preparedness – part 7

Before Frank and Candy did their interview on Frank’s small patio, Candy got the initial B roll out of the way. She and Frank went out on to the lawn to fire one of the injectors.  Frank smiled as he tried to keep his hand from shaking. He suported his left wrist with his right hand and he pushed the plunger with his left thumb.  The atropine went flying through the air and almost hit Candy.  The two of them cracked up.

“I think we got that,” Candy said. “Okay, Frank, so first we’ll sit down and do the interview and then I’d like to walk and talk with you. You know, walk by the trees to the front of your house.” They got comfortable in a couple of pale yellow, metal chairs that bounced a little.

The interview went very well – as Candy and Frank discussed exactly what we’d talked about in the study. I sat on the ground next to the cameraman doing the over the shoulder shot that focused on Frank.  Frank’s spirit was strong, but his body was weak.  He was very pale and had to pace himself – as if he’d expended a lot of energy teaching us in the study. Aurically, his energy was colorful, but there was a 2 inch, gray mist directly outlining his body.  I wondered what was making him so sick.

Before I knew it, the interview was over.

“How was it, Norah?” Candy asked. “Did I forget anything?”

“Did you ask if kids would be hurt by an adult size dose?” I asked.

“I did not. Do you want it in there?”

“Yeah, just to make sure, ” I said.

They got in that one last question, went for their “walk,” took off their mics and we were good to go.

I took Candy aside for a moment.

“Candy, Frank wants to talk to me alone for awhile.  Is there any chance I can blow off the HHS interview?” I felt like i was asking to cut class.

“Yeah, I guess so. No problem. It’s fairly routine, kid. You won’t be missing anything. We’ll circle back, pick you up and take you to the bureau so  you can meet everyone.”

Frank and I headed back into the house. Susan, his neighbor who helped him out, was nowhere in sight.

“Norah, I want to show you another tape,” he said, teacher to student, source to investigative journalist.

“Okay.” I wandered back into the study and sat back on the bench.

“Norah, this could be disturbing, but I feel you should see it. It’s about sarin. You know how sarin works,” he said.

“Actually, not exactly,” I said, eager to be taught.

“Well, it’s a chemical agent similar to some insecticides. It’s clear and odorless, making it very dangerous – as people wouldn’t know to move away,” he said. He was quite serious now.

“How is it weaponized.  What form?” I knew about the Tokyo subway attack. I had read “Underground,” Haruki Murakami’s reconstruction of that day.  Several people in a cult had taken plastic bags filled with liquid sarin into the Tokyo Metro.  They punctured the bags and 12 people were killed.  Thousands of other subway riders were injured.

“Well, you know about the Tokyo attack,” he said, as if reading my mind. “Liquid is the most efficient way of dispersing it.  Norah, you know how upset we were with  Iraq for the cyanide testing they did on dogs. We do the same thing here.  I snuck this tape out before I left Detrick.”

“Okay,” I said, as he popped in the tape.

Together we watched an experiment on a chimp.  What appeared to be army doctors in a medical office put a mask on the chimp’s face.  The chimp twitched and went pale and limp.  Then the doctors shot him with auto-injectors.

“Sarin stopped his diaphragm,” Frank said.  “Then they revived him with atropine and 2 Pam.”

“Jesus,” I said. “This is what they fucking do?? This is how we find out how these fucking chemicals work?” I guessed Frank was used to that language.

He nodded. “Norah, yes. We don’t need to test chemicals.  We know they kill.  That’s part of why I left.  They knew I was upset. If they knew I’d snuck this out, they’d kill me. Promise you won’t tell anyone and that you will come here and take these things, should I die.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “You are not dying anytime soon.”

“We are not prepared, Norah. Please help with that – maybe your next piece.”

“Okay, after we get the ambulances changed.  I promise.”

“I’ve trained people in the Army.  I have worked on domestic preparedness for many years. Only a few cities have good programs. Most do not. Military doctors offer free seminars, but no one will take us up on them. The seminars are empty. EMTs don’t show up.”

“Good goddess.” I took out a pad and pen and I sat down with Frank for another hour, while he fed me information on his best and most prepared students – some of who were now directors of preparedness programs. I felt angry and curious all at the same time.  I said a silent prayer to Jupiter and Isis for justice to be done.

Candy and the guys had arrived and I hated to leave my dear teacher – not knowing when I’d see him again. We hugged and Frank, now exhausted, could barely walk me to the door. His face was white.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine. I’ll call Susan in a minute. She’ll come over and help me make dinner.”

“Frank I can’t thank you enough. I so believe in you,” I said.

“And I in you,” he smiled.

I started seeing

One day, I was in my kitchen, when I saw colors dripping from the branches of the trees in our backyard. They were dark, primary colors – almost like the colors you see on your TV screen, if you get really close and see those little dots. It looked like thin, rainbow colored streamers flying off of the branches into the ground. I panicked and, thinking it was an acid flashback, I ran to the phone and called my sponsor.

“There are colors dripping from my trees. What do you do for a flashback? Do you eat sugar or something? I seem to remember sugar.”

“What makes you think you are having a flashback?” Linda laughed.

“Uhm, could it be the colors I’m seeing flying around outside my window??” I was now sitting on the floor and staring at the white linoleum so I wouldn’t have to see.

“It could be you are seeing something spiritual.”

“Okay, good. So maybe it’ll go away.”

“Maybe you should find a book on this.”

“Maybe it will just go away.”

I was lucky I lived in a town that had a few new age shops. I threw my 2 year old into his stroller and off I went to the nearest funky bookstore.

“I’m looking for a book on colors. I’m seeing colors,” I said to the clerk.

“What kind of colors?” I thought she might buzz for help in a second.

“You know…dripping from trees? Dripping from you right now. Oh, actually I’m seeing big bows of light coming out from you right now. I’m not into this at all.”

The woman smiled and asked me if I’d ever read Barbara Ann Brennan’s “Hands of Light.” She told me it was about seeing auric colors and using this gift to heal people. I thought, well, this is as good an explanation as any and I bought the book in spite of having very little money.

“It has some beautiful plates in it,” she said. “I think you will see some of the things that you are seeing. I opened it up and saw colors bowing all over the place. I thought, I do not want to be a healer. I am happy writing and researching.

I wheeled us home and I sat on the front porch with Patrick and I started to read – about disease and entities who visit when you’re healing, about colors and what they mean. I could not get enough of it. Suddenly, I wanted to see.