Being new to the country and having a limited vocabulary, I was shocked that the publisher of the paper, a big eared man named Bo (who today we know by his real name: Marshall Applewhite), hired me. He gave me a desk, a typewriter, a box of manila paper, and let me write what I wanted on the New Mexico sports scene. Every week, he invited me to have dinner with him and "his friends" as he called them. The meals were often good. Usually they served tuna helper. Sometimes macaroni and cheese.
Now, I believe in UFO's just like the next guy. Life is too complicated to have been formed by earthlings. Creationism, evolution, the argument is mute. Aliens begat the earth. The Sphinx, Easter Island, professional gymnastics. All the work of aliens. An old story that often circulated in my native village of Al-Asababa was that the earth was created by the ejaculation of beings from another world. Other cosmic tales exist, and I tend to accept them all. I even accepted Bo's: that he was an alien and that a spaceship was waiting to take us all home.
But the problem I had with Heaven's Gate back in the mid 70s when I was a member was the bathrooms. There was only one for the thirty of us. And someone kept peeing on the seat. That used to drive me crazy. I'd complain to Bo, but he would just shrug his shoulders and say, "Don't look at me. I go outside." I was positive that it was K., one of the earliest members of the group. However, I never had enough proof to convict him of wanton urination.
So I left the group. It was a sad farewell. "You're missing the chance to be pure," Bo said. The other members hugged me and cried. All except K. I knew that Bo was right. I knew that I was blowing my chance to enter the next level and to one day shed my container. But I just can't live with pee on the seat. Sitting in another man's pee leaves me clamy and nauseous. It also causes my bowels to stiffen up and refuse to yield any droppings.
Maybe I made a mistake back then. I was young. I was naive. I didn't understand that bodily fluids are just illusion. If I had stayed with the group, I could have become a web designer and finally owned a pair of Nikes, my American dream. Instead, I'm still alive, and I have a stronger vocabulary.
I wish Bo well. Bo knew UFO's. Bo knew Nikes. Bye bye Bo. Save me room on the ship. One of your sheep is still lost on earth.