Patty looked out of the window as the train pulled into Union Station Kansas City, searching the crowd for her friend. Patty loved the hustle and bustle of train stations, all the people coming and going, seeing people off, welcoming people back—it was a tangled junction of interconnecting lives. It always made her introspective, and today she reflected on how her own life had changed course when her old friend Faye had fallen in love with a lemurian.

If that hadn’t happened Patty’s curiosity about lemurian history and culture would never have been ignited, and she certainly wouldn’t have gone on to study anthropology. She probably wouldn’t have gone to university, or college, at all. Her parents had been against the idea. It was an expensive affair, and a girl getting her degree seemed like a waste. What use would it be when she would spent her days taking care of the many grandchildren they were expecting of her? On top of that, Patty was the eldest of six children. What if they all wanted to follow in her footsteps? Who was going to pay for that? And anthropology? What business did a good Christian have with anthropology?

But Patty had persevered—it was the first battle she had ever fought with her parents, and she had won! She was accepted at San Diego State, and living away from home had opened up her eyes in many ways.

She had written her master’s thesis on Lemurian Religion and Metaphysics—and had sent a copy to Mr. Branch, her old history teacher back home, who had shared her interest in Lemurian culture. Without telling her, Mr. Branch had sent his copy to an old friend of his, who ran a publishing house in Denver, Colorado. This man had personally called Patty to tell her he would very much like to publish her work.

The book (or rather ‘booklet’) had been a modest success and was translated in French and German. Interest in Lemurian culture was becoming a worldwide phenomenon, and her booklet had been the right booklet at the right time.

Faye had sent Patty a copy of Johnny’s manuscript of Lemurian tales when she was working on her thesis, and it had been a great help, and had made a great impression on her.

Now that her booklet had been a success and the publisher had recently asked if she had any ideas for a follow-up, she had made a selection of Johnny’s tales, and sent it to the publisher, who was keen to publish it.

She couldn’t wait to tell Johnny. He might want to make a different selection, of course, or he might want to try and have the complete manuscript published. It would be his book, after all. She hadn’t even told Faye about it yet. It was a surprise—a wedding gift.

That’s right, Faye and Johnny were getting married.

Patty hadn’t seen Faye for six years, ever since the couple had eloped. Patty and Faye had lived on opposite ends of the country, but in a way they had been closer than ever these past years. They wrote each other long letters, and they had enjoyed putting their thoughts and feelings into words very much—it practically developed into therapy sessions for both.

Ah! There she was! Patty waved, to no effect, then opened the window and yelled, “Pearly!”

Pearly entered the train compartment carrying a wicker suitcase. She wore a denim overall over a white blouse, had a red kerchief tied round her neck and a black beret on her head. Dressed as a painter in Paris, Patty thought. They smiled and they hugged—not too tightly because Pearly had a photo camera as large as her head hanging on her chest. “What’s this?” Patty had asked, referring to the camera.

“Oh, this is my ‘Outer Eye’, so to speak. I take pictures of people on the street, or people working, people being people, generally. It’s great! After being stared at my whole life, now I stare back, through my 50mm lens!”

During the trip Patty would understand what exactly she had meant by that. Whenever people or a group of people would go out of their way to get a good look at this lemurian girl on the train, she would point her camera at them and take their picture. Sometimes she’d even say thank you. Most people didn’t know how to react to that, and it was clear they didn’t like being photographed as some curiosity. Perhaps next time they would think twice about looking at other people as if they were in a zoo.

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Pearly had been driven to Kansas by the father of a human friend of hers, because lemurians still weren’t allowed on public transport in Texas. Some years ago it had become legal in Missouri, and from here to New York she was in the clear.

The train pulled away. It was her first time in a train. Once her excitement had passed, and she had gotten over how smoothly a train moved (“Why do people even still use cars?”), she settled down and they talked.

They hadn’t spoken each other in years, and Faye had been the one who had arranged for them to meet on the train.

Pearly spoke enthusiastically about her photography. There was a dark room in the community house where Faye and Johnny had lived for years, Johnny had written to her, and Pearly had wanted to try and develop her own film for a long time. Johnny and Faye had their own home now, but it was around the corner from the community, and Pearly could make use of the dark room day and night, Johnny had promised.

Patty talked about the book deal she had brokered for Johnny’s lemurian tales (glad to finally tell someone) and Pearly was sure Johnny would love to see his book published. Pearly was of course familiar with all the tales and knew many of them by heart. She had her own opinion on what selection to make, and they discussed that for a long while.

Then they talked about Odessa and its people.

Pearly opened her suitcase and took out two photos Johnny had sent her. Patty pushed her glasses back up her nose. The first picture was of Johnny and Faye (pregnant again) and the two kids shoveling snow. It was adorable. The second picture showed two electrifying dresses hung on wooden mannequins, one Patty’s size and one Pearly’s size. They were wonderfully colorful and looked like folk costumes from some made-up dream country. The top part was knitted in a dazzling pattern, approximating a rainbow on drugs, and the skirt consisted of red and white strips of linen. Down the back hung a cape of dark mahogany red and up and down the sleeves were stitched small balls of wool or cotton. The mannequin wore long necklaces seemingly made of colored pieces of wood and plastic and a dainty embroidered bonnet with lace and strings of beads hanging down the sides.

The wedding would take place in the community home where a small chapel had been established, and would follow ‘ancient Lemurian rites’, which for the most part had been made up recently.

The Church of the First Mother in New York was now a legally recognized institution and considered tax-exempt by the IRS. It had its counterpart on the West Coast, the Church of the Children of the Great Current, and both rode the wave of a broad religious awakening of the 1960s (as did other recently formed churches, such as the Church of Satan and the Reformed Druids of North America).

Brick and Pearly still wrote to each other about twice a year. He wasn’t part of the church, and had written he wasn’t sure this would benefit the emancipation of the lemurians. A new religion only created another divide, he believed. On the other hand, most of the new followers, who came from all over the country, weren’t lemurian but human. Mainly young men and women, Brick remarked, from upper-middle class families who could afford to waste a couple of years of their lives with frivolous pursuits. Brick believed the Church to be nothing but a fad to most of them.

The church wedding would be for fun, Johnny had told Pearly, and they would also have to file a civil marriage for it to be recognized by the State. Interspecies marriage between humans and lemurians had been legalized by the State of New York only two years ago, in 1967. Other states had followed and it was now legal in roughly a third of the country.

The world was changing fast, and Patty and Pearly where there to enjoy the ride.

“My, we’ll look marvelous!” said Patty with the picture in her hand.

“We’ll be the grooviest bridesmaids ever!” said Pearly.

The End