The Answer to Everything (13 page)

We talked a bit about his illness. Phil was pleased that the outcome of the exploratory surgery was relatively positive. There had been some question as to whether his cancer was too far gone for him to even receive treatment. If it had spread to his liver, for example, he would have had to manage the cancer instead of attempt to eradicate it. Now, even though it was more advanced and widespread than the doctors had hoped, Phil was at least eligible for surgery to remove the various tumours. But because there were only a handful of surgeons in Canada who were trained to do the finicky procedure he required, Phil had been told that he would have to wait two months. Of course, the rich don’t wait two months or any months. Phil promptly booked himself the surgery at
Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center and a suite at the St. Regis for the four weeks of post-op recovery. Eldrich offered to go along, but Phil said he had friends in New York who would rally around him, one of whom promised to find a hunky male nurse to come to the hotel every day.

“But maybe you could house-sit for me while I’m gone?”

“As you wish,” said Eldrich.

I wanted it to be me. I wanted it to be me. “I could mow your lawn,” I said with a hint of lewd, as if I had instead volunteered to ream his ass.

He laughed. “Here’s a guy who obviously hasn’t seen my lawn!”

“That’s a good idea,” said Eldrich. “It’s too nice to stay inside. Today is a gift. And vitamin D is important.”

“What about my wrinkles?” squealed Phil in mock protest, allowing himself to be led like a child by the hand to the backyard.

And then I understood. Here was where the grandeur of the house lay. This was where the Singaporean hotel and bank money had come to roost—in the impossibly vast ravine lot that extended back forever to the edge of an actual wood (or 690 feet to the periphery of Wilket Creek, according to Phil), where a massive old oak stood like a sentinel.

“Holy crap!” I said, gobsmacked. “This is incredible.”

We had walked out onto a large, furnished deck with two separate seating areas, a wood-burning pizza oven and the Bugatti Royale of barbecues—a stainless-steel corner unit flanked by beer fridge and ice machine. The deck led down to a wide expanse of lawn and garden—beyond which lay a
swimming pool and cabana, then more lawn—before angling off to one side, toward a giant tennis bubble, then even more lawn and finally, finally the woods. It was an oasis. A paradise. All shielded from neighbours by a natural fence of thick, tall evergreens. A secret, magical place.

“Still want to mow my lawn?” Phil giggled.

In answer, I bolted onto the grass and, stirred by fine weather and the open stretch of green, turned my first cartwheel in about twenty years. I ended up on my back, staring at the sky.

“Handsome, don’t hurt yourself!” Phil laughed.

Eldrich vaulted over me, like a hurdler, and bounded, long-legged and gawky, toward the pool, where he began to strip off his clothes.

“Your pool is still filled?” I said, moving toward the blue shimmer.

“Open all year,” said Phil. “I heat it to eighty-four in the winter and swim when it’s snowing.

I was equally appalled and enthralled by this information. Here I was turning off lights when I left a room.

Eldrich leaped into the water, and I contemplated doing the same until I saw his thickly skid-marked undies lying on the ground. I kicked them out of sight, and then chose a highly designed padded lounger to recline upon. The fabric was warm and smelled toasty. Phil shuffled over and stretched out on the chair beside me.

“You’re not going to swim?” he said.

“Are you?”

“No. No energy.”

We were quiet for a few minutes, feeling the sun, watching Eldrich dart back and forth under water. A regular Johnny Weissmuller.

“Mmm,” said Phil, enjoying the warmth. He doffed his cap and unwound the scarf from his neck.

“You a tennis player?” I gestured to the white dome near the end of the yard.

“No. That was there when I bought. I’m going to have it removed.”

“Really? You should try playing. When you feel better. It’s a great game.”

“I took lessons when I moved in. I don’t like it. The court is all in horrible condition.”

“Mind if I have a look?”

“Go ahead. I’m going to dig it out next spring. I like basketball. Maybe I’ll put in basketball courts.”

“You play basketball?” It was amusing to imagine.

“I’m good at basketball! I could beat you, handsome!”

“Them’s fightin’ words, Phil.”

“I’ve been playing since I was little.”

“You’re still little.”

Phil mock-punched my arm. “I’m five feet three inches! Muggsy Bogues is five feet three inches!”

“All right, Muggsy. You and me next spring.”

“Next spring,” said Phil with a wistful sigh.

“You’ll be fine,” I said, patting his leg and getting up. I went to check out the tennis court. Phil wasn’t lying. It was in awful shape. The surface was cracked beyond repair and resembled a dried-up riverbed. Countless gangly weeds sprouted from
hundreds of asphalt vaginas. The nets had been taken down and heaped in the corner. It was just a big open space. A big, entirely unused space, one with a skylight and a bar fridge and a two-piece bathroom attached to the entrance.

Perfect.

A wave of excitement fizzed through me as I headed back to the pool, cartwheeling my way across the long, long lawn.

It was around then that everything moved up to Elderbrook. Initially, it was to accommodate Phil, who was suffering from a rare form of stomach cancer. Our third gathering was scheduled to take place on a Saturday in late November, which was the day before Phil was flying to the US to have surgery at a private hospital. Eldrich had a plan for his send-off—a mass “laying on of hands” that was supposed to convey healing powers from the group. It sounds loopy, I know, but Phil was into it. He just didn’t like the idea of having to head to Eldrich’s cramped apartment just before his trip, so John suggested that the meeting be held at his house instead. I was all for it because I wanted to check out his place. John, who had already flirted his way into Phil’s luxe life, had been going on about how amazing it was. So I was curious. And even though I sort of knew what to expect, I was surprised when I saw it. The home itself was lovely—not a mansion but wonderfully spacious, and appointed with all the best high-end features and finishes. The lot was incredible, though. Like nothing you’d ever expect to find in the city. The backyard was pretty much a private park—huge, secluded and ridiculously deep. There was a giant deck, a flagstone patio, a beautiful pool, endless amounts of lawn, a tennis court, even woods
and a creek. It was like being at a cottage or somewhere out in the country. It smelled crisp up there. Fresh. No trace of exhaust fumes. Just oxygen. And plenty of room to breathe. It was the perfect setting to hold meetings of a spiritual nature. Much better than our cruddy apartments on Hawton Boulevard. The only downside was that it was in the middle of nowhere. Up in North York around Leslie and Lawrence. Not at all convenient to get to by TTC, and with a pretty long walk after you got off the bus. I remember it was pretty miserable weather the day we first met there, cold, grey and windy. I figured people wouldn’t make the trip, that it would just be us and possibly crazy-town Tyson or weepy Drew Woollings, but nearly everybody from the second meeting showed. And there were additions—Anne-Marie brought her teenage son, Richard, and Joyanne brought Perry and Moina, an old hippie couple who used to make experimental films back in the 1970s. Eldrich, apparently, was worth the trek.

The Elderbrook meeting seemed more structured and official than the previous ones, but we didn’t plan it that way. I think it just happened because of Phil’s basement. The former owners had completely transformed the place to look like an old-fashioned movie theatre. There was a carved wooden stage with a panoramic screen and a heavy red velvet curtain flanked by wooden pillars. The curtains opened and closed automatically, just like in a theatre. It was pretty cool. And there were rows and rows of padded, flip-down seats that had been salvaged from a defunct movie house at Ossington and Bloor. At the other end of the long room was a cute snack bar with a working popcorn machine and groovy vintage
tin signs for different items.
Mr. Dee-lish Hot Buttered Popcorn. Mountain Dew, It’ll Tickle Your Innards! Chilly-Dilly—The Personality Pickle
. Everyone had been milling around the snack bar, grazing on trays of sushi and Thai salad rolls, but when it came time to get people’s attention, Eldrich naturally took to the stage and everyone naturally ended up in the seats. It wasn’t like Eldrich was trying to be big man in the spotlight, it was just the obvious place to address the attendees from. Still, even with him seated cross-legged and being relatively low key and Eldrichy, the proceedings seemed more formal with him raised up and everyone else in the audience.

“Friends, Seekers, thank you for coming today. I love you, and I’m so happy to see you. Welcome to new friends who have come to join us for the first time. And thank you to our generous host, Phil, who has received us into his home and provided us with shelter and sustenance and a comfortable place to convene.”

A smattering of applause. A wave from Phil in the front row.

“Some of you travelled a long way on buses and subways to get here. When we leave today, could the people with cars please give the people without cars rides home or at least rides to the subway?”

More applause. And Eldrich warming to it. “Emerson said that the purpose of life is to be useful, honourable and compassionate. So let’s try to make it easier for each other whenever we can. OK?”

Cheers from the crowd.

“So … the last time we were together, we sent healing energy to Phil from a distance. Today we have a chance to
intensify the curative process by transferring life force directly from our healthy bodies to Phil’s ailing body, which is out of balance. Phil, you want to come up now? I think if you lie right here, then people can stand beside you and it’ll be a good height.”

Eldrich spread a yoga mat out at the edge of the stage and Phil dutifully stretched out on top of it.

“Is that OK? Are you comfortable?”

“It’s good. Yes.”

“OK. Maybe we should all take some deep breaths before we begin. Let’s focus on breathing in healthy, vital energy and breathing out negative, dirty energy.”

Eldrich breathed in deeply and then everyone else breathed in deeply. Eldrich breathed out purposefully and then everyone else breathed out purposefully.

“Cleansing breaths,” said Eldrich. “In through the nose and out through the mouth. Think of each breath washing your cells and your internal organs. Think of each breath cleansing your physical body and at the same time brightening your light and shining your soul.”

He inhaled. They inhaled. He exhaled. They exhaled. Once rhythm and synchronicity were firmly established, Eldrich began to speak softly.

“The universe is energy. Energy and electricity. Humans are also energy and electricity. Our cells generate electrical impulses. That’s what makes the heart beat. Our brains are full of glial cells and neurons. Neurons are like tiny electrical transmitters. We have billions of them in our brains. Literally. Our circuitry is beautiful and complex.”

“I will praise you,” shouted Tyson, rising from his seat. “For I am fearfully and wonderfully made!”

“Yes,” said Eldrich. “Very—”

“Marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well!”

“Thank you, Tyson.”

“Psalm 139:14,” said Tyson, nodding. “Anyone here doubt it? Anyone who thinks we weren’t created by a benevolent God?”

Nobody spoke. But a strange sound issued forth from John, in the last row.

“We are fearfully, wonderfully and
intelligently
made,” said Tyson, scanning the crowd, as if daring someone to challenge him. Nobody did. We all just stared at his thick neck and his crazy tattoos and his shaved, muscular head. Satisfied, he murmured, “My soul knoweth right well, right well …,” then lowered himself into his chair.

“OK,” said Eldrich. “Maybe we should start. Who wants to start?”

Anne-Marie put up her hand. “I used to do therapeutic touch.”

“OK. Cool. Then maybe we should just all line up so we don’t have to interrupt the flow of energy to figure out who’s next.”

Anne-Marie approached the stage, and people shuffled into position behind her. I noticed, as I took a spot between Drew and Catelyn, that John hadn’t budged. Heather also remained seated, and I later learned that she felt her energy was too corrupted, too sick to transmit to Phil. Oddly enough, Marina, our fibromyalgia poster girl who could speak of nothing but her
myriad mystery ailments (including “alien fibres” sprouting from her arms), was directly behind Anne-Marie, raring to go.

The room was quiet as, one by one, people moved to the stage to either lay their hands on Phil or skim them lightly over his body. Eldrich controlled the length of time, allowing some to linger longer than others. A few were dismissed with a nod after only ten or fifteen seconds. I was hoping to be one of the quickly dispatched. I felt self-conscious and awkward, mostly because of John. I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel his judgment and scorn. I am not an airy-fairy person, and I don’t appreciate being viewed as such. I am a scientific person, and I happen to know that the brain-body connection is powerful. It’s real. I knew that what we were doing would, at the very least, be psychologically beneficial to Phil, and that what is psychologically beneficial is often physiologically beneficial. Even if we were just helping Phil to relax, we were, in fact, serving him. And so I took my place in the line and went to the stage and did the deed. I hovered my hands just above Phil’s body and passed them slowly back and forth from his head to his feet. Eldrich kept me there for what, at first, felt like an excruciating amount of time. But after a few minutes I forgot about John and being embarrassed and I just eased into the thing, into the motion and the purpose of it. I felt a strange warmth and tingle in my palms and fingers as they floated back and forth through what seemed like a substance thicker than air. It became hypnotic and calming, and I lost myself for who knows how long. It was only when Eldrich touched my shoulder that I regained the room around me. As I was returning to my seat, I noticed that John had taken off
while I was up there. So I pretended to need the bathroom and went to see where he had got to.