Blinded by the Light Read online

  But Fletcher didn’t look amused. “That’s only a very crude description,” he said.

  “There’s much more to it than that,” Nick agreed.

  Fletcher looked me in the eyes. “There are countless religions and superstitions all over the world, but in fundamentals they’re all very similar. There’s this belief in a divinity – God, Allah, Yahweh. And before the so-called discovery of God, people still saw the forces of nature at play, and still had the need to believe in something. What people call God is just their way of naming the incomprehensible.”

  I went along with all of that. “Like Father Christmas,” I added, trying to be a good student. “He’s just a symbol.”

  Fletcher nodded but didn’t really seem to hear me. “We would never deny anyone’s concept of God. But what we know is that there is a force for Good. That this Life is not all there is. And that there is a reason why we’re here.”

  It intrigued me, the way he sounded so definite. He had a certain power, Fletcher. He had a compelling presence. When he talked, you listened. You were only aware of him in the room. His voice was slower than most people’s and his eyes held you.

  “Before Creation, there was just bliss. It existed beyond time and space in a unity of thought and emotion. Then a vast explosion occurred. Matter was formed, and antimatter. Matter is what our world is made of; antimatter is pure evil. It causes bad thoughts and propagates illness. All living things in our world have a yearning to return to the time that was. We can return to that time, but only through self-purification – achieved through self-control – keeping our bodies pure, total honesty, confession and working towards an end to hypocrisy and corruption in the world around us.

  “That might not be achieved in one lifetime. Those among us who are full of evil – those who commit murder without reason, those drugged with power, enter oblivion when they die. It’s as if they never were. Their names are blotted out. But those with sparks of goodness are given the chance to return and start again. White Ones are people who have already lived a few lives and have reached the next stage of their journey. They are ready to achieve total self-purification and the rules for them are stricter than for the rest of mankind. We are in training. We accept that others may live indulgent lives; we don’t have that choice. We work towards Perfection.

  “Our goal is to achieve Perfection. When we do, we will merge with the Light. At that time, we will still have our individual consciousnesses. These enable us to re-enter the world as immortals. These immortal beings are called Perfects. They are here now among us. When we are ready to become one of them, we will meet one. They will help us to reach our ultimate Vision.”

  He stopped talking. There was this silence, as if holy words had been spoken. I could have nodded or even said amen. But knowing what Fletcher expected of me, I didn’t do that. Instead I questioned him.

  “I don’t see how you can believe all that. It seems pretty far-fetched to me.”

  Fletcher looked at me directly. “It’s pretty far-fetched that a man was crucified then returned to life three days later. More far-fetched to claim he was actually the Son of God. It’s also weird to believe that some Divine Being handed down two stone tablets to a bloke on a mountain.”

  I laughed to relieve the tension.

  “Anyway,” Will commented. “We have proof.”

  “Proof?”

  “Yes,” Fletcher said. “None of us here would have been convinced about the Light and Perfects had there been no proof. This is the twenty-first century. The age of science. We only believe what we know to be true.”

  “What’s your proof?” I asked.

  “Have you heard of near-death experiences?” Nick asked me.

  “Yeah. People look down on their own bodies, right? See themselves on the hospital bed?”

  Fletcher nodded. “If you compare accounts of near-death experiences from all over the world, they’re surprisingly similar. People feel as if they’re moving forward, and see a light. They’re conscious of spirits welcoming them, and a sense of peace and love. When they return to this world, it’s with a sense of loss.”

  “So that’s your proof?” I had to admit this was interesting, but not conclusive. Then I noticed the three of them exchanging looks.

  “I think he’s ready,” Nick said.

  Will nodded eagerly. I was glad. I liked Will and was pleased at this evidence of his friendship. And I wanted to know whatever it was Fletcher was on the brink of telling me. I promised myself I would take it seriously.

  Fletcher seemed to hesitate. Then he spoke. “Look, Joe. We don’t impart this to everyone. A lot of people who are attracted to the White Ones are just sad and lonely souls, willing to believe anything in exchange for security. We think you’re different. You’re not afraid to speak your mind. You have a voice of your own. You have a brain. But not only that, we sense your past lives in you. We think you are meant to be here. This is your right place. We’ve watched you struggle a bit with us, fight your destiny. We’ve seen the Light in you sometimes and have felt glad. We think you are one of us and that we’ve found a brother. But we cannot make you join us. It’s a vital part of our code that you come to us of your own volition. You must invite each stage. We can do no more than assist you.”

  Now I felt seriously weird. I didn’t know what to think. It could be true – I could be one of them. I certainly felt different on the farm, more me, more significant. Maybe that feeling of being significant was what Fletcher meant. I had found a place or purpose. But on the other hand, I was still me, Joe Woods, with a mum and dad and a place at Bristol to read law in the autumn. Only none of that seemed very real at that moment. I needed to find out whether I was a White One now, whether Fletcher and Nick and Will knew me better than I knew myself. Most of all, I felt an overpowering curiosity to see their proof. What was it they knew, but weren’t yet prepared to tell me?

  Fletcher got up, and went into the bathroom. He came back immediately with a glass of water and placed it on the floor in the middle of us all. No one said a word. They were waiting for me. That’s when I had this thought. This moment in front of me had more meaning than any moment I had experienced so far. Something extraordinary was about to happen. It was up to me to seize it.

  “I’d like to know,” I said. That was it. There was no turning back.

  Fletcher took the glass of water and sipped from it, passed it to Nick, who sipped from it too, passed it to Will, who did the same, and then it came to me. I sipped from it, like them. The water trickled down my throat, softening and relaxing it. I handed the glass back to Fletcher.

  “Give me your hand,” he said. I stretched out my hand, palm outwards. I noticed it was trembling slightly. Fletcher took a penknife from his pocket. In an instant the blade was out and skimming the surface of my index finger, drawing blood. I felt no pain. Fletcher took my wrist and held my finger over the glass of water. A drop or two of blood landed on the surface and diffused through the water until it had dispersed completely. Fletcher lifted the glass again and picked it up, and handed it round once more. They each drank. Me, too. I drank my own blood.

  Fletcher began again. “Colin Rendall, our leader, almost drowned with his friends over thirty years ago. It was when he was submerged in the water he was granted his Vision of the Light. But it was not with him as it was with others. He was admitted to the central chamber where he saw the Book. In the moment of timelessness he experienced, he was able to remember it all. All. And when he recovered he was able to write it all down, and more besides. That Book is both our proof and our Guide. It was time for a new prophet, and Rendall is that man. I have met him. Through him, I have seen the Book.

  “But to argue for a moment,” he continued. “Although I have proof, even I must concede that there is no such thing as absolute proof of anything. Even the most rigorously controlled scientific experiment is open to different interpretations. You believe in electricity but only because people you trust have explained it to you.
People know about the theory of relativity because we trusted Einstein. No one person can know everything, and so we must find a teacher, someone we can place absolute faith in. We must trust the knowledge of other people, other people’s proofs. Rendall knows. I know Rendall. I believe in his truth with the totality of my being. There is a chain of knowing. You, Joe, are part of that chain. You know me. You know. You can achieve Perfection.”

  At that moment, I was conscious of a warmth in my body. It seemed to start in my left leg, but in a few moments it had spread everywhere. OK, I know it sounds crazy. But it was like my body had filled with heat, with light, and I knew, I knew something stupendous had happened to me. There was a presence filling me. Then gradually it receded, but I was left with an afterglow, a deep happiness, a sense of purpose. So I knew what Fletcher said was true. I would be able to achieve Perfection.

  PART TWO

  THE ARRIVAL

  7.

  From Rendall’s Laws Governing Purity:

  Alternate Sense Deprivation

  In order to free yourself from the temptations of this world, White Ones are encouraged to practise Alternate Sense Deprivation. In a five-day cycle one must abstain from each sense in turn; you shall not see, you shall not hear, you shall not taste, you shall not feel, you shall not smell. Those aspiring to higher levels of purity may, under supervision, attempt a combination of sense deprivations. Their gain is the greater.

  It’s true – life is like a maze. Most of the time you wander around in it, sometimes thinking you’re getting somewhere, but most of the time just coming up against dead ends. But if you were to see the maze from a helicopter, say, you’d see the pattern and be able to plot your route. And being a White One was like taking that helicopter ride. I could see the pattern, the pattern of my own life. Things were starting to make sense.

  I’m not saying I was a White One – this was not exactly true. To be a genuine White One you had to undergo an initiation ceremony, and Fletcher had said that he would be my sponsor, which was quite an honour apparently – only Nick had been sponsored by Fletcher, no one else. Obviously I would have to prepare myself by studying and practising the Five Laws of Purity and ASD – alternate sense deprivation. I knew at any time I could opt out. The way I saw it, I had freedom. And I wanted to go further, because each step I took along the path, I felt better. Anything that felt this good had to be right.

  I said that to Bea and she agreed vehemently. We had many long conversations throughout January. Bea was a few weeks ahead of me on the path to initiation but it felt like we were learning together. So her thoughts and experiences complemented the sessions I had with Nick and Fletcher. She sort of humanised the theory, she was the flesh and blood.

  I could see now that what the White Ones believed was true. It stood to reason. All societies, past and present, believed something. Science is only an explanation of how things occur, not why. The why has to be open to interpretation. It seemed more and more obvious to me that the White Ones had to be right. Sun worshippers, Hindus, Christians, Jews, Ancient Greeks – everyone had a belief system and the White Ones’ system was a distillation of all of them. It encapsulated the truth, the core of what we all know to be true. That there is a force beyond us. That it is good. That good conquers evil. That we have to strive to be good and only then can we conquer evil. How can anyone disagree with any of that? Don’t try telling me the universe is just a random occurrence without form, shape or meaning. Like, how can that be true? That’s harder to believe than accepting there is meaning. Most people don’t want there to be meaning because it gives them the excuse to follow their own greed and selfishness. To accept there is a higher being is immediately to commit to following in his path. Most people don’t want to do that.

  I could go on. But the most engrossing things about training to be a White One were the Purity Laws and ASD. I had to give up cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, sex and all addictive behaviour. This wasn’t too bad. I didn’t smoke, although I’d experimented once or twice in the past. I could easily live without weed. I found, since I gave up drinking, my head was clearer and I felt good when I woke in the morning. Not being hungover, I didn’t need coffee. As for sex, there wasn’t the opportunity. I thought I would worry about that one later.

  ASD was tough but rewarding. Doing without one sense sharpens your other four senses. It was very much like that when I spent a whole day at the farm, with Bea, doing without sight. We were both given blindfolds and Will and Auriel helped us when necessary. What Bea and I did was to sit back to back, blindfolds on, and we talked. It was the best conversation we ever had.

  We were both on a high. Bea said non-White Ones would think we were missing out, but what they don’t realise is the buzz you get from self-discipline. She said that paradoxically we have a higher quality of life than people who give in to every whim. And I said to her, what’s so good about the Purity Laws and ASD is that they simplify everything. Each day, you know what you have to do. Bea agreed. She said there was nothing so good as knowing that you were doing the right thing.

  Sitting like that, our backs touching, supporting each other, we began to share new stuff. Not seeing stopped us from doing so many things that we had unlimited time on our hands. Time to really listen.

  I said to Bea, “Tell me exactly how you found the White Ones – tell me every detail.”

  She said, “It’s hard to know where to begin.”

  I heard, and felt, her take a deep sigh.

  “You know I’m an only child. My mother was a piano teacher. She wanted to be a concert pianist but she was unlucky, no one discovered her. Also she married young. My father was Italian – he was over here working as a waiter. It was love at first sight. Mum used to say it was one of those grand passions that blind you to everything that actually mattered about a person. She showed me pictures of him and I could see he was quite striking. But as you know, the marriage didn’t work out. Basically he couldn’t stay faithful to her. And she told me he would lose his temper when she confronted him, he would rant and rave about his rights. Not that I remember any of this. I was a baby at the time. They split up when I was three. But the whole thing took its toll on Mum and she had a breakdown. She was admitted to hospital and I went to live with my gran. She really loathed my dad, and she let me know that. Never trust an Eye-tie, that’s what she used to say.”

  “That must have messed you up,” I said.

  “Not really. When you’re a kid you just accept whatever situation you find yourself in. I was quite happy just living with my mum, and I wasn’t the only girl in my class at school from a single-parent family. I studied the piano and things were fine, until I was thirteen, when Mum first got ill. It was breast cancer. They were able to take the lump out of her breast and then she had to have chemotherapy and radiotherapy. That was tough because by then Gran had died and it was just us on our own. Mum was the sort who never wanted to trouble anybody; she wanted to cope by herself. She accepted help from me, though. It made me feel good, in a way, being able to do something, but also I felt responsible for her. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds, honest. Mum always believed she would get better and was determined to fight the cancer. Then she got the all clear.”

  I felt tense. I knew what was coming next.

  “Things were OK for a while. But when she found a second lump my mum pretended it was her imagination. She couldn’t admit that it was happening again, so she was lying to herself. By the time she went to the doctor it was too late. It had spread this time and they tried the chemo again, but it was no use. She was in a lot of pain in the end. Then they gave her morphine and that was the worst part. It was like she wasn’t my mum any more. She said all sorts of bizarre things. And it was funny, I knew she was going to die, but on another level I couldn’t accept it. I didn’t believe it was going to happen.

  “On the last day when Mum was thrashing about in bed, fighting it, the nurses insisted I go into another room. They thought seeing her was upsetting me. It was
, but what upset me even more was that I wasn’t there when she went. I felt so angry with them. I had to beg and plead to see her body, but when I did, it wasn’t too bad. She looked so peaceful, as if she was in another place. I sat with her a while and hummed some Chopin. It was OK.”

  I could feel tears behind my blindfold. They moistened the material. I reached behind me and felt for Bea’s hand. She took it and held it. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t imagine coping in that situation. Me and my family, we’re all going to die together in some car crash or something. That’s what I’ve decided. I can’t get my head round losing any of them.

  Bea carried on. “After she’d gone, I was very low. I couldn’t work, I missed days at school. The doctor tried giving me some antidepressants but they made me numb and I didn’t like them. To be honest, there was a point when I thought of killing myself because I couldn’t see the point of carrying on. My mum was a good person, I loved her, so why did she have to die like that?

  “I met Kate at college. She was finishing her art foundation course. Bit by bit I got friendly with her and she told me snippets about the way she lived. She never hassled me but just answered my questions. I felt drawn towards her, it was odd. That was the time things began to make sense. When Kate told me about Rendall’s Book and its revelations, I could see that the cancer had struck Mum randomly. It wasn’t our fault – cancer is antimatter and anti-life. It’s one of the things we have in this world, but it’s also our duty to combat it. Not just by research and nursing – though that’s very important – but by increasing the balance of good in the world. How we live affects the rest of the world. But I also began to see how Mum had made decisions that had an adverse outcome on the disease. Like when she lied to herself – lying is never good. And also I knew the truth of the Light when I saw Mum at peace. That was all the proof I needed. Mum wasn’t religious and yet at the end she was happy – I’m certain about that. So everything Kate had told me made sense. I visited the farm, and liked it. I came here more and more, and then I met you.”