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Ritual. Part 12

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'Believe me, she's not insane,' said Velma.

'Then why did she cut off her toes?' Charlie demanded. His voice was quivering now.

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Velma looked at him with an expression that was almost pitying. 'Why do you think she cut them off? To eat them, of course.'

As she said that, the door opened behind them. Charlie, already shocked at what Velma had told him, turned around in alarm.



Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the yellow radiance from the skylight in the hall, was M. Musette. He paused; and then he came forward so that Charlie could see his face. 'Well, Mr McLean,' he said. 'I don't know whether I ought to be happy to see you or not.'

Charlie cleared his throat. 'I don't care whether you're happy or not, pal. You and I have some talking to do.'

'Perhaps you're right,' said M. Musette. 'Velma, will you go to your room? I want to talk to you later.'

Velma pa.s.sed them by. As she did so, she glanced at Charlie quickly, and Charlie saw such an extraordinary mixture of fear and desire on her face that he couldn't help looking at M. Musette in complete consternation.

CHAPTER TEN.

Downstairs, in a drawing room with high leaded windows which overlooked the gardens, M. Musette sat back in a deeply cus.h.i.+oned armchair and crossed his immaculately pressed trouser legs and lit a cigarette. Charlie, sitting on the far side of the room, could hardly see him behind a circular antique table on which stood a huge pink and white ceramic planter crowded with hothouse camellias.

'I have to confess that what has happened has largely been my responsibility,' said M. Musette affably. 'I must ask your forgiveness, although I am sure you will find it easy to understand how the error was made.'

'Before you start giving me any explanations, I want to ask you one question,' Charlie interrupted. M. Musette, with a wave of his cigarette, indicated that Charlie could do whatever he wanted.

'Is my son here?' Charlie asked him. 'I want a straight answer, yes or no.'

'My dear sir, let me put it this way: n.o.body ever comes here except of their own free will. Therefore you must search in your heart and ask yourself whether it is likely that your son is here.'

'I said a straight answer, not a G.o.dd.a.m.ned riddle.'

M. Musette blew smoke, and smiled. 'Then I promise that I will answer you before you leave. But first, I want you to understand what is happening here, and why you should not be so fearful.'

'I'm not sure that I want to understand. Was it right what Velma was telling me - that girl actually ate her own toes?'

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'You're running ahead of me,' said M. Musette. 'You came here to find out more about the Celestines. Let me tell you about them.'

'Okay,' Charlie agreed. 'But don't take all day about it.'

M. Musette said, 'Do I have to remind you that you are trespa.s.sing on my property and on my time and that I am not obliged to say anything to you at all? It would be far easier for me to call for the sheriff and have you thrown out of here.'

Charlie didn't answer, but clasped his hands together and sat with his head bowed waiting for M. Musette to speak. M. Musette stood up, and walked across to the windows in a wafting cloud of Turkish cigarette smoke. He gazed out over the garden for a while, obviously calming himself, and then he said, 'The Celestines were orginally members of a religious order created in the year 1260 by Saint Celestine V, Pietro di Murrone. Celestine was elected Pope in 1294, after the two-year interregnum that followed the death of Nicholas V. He was a saintly man, but too politically weak for the duties demanded by the Papacy, and later the same year, he abdicated in the face of opposition from Cardinal Gaetano, who was to succeed him as Pope Boniface VIII.'

M. Musette paused, and inhaled smoke, and went on: 'The Celestines flourished during their founder's lifetime, and at their height they had over 150 houses throughout Europe. But at the time of the French Revolution they declined, and many of the French members of the order fled abroad, some to England and some to the Caribbean. It was on the Caribbean island of Sainte Desiree that the remnants of Saint Celestine's devotees were transformed into the predecessors of the present-day Celestines.'

M. Musette turned, and watched Charlie carefully as he spoke. 'What happened was a remarkable mixing of two cultures. Sainte Desiree is a wild and desolate island about fifteen miles off the coast of Guadeloupe. Its sole inhabitants before the exiled Celestines arrived were native fishermen, who barely 127.

managed to make a living out of their labours. The fishermen, however, were Caribs, members of that fierce and alarming tribe who before the days of Columbus had indulged themselves in orgies of cannibalism. By the time the Celestines reached Sainte Desiree, their ritual eating of human flesh had long since died out; but somehow, they were inspired by the religious enthusiasm of the new arrivals to revive it. There were close similarities, you see, between the ritual of the Holy Communion, with its eating of the Lord's flesh and the drinking of the Lord's blood, and the eating of human beings which had once been the Caribs' speciality.'

Charlie kept his head lowered, but the feeling that was beginning to penetrate his consciousness was one of extreme dread. He felt almost as if he were being lowered against his will into a bath of chilly water; helpless to resist.

'It is quite extraordinary how cultures can intermingle,' said M. Musette. 'There are natives in New Guinea who wors.h.i.+p aeroplanes as G.o.ds, because their only experience of them is to see them flying high overhead. There are many pagan rituals inextricably woven into the so-called Christian calendar. The very day on which we say we are celebrating the birth of Christ our Lord was in reality one of the darkest and most magical days of rejoicing in the times of the Druids. What happened to the Celestines as they lived in isolation on Sainte Desiree with the Caribs was that they came to believe that true communion with G.o.d could only be consummated by the eating of human flesh and the drinking of human blood.'

Charlie looked up. 'Is this true? Is this authentic history, or are you putting me on?'

'Do you think I would waste my valuable time playing practical jokes?' M. Musette retorted. 'I am talking about the achievement of oneness with G.o.d, and complete oneness with your fellow human beings. Does that sound like a put-on, as you call it?'

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Charlie said tautly, 'Go on.'

M. Musette crushed out his cigarette in a large crystal ashtray. 'Over a period of 150 years, generation after generation, the Celestine Order gradually evolved into what it is today.'

'And what is it today? A club for well-heeled cannibals?' 'Cannibalism is a word we prefer not to use; even though it describes us aptly. The word 'cannibal', after all, is derived from Canibales, which is the Spanish variant of the name Caribs. Cannibalism also implies that we are involved in the violent or forceful eating of the sacred flesh. While the Caribs often murdered their enemies and sometimes their friends in order to make a meal of them, the Celestines introduced to them the Christian principle that thou shalt not kill. Instead, the eating of the sacred flesh became a self-sacrificial communion, in accord with the very highest tenets of Christianity.'

Charlie stared at M. Musette in complete horror. He was at last beginning to realize that he was being told the truth - that M. Musette in all seriousness was explaining to him that the Celestines really did eat human flesh.

Unperturbed, M. Musette went on, 'Did not Jesus say, "Take, eat, this is My body"? And did he not say, "Drink . .. for this is My blood of the new testament"'? The whole essence of Christianity is concerned with the sharing of flesh and blood. Not murderously, of course, but voluntarily - the devoted giving of one's body for the greater glory of all. That girl you saw upstairs - as Velma told you, she is a new Devotee. So far she has amputated only her toes.'

'And eaten them?' Charlie asked, his throat constricted. 'Only five of them. The rest she shared with her Guide and with other Devotees.' M. Musette pressed his hands together as if he were saying grace. 'A small and simple meal, but one of tremendous emotional and religious significance as far as she is concerned.'

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Charlie said, 'I'm sorry, I'm finding it difficult to believe what I'm hearing. I cannot even begin to comprehend how a pretty young girl like that can voluntarily mutilate herself and eat her own flesh. Not for the greatest religious cause known to man. Not for any reason whatsoever. It's barbaric.'

M. Musette shook his head. 'Barbaric? No. It is the most highly developed act of religious devotion that I can think of. It demands the greatest degree of devotion to G.o.d that you can possibly imagine. It shows in real terms the conquest of the spirit over the flesh. To devour the very body that G.o.d gave you is the closest that you can ever get to true holiness.'

'You're out of your tree,' said Charlie. He stood up, and his legs felt as if they were about to fold up like a cheap camera tripod. 'All I want to hear from you is that Martin isn't here, and then I'm going to go straight to the police. You ought to be locked up. Jesus Christ, I don't know how you've gotten away with it for so long. And so openly!'

'The reason is quite simple,' said M. Musette. 'While it may be against the law to eat the flesh of others against their will, it is not against the law to eat yourself; neither is it against the law to eat the flesh of another person if that flesh is offered without any form of coercion. We have had the status of a religion for nearly eighty years now, and while the law may not approve of what we are doing, they know that they cannot touch us. We live with the law in relative harmony. They do not hara.s.s us, and we in turn carry out our rituals as discreetly as possible. As you yourself know, we do not exactly encourage visitors.'

'But you present this place as a restaurant,'' Charlie said.

'As a dining society, rather than a restaurant,' M. Musette corrected him. 'In that way, we do not arouse the unwelcome attention of those G.o.dless media people in whose eyes every religious sect is a target for scandalous expose. In order to perform our rituals, we require much of the apparatus and many of the supplies that would be used by a dining society, 130.

and so to present to the outside world the image of a restaurant is useful camouflage. The name Le Reposoir was carefully chosen because it has two different meanings - one for our devotees and one for the outside world. Le Reposoir means 'the resting place'; but it also means 'the little altar'.

'Then the police know about this place? They know what you do? And they haven't taken any action to stop you?'

'My dear sir, the whole surrounding community is aware that there is something special about Le Reposoir. Many consider us frightening; at least until they have the opportunity to see for themselves the true significance of our rituals. I suppose you could say that there is a parallel with World War Two, when many German citizens living close to concentration camps were aware that there was something of great drama happening in their district, but preferred on the whole not to investigate too closely. Of all creatures, man is the most incurious, believe me.'

Charlie said, 'Haxalt knows, doesn't he? The president of the savings bank?'

M. Musette nodded. 'Almost all of those with senior civic positions in Alien's Corners are aware of what we are, and what we do.'

'Because many of their sons and daughters have joined us. Because many of them have joined us. There are fifty-eight Devotees here at the moment; some of them are the children of families whose names you would recognize. Others may not have come to us from such celebrated homes, but their parents nonetheless have considerable influence in the community.'

Charlie slowly rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension. 'Is Haxalt a Devotee? He's not eating himself, is he?'

M. Musette smiled. 'There are two levels of Devotion. There are the Devotees, those who attain spiritual perfection through self-ingestion. Then there are the Guides, who partic.i.p.ate in the rituals by eating the flesh of the Devotees - only, of course, when that flesh is freely and openly offered. The Guides are both mentors and servants to the Devotees. They must a.s.sist them to reach spiritual perfection by discussing the scriptures with them; they must also do anything that the Devotees ask of them, no matter what. To give you an example, we had a Devotee in New Orleans who fell in love with his Guide, who was a woman. A very striking woman, I might tell you, a real Cajun beauty. One day the Devotee demanded that she take out his eyes and eat them, so that he would no longer be tempted by her looks.'

'You're telling me this to frighten me off,' Charlie said, 'I don't believe any of it.'

'Well, believe whatever you wish,' said M. Musette.

Charlie hesitated, and then asked, 'Did she?'

'I'm sorry?' said M. Musette, his head on one side.

'Did she eat his eyeb.a.l.l.s?'

'Oh, that! You must use your own imagination. But I have been told that there is something very special about the human eyeball, especially when it has been freshly gouged out, and snipped quickly from its optic nerve. You can do it with very little pain indeed, provided you are careful; and I understand that there is no sensation on earth like biting into an eyeball when the optic fluid inside is still warm from its living owner ... Ha! Do you think I'm trying to frighten you now? Maybe I am. Maybe, rather, your own inhibitions are frightening you. You eat other animals, don't you? You eat slices of cattle and lumps of lamb. Why should there be any difference when it comes to humans? Especially when you think that those cattle and those sheep and those pigs that you eat - you aren't Jewish, are you? - are all murdered, so to speak. None of them would volunteer to be eaten if they had the choice. Whereas the humans who are eaten here are eaten because they want to be, of their own free will. Isn't that far more moral?'

Charlie said, 'I've heard enough of this garbage. I want you to tell me if my son is here, and that's all.'

132.

M. Musette lifted both hands. There was a gold ring on his right middle finger in the shape of two snakes, entwined, with emeralds for eyes. 'You are like most Americans, I regret,' he said smiling. 'You have no sense of humour whatsoever.' 'I can laugh when something's funny. This isn't funny.' 'Very well,' said M. Musette. 'I appreciate your anxiety. Your son is here. He came here early this morning of his own free will, and asked whether he might be initiated into the order of the Celestines.'

Charlie had been almost certain that Martin couldn't have been here - not after all that fantastic nonsense about people eating themselves. He was so shocked when M. Musette casually admitted that he was that for one fragmented moment he was unable to think of anything to say. He stared at M. Musette with one clenched fist held tightly against his chest. Then he managed to say, 'You'd better show me where he is, and pretty d.a.m.n quick.'

'He did ask that you should be kept away,' said M. Musette. 'At least until he's had time to settle himself in.'

'You're crazy! This is kidnap! This is a capital offence! Now you show me where my son is or else I'm going to be doing some damage around here!'

'Please, Mr McLean, keep calm. Losing your temper isn't going to solve anything.'

Charlie seized hold of M. Musette's lapels and tugged him forward until their noses were almost touching. 'You show me where my son is right now or else I'm going to break your arms.'

M. Musette said quietly, 'I don't think so,' and grasped Charlie's wrists. With almost no effort at all, he prised Charlie's hands away from his coat, and lowered them. Then he fastidiously brushed his lapels and gave Charlie a nod that was more of a warning than an acknowledgement of what he had done.

Charlie was breathing deeply. 'Let me get this straight. Martin came to you of his own free will?'

133.

'That's what I said.'

'How did he get here? He doesn't have any transportation.' 'He arrived by taxi at about midnight last night. He paid the fare out of his own money. He was unaccompanied, so there was no possible question of kidnap. I talked to him myself when he arrived. He said that he had decided to join us, and that he was prepared to become one of our Devotees.' 'And what did you do?' snarled Charlie. 'Give him a knife and fork and tell him to get on with it?'

'As a matter of fact, my dear sir, I tried very hard to dissuade him from becoming a Devotee. I always do when I am approached by volunteers. I explain that it is a difficult and painful road to heaven, a road that is often beset by terrible doubts, and which can bring despair as well as ecstasy.'

Charlie said, 'He listens to rock music and reads comic-books. How the h.e.l.l was he supposed to understand anything like that?'

'Your son is far more perceptive than you think. He sees you and your weaknesses quite clearly. For himself, he wants something better.'

'Cutting your own toes off and eating them is better? What kind of a c.o.c.kamamie crock of s.h.i.+t is that?'

'Just listen to yourself,' M. Musette said. 'Listen to the sound of your own voice. You are a man of impulse and vulgarity, a man with no spirituality whatsoever. You have spent your whole life in the empty pursuit of something you can never find, which is yourself. Those endless meals you eat, those endless miles you drive, you are looking for something which you left behind with your wife and your son. Your soul is what I am talking about, Mr McLean. Your spirit.' He paused briefly, and then he said, 'Your son came here because he didn't want the same fate to befall him. He has accompanied you on your travels for only a few days, but he has already seen the tragedy of your life. It was you who 134.

precipitated his decision to come here, not I, nor any of my Devotees.'

'This is bull,' Charlie retorted. 'If it hadn't been for Harriet Greene and that d.a.m.ned dwarf of yours, he never would have known about Le Reposoir.'

'Oh yes, dearest Harriet,' said M. Musette. 'Harriet has wanted to join us ever since I first employed her as a waitress. A little too enthusiastic, I'm afraid; a little too talkative. She never should have mentioned our name. And of course David was waiting to collect her from the Iron Kettle and bring her here. He couldn't help noticing such an obvious candidate as Martin.'

'Who's David?' Charlie demanded.

'The one you call the dwarf. David was a Devotee, too; but at the very height of his initiation, he decided that he could no longer continue. It was impossible for him to return to the outside world, of course; but to atone for his lack of faith he acts as our gofer. His punishment for doubting the reality of heaven is the lifelong humiliation of having to live in that part of his body which he denied to the Lord.'

'And Velma? You got me involved with Velma deliberately, didn't you, so that Martin would have time to escape?'

'n.o.body obliged you to get involved with Velma, Mr McLean. You did it of your own free will. You put the beastly desires of the flesh before your spiritual involvement with your son, and that is why he left you. If you had stayed with him that night, then the chances are that you could have convinced him that you are not the man he perceives you to be. You might have won his heart for ever. As it is ... he is here now, and he is preparing himself for a physical and spiritual journey whose end is glory.'

'Take me to him, now,' said Charlie. 'This is your last warning.'

'He has no wish to see you.'

'I don't give a d.a.m.n. He's my son, he's a minor, and I'm 135.

legally responsible for him. I'm taking him away with me, and what's more I'm going to make sure your a.s.s is thrown straight into jail, for kidnap, and unlawful imprisonment, and unnatural practices, and anything else that the law can throw at you.'

M. Musette laughed out loud. 'Very well, you can see him if you want to. What else can I do, but bow to such a terrifying threat? Let me call my wife, she will take you.'

He went across to a rococo-styled telephone and picked it up. 'Aimee, this is Edouard. Yes, that's correct. I have Mr McLean with me, and Mr McLean is anxious to see Martin before he leaves.'

M. Musette's familiar use of Martin's Christian name was not lost on Charlie. Nor was the implication that Charlie would be leaving alone.

'My wife will be with you directly,' said M. Musette. 'I hope very much that you will not be excessively angry with us, my dear sir. Our beliefs are deeply rooted, and tenaciously held, but we always do our very best to live in peace with those who do not revere the body and blood in the same way that we do.'

He opened his case and took out another cigarette. Charlie watched him in fascination and loathing. M. Musette seemed so single-minded, his view of the world seemed so complete; and Charlie felt that M. Musette had tipped open his brain like a worn out carpetbag cluttered with fear and prejudice and stubborn odds and ends. M. Musette lit his cigarette placidly, and returned Charlie's grim stare with the most courteous of smiles.

After a minute or two, the doors opened, and Mme Musette stepped into the room. Charlie had been right. She was indeed the beautiful fingerless woman in the black cloak. Now, however, she was wearing a watered silk day dress in misty blue, and she looked even more beautiful than before. Her eyes were startlingly wide; her skin glowed; her lips were infini-tesimally parted in unconscious sensuality. All that betrayed 136.

her involvement with the Celestines was the gloves she wore: wrist-length cotton gloves in blue to match her dress.

'Mr McLean,' she said softly, and inclined her head. 'Our security people have found your car. If you will let me have the keys, they will return it to the front entrance for you, so that you may leave here in comfort.'

Charlie reached into his pocket and handed over his keys. 'Just don't be too anxious to get rid of me, Mme Musette. I'm not leaving here without my son.'

'Well, we shall see,' she said. 'Would you care to come with me? Your son is upstairs, where all our new Devotees stay.'

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