Charlie announced the formation of Inner Light, Inc., at the press conference heralding the publication of The Light Within You, which had been hurried into print while the action at the prison was still fresh in the public’s mind. At that conference, Charlie also announced that henceforth he would refer to himself as Gabriel Sun, a new name that would commemorate the death of the bandit Charlie Marsh and his rebirth as a bringer of light.
Charlie’s autobiography became an instant best-seller. It began in his deprived childhood, detailed the way poverty and abuse had made him a criminal, and explained how his experience with his Inner Light while saving Larry Merritt-and Warden Jeffrey Pulliams’s belief in him-had restored his faith in the goodness of man. Charlie told the attending media representatives how he looked forward to holding seminars in the cities on his book tour so he could help troubled people find their Inner Light. There would be a nominal fee for attendance but, Charlie promised, the benefits to an attendee’s personal and spiritual development would far outweigh the price of admission.
The seminars and the concessions that hawked Charlie’s book, CDs featuring Charlie’s words of wisdom, T-shirts, and other Inner Light paraphernalia produced a river of cash. Charlie had made a living swindling people out of their money, and he found a kindred spirit in Mickey Keys. The agent and his new client began sending the cash in the accounts of Inner Light, Inc., to secret bank accounts in Switzerland as quickly as it came in. Mickey, who had an accounting background, worked up a second set of books for the IRS, and Charlie and Mickey’s real financial picture looked very healthy even as it appeared to be anemic in their ledgers.
Charlie held his seminars at each stop on his book tour. They were attended by members of the middle class who longed to be wealthy and successful, and people with wealth who were troubled by their success. If the opportunity presented itself, he would fuck any rich woman who wished to purge her guilt by servicing an all-wise and dangerous ex-con. On occasion, he would have sex with one of the less well off groupies who hung around his book signings. That’s what he was doing after a very lucrative seminar at Yale University when he was startled in mid-thrust by Mickey Keys’s unannounced entry into his hotel bedroom.
“What the fuck!” Charlie shouted, furious at being interrupted. The coed he’d been banging was as delicious as a peach and as tight as a drum.
Keys ignored Charlie and turned on the television. “Watch this.”
“It better be great.”
“It’s better than great, Charlie. Now, pay attention.”
It was night on the screen. Flames could be seen flicking out of a few barred windows, and the spotlight of a police helicopter illuminated the prison grounds and the National Guard and state troopers massed before the high walls.
“Why did you need to interrupt the best fuck I’ve had all year to show me a prison? I’m trying to forget prison.”
“You’ll want to get reacquainted when you hear my idea. This is a shot of the Oregon State Penitentiary. Early this morning, a fight erupted between a Latino gang and members of the Aryan Brotherhood. When guards tried to intervene, several were taken hostage and the fight turned into a full-scale riot.”
“What’s your point?” Charlie whined, upset that his boner had begun to wilt.
“We’re going to Oregon, where you will offer your services as a negotiator to help end the insurrection at the prison.”
“Oregon? I don’t even know where the fuck that is.”
“The national press knows where it is. This is the lead story on every network and all the cable news shows.”
“Mickey, you don’t know squat about this kind of shit. The authorities aren’t going to let me anywhere near the prison.”
Mickey smiled. “That’s probably true but you’ll get tons of free publicity if they do. And if the governor won’t let you talk to the rioters, you look like a good guy who’s just trying to help. No matter how the riot ends, you come out smelling like a rose and you get tons of free air time.”
“What about the book tour?”
“I talked to your publisher. They agree that you should go. They’re already setting up a seminar at the home of a lawyer who published a book with them.”
Charlie lay back in bed. The coed was clutching a sheet to her chest and listening intently to the conversation.
“All right, when do we leave?”
“In about two hours.”
Charlie smiled at the girl. “That gives us enough time to finish what we started, sweet thing.
“Turn off the set and let me get back to my business,” Charlie told Keys.
The agent shook his head and left the room. Charlie felt under the sheets until he found a hot, soft place between the coed’s legs.
“I see you haven’t cooled down.”
The coed rolled over until she was breast-to-breast with Charlie.
“Fuck me hard, Charlie,” she whispered, “and when you’re done, take me with you to Oregon.”
“What?” Charlie said, pulling away a little.
A hand wrapped around his penis.
“I’m wasting my time in college. I’m so unhappy here. I want you to teach me the path to inner peace.”
Charlie wasn’t in the mood for a philosophical discussion. He also didn’t want this broad tagging along to Oregon, even if he had been sincere when he praised her sexual abilities to Mickey Keys.
“I hear you, sister, but…” Charlie started, when the soft, rhythmic motion of her hand made him forget what he was going to say.
“Please, Charlie, let me come. I’m smart. I can help, and there are other things I can do for you.”
Charlie knew he should say no, but the girl ducked beneath the sheets and the touch of her lips banished all knowledge of the English language from his brain.
CHAPTER 12
Dunthorpe was an affluent community on the outskirts of Portland, and Charlie’s seminar had been hosted in a Tudor mansion surrounded by several acres of lawn and trees. The mansion was bigger than some he’d been in since he’d become a celebrity and smaller than others. When he was in these penthouses, mansions, and estates, he felt like Alice in Wonderland. He was rich beyond his wildest dreams, but since he’d started holding his seminars he’d met people compared to whom he was a pauper. Where did all this money come from?
There was something else that seemed surreal. Charlie had grown up poor. There were evictions, there were times when there wasn’t enough food, and there was violence in his neighborhood and his life. He’d always thought that his problems would be solved if he were rich, but these people were rich and they looked to him for help in finding happiness. He didn’t get it.
Charlie was rarely alone during his year and a half in prison or the whirlwind his life had become since regaining his freedom, and he’d come to treasure the rare moments of peace and quiet he was able to salvage from his hectic existence. As soon as he finished signing copies of his book, Charlie slipped through the French windows in the library to get a breath of fresh air. There was a flower garden on the far side of the spacious lawn. Charlie wandered across the manicured grass in its direction. Delmar Epps, a muscular ex-heavyweight boxer Mickey Keys had hired, followed far enough behind to give Charlie the illusion of privacy and close enough to fulfill his duties as a bodyguard.
Everything had gone as Mickey had predicted. The authorities had refused to let Charlie be involved in the negotiations with the prisoners, so he shared none of the blame when two guards and several inmates died in a bloody shoot-out. Charlie was able to go on television and pontificate about the way things might have ended if he had been allowed to bring inner peace to the rebellious souls of the prisoners. As a result of the publicity, Charlie had packed the convention center for a citywide seminar that had brought in a tidy sum. They had also done well in Dunthorpe at this second seminar aimed at a more select audience.