CHAPTER 19
Two Kauai police officers were stationed at each exit of the hotel auditorium. The door that David the Illusionist, during his frenzy, chose to run out through was an emergency exit. A deafening siren began to wail. People panicked and stampeded out of every available exit. The house lights were turned on in the ballroom revealing a smiling Madam Wu confidently parting two panels in the scrim and walking through it to the front of the hardwood stage on which she had earlier fallen to her death.
The psychic walked over to the upturned table with its flaming tablecloth and picked up the undamaged vase. She pulled out the flowers and poured the water on to the flames, partially extinguishing the fire. As she did so, the sprinkling system kicked in and jets of water squired down from the ceiling. She laughed out loud as she ran over to the open arms of her waiting husband.
Brother Francis, often seen as a wisdom figure, was lost for words. Too much was happening. Some of it was sad, some of it happy, and some of it hard to piece together.
David was in handcuffs and being escorted to a waiting police car. A reporter from The Garden Island newspaper, who was at the hotel to review David’s latest illusion, was busy snapping photos and talking at rapid speed into a hand-held recording device.
Mister Wu introduced his wife to Brother Francis. The monk recognized her but could not remember from where. She smiled knowingly.
“Let’s go outside to get out of the rain and I’ll tell you where we met, Brother.”
They exited through the door that David the Illusionist had earlier escaped into the arms of the waiting police officers through. People stood around in small groups trying to put the puzzle pieces together. They stared at the trio leaving the building. Then someone shouted: “It’s Madam Wu. She’s truly returned from the grave!”
Some people cheered, others screamed, and several people fainted.
“I fear that we are creating a stir. Perhaps it would be best to talk in our room,” the almost always serene woman said.
The gentlemen agreed and they walked in silence along the outside of the auditorium, through the open-air lobby, and into the main part of the hotel. The man behind the reception desk stared open-mouthed.
“This is getting to be a bit much,” Madam Wu mumbled. “Let’s go directly to the room.”
They were in the Wu hotel room in a matter of minutes even though the little trip felt much longer. After they had dried themselves off with bath towels and sat down, the psychic explained things.
“We met at George’s—I mean Brother Benedict’s--Simple Profession of vows some years ago. You received the vows and had lots to do that day so I’m sure it is difficult to remember the several hundred people who crowded into that little country parish church you used for the ceremony.”
“I remember your beautiful eyes,” the monk stated from his reverie. “You and Brother Benedict were going together and eventually released one another so that you could each follow the path you believed God was calling you to, correct?”
“Exactly so, Brother. He had been through enough in his first marriage and probably would have been better off in the monastic life years before we met.
“I had the good pleasure of visiting your little monastery once again very recently.”
“Really Madam Wu? I don’t remember the visit.”
“You weren’t there. You were here. It was just a few days ago—while I was dead, so to speak.”
“Did you get to visit with Brother Benedict before he died?”
“Yes Brother, I did. I was praying Vespers, Evening Prayer, for and with him because he was so weak that he could barely pick up his Office book and read the psalms and other prayers making up that service. As I was concluding I knew that he had passed over. I rang the call bell by his bedside and a nurse’s aid came in. She materialized a doctor who pronounced him dead.”
Brother Francis was moved with deep emotion. He had been torn between returning to the mainland for the funeral or staying put to complete his business here on the Island. Beyond that, he had even been torn between going on this trip in the first place or staying with Brother Benedict. In the end he knew that life must go on and that the future was unpredictable—unless you were Madam Wu that is!
Mister Wu sat quietly, grateful that their ordeal was just about over. He got up and poured them each a large glass of sparkling water and then returned to the low lime green chair he had vacated a few minutes before.
“I believe in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, but how did you come back to life, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all, dear Abbot. You see, I was performing here about a week ago. It seems like a lifetime ago. Anyway, during my trance I saw that someone was going to attack me and try to kill me. It overwhelmed me and I fainted.
“After I was carried back here to my room and made comfortable, the police left and my husband went for a brief walk along the beach, for maybe ten minutes or so. It was during that time that my premonition came to pass. Because I fainted prior to seeing my attacker I did not know who it would be. My gifts do what they want. I’m not in charge.
“David the Illusionist tapped on the sliding glass patio door and, still dazed, I let him in thinking he was there to support me in some fashion. He picked up a paperweight and clobbered me with it. I was knocked out but not killed. When my husband returned he revived me and called the police again.”
Mister Wu stifled a moan.
“Now Tian, please don’t continue to blame yourself. We all thought the situation was well in hand when you took your brief walk.”
“I know, I know.”
“We did not know David’s motivation for the attack, though I had a theory. We wanted him to confess and hopefully that’s what he is doing right about now. The police had me write a letter to Tian about my premonition that he would supposedly find after my death.
“We banked on David’s ego getting in the way of clear thinking. I was certain he would pull some kind of stunt related to my death. That was a premonition of sorts.
“Did you ever suspect that the police are not really much into premonitions, Brother?” She gave an impish grin.
“I left the Island and visited the Salesian Monastery in Pennsylvania, returning when David had designed his greatest illusion—resurrecting me from the grave.
“The woman who was to play me in the scene was told about our little scam just before show time. I took her place behind the scrim. When David realized that it was really me he simply had a meltdown.”
“The police will probably book him for attempted murder,” Brother Francis added. “Pride cometh before the fall, as the Bible says.”
Mister Wu mentioned that they still had no clear picture of David’s motivation for attempting to kill Madam Wu.
“In all my years practicing clinical psychology,” the monk responded, “most crimes of passion, and just plain stupid thinking and stupid choices, are related to the ego somehow.”
“Please tell us more,” Mister Wu asked.
“When we are overly concerned about what others think of us, it draws qi—vitality—away from the issue at hand. That could be a decision about a job, a marriage, purchasing some article, just about anything. Our judgment gets clouded and we make choices based more on how we will look in the eyes of others rather than on the practicality of the actual choice.”
“I’ve seen it often, Brother. Please continue,” Madam Wu prompted.
“Sometimes the ego manifests itself in the form of jealousy or insecurity. We can actually begin to hate others because they have something we don’t have. It could be a material thing such as a super duper car, but more likely than not the hatred can be provoked by a boyfriend or girlfriend someone wants and another person has, so to speak.
“We all struggle with the ego to some extent but when it gets out of control, a person may even murder someone.”
Brother Francis made that statement before he realized just how relevant it was. The three people sat in stunned silence for a few moments. A quiet little drip from the bathroom sink seemed to tick away the seconds hypnotically as each person pondered the situation.
“My prayer is that David confesses that he tried to kill me. Then he may be able to get the help he needs. If he doesn’t confess, it’s simply his word against mine.” Madam Wu looked a little worried.
The ringing of the telephone startled the trio. Mister Wu answered and returned to his companions with a sad look on his face.
“That was the police station. They said that David denies attempting to murder you. They are holding him on inciting a riot because he created a panic tonight in the auditorium. He will probably be out by morning. The wanted us to know for our protection.”
Brother Francis promised to support the Wu’s in any way possible, said a little prayer for peace with them, and returned to his room.