Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 26

The hospital of the Sisters of Faith was silent. It had taken all day and most of the night for Freement to tell his story. The pale streams of light shining through the opening in the door, outlined his weary face. He waited anxiously for his roommate to express his opinion, but Gregory said nothing.
"That's it Gregory. That's my life."
The older man still remained silent.
"Was my story so boring, it's lulled you to sleep?"
Annoyed by Gregory's impassivity, he stood between the beds, studying the old man. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he began to shake him.
"Wake up old man. Make your judgement of me like the others. Do you also think I'm a devil?"
"What a terrifying story..."
"To hell with the story...Do you think I was wrong? Are they justified in damning the new saviour of the world?"
"You're pathetic John. You condemn hypocrisy, yet hypocrisy is the basis of this freak personality you've made for yourself. Your story is a lie."
John became furious with these remarks. "Goddamn you...It's the truth. I swear it. I've lived every word of it."
"By whom do you swear? By God? No my friend. It's not your fearsome tale I accuse. It's the lie you've been living since you were a small boy. It's this falsehood which has produced the devil Freement. And what is even worse, you have passed your living lie on to others. You've destroyed their young minds with your corrupt irresponsibility."
"Jesus. you're no better than the others. Stop being so goddamn pompous and realize I gave my followers a formula for mental freedom. They believed what I told them, because I gave them the truth. Freement is the only one who had the courage to speak the truth."
"Truth...you don't even know what truth is. You've made a mockery of it. Even now you won't face the truth."
"You're wrong old man. Look at me. I've practised what I've preached. I've gained mental freedom. Look at me...I'm free."
It seemed hopeless trying to talk sense with this madman.
"Yes, look at you! Standing there proclaiming your freedom, surrounded by the four walls of your prison. How terribly sad. In your search for mental freedom, you've even lost your physical freedom."
"But I was right. I can't help it if my captors lacked the intelligence to recognize the truth. It must have been right. My movement is thriving. and when my followers learn about my capture, they'll come in force and free me."
"Your theories are lies, just like your life."
"Impossible. My disciples would not support a liar."
"Young people would support anyone who would make them as free as you promised. They too are looking for freedom from responsibilities. Don't you see John. all this nonsense developed out of your inability to accept blame. In truth, it all goes back to your brief sexual experience with your little sister Ruthy. You even said yourself, that was the reason you decided to go to Amston to study for the priesthood. Just imagine what your life could have been if you had the courage to accept responsibility for your sins. And believe me John. you have led a very sinful
life. The sordid details of it would be capable of corrupting me had I not spent my life contemplating the sufferings of Jesus."
"Shut up old man. You call me a liar, but you pray to Christ, history's greatest liar. There is no God, and without God, Christ is just another nervy Jew who was put in his place."
"Stop this blasphemy my boy. No matter how you try to prevent it. God will intrude your life, even here in this prison."
"No...never. I've destroyed God. Man is just a material being. I'll destroy everything that gets in my way of freedom."
"Like you did those two unfortunate women?"
"Yes...like I did them...stop putting words in my mouth. That is done and forgotten. No one must ever know. Promise me Gregory you'll never tell. Oh what the hell, I don't care if you do tell. I'm through talking Gregory. My head is hurting. I need to rest."
Freement dropped onto his bed. The unrelenting pounding in his head made him move fitfully as he tried to force himself to sleep.
Gregory slipped his shoes off, and moved quietly to John's bed. At first the young man was not aware of what was happening. Gregory placed his hand gently on his shoulder. Suddenly Freement shot up in bed.
"Take your hands off me you sonofabitch. I thought you were different. You're just like that other raping monster."
"I only want to help."
"So was he...Keep away from me. I'm warning you. No one can push Freement around. You touch me again you bastard and it'll be the last time you touch anyone."
"You're desperately sick John. I'm sure even your so called captors don't realize how disturbed you are."
"So that's your judgement of me. I'm crazy. I wasn't responsible...Well that's where you're wrong old man. I did all those things because I was fed up being trapped by my own mind. I had to break away and I did. I'm free now and no matter what they do, they can't stop Freement."
"Free...How can you say you're free. You are trapped in the most ironic of traps. Your unbelief has made you a prisoner of the Sisters of Faith. You have committed mortal sin which can take you directly into hell unless you seek God's forgiveness, but you deny his existence. You even have to share your room with
an unfrocked priest, who because of his own sinning, no longer has the power to forgive you and relieve the tremendous guilt you are suffering. This is the freedom you have won for yourself. And the most ironic of all, here you must live with your conscience."
"Lies...all lies. You seemed to forget Gregory I no longer have a conscience. It's dead Gregory...dead."
"It is you who are mistaken my boy. I am your conscience. I know your entire life. You've made me your conscience John. Only now you've got a conscience you can see as well as hear. And as your conscience I implore you to fall on your knees and beg God's forgiveness before you go to sleep. Your soul is in the state of mortal sin, and should you die without forgiveness, you will spend eternity in the consuming fires of hell."
"Shut up...shut up you lying bastard. You're worse than the others. You're not satisfied punishing my body, you want to destroy my mind as well. I'm not afraid of dying. Dying is the natural end of man."
"No use talking anymore. You can't lie to yourself forever. Macdonald Burney was right. There is a place of infinite punishment for sin, I, your conscience, swears to it."
"No...no. You're not my conscience. I've destroyed it. I killed it once. I can do it again."
"How do you propose doing it?"
"By destroying you Gregory. Nothing will ever stop Freement, not even you."
He lunged in the darkness at the old man, seizing him by the throat. Gregory had strong arms, but his heart could not stand the strain. He tried desperately to break the younger man's grip, but Freement brought his knee up and smashed the old man in the face, and hurled him to the floor. Pouncing heavily on top of his victim, he grabbed a shoe from under the bed, and began pummelling him in the face. Unmercifully he clutched Gregory's throat, squeezing it with superhuman strength like he had done to his previous two victims. As Gregory struggled against the killing fingers, the light began to fade, then the air, and the sound. A sharp piercing pain in the centre of his chest radiated towards his left shoulder and down the arm to his fingers. In his pain, he formed a fist with his left hand. The youth, thinking he was going to make another break for freedom, smashed him bitterly on the face with the heel of his shoe. At last it was over. The young man sitting astride his victim began to shout.
"You made me do it. I told you to stop, but you wouldn't. It's always been this way. I'm not a devil. It's the devils in my life who push me too far...I told you I killed my conscience, and now you know I wasn't lying. I have killed it."
Getting up from the corpse, he struggled to get Gregory to his feet. The heavy carcass slipped from his grip and fell onto the bed, in a sitting position. John fell onto the other bed, trying to regain his strength. Several minutes passed before he could stop gasping for air. Sitting up, he looked across at his handiwork. The dim light coming through the door glistened eerily in the icy stare of the dead eyes of Gregory. They had not closed.
"No...no...stop looking at me...I've killed my conscience, but it keeps staring at me...it's that goddamn albatross again. He charged at the corpse and struck it across the face shouting.
"Die...damn you die...and let me be free."
The body fell on its side and the frantic youth began screaming through the bars in his door.
"Help...help me. Freement needs your help. I've killed my conscience but it keeps staring at me."
A nun on night duty shone a flashlight into his cell. She saw Gregory's deathly gaze and ran to get help. Returning with two orderlies carrying a canvas jacket with many straps dangling from it, they carefully opened the door. The madman ran to the window and extended his arms.
"Come and crucify me like you did the other Christ. Freement will die for his movement."
The only cross they gave him was when they crossed his arms in front of him and buckled the straps in back. Gently they guided him out of the cell to another cell which had no furnishings.
John rushed to the barred window. Feeling the early, morning air on his face. he began to scream.
"At last I'm free. I can do anything I want, and no one can stop me."

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Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 25

The citizens of Chathurst were in shock when they discovered the devastation wrought on their churches and temples. The media reported the event as a rape of their holy places. Everyone was appalled at the malicious desecration and outrageous graffiti which despoiled their sanctuaries.
On my orders, all Freementers went underground. In an attempt to get back at me, Rick had joined forces with my enemy on campus, Chuck Earnshaw. Together, with some of his yellow and whites they raided our Lighthouse Mission. One of Chuck's former supporters who had defected to me, warned me of the raid. I notified the police about the imminent attack and told them these guys were the same group which had wrecked the churches. Under terrific public pressure to find a lead on the vandalism outbreak, the police were excited to receive my anonymous phone call.
From across the street, Stu and I watched the cops bust fat Earnshaw and his yellow and white sheep into three police vans. They were charged with causing malicious damage. In all, it only amounted to a couple of broken windows and a busted door. They failed in their efforts to convince the police, their attack on
our centre was in retaliation for our desecration of the churches. Apparently Rick spilled his guts, but to no avail. No one would believe his fantastic story about the Freementers.
Nothing could be done unless we were caught, and I wasn't going
to let that happen. Those who helped in our raid continued spreading my theories, and Freement's influence was being felt in every home. Parents didn't know how to explain to their children what it was they feared. They only knew that somewhere in their midst, an uncontrollable cancer was spreading, and like organic cancer, they had that sickening feeling that given enough time, it would destroy them.
During the remainder of that school year, and the following summer, Freement stayed underground. I conducted meetings with small groups under the very noses of the parents who feared me. They were so sure nothing would ever happen to their own families, they didn't bother to enquire into the activities which took place in their rec rooms while they were out. If parents came in while we were having a meeting, I gave the impression we were discussing philosophy, and they seemed pleased their children were at last taking life seriously.
Stu and I developed a hard core of discussion leaders during the summer, and when time to return to school came, my Freement movement was strong enough to continue on its own. I quit pushing my theories at University because I sensed I was being watched very closely. I didn't have to rely on convincing these pseudo intellectuals of the merits of my philosophy. I had the teenagers hooked on my permissive way of life, and the ideas of Freement were spreading like a forest fire through the dried up tinder of Chathurst mores.
A committee was organized in the city to counteract my influence by providing better activities for the young people, but the kids resented this interference by their parents in their lives even more than before.What the parents failed to realize, was that Freement treated these young people as responsible adults, and once they tasted liberty, they were not going to be vamped back into the artificial controls from which they had escaped.
We were no longer restricted to the Skid Row area. Youth groups throughout the city were invaded by staunch Freementers. PTA groups were alarmed by the outbreak of delinquency in their schools. More and more editorials appeared damning the originator of these cruel principles. I ridiculed all this fuss over my ideas. Parents tried desperately to convince their children of the danger of my philosophy, and yet none of these parents attended my meetings. It was the same as it was when I was growing up. Many parents insisted on their children attending church, while they wouldn't bother going themselves. I was sure that if adults had taken the time to learn about my way of life, many of them would've welcomed the destruction of their hypocritical existence, and chosen a more liberated lifestyle.
Our first attack on the churches had been sufficient to convince the people of Chathurst that Freement was a serious movement. Many of the congregations employed night watchmen to protect their premises from vandalism, but a year and a half after that fateful night, even this practice was discontinued. My own low profile at University was also lulling that element into passivity. I felt the time was right to focus attention on our group again. We met at Ma Rooney's.
"I've got a special job for you guys. You're going to have to do it alone, because I'd be recognized. There's an off-beat religious group in this town that so far, has been spared the wrath of Freement. The time has come for us to strike at their hypocritical heart."
"The City of God?" asked Stu.
"You've guessed it. Sunday night I want that place filled with Freementers. Spread out, and bring them in from all over the city. I don't want anyone recognized. When they get there, mingle with Burney's sheep. When Mac gets to the part where all the lights go out, that'll be the signal to strike. He tries to scare hell out of his people at that time. I expect you to make it a real hell."
"How far do you want us to go?"
"All the way. Don't leave a stone standing. Burn it. Convert that phoney hell into a flaming inferno."
"But what about the people? Some of them are going to get hurt. We might get hurt too."
"Not if you force them out before you torch it. Stu, I'm leaving it up to you to organize it, but I don't want you there. You're too valuable to risk."
"Okay Marty. What about Burney?"
"He'll run like everyone else."
"And what'll you be doing when all this goes down?"
"Establishing my alibi. Good luck guys."
After classes on Friday, I stopped by Dr. Woltmann's office.
"What's the problem Mr. Martindale?"
"No problem sir. As you know, we have to complete our fall term essays this week, and I could sure use you're help on mine. I was wondering if you might be available Sunday evening to discuss it with me?"
"Why wait until Sunday. I could see you tomorrow."
"I won't be quite ready tomorrow. Sunday would be better."
"Then Sunday it is. How about eight?"
"Thank you professor. I'll be here at eight."
By Saturday afternoon, all was prepared. Fifty Freementers had been selected. The day of reckoning for Macdonald Burney drew near. I briefed Stu on my alibi. and eagerly waited for the end of the "City of God".
Sunday evening I met Dr. Woltmann in his office where I presented my thesis on why I felt the stigma of Original Sin thwarted the freedom of man, and we spent a couple of hours debating my theory.
Shortly after ten, I heard the distant wail of a fire siren. It could mean only one thing. They had succeeded. I looked at my watch. Woltmann checked his too."
"My word, it's after ten."
"Where'd the time go?"
"That's what I like about discussions like this," he said. "You lose the sense of time passing. It's a very interesting essay John. You'll do well on it once you rewrite parts of it for effectiveness."
"Thanks a lot professor. You were a great help."
There was another siren, rushing towards town, with its long, haunting wail. I was hoping desperately the fires of hell were now consuming the City of God.
"Sounds like a fire downtown."
"Yes it does."
"Thanks again Dr. Woltmann for giving me so much of your time."
"Pleased to help. I'm particularly glad it's you John."
"Why do you say that?"
"I've noticed a great change in you this semester. No more of that Freement foolishness. I'm glad to see you've outgrown that protest phase."
"I haven't completely. But as you've said, there's no reason I should disrupt the lives of others just because I have doubts."
I returned to my room at Ma Rooney's and waited for Stu. He came in a little after midnight.
"Well...How'd it go?"
"Perfect. The City of God looks like Hell. I watched it from across the street. The gang caused a terrific riot. Everyone got out though."
"And Burney'?"
"They took him to the hospital. He got burned pretty bad."
"Good...Good I'm glad."
"Jesus Marty! He could have been killed."
" It's better this way. The sonofabitch got what he deserved. All that bullshit about burning in the fires of hell. He got exactly what he deserved, a taste of his own medicine."
"You hate him that much?"
"More than you'll ever know. Without Mac Burney, I doubt there would be a Freement."
"Then why do you say you hate him?"
"Because there are a lot of things about Freement I don't like. Burney and all the other religious fanatics like him polarize people like me. We don't give in to their fundamentalism. We just fight back. He's the one that has made me reject myself and form the Freement idea."
"Jesus, the way you're talking, you sound like you hate yourself almost as much as you hate him."
"Between you and me Stu I think you1re right. That's what's happened. That's what vengeance can do to a person. Someday, I might let you in on the whole story. Believe me, there are things I could tell you that would make you wretch. Dying would have been too good for Burney. Let the bastard suffer. He's caused so much of it himself."
The morning papers reported the attack.
"The City of God and the stores on each side of it were destroyed Sunday night by fire. The pastor, Reverend Macdonald Burney was seriously hurt during a riot which broke out at his service. The church, which was in the old Grotto Theatre was completely destroyed by fire, when spotlights on stage were smashed by a group of young people who had infiltrated the congregation. Reverend Burney told police he was convinced it was the work of Freementers, the same group alleged to have desecrated fourteen churches in Chathurst several months ago. Police are
investigating."
By noon on Monday, I was placed in campus custody and ordered to appear before a board of University staff members, chaired by the president, Dr. Murray Both. Included on the panel, was chief inspector Wayne Hillman of the Chathurst arson squad When word of my arrest spread, hundreds of Freementers skipped classes and crowded the halls outside the hearing room.
Dr. Both began the questioning.
"Mr. Martindale, you have been accused of establishing a subversive movement on campus which has spread its devastating influence among the young people of our city. Many believe it was on your orders that several churches were vandalized a year and a half ago. All of this apparently has something to do with your so called Freement movement to destroy religion. Last night, you and your thugs attacked another place of worship, and destroyed it, almost killing the pastor, Reverend Macdonald Burney..."
"Hold it Doctor. Do I get a chance to speak or are you going to do all the talking?"
"Why you..."
"Let me handle this Doctor Both." said inspector Hillman. "Martindale, we've been waiting a long time to get something on you. If I had my way, you'd still be doing time for your last attack on the churches. Dr. Both has suggested we handle this matter differently."
"How do you mean differently?"
"We all realize you've had a terrific influence on our teenagers, and attacking you personally may cause more harm than good. Therefore, we hope that by seeing what a terrible destruction of our young people these ideas of yours have caused, you will help us straighten them out."
"Me?"
"Yes. You're the only one who can help us turn this mess around."
"How?"
"We will let you remain free, if you will get your followers together and tell them you realize how wrong you've been. We want you to work with us to give our kids the proper way to live."
"Ha, Ha, Ha,...It's not them you're worried about. It's yourselves. You're trying to save your own asses."
The president became livid. "We don't have to take this abuse."
"Watch it Doc. You'll bust a blood vessel."
Inspector Hillman calmed the president and tried to get at me from another angle.
"Burney identified you last night as the leader of that mob."
"He's a goddamn liar."
Other staff members were shocked by my language. Dr. Marshall put in her two cents worth. "Martindale is an egotistical exhibitionist. Everything he says is chosen carefully for its shock effect. I have no doubt this young man is mentally unbalanced."
Jumping up from my chair, I slammed my hand down on the table in front of Marshall.
"This frustrated bitch has been trying to get even with me ever since I made her look like a retard in front of her students. She's as vindictive as Mac Burney."
"That's not true. I've been watching you over the past few years, and what I've said is for your own good."
"You're a liar like Burney. There are several students outside this room who will swear that what I said about your class is true."
"Sit down and shut up Mr. Martindale. I will not let this hearing degenerate into a shouting match between you and my staff"
"Hillman's got nothing on me."
"You were identified as the leader of the mob."
"How could I be.? I was here with Dr. Woltmann last night. In fact we heard the sirens."
"Is he telling the truth?" asked Hillman.
"Yes. We had a long discussion about his term essay. I remember we heard the sirens, and I checked my watch. It was a little after ten o'clock."
"Now who is the liar inspector?" I asked.
"Well if you weren't there, I know you can tell us who was. If you'll come clean, we'll take it easy on you."
"Jesus. You sound like a cop in a ‘B' grade movie."
The president begged me. "Please Mr. Martindale. You've got to help us. This university has a good reputation, but you and your Freement ideas are ruining it. You are right. We are concerned about ourselves. But we are also gravely concerned about the devastation we see in our youth community. Young people who use your concepts have become prostitutes, addicts, thieves, and who knows probably even murderers. You've got to help us stop this violence before it destroys our lives."
"Don't load me with your guilt. The evil you have described has always been with you. It was your hypocrisy which has covered it up all these years. You may despise what my teachings are doing to your children, but you have blindly allowed your religious prohibitions to create generations of frustration because of your Judaeo-Christian ethic, a system of morality based upon the false premise that our world was created from nothing. How can you expect anything else when you endorse this historical lie."
" I've tried to give your children the truth. As with all revolutions, in the beginning, there are bound to be distortions of these truths. That is why you are seeing these perverse behaviours. Give it time. As my followers develop more
experience about themselves, they will begin to realize that knowledge is what gives freedom, not blind faith. When this knowledge is consolidated, you will see them return to a moral way of life based on social need, not religious compulsion."
"It is this same glibness which has seduced our young," said Dr. Both.
"Look who's pointing the accusing finger. Even your remarks clearly show your prejudice against Freement. Without knowing the basis for my thinking, you characterize it as glibness, and my influence on your children has to be through seduction...Come on you guys. Give me a break. Either talk sense, or let's end this
ridiculous charade."
"He's crazy," said Marshall. "The man's evil. If we don't stop him now, there's no saying what horrible future awaits us."
"What do you want me to do about it?" asked Dr.Toth.
"Expel him. Let the public know that we have found this dreadful person and we have thrown him out of our university."
"I can't believe this," I said. "Do you think that Freement needs this place to do his work? Why don't you all grow up for Chrissake and see that I'm only trying to bring to an end at last, this horrendous damage caused by academics like you. Now
that I have hundreds of followers out there, there's no stopping me."
"May I suggest we give John a chance to express the ideas he has been telling our young people," said Dr. Woltmann.
"Never. I forbid it. I'll not tolerate his lies anymore. I want you off campus...and I want it now."
"You're condemning me without a hearing. What are you trying to do, make a Christ out of me?"
"I'm condemning you on the product of your theories, the cancer that devours the spirit of our young. I ask God to thrust you into Hell where you belong, to burn with the other monsters who spread sin in our world."
I clapped my hands when he was finished. "Bravo...Get yourself a bible and you'll make a mint."
He struck me in the face twice. I made no attempt to defend myself. The utter frustration on his face was worth the momentary pain.
"And now my friends...good day."
In the corridor outside the hearing, a loud roar went up as I appeared. Everyone wanted to touch me and congratulate me as I passed between them.
Outside, Stu waited for my report.
"How'd it go?"
"Better than I expected. A cop claimed Burney saw me at the fire and I was soon able to squelch that. These guys are running scared. They're beginning to realize at last that their kids are now taking control, and it scares the hell out of them. Both expelled me."
"I'm sorry Marty."
"I'm not. Getting a degree and playing their silly games doesn't turn me on anymore. All I want to do now, is concentrate on developing the Freement movement. That's going to be my life's work."
"The cops will be on you all the time."
"True. That's why we've got lots to do and I mean like right now."
"Where do we start?"
"Tonight I want as many Freementers as possible to meet in that abandoned schoolyard outside of town where route seven and twenty-one cross. Tell them I'll be there with a message which will shake this city off its hypocritical foundations."
They had called me anti-Christ. Of course I was against Christ. I was against all his teachings that made man less human. He had given man only one commandment ‘love thy neighbour'. Man is too vicious to love his fellow man. There is no love only greed. I could see that the recognition of what man truly is, frees man to pursue his main goal in life the satisfaction of needs.
Stu had come through again for me. Hundreds and hundreds of teenagers had come to the meeting. Cars circling the huge gathering flashed their lights over the throng. Two of my followers had dragged an old out-house into the centre of the
schoolyard for me to use as my podium. As I came through the crowd they cheered, reaching out to touch me. I felt like Jesus entering Jerusalem. Stu walked beside
me. He was my St. Peter. If anything happened to me I knew Stu would take my place. Together we would lead the people of the world to mental freedom.
"Welcome loyal Freementers. We are winning the battle for men's minds. I've asked you to come here tonight because my time is at hand. Today I was expelled. Tomorrow I may be persecuted. But I'm not afraid. Freement is willing to die for his movement."
A loud roar went up from the mob. It was electrifying.
"The only thing I fear, is that I may die in vain. Promise me you will not let your leader give his life in vain. Promise me you'll devote your lives to making all men free."
The shouts were overwhelming. "We promise. We promise."
"I wish to leave you what I call my Freement code. The first of my rules opposes the rule of Moses requiring children to Honour their Mother and Father. Under the old system, your parents were progenitors of slaves. I order you to despise
these slave makers. Get out from under their control as soon as you can. If you have younger brothers and sisters still under this former control, help them become independent. If you want to be free, you must be willing to seize your freedom. No one is going to give it to you...certainly not your parents."
"Moses also commanded his people not to steal. Can't you see. our capitalistic system is based on stealing? Our system condones the exploitation of the masses, while at the same time giving lip service to our Judaeo-Christian ethic. Freement urges you to destroy this insidious double standard. Take what you need if the need is strong enough. Don't load up your mind with ridiculous guilt because you are only trying to survive."
"Adultery is another one of the Jewish leader's prohibitions. What utter nonsense. You are all going to get whatever kind of sex you desire, so why precondition yourself for the psychiatrist's couch in the future. Accept any and all sexual conduct as the natural course of man's development. Different strokes for different folks. Anything goes dear Freementers. You are either free, or you're pretending. Remember what I told you before, man must destroy his conscience, and this requires hard decisions to deliberately go against this internal watchdog, this
‘Hound of Heaven'. Adultery does not exist. A true Freementer does what he can to help a fellow Freementer get the satisfaction he seeks. Screw your way to freedom my friends. Plant the seed of Freement in all the little virgins who come your way. The future is yours, take it."
"And I've had a difficult time with the commandment, ‘Thou shalt not kill.' It was difficult, because our present system legislates when we can legitimately kill. War is okay, but murder is not. Do you see what a contradiction this is. Freement does not urge you to kill your fellow man. There is such a thing as justifiable killing. This is probably the ultimate test of your freedom. To take the life of another person is no easy decision, but when you are truly free, you can make this decision without remorse. Your free mind will tell you when there is no other choice for you. It is not wrong if it is absolutely necessary. You will understand this new commandment better when your situation demands it. Killing is a natural function of a progressive society."
"I know many of you are thinking I'm being too extreme. You cannot be a true Freementer without making your prime objective the destruction of your own conscience. Following my code of conduct will bring this about. It will not come easily. Only by combatting the years of conditioning will you understand what
true freedom means. It is my sincere hope, that once you have reached this unshackled existence, you will do whatever you can to help all men be truly free.
"There will be no need to go against conscience as you now must do. There will be no conscience. Man will be able to focus his attention on satisfying his many
needs. Out of all of this, I see a new world. Freement is not advocating crime. I want my new world to be a world devised by free men who will arrive at the necessary position of social morality which will help society prosper. But pay close attention
to what I have called it. It is ‘social morality', not religious morality."
"I want to leave you with one rule in your life. As Jesus said 'Love one another', Freement says, 'Love Thyself First,' and then it will follow, that you will love one another. There are going to be very difficult times ahead, but I'm counting on you to be there when you are needed. Go in peace with the love of freedom forever in your heart."
The ovation was ear rending. A tidal wave of accord wafted through the night air, as my followers realized this might be our last great gathering. I knew many of them would return to their former ways of living, because they couldn't stand the strain of battling the system. There was also a large hard core of young people who wanted to be a part of my revolution, and they would continue the fight.
The remaining two months before my capture were extremely hectic. Secret meetings were not as secret as I had hoped, and twice before I was finally caught, I narrowly managed to get away. Now it's over for awhile. I am a captive of the very thing I was trying to destroy. It won't last. My followers will free me.

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Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 24

During the first week back at school I had a meeting with the members of my original Freement cell. There were fifteen in all, who had remained faithful. Most of them had been away from Chathurst during the summer and I was eager to learn how effective my teachings had been. We met in the cafeteria. Jason Frame was the first to speak. I noticed a scar on his lip.
"Got that defending your ideas."
"Tell me about it."
"I took my vow as a Freementer seriously, and went out to practise the active phase of our movement, the deliberate interference with religious functions. I was passing this old theatre when I heard hymn singing. Some guy at the door saw I was
curious,and invited me in."
"At the front, on stage was this old guy in a black gown, standing under the words, 'City of God'. He was directing the music. The place was so packed, people were standing in the aisles. You should've heard this old bastard preach. He was a
fiery sonofabitch with a heavy Scottish accent. He scared hell out a everybody with the most horrendous descriptions of the devil."
"I remembered your story Marty about the girl who had been ruined by a guy like him..."
As Jason spoke, my hatred for Macdonald Burney was overwhelming. I hardly heard what he was saying. Looking at the reddish scar on his mouth, I could see the example of this monster's evil.
"...and when I said that, this old guy yells at two of his thugs to throw me out. He said something' like I was a servant of the devil. They yanked me through a side door into an alleyway and began pounding the piss outa me. I got in a few good licks at them too. But the one guy grabbed me from behind and held my arms so that I couldn't hit back, and his buddy loaded up and pounded me on the mouth. I guess he must've knocked me out at the same time, because I don't remember seeing them leave. When I came to, I was covered in blood... my blood, and my mouth was ripped open."
"All in the name of religion." I said.
The others told similar stories. It took great courage for them to stand up in the middle of a sermon and challenge the preacher. I assured them it had done as much for them as it had for the congregation.
"People aren't going to become Freementers overnight. It took Christ a long time to convert his followers. Even Peter, who was supposed to have been picked as the foundation rock of Christianity, denied Christ during his trial with Pilate."
"I'm proud of all of you. You've made a start, and now you realize how difficult it is to destroy the hound of heaven. If you received abuse, it will strengthen our cause. Tell the new members how hard it has been. We are not giving them an easy, permissive way of living. They must realize that without God, they will have to accept the full responsibility for their actions. This is no simple way to live. Your suffering attests to that. But believe me dear friends, this is the better way. You have sown the seeds, and someday we will reap a rich harvest."
Freementers were changing campus life. Because of my protests the previous year, there was no more hazing of freshmen. Discussions in class had become more active, as Freementers challenged the ideas which before were accepted quietly.
University staff showed an unease with the student demands for proof whenever they presented traditional ideas of religion and psychology. I had urged them to continue questioning authority until they got satisfactory answers.
Students looked up to me to exploit opportunities in class, expecting me to be unpredictable. Such unpredictability happened in Dr.Greenwood's English class when we were studying the "Ancient Mariner," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Eliciting opinions from the class about the interpretation of the poem, Greenwood
was invariably told that the poem referred to a trip taken by an old mariner to the Antarctic and back. The closest they came to symbolism, was the superstitious element surrounding the death of the albatross. This was the kind of debate I relished.
"Professor, I feel the class has missed the significance of the symbolism contained in this poem. Before we can understand these symbols, I think it's necessary to understand the man who has created them. During the Romantic period of literature, some authors resorted to the use of opium to help them create ideas. It's an accepted fact that the abstruseness of Coleridge's Kublai Khan can be accredited to the glimpses of the ethereal through a drugged mind."
"Very interesting Mr. Martindale. But what has that got to, do with the poem we are discussing?"
"Sir, I believe the albatross that hung from the neck of the mariner is a symbol of Coleridge's dope addiction. He has the mariner kill the ominous bird, just as he wilfully destroyed his muse when he resorted to this form of stimulation. The ancient mariner is symbolic of the poet's life. His trip to the south pole is really an introspective venture into his own psyche. It is there he realizes he has killed his imagination by his insidious vice, and this realization has made him acknowledge the fact externally by stringing the dead albatross from his neck for all the world to see. It was a form of public confession."
"The eyes of the dead sailors who went on this trip with him, represent the poet's conscience. Wherever he turns, he sees their eyes condemning him for destroying the power which made him different from other men. The problem begins to resolve itself once he has admitted his guilt. The same holds true for anyone who has denied their guilt. Eventually it surfaces. and damages with a force made more powerful by years of repression."
"Not so fast. You've given us a brilliant explanation of Coleridge's symbolism. but I don't quite see what you're getting at in those last two statements."
"The destruction of conscience Doctor. The abolishment of the symbols of religion. Get rid of the cross that traps us. It is our albatross."
A young girl jumped up and began protesting. "Don't let him say those things. He's always looking for a chance to spout his Freement lies, trying to deceive us."
The professor was unaware of my movement and could not understand what the student was saying.
I responded to her. "How can you be free when you're afraid even to listen to my ideas. You've allowed your mind to be trapped by the opiate of religion."
"I'll pray for you Freement. Jesus is merciful."
" Freement? What does she mean calling you Freement?" asked Doctor Greenwood.
The student continued. "Its a monstrous idea he has dreamed up to destroy society, by getting rid of religion. It means mental freedom, a cult founded by John Martindale. He calls himself Freement."
"Really...How interesting. Would you destroy all symbolism Mr. Martindale?"
"Of course not. Our intellectual advancement depends on symbols. Words and numbers are symbols. Painting is no more than coloured mud arranged in a harmonious way which man has been taught to relate to reality...This is symbolism. But the symbolism of religion is not real. It is entirely the product of man's imagination. The fear it can evoke is more real than reality. It is this fear I want to destroy." The jarring sound of the school bell ended our discussion.
That night at the Lighthouse Mission, I continued developing my plans for the destruction of religious symbols. The old mission hall was heaped with young people eager to demonstrate their belief in Freement.
"What I'm going to ask of you, will take great courage. Freement is going to test your loyalty. The time for action is now. People are not taking us seriously, so we must do something which will leave no doubt we are intent on freeing ourselves from religious enslavement."
"Saturday night, we're going to attack the churches of Chathurst. I don't care how you get in, but get in. Destroy the symbols that trap you. Break the statues which haunt you. Pull Christ from the cross and let him live again as a man, not as a
god."
I had never spoken to such a silent group before. Their stillness infuriated me. I couldn't lose them now.
"What the hell's wrong with you? You should be cheering not sitting on your asses, waiting for me to justify whatever I say. You're still slaves to the old way. Weak, Christian hypocrites, who want it both ways. Get off the fence for Chrissake. March with me Saturday and strike a blow for mental freedom."
"What if we're caught?"
"Don't get caught. If you do, you're on your own. I'm not going to risk the success of Freement on a bunch of losers. You won't get caught if we plan carefully. We'll meet here Saturday at midnight. You'll be given your instructions."
The crowd left quietly, thinking about my challenge. Rick stayed behind.
"Do you think they'll go through with it?"
"Those who show up Saturday will."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I've got to. The Freement movement will degrade into a self-indulgent free love cult, if I don't keep it's primary objective up front. Once we've done this, we'll give our members and society tangible proof that Freementers are not afraid to
challenge religion head on."
"This will destroy our organization Marty. I can't go along with it. I've agreed with much of the philosophy you've developed, but this is going too far."
"Jesus Christ Rick. You're just like Clara. Along for the free ride."
"Now hold on. That's not fair. Many of these kids wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for me."
"Then come with us. You owe them this at least."
"But destroying religious symbols is so fascist. What kind of society will we have if we go ahead with this madness?"
"Look Rick. Do what you want. I don't care anymore. Just don't get in my way, or I promise you, I'll crush you like I did the others."
"Others?"
He had aggravated me so much, I almost blurted out about my murders of Donna and Flora. Cool it...Think...Cover it up before he starts asking more questions.
"Yes. Those other symbols I've tried to destroy. You're a symbol of man's surrender to false ideals. The day will come when the only way man can live freely will be to wipe out the living symbols of human slavery. I knew from the start you didn't have any staying power. You're gutless. Now get to hell outa here."
"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. You're trying to flannel me with your double talk. I know one thing though. You've gone too far this time Marty. Clara and I are the lucky ones. Someone or something's got to stop you."
"Beat it I said," forcing him out the door.
Stu grabbed my arm.
"Let him be Marty. We don't need him."
"I suppose you're going to leave me too. Go on...Here's your chance."
"I never said anything about leaving. What's happening to you?"
I looked at my hands. I could feel the tightening flesh of Donna's throat as she struggled for air. My head was pounding. I couldn't stop it.
"Jesus...Jesus why doesn't it go away?"
"What the hell's happening Marty? You looked so flushed."
"Goddamn headache. It's too much Stu. I've got to slow down. I'm killing myself."
"You've been going at it too hard. I could see it coming. I think I first saw it, when your friend...what's her name? Donna. Yeah when Donna was killed."
"Yeah. You're right. I found it pretty hard to take when she died. I didn't show it very much, but I sure felt it inside."
"Well Saturday night will be the acid test. We'll see what they do, and watch for those who can take over as cell leaders. This will take a load off you Marty."
"Sounds good. I'm sure glad I got you on my side Stu."
Midnight Saturday we packed the old Lighthouse Mission. I could hardly believe so many were willing to test their courage. Some of them had dulled their senses with alcohol, while others were now into drugs. This chemical alteration troubled me, but I was so glad to see so many turn out, I wasn't going to make an
issue of it.
"You've made me very happy. Your presence here tonight and your willingness to put my words into action are inspiring."
They gave me a round of applause followed by a standing ovation.
"Stu Laughton and I have a list of the churches we will desecrate. We cannot expect to hit all of them. so we've selected those major buildings which will be the most significant in the impact our work will have on the unbelievers in Chathurst. We are assigning five persons per building. You'll be on your own. So whatever happens, don't get caught. Anyone caught, will have to answer to the rest of us."
It took over an hour for us to organize the teams and review what sort of vandalism should be emphasized. I was accompanied by two young girls and two boys, all in their teens and recent newcomers to my movement. Eighty people raided the religious structures that night.
We arrived at St. Peter's church at 2 A.M. The huge carved oak doors were solidly sealed. The basement windows were also locked. I couldn't let this attack fail. The others stood back. as I kicked in one of the basement windows. Tinkling of glass, falling on concrete, was as brief as a rifle shot. Reaching in, I unlocked the window, and one of the guys held it open until I got inside and dropped to the floor about twelve feet down.
As my eyes adapted to the darkness. I saw long wooden tables in neat rows. I smiled as I recognized one of the ever present cliches of modern Catholicism, Bingo tables. I pulled one near the window, and piled a bench on it, and helped the others get inside.
Quietly we left the church hall and made our way upstairs to the sanctuary. The solemn choir stalls and blinking red sanctuary lamp added to the mystery of our venture. Using razor blades and hammers we lustfully went about our iconoclastic orgy. Pasty faced angels and unreal virgins powdered under our blows. The huge crucifix had to be reached by standing on the altar. It was worth the effort to smash the pathetic, china face of Christ. I was my other self now... the inhuman me, who enjoyed ecstatically the destruction of sacred things.
Everyone was getting high as we piled one abominable act upon another. Ray Finn used a spray bomb in brilliant orange and covered the choir stalls with any and all the expletives he could think of in the heat of the moment. Never before was the word "fuck" given such a dignified setting.
The girls ripped the altar cloths with their razors and wrapped priestly vestments around their provocative behinds, flaunting themselves in front of the two young men, exposing their genitals, begging to be taken in this sacred place. This
was too much for Ray. He pulled down his zipper and began masturbating at the foot of the altar.
"Don't waste it Ray." said Dorise. "Give me a good screwing right here on the altar."
Ray went crazy at her invitation. He began slapping his erection against his jeans and the hollow noise in the church was akin to that clapping sound in the sacred ceremonies of Tenebrae during Holy Week.
"I'm gonna give you my special sacrament Dorise. Just like receiving communion. Come on you horny bitch and let me sanctify you... First we suck. then we fuck."
I was frozen in my tracks as I watched the two of them intoxicated with the total freedom of my movement. The other two began to feel each other up and get into the orgiastic spirit. As I watched. dazed by their complete abandon I remembered how shocked I was when my father confessor tried to seduce me by a mere placing of his hand on my erection. How had I fallen so far? Why had I brought these innocents into this hell with me. But Jesus. god almighty...there is no hell. There is no God. Why do I keep reverting to that ridiculous former self?
"Come on Freement. Mount up. She's got two holes. Take your pick. This is gonna be a night to remember."
My head was spinning violently with this scene of complete debauchery. Susan Enders was using altar cloths to wipe the juices which oozed down her full thighs. I was feeling like I did when Donna made me so angry. My mind and will power had reached an overload condition. I was not able to stop this hellish action. It was as if I were watching an X rated porno flick being filmed. and I was slightly out of camera range.
"What's wrong Freement? Don't you believe in fucking in Church?" asked Susan as Tom Pearson pounded noisily in and out of her.
Fascinated by the orgy, my will lacked the power to end it. Dorise was astride Ray on the altar, her sweet ass rhythmically rising and falling on his holy instrument. Susan was on her knees at the base of the altar, her face contorted as Tom forced his grand hard into her rear end.
"Come on Freement. I hate to see you missing out on the jollies. Let Sue give you a blow job while I bum fuck her. She gives great head."
As if in a trance. I knelt on the steps in front of Susan and she opened my pants letting my enormous hard poke into her wet mouth. Dorise looked down from the altar and saw Sue doing my thing.
"Jesus, Freement! That's got to be one of the seven wonders of the world. Don't eat it all Sue. Save some for me."
Under me were the torn shards of priestly vestments, covered in the juices of our orgy. These kids were sent from hell I was sure of it. Never in my wildest nightmares could I ever imagine what actually happened that night in St. Peter's church. If there was such a thing as hell, there was no doubt in my mind we had gone directly there.
Almost two hours later, we left through the same basement window, and went our separate ways, exhausted by the total surrender to lust perpetrated in the house of God. I will never get that scene out of my mind, a daisy chain of young people in
priestly colours fucking and sucking until nothing was left. So this is what being a Freementer really means. What kind of monster was I? It didn't happen. It couldn't have happened. I wouldn't be a part of such a horrible sin...But there is no sin.

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Freement byWilliam James Johnson Chapter 23

Donna's body was found that same day by her cleaning woman. Just as I suspected, the Chathurst homicide squad pulled in all her clients for questioning. The manager of the Ace had given them my name, but luckily my drunken friend Hank Orme at the Harmony Bar was glad to be my alibi. The fact that I had lost my job that morning made my drinking bout more believable.
Flora's naked body was not discovered until about two weeks later by a small troop of scouts hiking in the woods that surrounded the gravel pit. By September, I had shoved that experience out of my life. It hadn't even happened. This was one of the important results of Freement thinking; once a Freementer decides on a course of
action, there are never any regrets, no self-abasement.
Something else was now plaguing my conscience. Despite the attempt to liberalize my behaviour, there was still a residual gnawing of remorse. It was no longer motivated by religion, but rather sprang from a social conscience which had taken its place. I knew there was no way a society could prosper if its people
could rationalize murder. This was exactly what I was doing. I attributed this inner conflict to the fact that my struggle to destroy my conscience was far from over. I was on the right track. I just needed to continue my resolve.
By the time we returned to university that fall, we had taken over the former Lighthouse Mission as a permanent base for our meetings. Because I had left my job at the factory I had most of the summer to work on our headquarters. The first change I made, was to paint the windows black. Passers-by could easily have mistaken the place for an abandoned warehouse.
Our numbers were increasing. Confused teenagers wanted to be a part of my revolution, and if an appeal to evil was the way of getting into their psyches, I would use it. We began using passwords and coded references to add to the mystery of the Freement movement. This satanic approach to the destruction of organized religion seemed to have a greater appeal than my former rational discussions. I was replacing one set of myths with another. But I was willing to do whatever was needed to get into the heads of my followers.
Since quitting my job, I was putting in long hours at our centre. Rick and Stu, felt I should be paid for my time. Reluctantly I agreed that members attending meetings should pay a small fee of fifty cents, which gave us ample money for the rent of this rundown hall, and paid my room and board. My two partners were doing very well conducting indoctrination classes, which gave me the chance to gain first hand experience with my new followers who had moved into the Skid Row area.
I felt it was a wise move for Freementers to see me in their midst. I still kept my place at Ma Rooney's, because I was hoping to move into a place on Brush Street when Clara returned. I desperately wanted her to live with me. I really despised the wretched women who had taken my teaching seriously, and were now full time whores.
One evening during the final week before returning to school, I was roaming around the dives, when I met an attractive brunette, working as a hostess in the Diamond Dance Palace, a competitor of the Ace. I vaguely remembered seeing her at my meetings during the previous school year.
"Hi Marty."
"Hi."
"You probably don't remember me, but I was in that meeting when you and Woltmann had your fight."
"That was some meeting."
"Casey Martin," She extended her hand.
"Hi Casey."
"Clara back yet?"
"I expect her next week."
"Bet you've missed her?"
"In a way...but I've been terribly busy."
She put her arm around me and pulled me onto the dance floor. Pressing closely to me she whispered. "There's no reason you should be without a woman while she's away."
"I got used to it. I'd feel bad if I cheated on Clara."
"I don't believe it. Is this Freement denying himself something everyone needs?"
"I guess it's because I'm in love with Clara."
Years ago I found the word love is magic. It opens hearts, weakens resistance, and many times spreads thighs.
"This has got nothing to do with love. Before I was a Freementer, I just about went crazy with frustration. You have no idea what a wonderful change your ideas have made in my life."
"Being a Freementer really means that much to you?"
"Does it ever. Why don't you come out back and let me show you. I've had a tremendous crush on you for a long time. You wouldn't want to deny a fellow Freementer a chance to have a good time would you?"
Her room was more feminine than Donna's. God almighty!...How come I suddenly thought of Donna? I had killed her and Flora and had felt nothing. No sadness. No loss. No bitterness. Why? Maybe I had killed myself long ago. There was no more subtleness in my life, just a bare directness which seemed unreal at times. The only life I knew now sprang from between the thighs of eager wenches, deluded with the idea of love.
Casey made me think of poor little Donna. She had never known true love as a child. But she wasn't the only one. What a distorted pack of females had helped me twist my life into this unrecognizable creature posing as a leader of a new movement. All of my women were unnatural in some way.
Kicking off her shoes, Casey put her foot up on the bed and let her slit skirt slide back on her thigh, showing the dimpled flesh above the nylon she was unfastening. I looked at her brazenly exposing herself, and I felt sick to my stomach.
Again for a moment, I saw Donna standing there, provoking me. Then Liz
took her place, sad, demented Liz. And finally the full body of Aggie which swallowed me up more times then I can remember.
"Come on Marty. What's keeping you. I've heard you're really a great stud."
"My heart's not in it sweety."
"Then I guess I'm just gonna have to do something about that."
She pressed her hands on my lower abdomen, probing with her fingers, until I began to swell. Slowly she slid down the zipper and out shot my famous satisfier. Taking it in both hands, she began to move it up and down gently, teasing the end of it with the tip of her tongue. It didn't take much of this for me to forget all the remorse I felt coming into her room. Casey was very skilful in bringing me to the brink, then cooling it for a few moments, before making it stretch even further the next time.
"My gawd! If the girls could see this at one of your meetings, you'd convert the whole junior class. That's nice enough to be bronzed."
"Well as you said, it wouldn't be right for a fellow Freementer to deny pleasure to his friend. Take all you want."

Pulling off my trousers and shoes. she had me lie on my back across her bed. She finished removing all her clothes, then she hovered over me, her legs spanning my body, her lovely rump still in the air. With her playful mouth and hands she made me as rigid as steel. Then she lowered herself onto my aching cock, and rotating her fine arse, screwed it all the way in, moaning as it inched its way deep into her slippery sleeve.
"Oh gawd! Gawd that feels great. Oh...oh...untie your nuts and give me more...more. Freement...I love you Freement. This is not just sex, believe me. This is heaven. Oh...I'm coming...You come too my darling Marty. Empty yourself completely. Flood me you wonderful man. Fill me with your hot cream."
"It's great to be so free Casey. You're a wonderful lover. I'm glad I came with you."
"You can say that again. We came together...Oh that's the way it's supposed to be."
She fell forward on my chest and began kissing me, her tongue searching deep into my mouth, her wonderful body still clasping my flaccid penis. Somehow inside, she began to flex her body in such a way, that I felt myself getting hard again. I let my hands move gently over the round fullness of her rump tracing the valley between her sensuous cheeks until I reached the tightly pursed rear opening. Toying with the fine hairs which sprouted from this dewy channel. I felt her inner movements sucking my finger into it.
"You have no idea how fantastic that feels Marty."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Oh...please hurt me. Push it in. All the way in. I want to feel you having me anywhere, and everywhere."
I did as she asked, and as my finger reached as far as it could, I felt my rigid erection pumping from the front. I had never experienced such a fulfilling orgasm. When I came this time it felt as if the blood was draining out of my entire body into hers.
"Oh...Oh...You're mine Marty. And I'm yours. Can you believe it, I'm still coming. My body is shaking all over. Can't you feel it. It's out of control. Oh...I can die now. I'll never have it any better."
Her reference to dying hit me with such force, I went limp immediately.
"Why did you say that?"
"Say what'?"
"About dying...why did you say you could die now?"
"It's just an expression. I was trying to tell you how wonderful I think you are. I have never had such a marvellous time with any other man. You were absolutely fantastic."
Her reassurance calmed me. I looked at my watch.
"Jesus Casey. I've got to go. You know how much I'd rather stay with you, but there's a bunch of kids coming tonight, and I've got to get back."
"You ought to tell them about us, so they would know what's in store for them. Believe me, any woman who is lucky enough to get a taste of that beautiful organ of yours would be an instant Freementer. Promise me you'll come again."
"I promise. Coming with you has made my day. Bye you marvellous little sex fiend."
The first of that next week saw the commencement of another school term. Experienced now with the routine, enrolment went smoothly. Clara was back and it felt good. We stayed together all day and that night planned to go to the freshman dance. As I was preparing for the dance, Stu came into my room at Ma Rooney's.
"Thought I'd better warn you. Casey's been talking."
"Casey?"
"The chick you screwed at the Diamond."
"How'd you find out?"
"She told Chris, and Chris told me. Apparently she's gonna tell Clara. She says she'll do whatever it takes to bust you up. She's nuts about you. And if you want my opinion..."
"I don't."
"You could do a helluva lot worse than Casey. Guys who know, tell me she is one terrific piece."
"I told you I'm not interested in your opinion."
"What are you gonna do about Clara?"
"Tel1 her the truth."
"Think that's smart? Why not just deny it? You told us Freementers do and say whatever helps them regardless of the truth."
"Thanks Stu for trying to help. I've got to do it my way."
Waiting in the lounge at Valleyside Hall I wondered what would be the best way to handle this. As Clara came into the sitting room, I was surprised to see she was wearing a skirt and sweater instead of the customary semi-formal.
"I'm not going to the dance. Please Marty, let's go for a ride. I've got to talk to you."
We headed out the north end of the city, the same route I had taken with Flora. The old country school yard was empty. I pulled into the gravel driveway and parked between the building and some bushes.
"Okay. So what is it you want to talk about?"
"Oh Marty...How could you?"
"How could I what?"
"You and Casey. If it had been anyone else it wouldn't have been so bad. But Casey...a common prostitute."
"There's nothing common about Casey."
"You admit it then. You did sleep with her."
"When you're with a girl like Casey, you don't waste time sleeping."
"Why did you go with her? Why couldn't you wait?"
"Clara!.. I'm tired of waiting. I'm Freement. Don't you see. Freement doesn't have to wait. He doesn't have to frustrate his desires. No one can stop Freement."
"You scare me when you talk like that."
"Grow up for Chrissake. What do you think all of my teaching is about anyway. You're no closer to getting rid of your hangups than you were the first time we met."
"Please Marty. Don't talk like that...it really does frighten me."
"Well you better get used to it, because you're the one who has to change, not me."
"Have you no will power left? Have you just become an animal?"
"Freement has more will power than all those weak social conformists put together. Mine is a positive will. I can do whatever my nature desires because I'm not trapped by the laws designed for weaklings."
With this, I reached out to take Clara into my arms and try to pacify her anger, and confusion.
"No. No. Don't touch me."
"Clara...Darling let me help you."
"I can't understand you anymore. One minute you're raving about some devilish ideals, the next you're all tenderness, and sweetness. Which is the real you?"
"I'll be the one you want...Clara, I love you so."
The magic word came through. Her kiss was pure, warm, and virginal.
"Oh Marty...Marty, you're such a puzzle. I guess that's why I find you so attractive."
We tried to make up for those months we were apart. Two hours of passionate love making had brought me to the breaking point. Clara's tender body tingled wherever I touched her. Physically she was ready. I could tell.
"Please darling, let me prove my love for you."
"I'm afraid Marty."
"I'll be gentle. I promise."
"I want to, but I can't"
"You've got to Clara. I've chosen you to have Freement's child. Won't you help me produce the new redeemer of the world?"
She pushed me away, startled by my suggestion. "You must be crazy."
"I mean it Clara. Help me. Help create a new redeemer for mankind. Sing Magnificats Clara. You are the chosen one."
"Stop it. Quit clawing me, you animal. You're sick Marty...Sick. Sick. Sick."
I slapped her across the mouth. My head began spinning like it had done when Donna made fun of me. Getting control of myself, I pushed open the car door.
"Get to hell out you Wop slut. Pray your way back to town. You've had your chance. I know loads of women who would lie down on the spot to have my child."
I started the car and backed out of the school yard. She came running beside me screaming, "Wait. Marty wait. Please. Don't leave me..."
I don't know how she got back. I never bothered to ask. I was through frustrating myself. From now on, everything goes for Freement. Look out world. Your saviour is amongst you. You look, but you do not see. You will feel my power surging through the young. Weep not for me, but for your children.
Jesus, why do I let women screw up my life so much. I'm not sure I even like them. Maybe it's because I'm not sure I like myself. That's what has to happen. I've got to like myself first, then maybe I can learn to turn all this inner hate into love for others.
I wonder how Jesus did it. All he gave the world was love, and for this he was crucified. What the hell kind of world is this anyway. What we want, we cannot have. And what we despise, is thrust upon us.

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Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 22

The Freement movement had taken hold in Chathurst. Young people, in their search for personal identity were risking everything, and large numbers of them began residing in the Skid Row area as I had suggested. With the school year at an end, Stu and I were intent on finding a way to keep the momentum going during the summer months.
"I think we'll lose a lot of these kids if we don't find a permanent place to conduct our meetings. We're okay having outdoor sessions once in awhile, as long as we don't attract too much attention. But if we're going to become a meaningful
revolution, we've got to operate from a firm base."
"Well you can count on me for the summer. I was going to go back home, but this is too important. I'm hanging in there all the way with you Marty."
"Me too," said Rick. "What's Clara doing this summer?"
"Got herself a job as a kid's supervisor in Holton. We won't be seeing much of each other this summer."
"Why do you bother with her anyway?" asked Stu. "That other chick at the Ace is a helluva lot cooler."
"Yeah. Donna is a sweet looking woman. But Clara presents more of a challenge. Something' personal, if you know what I mean."
"You get a kick outa working for it."
"Not really. She makes me think of another girl I knew who got so screwed up by religion, I just don't want that to happen to Clara."
"You mean that girl you told us about?"
"That's the one. I'm surprised you remember."
"Were you the guy who knocked her up?"
"I'd rather not talk about it, do you mind?"
"Whatever you say Marty. Now about our meetings. I was thinking we could continue having them outside, but keep using different parks, so that there is no pattern."
"Not a bad idea Stu. But that's only a temporary solution. We've got to get ourselves a permanent place."
"For the time being, why not right here on campus?" asked Rick. "With summer school goin' on, who's gonna notice the extra kids. There's all kinds of places here."
The temporary solution worked for the first six weeks of the summer. Both Rick and Stu conducted discussions in smaller groups when I was not available. Young people from all over the city flocked to my Freement meetings. There was an increase in delinquency in the city because of my radical ideas, but the powers that be were not in the picture on Freement so they were unable to account for the drastic change in the behaviour of their children. I didn't condone such irresponsible conduct, but I realized there was very little I could do to stop it once a young Freementer made a commitment to destroy his conscience.
Every new movement has unstable elements that tend to discredit it. I knew it was only a matter of time before the genuine Freementers quashed this unruly clique. I would leave it to them.
All three of us spent much of our time working at the auto plant that summer. I was made an inspector in the paint department and they were both employed on the final assembly line. At work, the attitude of my superiors changed now that I was
a University student. The superintendent tried to convince me I should consider permanent employment with the company when I graduated. I managed to avoid making any promises.
As an inspector, I was able to wear a suit to work instead of coveralls. I ate lunch with the foreman and the factory superintendent in the management cafeteria. I enjoyed my newly acquired distinction and made use of my freedom of movement to talk to the workers about my Freement ideas. During the first month of the summer, I wasn't taken seriously, then at last the men began talking about my concepts. They were afraid of them, and said so, in no uncertain terms. Some, who referred to me as the "summer enjoyment" type, accused me of spreading ideas of
disloyalty among the workers, and I was summoned by the plant superintendent.
"Johnny, I've been hearing some fantastic rumours about you. I'm not the kind of guy who goes behind a fellow's back. I wouldn't be in this position if I were. I like to deal with personal problems up front."
"Something wrong with my work?"
"Hell no. You've always given us full value for your wages. It's this other thing. Apparently you've been spouting some ideas about your personal philosophy, and it's got the men upset."
"I don't ask them to listen. If they don't want to hear them, they don't have to hang around. Besides, I do this on my own time, during breaks."
"That's not the point. You've got to realize you're in a position of responsibility. The men look to you for leadership."
"I'm just a paint inspector for Chrissake. What the hell kind of leadership are you talking about?"
"Cool it there mister. I've brought you in here for your own good. I'm not trying to pick a fight with you."
"My exchanging ideas with the men is the only thing that makes this job tolerable."
"I can't believe you're being so belligerent. You got a chip on your shoulder or something?"
"You want to be helpful, you ought to have that bastard Macdonald Burney in here. He's done more damage to the guys morale than ten fellows like me. At least I give the guys a chance to think. Burney's nothing but a religious bully."
"Look here Johnny. It's you I'm trying to help, not Macdonald Burney."
"Well you better start worrying about him. He's one of the reasons I think the way I do. If you think you're gonna drop me in the deep stuff, you better be prepared to give that sonofabitch the same treatment."
"I don't have to take this kind of abuse. If I see something is wrong with the men, it's up to me to fix it."
"Then do what you gotta do, but keep your goddamn nose out of my business."
"You're really asking for it. I can suspend you for this insubordination."
"For Chrissake you're like all the others. You don't even know what I've been saying, yet you're ready to kick my ass."
"I'm not interested in your ridiculous ideas. I'm only concerned about the morale of my men. You've been saying things that got em all screwed up, and I'm warning you to watch your step."
I stood up and put my hands on his desk, and leaned into him.
"Warning me...Who the hell do you think you are, threatening me like this? I don't have to take this kind of shit from you or anyone else. Freement has had it up to here with your fucking rules."
"That does it. I'm putting you on probation for a week. You've had a good record until now, don't let one year of book learning wash that record down the drain."
"To hell with your probation. You can take your job and stuff it up your ass. If you were half the leader you say you are, you would have gotten rid of that bastard Burney years ago."
"You're making a hell of a mistake. Walk out of this office, and you'll never work here again."
"That suits me fine. I've got more important things to do then kiss ass with guys like you."
As I got up to leave, he added a final remark. "Oh did I forget to mention it. Mac's no longer with us. Seems he's gone into the ministry full time, doing God's work."
I felt empty inside as I walked to the time clock. Collecting my card I grabbed a factory taxi and went to the personnel office to get my severance cheque. There was a different receptionist now. Other than that, everything was the way it had been eight years ago when I sat under the photos, waiting for a chance to apply for a job.
Walking out of the gate, I looked back at the massive, noisy cavern. Men disappeared into the greyish bowels of this raucous machine, freed only by the shrill whistle which gave them a few minutes to remember they were alive, then back again into the grinding groin, producing, ever producing. That last look summed up those long, tedious, never ending years. I got into my car and headed for Brush Street, and freedom.
The area was changing since my movement began. Bars were filled with a younger clientele. Nubile young girls with mask like makeup and micro mini skirts, plied their trade on every corner. The older derelicts were frightened that these energetic young miscreants were expropriating their septic tank existence. They were incapable of seeing like Freement, that out of this apparent chaos would come order.
I went upstairs at the Ace looking for Donna.
"Try her apartment. She usually hangs out there until dark."
"Where is it?"
"Strange...I thought you were good friends."
"We are. Just never been to her place."
"2138 Broadway. Upstairs. Don't tell her I told you."
Broadway Avenue cut Chathurst down the middle. On the east, the streets led into the factory town; to the west, were the professional offices, upper class residences, and the University. Her apartment was above the Royal beauty salon. I knocked and waited.
"Who is it?"
"Me Donna...Johnny."
"Give me a minute..."
The bolt slid and the door opened slowly. Her hair hung in long loose strands over the pink nylon negligee. Unsuccessfully she tried to hold back a yawn.
"Sorry I woke you up."
‘Forget it. Can't burn the candle at both ends and still expect to keep your men happy. How'd you find my place?"
"One of the girls."
"Christ, I wish they'd mind their own business. I bet it was Flora. Was she wearing a black gown with rhinestones?"
"That's her. Maybe I better go."
"No...don't go. It's not you I'm worried about. It's those guys at the club. Think they're God's gift to women. Never leave a girl alone. I've had to change apartments three times just to get rid of some of those creeps. Then one of the girls gives them my address and it starts all over again."
"We all have our problems."
Donna looked lovelier, and younger without the artificial face she painted for herself to impress the regulars at the Ace. There was something nice about this young woman who was trying so frantically to be hard. She looked at the clock on the small dresser.
"Hey! It's only two o'clock. How come you're not working?"
"I quit."
"Quit! Are you crazy? What about getting your degree? That's gonna take a lot of money."
"I've got enough saved. I can manage."
"But why quit? What happened Johnny?"
"My boss got pissed off I was talking about my Freement ideas to the guys."
"Don't tell me you let that bullshit cost you your job?"
"It's not bullshit. I mean every word I say."
"Now look honey you might have fooled those young punks who hang around with you. But this is Donna. You gave up a good job because of some ridiculous ideas about freedom. I don't believe it."
"Start believing it. I'm serious Donna. I lost my job because people are afraid of me. That's wrong. I don't want people to fear me. I only want to save them from the horrors of religion. I'm their saviour Donna. I'm their saviour."
"You're what."
"I'm Freement. I'm the new saviour."
"Holy God. Your absolutely nuts you know that. You...John Martindale ...Saviour of the world."
She began laughing at me, ridiculing me. It was the same laughter I heard from her that night behind the door at the Ace. I detested her making fun of me. She had done the same thing when we were at Brewster High. I couldn't stand it anymore. I grabbed her by the throat and slapped her across the face.
"Shut up you fucking bitch. You have no right to make fun of me like this."
"Jesus you have flipped. You're worse than those perverts who keep coming after me. Get to hell out here. Go on. Get out."
"Stop it...stop it Donna, before I really hurt you."
"What's wrong Johnny boy? You're suppose to be the smart guy with all the ideas. Can't you see how funny it is? Here you are, hung up on screwing and you're trying' to justify it to yourself by inventing a bunch of bullshit theories. It would really be hysterical if it weren't so goddamn sick."
Pushing her back to her bed, I covered her mouth with my hand to stop her abusive remarks. She grabbed me by the crotch and squeezed so hard I lost my breath. Taking my hand from her mouth to release her grip on my balls, she spit in my face.
"Bastard. Get off me and get outa here before I scream. Then , you'll have the cops all over you."
"Why are you doing this to me Donna?"
"Because you're sick. You need help...real help."
"But I've got theories. I've created a way to live by without carrying all the crap in our heads that religion has put there."
"Can't you see what you're doing. You're trying' to be a priest despite yourself. You've never really given up the idea of being a priest. Only you1re a Judas priest. who can't get enough of the girls. You're fucking sick Johnny boy. Now stop knocking me around and let's get it on. That's what you need. I'll be your saviour and give you the best goddamn blow job you've ever had."
With that she unzipped my jeans and my pulsing cock grew larger in her tender hands. Her tongue moved up and down my firm shaft and she coated the purple helmet with her warm saliva. Then she moved her lovely body around until her own moist valley faced my tense mouth. She lowered herself onto my lips and stopping her love making for a moment she turned to me.
"Come on Freement. Let's save each other. Give me the blessings of your sexy tongue. We can both play this game."
My erection disappeared into her gaping mouth and I could feel it explode deep in her throat. Her own undulations on my face ceased as she went limp on top of me. My head was spinning when she rolled off, and I could see the shiny remnants of my juices on her lips.
"Now there, Saviour of the world, is what it's all about."
Her bitter ridicule caused me to black out for a moment. I felt weak all over. It was frightening as I felt myself losing control. All I wanted to do was get even with everyone who had made me what I had become. I just kept squeezing with all the strength I had acquired over the many years of hate. When I came too, there was the limp body of Donna beside me, my hands still on her throat, the cords hardening in her neck. I watched her pink healthy glow turn to crimson, then purple. She scratched my face in her frantic struggle to break away, but Johnny boy hung on until the end. When I let go of her throat, her deeply coloured face drained to an ashen white.
A terrific sensation surged through my body. It was an inexplicable freedom. I had the courage to do what I preached. I didn't let my conscience frustrate my desire this time. Freement had passed the acid test.
Suddenly I realized what I had done. Her body lay awkwardly on the bed, her arm extended over the side, barely touching the floor. No one had seen me come in. She had said herself, she had boyfriends who pursued her. When she is found, the first thing the police will do is check her client list. But that other woman at the club knew I was coming here. I had to get to her before the police. She's the only one who could finger me. They can't stop me now. I'm Freement. I'm the new Saviour of the world.
Dragging her lithe body across the rug. I pushed it into a long narrow closet. Covering it with dirty laundry she had piled in the corner, I closed the doors. No one would ever guess a murder had been committed...murder...What a frightening word...justifiable homicide...sounds more humane. I couldn't help it. She drove me to it. All my life, people made me do the wrong things. But nothing is wrong anymore. We do what we have to do. Freement is his own man. I had shown the
superintendent he couldn't threaten me, and now Donna knows that I'm serious about my theories. Man must do what man must do.
There is no such thing as sin. There is just the satisfaction of needs. I needed to end her ridicule. And I was able to do it. Laws are for weaklings. You've got to be strong to do what I did.
My face smarted where she had scratched me. I checked in the mirror. Thank God if felt worse than it looked. I washed it in the bathroom and put toilet paper on the scratches. When the bleeding stopped, I patted it lightly with her powder. The
scratches disappeared.
It was three o'clock. I had to get out of there. In twenty minutes I was back in Brush Street, protected by the darkened interior of the Harmony Bar. Most the bars were kept dark to encourage free enterprise. The girls always gave the owners a percentage.
I went into a booth and ordered a whiskey to calm my nerves. At first I didn't realize there was someone sitting across from me. He startled me when he spoke.
"Its that first one that does it."
For a brief moment I thought he was talking about what I had done with Donna?"
"First what?"
"First drink. Why? What did you think I meant?"
"Nothing...I just lost my job today, and I'm not thinking too clearly."
"I understand...I meant the first drink. The rest are just an anti-climax. Kinda, slow, draggy waiting until you go under. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah. I think I do."
"Hank Ore's my name. What's your's?" He extended his hand, but I didn't take it.
"Something bothering you kid'?"
"I told you...my job..."
"Forget it. There's plenty of work out there if a guy really wants it. Hey Charlie. Bring us two whiskeys. Greatest thing I know for helping you forget your worries."
We both downed the liquor. My head was spinning. I was never much of a drinker. As the booze began warming up my stomach, I realized what a mistake I was making. I had to keep sharp. I had to figure a way of getting that other woman out of the Ace without anyone seeing.
Hank and I spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening swapping lies. He had an amazing capacity for booze. The five to one odds finally caught up with him, and he passed out in the booth.
Outside the darkened streets were made bright in places by the sparkling neon. Just a few doors down was the Ace. I went across the street and phoned the club.
"Is Flora there?"
"She ain't come in yet. Starts at nine. Who'll I say called?"
"Thanks. I'll call back."
I was in luck. If I could get to her before she went in, no one would ever know. Parking a couple doors from the Ace I waited. About nine, a taxi stopped in front of the club and Flora got out. The neon flickered in the rhinestones which held her hair in place.
"Flora! Come here honey."
She put her head in my open window, trying to recognize me in the darkness.
"Get in."
"Ain't you Donna's boy friend? Look. I don't want no trouble. Us girls don't believe in cutting into each other's territory."
"Can I help it if I like you better."
She opened the door and slid in beside me.
"Guess there's no use fighting it when you've got it."
"That's the way I feel honey."
I grabbed her by the thigh and squeezed it. As I pulled away from the curb.
"Hey. Where we goin?"
"My place. You'll love it."
"You ain't some kinda weirdo are ya?"
"Not unless you think non-stop fucking is weird."
She snuggled closer and grabbed my right arm and hugged it. I drove up Richmond Hill, out the north end of Chathurst. On the way I kept her mind off the trip by stimulating her imagination with sex talk. She in turn toyed with my penis, marvelling at the way it wore its slightly tilted dark helmet.
"I've been watching you for a long time at the club. I can't believe we're gonna finally make it. Jeez I can hardly wait until you ram all this wonderful gristle up my snatch."
"You're really getting off on this kinda talk aren't you sweety."
"Talk's cheap. I love fucking. Always have...Hey where do you
live anyway ?"
We were leaving the city behind as I took a side road north of Chathurst that led to a rather heavily wooded area. This would have been an ideal lover's lane if it's denseness had not been so foreboding.
"Not much further sweetie."
"Hey. What's goin on? You said we were goin' to your place. Turn around. I've changed my mind. I want to go back to the club."
I turned again down another dirt rode which led into an abandoned gravel pit. All that could be heard was the wind in the trees bordering the large excavation, and the sound of running water.
"Jesus it's scary. You've had your little joke. Now take me home."
"What? And waste this terrific hard you've been working on."
"Look. If all you want is a fuck, then let's do it and get to hell outa here. This place really scares me."
"Okay. There's a blanket in the back seat. Let's go over there on that dry spot and see what you can do for me."
"Okay. But you gotta promise you ain't gonna hurt me."
"Come on Flora. Do I look like the kinda guy who goes around hurting good looking women."
She helped me smooth out the blanket on a shallow sand pit. Then she pulled up her black dress and in the moonlight I could see the dark triangle of hair inside her transparent panties. I put my hand between her legs and my thumb slipped into the moist opening. She was just as hot as Donna.
"Not your thumb. Take off my panties and give me the real thing."
As I pulled the flimsy panties down. the faint odour of musk came from her opening and I bent down to kiss her on the springy black curls.
"God. I love it. Why didn't you tell me you enjoy eating at the 'Y'? This is my favourite way."
"You wouldn't want me to eat alone."
That was all I had to say. She swallowed my erection to the hilt, her head bobbing up an down like an oil rig. I was slow in coming after the tremendous afternoon with Donna.
"I can't see how you can hold it back like that."
"I want to blast it inside you."
"Then give it to me darling. I'm ready. I mean really ready. That tongue of yours was fantastic."
She knelt in front of me, and her athletic bottom pressed backwards against my thighs as I fitted into her sopping cleavage.
"Oh God...oh God. This is better than I could have imagined. I don't care if you did pick the strangest place I've ever screwed. I'm coming...I'm coming. Don't stop. Push it all the way in until I can feel it in my guts."
As I pumped into her. I grabbed her by the throat and began squeezing.
"What the hell...hey stop...Jesus I can't breathe. Oh God...He's trying to kill me...stop it...Stop it...Stop."
With her last breath. I felt the death spasm deep inside her. The walls of her womb gripping my throbbing cock like it had never been gripped before. She fell in front of me as I rode her tender ass that shielded me from the damp ground.
Two murders in the same day. My world was becoming unreal. I could do anything I wanted and it no longer mattered. I wasn't John Martindale anymore. I was Freement...And Freement does what he must do.

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Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 21

My experience with Woltmann bolstered my courage to speak out in class about my Freement ideas. I wanted to make my mark on the other students before the school year ended. Majoring in philosophy gave me many opportunities to debate with my teachers, and the results of these debates became the topic of conversation among the students.
Late in May, I had my inevitable showdown with Dr. Phyllis Marshall, my Psychology professor. This mannish woman in her mid- forties, with frizzy, mouse brown hair, and severely tailored suits, paced nervously at the front of the room. During her lecture on the importance of teaching people to think critically in a democracy, she claimed Russians, under Communism, lacked freedom because they were not permitted to believe in God. She stressed that we in the west were especially fortunate, because we had freedom of religion.
"Dr.Marshall," I interrupted. "Wouldn't it have been more accurate to say that people in Russia who want to join the Communist Party are not permitted to belong to an organized religion, but there are many Russians who still practise their traditional orthodox faith."
"I must agree. You could say it that way."
"And would you not also agree that even if it were as you say, that Russia doesn't permit its people to believe in God, this is no criterion for saying these people are not free."
"Mr. Martindale, this is not a theology class. If you haven't anything more pertinent to discuss, I will continue my lecture. We have a great deal to cover before the exam."
"I'm sorry Doctor. It's just that I don't feel you should make a general statement condemning a system which controls over two hundred and fifty million people without proving that non- belief in God is wrong."
"I've admitted you are correct. My use of the Russian example was poor. I am pleased to see that the main theme of this lecture has not fallen on deaf ears. Your reasoning is a good example of critical thinking which is so important in a
democratic society."
"I would like to continue if I may. In your other remark, you implied that freedom to believe in God is a special kind of freedom, enjoyed by us."
"That's what I said."
"But again you are making an unsubstantiated claim. Using your techniques professor. I could say I believe that religion is the greatest evil ever designed for trapping the minds of men."
"Now you're the one making a generalization. I'd like to see you try to substantiate that," she snapped like a tiny terrier.
"Thank you Doctor Marshall. I will. As a psychologist, which do you think is more likely to help man to be free, belief that our existence depends on the whim of a divine Creator who can snuff us out by a mere act of his will, or belief in an infinite universe with no beginning and no end in which man strives to survive for his own sake?"
"I will not waste my time debating such a ridiculous hypothesis as an infinite universe."
"No more ridiculous than saying everything came from nothing."
"What has all of this to do with teaching a person to think critically in a democracy?"
"It has everything to do with it. Your job should be to teach us to think. Once we are capable of that, we can make our own choice about what we want to believe. You do us a disservice when you colour your statements with your personal bias."
"Mr. Martindale, it is a well known fact that the rulers in Russia limit the freedom of its people. Russia does not permit criticism that would tear down the system."
"Nor do we Dr. Marshall. No system is willing to be a victim of its thinking people. That's why your theme is so inappropriate."
"I disagree. It is most appropriate. Without God and a moral conscience as we have in our society, what would man use to judge his actions?"
"Man in our society is forced to exist within a fictitious God realm of religious prohibitions, which are the source of tremendous anguish in his life. Religion creates an overwhelming feeling of guilt and repression. Man is not permitted to act according to his nature. As a psychologist, you of all people must realize that man's actions are motivated by need satisfaction. Religion establishes an impossible spiritual fantasy which attempts to make gods out of men by demanding
unrealistic standards of conduct. And for what. For an immortal reward which doesn't even exist."
"I knew if I gave you enough time you would make a mistake. Immortality is not an invention of man," said the harried teacher. "Man's mind is capable of producing abstract ideas, ideas which do not exist in reality. These are spiritual ideas which bring man to an understanding of his creator. The instrument producing these spiritual ideas must be spiritual by virtue of cause and effect."
"Inventions Doctor. Just words. Man's mind is a reservoir of electrical energy, and his internal circuitry is activated by external sensations. It is this sensual experience which gives him the basis for judgment. But because of the likes of you and your outdated theories, this natural judgment is impeded by superimposing spiritual judgment. It is this confusion of the real with the unreal which leads to man's mental problems."
"This interruption is now concluded. I wish to apologize to the rest of the class for permitting you to expose them to such ridiculous sophistry."
"You can't do this professor. I demand an apology. This is a classroom, not a courtroom."
Extremely irritated by my offensive posture, her neck broke out in red blotches.
"In all my years of teaching, I've never experienced such rudeness. You're nothing but an impudent whelp."
"You've missed the point madam. Don't you want people in a democracy to think for themselves?"
She stormed out of the classroom, shaking uncontrollably with emotion.
The atmosphere in the lecture room became vibrantly alive with the students' reactions to my debate. My breast pounded furiously like it had done when I was in Woltmann's office. I was surprised many of the students agreed with Marshall and her criticism of my rudeness. The only ones who sided with me, were Freementers.
"What a performance," said Stu. "It was worth repeating my year just to see that frustrated old bitch break out in a rash."
"She'll be out to get you now Marty," said Rick.
"You took a terrible chance," said Clara. "What if she flunks you for this?"
"I had to do it. A real Freementer must never be afraid to speak his mind. No one ever questions the validity of her statements. Maybe now she'll be more careful of what she says."
"Do you think she'll come back to class?"
"Of course. She'll come back and continue reading word for word from her notes in the name of education. I did agree with her though, about educating people to think critically. It was the way she tried to slip in that not-so-subtle dig at the Communists. It's significant thought-shapers like Marshall who are responsible for our racial prejudices. Get enough people believing it, and soon you have a nation frightened to death by the horrible possibilities of our potential enemy. It is this
kind of terror which leads to panic, and eventually the pressing of the doomsday button."
"What a horrible scenario," said Clara.
"What can Freement do about it?" asked Rick.
"He can help to destroy the basis for hypocrisy. Prevent the concepts of Christian morality from prejudicing our thinking at the conference table. Man must establish a universal bill of rights, instead of the narrow code we now endorse, which ensures the superiority of the white, Christian race. All men have needs, and have the right to their satisfaction. This should be the basic principle of the universal bill of rights. As for the satisfaction of the secondary level of needs which spring up as a society becomes more complex, an individual's personal ability comes into action. Under my system each man would have the opportunity to advance as far as his ability will take him. In this way, he will not crave to go beyond his level of competence, and he will have led a life of fulfilment."
"Marshall was talking about this the other day," said Stu.
"Yes she was, when she was talking about the importance of integrated goals. I almost took her on then. It's her inconsistency which gets to me. Today she attacked the Communists. The other day she was urging us to see the merits of
socialism. She was trying to get our agreement that as society becomes more complex, the individual must give up more and more of his freedom. In such a society, the system is designed to service the basic needs of the individual in exchange for his subservient role as a member of the mass of working units. There is no place for critical thinking."
"Then what is the truth?"
"I'm afraid I have to agree with her on this point. There will have to be less freedom in the future, by virtue of the increase in numbers in the world's population. The state must now begin preparing the best people to plan for the inevitable crush which is coming. If we do not find someway to defuse the population bomb, and the destruction of our environment by pollution, we will be buried either in people or garbage. Our freedom as it is today may indirectly lead to social suicide in our future."
"What should we be doing?"
"We have to begin with the young. They must be taught that the needs of the majority are of prime importance, and they must be willing to sacrifice their own desires to help make a strong country for their children, a country without fear."
"You're talking like a Communist again. People in our country would never let anyone get such control of their minds."
"That's where you're wrong. They're letting it happen to them every day. Television is the greatest brainwashing instrument ever devised by man. It is creating a mass passivity which is extremely dangerous for the mental health of our country. Millions devote billions of hours soaking up the banalities peddled in the name of big business. It has the same intrusive destruction on the spirit of man as religion had in the past. Only now there is a double threat. The fundamentalist preachers are smart enough to know what a tremendous power resides in the tube, and the untold millions who are already addicted to it. They have come out of their tents and their churches and by way of television, have invaded the very homes of their victims. Freement must find a way of getting his message over the airways. When we have a strong core, we will use their methods to defeat them."
A throbbing bell in the corridor ended our discussion. "You should continue this discussion tonight," said Stu.
"Where are we going to meet?"
"Why not Maple Park. The weather's great, and we might even get a larger crowd if we held it outdoors."
We had organized a telephone cell system which proved invaluable when we wanted to get a message to other Freementers. We each called three persons, and they in turn called three others. Word of a Freement meeting could spread throughout the city in less than a half hour.
The size of the crowd amazed me. Stu and Rick had done an excellent job of organizing Freement visits in the High Schools. This was the first opportunity I had to see all the Freementers in the city at one gathering.
"Two hundred and forty-seven. Can you believe it. That was a stroke of genius you had sending us to the High Schools. Most of these kids are still in their teens. They sure go for your ideas."
"It's terrific Stu. Imagine what it'll be like in a few years. When we started, I had my doubts. But now, after only nine months...well, all I can say is, thanks a lot Stu. I don't think I could've done it without you."
"Let's stop patting ourselves on the back and get out there before they start getting restless."
Crowded around the empty bandshell, standing in the back, or sitting on the rows of benches in front, a sea of faces looked up at me. A couple of fellows had parked their cars on each side of the bandstand, and turned on their lights to illuminate us, as we came on stage. A loud roar went up. I signalled for them to stop.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I want you to understand we are taking a chance meeting like this. I don't think we should risk attracting unnecessary attention. Stu will you have those guys kill the car lights."
As I began speaking, I got the mental picture of Christ facing his disciples as they sat on the ground at his feet, preaching the sermon on the mountain. He gave them his beatitudes. I would give my followers a living formula. I reviewed my debate with Marshall and continued explaining the historical context of today's Christianity.
"...and it was the Protestant reformation which gave rise to our capitalistic system. When Calvin abolished the infallible authority of the Church of Rome, he put man in a position where he had to face God alone. Each man was to be a priest unto himself. Each man believed he had to prosper in his physical endeavours to demonstrate that he had God's blessing. For this reason, Quakers who sought religious freedom in this country, brought with them an ambition which led to their prosperity. They showed by their acquisition of material things, that God's blessing was upon them. Under Freement, man will continue to work for material things, but he will do so because of his physical need for these things, not because he owes anything to a non-existent God."
"All of you must understand that Freement is a realistic way of life. Once you become mentally free, you will never be trapped again by rules, either religious or social. This is a revolutionary life I offer you. You have vowed to destroy God,
and religion. You will not be truly free until all your fellow men are cleansed of these devastating lies."
"Being a Freementer is a two edged sword. I call it the active and passive phases of our belief. Actively, I expect my followers to deliberately interfere with religious functions. Go to services and disrupt them. Challenge the priests and ministers to prove without a doubt there is a God. You will be persecuted, ridiculed, and exiled from your families. But as you live this better life, you will enjoy the freedom from the burden of conscience."
"The passive role, is interior. No Freementer will ever again fear what might happen if he turns from this non-existent God. Free yourselves my dear friends from all the repressions to which your young lives have been subjected. Never again will you utter a silent prayer. There is nothing to hear these murmurs. There is only you, and the world you make is of your own choosing."
"You have heard me tell you about the other outcasts in our midst. Let them become your role models. I'm not advocating that you become drunkards and prostitutes, but I do say that we can learn from these fellow creatures, the kind of courage it takes to turn one's back on society, and live according to our needs. I
believe a man should be able to do whatever he wants without answering to anyone. And if you choose to be a hooker, a drunk, or an addict, you will have a friend in Freement."
"I know many of you are shocked that I would advocate such a drastic step. Let me explain what I mean. If you continue living in your comfortable dorms, or at home with your families, you will continue to follow the lifestyle which is the product of your social conditioning. You cannot destroy religion in your life. if you pay it lip service to ensure you will maintain the standard of life you now have. This is a revolution we are in. Freementers are revolutionaries. You cannot bring about change without first changing yourselves. Move into Skid Row. Get to know these people. See how they behave. See freedom in action. Be free yourselves."
"I'm not saying you will have to remain in exile. I just feel that such an experience is essential to bringing about a change in your value system. It is not easy to face the world alone, without God, but it is the only world we've got, let's
make the best of it."
"I know there are many of you here tonight have come with friends who are Freementers. You are here out of curiosity. That's a valid motivation. There are several who are here because you are sexually interested in someone who is a Freementer. I say help each other with the satisfaction of sexual needs. Marriage
is dead. It was a cruel control created by the church and state. If you want to live together, then live together. Be free. Get rid of those ridiculous hang ups that are crippling your spirit."
" Freement believes that where there is knowledge, there is no evil. For this reason I urge you to try anything, and everything which in the past you considered sinful. There is no sin. There is no soul. There is no God to judge you when all is
said and done. There is just you, and the world you make for yourself. Under Freement, there is just mental freedom and the eternal joy of being one's self, content to do whatever is required to satisfy our needs."
Clara watched me very closely as I spoke. She was suspicious that my final remarks were meant for her, and our relationship. What I was saying was not for other Freementers, but were for Freement himself. I was creating a theory for myself. The response was fantastic. Several couples came up and told me they were going to begin living together like I had recommended. Many said they were going to leave their families and move in to the Skid Row area and get first hand experience.
Clara stood by, listening to their statements. When I finished with my followers, she came to me. "Marty, I've got to talk to you."
"Don't tell me I've upset you again?"
"Can we go somewhere. I don't want the others to hear."
We went to my car as the crowd slowly dispersed.
"What's the problem this time Clara?"
"Doubts...I have so many doubts Marty."
"About what?"
"Are you trying to give them freedom, or are you thinking only of yourself?"
"What's wrong Clara? Don't you love me anymore?"
"There you go again. Lately whenever I try to discuss something with you, you always ask that question. Tonight, you weren't talking to them. You were talking to me."
"Yes Clara. I was. I need you darling. Please come with me. We can move into an apartment on Brush Street like the others."
"I can't Marty. I'm just not ready. Please give me more time."
Her words reminded me of myself begging Lizbet for more time. The roles were reversed now.
"Okay Clara. Only because I truly love you. I don't want to lose you."
"I do love you Marty."
"But..."
"But there are times I feel what you are saying is wrong, and that you are an anti-Christ. It's terrible Marty. My conscience is driving me crazy."
"I know my darling. This type of thinking takes time. It has taken me several years."
She kissed me. "Don't ever make me hate you Marty. Don't ever make me want to leave you."
"I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do for yourself. That's what this is all about Clara. All I want is that you will become yourself."
"I don't understand Marty."
"Right now Clara, you are all the things people have wanted you to be. All I ask Is that you become what Clara wants to be. Be free my darling. Be happy."
"God I do love you so much."
I had to admit it. I really do have the gift of gab. I liked being Freement. He was my kind of guy.

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