The Teacher

The Teacher: Part I Unchained, Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

I MUST HAVE INTERRUPTED SOME sort of ceremony, not unlike the Catholic sacrament of Holy Communion, where those wishing to partake make their way to the altar rail, kneel down, and receive the Eucharist wafer and share a cup of wine. From what I saw, Holden was their priest and they were subserviently kneeling at his feet.

They'd just finished passing around a cup of some liquid after chanting a kind of prayer relating to the concert. I was standing in the doorway, not wanting to disturb what the band was doing.

"Fallon, you came! Good...good...what did you think?" Holden asked after finally noticing me.

"I still can't believe you had time to pull an incredible act like that together in just a few months! The concert was truly amazing!" I shared with enthusiastic honesty and sincere admiration.

"Sure...hey, thanks, but you know what I'm really concerned about—did we get our message across?" Holden persisted.

"Well, tonight just proves that there is something to what you're saying...no one alone, without help, without tapping into some special source of support, could have turned their life around the way you did. I'm listening, but I'm not a convert yet, and I'm still not sure at all what that would even mean," I blurted out awkwardly, while trying not to be challenging with my remarks.

"Perhaps we can do something about that problem a little later on. Tonight there'll be a new moon and we celebrate with a special ritual. Would you like to join us?" Holden asked, knowing it would be a sort of initiation for me if I participated.

These were bad boys, or worse, but I really didn't have a choice. I had to explore deeper whatever it was Holden wanted to share with me. I convinced myself that I could stay in control, and therefore stay safe.

When I saw the upside-down cross around his neck, the danger and pull of the unknown put me in a seductive trance and I felt moved by a powerful impulse—not gravity or magnetism, but something just as potent stemming from the psychic realm of souls and spirits.

HOLDEN BOUGHT A LARGE TOURING vehicle complete with all the amenities of a luxurious mobile home to travel to their play dates. It was also where they stored their band equipment, play props and served as a clubhouse on wheels. I stepped up onto the bus and could barely contain the escalating intense mix of excitement and trepidation.

"So, where are we headed?"

"You'll see...it's a ways out of town and in a secluded area, an old abandoned church, but don't worry you'll be safe," Holden replied.

I settled into one of several lush, cushioned rawhide leather armchairs. Instead of the band's music, or some other heavy Goth metal, a type of ancient Gregorian chant was playing softly through the sound system. Each of the other band members had the same look of surreal confidence that became so compellingly impressive on Holden's face, yet they all looked to him as their shaman, assuming the role of supplicants. Everyone was quietly sipping on an old, dark, expensive burgundy.

"So, Fallon, how long have you known the Guardian?" Thor, the rhythm guitarist asked, just assuming I was already one of them.

"She's not there yet, Thor, but I'm working on her," Holden interrupted.

"After tonight's performance I must admit to being more than a little curious. You guys got to everyone, including me, the ultimate skeptic when it comes to any idea that challenges the entrenched faith I grew up with."

"We were all there...where you are now. Real raw truth can sometimes be painfully hard to process, but you just have to if you're going to move your life forward on your terms," Thor asserted.