She sat down on the bench opposite him and watched him eat. “Who told you about us, Mr. Quinn?”
“A man I hitched a ride with, he’s a hand on a ranch near here.”
“That sounds plausible.”
“It should. It’s true.”
“Where do you come from?”
“First or last?” Quinn said.
“Either, perhaps both.”
“I was born in Detroit and the last place I lived was Reno.”
“A wicked place, Reno.”
“At the moment I’m inclined to agree with you.”
Sister Blessing gave a little grunt of disapproval. “I assume that you were, as they say in the vernacular, taken to the cleaners?”
“Thoroughly.”
“Did you have a job in Reno?”
“I was a security officer at one of the clubs. Or a casino cop, however you want to put it. I still have a detective’s license in Nevada but it probably won’t be renewed.”
“You were fired from your job?”
“Let’s just say I was warned not to mix business with pleasure and I didn’t get the message in time.” Quinn started on the second sandwich. The bread was homemade and quite stale, but the cheese and ham were good and the butter sweet.
“How old are you, Mr. Quinn?”
“Thirty-five, thirty-six. Thirty-six, I guess.”
“Most men your age are at home with their wives and families, not skittering about the mountainside looking for a handout ... So you’re thirty-six. Now what? Are you going to start your life all over again, on a higher plane?”
Quinn stared at her across the table. “Look, Sister, I appreciate the food and hospitality, but I may as well make it clear that I’m not a candidate for conversion.”
“Dear me, I wasn’t thinking of that at all, Mr. Quinn. We don’t go out seeking converts. No, they come to us. When they weary of the world they come to us.”
“Then what happens?”
“We prepare them for their ascension of the Tower. There are five levels. The bottom one, where we all begin, is the earth level. The second is the level of the trees, the third mountains, the fourth sky, and fifth is the Tower of Heaven where the Master lives. I’ve never gotten beyond the third level myself. In fact” — she leaned confidentially toward Quinn, frowning — “I have some difficulty staying there, even.”
“Now why is that?”
“It’s because of the spiritual vibrations. I don’t feel them properly. Or when I do feel them it turns out there’s a jet plane overhead, or something’s exploded, and the vibrations aren’t spiritual at all. Once a tree fell, and I thought I was having the best vibrations ever. I was bitterly disappointed.”
Quinn attempted to look sympathetic. “That’s too bad.”
“Oh, you don’t really think so.”
“But I do.”
“No. I can tell. Skeptics always get a certain twist to their mouths.”
“I have a piece of ham caught in my front tooth.”
Before she covered her mouth with her hand, a little giggle escaped. She seemed flustered by the sound of it, as if it were a frivolous memento of the past she thought she’d left behind.
She got up and walked over to the icebox. “Shall I pour you some goat’s milk? It’s very nourishing.”
“No, thank you. A cup of coffee would be—”
“We never use stimulants.”
“Maybe you should try. Your vibrations might improve.”
“I must ask you to be more respectful, Mr. Quinn.”
“Sorry. The good food has made me a little light-headed.”
“Oh, it wasn’t that good.”
“I insist it was.”
“Well, I admit the cheese isn’t so bad. Brother Behold the Vision makes it from a secret recipe.”
“Please congratulate him for me.” Quinn rose, stretched, and concealed a yawn. “Now I’d better be on my way.”
“Where?”
“San Felice.”
“It’s almost fifty miles. How will you get there?”
“Walk back to the road and hitch another ride,”
“You won’t find many cars. Most people going to San Felice prefer to take the long way around, by the main highway. And once the sun goes down, cars aren’t so likely to stop for a hitchhiker, especially in the mountains. Also, the nights are very cold.”
Quinn studied her for a minute. “What’s on your mind, Sister?”
“Why, nothing. I mean, I’m concerned with your welfare. Alone in the mountains on a cold night, with no shelter, and wild animals roaming about—”
“What are you leading up to?”
“Well, it occurred to me,” she said carefully, “that we might find a simpler solution. Tomorrow morning Brother Crown of Thorns will probably be driving the truck to San Felice. Something’s gone wrong with our tractor and Brother Crown has to buy some new parts. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you rode along with him.”
“You’re very kind.”
“Nonsense,” she said with a frown, “it’s pure selfishness on my part. I don’t want to lie awake worrying about a tenderfoot wandering loose around the mountains... We have a storage shed you can sleep in. There’s a cot in it, and a couple of blankets.”
“Are you always this hospitable to strangers, Sister?”
“No, we’re not,” she said sharply. “We get thieves, vandals, drunkards. We handle them as they deserve.”
“How is it I get the royal treatment?”
“Oh, it’s not very royal, as you will find out when you try sleeping on that cot. But it’s the best we can offer.”
From somewhere nearby a gong began to ring.
“Prayers are over,” Sister Blessing said. For a few seconds she stood absolutely still, her right hand touching her forehead. “There. Well, we’d better get out of the kitchen now. Sister Contrition will be coming to start the fire for supper and it makes her nervous to have a stranger around.”
“What about the others?”
“Each Brother and Sister has a special task until sundown.”
“What I meant was, how do the others feel about having a stranger around?”
“You will be treated with courtesy, Mr. Quinn, to the extent that you display it yourself. Poor Sister Contrition has many problems, it might be wise to avoid her. It’s the schools. She has three children and the authorities keep insisting she send them to school. And what would they learn in school, I ask you, that the Master can’t teach them here if it’s fit to learn?”
“It’s a subject I’m not prepared to take sides on, Sister.”
“You know, for a minute when I first saw you, I thought you might be one of the school authorities.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You needn’t be,” Sister Blessing said brusquely. “They’re an officious, thick-headed lot. And the trouble they’ve caused poor Sister Contrition you wouldn’t believe. It’s no wonder she has as much difficulty with spiritual vibrations as I have.”
Quinn followed her outside. Brother Tongue of Prophets was dozing in his rocking chair under a madrone tree, little patches of sunlight glistening on his shaved head.
A short broad-shouldered woman came around the side of the building followed by a boy about eight, a girl a year or so older, and a young woman of sixteen or seventeen. They wore identical gray wool robes except that those of the two younger children reached just below the knees.
They went silently into the communal eating room, with only the young woman giving Quinn a brief questioning glance. Quinn returned the glance. The girl was pretty, with brilliant brown eyes and black wavy hair, but her skin was blotched with pimples.
“Sister Karma,” Sister Blessing said. “The poor girl has acne, no amount of prayer seems to help. Come along, and I’ll show you where you’re to sleep. You won’t be comfortable but then neither are we. Indulge the flesh, weaken the spirit. That’s what you’ve always done, no doubt?”