(Tom Brady)

Three months after my start at the vet hospital found me walking down Ninth Street in Durham on a sunny spring day in April. I tried to make the rounds of Ninth Street at least once per month, not for any particular reason, but because it's a pleasant place to window-shop, relax, and maybe pick up a new book or CD. I started my tour at Earth and Spirit. I hadn't been there since before the Shadowlands, but as always, its collection of books was small and misguided, and they seemed to put more stock in jewelry than knowledge.

I looked over the other shoppers idly, wondering just how clued-in any of them might be. None of them really stood out, though one woman, a brunette in jeans and a light-colored blouse was looking over the latest books buying into the "angels" fad with a slight smirk. Looks like she at least have a clue. I shrugged and headed down to the Regulator Bookshop.

I always love the Regulators selection, not the least of which because they are the only bookstore in Durham which stocks any decent number of gay and lesbian books. They had a number of new books in, including a new one from that twit Bruce Bawer, and a new collection of strips from "The Mostly Unfabulous Life of Ethan Greene." I settled on getting the latest issue of The Advocate.

I made a brief stop by Poindexter Records to see if they had the new Nomad CD in (they didn't) and headed down to my last stop on Ninth Street, Francesca's Dessert Caffe. It was a busy place that day. I took my ice cream and latte and sat down at the last free table that someone had just vacated. I was just starting to read the letters section in The Advocate when I heard, "Excuse me...?"

I looked up to see the woman I had noted at Earth and Spirit, holding a cup of ice cream and a bag from The Regulator. "It seems they're sort of full here this morning. May I borrow a space at your table?"

I nodded. "Sure." I folded up the magazine and poked at my ice cream for a moment. I didn't particularly want company - usually I was perfectly content to be alone in a crowded room, as I had been up until now.

She looked uncomfortable for a minute, then brightened. "So, did you find anything you wanted at The Regulator?"

I glanced at her bag, indicating she had bought something there, and then remembered a flash of black hair behind me while I had been looking over the Ethan Greene book. "Just this." I held up the magazine I'd been reading. "You?"

"Just the new Babylon 5 book, In the Beginning." I stared at her blankly for a second, then remembered that Babylon 5 was a TV show that Dog had enjoyed watching. She continued, "I saw you in Earth and Spirit - pretty sad place, wasn't it? I don't think I'll be going back."

I nodded. "Disappointing, wasn't it?"

She leaned forward, setting down he ice cream. "Yes, it was. The sad part was that it had almost nothing of value. It was true new age material, no actual religious or serious spiritual works."

I nodded again. "I couldn't agree more; I just felt that I had to give it a chance."

"Me too. By the way, I'm Rachel Montgomery" she said, holding out her hand.

"Oh, I'm Reuben Cabot." I shook her hand, then took a sip of coffee.

She glanced out the window, then looked at me again. "I'm sorry. If I'm bugging you I'll shut up."

I liked her. Most people automatically assume that you want to talk to them. "No, that's all right, I just haven't been around many people lately."

"Neither have I. I came back to Durham after finishing Seminary, and most of my time has been involved with the church."

I raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. After I ended my connection with the Christian church those many years ago, I found that it was much better not to discuss religion, and especially not with strangers. Most people just couldn't get their minds around non-Christian ideas, so just assumed you were a nutcase. That made me wonder, though. "What were you looking for in Earth and Spirit?"

She shrugged. "I was just browsing, seeing if anything looked good. Nothing did."

I sighed. "I know, it was all so trivial."

"Exactly, but the really sad part is the less-than-trivial crap that these places sell, Especially in the Christian and Native American sections." An interesting association, I thought. She continued, "Pardon me for jumping on a soap box here, but I hate it when people put out all these books on the lost teachings of Jesus and the evil nature of Christianity but have no background to support what they say. For all we know, these guys could be whackos with a vivid imagination. Then there are the Native American rip-offs. Granted I'm not an expert on the subject, but I think that makes me more honest than most of the authors of those books. Most of the Religious studies professors in college used to say that these books were nothing more than someone inventing a spiritual belief and assigning it to a culture with which it has absolutely no relation."

Hmm. She had some good points. "I agree whole-heartedly." I thought for a moment, then decided to do a little fishing. "Then there is the lame shtick that they try to pass for magic."

She looked hesitant for a moment, then smiled. "Oh, yes. Most of the authors have no idea what true magick would be like if it hit them on the head and said, 'I am from a true Tradition.'"

'Tradition' indeed! I was starting to get suspicious, but went with the flow of the conversation. "The worst part is when a book is partially right, and gives the reader an idea of what magic can do, but without any preparation for how it must be done."

She put down her ice cream and said with intensity, "Well, there is the thought that getting the truth out to the masses is much more important than how you do it, especially if there are groups that want to deny the existence of any such phenomena. Though the Catholic Church was responsible for the inquisition and long sought to deny access to the bible to all but the clergy, the watchdogs of reality have since moved on to more modern fields, like business and politics."

'Watchdogs of reality'? She couldn't possibly be Technocracy - they would never be so foolish as to refer to themselves in a public place. I tried to dig a bit deeper. "But what I think is entertaining are the conspiracy theorists who believe that there are groups who are secretly running everything. Black helicopters and such."

She smiled. "Have you heard of Men in Black?"

That got me. I started to say something, then I remembered hearing about a film that had played while we had been...elsewhere. "The movie?"

She took a bite of her ice cream, then said, "Both."

Right then, I did what I should have done to begin with. I shifted my perception, and, not surprisingly, she had a goodly amount of quintessence stored up within her pattern. I looked around, and realized how many eavesdroppers could be around us. I stood up and said, "Well, why don't we take this conversation elsewhere, it looks like others could use the table."

She smiled thinly and said, "I agree, how about a walk in Duke Gardens, that's always nice and quiet."

As I drove the short trip to Duke Gardens, Rachel following, I mused over what tradition she might be. Given her religious references and affiliations, I decided that she was probably a Chorister. Great - one of the Traditions Forteau never really told me much about. Guess I'd have to learn as I went.

We chatted for several hours at the gardens. She seemed to be a freelancer, and boldly asked whether I was part of a cabal. I said no, not at the present time, and refrained from commenting on the other mages I knew in the area. We ended up swapping phone numbers and agreed to get together for lunch the following week.

This began a series of regular lunches, first with myself and Rachel, then Cab joined us. It turned out that Cab and Rachel really hit it off, and in the first week of May, Cab moved into the spare bedroom at Rachel's place.

© 1998 by Thomas Brady

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