CHAPTER FOUR

It took less than two hours of persuasion and empty promises to make Patrick agree halfheartedly that it would be okay for me to borrow his mother’s car. He conceded that he would not be happy coming along on the kind of girls-only day Mikki and I were planning. He agreed to put off the long-weekend idea until April.

The Cadillac was not my first choice, anyway. I had asked Fred about his car, but he had plans of his own for Friday. In any case, Fred was not so happy with me again. He said I neglected him as a friend whenever Patrick—or any other man I liked—was available. Sad but somewhat true. As soon as someone adds another day to my week, I plan to change all that.

I reached Mikki’s Upper West Side apartment in the state of terror that is normal for me when forced to drive in Manhattan. She was waiting outside in a brown leather coat, dark pants, and a jaunty felt beret on her salt-and-pepper head.

Mikki climbed into the passenger seat and quickly settled into the Cadillac’s lap of luxury. She stroked the leather with overt affection and told me to drive toward New Jersey.

“New Jersey? What kind of channeler lives in New Jersey?” I asked. “Is she channeling Jimmy Hoffa?”

“Of course not, that would be silly,” she said. “We’re going to Clupperville. It’s in the country, sort of. I have the directions. I hear it’s pretty.”

Once you get past the infamous oil refineries of northern Jersey, the state gradually looks and smells much better. The directions guided us through the ultra-quaint town of Clupperville and down a country road. We turned in at the roadside mailbox marked “Flanders,” where a severe-looking thirtyish woman stood browsing through the mail. I stopped the car and gave a friendly greeting.

“You’re Franz Schubert?”

I gave Mikki a thanks-a-lot, bigmouth look.

“I’m Liza Durbin, and this is Mikki Kloster.”

We climbed out of the car under the woman’s squint-eyed examination. She shoved a pile of mail in an armpit and offered a painfully firm handshake. She had an enormous nose with complicated nostrils. Her prematurely gray hair drooped down her back, a sure sign of New Age convictions. We walked together up the front porch and into the house.

It’s hard to say what was wrong with the house. The corners didn’t seem exactly square, and the floor and ceiling may have sloped just a tad. The furniture looked like it was dropped in place by a tornado, with a sofa facing a wall, a lone table with no chairs, and large pillows strewn randomly. The effect was disorienting, but that wasn’t the worst of it.

“What’s that smell?” I asked.

I immediately realized that this question was an extremely rude way to begin an acquaintance. Mikki discreetly covered her nose, but her eyes were watering.

“What smell?” Our hostess sniffed.

I caught myself before laughing. Considering the size of her nose and the vileness of the stench, she could hardly fail to notice it.

“I’ll tell Patty you’re here.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I assumed you were Patty Flanders.”

She gave me a pitying look. I thanked the gods that she was not Patty Flanders. On her way out, she plunked down a questionnaire on the one table and handed me a pen. Aside from the usual name, address, and everything else about me, I was expected to state why I was there and what I hoped for.

Franz Schubert is living in my body. My therapist made me come here. What else could I say?

The real Patty Flanders came in a few minutes later. She seemed like the normal one in this household. Classically pretty, mid-fifties, with short, strawberry-blond hair, wearing a flowing silk ensemble. Very Junior League, but Democrat.

“I’m so glad you could come. You’ve already met my dear friend Aries, I see.” Patty’s low, resonant voice warmed me inside. Franz felt a definite tickle. “Have you completed my questionnaire?”

“Yes, but I don’t think my HMO covers channeling.”

Aries disapproved of my crack. Patty chuckled as she took the questionnaire from my hand. She nodded several times as she read it.

“If you could just sign at the bottom,” she said. “It’s a standard release.”

“You mean, so you’re not responsible if I get eaten by a twelve-foot troll?”

“Don’t worry, dear.” She took the signed form and winked at me. “I haven’t lost a patient yet. I’ve asked Aries to bring tea for us. She’s baked something special.”

Aries emerged through the beaded curtain carrying a tray of herbal tea and health-food muffins made of twigs and pebbles. I had no appetite, anyway. I had spotted the source of the pervasive smell—little mounds on the floor suggesting untrained pups on the premises.

“I can see you’re uncomfortable, Liza,” Patty said. “I understand how enormous your new gift must seem to you. It was hard for me at first, too, my dear, but you’ll be grateful for it one day.”

“Let’s get started,” Aries said tartly.

The meditation room was in the back of the house. It had big windows covered by batik fabric, burning candles, a multitude of crystals, and, yes, the obligatory incense (which at least made it smell better than the living room). There were several chairs around an oak table, a Persian carpet, and strains of Enya calling to the spirits. The scene would have been too predictable except for the posters and photos everywhere celebrating one subject—dachshunds.

Miniature dachshunds, to be exact, posing in show stance. Miniature dachshunds playing fetch. Miniature dachshund puppies as big as my thumb and half as cute.

“Everyone comfortable?” Patty looked to us for consent. “Then I shall summon Zazer.”

“NO!” It was more a blurt than a yell and it came from Mikki. “Just to clarify, the reason we’re here is to allow you and Liza to share your feelings and experiences.”

Patty turned her full and obviously wise attention on me. She asked to hear about my gift.

“As you know, it’s Schubert. Franz Schubert,” I said. “He’s come to live in my body.”

“You are channeled by genius. You must have a wonderful old soul to be so blessed.”

“Well, I don’t know about channeling.”

“Your cynicism is a sign of a closed and simple mind,” Aries barged in. “You cannot possibly comprehend in whose presence you sit. If Patty is benevolent enough to speak to you through Zazer, you should feel honored to listen.”

“Aries, dear, please remember that Liza is new and tender,” Patty said. “Give her time.”

Patty then explained that she spoke best through her entity. She preferred to call on Zazer to share his wisdom.

“Couldn’t we first talk about everyday sort of things?” I said. “Like about living with another being inside you. How do you deal with that?”

“I thank Zazer every day for his presence, but it’s a lonely path, my dear. My husband didn’t understand, neither did my children. Even old friends could not accept this change in me.”

“So can I ask how you acquired Zazer in the first place?”

“The usual way.”

With that, Patty’s eyes rolled up behind her lids. She slumped in her chair, hummed through her nose, and swayed slowly.

“Channeling usually starts with a trance,” Mikki whispered to me.

Of course. The usual way.

Suddenly Zazer was among us, barking in the hideous yip-yip of tiny dogs. It was purely undignified behavior for Patty but apparently normal for Zazer. Mikki and I were speechless, and Franz was hissing in my ear. Aries took over.

“Zazer, we are honored to be in your presence,” she said.

“Blessings, my children. I greet you on behalf of my race and ancestors from Caninus IV in the Gamma Quadrant. We bring you the light, the love, the answers you seek.”

Patty had picked up a strange accent, part Hindu and part Yiddish.

“Throughout history you have searched the stars for our existence. You do scour your planet for proof, while all the time we are here. Your companions, your highest gods, we live in your homes and sleep at your feet. Yet your human prejudice does prevent you from seeing us.”

Patty drew up her legs to squat on the chair, then planted her hands between her feet. Aries patted her back with large worker’s hands. She had a Zazer tattoo on her wrist.

“You do not acknowledge our superiority, yet do you embrace us, care for us, shower love and affection upon us.” She scratched vigorously behind her right ear. “Would that you treated one another so well. Would that you recognized the gods among you and followed in our path.”

She let loose a pitiful wail, which sounded more like a tea kettle than the howl of a worthy hound. My heart went out to the dignified Patty of just a few minutes ago. At least my entity could do something presentable.

“For two thousand years have I set my example of love, loyalty, and trust. My first companion, my false disciple, embraced the message but did steal it for a jealous god.”

“There are more gods?” I wanted the whole bizarre spiel by then.

“Long did I dwell in Nazareth with Him, lived the mystery of the lost years at His side. The horrors of adolescence did I endure with Him, yet did I loyally guide Him to manhood.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I said.

That drew more wails from Zazer. Aries rebuked us with a look.

“Scoff not!” Patty yipped. “He stole our Word. My race is not a vain one, yet do we demand what is ours. The message is ours. Your reverence is our due!”

At this point, I squeezed Mikki’s hand as we both struggled not to laugh. Zazer growled.

“Though you do mock us, still do we love you. Witness as we share our blessings.”

Aries opened the back door on cue. We heard the patter of little paws. Soon we were swarmed by miniature dachshunds jumping on our calves and licking our ankles. They looked like Tootsie Rolls with legs.

Then I spotted Zazer on all fours. There was no more resemblance to Patty Flanders, and Zazer looked awfully ready to sniff my crotch.

“That’s it!” I shot up and jumped away from the table. “Time to go. You ready, Mikki?”

We yelled our good-byes as we ran to the car with a squad of little gods nipping at our heels. We should have watched our feet as we ran through the living room. As we drove off, Mikki said, “What’s that smell?”

Was ist das für ein Geruch? . . . What’s that smell?