(Read: ~9 minutes)
Different spies in the US government continued to keep an eye on Dr. Gaston after the Drug Enforcement Agency gave up. The freedom of information portal run by the Central Intelligence Agency provides the proof in thousands of documents made public by court orders over the years. The CIA calls themselves the first line of defense for the USA, and according to their website, “collect and analyze intelligence to further national security and preempt threats.” The FOIA website provides a glaring look into the dark and strange crevices where the CIA operates. An operative collected all the information in the database, even if no official action was taken. There’s never any indication of why or by whom, and usually, even dates get blacked out.
All of this provides plenty of red meat for conspiracy theorists, especially in terms of Bohemia. The names Rosa Bix, La Bohème and Dr. Gaston Billingsgate all appear in the database, alongside thousands of results related to psychic phenomena, past life experiences and LSD. In fact, the CIA began monitoring DOPS at its inception. Rumors and accusations persist to this day that dark money funding DOPS current operations stems from the spy agency’s longstanding interest in mind control capabilities and psychic insight.
Both Dr. Gaston and Rosa made appearances in the database due to their involvement with DOPS. The agency collected copies of Gaston’s college transcripts, his curriculum vitae and a copy of his doctoral dissertation, The Effect of Quantum Neural Functioning on Human Consciousness. In the original work, he argues classic Newtonian physics fail to explain the working of neurons in the human brain, instead positing a quantum mechanics based approach to define human consciousness. One imagines the government pondering ways to manipulate Gaston’s research on entanglement between particles in the brain in an attempt at remote mind control. Or possibly adapting his work on mental superposition to let agents be in two places at once if they’re never discovered.
Later, when Rosa moved to Charlottesville, the CIA collected documents including her birth certificate, report cards and a copy of her third-grade school picture. The DOPS director’s snarky letter even wound up in the file, part of a steady trickle of information added to the database over the span of that first decade. Then the agency continued to keep tabs on both of them once Gaston left DOPS for Mexico and Rosa began her apprenticeship with Madame Rouge. Their interest picked up significantly when Gaston and La Bohème renewed their sessions. Subsequent FOIA requests revealed the CIA gathered and reviewed information about the whereabouts and goings on of La Bohème almost in real time right up until her death. The question whether the agency ever acted remains a robust matter of debate amongst conspiracy theorists.
With Gaston’s help, La Bohème emerged from her self-imposed isolation emanating a powerful confidence which filled the shop and encompassed the strip mall. The excitement in the neighborhood and the city exploded when La Bohème started to work with the public again. Madame Rouge’s neon sign continued to flash, but no longer appeared necessary. The old fortune-teller welcomed the development. She told anyone who listened how God sent La Bohème to fill the metaphysical needs of the neighborhood, the city, the world. And time would prove doubters wrong.
Of all the things La Bohème could do, all the places to go, she stayed at home, back to the reading room in the run-down strip mall and her adopted family, preserving a sense of place inside instead of letting the spot be forgotten. Besides, the people there still needed her help.
“What about yourself?” a client asked her.
“I’m less convinced of self,” she replied. Her advocates fawned over her natural grace and selflessness, saying the internal light of La Bohème beckoned wandering souls to abandon cold isolation for welcoming warmth.
I can’t help but wonder if she used empathy to fight loneliness the same way she sought publicity to control being watched.
The rise of La Bohème to prominence and the growth of Bohemia spanned the better part of a decade. People who watched the neighborhood transform from sideshow to headline remark how the process progressed naturally, as if meant to happen. Talk rarely shifted to the fact La Bohème worked herself to exhaustion trying to meet the demands of the growing community gathered around her. Eventually, Madame Rouge stepped in to conserve the young mystic’s energy and sanity by imposing strict hours for the reading room, never letting anyone in before nine in the morning or after nine at night, no exceptions.
Though La Bohème still did twelve plus hours of readings every day, she couldn’t meet demand. Most days, people were left waiting for the chance to see La Bohème. Readings the next day started first come, first served, so the people left waiting started to stay in line all night. At first, the overnighters slept in chairs and sleeping bags on the sidewalk under the strip mall’s overhang while flickering fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. As word spread about the mystic of Bohemia, and the line to see her began to stretch into days. Folks began to pitch tents, cook food and generally hang out, turning the strip mall into a round-the-clock gathering spot. Connie brought in Port-o-Jons and set up a mobile spa with showers and massage chairs run off a generator. She let people use the toilets for free and charged for the spa and shower.
The experience of standing in line just to see La Bohème became known as The Wait, which, according to legend, could take anywhere from a couple days to a week or longer. Iconic pictures and stories of people waiting in those early, heady days of Bohemia dominate the movement’s early history. Participants wear the experience like a badge of honor. “Mine was one of the longest waits ever, and the experience transformed my life.”
Folks eagerly shared the epiphanies La Bohème bestowed during their pilgrimage through songs, poems and paintings on canvas. The energy meant you might see or feel something new when you hung around the neighborhood. The scene ranged from psychedelic circus to metaphysical street revival frequented by college students and faculty, townies and tourists, also friendly gangs of bikers who enjoyed the sense of freedom in Bohemia, and tripping on LSD.
Anyone who wanted to see La Bohème waited like everyone else. A group of zealous line monitors euphemistically called docents enthusiastically imposed order, a karmic penance to gain an audience with La Bohème. No one could hold your place in line except for bathroom breaks. Docents made limited accommodations for folks with special needs, but nothing got you past waiting the amount of time required.
When your chance came to see La Bohème, she guaranteed no amount of time, except the time you needed. Most people only got a few minutes, a lucky few, mostly regulars who frequented the Wait, got a half-hour. Once inside the waiting room, people sat in a row of pleather chairs, overseen by a fading portrait of Rodolfo and Lucia del Vecchio, taken at Sears shortly before he passed away. When the time came for their reading, a volunteer escorted visitors down a dimly lit hallway to the beaded curtain covered entrance of a small room then onto a pink paisley couch purchased years before at an estate sale by Madame Rouge when she opened the reading room. La Bohème always sat in a favorite, vintage orange wingback chair. Madame Rouge sat in her familiar rocking chair.
Visitors mostly asked about living, dying and money, and how to avoid unwanted outcomes. La Bohème might offer a suggestion to correct the course, though she often doubted anything could be done to change the situation.
Once, a client spoke to La Bohème about a conflict caused by the accuracy of the mystic’s visions, which came true despite the client’s attempts to alter the outcome. “If you can already see what’s going to happen to me, how can I ever hope to control my life, my own destiny?” they asked.
She answered, “Our lives consist of what happens to us and our response. Life reflects the meaning we give to ourselves. No matter what happens, free will exists in the power to control our own perspective. The power to see love in the world makes us all free, no matter what happens around us. Each of us retains the power and freedom to determine meaning in our lives and thus our own reasons for surviving, meaning the need is part of our basic programming. My readings don’t come from a vacuum. Without the context and meaning everyone provides to the events of their life, making sense of these visions is difficult, regardless of their orientation in the past, present or future.”
Over time, the nagging of naysayers, none of whom lived in the neighborhood, complaining about the crowds attracted to Bohemia forced the city to take action. Worried about optics, appearances and image, city officials cited codes requiring permitting for large gatherings and ordered The Wait to shut down permanently. All future activity at the reading room required pre-set appointments and the police started to enforce anti-loitering laws in the shopping center again.
Although she took the fight all the way to the City Council, Connie failed to stop the rules. In response, she finally determined what to do with the vacant space once called Mulligan’s. Within a couple of months or so, she opened the Bohemia Wellness Center in the same spot. Inside, she sectioned the space to put in a reception area, plus private rooms for a couple of float pods meant for the community’s use. Connie set aside private studios and stands for health-based small businesses, including an herbalist and a physical therapist who rhythmically tapped on various parts of their client’s body to clear clogged neuro pathways. In no time, the center bustled with people using the floats and looking for homeopathic remedies.
Bohemia attracted social media travel influencers and Connie paid for an app featuring a walking tour of the neighborhood’s ever-expanding array of murals and cultural attractions, many offering coupons and deals aimed at tourists hoping to see La Bohème, or just be near her. Connie kept the stage in the Wellness Center and the altered layout still allowed fifty folding chairs in front of the stage with standing room around the periphery. La Bohème started performing shows several times per week and always sold out.
Despite being highly produced affairs, the updated format provided an intimacy lacking in the open mics or vaudeville shows. Each Sesh with La Bohème lasted about an hour and consisted of a discussion about whatever La Bohème thought relevant and entertaining. She invited experts to join her on stage, and of course spent a lot of the time interacting with the audience.
Once, La Bohème attached individualized readings under each seat for every member of the audience. Connie sold the seats general admission rather than preassigned, but La Bohème anticipated exactly where everyone would sit. Several people broke into tears after reading the personal message she had placed under their seat.
At another show, she placed giant bowls filled with wrapped fortune cookies at the entrance, the sayings inside came from La Bohème herself. A few guests admitted to trying to grab multiple fortunes, but every additional cookie they took from the bowl lacked a message inside, no matter their number of attempts. Meanwhile, guests still arriving received messages in their first attempt. The feat marveled participants and similar stories spread about the young psychic. The edges between La Bohème, a person, and the phenomena growing around her faded once a thriving community began to circle around her growing stardom.
Continuing in the tradition of the original open mic nights and vaudeville festivals, creativity remained an integral part of Bohemia’s economic and cultural growth. In fact, the stage saw plenty of action in addition to La Bohème. The Dewberrys stood out in terms of their commercial appeal. Connie signed the talented act to a promotional deal and soon the band’s photogenic front person, Wildberry, became a hit with kids aged 6 to 10 across the country. Fans loved the zany ten minute episodes crammed with a chaotic mash of skits and songs, all filmed and produced by Connie. Almost immediately, rumors began circulating concerning Wildberry’s string of boyfriends and girlfriends and her growing influence behind the scenes living and promoting a bohemian lifestyle.
The stage saw a string of soon-to-be stars, including Dr. Gaston, who frequently appeared alongside La Bohème to offer a mix of folksy advice and suggestions for bio-computer inspired self-improvement techniques. Popular topics included body image, impulse control and anger management. Bohemians clearly loved the dynamic and Connie was happy to monetize Gaston’s philosophies. In addition to the shows, Connie and Gaston collaborated on a slew of herbal and synthetic enhancements with focus-group tested names including Biocomputer Mega Boost and Conscious Memory Upgrade, which one of their LLCs still ships directly from Gaston’s Mexican manufacturing operations to any address in the United States.
The freedom promoted in Bohemia combined with growing interest in biocomputer programming ushered in a newfound demand for psychedelics and psychological exploration. Trips involved well-known hallucinogenic substances including natural substances like psilocybin in mushrooms and mescaline in peyote, but also synthetic substances originally developed as anesthetics and tranquilizers.
Proponents of non-drug related methods of biocomputer exploration also blossomed. For example, practitioners of orgasmic breathing techniques claimed to reach euphoric programming levels naturally. Another group consisting of ultra-marathoners pushed their minds and bodies to the edge of death while exploring the interface between their software and hardware.
The energy generated by Bohemians looking for their next, better, different, personal, communal, historic, or unknown meaning drove excitement in the neighborhood. Connie Nelson played a paramount role in the growth. Working with La Bohème, their imagination thrived where previous traditions failed. Their efforts filled voids in the community by providing innovative and coveted services, ultimately assisting people from all over the city. Connie took on space wherever she could to house the various initiatives she backed with La Bohème in food, education and housing. After a while, Bohemia stretched across multiple blocks in the formerly forlorn part of town. Their vegan restaurant specialized in preparing non-meat dishes mimicking the real thing and occupied a building abandoned by a corporate burger chain. The cafe operated successfully under a neighborly pay what you can pricing model. Most people gave extra knowing the money fed a person in need. Bohemia’s cooperative preschool took over an old automotive service center, the glass enclosed bays filled with children developing a love of learning based on their own interests rather than any particular curriculum. Parents worked at the school to participate in their child’s development and the lives of other neighborhood families.
Working her contacts in the city, Connie gained approval to build a small neighborhood of tiny homes on an abandoned lot. Bohemian Village consists of craftsman inspired, two story houses totaling four hundred square feet each, which include an open concept first floor with a gourmet’s kitchen and living room with vaulted ceiling. The unit’s bathroom features a walk-in shower with river rock flooring while the loft up a full size set of stairs fits a king size bed and closet. Connie sold every unit to local educators and first responders starting out in life, a few families got started there after the young neighbors mingled, later moving into one of Connie’s bigger places in the city. The decorative brick wall placed at the community’s entrance prominently features a professionally designed logo with a dolphin in the center. La Bohème chose dolphins to represent her personal brand, and all over the neighborhood, smiling versions of the creature jump out at you. Dolphins adorn flags hanging from light posts, beckon from storefront logos, and rise several stories tall in murals painted on the sides of buildings. And of course, a wax dolphin stuck to the back of the invitation promising a fortune of my own.
Arlo Gust 