The Quest For Eternal Happiness

Chapter Five

I continued to stare at the curving gold lettering that almost seemed to ogle back towards me with a taunting smirk. The full name of the book was "God Doesn't Like Tattletales: The Veiled World of Hans Mueller's Children."

"Yuh'right, suga?" Ms. Eckhart's voice dragged me back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll take the book." I said.

"Yuh mean 'borrow'?"

"Yeah, sorry, borrow." I responded, thinking about Jason's overdue copy of The Antichrist. "Of course, sunshine." Ms. Eckhart exclaimed. "Come 'round with me t'thuh back, I'll show yuh 

the tapes."

I had completely forgot about the tapes as my mind had diverged that afternoon, but now my palms grew sweaty with the anticipation of what was to come.

I followed Ms. Eckhart, snaking between the towering bookshelves once more, until we came to a solid looking door that imprinted itself next to a white brick staircase. She fumbled in her pockets, coming up with a set of keys chained to a ring, and inserted one, unlocking the door.

Ms. Eckhart tugged at a bronze pull chain light switch that dangled on the side of the doorway, and turned on a small, warm light-bulb embedded in the wall that cast a hazy light over the entire room. It was clearly a storage closet, with most of the shelves and boxes having a thin layer of gray clumpy dust. However, I could also make out an old CRT that rested on a wooden cabinet. Next to it was an old, black VCR of some sort, an ancient piece of technology – at least to me.

"Youse gonna have to step 'round the mess." Said Ms. Eckhart. "Come 'ere to the TV."

I followed her as we walked towards the middle of the room, which the large CRT was. "There's a whole lot more 'bout the Children then what's been said in the news." Ms. Eckhart began. "I swear on the lord, they were one of the most devilish groups of people ya could eva' hang 'round."

"What do you know about the cult?" I asked curiously.

"I know 'nuff to make me hate 'em." She continued. "Their propaganda used'a be everywhere. They 'ad self-help books, alternative medicine, little ''magic' rings you could find in ere' hippie coffee shop south of Dallas."

"Really? I never knew they were that big."

"Oh, they were big, alright." Ms. Eckhart scrambled around a metal shelf, clawing together a few tapes, and began sorting through them, seeming to look for one in particular. "Ah-ha." She clutched one of the tapes and threw the other back onto the metal shelf with a loud thud. "The BBC did an interview with The Children, comin' overseas to Texas, 'round 1996 at the height of 'er popularity."

She popped open the top of the VCR and set the tape down into the cartridge slot, closing the lid. She sauntered over to the shelf again, grabbing a dusty TV remote.

"This tape is that." Said Ms. Eckhart. "I think –" She turned on the TV as a picture appeared on the screen, "That it'll give ya' some good insight. I know youse into all that spiritual stuff, ain'tcha Fletch?"

I smiled, "Yeah, kinda."

She gave me a smile before unpausing the tape.

"The Children of Reconstructed Consciousness was founded by Hans Mueller in 1989. Their main goal? According to many followers, is to transcend the body and mind, while following a mixed religious canon of both Buddhist and Christian beliefs. Or, as me and my crew believe rather skeptically, to follow whatever Hans Mueller tells them to follow."

There were panning shots of what seemed to be the religious grounds. It was astonishingly beautiful – there was a white building with ornate architectural decorations, nature trails, and even a shot of what looked like a Koi pond.