Get Thee FROM The Nunnery...

St. Joseph of Cupertino Parish
Chicago, Il

Maxine:
I wish you a safe trip back home, and thank you for sharing the facts about Sybian, Felix, Mia, and Bishop Bassanni with me. Some of what you told me was absolutely shocking, so please excuse my bluntness in our conversation. I have had to answer a lot of questions lately. But I thank you for the pleasant day at the estate; the altar girls are very taken with Francesca and Ramona, and would dearly like to go back.

Now that I understand better your circumstances, perhaps what I can share with you will shed light on the events at the convent and the following days.




Upon hearing a gunshot that night, my housekeeper informed me the police were arriving at the convent. As I rushed over, I met one of the paramedics, “Mary Katherine,” whom I knew from the parish, and she told me to bring my anointing kit. When I arrived at the room where all the police were, I immediately saw the Bishop lying on the bed in a mess of blood-soaked sheets. On the floor, near the door, lay Pedro Yarez, to whom I rented the convent. Both bodies appeared lifeless, so I knelt down and began to administer the last rites to Pedro, while the police were taking all the witnesses down to the station for further statements.

Dipping my finger in the sacred oils, I anointed Pedro’s forehead, eyes, ears, lips and hands, signifying all the human faculties with which he may have offended God in his life. Then I moved to the bed to anoint the Bishop’s corpse.




Again, I traced the sign of the cross on Bassanni’s forehead and eyes. But as I was anointing his ears, my finger felt something. I hesitated --- there it was again. I’m not a doctor, but I know the body goes through strange convulsions after death. When I felt it a third time, I called to Mary Katherine who listened with her stethoscope and then yelled, “HOLY SHIT! I GOT A PULSE! THIS ONE’S STILL
KICKIN’!!”



They pushed me out of the way, and in one choreographed movement began to work on him. Mary Katherine radioed the hospital to be ready, as they moved him on to a stretcher and rushed him to the ambulance. That was the last I saw of the Bishop.

I could get no further information from anyone until an administrator from the archdiocese called two days later to tell me the Bishop had indeed passed away, and the Cardinal specifically wanted me to celebrate a memorial mass for Bassanni before his body was flown back to Italy. There was to be no public viewing of the body. The next day a funeral home from out in the suburbs brought the casket into church, I said the mass in the presence of altar girls and a couple of faithful parishoners (“funeral groupies” we call them.) The casket was put in the hearse and it drove off. Fait accompli.

As I now know more details of your involvement with Felix Culpa, I will see what I can find out “on da street”, as they say. Frankly, I’m more than a little curious, myself.
Yours in Christ,
Rev. Ernest Raynor

Closer to Heaven than Earth: Milo, again

I detest airplanes. The food isn’t real. The schedules are make-believe. Even the smiles are forced. On airplanes, everyone wears a mask. Give me a trainride any day. People show their real selves on trains: happy, sad, grouchy, horny,
all the emotions out in the open. On a train, people see and feel the motion of time and are swept along with it. No one has “train-lag!” On airplanes, except for take off and landing when people are gripped with the idea the plane could explode any second, you don’t feel the passage of time and space.
The fact that we’re following the same route that our dear departed Prof. Lockwood took several weeks ago is not doing wonders for our moods. At least the wine, while inferior, is plentiful.
Just as Prof. Lockwood was on his way to get his first look at the area of Sybaris, so we are bringing Esperanza and Danny back with us, to smell the salt air and intoxicating scent of the Bergamot oranges---- “the scent of the saint!”
Esperanza would not be denied. She means to “hook up”(her words) with the spirit of Mia and that’s final. Maxine just shakes her head, but I think she understands what Esperanza is experiencing. After all, in just a few months she has gone from helping her sister at a brothel to a recognized and true Goddess! And besides Danny is coming along, someone with whom Maxine would like to “hook up” (her words!!!)
Danny has agreed to take over the job of “Scribe” for this computer site. As part of his Master’s program, he will document what occurs in Sybaris, as well as assisting me in editing my biography of St. Sybian. He will take over once we get settled back in Sybaris.

I must quit now. I've just discovered an Email from Fr. Raynor has come in for Maxine.

Our conversation continues...

“You’d better have another glass of wine, Father,” Maxine said. She moved her chair so as to directly face the priest.
“We will answer your questions. But first, you must tell me:
Do you know where Felix Culpa is?”

Father Raynor glanced out the window, then turned to Maxine.
“I’m afraid what I do or do not know is under the seal of confession, my daughter.”
“I’m not your fucking daughter, and you’re not my father! However, Felix Culpa is my husband and a lot more than that to these people, and we need to know where he is! Where I come from in Italy we’re not adverse to chopping priests to bits!”
“Maxine!” I shouted and jumped to my feet.
“Father, excuse Maxine. Her experiences with Men of the Church have not always been pleasant.”
“Did you chop the bishop’s finger off, Maxine?”
“No. If it had been me, I would have cut his dick off, but it was too small for a decent whack!!!”
“Maxine!” I screamed again. “In the name of the Saints…”
“Ah, yes,” Father Raynor said, picking up one of the figurines, “the Saints. And who do we have here?”
“No one you or your church would recognize.” I sneered.
“Judging from what Bishop Bassanni told me, I would guess this is the mythical Sybian of Sybaris.”
“That’s SAINT Sybian!” Now I was shouting. “And I can assure you she is NOT a myth!”
“Maybe I should cut his dick off, Milo!” Maxine hissed and reached for the knife on the cheese board.
“Well,” the priest smiled, ”You’d be taking the least useful part of me!’
“I don’t know, Padre,” Esperanza joined the discussion, “You seem to always be surrounded by some pretty nubile altar girls.”
“They are things of beauty, eh? I am a great lover of beauty, but, I’m afraid, not a great lover. Doctors saw to that years ago. But I do love beauty in the female form and in the arts. You did not see me at Felix’s concert, did you? Felix himself invited me. He said, ’you’ve got to see Esperanza dance! But be careful! She’ll steal your heart AND your soul. I’m serious Padre Ernie!’---that’s what he called me. And may I say Esperanza he was quite accurate.”

“Well, Padre Ernie, you still have your heart and soul,” Esperanza smiled. She purposely brushed against him as she was leaving the room with Danny.
“At least for now,” she said quietly.

“Well, Milo, you seem to have great faith in Sybian.” Father Raynor returned to the subject.
“It’s not faith, Father, I have seen her. And, if I’m not mistaken, you will too, before you’re through. Maybe she’s hiding behind Samantha’s smile. No?”
The priest stood up and looked out the porch door at the woods and the lake down the road. He could hear the laughter of the girls.
He turned to Maxine and said softly,
“Forgive me, Maxine. May I have that glass of wine now?”

Mass Appeal

Immediately upon getting out of the van, the girls could feel the freshness and smell the freedom of the estate. There was just a general feeling of happiness. As they followed Francesca and Ramona down the wood paths toward the campgrounds and lakefront, they stopped and munched on the mint and other plants that grew along the path. Smiles and laughter were everywhere.

“Do you like to dance? Do you like to take pictures? Do you like to sing? You can do all that here. Plus swimming and laying in the sun, and munching on all the fruits that grow around here.”

Some of the girls ran all around, overflowing with energy. Others like Samantha and a girl named Denise, preferred to sit and talk with Francesca and Ramona.


They found the dance costumes from Maxine’s classes and had fun acting out fantasy of ancient times, and just running around…





















The older girls relaxed by the water, drinking berry punch, and fruit in cream, taking each other’s pictures and feeling more uninhibited. Ramona was sure to keep the younger girls occupied with the games, so the older ones would be comfortable with their young-adulthood.




It was wonderful to see these strait-laced girls, loosen up with no one around, and have Francesca and Ramona show them what Vita Voluptua was about. Opening up to nature, they glimpsed the many pleasures life could hold for them.

There was a feeling of such naturalness and freedom to them. DULCE PRIMAVERA!!! Once, Esperanza and Danny wandered by to see how they were doing and the girls just giggled; it was Danny who turned away, totally embarrassed. Even Esperanza had to laugh. Sybian , no doubt, was quite proud.

Father Raynor and Samantha, Part 1

Good Welcome, again.
On the Wednesday before we were to leave, Father Raynor called to tell me that, while cleaning the rooms he had rented to Bishop Bassanni, he had found some things he thought we’d be interested in. These were beautiful spring days out near the forest preserve, so I invited him out for the day and to bring along his altar girls. (Samantha and the others had wanted to know if they could see the estate.) He agreed it sounded relaxing and we made a date for Friday.
When the van from the church pulled up to the main house of the estate, Fr. Raynor got out along with about six or seven girls. Ramona probably remembers all the names; I recognized Samantha from the rectory. She seemed to be the “ring-leader’ of the girls, and she had that mischief-loving look that I remembered in dear Mia’s eyes. Maxine agreed with me.
Francesca and Ramona took the girls on a tour of the grounds and had a full day of activities planned. Meanwhile, Danny helped Fr. Raynor unload a large bundle wrapped in red silk cloth from the back of the van, and we sat down on the patio. While Danny and Esperanza brought chilled wine and cheeses to the table, we chatted about little things.
Finally, with everyone seated, Father had Danny place the package before us on the table. He took the red silk covering off slowly. We could see the cloth was a liturgical vestment of some kind. This is what was underneath the cloth:






A good-sized wood box with intricate carvings, short solid legs and a hinged top, which he opened to reveal the following objects:





As he took out each object from the wood box and placed it on the table he paused to study our faces for clues. Finally he said, “I’ve had enough mass-kits in my day to know that this box is some kind of portable altar, and these utensils are for a worship service of sorts.”

Again he reached into the container and produced two figures wrapped in white cotton. He unwrapped them carefully and presented them to us.

















As he placed them both in the center of the table, again his eyes searched ours, and then looked to the mantle above the fireplace, where we had placed a figurine, and a picture of Esperanza:

















“I’m no fool. I’m certain you had more to do with Bishop Bassanni than you are saying. But, before I call the Federal Agents, my friends, I would like to know exactly who you are, and who ---- or what----you are dealing with.”

He sat down, munched on a piece of cheese and washed it down with a white Bordeaux.

Gimme Shelter

Janice hated the third shift and was mad at herself for getting talked into covering for Nancy.
“She never helps me out,” she thought, “I’m just too soft.”

She used to like the midnight shift. It was very quiet. Her hourly rounds rarely took more than 20 to 25 minutes, and the rest of the hour was usually hers to read or watch the small T.V. in the back office, or chat on the phone. She would call Todd every hour and they would just laugh back and forth. But Todd had dumped her and the last thing she wanted now was time to herself. She should be out there right now, clubbing big time. But here she was stuck in the “Gimme Shelter”.

That’s what all the nurses called this place, “The Gimme Shelter.” These people weren’t sick, they were selfish attention seekers---“gimme this, gimme that”--- all except for the new patient in 309, and he was nearly comatose. How did anyone know he belonged in this hospital?

Oh well, all the patients had their medications and were sedated for the night. All that was left was 309.

She opened the door and went into the dimly-lit room. She checked the monitors and signed the chart and then went to adjust the bedding.

“Good Evening, Mr. Culpa. Mr. Culpa, Can you hear me?
Do you know where you are, Mr. Culpa?
You’re in the Elgin Mental Health Center, Mr. Culpa.
Oh, now look what you’ve done. You’ve soiled yourself.
Just like a baby. Poor Felix, just like a baby!
I’ll have to get the orderly to help change your bedding.”

She checked the chart again.
“I’ll be back soon, Mr. “Last Name: Culpa/ First Name: Felix/ Middle Name: Sebastian.”

Good Welcome, again.
Now that the funeral is over, we are all staying at the estate south of Chicago. Emilio is seeing to the upkeep of the estate. Francesca and Ramona introduced us to the novitiates, more than 20 men and women learning about the voluptuary teachings of Sybian. I described to them my vision of Sybian, my training of Felix, and read from my notes of my biography of Sybian. They, in turn, did a beautiful performance of some of Felix’s music.

Danny Pierce, ----- “Esperanza’s latest fuck”, as Maxine refers to him,----- has been driving me around Chicago. We visited the Metro School where Felix worked and was last seen; No one has seen him since. Then we spent an afternoon at the Admiral Theater where Maxine and Pedro both worked. A fascinating place, Danny and I drank beer and talked to many of Pedro’s friends.


We also visited Father Raynor at St. Joe’s Rectory. We asked to go into the convent, but Father refused, saying it was all boarded up and unsafe. We saw a light on inside, but Raynor said the janitor must have left it on. One of the altar girls from the funeral, Samantha, showed us out. She said to say hello to Ramona. I remember Ramona and Francesca talking to the girls at the cemetery.

I like Danny and I think Maxine does too, though she can’t bring herself to admit it, such is the fierce rivalry between Esperanza and her. He’s a bit lost and confused, and has no idea who –or what--- he’s gotten involved with. He’s smart, loves to write and is majoring in History at DePaul University. In fact, I know his Professoressa, Dr. Maddalena de Pazzi. She wrote her Doctoral thesis on the history of Sybaris, and for awhile was the assistant to Orville H. Bullit, author of “The Search for Sybaris”. Alas, Prof. Bullit was an atheist, and dismissed stories of St. Sybian as mere folk tales spread by witches.

Esperanza and I talk every morning down at the fieldstone grotto; we talk about Mia, the love of Felix’s life. She wants to know what she was like, how she wore her hair, how she danced. Just yesterday, she started crying. (“Is it possible to miss someone you’ve never known?”) She wants to go to Rosarno and visit Mia’s secret resting place. (Maxine has not revealed to her the name on the tomb.) “She and I have to talk”, Esperanza said. I believe Esperanza has a strange notion of uniting Mia, Maxine and Sybian in herself. We always end up in a flight of ecstasy, then lie exhausted in the dewy grass in the early morning sun.

Esperanza at the Estate




Maxine and I have decided to stay in Chicago one more week, and then return to Calabria. The Sybaris Institute needs us. We must decide the fate of the retrospective concert of Felix’s music, and find someone to write these computer notes so I can get back to my book.

To: Sis
From: Danny Boy


Thanks for worrying. I’m okay. I just don’t know what the hell I’m getting involved in, but I do know this is the most fascinating group of people I’ve been around. At first, I thought they were Mafia… you know a bunch of Italians talking sex and drugs and funerals… too much “Sopranos” I guess. Then I thought it was some weird cult, and they are in a way, except they seem to be pretty unorganized and they’re not into telling anybody what to do. They want to enjoy “The Fruits” as they call it ----- but you can take it or leave it. Their dancing and music is modern like Merce Cunningham or Meredith Monk, and they're very serious about their performing and their history.
I’ve been driving “Uncle Milo” around to different places. He’s been talking to me about helping him on his biography of Saint Sybian. My teacher at DePaul says it could possibly be a Masters Project for me.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up in Italy with Esperanza… She’s still my #1 project!!!

Did I tell you about the funeral? That was just fuckin weird!




Esperanza working on her choreography.

Professor Lockwood's Funeral

Good Welcome, again.

The funeral was a true homecoming for a lot of the people in the cortege, as the Church of St. Joseph of Cupertino was next door to the convent that Pedro had rented as his “Casa De Amor”, and where Ramona and Francesca had worked, before all adopted the ways of St. Sybian.
The Pastor, Father Raynor, who had made the rental agreement with Pedro, was now back to bingo and bakesales to raise money. The convent, the scene of the “suicide” of Bishop Bassanni and Pedro’s fatal heart attack, sat empty.
During the funeral, the four “Priestesses of Sybian” performed a liturgical dance to the last organ piece Felix Culpa had written, “Litany of the Rivers of Love”. Maxine gave the music to the parish organist who said he would “try to make some sense of it.” I recorded the music on my laptop…



Ramona, Esperanza, Francesca, Maxine
Dancing at Funeral of Patrick Lockwood
Si. Joseph of Cupertino Church, Chicago, Il

River Litany.mp3

Everyone in the congregation was incredibly moved not just by the stunning dance, but by the mesmerizing, engulfing organ music ------ I myself was shaking, so much it brought back the spirit of Felix Sebastian Culpa!!! As Maxine was leaving the church, she rushed over to thank the organist coming down the stairway in a daze. He told Maxine and the others that as he was getting ready to play the ”Litany,” an older man stinking of booze came up and motioned him away, took his place on the organ bench and began to play as if he knew the instrument and the music intimately. When he was finished, he nodded to the organist and left down the “sexton’s stairway”, which is normally locked as it leads only to the convent next door. The organist’s description left us all amazed, as it fit Felix perfectly.



After the funeral cortege had left, I lingered, still overwhelmed by the power of the ceremony I had just witnessed. All alone in the church, I wanted to take more photos of the church for the computer. All the while, I felt I was being watched. It was not until I put the pictures on the computer that I saw something in the balcony. Or did I?



At the cemetery, Father Raynor, just smiled and said it must have been the “smoke of the incense rising to the ceiling” and without further comment, left with the three altar girls.

Milo's Journal

Good welcome, dear readers: I am Milo Bellori, Felix’s Uncle, once his mentor and then his servant, now retired to the hills around Calabria, near the Bergamot Orange presses which I sold to Maxine. I spend most of my time working on a life-story of “Sybian: The People’s Saint.” It is my hope that, by publishing her story, pressure might finally be put on the Vatican to recognize her and move toward the official canonization she deserves. That would validate all the hardships her followers have had to put up with over the years. I do this at Sybian’s bidding.

Patrick Lockwood, so tragically taken from us in the plane crash in Milan, encouraged me in this project and I so looked forward to his assistance. Now, all is in pieces, both in Sybaris and here in Chicago, where I’ve accompanied Maxine Culpa for his funeral.

Maxine has asked me to keep an account of events for a while, until
someone can be found to carry on in Patrick’s stead. This I will try to do.

We arrived in Chicago, where we were met by people I knew only by name: Francesca, Ramona, Emilio and, of course, Esperanza. I picked her out of a crowd halfway across the airport concourse. She projected such a field of energy around her that I only saw once before, when I was blessed and honored with a brief vision of Sybian herself, back when Felix was only thirteen. She dressed like everyone else, walked and talked like them, but when you studied her, or rather when she studied you, there was a feeling that her beautiful, alluring body was as a garment she wore and underneath it was pure energy ---pure voluptuousness.

We hardly spoke at that first meeting, but I knew her and she knew I knew her and we both knew Sybian, she more intimately than me, but a secret knowledge we shared nonetheless.

At the hotel, while the others left for Patrick’s wake, Esperanza and I stayed behind in her room. She wanted to know about Felix and Sybian and their sexual/metaphysical relationship and about the love between Mia and Felix, and I wanted to know what she had experienced with Felix and Sybian. She wanted to know where Felix could be and so did I.

We were both nude---I quickly found out how much Esperanza abhorred clothing, unless it was luxuriant silk or plush velvet. I would soon learn she felt the same about her body, and at times could not wait to escape it. This was how we had sex that day--- if you can call sex outside of one’s body sex. It was instead waves, with ebbing and cresting tides of energy and undertows of electricity. For a marvelous time we were not two, but one whirlpool of building energy and release.

She returned to her body, and while I got back into my clothes, she seemed light years away, staring out the window and humming.



“We’d better be going”, I said, finally.
She nodded, and reached for her black silk dress, that looked like dark water in the lakeside twilight.