Christian Longo Movie 3: True Story - Prelude to a Murder Chapter 3
Christian Longo moved his little family into a nice neighborhood
Chapter 3: Finally at long last, Mary Jo and Christian Longo will get some alone time She is hoping for the true story
Mary Jo's family were all there. They had been there for the entire proceeding. They had done their detective work and were providing evidence and damning testimony concerning his past. They were relentless.
The coroner and the divers were talking too. The divers were talking about how they had recovered the bodies of dead children, in their underwear, with twine tied around their ankles and pillowcases containing rocks tied to the other end. The coroner was citing how he had believed the children had met a watery death in the dark waters of Lint Slough where their daddy had dumped them off the bridge wrapped in their favorite comforter.
Chris could no longer see the smooth, gentle waves. There would be no more dancing sunlight. The waves were now cold, dark angry breakers crashing across the face of the north jetty as they met the ebbing current of Newport Bay head on, dangerous rip currents and pounding surf loudly crashing into cold, gray rocks seeming to release the maelstrom from beneath in a frothy curtain of spray. What was it that lies beneath? There are dead bodies there. Perhaps the angry ocean was giving up its dead. Maybe King Neptune, God of the Deep, was restless. Or perhaps it was God almighty beckoning.
What will King Neptune, the Master of the Raging Main, think of how Chris has defiled his Domain?
Perhaps the time was drawing near, that the angry Gods were about to claim another. Chris was getting scared. All of his talents and abilities that he had been nurturing all his life were now failing him. Chris was becoming aware of a sadness descending all around him. It seemed he could no longer flick it off like a light switch. He felt trapped. Indeed he was.
He would pull himself together, however. He would deal with these strange new feelings and forge ahead just like he'd always done before. His days of testimony were coming to a close and he had plenty more to say. That would be the crucial turning point.
The past few months had been a long go for Fargo. It had been a long trial, along with the months leading up to it. Chris had managed to keep himself plenty busy in the Newport jailhouse but, even so – he also had plenty of time to reflect and to dream about what once was and what could have been.
He recalled the first night they brought him into his new abode. He had sat in his cell and whistled Dixie all night long. He had watched all of the seasons of the year change from behind bars since then - that is what little he could see of them. He recalled fashioning a contraption out of common utensils to chip away at the sandblasted glass in his barred cell window just so he could get a peak at the sun drenched ocean waves just beyond. He recalled how he had vowed to feel the cool caress of those waters once again even if he had to go right through his cell window to do it.
There was something else he recalled… his life. For the first time, he found that he now had the time to think about his own past. He was full of self confidence when he had first arrived, truly believing that the powers that be would realize the err of their ways and cut him free or he would make a great escape like Ted Bundy had done. It was some time soon after his first escape attempt that the memories came filtering back. Perhaps the permanence of this new life was finally sinking in or maybe it was the release of all the responsibilities he had carried on his shoulders for so many years.
Before, it seemed like he never had the time to reflect back on his life – he was always too busy forging ahead. He lived for the day with little time for reflection on what was done or what lie ahead. But all that had changed. Now he had the time – lots of it. He was discovering that he did have memories when he would concentrate on them. They were not as hazy as before. But his memories came back in chunks – as if he were watching episodes of a movie. He would find that the movie was not all that easy to understand either. The plot seemed kind of twisted. Other times it seemed unsure whether he was recalling something real or just a dream.
And there was something else. If his memories were like a movie, it was his movie and he was the director and he could craft his movie as he saw fit. He found this easy to do as he had been doing it for a long time. In another life he could have been a movie director. Maybe he still could?
If Only Chris Could Be The Director: The Story of his life would be the Greatest Of All Time!
Chris had control over his memories. It was important to have control, unlike his recurring nightmare. He had no control over that. He didn’t know if it was the dark and scary place, the fear of the unknown or simply the absence of control that scared him so. He had begun to wonder if perhaps that might be part of that deep dark fear that had gnawed at his guts for as long as he could remember. Whatever it was – as long as he was in control, he could keep it at bay.
Indeed he was surprised at the vastness of that which was his history. He had lived a full and unusual life, considering. The fact that his life played out like an exciting movie was just that – a fact; for he knew that there indeed was someone out there writing a book about his life. He was an important man, no doubt about it!
Then again he knew that whoever it was would have a hard time capturing what was in his head. His memories were his – not whoever’s. If it was going to be done right, he might have to write his own friggin’ book. For instance how could whoever know about his first fight in grade school. He had handled that with finesse, avoiding extreme violence because he was a peaceful person, even now. How could he know about his road trips with his step dad? Chris would be the navigator. He read the maps and told dad all the places to go. He was in charge even way back then. Not only was he in control but he realized he had been an adventurous kid. Those trips had instilled that sense of adventure in him that would stay with him from then on.
How could the writer know about the many hours devoted to the Jehovah’s Witness Field Ministry when he was so young, how he strived to be the best. He had worked hard at honing his conversational skills going door to door and proselytizing. Spreading the word of the Kingdom prepared him for the “parts” he would be doing in the theocratic ministry school.
Speaking in front of the masses requires special talents
Before he was even twelve he was speaking in front of seventeen hundred people in the circuit assembly. That had pretty much confirmed his special power. He had known for some time, even as a small boy that he had special power over regular people. This was a kind of enlightenment few could ever understand. Chris knew he had a special relationship with the almighty Jehovah himself. No writer on earth could ever understand the kind of feeling that comes with that. This particular “scene” he enjoyed replaying over and over.
Then there was Mary Jo. Not even he could describe his feelings when he first laid eyes on her at the Kingdom Hall. He was only sixteen but he knew even then that he would have her. It would be his destiny. She was the most genuine, the most warm-hearted, the most loving, and the most truly devoted person ever known. These things he knew then. And he knew how he would have her no matter how long it took. It didn’t matter that she was seven years older. It didn’t matter that he was not allowed to date. How could anyone know what it was like to devote two years toward something he already knew was destined to happen, then to make it happen just one day after turning eighteen. Indeed he was out from under his parents’ roof and their hold exactly right then. Mary Jo was his first. How could any writer understand what it’s like to be in control of one’s own destiny?
Jehovah's Witness had become the life of Christian Longo
Young Christian Longo found himself with a new Dad at a very young age. And with that, he entered into the family of the Jehovah's Witnesses. Here he learned many things. He learned that he excelled at some things that very few young people could do. Speaking to the masses, speaking to the families on their doorsteps; it took a lot of something - and Christian discovered he had a lot of that something!
There were so many memories. Indeed, how could anyone at all understand what it is like to hold the power of life over death as ordained by Jehovah? Surely few could even begin to understand the special knowledge and power to which he was entitled or the tremendous responsibility that comes with that. That was the other thing he recalled, the most powerful scene in his collection of memories, the scene that no one else would ever see and the scene that he had the most trouble with.
Act one begins on Saturday, December fifteenth, 2001. It is late afternoon. Chris and Mary Jo are in their condo at “The Landing,” on the shores of Newport Bay. All the kids are there along with good friends Denise and Macon Thompson and their kids. The four are sharing a glass of wine. The kids are enjoying snacks and chips. The Macons have come over to baby-sit so Chris and Mary Jo can go out on their first date in a long time. It is a time of good cheer for all and Christmas is just around the bend.
They are making light conversation. Chris is chatting with Macon about their new business venture they are about to embark on. They are about to become partners in a computer company. Chris has friends in high places. He will be able to line up venture capitalists to finance their DSL venture. The small talk is soon concluded and it becomes time for them to head out on their date.
Answer this one as concerns Christian Longo only
What was Christian Longo's Jehovah's Witness training preparing him for?
Their first stop was at Starbuck’s. Chris would make his appearance at his place of work then make his wine and cheese selection at Freddie’s. They next stopped off at Safeway’s and J. C. Thriftway’s to pick up a few more things. From there it was off across the bridge to the Rogue Brewery, where they would sit down for a good long talk for the first time in a long, tumultuous year.
Chris sipped on his wine while Mary Jo worked on her Caesar Salad and Diet Coke. Not that she needed diet because she was trim as can be. But she knew that being trim was pleasing to her man and she intended to stay that way.
*** Continue to follow the journey As the story proceeds to gain some real traction!