Divine Madness (13 page)

Lauren, James and Dana were immediately taken in separate directions by their chaperones. The community room was being used by a group of elderly ladies for a music and movement class, so Eve took James upstairs to a shop with an elaborate glass frontage. It had clearly been a jeweller’s before the mall went bust.

The inside was filled up with bean bags and foam blocks and a group of teenagers were sprawled over the cushions. There was a TV hanging on the wall and it was showing a programme about the building of the Survivors’ second Ark in Nevada.

James smiled. ‘You’ve even got your own TV station.’

‘The programmes get flown in once a week from the Ark on videotape,’ Eve nodded. ‘It’s a mixture of films, shows from normal TV and documentaries and news programmes that we make ourselves.’

‘Looks a bit dull,’ James said. ‘Can’t you flip to something else?’

‘No,’ Eve said, looking thoroughly offended. ‘We don’t want to bring the influence of devils into our home. Besides, it’ll be switched off in a minute when our service starts.’

As James strode uneasily over stacks of bouncy cushions and trailing legs, he was greeted with smiles and handshakes. A few minutes later, a forty-something women dressed in a white robe came in. She introduced herself to James as Lydia, before sitting in the centre of the room.

‘Welcome James,’ Lydia gushed, as if she’d been waiting her whole life to meet him.

As soon as she said it, the two dozen teenagers started clapping, before repeating her welcome. When it quietened down, Lydia stared directly into James’ eyes and smiled at him.

‘James,’ she said. ‘You visited us here for the first time on Saturday. Did you have fun?’

James nodded. ‘Yeah, it was cool.’

‘You saw the exhibits in the hall downstairs. You saw the good work we do for the environment and for poor people around the world?’

He nodded again, though he hadn’t actually paid much attention.

‘But I’m told you don’t believe in God.’

James was surprised to find that his casual remark to Ruth had been reported. He wondered if anything else he’d said would come back to haunt him.

‘Well …’ he said weakly.

‘That’s OK, James,’ Lydia smiled. ‘Maybe one day you’ll feel differently. We can tell that you’re a kind and considerate person. We understand that you’ve moved to a new town where you don’t know very many people. But hopefully you’ve found friends amongst us here?’

James nodded. ‘You’re all really nice. In fact you’re
amazingly
 
nice.’

James felt cold inside, because he knew Lydia was trying to manipulate him. But he was still disturbed by how easily he’d bonded with the group four nights earlier. If this had been his real life instead of a mission, he’d still be sucking up the warm feelings while the Survivors took control of his life.

‘Does everyone here think James could become an angel?’ Lydia asked.

‘Yes,’ every teenager in the room shouted, before breaking out in cheers, whoops and clapping.

James smiled, but as soon as he found himself feeling genuinely flattered, he used one of the techniques Miriam had taught him. She’d explained that thinking of something you found physically repulsive stops you becoming overwhelmed by strong positive feelings. In James’ case, he’d trained himself to think of a soggy cheese and mayonnaise sandwich that he’d encountered in Arizona ten months earlier. Just imagining the smell of it made him gag.

‘James, would you like to learn about the Survivors and the work we do for the planet?’ Lydia asked.

He nodded uncertainly.

‘We’d very much like you to become our friend and learn about us, James. We don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do. But we would like to offer you this necklace as a token of our friendship.’

Lydia stood and pulled a leather strap necklace out of a pouch on the front of her robe.

She stood above James. ‘James Prince, do you take this necklace from us as a symbol of our friendship?’

‘Sure,’ James said, making a point of grinning and nodding as if he was really flattered.

He raised himself up on his kneecaps and allowed Lydia to loop the necklace over his head. Once it was on, she urged James to stand, before giving him a hug. While they embraced, a line of clapping kids had formed behind Lydia and they started hugging him in turn.

They all repeated the same phrase: ‘Welcome to the Ocean of Love.’

After the formal greetings, James found himself surrounded by smiling teenage boys and girls, inviting him to barbecues, ceremonies and a fundraising trip at the weekend. When their enthusiasm died down and most of them had wandered out of the room, James found himself back in the company of Eve.

‘Wasn’t that exciting?’ she grinned. ‘I’m so pleased you chose to take the necklace. It’s the first step towards becoming an angel.’

‘I dunno,’ James smiled wryly. ‘You’re a nice bunch, but this is all a bit odd if you don’t mind me saying so.’

Eve ignored the remark. ‘I visit an old folks’ home after school most days,’ she said. ‘Maybe you’d like to come along with me tomorrow?’

‘Why?’ James asked.

Eve tilted her head to one side and gave him an extra special smile. ‘It’s entirely up to you, of course. But I’d really like to give you a taste of the charity work the Survivors do.’

Lauren got her leather necklace that evening in a ceremony identical to her brother’s, except that the surrounding kids were her own age. Abigail emerged from her meeting, holding Elliot’s hand, looking happy and carrying more Survivors literature and a A$229 set of CDs and DVDs in a glossy orange folder entitled
Survive Life! – Revolutionise your lifestyle through the teachings of Joel Regan and his Ocean of Love
.

To make their recruitment as Survivors more realistic, Dana had been asked to take a more sceptical approach. She spent the evening with a seventeen-year-old male chaperone, grilling him ruthlessly about every aspect of Survivor lifestyle, from the negative features of living in a commune to questions about how a supposed Christian like Joel Regan had famously sired thirty children with more than a dozen young women. Dana rather enjoyed making her young companion squirm.

It was gone midnight when the Prince family got home from the commune. James scratched and yawned his way through Thursday’s lessons. At the end of school, he unlocked his bike and walked it across the playing fields to meet Eve at the rear entrance.

They rode ten kilometres in the blistering afternoon heat. Their destination was a sprawling facility called North Park Elder Care Community. Elliot was waiting for them in the driver’s seat of a white van.

‘James,’ Elliot said enthusiastically, as he stepped out. He grabbed the soggy collar of James’ school shirt, making sure he still wore the leather necklace, before pulling him into an enthusiastic hug. Elliot stepped back and reached into his shorts, pulling out a painted wooden bead.

‘Each bead symbolises a positive step,’ Elliot said. ‘And this afternoon represents your first contribution to our community.’

‘I thought you were just going to show me around,’ James said, thinking it best to sound a touch suspicious.

‘I’m sure you and Eve will enjoy yourselves,’ Elliot said, deliberately ignoring James’ comment.

James took the necklace off, but he didn’t have the fingernails to undo the knot in the leather and slide on the bead. While Eve took care of his necklace, Elliot walked James around to the back of the van. Refrigerated air wafted out as James peered inside at stacks of large plastic trays. Each one was identical: set out with local newspapers, confectionery, cigarettes, small bunches of flowers, drinks and lottery tickets.

Elliot placed two trays on the tarmac, before stepping inside the van and taking out two collapsible trolleys. The double-handled trolleys unfolded and the trays slotted on top.

‘What’s all this about?’ James asked.

Elliot smiled and rubbed James’ shoulder. ‘I’ve got to get to six more retirement homes. Eve will tell you what to do.’

As Elliot drove away, Eve looped the necklace, complete with bead, over James’ head.

‘What’s this trolley business?’ James said. ‘I thought you were showing me around?’

‘Oh,’ Eve said, sounding wounded. ‘I told Elliot you wanted to help us with our charity work. He’ll be really cross with me.’

James acted confused. ‘Why? It’s just a misunderstanding.’

‘Yes, but the Survivors have had some bad publicity about us taking people and making them do stuff they don’t want to,’ Eve explained. ‘Of course, it’s not like that and we
 
always
 
give you a choice, but Elliot’s very sensitive about it. He’ll go bananas at me if he thinks I pushed you into this.’

James realised it was a set-up: the way Elliot gave him the bead and ignored his question, followed by Eve saying she’d get in trouble if he didn’t do what they wanted.

‘I can go inside and call Elliot,’ Eve continued, sounding worried. ‘Oh dear, I’m really for it now.’

James smiled and said what he knew Eve wanted to hear. ‘OK, I’ll do it … It was a surprise, that’s all.’

Eve made a little squealing noise and pulled him into a hug. ‘Thank you James. You’re fantastic.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ James said, catching a sneaky downward glance at Eve’s cleavage as she squeezed him. ‘What exactly is it we’re supposed to do with this stuff?’

‘All we do is take it around to the rooms, knock on the old folk’s doors and ask if there’s anything they want to buy.’

The home was built on a single floor and the mostly female residents lived in rooms with balconies and private bathrooms. The building was modern and it wasn’t horrid, but it seemed lifeless and the squeaky-floored corridors reminded James of a hospital.

After the receptionist buzzed them through a locked door, James followed Eve into the first few rooms to watch her sales technique. Eve spent at least three minutes talking to each resident, most of whom were in the final stages of life and were either bedridden or barely mobile. Eve traded banal news about school and the commune for information about each resident.

Almost everyone bought something. It was usually a small item, like a chocolate bar or newspaper, but there were also requests for Elliot – who visited each resident weekly – to put something on the van. These items ranged from an old gent who wanted a monthly fishing magazine to a brash old lady who requested a particular brand of toilet paper because,
 
The stuff they give you in here leaves your arsehole as red as a radish
.

After the first few rooms, Eve sent James off to work a different section of the home. He spent nearly an hour passing from room to room, having more or less the same conversation, which always started with,
 
Where’s Eve today?
 
and ended with the purchase of a couple of dollars’ worth of goodies. James noticed that the prices were double what you’d pay in an ordinary store.

James met a newly arrived resident on his last call but one. The name on the door said Emily Wildman and he found her sitting on the corner of her bed looking bewildered. Some of her belongings were still in packing crates, the curtains were closed and she’d clearly been crying.

‘Hello,’ James said, trying to sound friendly as he pushed his trolley into the room.

‘What are you, a bloody boy scout?’ she said abruptly.

James did a little spiel that Eve had taught him, explaining that he’d volunteered to wheel the stuff around the home and that the profits went to help development projects in the third world. Eve hadn’t been especially clear about what the development projects were, but Miriam Longford’s book claimed that most of the money raised by Survivor charities went on administrative expenses and ended up in the organisation’s own coffers.

‘Have you got a mother?’ Emily asked sharply.

James thought of Abigail and nodded, but it pricked him when he remembered that his real mother was dead.

‘When she’s old and she goes dotty, are you gonna sell her home and make her live in a place like this?’

James smiled. ‘You’ve got a great big patio and a garden outside. All the people I’ve met here seem really nice.’

‘It smells like old people and piss,’ Emily said bluntly.

James laughed. ‘It doesn’t smell
 
that
 
bad.’

‘If they can make you better, they send you to hospital. If they can’t, they send you here to die.’

Emily was thin and looked barely strong enough to stand up, but James still felt intimidated as he backed his trolley up towards the door. ‘Well, I hope you settle in. I bet you’ll get used to it.’

‘Hang on,’ Emily said. ‘I’ll take one of the Cadbury Turkish bars. I don’t eat a lot these days, but I expect I’ll nibble a few squares.’

‘That’s three dollars.’

Emily looked a bit shocked at the price.

‘Blow it,’ she grinned, swiping her hand in front of her face. ‘I’d rather a bunch of Africans got it than my prat of a son.’

James smiled as Emily handed him three one-dollar coins, but he felt awful as he backed his trolley out and stepped up to knock on the final door. Everything about the place reminded James that he was going to get old and die.