Article - Laura Knight-Jadczyk


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The Secret History of The World by Laura Knight-Jadczyk

Discover the Secret History of the World - and how to get out alive!


Adventures with Cassiopaea









Adventures With Cassiopaea

Chapter 13


The trip to Gulf Breeze was all Frank could talk about. I had the idea that we would drive up in my van, split the expenses three ways, and we could park the van on one of the great beaches up there and camp out with sleeping bags. Frank would have none of that! He would have a hotel room or nothing.

Okay. Well, I couldn't afford a hotel room. But Frank pointed out that S** could. She had a large inheritance from her father, and Frank decided that she ought to fund this trip. As he pointed out, S** had certainly been providing printing supplies, paper, ink, tapes, etc to me for the sessions and printing excerpts and copies of sessions. Why shouldn't she pay for a trip to Gulf Breeze?

I didn't like it, but Frank said "If we don't go in style, I ain't goin'!" And I most definitely wanted Frank to go! "Just let me handle S**," he assured me.

I didn't want S** to have to discuss this with Frank alone, since I was already certain that she couldn't see through his "little manipulations" that I generally swept under the rug when he tried them on me, and made every effort to protect other people from them. (Again, I was waiting for Frank to "come into his own," and I tolerated his flaws until he did, which I was sure he would eventually!)

After Frank had made his proposal to her in a more or less direct way, which could not have been faulted, I mentioned the fact that my idea had been to drive up and camp out to save money. S** thought my idea was more fun, but Frank again interjected that he wasn't going to go if he couldn't stay in a hotel.

So, S** said "Sure! That would be fun! We can just all share a double room!"

"Nope!" Frank declared. He would not go if he couldn't have his own room.

I could see the chances of going to the conference and distributing the magazine dwindling.

But S** agreed. Sure, she'd pay for two rooms if that would make Frank happy.

But that wasn't all that Frank wanted. Now he announced that it would undoubtedly be cheaper all the way around if we were to fly up instead of drive.

I could see the chances of going to the conference and distributing the magazine dwindling.

But S** agreed. Sure, she'd pay for round-trip tickets for the three of us.

And Frank just beamed with delight.

At some point during the magazine preparation period, S** made an off-hand remark about her relations with several people that I knew to be deeply involved with ritual magic and other unsavory activities. I was surprised. After all we had learned so far, didn't she think it was a bit dangerous to be hanging out with those people? S** explained that she really wasn't hanging out with them, she was being paid to do therapy with them. It was purely and simply a business relationship.

But she knew that this was the same group of people who had previously tried to harm me, and I felt a tremendous sense of betrayal. I knew I couldn't ask her to give up a massage client in solidarity with me, but I certainly hoped she would.

Having this sudden revelation just before our trip did not make the prospects all that pleasant for me. But, I was committed to getting the magazine out, and that was that.

In addition to the storm that was brewing in regard to S**, it was becoming very evident that our involvement with Pam was far more complicated and problematical than I had ever anticipated. We had started the project at the beginning of January, and already I was becoming unwillingly embroiled in Pam's control games with her children and her dying husband. The whole family dynamic had presented itself in the beginning as so very charming and loving. As I spent more time with them on the magazine project, more and more secrets - UGLY secrets - bubbled to the surface.

It became clear that Pam had bought the print shop business in order to be able to totally dominate her children. It was also clear that her children, aged 20 and 17, were completely and totally irresponsible and undesirous of being dominated. With a dying husband and mounting medical bills, Pam had also endeavored to exert controls on her children by buying both of them expensive new cars as well as a 40K sports car for herself so that they could maintain their "images" as "business owners." Patrick and Shayna, the children, thought that the print shop was their personal bank and that it was supposed to finance their every whim - even without completing the many orders that were placed by their customers. They would take initial payments on large business orders, close the shop and go out to eat and party and sometimes not return to the shop for days.

Pat laughed at this in an indulgent way for awhile. But then the bills began to pile up and the investment income from her other sources began to dry up, and her husband's pension and inherited trust fund payments were not nearly enough to keep up the car and insurance payments.

And, angry customers became more and more frequent making Pam embarrassingly aware of what her kids were doing when she wasn't watching.

Pam was at her wit's end. She would be at home, caring for her husband, and would call the shop to see how the kids were managing things, and find that it was closed and they were gone. Little by little she confided to me her concern over Patrick and his apparent substance abuse problems as well as her perception of her daughter, Shayna, as a flighty, promiscuous borderline mental case. Pam was constantly dragging Patrick to doctors for mind controlling drugs such as prozac and other anti-depressants. She was convinced that if he failed to take his medication he would turn into a monster, and he would certainly fail to take his medicine if he did not have his mother's constant attendance.

I was unsure why she felt this until she began to reveal that he had violent tendencies and had physically attacked both his parents on occasion, even throwing his father's oxygen tank into the swimming pool. Pam had to call the police several times, but each time, she refused to press charges when Patrick would beg her forgiveness as soon as the police were at the door. On one such occasion, he had stormed out of the house and had taken her car and disappeared for two weeks along with her credit cards. It turned out that he and a friend had been "partying" in New Orleans, visiting whorehouses and eating in fine restaurants. She attributed all of this behavior to his failure to take his medication, and she was determined to keep him under her thumb; thus, she bought the print shop after he had expressed interest in the printing business.

Shayna, a more-than-plain girl with little but air between her ears, was proving to be a teenaged slut of the first order. She had picked up a very sleazy boyfriend at a nightclub who glommed onto her because of her fancy car and access to fast, easy cash. More than once I observed him brazenly opening the cash drawer in the shop and taking out money for dinner and movies for himself and Shayna, who was simply gaga that such a slick guy would pay her so much attention; never mind that he was doing it with the customer's money and no work was getting done for that money!

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