Predatory Ethics Book I - Mad Gods

Chapter 12 - Fight, Fight! -

TIME: FEBRUARY 10TH, 1963. IN FRONT OF WHITTIER MANSION, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA, U.S.A.

Kosta sat in his Chevy cab, watching Whittier Mansion a Victorian monstrosity in Pacific Heights. For the past three hours, no one went in or out of the building. The tan brownstone was at the top of a hill and its walls looked like they had been carved from a single colossal stone. A portico was centered in the façade, framed by Corinthian columns and supporting a second storey balcony. Spaced on either side, and by the four corners, were turrets, spanning all three storeys. The roof was red tile and five chimneys randomly punctuated the roofline.

At the hall of records, Kosta discovered that since 1956 the California Historical Society looked after the Whittier Mansion. As officer of the same society, a Balzeer McGrath handled the society’s funding and all correspondence.

Kosta glanced behind him and saw only brown eyes and hair visible over the backrest of the front seat. Earlier, the boy showed enough courage to turn on the radio and they spoke above the low strains of hey-la-day-la my boyfriend’s back.

“So that’s it, huh?” The voice was plain, questioning. “That’s where these guys live? The guys who have been after us?” He’s gonna save my reputation, hey-la-day-la my boyfriend’s back. If I were you, I’d take a permanent vacation.

“Yes, that’s right.” Kosta remained focused on the structure as he answered the boy’s queries. “Are you scared? What are you feeling?”

“I feel like they’re calling me,” the boy answered honestly. Little Ronnie Specter quickly followed the Angels and pleaded, so won’t you please, be my little baby.

“It’s okay if you feel drawn to them. The choice will be yours. I can answer your questions, but I can do nothing more. Do you have any questions?”

“About them, you mean?” Adam nodded his head toward the mansion.

“Yes, about them. Who they are and why they’ve been after us?” Though he could not take his eyes off of the house, he hoped Adam would see that he was earnest about answering his questions.

“Why do they want me so badly? I don’t know them, so how do they know me?”

“You’re more than family, to them — you’re the reason they’re alive. They want to serve you.” Kosta was completely honest with Adam as he listened to the Crystals singing, Yes I’ll make him mine, da doo ron-ron-ron, da doo ron-ron.

“That doesn’t sound bad to me. Why are we running and hiding from them?”

“You know, you’re right. It doesn’t sound bad, but it is. They want you to act according to their prophecies.” Kosta wished that the da doo ron-ron-ron, da doo ron-ron would just end, but he resisted the urge to switch off the radio. Adam always seemed more comfortable when it was on.

“What’s prophecy?”

“It’s what people, a long time ago, said would happen.” Mercifully, the song ended and was followed by commercials, prompting Kosta to lower the volume.

“But it hasn’t happened, right?”

“Right.” Kosta knew that as soon as the music started again, unconsciously, Adam would turn up the volume, even amidst a deep conversation.

“So, how do they say it will happen?”

“They have, or their masters, like the Seekers, have made plans and believe it will happen.” Kosta waited as he listened to both Adam and the radio.

“Since it hasn’t happened, how do they believe this?”

“They believe without having to see it.” Kosta held up both hands in front of the boy. “Now, look at this.”