November 22 1955 6:45 PM EST
Cleveland, OH
81W41; 41N29
09'¶08°Š53'07°Ü
02°
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57' 01° 18°
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18° 18'
28° 28°
‚04'ˆ21° »ˆ
25' Œ27' ˆ17° É 25' 54'‡29°¸20'
31' ‡ ‡24° ¾23°º 57'18°Œ 04'07'† ‡
18'
† 29°ƒ14'
26°
02°35'30'¼À18°
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28°00° 09'08°„53'Á½07°†
03°… 49'
It's impossible to see someone's chart clearly when you're in love. Maybe it's just as well I don't have Dave's birth information--I wouldn't be any more objective with that. What's really weird is that if Gary had been born just half an hour later, his Sun would have moved out of Scorpio into Sagittarius and he'd have Cancer on the Ascendant rather than Gemini. He could have been a much different person--okay, still a Romeo, but not a criminal. For all I know--as little as he ever told me about his family--he could have a twin brother born half an hour later. Just my luck to pick the evil twin!
When she compared the charts, Gary's Scorpio Sun was sitting on Astarte's Scorpio Moon in her house of sex, birth, and death. Pluto was now traveling over that combination, so he certainly was a prime candidate for the baby's father. She sighed, admitting, With all his connections with Astarte's chart--that Sun/Moon conjunction, especially--they were actually a better match than he and Jillian. If they'd been closer in age, and if the die hadn't already been cast in Gary's scam, they'd probably have been good for one another.
In Gary's chart, Pluto was going through the sixth house, the house of work, having made a series of daunting aspects, but suggesting his financial treachery. She thought sadly, I guess that pretty much settles it. If I don't see it in the chart, it's not real for me. It's like Robert says--I wouldn't believe the sky was blue, unless I could prove it by astrology. That combination might also show Gary was the murderer. That's NOT what it means, I'm sure of it, but it's a good thing Lyons doesn't read charts!
Putting together a snack of raw veggies for herself and Ethan, Jillian told herself, I ought to have some concrete proof, rather than only the charts. How would I get it? I'll bet you anything he took her to the castle for the big seduction scene, just like he took me. He never had much imagination. Gets into a pattern and sticks with it--all those planets in fixed signs. Maybe I could go over to the castle and sneak a look at the hotel register.
But when would they have stayed there? If she was two months along when she died July 27, then they had to get together by the end of May. Wait a minute--it was June 12 when Gary took me to the castle for our anniversary! She was already pregnant while he was trying to get me upstairs, telling me he wasn't interested in her because she was just a kid!. What a conniving, lying bastard! A worm turned in Jillian's stomach
She drove to the Castle after her shift and spoke to the receptionist. "You know, I wonder if you could help me. My husband and I stayed here a couple months back, and I lost the receipt, so careless of me. Well, now Gary--that's my hubby--is trying to get reimbursement from his company for that trip, and they won't do it without a receipt. I was passing through, so I thought I'd drop by and ask. Could I impose on you for another?"
The receptionist was a bubbly, young local woman who was still excited about landing a summer job in such a prestigious place. "I'd be very happy to help you out. What dates did you stay?"
Jillian pretended utter vacuousness. "Now, was it the fourth week of May or the first week in June? Dear me, what did Gary tell me about that?" She sorted through her bag helplessly. "Oh, NOOOO, I've left my date book home, too! Gary always says I'd forget my head if it wasn't fastened on. Quite a sense of humor, he has. Do you mind if I just look in your guest book? I'm sure I'll find it."
Rolling her eyes at this space cadet, the receptionist passed the book to her, and Jillian turned to late May. There it was, May 25, in his chicken track handwriting: Mr. and Mrs. Gary Jones. She showed the receptionist the entry and left proudly clutching the receipt.
She stood on the castle steps, drinking in the view of the distant hills and water. My very first piece of detective work, she thought. I had no idea it was so easy. Of course, the people in this town are so trusting, anyone could scam them. They don't even have library cards, for Pete's sake! You just sign for the books. What a contrast to New York, when there are armed guards in the library and you have to go through a detector on the way out to make sure you haven't stolen any books.
She strolled through the castle's rose garden, marveling at the perfection of the huge Peace roses and breathing in their delicate fragrance. Exulting in her success, she thought, wait 'till I show this to Lyons! Dummy, if you show it to him, he's going to be dead certain Gary was the killer. That's not what you hope to accomplish, no matter how furious you are--you want Lyons to keep looking for other suspects. No, put it away for later, if it turns out it can do him some good.
HOTLINE TO HEAVEN Chapter SeventeenAugust 10
Since the Moon would be full at 11:15 that morning, Robert brought Ethan to the trailer at 10:30, so they'd have plenty of time to prepare. They agreed to take the phones off the hook and explain to Midge later, if she complained about the gap in calls. They rationalized that the ritual was for the good of the line, freeing their work from the disruptive energy of the violence.
Jillian lit a bundle of sagebrush wrapped with thread, which she'd bought at the metaphysical bookstore. "We should be smudging with sage regularly anyway, since we're dealing with clients' problems all day long. It'll clear out any negativity we soak up."
The sagebrush wand smoking heavily, she started at the trailer door and made an unbroken circuit along the walls to the outer door again. She traced the outline of each widow and doorway as she went, then swung the wand through the center of each room. The ritual was to be held in the front room, where the body had been found, so she smudged especially heavily there. The smoke was strong and pungent, not unlike marijuana, but the place felt palpably lighter. She concluded by passing the wand through each of their auras to cleanse them.
Ethan showed them a book, Ask Your Angels, by Alma Daniel, Timothy Wylie, and Andrew Ramer. "I'm basing the ritual on this book and Sophy Burnham's A Book of Angels. They're full of information about the archangels we're named for."
He gave them copies of the pages in both books covering their personal angels. He explained that each archangel has guardianship of one of the directions and that the qualities associated with those directions are significant. Usually, a ritual proceeds around the compass points from east to south to west to north. In this ritual, they'd be starting with the west, since the goal was to dismiss spirits rather than summon them. Jillian was to go first, since Raphael is the Protector of the West--the angel of death but also of healing and transformation. For that reason, the west was a key to freeing Astarte's spirit, so Jillian would be carrying the weight in this ritual.
Robert, as Michael, Protector of the North, was to go next. In this ritual, Michael represented peace, harmony, and global cooperation. Ethan was Uriel, the Protector of the East, the guardian of the mental realm, and the interpreter of prophecy. Jillian would
also invoke Gabriel, the angel whose name Astarte used on the line and the Protector of the South, which has to do with love, the heart, and hope--Astarte's own strengths.
Jillian and Robert read the pages, murmuring in surprise at how prescient they'd been in choosing their names all those months ago. At Ethan's instruction, each composed a prayer to invoke their angel, mentioning the angel's special jurisdiction and qualities.
He asked them to begin by visualizing a circle of white light, for protection, surrounding the trailer. Checking carefully with a compass, he made a small altar at each of the four directions, using bowls of holy water and the scarves Astarte's parents had given Jillian. He placed a stick of incense and a candle at each compass point. He said a silent prayer as he lit each one, to call in the energy of the direction.
Jillian thought, this would please Astarte. She always burned candles. To invoke the angels, Ethan taught them a chant from Ask Your Angels1: Eee Nu Rah
Eee Nu Rah
Eee Nu Rah
Zay
Gah Raphael Nah Gah Mik-ay-el Nah Gah Uriel Nah
Gah Gabriel Nah
They each stood behind the altar of their namesake as they chanted the lines together for several minutes.
Jillian had always felt a powerful affinity with the west and the sunset. She found it natural to be covering the west in this ceremony. She prayed,
"Raphael, you who are the Angel of Death, please release the spirit of our departed sister, Astarte, who is also known as Pamela Cabot, from the earthly plane.
As you are the Divine Healer, please heal Astarte's astral body and soul of all bodily and emotional afflictions and give her peace.
As you are the Chief of the Guardian Angels, watch over all of us, but
especially over Astarte's soul so that she may be free of all unwholesome influences. Please also help the soul of her unborn child to release any shock connected with the sudden severance of their connection and also to find a new vehicle for incarnation if so desired.
1 These chants, including the unpublished one, were channeled by Andrew Ramer, co-author with Alma Daniel and Tim Wylie of, Ask Your Angels. They are used with his permission.
I also ask your special indulgence in sending a guardian angel to watch over Gary Jones, though not to interfere with his appropriate karma.
Please uplift and heal all of us who are associated with the Hotline to Heaven, and help us be a source of healing and transformation for all those who call us."
Jillian hadn't told Ethan or Robert about young Jennie, since there was no way to know for sure if she was alive or dead, so she said a silent prayer for her as well.
At the north corner, Robert self-consciously prayed,
"Michael, please be with us in seeking freedom for Astarte. As you are the Guardian of Dreams, let Astarte sleep in peace, and let my dreams and all our dreams be free of disturbance.
As you are the Guardian of the Night, I ask that you keep this place safe for me and Ethan to work at night.
As you are the Commander in Chief of the Celestial Army, defend us all and keep us safe from harm."
"Uriel, please lend your strength in uplifting our sister, Astarte. As you are the keeper of the rising sun and the Light of God, let a new radiance infuse her spirit, releasing any darkness and bringing her joy.
As you are the Angel of New Beginnings, let this be a new beginning for her, in which she releases the violence of her death and any issues remaining from this lifetime.
As you are the Angel of Retribution, letthe one who did this deed fulfill its karma.
As you are the Angel of Work, please cleanse our workplace of any residue of this death so we can give the best possible service to those who need us. Be with us now and always, Uriel."
As Ethan requested, Jillian turned to the south and prayed to the Angel Gabriel."You, who are the name angel of Astarte, please be with her always. Celebrate and cherish the love she so freely offered the world, and return that love a thousand fold, so she need never feel alone, but is always surrounded by a host of loving souls. Please bring solace and healing to her parents, Joan and Paul Cabot, that they may experience her continued love. Let them know that there is no loss or separation in the world of spirit, and that they will be reunited
with her when their time on earth is done." The sense of angelic presence was strong when they finished praying. The room seemed suffused with a soft white light. There was an aura of joy and love. Jillian marveled, the Catholic Church was right! There really are angels who will answer when you can call! I thought this angel craze was just another fad that would pass, but it's real!
Ethan had offered to do a trance session to contact Astarte and to be sure she was free. He said that with the presence of the angels, he didn't need to go so deep, so he could report on what was happening as he went along. As he went under, rocking from front to back in his seat, he suddenly grimaced and moaned. "The pain! The pain! My legs hurt so bad, I can't bear it. Why doesn't it stop?"
Jillian told him, "That's Astarte. Her Mom said she was in constant pain. Ask her to move some distance away, so you won't have to feel it."
Ethan moaned again, breathed more deeply for a while, then the grimace left his face, and he relaxed. "I do see her, the same blonde woman who was there the last time. She's the one in the tape of the commercial, so it has to be Astarte."
"Does she look okay?" Robert asked. "When I think of how I saw her last, I feel so bad. I dream about it all the time."
Ethan said, "Oh, she's beautiful and quite radiant. For some reason, she's wearing a belly dancer's costume. She seems very joyful, and she's doing a dance. Now, she's lifting up her skirt and showing me her legs--they're perfect and they're very shapely. She's kicking them high, like a Rockette. I think she's trying to let us know that they've healed since her passing, and they don't hurt anymore."
Robert was puzzled. "But you felt the pain in her legs when you started."
"That often happens in mediumistic contacts. The person who passed on is no longer suffering, but when the medium taps in, it's through the vehicle of the physical body they had in life. It's surprising she would have cast it off so quickly. The repair of the astral body usually takes time, but she seems to have gotten her healing right away."
"Maybe it was because of the cremation," Jillian guessed. "She left strict instructions about that, and apparently she was right. The belly dancer outfit is probably from that past life where she served the goddess Astarte. Ethan, can she tell us anything about who killed her?"
"As I said last time, I don't usually get verbal messages, only pictures, and then they're often symbolic. Let me try." He closed his eyes again, rocking and breathing deeply for a while. "It's just like before. She's showing me a letter. But I do feel love and forgiveness radiating from her, even toward her killer. She must have been very evolved, not to hate the person and even to wish him well."
"That letter again," Jillian mused. "She's referring to the anonymous letters she got from the Angel of Death. It's those born-agains that vandalized the trailer, probably the ones that demonstrate at the metaphysical bookstore every Saturday. I've believed all along that they were the ones that killed her. Lyons won't check them out, since he's so convinced that Gary's the one. He doesn't want it to be anybody local. I've been thinking about infiltrating the group to find out for myself."
Ethan told her, "I don't think she'd want you to do that. She doesn't seem to care about punishing the instrument of her death. I just get the impression of a great joy at being free. Now, this is odd. She's carrying something that looks like a cake, and it has lighted sparklers on it--lots of them. Oh, it's a birthday cake, and she's offering pieces to us. Why would she be doing that?"
Jillian gasped. "It's her birthday today! August 10th is her birthday! She would have been 25, if she'd lived. It's amazing that the Full Moon is today, so we wound up doing this ritual, like a completion of her years on earth. Poor soul." A wave of sadness washed over her.
Ethan slipped back into a deeper state, almost as though he were being pulled. " Now Astarte's gone, and I'm seeing a man. He's middle aged, and he's got red hair. He's waving and blowing a kiss. It's for you, Jillian, and I get the most overwhelming feeling of love and pride from him. Who would that be?"
"For me? I wouldn't know. Maybe it's my guardian angel."
"He's not dressed like an angel--no robes. Actually, he looks a lot like you, now that I see him more clearly. He's moved in front of Robert, and he's pointing down at the altar at his feet. I get the sense that he's trying to give us his name."
Robert said, "I'm at the altar for the angel Michael. Could that be his name?"
Jillian was stunned. "My father? Michael was my father's
name. Could it be him? I never told you, Ethan, but he died when I
was ten. Could you really be in touch with someone who's been
dead that long?" Her heart welled up with joy and sorrow at the
same time.
His eyes closed, Ethan looked radiant. "He's never left you,
Jillian. I wish just for a moment you could have this gift and feel the
love that's coming from him." When he opened his eyes, an infinite
pain crossed his face. "You've suffered a terrible loss, I can tell, and
yet it must have been wonderful to have a father who loved you that
much."
She was swamped with emotions. Pity for Ethan. A wrenching
sense of loss over her father's death. A dizzying joy at knowing he still watched over her. A deep awe at the power that this ceremony had released. So much to feel, she thought, and so much to digest. There IS magic, and there ARE angels. I was appalled when they made us use the angels' names on the line, but now it feels like some kind of holy plan was at work. God, let my life be touched by this moment, and let it be changed.
After saying a prayer commending Astarte's spirit to the angel Gabriel and thanking their own angels for taking part, they stood in silent prayer a while, then ended with the same chant:
Eee Nu Rah Eee Nu Rah Eee Nu Rah Zay
Nah Raphael Su Nah Mik-ay-el Su Nah Uriel Su
Nah Gabriel Su
They put away the candles and other tools they'd used. Sitting in subdued quiet afterwards, they did instant replays on the ritual and how they perceived it.
In her recap of the ritual, Jillian said, "I've felt so guilty since Astarte died, thinking that I could have saved her if I spoke up about what was going on. Now I feel at peace, as though a great weight were lifted."
She thought, we may not know who Ethan was, but I do have a sense of who he will be in ten years or so. He'll be the brightest star on the metaphysical circuit--the Lynne Andrews or Marianne Williamson of the year 2005. He'll be surrounded by groupies who make a guru of him and base their lives on his teachings. I only hope he can keep that beautiful humility intact, so all that adulation won't warp him like it has so many guru wannabes.
She shook her head in wonder. "I forget sometimes, Ethan, that you're only 22 or thereabouts. I'm old enough to be your mother, if I'd had you at 18, but you teach me every day. Where on earth did you learn all of this?"
With his usual touching humility, he replied, "Most of it, I just seem to know somehow. Oh, I read a lot, but what I read usually just confirms what I knew anyway."
Robert rolled his eyes. "No joke, you read a lot--you went through our bookshelves like a cookie monster goes through cookies! And you've certainly plundered that study of Midge's!"
"It's a remarkable collection," Ethan told them. "It's like the reincarnation of the library that was burned at Alexandria. She has accounts with all the New Age publishers, and they automatically forward her every book they publish. I don't think she reads them, though--she just has this need to own them all."
"That's the mark of a Taurus with entirely too much money!" Not for the first time, Jillian wished she were on better terms with Midge. "I'd love to have access to that collection. When I first started studying astrology, there were maybe ten books on the subject, all old ones. Now there are dozens published every month, and it's easy to get behind. I know how doctors feel who can't keep up with the developments in their field."
They were startled by a knock at 12:15. They'd forgotten that Ralph would be coming for his lunch. When Robert unlocked the door, Ralph came in and sniffed. "What's that stench?"
Jillian thought, Oh, lord, sage smells a lot like pot! He'll blab all over town that we're smoking dope. "It's just incense, Ralph. It gets pretty close in here sometimes, now that it's summer." She opened the trailer door and fanned it to bring in some fresh air. If I told him what we were really doing, his stories would be even wilder!
He sniffed again, raised an eyebrow, and shook his head, not buying their excuse for a minute. Taking a few steps into the room, he looked around in puzzlement, then finally in fear and confusion. He swayed slightly, his eyes losing their focus. With a look of surprise, he fell to the floor in a faint.
They rushed to help him, Robert bringing him water, and Ethan propping him up. Jillian quickly called 911. He stirred and moaned something indistinguishable-something about legs.
A few minutes later, he was sitting up and insisting she cancel the ambulance. "It's nothing. The incense, that's all. I'm very allergic, what with my sinus trouble."
He looked uncomfortable and a little scared as he told them, "I know this is going to sound weird--and I'm not crazy. I've had my ups and downs, especially since Mom passed on, but I'm really not crazy. Just for a second there, I could swear I saw Miss Astarte waving at me, pretty as ever. It gave me such a turn." He shivered and wiped cold sweat from his brow.
He stood up unsteadily and brushed off his uniform. "It was probably just the heat. It's usually pretty cool here in the summer, but it's hot out there today. I'm all right now."
Jillian insisted, "Ralph, I wouldn't want you to drive after fainting like that. Let me call the post office and have them send someone to finish your route. One of us can take you home."
"No, no, I wouldn't want that on my record," he said anxiously. "They'd make me go for tests, and it was nothing, really. No, honestly, I'll go on. I'll skip lunch so I can go home early." He handed them the mail and left, despite their renewed protests.
They looked at each other in shock. Ethan said, "He saw Astarte! Can you believe it? I wouldn't have figured him for a sensitive. And he was saying something about legs--he must have felt her pain, too."
Robert agreed. "He probably has the gift and doesn't realize it."
Ethan said, "People in this country are so poorly educated about life after death. The nonwestern world knows all about the afterlife and how to help people who don't die well. This country is the only one that would put you away for seeing spirits. No wonder he didn't want his job hearing about this."
He shivered a bit. "You know, I've had the strangest, goose-bumpiest feelings about Ralph all along--something hidden, some weird energy around him--and it must have been because of this gift of his that's suppressed. That can make your energy pretty strange."
Jillian felt an unaccustomed pity. "Poor guy. He's all alone in the world and hasn't a soul to talk to about these things. If he opened his mouth about it at work, they probably would send him for a psychiatric evaluation! Do you think we should talk to him about his experience?"
Ethan considered, then shook his head. "No, it was clear that he was already pushing it away--too scary for him, or it wouldn't have caused him to faint. His abilities are probably one reason he's so involved in his church--a defense against knowing about these other levels of being. He's probably already convinced himself it never happened."
"It's sad, all the same," she said, resolving to be kinder to him.
That night, Jillian called Joan Cabot to tell her about the ritual and Ethan's perceptions of Astarte and about the healing of her legs. "She really seems happy. I could feel it, too, and I don't consider myself gifted that way."
Joan said, "Thank you so much for calling--and for doing the ceremony on her behalf. We were pretty down tonight, it being her birthday and all. Before she was killed, we had planned to hold a big celebration for her here in L.A. today, since it was her twenty-fifth and the trust fund was maturing."
Jillian couldn't help but feel a surge of envy about the trust fund, even knowing how Astarte had suffered. She told her, "It's so strange. She never once said anything about the fund, in the time I knew her."
"It was no big deal to her. We wanted her to buy a home with it or something, maybe there in Port Townsend, but she wasn't that interested in material things. We believe she'd have donated most of it to Guru Mab's ashram, so that's what we've decided to do with the money on her behalf. We need to work with George on that, since he's the administrator, but he's not returning our calls. Maybe he's on a trip."
She remembered that the Cabots didn't know about Astarte's pregnancy, but she couldn't bring herself to tell them. Not on this birthday--they'd had enough loss to contend with. Thinking about the connection Ethan had made with her father, she signed off by telling Joan, "It's hard to lose someone you love, even when you believe they're all right on the other side. I'll be thinking of you."