Chapter 4: VooDoo Curse

    Professor Pangloss spent most of the afternoon reading through the book on Pyromancy to see what information he could learn about Professor Jones and his mindset. Robin stayed busy as well, making her way through the endless stacks of books looking for long-lost, forgotten treasures with ripped bindings and handwritten notes in the margins.

    “Look at this,” she said to the Professor as she walked up. She held up an old, faded book and said, “this looks like it could be a first edition version of ‘On the Road.’ It’s like stepping into a time machine as you flip through the pages.”

    “Exactly,” he said as he pointed to the book on Pyromancy, “look here. This is where he makes mention of a project that he was working on which involved preparing cities for nuclear war. Based upon what I’m reading, I think this has something to do with the Truman Dark Experiment and his work in Ukraine.”

    “That’s incredible!” she said then paused, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier. What if instead of going to Paris, I just messaged my friend and waited for her to respond? Then we could head out to Ukraine together to meet with Professor Jones.”

    “Email isn’t safe and neither is phone or text,” said Pangloss.

   “I know, but one of the students back in Seattle introduced me to a new router called Peachy. It was developed by the KGB to counter US intelligence from intercepting their transmissions. A few years ago, the Russian government open-sourced it to the public for free, and translated it into a bunch of languages. It’s supposed to be the most secure peer-to-peer router ever created. It’s so secure that the Russians themselves can’t decrypt the traffic.”

    “That sounds pretty interesting. I know the Russians are known for being privacy advocates, but I’m still concerned that it might be a little too dangerous to send a message like that online, even with a router as secure as that one,” said Pangloss.

    “But look at this,” she said while showing him her phone, “Their logo is a cartoon peach. It’s so cute, and their motto is ‘Keep it Peachy.’”

    “Yeah, it looks like they’ve spent a lot of money on graphic design and branding, which is always a good sign, but what if your computer is compromised? What if your connection isn’t secure when you go to download the router, and someone is able to intercept it? The government could have already backdoored your laptop and hijacked its DNS. VPN or not, your message would get intercepted. Think about it. You don’t want to be the person without a chair, that everyone is staring at, when the music stops playing.”

    “You’re right. I’ll let my friend in Paris know that I’m coming, but I won’t tell her why. We haven’t hung out in a while, so I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me.”

    “I’m getting a little hungry,” said Pangloss, “and I can’t stop thinking about donuts ever since you mentioned them earlier. Do you want to go grab something to eat?”

    “Yes! I thought you’d never ask. I’m starving and I know this hip little donut shop just down the street. I used to go there all the time when I lived here. Let’s go, I want to show you. It’s only a few blocks away.”

    As the two of them stepped outside, the sun had already set and the sky was getting darker by the minute. They made their way a few blocks down the street to the little local doughnut shop. The place was small and quaint, but there was a line that wrapped around the block and the people in line were laughing and smoking and carrying on like the line was the reason for coming.

    “Wow, I didn’t realize how popular this place was,” said Pangloss.

    “I know. Pretty crazy, huh?” said Robin. “There’s an old legend that the infamous Marie Laveau once visited this donut shop and cursed the land that it was built on.”

    “That sounds horrible. Maybe we should go somewhere else,” said Pangloss as he laughed.

    “It’s not what you think though. According to the legend, there was a local Portland businessman, a real tycoon of the area, who ate donuts at this shop like clockwork every Sunday. The man became involved in a legal dispute and won the battle in court, but Marie Laveau was paid by the offended party to make the man suffer.”

    “Who is Marie Laveau?” asked Pangloss.

    “Some called her a Priestess and others, the Voodoo Queen,” she replied. “And she cursed this donut shop to make the businessman suffer.”

    “I don’t understand. Why curse the shop instead of just cursing him?” asked Pangloss.

    “Well, according to the legend,” she said, “the curse made the donuts in this shop so delicious that the businessman became addicted to them. He began eating them twice a week, then daily, then every hour. He began gaining weight so uncontrollably that it ultimately led to his untimely death from obesity a few years later. The curse continues to this day, and it takes hold of all of those who eat here. But the shop is so popular and busy, no one wants to stand in line more than once a week. Otherwise, they’d all die of obesity too.”

    Pangloss stopped to look at her and smiled, then instinctually put his arm around her as she naturally put her arms around him at the exact same moment. Leaning in again like she was about to kiss him, she moved in closer, then stopped. With a playful tap of her finger on his lips, she said, “Not yet,” then grabbed his hand to pull him into the line.

    “Back at Powell’s bookstore, you mentioned the ‘tunnels’ to Tom,” said Pangloss, “What were you guys talking about?”

    “I haven’t told you about the Shanghai tunnels yet?” she asked.

    “No, we talked about a lot on the car drive down here, but I don’t think you ever mentioned those,” said the Professor.

    “Well, back in the 1800s, Portland was known as the ‘Forbidden City of the West’ and the Shanghai Tunnels were built beneath the old Chinatown to connect bars and hotels underground to the shipping docks down by the river.”

    “That was here?” asked Pangloss.

    “Yeah, right below us. It gets more interesting though. The tunnels became a hotbed of illegal activities like prostitution and liquor smuggling during prohibition. They get their name though from all the men who were ‘shanghaied’ through hidden trap doors in bars and knocked out to be sold to ship captains as slave crew for the trips back to China. The unsuspecting victims would wake up on the deck of a ship and be forced to work for nothing or starve.”

    “Wow, that’s intense,” he said, “I had no idea that sort of thing used to happen.”

    “Well, some say that the stories of shanghaied sailors and people held in cages were completely exaggerated,” Robin replied, “but there is no doubt that the tunnels were the center of crime and corruption in the city back in those days.”

    “So can you still go down in the tunnels today?” asked Pangloss.

    Before Robin could say anything, a thin young man in line behind them, who was dressed in goth attire, replied, “Oh yeah, they do tours down in the tunnels all the time.”

   The young goth had pale white skin and was tall and slender with jet-black hair and dark circles under his eyes. His girlfriend, standing next to him, had chocolate-colored skin, thickly lined brown eyes, and dark, frizzy, brown hair down to her shoulders that bounced a little as she moved. She wore a black corset on top of her tight black pants and dark, black leather boots with chunky heels.

    “I went down there with some friends on Halloween one year. They say the place is haunted, and I could feel the ghost so close to me in the dark, its breath sent chills down my neck,” said the goth boy’s girlfriend.

    Robin smiled at her and replied, “Yeah, I’ve felt her presence too sometimes. I forget what people say her name was, but her presence feels comforting to me when I’m down there in the dark.”

    “Is that ‘On the Road’ you’re reading?” said a young, tall hipster with a handlebar mustache who was standing just beside the goth couple. He wore a vintage band t-shirt with high-waisted denim jeans and a pair of converse. “I really love Kerouac,” he continued. “Have you read Dharma Bums?”

    “Years ago,” she replied, “but I’d love to read it again up in the mountains while I’m hiking. It feels like he was so in touch with nature.”

    “And his body,” the hipster said with a tone of intrigue then continued, “His description of playing Yabium is so serene and spiritual, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked Robin with a look of intensity in his eyes.

    Robin smiled at him and replied, “Poetry, Yabium, and the mountains. Sounds like a spiritual paradise, wouldn’t you agree, Professor?” Then she grabbed Pangloss by the arm and looked him in the eyes.

    “Yes, searching for one’s Dharma,” he said to her and their neighbors, “is the endeavor of every spiritual person’s life. Poetry and nature are almost always a central part of that journey.”    

    As they reached the front of the line, everyone redirected their attention inside.

    “Which one of the donuts are you going to get?” asked Pangloss.

    “Oh, I can never decide, so I usually just order a dozen and tell them to surprise me, and I leave before I have time to change my mind,” she said to him with a laugh.

    “Ok, let’s do it!” he replied, and they rushed inside, ordered a random assortment of donuts, then rushed outside again before they could look to see what donuts they had been given.

    “Are you ready?” she said as they made their way away from the line.

    “Donut me up,” said Pangloss with a smile.

    She opened the box and picked one out for him and for herself and they took a bite at the same time.

    “Mmmm, this is so incredible,” said Pangloss. “I can already taste the curse.”

    “By the way,” Robin said, “There is something I’ve wanted to tell you all day but I didn’t quite know when I should tell you, so here goes. Full legal disclaimer: these donuts won’t give you AIDS… but I will… so, I won’t be offended if you want to get yourself another place to stay tonight.”

    Immediately Pangloss spit out his donut and leaned over to cough.

    Before he could respond, she continued, “Or, if you still want to hang out with me tonight, you can come stay with me down in the tunnels.”

    With the Professor still leaned over and coughing, she asked “Are you OK, honey? I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just like to get right to the point.”

    “Ok, slow down,” he said to her. “One thing at a time. The tunnels? I thought you said they were just a tourist attraction and that nobody used them anymore.”

    “That is sort of true, but technically there are parts of the tunnels that people can access that aren’t a part of the official tours,” she said. “And I was going to explain it to you, but the goth kid interrupted. Tom and I were talking about one of those places.”

    “Tom owns part of the tunnels?” Pangloss asked.

    “Well, not exactly. But the place he owns can only be accessed from the tunnels. Tom owns a little barber shop around the corner, but back in the day it was a front for an underground speakeasy hidden in the basement. During prohibition, the speakeasy operated around the clock and all sorts of illicit activities took place there. They eventually walled up the entrance from the front and made it accessible only from the tunnels. Tom’s grandfather kept the whole thing secret for years, even after the illegal activities stopped.”

    “Wow, this is crazy,” Pangloss said. “How many people know about this?”

    “Tom only found out about it later, after his father passed away. He found an old picture of him behind the bar when he was going through his stuff. In the same trunk that had the picture, he found a blueprint that included the plans for a basement underneath the barber shop he had just inherited. Tom lets his friends hold parties or stay down there sometimes, and that’s how I know.”

    “So, you’re telling me that there’s a secret speakeasy hidden in the basement below Tom’s barber shop, and you want me to stay down there with you tonight?” Pangloss asked.

    She looked at him with the sweetest, most vulnerable look he had ever seen on her face and replied, “If you want to.”

    Professor Pangloss closed his eyes and looked like he was about to cry for some time, but then his expression changed and he smiled while opening his eyes.

    “Of course,” he said, “I’d love to.”

    Like an explosion of color the two of them immediately embraced and they kissed each other more passionately than any kiss the Professor could ever remember. He held on tight, hoping the feeling of his lips against hers would never end, but when it did, she laid her head against his chest and he kept on holding her tight.

    “I’ve never told anyone this,” said Pangloss hesitantly, “but I have it too.”

    She looked up with wild eyes, even more excited than before and with a smile as big as the moon she said “I knew it! I could feel it. My AIDS’ar was sending me all kinds of crazy signals about you and I had a feeling you had it too.”

    “Really,” he said, “How could you tell?”

    “It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling that gets more accurate with time,” she said with her arms still wrapped around him, “Plus you’re kind of a big deal in the world which means you’re sort of high risk. I already knew the odds were leaning in that direction.”

    “What do you mean?” he said, stepping back for a second, “I’m high risk?”

    “Yeah, it sort of comes with territory doesn’t it?” Robin replied.

    “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you mean?”

    “Oh, honey, no one told you?” she said with a look of compassion.

    “Told me what? I don’t understand.” he said, confused.

    “No one told you, did they?” she then said with a more serious look, “Well, we need to fix that right away.”

    “Fix what?” he said with a tiny hint of desperation.

    “Open your mouth,” she told him.

    “What?” exclaimed Pangloss.

    “Just open your mouth,” she said again.

    So he reluctantly opened his mouth and she stuffed a donut in it.

  “Ok Professor,” she said, “listen up while you eat that donut. I’m going to yank you from the matrix, and I won’t lie, it’s probably going to hurt a little. Are you ready?”

    And with a mouthful of donut, he nodded for her to proceed.

    “Ok. You were never given the “rules” like I was, so listen up. FIRST: Just like the kings and queens of Europe never got syphilis, the power brokers and celebrities of today will never come down with HIV either. Have you ever heard of a popular, attractive woman with AIDS?”

    “No, I don’t think I have, now that you mention it,” mumbled Pangloss with a half-full mouth of donut.

    “That’s because it never happens. I think it’s written in the constitution somewhere between the 5th and 6th amendment. It’s a rule that even doctors are afraid to break.”

    “So what you’re saying is…” said Pangloss just before she interrupted.

    “What I’m saying is, they don’t get it. Don’t question why, because questioning it could be hazardous to your health.”

    “I see, which explains why no one has ever explained this to me,” replied Pangloss.

    “Exactly. You’re my hero. You’re the shining light of truth and reason in my life. I’ve imagined meeting you a thousand times and I pinched myself the other night when I saw you at the bar. I don’t explain all of this to everyone I meet, but if you’re going to hang out with me, you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

    “But…” said Pangloss, before he was interrupted again by Robin.

    “SECOND: you can go around telling everyone you know that you have AIDS if you want to, but you never reveal the identity or status of your lovers to anyone. Do you understand?”

    “Got it,” he said.

    “We’re here,” said Robin, “the entrance to the tunnels. I want to tell you more, but first let’s get inside.”