“Just a minute, hon. I’ll look out the front window.” There was a brief pause. “Yep. They’re home. I see Denver in the driveway fiddling with the Winnebago. Since Birdie can’t drive, if Denver’s home, that means she is, too.”
“Let’s pay a surprise visit. You keep Birdie occupied in the house, and I’ll talk to Denver outside. I’ll be over in ten minutes.” I ended the call and threw on my size sixteen stretch denim jeans, a white T-shirt, and a pair of navy blue Crocs. Then I grabbed my purse and car keys and drove to Lucy’s house, just a couple miles south of me.
As I parked in front of Lucy’s, I was relieved to see Denver still in the driveway across the street working under the hood of their Winnebago. Lucy had the front door open before I had a chance to knock. She grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.
Lucy always looked perfectly put together. Unlike me, she woke up early, along with her husband, made his breakfast, and packed his lunch. Also, unlike me, she put on makeup and dressed carefully in an outfit she’d selected the night before. Today she wore a grass green cotton sweater over a white shirt with matching green pants and yellow flat shoes. Her orange hair was carefully curled, and her brown eyebrows were expertly drawn. “Come on in, girlfriend, and let’s work this out before we go over there.”
“Good idea. Let’s tell Denver we decided on the spur of the moment to say hi. Then you’ll go inside to talk to Birdie and keep her distracted.”
“What’ll I talk about?”
“Anything. Just don’t bring up the subject of Mystical Feather. We don’t want to be obvious about the purpose of our visit. Then, while you’re keeping Birdie busy, I’ll stay outside and strike up a conversation with Denver.”
Lucy nodded. “Okay. Got it. Let’s go.” She walked quickly to the front door.
“Wait, Lucy. We’ll look suspiciously like we’re on a mission if you walk that fast. Just be casual. Let’s saunter across the street and talk to each other as if we don’t have a care in the world.”
We left the house and moseyed across the street, arm in arm, wearing big smiles. “Hi, Denver.” Lucy and I spoke at the same time.”
The white-haired retired rancher sat on the steps of the RV with what looked like a greasy engine part in his hands. He looked up and a broad smile creased his weathered face. “Mornin’, ladies.” He stood to greet us.
I poked Lucy with my elbow. “I came to visit Lucy today, but when I saw you across the street, I just had to come over and say hello. It’s wonderful to see you again.” I stepped forward and gave him a big hug. Then I looked at Lucy and inclined my head toward the house.
She took the hint. “Is Birdie inside?”
When Denver nodded, she turned and made her way up the porch and inside their Craftsman-style home.
Once we were alone, I forced myself to smile. “Birdie told us Tuesday of your plans to sell your properties.”
“Uh, yeah. Twink’s got a plan.” Denver’s pet name for his wife was short for Twinkle. Don’t ask.
“Yes, I think she may have told us a little about it. You’re going to live on a commune?”
He sat on the steps again, picked up a screwdriver with an oily blade, and began cleaning it with a red cotton rag. “Yeah. That’s right. It’s called the Mystical Feather Society. Up in Ojai. Very peaceful place to end our lives.”
I shuddered at the possible double meaning. “End your lives? Is there something we should know? Are you ill?”
Denver barked out a laugh. “Hah. Poor choice of words. It’s a peaceful place to live out the remainder of our lives, however long that may be.”
He gestured toward the interior of the RV. “I feel a coffee break coming on. Why don’t you come on inside where we can sit comfortably and talk? Twink and I were up at six, and you know her. She just had to bake something. Today it’s cranberry scones.”
I followed him into the interior of a surprisingly comfortable space, even though the walls were beige fiberglass and the furniture was permanently bolted to the floor. I sat on the sage green upholstered banquette, which wrapped around two sides of the dining table. Denver washed the grease from his work-worn hands. Then he placed a teaspoon of instant coffee in each of two mugs he pulled from an overhead cupboard and turned the flame on the propane stove under a stainless-steel kettle. “Just give it a few minutes, and we’ll have some nice fresh coffee. Meanwhile, help yourself.” He pointed to six scones sitting on a plastic plate in the middle of the table and handed me a paper napkin.
I chose a round scone about the size of a dinner biscuit and placed it on my napkin. “Why did you choose that particular place in Ojai?”
He rooted his hand under his shoulder-length white hair and scratched his neck. “I didn’t choose it, really. Twink did. We went to Sedona for the spring equinox because Birdie said she felt a calling. People up there were eating mushrooms and talking about their spirit guides. Birdie wanted to try it and asked me to take care of her while she went on her ‘journey.’ ”
“Did you eat mushrooms, too?”
“Naw. I wanted to make sure she came out of it okay. Anyway, the next day I woke up and found her talking to this Mystical Feather dude. That’s when he told us he was the son of Madam Natasha St. Germain. Twink knew all about her. Even had some of her books. The dude claimed his mother came to him in a vision and told him to talk to us.”
“What did he want to talk about?”
The kettle whistled, and Denver got up to prepare the coffee with cream. “He basically asked us a bunch of questions about how long we’ve been together, how we met, you know. That kind of stuff.”
My BS radar started pinging. I was sure St. Germain wanted to suss out whether Birdie and Denver had money. “Did he talk about himself?”
“Yeah, some. Mostly he talked about the commune. Asked us if we might be interested in starting a new chapter in our lives. Like joining the commune.”
“So you said yes? Just like that?”
“No, I said we needed time to think on it. Later that day, me and Twink hiked up this hill to watch the sun set. We walked slowly because of her bum knees. Twink told me about the amazing healing powers of Madam St. Germain. She supposedly could cure arthritis. When Twink spotted three white feathers on the path, she took it as a sign. After dark, we went back to our RV and found St. Germain waiting for us inside.
“He broke into your RV?”
“Naw. We never lock it. Anyway, he said he could tell from our Winnebago we were exceptional people.”
He probably snooped around to discover whatever he could about their finances.
Denver continued. “He said his mother came to him in a new vision. She told Royal we were the ones he was looking for. We were the ‘Elect.’ ”
“So it was then you agreed to sell everything just like that? Without seeing the commune?”
“Not at first. He asked us some more questions, like did we anticipate any resistance from friends or families and were we willing to go all in. You know, give everything up in exchange for being welcomed into a loving community of like-minded people who would care for us even if we became ill or incapacitated. Become part of a spiritual family, like.”
“Did you ask him anything, or did he do all the talking?”
“He talked. We mostly listened. Twink and I discussed it that night after he left. She made up her mind. St. Germain assured her that her spirit guide would show her how to heal her arthritis. She said it would be a dream come true if we became members of Madam St. Germain’s