As I’d anticipated the evening before, the famous San Francisco fog had crept in on little cat feet and blanketed much of the city.  By 11 am, when I started across the PacBell parking lot, visibility had increased to nearly a hundred feet and I could see the three SFPD cars parked beside a cluster of women, all dressed in flashy trashy ‘club’ wear.  For this outing I’d come in ‘costume’ so there would be no mistake who had called such an assembly.

“Good morning, Sergeant,” I said as I approached.

The cop scowled.  “Ghost Archer . . .”

“What seems to be the trouble,” I asked.  The cop gestured to the gathering of women, more than a few obviously underage.

“They told us they were supposed to be here to meet someone,” the sergeant replied.

“That would be me,” I announced loud enough to the crowd to hear.

The cop shrugged.  “Okay, I guess.  You need any help?”

I gave him a half smile.

“I think I can handle things from here,” I told him.  “Thank you, Sergeant.”  My tone was purposely dismissive and the officer took the hint.  With a nod to his colleagues he ducked into the patrol car and rolled slowly toward the parking lot entrance.  I turned to the assembled women.  Not one had touched the donuts and coffee probably afraid to under the watchful eye of the SFPD.  As I stepped up to stand before the tables, the soft murmurs died and a hundred pairs of haunted eyes stared at me.

“Good morning, I am Ghost Archer and before anything else,” I gestured to the tables.  “This is for you.  Please, help yourselves then if you would, take a seat.”

“You gone preacher on us, Mr. Archer?” A voice called from the anonymity of the crowd.

“No, not at all, I would, however, appreciate it if you would allow me to make you an offer,” I said.

There was a smattering of nervous laughter punctuated by more than a few crude remarks concerning my prowess with so many.

I raised a hand.

“I know, it sounds like another con,” I said.  “How many of you know Vicki?”

Most of them raised a hand.

“Then you know what kind of condition she was in,” I said, my voice hard.  “Last night I did for her what I am offering you.”

There was a sparkling a foot to my right as Vicki materialized.  I wasn’t sure how much of the gasp was from the method in which she appeared or the change that had been wrought in the child over night.

The skinny, bleach blonde girl in the cheap clothes that had been offering her body to strangers on the streets the night before  was gone.  In her place was a stunning brunette dressed in buckskins and soft boots, her cheeks flushed with health, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement.  As I had asked, she remained beside me, allowing the audience to take her in.

“That ain’t Vicki!” someone called.

“Is too!” said another.

The murmur returned, I held up both hands.

“Look, get some food, have some coffee or cocoa and I’ll tell you what’s happening then I’ll be glad to answer all your questions.”

I nodded to Vicki and she beamed at me before rushing into the arms of an older woman.  The first tentative advances were made then a general rush at the food.  I stood by impassively and watched without comment.  As expected no one approached me and more than a few kept me covered with suspicious eyes.  It was hard to blame them.

Most sat once they had my offerings, a few hung back at the edge of the crowd and as the hot drinks began to warm them they slowly relaxed.  I gestured for Vicki to join me and briefly lowered my head to whisper in her ear.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

She looked up at me through tear filled eyes.

“You can really do for them what you did for me?”

“Every single one that wants me to,” I assured her.

I was a little surprised by her sudden hug but wrapped my arms around her and return the gesture.

“Let’s get started,” I said to her and she let me go.

I turned to the crowd.

“I am here to offer you a new life,” I began.  There was a collective groan and rolling of the eyes.  They’d all heard that before.  “Look, I am not here to save your souls.  I am here to give you a legitimate choice of how you will live the rest of your lives.”

“Vicki has spoken with a few of you and I know her words have circulated.  Yes, I can heal you, remove the drugs from your body and mend your bones, heal your wounds and cure your illnesses.  I assure you, I am not a ‘faith healer’ but I also assure you, I never lie.”

“Last night I paid a visit to Marcus, you may or may not know that.  I had a little talk with him involving my foot on his throat and a number of thinly veiled threats I assure you I would carry out.  I told him I wanted every single one of you here this morning, every ONE!  If he has missed even one of you, his life is going to get very exciting and not in a good way.  I told him I was taking every one of you from him.  And I am.”

The murmur begin again with a few overtones of anger and a few more of fear.

“I don’t know your stories, I don’t know how you came to belong to Marcus but I am sure it is not what you hoped for in life,” I went on.  “Raven Fireoak, my wife, is not from this world but her world has been destroyed.  I have offered to help her rebuild it.  This is where you all come in.”

               “Between us, Raven and I, we are offering to make you each as close to physically perfect as can be.  We are offering to give you a new world to build, a frontier world, one rich in everything but men like Marcus.  We are also offering near immortality.”

               That caused many incredulous smirks.  Again I gestured for Vicki.  As if choreographed  we pushed the hair back behind our ears.  My points weren’t as sharp or as delicate Vicki’s but all speech stopped as if by a switch.

               “We are elves, my people, my wife, my family and we offer you each of you the choice to remain here and return to Marcus or to come with us and be made whole, to be given a chance for a new life where you are free to decide how you will live.  And, if you choose, you can join us as elves and be granted eternal health, a nearly perfect body and near immortality.”

               An older woman stood, “So you want us to just up and leave?  Leave friends and family behind?”

               “The choice of your friends is theirs to make but all are welcome, including your families,” I said.

               “What if we don’t want to be elfs?” a voice called.

               “No one is going to force you to change, it is not our way.  You will be welcome as you are but I will insure you are healed to the peak of human fitness regardless of your choice.”

               A figure rose, it was a young man dressed as a woman.

               “What about someone like me,” he said dismally.

               “Gender is a single chromosome,” I said.  “And far easier to alter than one’s race.”

               “What if I don’t wanna be a white elf?” A young black woman called.

               “Then you can be a black elf,”  I replied.  “Elves are elves no matter the color, just as I believe humans are humans no matter the color.  There will be thirteen tribes of elves, each with their particular skills and talents, it will be for you to choose which you wish to join.”

               I began to move around stopping now and then to address individuals.

               “If you love the sea, you could become a lake elf and breathe underwater,” I said reaching out to take the hand of a woman with obvious arthritis.  I stroked her hand leaving a green line from wrist to finger tips.  She snatched her hand away and slowly opened and closed it.

               “What about lesbian elves?” a woman asked, her fingers entwined with that of another.

               “Bi-sexuality is fairly common in elves and no more frowned upon than having two eyes.”

               I stopped at a woman whose hands were shaking so bad she could hardly get the cup to her lips.  Squatting I touched her cheek with the palm of my hand.

               “How long has it been since your last fix,” I asked.

               “Last night some time,” she said.  “Marcus said he weren’t give nobody no more drugs.”

               I cupped her face in my hands and pushed the drug and the associated damage out of her as if blowing away dandelion fluff.

               “I don’t care what you are on nor does it matter what choice you make about my offer.  When you leave here, each of you will be healed and free of all addictions.”

               There was a derisive snort from a woman puffing away on a cigarette.  In a lightning move I stood and caught her wrist before she could bring the cigarette to her lips.

               “Lung cancer is a bad way to die,” I said feeling the disease growing in both lungs.  I plucked the cigarette from her fingers and dropped it to the asphalt then stepped on it. 

“Elves never get sick, they never get cancer, they never get STDs, they don’t even have any allergies.”

               Green light traveled up her arm and centered in her chest then faded after a moment.  I released her hand went she took a startled, cough free breath then stepped over to a young man with sad eyes.  Before he could react I put my hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

               “We never get AIDS.”

               Spock began to teleport people thirty minutes later and at the other end, Raven was waiting, offering each a personal welcome.  I waited for about half to gather a startling number of children and a very few friends willing to listen to the proposition.  By two, the number that chose to remain had dwindled to five.  I handed each a card.

               “If you change your mind, call that number, I will come for you within the hour.”

               One woman, possibly the oldest that had come that day looked at me for a long minute.

               “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

               “Why?  Because I can’t help everyone in the city every time they need it,” I said.  “I can’t stop men like Marcus.  Even if I killed him another would take his place.  So I offer what is open to me, a new beginning for those willing to take a chance.”

               “But what do you get out of it?”

               “Nothing,” I said quietly.  “Not a damn thing.”

               “What if we want to come back?” she asked softly.

               “I bring you back.”

               Outside the baseball stadium that day, in a parking lot, I batted 1.000.