She pointed at part of it written in columns. "And some of it is like a handbook for some organisation. Look here," she turned back a page to a group of circles with connecting arrows, the circles were filled with writing. "This is like a cycle of promotion, or ranking in this BSA organisation, or control, i'm not sure."
She handed me the book. It was funny how her speech lost all its feeling when she didn't have a clue what she was talking about. I started to read some of the book, "I think I was crazy."
It's funny actually, how The Emerald Dragon made its appearance several times. Often it was referred to as being owned by the 666 Beast in some way. Absurd, I know, but that's where Jessica worked. And I called her Lisa, and made her out a smoker. Thank God she really wasn't. That would ruin her life and mine. It looked like the BSA, which I couldn't find what the letters stood for, was run by somebody called Baoss, whose location was unknown. And below him were the directors. There was hinting of somebody else between the Head Chief and the directors.
That night in my dreams, I was visited by Charles Manson, again. And this time he spoke of me, directly to me, sitting in a coffeeshop with me. "You will find that your past is beyond the world and your memory. You must get back to the buttercups. Your world is yours alone." And his last five words repeated and echoed all the next day: "Your world is yours alone."
"I have an idea," murmered May, her hair thinner than yesterday, the pink and blue was fading out. She looked at the white wall under the t.v. suspended above her feet. Then she turned to me, eyebrowless, she spoke. "Look at the part of your life you can't remember, then just sit there, trying to put yourself in that time. Listen for voices, try to get a quote from it."
