Jesus Freaks (19 page)

Ricky's aunt started to cry again, sobbing between her words.

“I always feel like we didn't help him enough,” she said. “If he could have found what he was looking for, he could have changed.”

Perhaps, but on that Christmas Day in 2004, Ricky was just looking for one thing—information as to the whereabouts of Karen Zerby and Peter Amsterdam. He had reason to believe they might show up at his grandparent's place for the holidays. They had come here before, and so had Techi, the little sister he so desperately wanted to save.

Ricky's first visit to Tucson—his first meeting with Aunt Rosemary and Aunt Jeannie and his grandparents—was when he was just sixteen or seventeen. It was before he'd met Elixcia. Rosemary and her family had not seen Karen since she disappeared that day in 1969 in the van with Jane Berg and the Teens for Christ. There had been letters, some phone calls, but Karen was gone.

“It was like she died,” her sister said.

Over the years, it became clear that Karen was not just an ordinary member of The Family. Former members and anticult movement leaders had established contact with Rosemary, and she had become well aware that her sister was practically running The Family.

The first emissary Zerby sent back to her family in Tucson was her son. It was the first time Ricky met his grandparents, aunts, and cousins.

His shepherds shadowed Ricky on his visit. Rosemary called them “his wardens.”

It was the early nineties, and Ricky was still loyal to his mother. His escorts had a computer and were in constant contact with The Family. Ricky would talk for a while, and then someone would go into another room to call Family leaders. “He was still a young kid under the influence of his mother and the group. Everything he said was how wonderful his mother was and all that kind of thing—things that he was supposed to say. He was told to visit. He was told to go visit his grandparents.”

Ricky did, however, get a glimpse at another world. Rosemary's daughter, Rachel, was the same age as Ricky and took him into Tucson to experience something called “Downtown Saturday Night,” a gathering of the punk rock, pierced, and tattooed subculture of the early nineties. “She was just being friendly and wanted to take him somewhere,” Rosemary said. “She thought he ought to go out and see the world.” Ricky's “wardens” went along on the outing. Within a couple of days, the family visitation was over and Ricky was gone.

Two years later Zerby sent Ricky's sixteen-year-old sister, Techi, to Tucson to meet his grandparents. She seemed less comfortable out in the real world than her big brother. “I don't think it was some
thing she wanted. She had been told to go visit her grandparents,” Rosemary said. “It was the same drill, but Techi was different than Ricky. She was introverted. The women who were with her gave her comfort. She wasn't used to being away from the group and being introduced to these new people who came up and hugged her.

“It had been all very hush-hush about when they would get here. I'm not sure why they did it, but I knew my sister never does anything without a reason. After Techi left I told my sister that Karen would be coming. She had sent her kids here, and they were safe. Nobody pounced on them and now she feels that she can come.”

Rosemary was right.

Karen came to Tucson in 1999. It was the same as the two previous visits. They said they were coming at one time, then they came at another time. Security was very tight. Everything was top secret.

Karen was most worried about Rosemary. She had publicly spoken out against The Family. One time, Rosemary was in the Kmart parking lot in Tucson when a couple of Family missionaries came up to her and handed her a tract. “I asked them, ‘Do you have any clue who I am?' They didn't. I said, ‘Don't even give me one of those. I'm Maria's sister, and I'm totally against all this.' They didn't react much. It didn't look like I made an impression, but my parents got a call a few days later telling me to keep quiet. My parents said, ‘You better not tell us to tell Rosemary to be quiet. Number one, we're not going to do it. And number two, it wouldn't matter if we did.'”

Karen appeared at her parents' place for the big reunion. By now, her parents had started Elderhaven, a board and care home on the edge of Tucson, and were living there themselves. Karen's other sister, Jeannie, who is much closer to Zerby, was running the place with her husband, Bill.

After a day or two, Rosemary went up to Elderhaven to see her long-lost sister for the first time in three decades. “She was Karen, but she wasn't my sister. I had no idea who she was. She looked like my sister. She put her arm around me and said, ‘Oh, my little sister!' I was like, ‘Please, don't do that!' I didn't say that but I was thinking, ‘I'm not your little sister. You have no clue
who
I am. Don't treat me like that.' I didn't say it, but it's what I thought.”

Rosemary tried to be civil—for the sake of her aging parents. They could at least pretend to be a family for a day or two. They all went down to the historic “Old Tucson” neighborhood for dinner one night. Sue Kauten tagged along. Karen wore oversized sunglasses, like she had something to hide or something to fear.

Six years later, when Ricky returned to Tucson, Rosemary finally realized all that her sister had to hide. Rodriguez never liked to talk about his childhood, but he told his aunt all about it on his second visit, spewing out the story as fast as he could. Then he said he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He didn't want to dwell on it. He wanted to move on, or at least that's what Rosemary thought.

During one of their last conversations, his aunt gently suggested that he might want to talk to a therapist about his childhood trauma. Ricky wanted none of that. “He'd talked about how depressed he was. I have a problem with depression and can see it. Mine was a drop in the bucket compared to him. His was so deep and full of pain.”

Rosemary started crying.

“When I talked to him about going to a therapist, he said, ‘I can't. There's too much. I can't tell everything. I will die if I try to say everything that is in me. It will overflow. I won't be able to handle it. They won't be able to handle it. Everything in me will be gone.'”

SCOTTSDALE, ARIZONA
January 2, 2005 – Apartment of Alisia Arvizu

Ricky Rodriguez.

RICKY RODRIGUEZ WAS
leading a double life. Aunt Rosemary was getting the real story, but Mark and Denise Flynn had no idea what this seemingly well-adjusted guy had gone through growing up in The Family or that he was about to embark on a murderous rampage. Neither did Alisia Arvizu, but she did get a disturbing glimpse of a young man about to emotionally implode.

Alisia was one of Denise Flynn's old friends. She needed some temporary work, so Mark hired her on at Flynn's Electric as a simple laborer. “Ricky had already started,” Alisia said. “Right away, he started teaching me things, like electrical wiring. He was always trying to make the job easier for me. Taking things and doing it himself.”
¹

Ricky was quiet at first, but it didn't take long for him to start flirting with Alisia. She flirted back, but didn't think anything would come of it. After all, she was fifty-one years old, and he was this strong, good-looking guy in his twenties.

Alisia would pick him up and take him to various job sites. “He was a moody person. One day I picked him up and noticed he was angry. He'd get in the truck and wouldn't say anything. The silence was too much, and then he'd snap out of it. We'd talk about relationships. I asked him if he had kids, and he said he didn't want kids. He would say things about his wife—that he was mad at her or something. One time I asked him if he wanted to meet anyone new.”

Alisia was thinking about some of her younger friends, not herself, but Ricky didn't seem interested. She stopped working as a day laborer in November and thought that was the last she'd see of Ricky Rodriguez.

“Then one Sunday, out of the blue, he called me and said he wanted to see me,” Alisia recalled. “At first I didn't recognize his voice. I said, ‘Sure, it would be nice to see you.' Within an hour, he was here.”

Ricky had told Denise that he would pick up a few things for her at the Ikea store near Scottsdale. Alisia offered to go over there with him. “He seemed really happy,” Alisia said. “He talked a lot about his martial arts and about having this gun. I asked if he expected someone to jump him, or what. He said he'd never use it on anyone—only in self-defense. We walked around at Ikea. We talked about fixing up his apartment. He liked the colors at Denise's house. He almost took this red rug. He picked it up and then said, ‘No, I guess I don't need it.'”

They went for a bite to eat at a sports bar—beer and chicken wings. Ricky started flirting with her. “He seemed really young,” she said. “At one point, he reached over to take my hand just as I happened to take it away. Later on, we held hands.”

When they were back in the car, Alisia asked Ricky if he'd seen his mother over the Christmas holidays.

“Hell, no!”

It was a natural question. Alisia was exactly the same age as Karen Zerby.

“What do you mean?”

“I hate my mother,” Ricky said. “My mother and dad, too. I hate them. All they are about is their religion. Have you ever heard of The Family, the Children of God?'

“No,” Alisia replied.

“They use kids to impress people—to make points.”

Alisia didn't really get what Ricky was trying to say, but she could see that he was suddenly burning with anger.

“Forget it,” he said. “Fuck my mother!”

Ricky started cussing out his mother, slamming his fist on the steering wheel so hard that he almost lost control of his car.

“Ricky,” Alisia said. “Be careful. Feeling so much hate isn't good for you.”

“I'm going to hate her all my life,” he said.

Alisia decided it was time to change the subject. She was taking care of a friend's cat, so they went over to her friend's place to check on the pet. Suddenly, Ricky was back in a good mood.

“We just drove around. I was listening to a country station. He liked the music. We were laughing, talking about Mark and Denise. He was talking about how much he liked them. He asked me if I wanted to go see a movie, but we wound up buying a six pack of Heineken and going back to my apartment.”

It was a bit chilly that January afternoon—at least for Arizona. Alisia lit the fireplace in her apartment.

Here's how she remembers the conversation:

“Alisia,” Ricky said. “We should make love.”

“Ricky! I'm probably your mother's age. Why would you want to do that?”

“I've been with older women—ever since I was twelve.”

“Twelve!” Alisia said, laughing. “You're a little pervert!”

“No, really Alisia,” Ricky said. “I'm used to older women.”

“Ricky. I have a son older than you.”

“Come on. It's been a long time.”

Ricky took Alisia by the hand and led her over to a blanket by the fireplace. At first, Ricky had a nice touch. Very smooth. They talked some more. Ricky told her the hearth reminded him of a fireplace at a place where he and his sister had lived in Russia.

“Wow,” Alisia said. “You've been to so many places.”

“It was nothing,” he replied. “I wasn't trying to impress you or anything. It was just cold there.”

As soon as Ricky and Alisia started to have intercourse, the entire mood changed. Up to then, he had been very gentle, very smooth. Not anymore. “He was doing it really hard,” Alisia recalled. “He looked really angry. Had his eyes open with this strange look. It was like he was thinking of someone else. When he was done, he just sat there. It was like he was in a daze.”

“I'm sorry,” Ricky said.

“Why were you so rough?”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”

Ricky laid his head on Alisia's breast.

“It felt like he was a little boy,” Alisia told me. “I just held him, talking about how we have to find peace within ourselves. He said he wished he could have that. I said you have to forgive and forget. He said. ‘I can't do that. I can't forgive anymore.'”

“What is it? What bothers you?” Alisia asked.

“Alisia,” Ricky said. “There is so much…I can't even begin to tell you.”

Then Ricky started talking about suicide.

“Don't say that,” Alisia said. “That's a coward's way of going out of the world….”

“That depends,” Ricky replied.

They talked some more. It was getting late. Alisia tried to get Ricky to spend the night. It was a long drive back to Tucson.

“You can stay if you want.”

“No. I gotta get going. I can drive.”

Ricky kissed Alisia good-bye and walked out the door.

“I felt really bad for him,” Alisia said. “To see him walk away with his head down. It was so sad.”