Chapter 10: Shamanistic and Western Healing meet

The Clinic was still getting organized, but it was far enough along to cover the phones and do both walk-in and appointment work.

Clinic, Friday afternoon

“4-5 Foundation Medical Department. Sue Varim speaking.”

“Hello. My name is Bobbi Bennett. This may sound weird but give me a few minutes.”

Sue chuckled. “We like interesting weird around here.”

“I’m an anthropologist working for Walter Herrington at the University of Arizona. Specifically, I’m an ethnobiologist, or ethnopharmacologist if you prefer, especially interested in shamanic alternate consciousness. Mental journeys into the nonordinary reality, the shamanic state of consciousness, can come from drumming, dance, sex, or drugs. We call the drugs that produce spiritual perceptions entheogens.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to lecture. Here’s my point. Walter worked with Alfred and Betty Vandervoort and considers them dear friends and colleagues. Umm ... how much do you know about shamanism?”

“Nothing profound, but I did read Michael Harner’s book, and some of my pharmacology touched on folk beliefs like voodoo drugs.”

“Fantastic, Sue! We’ve encountered He’s been wondering if Alfred’s disconnection from reality might have anything in common with a shamanic trance, and if some of our research on recovery from bad shamanic journeys could help him. There seems to be some commonality between these journeys and with the zombie drugs.

“We have some ideas about reaching people that are stuck in the nonordinary reality of the Shamanic State of Consciousness. They’re multimodal. We try to avoid the drugs but will use lots of physical stimulation -- drumming, music, and body movement, and yes, sex. Drugs as a last resort. Obviously, these would be very experimental, but we wanted to present them to your neurology team.”o

She coughed. “I tried to mention this to Betty a while back, and I screwed it up. It was at a party, not the best time. I also was too drunk and made a pass at Betty somewhere in that. I’m pretty butch, but she still got pissed off and slugged me. I deserved it, approaching a woman who I suspected didn’t want any attention from other women.

“Anyway, are there others to whom I could talk? Could you help me apologize to Betty?”

Sue smiled. “This fight with Betty happened more than a couple of months ago, I’ll bet?”

“Yes.”

“Betty has changed her views on women quite a bit. The two of you could ... cough ... kiss and make up, maybe.

“I’m working with Alfred’s team tomorrow and maybe need some unwinding time on Monday. How’s that for you? Can we provide accommodations?

“I can fly in on Sunday.”

“We’ll send a driver to the airport. Want some friendly greeters Sunday night? I can think of some very interesting ones. In fact, start with me. I’m going to ask Iris to join us -- she’s a younger clone of Betty. “Sue giggled. “You can rehearse Betty-ness with her.”

Sue decided that she’d rather not complicate Betty’s life, even though Betty headed the social science and museum operations. She phoned Charley Begay, an anthropologist who consulted to them. As well as a fine academic reputation, he had a wicked sense of humor, as might be suspected of a Navajo who studied both native Americans and the dominant culture.

Sunday afternoon, Washington National Airport

Bobbi was pleasantly surprised to find that the fairies had upgraded her flights to first class. Most flights to National were limited to 1500 miles, but Senator John McCain had made a special exception for flights from Phoenix.

A black-suited man held a sign “B. Bennett”. “Dr. Bennett? I am Arnold McBee, driver, bodyguard, and generally good guy.” He grinned. “My role may be one of service, but no one expects me to be servile, merely civil.”

Sue, whose voice Bobbi recognized, chipped in, “Actually, he’s a wise-ass, but a really good one. Hi. I’m Sue.”

With her were several people, Nancy, Nathan, Iris, Charley, and Melina. They saw Bobbi, who was of medium height, solidly built but not fat. Even with a deep tan, her short hair still glowed, perhaps starting as a rich brown but sun-bleached to reddish gold by her fieldwork. She wore a relaxed black muscle shirt, and cargo shorts revealing very muscular legs in comfortable running shoes.

Sue’s first reaction was butch, but not crazy butch. I can work with her. Iris, who could be most dramatic with her legs, had a flash thought of tribbing Bobbi.

“Let’s get in,” said Sue, “and I’ll make some introductions. She gestured. “This is Nancy, our medical director, with whom you’ve also talked, and Nathan, her SO and rehab manager. Charley is another anthropologist and one of our leads in that area. Melina and Shelly mix cultural history with social science.

“Charley is Betty’s son. Iris is here ... um ... representing Betty, who is her mentor in dance and other stuff. Let’s also say that Shelly is Iris’ assistant.” Bobbi did a doubletake at the way that Iris was a near double of Betty, and she could see the resemblance, even though Charley was most masculine.

In the limo, Iris slid in on one side of Bobbi and Nancy on the other, with Nathan to Nancy’s side, and Sue next to Iris. Shelly and Melina sat facing them, on either side of Charley.

Iris wore an outfit that Bobbi learned was derived from one of Betty’s favorites. Her blouse was on the bluish side of off-white, in a satiny raw silk that brought the image of the most luxurious silk pajamas to mind, begging to be stroked. A second glance revealed that while the blouse was completely buttoned, even with a bright blue cameo brooch around her neck, her breasts strained at it, and a couple of the buttons were definitely under stress. The color of the blouse set off her golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her lipstick was a brilliant red, and her eye makeup emphasized the intense color of her eyes.

What at first appeared to be a knee-length dark skirt turned out to be black leather, and a wrap-around that fell open, revealing warm tan hose with a dark band setting off her bare skin. Bobbi didn’t see obvious panties or tan lines, but she wasn’t looking closely.

“Bobbi, if you haven’t figured it out, a large part of the mission of the Foundation is the exploration, scientifically, culturally, and personally, of sexuality. Open marriage isn’t the right term but assume you won’t offend anyone with innuendo or invitation. Respect a “no”, but you aren’t likely to hear one.” Iris’ leg brushed warmly against Bobbi’s. Her hand lightly touched Bobbi’s leg. “Do think of doing to me whatever you might like to do to Betty. We’ll talk more about this.”

Nancy’s fingers lightly touched Bobbi’s shoulder. Nancy was also quite busty, but in a quieter way, both in makeup and clothing, than Iris. She wore a denim miniskirt and a tank top that revealed much cleavage and no bra. When Bobbi turned and smiled at Nancy, she was aware of Nathan stroking Nancy’s far leg, displaying it to Bobbi.

“Oh hell. I’ll take a risk.” Bobbi slipped an arm around Iris and kissed her lips, triggering an enthusiastic tongue. Iris pulled Bobbi’s hand to the bare skin above her stocking, skin that was hot to her touch.

Nancy coughed, and when Bobbi turned her head, found Nancy wiggling her tongue at her, with Nathan starting to fondle Nancy’s breasts. On the end of the seat, Sue giggled. “Just a warmup now. Bobbi, do get the idea that you’re most welcome.”

Sunday evening, the 4-S Complex

Iris and Charley took Bobbi to a guest suite, where Tana met them. “It’s no accident that we are the ones settling you in, because we think we can help relax things between you and Betty.” Bobbi found it difficult to avoid staring at Tana, beginning with her cascade of red hair. Tana wore a casual but stretchy mini-length violet dress, against which her hair flamed.

“Betty, at first, was a lead dancer who, because she did other mundane things, didn’t publicize her involvement with us. She has continued her research and writing, which we support.

“To be honest, I don’t remember all the details, but while sexual contact with women initially repelled her, as the environment became more and more welcoming, she tried it and liked it.

“It really was a coincidence that she and I look and even dress alike. Most people don’t realize that she is old enough be my mother--they tend to think sisters.

“How about Charley and Tana giving the two of us a massage to start? We also can eat. Either way, let’s see what you and I get off, with me playing Betty. That might sound silly, but I’ll bet we can help you work out fear before you meet her in person. Shelly is here because she’s Iris’ bottom and loves to serve.”

Bobbi nodded, giving Iris a hungry gaze. “Great. Eat first, and let’s do the massages. I’m going to tell you that I like the sense of being naughty, even dirty. Iris, if you don’t mind me being frank, some of my favorite imagery comes from a Dom called Master Aiden:

“If you’re going to play these dirty games of ours, then you might as well indulge completely. It’s all about turning back into an animal and that’s the beauty of it. Place your guilt on the sidewalk and take a blowtorch to it (guilt is usually worthless anyway). Be perverted, be filthy, do things that mannered people shouldn’t do. If you’re going to be gross then go for it and don’t wimp out.”