The open field was suddenly filled with dutiful young scavengers spreading out in all directions, meticulously uncovering various objects, natural and otherwise, berries, gourds, vines, rocks, twigs, discarded junk - in search of hidden signs and wonders. R.J. was in front as usual accompanied by the giddy twins, K.C. and J.B. and the ever-serious, somewhat silent Sarah beckoning upward to the sky as if soliciting an otherwise unscheduled celestial intervention. Murmurs could be heard from among the flock... "Here's a weird shape..." "This leaf is magical..." "Hey...there's a shape on these rocks..." "Listen for a voice..." "This glass-color is unprecedented!" "I think I may have something here...." "Look at my find..." "I feel a presence here." "A portal for the spirit..." R.J. was beside himself with glee. "Gather up anything that looks significant, my fellow prophets and seers..." he chortled, "however small it may seem, everything here is relevant and what we gather from this little 'harvest' of ours shall be used as evidence..." As if on cue, little groups hurried on into the adjoining woods, working themselves into a frenzy of delirium. Youthful shrieks, yelps, laughter, barking of orders and instructions, panting, out of breath explorers. Sarah meanwhile was walking in long deliberate steps around a strange crevice she had spotted, followed by her two "servants in waiting" as everyone called them, the dutiful twins. Everyone wanted to impress R.J. and Sarah. The twins were like quality-control inspectors overseeing the day's discoveries. "R.J. look at me. Look what I found." "R.J. I think I may have something here." "Sarah - uh - does this measure up?" And R.J. patiently having to remind the novices that it wasn't so much about the external findings as it was the honing of interior powers, the opening of the soul to the "hidden possibilities" The best action is receptivity...Gelassenheit... What's the goal other than that? Nothing left to do, nothing to be done. Better to avoid "conventional dronish chores" that lead to dead ends, that give rise to despair. The twins couldn't help staring at the spectacle of it all as it unfolded. What other club had this much fun? (Well perhaps many other clubs, indeed, but to those involved in this unusual foray, conventional ideas of "fun" and "recreation" were quite beside the point. The real question was: what other club had such "inklings" of "uncanniness" to fall back upon?) Sarah - the serious mystic - was clearly about to have one of her many revelations. Simon was due for some sort of communion with a higher dimension... R.J. was giggling at regular intervals while the twins kept him up-to-date on who was finding what. The old soul looked on half-amused, half-incredulous. So this was the prophecy club on one of its typical excursions. This was what people did on their free Saturdays to keep from falling into despair, to maintain their faith in the spiritual side of things, the only rule of the club being that one could not be a strict materialist. Belief in a higher dimension was the prime directive, emanating from a shared acknowledgement of the sacred hen-kai-pan. Inspecting the internal dynamics of this motley bunch, the old soul, more than the rest, had noted that about a third of the members were restless introverts or non-social climbers looking for a sense of belonging, another third had a romantic interest in metaphysics or the supernatural, and perhaps another fifteen percent were focused on finding an alternative to the drab mainstream; that left a strong remnant of a minority of true-believers also known as the "ascetics," "heavy thinkers" or "beliefniks" intent upon making the club a last-ditch bulwark and countervailing force to the relentless (or as some would say: already-victorious) onslaught of secular humanism in America; neither were they deterred in any respect from advancing this self-declared "radical agenda" against the Tide despite the freewheeling, carefree, sometimes whimsical tendencies of R.J., Katie-K. and the twins. The ascetic-minded members sought to demonstrably forego certain pleasures, to set themselves against the typical teenage stereotypes - to shun popular music, fast food, designer clothes, jewelry, electronic gadgetry or any indulgence that could link them with the vast majority. When the club had first started, the inner sanctum had spent long hours hammering away at a charter that everyone could agree upon. After much lobbying and parsing of various doctrines and quotations, it was Simon who came up with a line that took the others by surprise. "Our mission" he had said was "simply to rescue people from the hell of their own making on a case-by-case basis and thereby to fight against the materialist denial of the higher dimension as our ultimate destiny and goal." This pronouncement was seen as at once all-encompassing in a theological sense, but also specific enough to unite the members into a common mission. Despite the strange coalition and the uneasy tensions housed within, the club members were united in their shared perception of themselves as an embattled, somewhat marginalized, albeit growing institution. Their nemesis in all of this was the ever-expanding Free-Thinkers' Consortium - the yin to the Prophecy Club's yang - made up of the usual crew of atheists, agnostics, skeptics, naysayers, science geeks, mockers, poseurs, hedonists and disgruntled, embittered refugees from organized religion...The tension between the two factions had been rising gradually because of several incendiary incidents involving would-be prophets and seers on one side and activist skeptics on the other. F.G. was concerning about the escalating skirmishes; R.J. seemed to be excited by them. And of course, given his last encounter with Veronica - it was clear that he was being heavily recruited for some reason - perhaps to be a high-profile "convert" to the free-thinkers, perhaps to become a double agent of sorts, perhaps to be Veronique's special confidant. And would was to be made out of that last, unexpected, mysteriously silent display of affection she had left him with? It was clear he was having big doubts about the club about the people in the club, about everything surrounding the club - but something was keeping him loyal in a visceral way. He reflected back upon a conversation he'd had with one Simon on a windy November day. Simon was going on about the "horrors" of the past day's news cycle - executions by the drug cartels, gangs of pirates on the Liberian coast, human traffickers targeting women from Eastern Europe, elderly patients being locked in warehouses and forgotten, teenagers in Chicago being charged with murder and mayhem, children neglected or forced to work in seedy dens making high-end clothing... That's why I'm in this club, he said. To deal with the horror - the absolute terror of life on this planet. You really think it's that bad? I mean how much evil have you seen up close? Oh I've seen. I've seen too much. That's why I joined. What have you seen really? I am privy to some shocking information...Yeah?
The wildflowers on this particular day were intoxicating. The twins began collecting samples (violet, yellow and fuschia) holding them in bundles and leaving trails as they scampered, at this point, lost amid the charms of the endless blueberry field that seemed to extend eastward toward the shoreline and westward ended in woods and the horizon...The flowers became the focal point...many were commenting on the technical names for the specific colors, on the inner shapes of the flower petals, on the length of stems, on the textures and fragrant smells - as if these were part of a revelation they were yet to received. Only Sarah held back while the others tossed samples back and forth, laughing, trading, exchanging souvenirs. Sarah had that sudden serious look on her face such as oracles and dream interpreters assume during moments of irrevocable insight. She seemed bemused by the flower-gathering and yet her mind was elsewhere as if to say that all this was indeed child's play compared to what she and her unrelenting stare were focused on. She seemed to be staring into the distance as she spoke, looking briefly at Simon and then at no one in particular. It is better that I say this now, perhaps, while we are all gathered here...out in this, our sacred field, our hidden field...Many prophets in ages past were said to have disappeared for days at a time and to have communed with God or the higher powers, were said to have been taken by God for days, months or years at a time....And to some of you, although at first it may sound contrived, it has been disclosed to me that one of us will soon disappear for a time, but that we are not to grieve or panic, that this too shall yield a fruitful harvest of the sort that R.J. has been telling you about....One of us will what? - Yes...it is troubling to hear at first, but it shall of a certainty come to pass that one of you, one of us, rather, will be called to commune with the higher Spirit, for a time...only when this happens, you must not panic, nor shall you tell any adult person or go to the authorities, but this shall be...
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