"Your aunt? Bring her along." Brother Owen smiled expansively. "I imagine she'll be thrilled to rub shoulders with the many celebrities attending the gala."
"I'll ask Aunt Millie, but I can't promise anything."
Brother Owen switched his attention to Alf. "I'm counting on you to bring Kylie and her Aunt Millie to the gala."
Dismay clouded Alf's features. I knew he'd do almost anything to avoid seeing Millie. "I dunno…"
"Thank you, Alf. I knew I could rely on you. Everyone, Tami will be advising you later regarding tickets, parking, and security procedures at the gala. Now, before we continue further, let us pray for guidance."
Clasping his hands on the table in front of him, he bowed his head and waited until the coughs and foot-shufflings had ceased.
"Guiding Spirit," Brother Owen began, using that singsong addressing-the-heavens tone I'd noticed preachers often favored, "in the darkness of the night you spoke to me, enlightened me. You revealed a revelation. 'Brother Owen,' you said, 'your vision of your role in the Church of Possibilities is too small, too limited, even though, according to the latest available figures, it is one of the most successful ministries in the world.'"
During the pause that followed, I opened my eyes. I reckoned the Guiding Spirit would know everything as a matter of course, but I had to admit I was surprised it seemed necessary to put in a mini-ad for COP while in the middle of a revelation.
Sneaking a quick look at the others, I found everyone but me had their eyes shut, except for Marty-O. He was glaring at a point on the table top so fiercely I found myself checking to see if he'd melted a hole.
"Guiding Spirit!" We were off again. I shut my eyes. "I am the leader of an immense and ever-growing flock, each person yearning to reach their God-given potential. Even as leader, it is humbling to find I, too, can be shaken with negative thoughts of uncertainty and indecision."
Another pause. "Yet at that murky moment-the dark night of my soul, if you will-your voice spoke to me, yet again. 'Brother Owen,' you said. 'Hark.' And I harked. Then came those inspiring, transcendental words: 'If Mel can do it, so can you, Brother Owen.'"
"Who's Mel?" I heard Chicka whisper.
"Not now!" Alf hissed.
Brother Owen was building to a crescendo. "Guiding Spirit! I accept this great task you have entrusted to me, and will bring it to full, glorious fruition. Amen!"
Sitting back with a satisfied sigh, he said, "So? What do you think?"
No one spoke. Chicka looked mystified. Alf was bewildered. Marty-O examined his fingernails.
"Could we have more details of the great task?" I said.
"Of course you may. The moment I had this revelation, and realized the Oz Mob characters were involved, I contacted Marty O. Ziema to discuss the concept in depth. Tell them, Marty-O."
Marty-O didn't look too happy. I reckoned he wasn't used to being treated like the hired help. He cleared his throat. "Brother Owen believes his life story is-"
"Not believes. Knows."
"Brother Owen knows his life story is the stuff of legend." Marty-O's voice had an irritating mosquito whine to it. "Religion is big at the box office. Religious books are at the top of best-seller lists. In these trying times, audiences are craving the spiritual, and to reach them effectively you need-"
"The multigenerational approach!" interrupted Brother Owen. "That was my revelation-to simultaneously reach out to the whole spectrum of humanity. To run the gamut from the very young to the very old, and everyone in between."
"Where's the Oz Mob come in?" asked Chicka, his face suspicious. "You're not trying to dump us, are you?"
Brother Owen appeared deeply offended. "Absolutely not. Let me explain my vision in its entirety, and your unreasonable fears will be laid to rest."
Brother Owen held up on finger. "First, the Brother Owen autobiography. My ghostwriter has almost finished the first draft. I'm calling it The Radiance of Brother Owen."
"Catchy title," I said.
He nodded. "I think so." He held up finger number two. "Second, the movie of my life. Tami?"
"It's a wonderful screenplay," said Tami. "Lamb White is throwing every resource into developing this project."
“I wrote the screenplay," announced Brother Owen with a proud smile. "The movie will also be called The Radiance of Brother Owen."
"Good tie-in," said Marty-O. "And you could have copies of your autobiography for sale at every cinema."
"Excellent idea. Tami, jot that thought down."
"If you wrote the screenplay, why didn't you write your autobiography too?" I wanted to know.
"If only I could have, my dear." He shook his head regretfully. "Every moment to me is so valuable. The screenplay I dashed off in a week or so, but books have so many more words, and I have so little time. A ghostwriter was imperative. Of course, I'll be overseeing every word, every phrase."
"Mate, this is all very interesting," said Alf, "but what about the Oz Mob?"
Brother Owen held up a third finger. "The Oz Mob movie is the third prong in my spiritual assault on the material world."
"We're well along with the Oz Mob screenplay, Brother Owen," said Tami, eager to please. "Our meeting today was particularly productive."
He waved a dismissive hand. "It'll have to be completely rewritten, and the title changed too."
"Rewritten?" said Tami faintly.
"Totally."
"But the concept's the same?"
"Haven't you been listening? The concept's entirely different."
"What's the new title?" demanded Alf.
"The Oz Mob in Eden."
"Evocative title," said Marty-O. "I see a tie-in with picture books. Pop-up ones, with the apple tree and serpent."
"Tami, jot that down."
"I don't get it," said Chicka, sounding really pissed-off.
"Visualize this!" Brother Owen commanded. "Picture the eager faces of children, as, accompanied by their loving parents, they flock to the cinemas. There they sit in the darkness, their enchanted eyes fixed on the images of those wonderfully cute Oz Mob creatures. Consider the impressionable young brains ready to be subtly imprinted with ways of thinking that will gently lead them, inevitably, to the Church of Possibilities."
Alf and Chicka looked each other, then at Brother Owen. "Look here," snapped Chicka, clearly very upset. "Five minutes ago Alf and I had a movie, and we had a script-even though it'd been buggered about with something awful. Now you're saying what? It's going to be something else altogether? We've got a signed contract, remember."
With a silky smile, Brother Owen said, "And I would advise you to read the fine print of that contract. You'll find you've given Lamb White the future movie rights to the animal characters. I want to work with you boys, but if you force my hand…"
"Standard practice," said Marty-O quickly. "Good for the Hartnidges. Good for Lamb White."
Obviously unhappy, Alf said, "So what's this new film about?"
"It will be a timeless story of a man named Adam and his God," Brother Owen enthused, "set in an Aussie Garden of Eden populated by adorable little animals."
"What happened to Eve?" I asked.
Brother Owen gave me a tolerant smile. "My dear young woman, being a foreigner, I can't expect you to be familiar with our philosophy. Let me be very clear. No child's eyes will ever see a naked man and woman together on the screen in a Lamb White movie."
Seventeen
"And then," I said to Ariana and Bob Verritt, "Brother Owen assured Alf and Chicka this was just the beginning. After the Garden of Eden, the Oz Mob characters would be starring in a series of biblical movies. There'd be Oz Mob and the Ten Commandments, Moses and the Oz Mob, Oz Mob and Sodom and Gomorrah, and-"
"Wait a minute," said Bob. "I thought Lamb White didn't show the naughty bits. Sodom and Gomorrah is loaded with sex. Deviant sex, at that."