head.
'I was trying to warn her when I called,' said Moss. 'Not trying to get her killed.'
'She was your warning, Moss.'
'Exactly.'
'Have you talked to Wright, Carlson and Monford?'
'Well, two of them. Sonny and Al looked them up, too. Told them what they told me. Cody's surfing down in Fiji. Man, I wish I was, too.'
Merci looked out at the glistening ocean, at Sean Moss's private playground, at the gnarled Torrey pines winding their way down his drive.
'Tough it out right here, Sean,' she said. 'Be ready to take a stand, tell what you know. Show everybody you're not the gutless little dweeb you seem to be.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Archie pushed Dr. Sondra Pearlman's 'Harnessing Your Subconscious-Adventures in Auto-Hypnosis' into the tape player of Durango. He liked that he was in an auto. He listened to the soft then to Dr. Pearlman's soothing voice.
'Welcome to the world of auto-hypnosis,' said the doctor of psychology. 'Welcome to yourself. In the next hour I'll be showing how to put yourself into a deeply relaxed state so that you can access to the thoughts, memories and emotions that are with you all the time, but you never know about. This is your subconscious. Unlocking your subconscious can give you insight into who you really are, and who you can become…'
The night was warm and humid and he could see the neon of the Air Glide Limousine sign in the parking lot across the street. The letters were hot aqua blue and the Air Glide logo-a long car tilting upward, with contrails wisping off it to suggest flight- red and pink. At least it looked that way to Archie.
He was parked in front of a surfboard shop down on Pacific Coast Highway, near the border of Newport and Huntington Beach. The shop was closed but Archie had found a spot beside a listing Volkswagen van that looked like it hadn't been moved in years. The traffic on PCH was steady and fast, but from the high interior of the SUV he could see perfectly the Air Glide lot and the front door of the business.
This was the same lot but not the same space where he'd parked the night before. He'd seen what he wanted to see then, a few minutes after midnight. Just terrifically good luck, he'd thought. He hadn't quite known what to do so he didn't do anything. Just went back to the hotel that used to be a packinghouse, stared at pictures of Gwen and thought about it.
The Air Glide window blinds were down but not closed and he could see a counter and a desk behind it and the same pudgy, dark haired man sitting at the desk. A row of shining silver stretch cars waited out front, angled in unison like a school of barracuda, facing the highway. He wondered if he was seeing them wrong and they were actually black, or if Air Glide favored silver to fit in with the flight theme.
'This is what we'll need to get started,' said Dr. Sondra Pearlman. 'First, make yourself comfortable and get ready to relax. I'd suggest a reclining chair or a comfortable sofa in a darkened area. You can lie on a bed or on the floor with a pillow under your knees and head for support. The key is to be comfortable. If you're prone to falling asleep, don't try the bed or floor positions. Once you're comfortable, you can either choose a small, preferably bright object to concentrate upon, or you can simply close your eyes and imagine a candle flame, an orange-and- blue lilting candle flame.'
Archie reclined the driver's seat. Not far, just enough to ease his head against the rest and give him a level sightline to the red neon car zooming through the sky. Without even moving his eyes he could see the front door of the business and the guy at his desk, now nodding, a phone to his ear.
One week ago tonight, he thought. We were here in Newport, at the Rex. Now he could remember how beautiful she was, how surprised and embarrassed, then grateful and happy. Only a few days ago, that memory-and its emotional echoes-would not have come to him. Thank God for modern medicine, thought Archie. Thank God for pills. He remembered the way her dress clung to her body, the great volume of her life pressing against thin fabric. He remembered being impatient and worried and nervous inside, and he was sorry to have spent her birthday that way. The truth was, he was like that a lot.
Sometimes she called him Worry King, as in welcome to
Worry King Live…
He tasted Gwen's sweat and lotion in his mouth, though that happened hours later.
'I'm still here,' she said.
'I know,' he said back. He looked at her and smiled. Gwen wearing a short yellow dress and yellow sandals, dark hair pulled on one side. She had her dark August tan. 'I wish I could touch
'Soon, Arch. Don't worry.'
Now Dr. Pearlman asked Archie to focus on his chosen object, just close his eyes, and imagine his favorite place. It should be a place outdoors, a place of stillness and beauty. It should be a place of peace and understanding. She told Archie to include his chosen object into the landscape as a focal point. For instance, if he was staring candle, the candle could become the sun, or the reflection of light off a lake.
Archie stared at the neon sign and imagined it was a bank of nightlights at a big-league baseball park. He imagined the other light banks to the left and right, then moved his mind's eye downward to the empty grandstands, the dark green wall with the white numbers on it, warning track and the outer edge of grass, the crosscut emerald expanse of the outfield, the orange gravel of the infield, the white bases in holy shape and the perfectly chalked baselines and boxes. The flawless infield, crowned by the pitcher's mound with its neat white rubber and the concentric furrows of the groundskeeper's rake. Finally, the elegant pentagon of home plate.
'Now,' said Dr. Pearlman. Her voice had become softer slightly more commanding. 'As you imagine your place of peace and understanding, breathe deeply and slowly. In and out. In and out. With every breath you take in, let go of all your thoughts. With every breath you let out, let go of all your thoughts once again. In and out. Thoughts going, thoughts vanishing. All you see is your place of peace.
A
ll you hear are the sounds of peace, if there are any sounds at all. Breath in. Breathe out. Thoughts going, thoughts vanishing. Again. Again And as you continue, imagine that you are not just visiting this place of peace and understanding, you are becoming a part of it. You are joining it. You are becoming peace. You are becoming understanding.'
'I apologize,' he whispered. 'For being so uptight on your birthday. I wanted everything to be just right.'
'You can't apologize for anything that generous and wonderful, Arch. I won't allow it.'
'That's a beautiful ballpark.'
'It really is.'
'I always loved the crunch of the gravel under my cleats. The first step I took onto the mound, if we were home. The mounds were perfect then.'
'I liked the first time I saw you against Dominguez Hills. I couldn't believe you looked at me during a game. But you did.'
Archie smiled. 'Two-hit 'em that day.'
'It was gorgeous. I was sixteen years old and in love with the most beautiful man God ever made.'
'I'd have died for you then. And on any day since then.'
'Oh, Arch. Don't get on a bummer. Not now, when we have so much to be thankful for.'
Archie thought about that as a seagull flew through the outfield lights, white against the blue plastic seats of the grandstand.
'They want me to give up. Go back to the hospital. Probably arrest me.'
'You have to do what you think is right.'
'I want to be together.'
'We'll be together soon. Then always together. Listen to this tape. It really sounds good…'
'… this state of total relaxation, you will allow your thoughts to speak to you. Try not to direct your thoughts. Try not to order them. Simply experience this peace that you have become. Simply feel the understanding that is
