23 Benny Makes His Therapy Meeting
Thursday evening and Benjamin Knowles' sister moved the last of the supper dishes to the sink and sat down across from him. She said, "Benny, how'd the job search go today?"
Benny's nephew squirmed. He shifted his nephew on his lap. The little boy reached for a salt shaker on the table and Benny moved it just out of his reach. He moved the pepper shaker before it caught his eye. "I heard about a new therapy group at the Church today. I thought I'd go try networking with the people there and see if something turns up."
Benny's mother smiled at her grandson and said, "I'm just so glad you moved in with us, Benny. That new priest at the Church, he's so full of the good. I'm sure he'll help you."
"Oh, shit." Benny looked at his watch. The meeting was supposed to start at 8:00. He put his nephew on the floor and jumped up. "I've got to get going." He grabbed his jacket and the flyer and ran out.
He pushed the main door exiting onto the parking lot and ran towards his Beetle. He fumbled for his keys and pulled them out with the flyer. He dropped his keys, found them and then dropped the flyer. He stuffed the flyer back into his jacket pocket and threw the jacket onto the passenger seat. He got the key into the ignition and started the engine. It turned, groaned, but didn't start. He tried again and it coughed twice and jumped life. He drove out almost hitting some guy walking across the lot. He waved an apology. He couldn't be late for this first group meeting. It wouldn't look good at all and if he missed the first meeting he would feel like an outsider, more than already. He was back from Los Angeles. He knew it wouldn't be easy, becoming a super mega movie star, but...it was just a matter of time before he got discovered...for now he was back in Seattle to regroup before returning to his meet his destiny in LA. A detour on his road to stardom - a great story, someday. His grandmom and sister needed him right now. And he needed a job so he could help them. He liked this new priest. He saw him last Sunday, his first service was full of hope and life and he was sure something good would come of this new group.
He drove through a stop sign. A very large truck almost hit him broadside. Boy, was he lucky today. That was…almost certain death. He took a deep breath and slowed the car down. He focused on his driving and didn't break any more traffic laws. He pulled into the Church parking lot. Lot's of cars. Looked like something big was going on.
He grabbed his jacket and jumped out. He rushed through the doors so fast he almost bowled over one of the older sisters. He asked, "Am I too late for the meeting?"
"No, no, young man. Down this hall third door on your right. They just shut the door not a few seconds ago."
Benny jogged down to the door and stopped. He took a deep breath. He looked back to see the sister watching him. She smiled and motioned for him to get inside. He opened the door.
Father Adair saw him first. The Father was still standing. Most had taken seats in a circle of chairs. Typical therapy group. He forgot exactly what this one was for. Looked to include mixed ages and both genders - maybe 15-20 people, a bigger group than the one he had attended down in LA. He would have to play it by ear, make sure he wasn't sitting directly in front of or to the side of the Father so he wouldn't be called upon first - till he knew more. The Father motioned for him to take one of the few seats not yet claimed.
"I think we have our group now." He looked to his left and then across from his seat at two empty chairs. "Why don't we move those two empty chairs out and away and let's get started? That's good, everyone pull in together. Closer. Good."
Benny was careful not to meet anyone's eyes. He put his hands on his lap, then put one in his jacket. He needed to blend in. The Father took his seat and looked around. Benny edged his eyes a bit to his left and then to the right and he could feel a few were looking at him. He ran his hand through his hair and down to check his pants' zipper. It was up. The Father cleared his throat. They stopped checking him out and looked towards the Father.
"I'm so new to Seattle. I was shocked at how fast my transfer request went through. I'm hoping you all can help me get used to things up here." He stopped looked around and then down to his hands. He looked up and continued, "Fortuitous circumstances - some sad and some good - have brought me here to Seattle and allowed us to come together to find mutual support before God to endure what you have been called upon to do even after your various...transitions. I can't say that I know what you have gone through...are going through but I can say that fortune brought me onto the path of one of you and I know the ache and tribulations that were set upon her and...I was there when she was…taken. I decided to offer this weekly gathering each Tuesday in our modest Church to seek ways in which we can support each other to endure through to the lights that await all of us in the end, the living, the dead spirits, and the undead."
Tuesday? He pulled the flyer out of his jacket and the word Thursday jumped right out at him. The group he had intended to join was on Thursdays. This was a different group. He hadn't even known there would be a Tuesday group. He looked around and everyone was focused on the Father. Shit.
One of the men said, "Father, you asked to come to Seattle, and you can leave as you please."
"Yes, that's true..."
A young girl said, "Father, do you really know George? How did you meet?"
"George?" The Father's brow furrowed up. "Of course. But we're here to talk about your unique situations…"
"Come on, Father, we've got a lot of time. Tell us how you, one of the living, managed to find out about us and live to move to Seattle. And your grandmother is one of us…and is here, right? Come on, Father. She's adopted a living boy. That's what we want to hear about."
"Yeah, Father, give it up. You knew that poor girl, Maria, who went home, didn't you?"
"I don't think we should focus on me. This gathering is meant to..."
An older woman broke in. "Father. We're all curious. Let's hear a little about your story and then we can get to ours." She looked to each side and he could see heads nodding. So could the Father. She had support.
The Father looked around the group and shrugged and grinned. He knew he was better off giving way. "OK. What do you want to know?"
"Give the straight on Maria...and George...and that living police detective." She looked around. "What's his name, John something?"
Benny was grateful that no one was paying him any attention, but he still hadn't gotten hold of the thread yet. What was the problem? What brought these people together? Drinking? Drugs? Both? It must be broad. He could see young and old here. Living? Why this interest in some guy named George?
"Well. Yes. I know Georgia Lass well. She and the detective, John Merryweather, came down to Los Angeles to return Maria to Seattle. Did any of you know Maria?"
Heads looked around most all shaking no. One girl said, "I met her once. She was with Daisy and Mason, but I never got to know her. What happened, Father? And how did she manage to get back with her living family? And really, come on, what really happened? They say the Dark took her right in front of you? Is that true? I heard that this John detective is alive and George ghosted him."
Another guy, who look to be his age, said, "Is it true George conducted a séance at Maria's house?" Several laughed at that.
The group started cross talking and Father stood up and raised his hands likely trying to get things back on track. Everyone quieted down and he sat back into his chair. "I promise I will answer all the questions it is appropriate to answer, but why don't we get to know each other better first. We need introductions." He looked around the circle. "Why don't you all introduce yourselves? Please? Start with your name, when and where you died, and maybe how long you've been in Seattle."
A woman to the Father's left leaned closer and said something to him that Benny couldn't hear. The Father said, "And I am told it's customary to mention..." He looked back to the woman. She said something more. The Father resumed, "And say something about how you died...and your group...the type of reaps you do?"
What the? This had to be a joke. Maybe this was some improv group. Could be fun.
The woman to the Father's left, stood, and started off, "My name is Penny. I died in 1912 in a boating accident over in the Atlantic..." Several in the circle laughed at that.
A man called out, "Penny, don't you mean the Titanic?" Several people chuckled and a few laughed again. This Penny seemed to be known to this group already.
Penny smiled at him, looked around, and affirmed, "A boating accident. I reaped several years over in New York and was transferred out here with Rube Sofer to join Charles Seamore's group, for murders, accidents, and suicides, etc, oh back in 1927. But now I work at an elderly care facility where I take care of natural causes." She sat down.
Benny looked to the faces across from him. Nobody reacted to this Penny's little speech. Every group he had ever joined...all two of them...you're supposed to tell the truth about yourself, or something close enough to be believed. And...
A young man next to Penny stood. "My name is Eric. I died in 1944 - shot on the beaches of Normandy. But these days I'm working natural causes out of a Denny's well to the north."
Some older man was watching him now staring right at him. Benny tried hard not to meet his eyes. Another woman stood. "Hi, my name is Wilma. I died of a brain tumor, aaah, back in 1957, in Florida. I've been reaping natural causes for 30 years working out of various hospitals..."
That older man watching him raised his hand and the woman noticed and stopped talking. The man's eyes were intent on Benny. The woman, Wilma, turned to follow the man's eyes and they settled on Benny, as were the eyes of everyone else in the circle. This was like a nightmare. The man stood and walked over to him stopping a yard in front of his chair.
He looked down and smiled. He crossed his hands in front. "This group is preparing to put on a special play about the vagaries of the afterlife. We're all trying to get into character." He paused to wave a hand to each side to take in the sweeping circle of chairs…and faces all looking directly at him. He resumed, "The Father will be directing and producing. Do you have experience in acting? Mr. Knowles, isn't it?"
"Yes...Yes, I'm an actor." He looked up at the man. He could feel sweat on his forehead and a drop was tracing down his left cheek. How did the man know his name?
The man looked over to the Father and said, "Do we have all the parts filled yet, Father?"
Benny looked into the Father's eyes. They were welcoming but he looked a bit flustered. From the corner of his eye he could see the intent looks of all the others. Maybe they didn't like a real actor showing up. No. He doubted that. He didn't believe there was a play, either.
The Father stammered, "I...I...actually, I'm sorry to say we've got every part filled...twice over." The Father rose from his chair and walked over. He took Benny's hand and guided him to his feet. "What is your name, son?" They moved together towards the door together. The Father put his arm around his shoulder.
"Benjamin Knowles. I...I...just moved here from Los Angeles...to...help out my mother and sister...and..."
"Benjamin. Could you come see me tomorrow, say in the early afternoon? I'd like to talk this over with you and see what we can do for you."
The two of them walked through the door. The Father shook his hand and said, "Tomorrow then." He left him standing there. The door closed.
The same sister he almost ran over before came out of room down the hall. She must have heard the door open and close. "Well, young man, that was quick."
He looked at her. "Sister, do you know the name of the play?"
"What play?" She looked puzzled.
"I heard the Church was putting on a play."
She frowned. "Young man this Church does not put on plays. I hear the Baptists down the street sometimes do. Maybe the Lutherans, but not this Church."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Foolish me. Anyway, I got the wrong night. I thought this group was the Thursday night group." He turned to go. Stopped and asked, "There will be a Thursday night group, right?" He pulled his flyer back out and held it so she could see it.
"Oh, yes. Are you coming? I'm excited. This new Father is so full of life."
"Yes, yes. I'll be here." He paused and asked, "What's this group for...in there?" His hand waved back towards the room he had left.
Her brow crinkled just a bit. "I don't know. The Father has been hush hush about this gathering for Tuesdays. I offered a few people to join, but he said no. He said Thursday would be good. What did they say to you?"
"Nothing. Nothing. Thank you, Sister. I'll see you Thursday." He walked down the hall. His sister would never believe him, but it would make a great story. He couldn't wait to get home. Benny exited the Church and headed to his car.
"Benjamin."
He turned to see the man who had stood in front of him, the one who stopped Wilma's explanation of having died of cancer in Florida in the 1950's. He waited.
The man walked up smiling. "I hope there are no hard feelings, Benjamin. I mean, I'm sure you'd like to get a part in our play. Maybe next year." He held out his hand.
Benny took it and they shook. "No, sir. I'm OK. I didn't know about the play. Honestly, I just mixed up the nights. I thought this was the Thursday night group meeting." He pulled out his flyer again.
The man took it and read it over. "Funny, the odd twists fate will take." He handed it back. "You take care, son. And, goodnight to you." He smiled and turned to walk back into the Church.
That was odd. Benny put his flyer into his jacket and got into his car. It started right up. Revved nicely, too. He drove well under the speed limit. About three blocks away from the Church a bus ran a red light and hit him on the driver's side. He caught a glimpse of the bus driver's face, frantic to stop - way too late. It hit him square on and small car, big bus. The outcome was not in doubt. He stood off to the side looking at what was left of his car, and then himself. He felt a pull back towards the Church. He went with it and that same man was standing in the parking lot watching him approach. His face had a just visible shimmer to it.
"Hi Benjamin."
"Am...am...am...?"
"Yes, I'm afraid you are, Benjamin."
Lights appeared within a stone's throw. He looked at them, studied them.
The man nodded towards the lights. "Those are for you. Just walk into them."
"I...I...I...can't."
The man rolled his eyes, but then showed a gentle smile. "It's OK, Benjamin. They're here for you."
"I can't. My sister and her boy and my mother. They're counting on me. I can't."
"They're not your concern anymore. And...there's nothing you can do for them."
No. He refused to believe that. He moved in the opposite direction.
The man called out, "Benjamin. Please, don't go. Let's talk this over."
There was nothing to discuss. He headed for home.