overheated and noisy, full of the Reverend’s worshippers. Large posters the size of movie ads dominated the walls, showing Reverend Roy in various poses, preaching to his flock, his arms outstretched, welcoming them to his Tabernacle. Enlarged photos displayed pictures of the Prophet’s Paradise in Mendocino County. Happy children played by a swimming pool, while elderly residents tended a vegetable garden. A long table held a coffee urn and plates of homemade cookies and brownies. Next to that was a basket for voluntary donations. Two women stood on either side of the entryway, smiling, welcoming followers and newcomers. It had all the earmarks of a neighborhood church social.

  I eased inside and pulled my collar up. From a corner, I scanned the room, hoping to see someone I recognized from the crowd of demonstrators outside my apartment. I shivered when I thought of the man who’d held a knife to my throat and the man who’d stood with binoculars at the other side of the tennis courts. That second man could have been a curious neighbor, but my instincts told me he’d been in charge of orchestrating the commotion outside my apartment. Even if he was here tonight, though, I wouldn’t know. He’d been too far away for me to get a good look at his features.

  None of the faces in the lobby were familiar. Some men in jackets and jeans looked as if they did manual labor. They had hard faces and calloused hands. A few were accompanied by wives or girlfriends. There were white, Asian, Hispanic, and African-American faces among the crowd. I heard Spanish and Russian spoken in muted conversations. I didn’t see a lot of designer labels in the room.