Izzy’s Egg

Izzy knew all the pitfalls of moving through the swamps. She knew you never stepped where the swamp grass wasn’t growing, and if something had eyes, it would definitely bite you, and quite probably eat you.  

She kept a light step and a wary eye as she hurried toward home where Mamu was waiting. Izzy was six and didn’t live so long by being ignorant, as her Mamu called it. She could smell peat burning, and looked forward to breakfast.

Mamu was on the porch, beating the dried up swamp mud out of the hut’s rugs. Izzy ran the last few yards to the porch and smiled broadly at the large woman who’d raised her. The woman smiled back, gray hair pulled tight against the nape of her neck; large hands calloused from work, discolored from dirt and the dyes she worked with for her baskets. She popped a rug hard, her forearms strong and sure, and then tossed it over the porch rail.

“What have you found today my little one, my Izzy?”  She asked, reaching for the basket the small child carried. Izzy pulled back a little, flashing a grin that wasn’t quite all there, one front tooth missing, the other loose and leaning precariously.

“Wait Mamu!” she said breathlessly “I found something new!”

Mamu laughed, “Child, there hasn’t been anything new found on this ball of mud for a hundred years.” She guided Izzy into the hut, and with a gentle hand towards the small rickety table. Izzy put the basket down, hopped up in a chair and very carefully pulled back the shredded swamp grass.

“Here, Mamu. Here are our eggs for breakfast,” Izzy carefully laid out five fist sized leathery spheres. They were quandat eggs, but when gathered at the right time, were pretty good eating. Mamu squeezed one, it was still very pliable. Good.

Izzy continued to unpack and display that morning’s treasures. A few quandat claws, found near the nest where she got the eggs, some snail shells for a necklace she had a mind to string later, and a few small rounded stones, nothing special, except you didn’t see stones very often on this gods-forsaken planet.

Suddenly Izzy looked at her Mamu, her eyes big and solemn. “Okay, Mamu. Here it is. Please be very careful with it.” Mamu just nodded her head, trying not to laugh at her grand daughter. But when she saw what Izzy pulled from the bottom of her basket, her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh Lord, Izzy.” was all she could manage for a moment. Her eyes were locked on the large sphere the child held with both hands. It was an iridescent purple in color, with hints and glimmers of green and gold.

While the reptile shells were leathery, this egg was much harder, Mamu knew, without even touching it. She’d read about them all her life.

“Oh Izzy,” she said, “let me have it for just a moment.”  The little girl handed it to her, and she held the thing in her hands. It was heavy and warm, and for some reason she could not explain, she knew it contained life.

“Get me the green basket from by the fireplace, please.” Mamu directed.

Izzy did as she was told, a look of relief on her little face. She brought the bowl shaped basket to the table, and without being told, she grabbed handfuls of the shredded swamp grass to cushion the egg.

“What is it Mamu?” she whispered, her big blue eyes intense in her small dirt smudged face.

“Salvation,” Mamu whispered back.

“Oh good, I was afraid we’d have to eat him,” Izzy murmured.

While Mamu read and researched until her eyes were red and puffy, Izzy stayed by the fireplace and watched the egg. She swore sometimes she could feel it listening to her, so she would sing to it, and talk to it, telling it stories. She taught it all about the planet that they lived on, just like Mamu had taught her.

“You have to be careful everywhere you go,” she recited, “because the swamp is very dangerous.” She explained about the different types of amphibians and lizards, large and small, that were all carnivores and just laid around waiting for ignorant people to blunder by. She told it that you never ever moved around at night, you just stayed inside and warm and everything would be okay.

What Izzy couldn’t explain was how this whole planet had become a prime example of terra-forming gone wrong. Not enough initial research had been done to account for all of the planet’s water resources, so after about twenty years of a nearly earth-like atmosphere, geography, and topography; the planet had begun to turn into one giant bog.

Mamu’s own great-grandmother had been a biotech on the terra-form team. Mamu had texts and journals and mysterious things that she guarded very carefully. She could read most of what was written, though a lot of it she didn’t understand.

Mamu knew, from years of reading, and of course oral stories told, that the first decade after the terra-form collapse had been hell. Only about 30% of the planet’s pioneer population had opted to jump aboard a rescue ship and spend the next fifty years traveling to another, hopefully better, habitable planet. It was a crap shoot, and many chose to stay. 

The wildlife that had been indigenous to the planet was predatory, and adapted well to the soft muck that was now this planet’s surface. The remaining populace banded together, and built villages with walls. The muck and mud claimed the walls, making any attempt at rebuilding futile. The biotech teams, working out of a rapidly deteriorating base dome, attempted to manufacture natural enemies to the planets native wildlife, and merely succeeded in creating cross bred mutant species that were worse than either ‘parent’.

Hovercrafts and other equipment had been effectively ruined by moisture and mildew spores. Land equipment was useless; it would trundle along haphazardly, then mire and sink rapidly in the bogs. Any sort of technology was becoming obsolete.

Before the earth swallowed up the biotech dome, there had been rumor of some genetically engineered solution, waiting to be birthed, or hatched. It would not only hunt and kill predators; it would be useful for keeping the populace linked to one another, communication between villages. A self supporting life form genetically engineered to be intelligent enough to work with mankind.

It never came to fruition. The dome was consumed by the swamp, and not much was saved from it. Mamu had the bulk of what was. In those copious notes and journals were descriptions of that last ditch effort… salvation for a mired down ball of muck.

Dragons.

“A near mature egg weighing 8 kilos, purple in color with shows of gold and green,” Mamu read. “Gestation period assumed to be 38 weeks, heat and moisture ideal for incubation period, humidity recommended at 85%,  temperatures must be kept in the…”

Mamu didn’t know spit about temperature or humidity. Mamu knew the peat fire was warm, and there was plenty of water to keep the soft shredded grass moist, and indeed they had to be careful the basket didn’t get too hot. Mamu sensed that whatever was in that egg, it was alive and it was forming a bond with her Izzy. She only wished she knew what that meant.

Sometimes Mamu thought the only two resources on this planet were mud and grass. Their diets were limited to fish, eggs, snails, amphibians, and tubers. Outside of the nearest village there was a large rice paddy, but growing and harvesting it was a dangerous process.

Between the blood suckers, which were some mutant form of leech that moved much faster and in groups; and the large carnivorous lizards; the quandat, and the even larger more aptly named getters, it was a very dangerous process for such a meager food source, yet rice was prized because it was so different than the native fare.

Mamu traded for their rice, some of the finely made baskets that were part of her livelihood. She could weave a basket so tight it would hold water for a week. She also delivered new babies as a midwife for the village.

Izzy showed a knack for weaving at a young age, but she was also very good at simply finding things. Mamu used to take her along on her foraging trips, until it became obvious that Izzy not only knew better where to find eggs and snails, but she had a knack for finding unique things too. Rocks, pieces of metal, and plastic that could only be remnants of the base and its equipment, swallowed by the planet then regurgitated for Izzy to bring home.

That must be what happened with the egg, Mamu reasoned. It was swallowed up with the base and then spat out near some quandat nesting ground. Gods, how many years?

“Mamu,” Izzy said quietly, her big eyes focused on the door. “Someone’s coming.”

Four villagers stood on the porch, looking uncomfortable and slightly rattled. Mamu came out, and closed the door behind her. “Late for a visit,” She remarked casually. The villagers looked at each other; she recognized three of them as men she often traded with. The fourth she didn’t know.

“Mamu,” the eldest spoke for the rest, “This here’s Jorge from South of the village. He found something no one knows what to make of, so we thought we’d bring it out here to you.”

She nodded a greeting to the man as he stepped forward, slinging a large pouch from his shoulder and placing it on the porch. He looked up at her.

“Actually ma’am, my son found this and had it hid in a basket by the fireplace. I don’t know what it is, but the wife says it makes her uneasy.” He pulled the pouch open and revealed a twin to Izzy’s dragon egg. This one wasn’t quite as large.

“How old is your son?” Mamu asked the man curtly.

“Oh, he’s almost seven now,” Jorge replied.

“Well,” Mamu sighed, “You better leave that thing with me, and bring your son here tomorrow. He’ll be staying awhile.” She opened the door to the hut.  “Gentleman, you need to come in for a moment.”

All in all, fifteen eggs were found and hatched over the next five years. Izzy’s was the first to release the peacock colored, winged reptilian eating machine that cleared predators for a ten mile radius around Mamu’s hut.  The first time Grunt headed into the swamp Mamu tried to stop him, afraid he’d be eaten or lost. Izzy calmly sat down on the porch to wait. “He’ll be back, Mamu,” was all she said.

The dragon grew at an alarming rate. Izzy also taught ‘Grunt’ to hunt for them, so they didn’t have to go so far from home. As the dragon got bigger and more predictable with his appetites, Mamu felt confident letting Izzy go along.  One day the nine year old headed out walking by the dragon’s side, and returned astride its back.

Mamu found herself in the unenviable position of midwife to dragon hatchlings, and temporary nanny to the little ones that had possession of the eggs. Mamu’s experience was; about three months after hatching the dragons and children could be returned to their homes.

Each egg that had been found it seemed, had been found by or in the company of a young child. Each child in turn formed a strong bond with the egg, and was present when the egg hatched, as Izzy was with Grunt. There was a brief moment of eye contact between hatchling and child, and no more.

A bond was formed, and communication on some level of telepathy began. As the dragon matured, the communication became more sophisticated. Izzy explained it to Mamu as pictures at first, but then words and thoughts as her dragon got older.

Izzy and Grunt maintained a close watch on all the hatchlings and children that passed through Mamu’s mud hut.

****

The rice paddies flourished. Mamu broke into ancient sealed containers her great-grandmother had secreted from the base, and found the cool climate conducive to certain greens such as cabbage and lettuce.

One afternoon some of the villagers approached Mamu with an idea for keeping the area drier. They called it a levy system, an engineering project. A few minutes into the conversation, Mamu realized they weren’t discussing this with her at all; they were discussing it with 11 year old Izzy and her dragon.

Izzy and Grunt landed in the clearing by the hut. The place really hadn’t changed much over the years, Izzy thought, except for the gardens. Mamu had excelled in finding things that would grow; not just food, but bamboo, and more colorful things as well. The gray-green sameness of the swamp that haunted her childhood was now banished.

Grunt butted Izzy in the back with his nose. ‘Go on.’

She patted him on the neck, looking into the golden eyes framed by rainbows. “Gods, you are such a show off,” she teased.

Mamu came out of the hut with leggings and a jacket on, her long gray hair plaited down her back. “’Bout time.” She muttered. Izzy could see she was nervous.

“You sit in front of me, Mamu. I don’t need you hijacking my dragon.”

“Fat chance of that,” She grumbled, casting a wary eye on Grunt as they approached. He returned the gaze, and Izzy swore he was grinning at the old woman.

Mamu scrambled up onto Grunt’s broad back a bit indignantly, Izzy got up behind her and fastened all the straps around them.

“Grunt’s been looking forward to this,” Izzy said.

“I’ll bet!” Mamu replied, “Probably can’t wait to drop me in the mud.”

Izzy whistled suddenly and Grunt began the short run that precipitated take off. His wings had matured when he was 3, before that point he’d been strictly a land roving dragon.

With 8 years of flying experience now, the two were quite comfortable with each other.

Mamu, however, just never was keen on the idea. Under her quandat gloves her knuckles were white.

They flew over the village first, and Mamu marveled at just how apparent the growth was form up above. They went out over the levies, so Mamu could see the almost finished project. Instead of swamp, the levies now held enough water back that the area was dry inside the walls. As the land had dried out, and the hunters became the hunted, it became much easier to survive on this planet.

Mamu reached out and patted the dragon on the neck “Grunt,” she snorted “We should have named you Sal.”

‘Indeed,’ Grunt answered the old woman.

“Lacerta”

 “Professor Chandler, over here I think I found it.”

     Three men ran towards the older woman as she stooped down and carefully brushed off the loose soil from around the oval egg.  She extracted it from the red, sandy soil then slowly stood up, and smiled with a satisfied look across her darkly tanned face.

     “See,” she held up the enormous egg with the utmost care. It was four times the size of an Ostrich egg and bright shimmering blue, “I told you it was here.”

     “Right,” James sneered, “you knew that for a fact.”

     “Yes I did. I told you I had a dream it was here.”

     “Okay, okay you two let it go, at least we have it.” The older man in the group took his hat off his head and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Let’s just get this back to the lab in one piece, shall we.” The professor tried to make a call on his cell. He waved it around in the air above his head; he even climbed up on the hood of one of the Jeeps. ”Damn! No reception! I should have grabbed the satellite phone instead of this one. Stupid mistake on my part” He put the phone back into one of his many pockets,   “Lepta you have the honor of carrying that on your lap. We don’t have a container large enough to hold it, and this bumpy road will crack it to pieces. It looks like its petrified, but I’d rather have it back in one piece.”

     “No problem Professor” she said moving carefully with it in her arms toward the jeep.

     “Ray, your the lead driver, you know this terrain better than anyone.” The Professor was already collecting the expensive excavating equipment He pointed to a couple of containers, “James, grab those. The equipment they will come back with us.”

     “What if we need to come back out in a day or two?”

     “Then we’ll bring it back I don’t want anything to get damaged in a freak sand storm. Besides we’re not dismantling the tents.”

     Lepta carefully pulled herself up into the front seat of the jeep, Ray jumped in beside her. There was a second jeep that James and the Professor were quickly loading up.

     “You ready?” Ray looked at her smiling.

     “Sure, there’s no way this baby is going to get hurt while I’m holding him.”

     “Him?”  Ray started the engine, shifted gears then moved carefully over the deep ruts leading out of the dig site. “How can you be sure there is even an embryo in that egg?”

     “I had a dream.”

     “And what did that dream tell you, Lepta?” He laughed. “We can divide this up for breakfast, fried, scrambled, and maybe poached. I like poached eggs on toast.”

     She smiled at the egg, gently caressing the blue shell littered with red flakes.” This is no ordinary egg. Inside is an evolutionary wonder, a missing link between man and reptilian.”

     “How did it end up way out here in the desert of Nevada?”

     “A lot of things disappear in the desert; it is the perfect place to hide an old species.”

     James slowed down as he maneuvered over a ruff patch of rocks and cracks in the dry soil. He glanced at Lepta; she was staring at the egg in a strange way. “What's wrong? Is it cracked?”
     “No. These red flecks seem to have a pattern.”
 

     “That’s impossible.”

     “No really, look they almost look like a constellation.”

     “Ok, I give.” James asked with honest interest,   “Which one?”

     Lepta moved the egg carefully over n her lap, “I can’t be sure until I compare my star charts, but it looks a lot like Lacerta.”

     “The lizard, huh, interesting, maybe this thing was pulled out of a black hole. You should name it Hevelius.” James raised an eyebrow as he looked in her direction.

     “Perfect.” She muttered, only half listening to Ray. “I can’t wait to see inside.”

     Ray slowed the jeep down to a crawl as he tried to go around larger stones and dirt piles. It looked as though an earthquake had opened and heaved up the earth along the road.

     “I don’t remember this being here when we drove in two days ago.” Ray said.

     Lepta, looked up startled she said, ‘Damn, Ray did you see that?”

     “I’m trying to get around this torn up road, what are you talking about?”

     “The egg; it moved.”

     “Come on that thing is petrified.”

     “No really, stop the car!” She yelled agitated.

     “What! Why?”

     “Ray what if this is alive? Where is its mother?”

     “This is going to be great; I can’t wait to see the look on the Professor’s face when you tell him you think this thing is alive. Especially James, he thinks all this dream stuff is bunk.” Still Ray stopped, Lepta carefully got out of the car, leaving the egg on the seat. She ran back to the car behind them. 

     “The professor and James were already walking up to her door.

     “Professor I think this egg is alive.”

     “Lepta, is this from your dream?”   He wiped the sweat from his face and waited for her to answer.

     “No, the egg moved and this,” she waved her hand at the road. “Wasn’t like this when we came in? What if the parent is trying to stop up from leaving?”

    “James started to laugh, “Lepta, no one comes out here because nothing is here. No one ever saw anything that could lay an egg that big.” He sneered at her, “If there were others we would have seen egg shells.” He turned and started walking back to his car, “or foot prints, or even its dung.” He scoffed at her, “Come on we’re wasting time.”

     “What if this spot was chosen because no one is around here? What if it came from out there?” She pointed up at the darkening sky.

     “Extraterrestrials?  Oh. Please. Give me a break!”  James never believed in her before. Now with the heat and frustration and what he considered her wild imagination he had enough. “First you have us come out here on a wild goose chase because of your dreams. Now you’re saying this …egg came from outer space.”

     “Okay, that sounds crazy, but the markings on the egg are of a constellation. It could have come through from a black hole; just to reproduce. Normally no one comes out here. We only did because of my dreams.” Lepta turned to the Professor, “Come on professor, you have been studying my dreams for the past two years. Have I ever been wrong?” She nervously stumbled over her words.  “Why, why did I dream about this egg? And what tore up the road? I didn’t feel a tremor. Look down the road,” She pointed ahead of the cars,   “It’s blocked. We will have to drive off road into the cactus.  And did anyone notice, we didn’t hear one coyote or mountain lion, or even see any desert bighorns?” She watched each mans reaction, “Well?” 

     Professor Chandler looked nervous as he searched the area. “You know she’s right. This all feels strange. I haven’t heard a bird sing in the past two days.” He looked up at the sky and added, “We’re losing light.  Let’s get back to town.”

     “We may have a problem with that idea.   The road is all torn up, we’ll have a hard time driving at night, and it’s gonna be dark in within the hour.” Ray watched the darkness creeping up on them.  “We may have to stay put until sunrise, or we’ll end up damaging the tires and it’ll take hours to walk out of here”

     “We need to put this back first.” Lepta said.

     “Put it back are you crazy, this is a find for the text books.” The Professor answered angrily.

     “We’re standing here arguing and the suns setting fast, I say we try to drive a little further up the road and see if the way is clear.” James looked at them for a second then headed back to his jeep.

     Ray shrugged and went back to his car. Lepta followed and carefully moved the egg onto her lap again. The jeep roared to life and they started to inch around the rocks and cactus.

     “Ahhh shit!” Ray said.

     ”What’s wrong?’ Lepta asked as she held onto the egg.

     “Turn and look behind us at the Professor and James.”

     Lepta turned and watched as the car behind them rose up.  The earth pushed upward underneath their Jeep. Then the ground opened up and their car disappeared into a chasm.

     “We have to stop and help them.” Lepta yelled.

     “Look again! The ground just closed in around them; we need to get out of here so we can get help.”

     Lepta had turned and faced forward, when she saw a lizard like creature, with shimmering green and blue scales crawl out of a hole in front of their jeep. Ray slammed on the brakes. “Shit, Shit.”

     The egg on Lepta’s lap moved again, this time a small crack appeared then a tiny hole. “It’s hatching Ray.” she whispered.

     “Put it on the ground, outside the car, very carefully, maybe that thing will leave us alone.”

     Lepta opened the door, slid out of her seat and set the egg on the ground. The massive creature was watching her every move. Ray was frozen in the driver’s seat; as the creature looked from Ray to Lepta. Its tongue slithered out of its mouth and touched the bumper of the jeep. Lepta quickly got back into the car. “Ray, Ray try backing up slowly.”

     “Stupid bitch, backup where? There’s a hole behind us.”

     “Then move off to the left, let’s just get the hell out of here.” She replied angrily.

     “That thing is going to eat us.” Ray sniveled.

     “No I don’t think that‘s its plan.”

     “Plan, what the hell you are talking about?”

     “Young are hungry when they’re born.  I think if we don’t get out of here we are going to be eaten by its offspring.” she spoke slowly and evenly, “ This thing has been coming out here for a while, that’s why there’s no wildlife.” Clutching the, oh shit handle she said. “I am hoping people aren’t on its menu.”

    They both watched at the large creature moved around the jeep.

     “I saw a movie where a monster was walking around a car and the idiots rolled up their windows, like that would stop them from being eaten.” Lepta laughed nervously. “I hope it works.”  She said as he quickly rolled up her window.

     “Did it work in the movie?” Ray asked as he rolled up his window.

     “No, they still got killed.” She laughed uneasily. 

     Ray closed his eyes, and breathed heavily. 

    The creature moved over to Lepta’s side of the car and checked out its egg; Ray slowly started to move the car forward. The Jeep nearly tipped over as they climbed over the non distinguishable road. Lepta could see the miniature creature emerging from the egg.  Its parent stood and hovered over it nearly the size of a two story apartment building; waiting. When it’s young was fully hatched the parent consumed the shell.

     “Well that makes since why we haven’t seen any of those empty shells” Lepta commented. “It probably cleans up the droppings too.

      “It doesn’t seem to mind us moving away.” Ray said relieved.

     “Of course not, if it wanted to it can catch us in a second.”

     “Thanks I really needed to hear that.” Ray muttered. “Oh, No!”

     “What?”

     “James just crawled out of the hole that swallowed his car.”

     Lepta turned around in time to see the young creature grab James by his leg shaking him until he stopped screaming then started to swallow him whole.

     “Oh, my god!” Ray stopped driving and froze. A dark spot appeared on his jeans.

     “Keep driving.” Lepta said quietl

     “What’s the use?”

     “My dream, I saw myself walking into town. I didn’t see that thing behind me, but I know I will be fine.” She added, “You’re with me. You’ll be fine too.”

     “Why? Did you see me in your dream?”

     “Well, not really, but we are together now, so keep driving.”

     At that moment the adult creature hit their car with its tail and flipped the car.  Ray freaked out and crawled out from the upside down car, dragging himself across the dusty ground. The adult creature grabbed him; Ray disappeared faster than James had.

      Lepta hung upside down still strapped in the seat. Quietly she watched as the last rays of sun slipped beyond the horizon. Then an area of intense darkness appeared.  Lepta knew she wasn’t imagining the black hole that opened up off to her right.  The adult creature shimmered with and iridescent light as it ushered its young towards the blackness and they both disappeared inside. The hole closed up as quickly as it appeared.

      Lepta lost consciousness as she released her seat belt and crumpled onto the roof of the over turned car. It was still dark when she awoke. It was nearly noon when she walked into town with the professor. They both tried to explain what had happened out in that desert. But the police and the doctors all decided that they had head injuries, which caused their hallucinations.

They were told no one had ever seen a giant creature like the one they described. One that traveled through a black hole to give birth and feed its young, it seemed too preposterous to even conceive of such an idea…

     Besides, a lot of people disappear in the desert.

 Snake Eyes

The mist flowed thick and grey like a river in flood.  The vapours feathered edges lapped against the bound fastenings of the tents under the canopy of the Java rainforest. 

Soon the sun would rise and the mist, so like a shadow cast by shadows, would melt away and the expedition would emerge and continue their exploration.

Cotter, the nephew of the Earl of Cotswold, who specialised in butterflies, pecked with his long fingers at the ties of his tent.  With the determined focus of a chick emerging from its egg he plucked and chipped away at the bonds until the opening was wide enough for him to scramble out.  Scuttling to his feet, he hurried to the first line of nearby trees, his legs clenching, and a hand pressed to the crotch of his hastily fastened khaki trousers.

The native porters and camp staff watched with some amusement from their hammocks.  They were in no hurry, the white men would have to order them to revive the cooking fires, load up the heavy packs, and start walking before they felt any need to stir.

Harris, the expedition leader and graduate of the English privilege system of raising fine gentlemen, emerged from his slightly larger tent as Cotter returned to the camp.  The two came together near the stacked boxes of tinned food supplies.

“Morning Cotter,” Harris said amiably, his cold pipe clacking against his teeth.

“Good morning Harris,” Cotter responded and then blinked myopically several times.  “Nice day for it,” he added.

“Indeed.  I think it’s our lucky day old chap.” Harris, like Cotter was Oxford educated.  They strode the furthest reaches of the British Empire as if they owned it, which of course her Majesty did.

Cotter nodded. He felt sure any objections he voiced would be swept aside by the rod and staff of Harris’s arrogant assumption that even the natural world would instinctively bend to the will of an English Gentleman.  To Harris’s credit, so far the natural world had done just that.

Starting with the interminable journey by steamship from England, the cowering, wide eyed cowering attitudes of the natives whom none-the less clamoured to offer their services as porters and guides for a coins a day.  The expedition had proceeded in an orderly fashion that Harris announced was a testament to the superiority of the Empire and the British Gentlemen.

“Alright you dogs! Up and at ‘em! Kayo!! Kayo!”  Harris swaggered towards the native area of the camp, scattering the dark skinned chaps before him like birds with chattering voices and gleaming white teeth.

Harris had been told by the first mate of the ironclad steamer the Clarence, that Kayo was the native word for “Hurry up.” The porters only moved because he paid them. Kayo was the cry babies made when calling for their mothers.  The natives thought it was appropriate that Harris should cry in such a way, the Englishmen were indeed babes in the wood.

After a luxurious breakfast of tinned beef, camp bread and sweet black tea, the porters hefted their bundles and boxes aloft and fell in behind Harris and Cotter.  The expedition was lead by the a nimble footed guide, a chap with missing front teeth who called himself Lu.  To the English Lu looked like any other local.  The porters stayed away from Lu.  He was not born of any of their tribes, clans or family groups.  He was cut from an altogether different cloth, one whose fibres were dyed in dark sorcery and ancient secrets.  Whenever Lu’s yellow-eyed gaze fell upon any of the porters they would shy like a startled horse, rolling their eyes and muttering wards against evil.  Lu would just grin, poke his narrow tongue out through the gap in his teeth, and wave it at them like a serpent tasting the smell of their fear.

Under the canopy of the vast trees was a different world.  Monkeys and birds called constantly, many hurling abuse and cries of alarm at the pale sweating figures who dared to enter this unconquered empire.  The English explorers, lead by Harris (in turn closely followed by Cotter) led a casually traversing human centipede of many bare brown legs, laden with boxes, crates, trunks and baskets that followed the intrepid twosome into what for them, was unexplored jungle.

After the morning mist had burned away and the heat of the day was becoming oven-like the rain started.  First rumbling thunderclouds and a dark bruise swelling in the sky.  The clouds ruptured and the rain poured down with a noise that made conversation below a shout impossible.

Harris and Cotter endured the rain with British determination.  Initially they had used their umbrellas to shield from the worst of it, but the volume of the deluge had crushed the bamboo stays the thick foliage had torn the black material. 

It was of course the porters who noticed it first, the animals of the jungle were accustomed to rain, and it was as much a part of their daily existence as the trees and plants that surrounded them.  The rain never silenced the creatures for long; they sought shelter and called, hooted and warbled at each other without pause.  It was the silence that rose behind the rain as they trudged on through the emerald midday twilight that had them casting long looks at each other and fearfully peering into the darker shade on all sides.

The carriers were sure that these foolish pale men from across the sea would have turned back by now.  They had shown a disappointing lack of softness when it came to enduring the hardships of the jungle.  There had been great humour among the men at the beginning, a few days walking through the wilderness, with two pale, almost femininely delicate British men.  The way they had fussed over all manner of contraptions and supplies had been a great source of mirth.  Now, ten days later they continued to walk further away from the areas that their hirelings knew and into deeper, darker jungle.  The white men were seeking Sa-Eng Pok, the City of Ghosts.  Abandoned by all right thinking men in the days when the world was young, inhabited now by evil spirits and the demons who fed on human flesh.

The porters slowed further as the rain eased and the roar of the torrent became the steady drip of the secondary showers of rainwater trickling down from the high canopy.  The distance between the porters and the leaders increased until each end of the party was a dim shadow against the khaki backdrop.

Cotter stopped, swept his hat off and mopped his streaming brow.  Turning back he peered into the gloom of the winding way they had been following for the better part of a day.

“Harris… Harris!” Cotter called again, louder this time.  Harris appeared around a mammoth hardwood tree trunk.

“Yes, Cotter?” Harris stood with his hands on his hips and his countenance that of a school master.

“The porters!” Cotter waved down the empty trail. 

“Oh they will be along presently. Probably just having one of their blasted tea-breaks.”

Harris sighed and sank back again a tree root that rose thick and wide to waist height.

“I think I should go back and find them,” Cotter was a perpetual worrier. If his family hadn’t contributed so much to the cost of this adventure Harris would have never brought him along.

“If you like Cotter,” Harris closed his eyes and relaxed.  A cup of tea would be just the thing right now, or even better a nice pint of ale.

Cotter stumbled and slid on the uneven surface of tree roots and thick leaf litter until he had vanished back along the path so recently traversed.

* * * * *

Harris opened his eyes to darkness, lit only by the glow of a nearby campfire.

“What on earth?” He struggled to sit up and found his limbs securely bound.

“Cotter!? … Lu!? Blast you all! What is the meaning of this?”

“Shhh…. Shhh….” The grinning face of the guide Lu appeared in Harris’s vision.  “Kayo….Kayo…” Lu mimicked the tone of the white man’s commands and grinned again.

“Lu, untie me immediately blast it.  What do you think you are doing?!”  Lu sat back on his haunches, eyes dark and glittering, and the yellow stained whites almost golden in the flickering light of the campfire.

“Shhh…Shhh…” Lu crooned again, the hissing sound coming through the open cavity of his missing teeth honed to a soft whistle.

“This is old country Sahib Harris.  Old…old country.  The white men always going to new countries, forgetting they are old places.  We stay in one place learn everything about the old country, the forest and the stones.  Always listening, always learning.  No need to leave and go see new country eh?”  Lu grinned and his tongue darted out, long and thin.

“Untie me damn you,” Harris struggled again while Lu simply crouched and waited for his captive’s heaving to subside.

“Old country, with old gods.  You speak of your Jesus God.  Your missionaries come here and they tell us about this Jesus God.  Where is this Jesus God I ask them?  They say he is all around us.  But I can never see this Jesus God.  So I show them missionaries our god.  Our god who is real.  Our god who comes in the night and tastes the flesh of our enemies.  Our god who grants us blessings now, not in heaven-place.

“What are you blathering about Lu!?”  Harris was staring at the little native man with distilled fury.  There was going to be hell to pay when he got free.

Lu rose to his feet and grabbed Harris by his boots.  With out a word he turned the prostrate man ninety degrees, so his gaze was staring past the fire to the strange gathering that lay beyond.

The porters, simple men with simple beliefs were grovelling before a glistening green statue.  Harris stared as a trick of the wavering fire light showed the effigy was moving.

Horror flooded through his blood as he realised that the statue was a living thing.  A vast glittering scaled serpent.  Larger than any South American Anaconda, the girth of this creature would have taken two full grown men to reach around it, as thick as many of the trees that surrounded the campsite it’s scaled hide rippled and undulated with strange lumps and moving enlargements.

On the ground before the monster the porters writhed and twisted in dark parody of the creature above them.  Harris watched his throat tight with helpless terror as the scaled beast opened a vast maw that was near bursting with long yellowed teeth.  With a sudden jerking motion the snake god snatched up a squirming porter and crushed his screams and his skull with savage swallowing spasms.

Those who remained moaned and panted. Their shrieks pierced the air as they chanted and howled in an ecstasy of terror. Harris struggled and mewled against the torturous noise, so bound and impotent to resist the awful realisation of this repulsive reality playing out before him.

“Kop-a-lee! Kop-a-lee! “  Lu rose to his feet and clapped his hands.  Immediately the nearest porters scrambled over and cowered under his gaze.

“Take him,” Lu said and gestured towards the bound Harris.

The porters snatched Harris off the ground and carried him above their heads like a log towards the swaying god.

The man carrying Harris’s feet lowered them to the ground, and he was raised to a standing position scant feet away from the hideous entity that the natives worshipped as a living god.

Harris resolved not to scream.  He was an Englishmen and would meet his fate with dignity.  The long serpentine form elongated, rising higher above him till it towered ten feet or more and still a great length of it was coiled in the darkness beyond the fire’s glow.

The explorer raised his head and met the glowing golden-eyed gaze with his own unblinking eyes.  The great mouth opened and Harris’s jaw fell open in slack-jawed disbelief.

The snake god’s vast head slowly dipped forward and Harris began to scream. He screamed until his throat tore and his voice shattered and then he continued to shriek, soundless, whispering exhalations of catatonic terror. Harris’s rational mind disintegrated as he gazed into that abominations gullet.

 Gripped in the pulsing embrace of the snake’s gullet, his flesh seared to the bone by the onslaught of digestive juices, Cotter clawed against the impermeable viscera of the snake god in blind helpless agony. 

THE APRICOT TREE

“… it’s done!”

“Thank heaven, now maybe I can breathe without thinking the authorities will be on our tail.”

“For crying out loud, you’re such a pansy!”

‘I heard yelling from the neighboring house … again.  The day is a lot like any other,’ Robert thought.

***

“I’m going to wait and see how it all pans out.  Not going to get myself in a fix, just going to keep on watching.  No one knows I can see them.  I can see both of them in their house and Robert in his.  Wish they would all stop and get on and end this, so I can write another story.   They are wasting my time for sure.  Hang in there with me; we’ll wait this one out.  Time is on our side, all right with you?”

***

“All right, let’s get.  We’ll be late for our job.  Damn!  I get so tired of sweeping up after them, and dusting.  And you!  You’re no prize when it comes to working, what with you looking at them all of the time.  Come on, get a move on.”

He stumbled toward the door while trying to put a leg into his jeans.  He looked like a flamingo doing a one-legged dance.  Grunting while locking the beat up old door he took a deep breath and headed toward the steps. Being careful not to trip and get his foot hung up in a few of the missing boards on the steps, he headed toward the car.

“Hurry! The traffic is getting heavy I just know it,” May said in a very disgusted tone.

When he got into the ’39 Plymouth, he hit bottom on the floorboard.

“Crap!  I can’t stand this damned car!  I’m tired of winding up on the floorboard.   The seat, what is left of it, has only springs, this hunk of junk!  Why can’t we get another car?”  Angus asked.

“Quit your griping!  Every single day you say the same thing.  I’m tired of it!  There is nothing I can do to change things right now, so lighten up.”

“When are we going to get a car so I can drive.  It isn’t right, you driving and me sitting on the floor.  You ought to try it, it’s no fun.”

“I tried your seat, that’s why I am driving.  If you would have thought about it fast enough you would be driving and I’d be sitting on the floor.  Besides, you’re tall enough to see out the window.  I’m too short and have to look at all of the wires and stuff under the dash board, what with the glove compartment door gone.”

“Okay!  Okay!  I just wished.  That’s all I was doing … wishing.  You never wished anything before?”

“Yes! I’ve wished and right now I’m wishing you’d shut your damned mouth, it’s hard enough weaving in and out of this traffic.  Damned fools ought to know I’m driving us to work; after all, we drive the same route every day.  They see us everyday.  I wish they would just move over on the freeway and let us through.”

***

Every day when I check on those two they are repeating themselves over and over.  It’s almost as though they are re-playing the same record.  It’s comical in a way and I find I look forward to their antics.  Quite the lot, they are.  Specimens.  One of a kind.  Odd ducks.  I’ll check in with you every so often and give you the skinny on what’s happening.  Right now they are on their way to work where they have beenemployed for as long as anyone remembers.  No one knows much about them, just that they are rarely outside and yell at each other every day.”

***

Looking over the back yard fence Robert wasn’t too surprised at what he saw.  He hollered at Jackson, his neighbor, to come on over. 

Jackson put his pruning shears down on the webbed patio chair and walked across the tree-lined street. 

“What you got there Robert?” Jackson asked.

“I want you to come here and take a look.  Do things look a bit different out there?” he pointed toward the backyard of his next-door neighbor.

“I don’t see much different, things look about the same,” Jackson replied.

“See the mound over there?  Look right under the apricot tree,” Robert said.

“Still don’t see a thing Robert, you must have been out in the sun too much and it fried your brains,” Jackson laughed as he looked at Robert who had a very serious look on his face.

Robert was determined to find out what the mound was all about.  He asked Jackson to keep a look out for him as he got his folding Army spade he had bought at the Army Surplus Store down on Sixtieth and Maple streets.

“Give me a leg up Jackson.”

With hands clasped together Jackson told Robert to step up. 

Robert stepped on Jackson’s clasped hands with one foot and with a push hoisted himself over the fence. It suddenly hit him, “What if there is something in the yard I don’t know about?  I wish I wouldn’t have thought about that, now it’s the only thing that’ll be on my mind!”  Robert mumbled.

“What’d you say buddy?”

Robert shrugged his shoulders, “Ah nothing, just muttering to myself.  Didn’t know I was that loud.”

Standing near the fence, Robert scanned the yard.  Everything in the yard was dry except the mound under the frail apricot tree. 

Shrugging his shoulders Robert went to the apricot tree and with his Army spade began digging the area where the mound was.  He was startled when he felt his spade hit something.  He dug more feverishly, wanting to know what his spade had hit.  When he got a deep furrow dug around the object he got down on his knees and began digging dirt out with his hands.

“Hey there Robert!  You okay?”  Jackson asked.

“Yeah, I’m almost through with the digging and then we’ll find out what’s under the mound.  Keerist!” he yelled.

***

I’ve been watching as two scenes are playing out.  Angus and May are nearly at the place where they work.  Robert is digging in their back yard while Jackson is his look out man.  It is quite a scene I’ll tell ‘ya; two upscale neighbors wondering what their dirt poor looking neighbors are doing in their back yard.  Seems to me it ought to be the other way around.  I guess it just goes to show you one never knows about people and what they’ll do next.  It’s time now for me to let you get on with your snooping in the business of the two and of Robert and Jackson.  I’ll keep on watching and when I think you ought to be informed of what’s happening I’ll let you know.  I have to be alert to any twists and turns since I’m telling this story and must get it right.

***

“This drive is getting more hair-raising as each day passes by.”

“And this floorboard gets harder as each day passes by.”

“We’ve had this conversation a million times!”

It wasn’t long and the 1939 Plymouth pulled into the parking lot.  Today they found a parking place near the employee’s entrance and parked. 

May pointed to Angus and firmly said, “Grab our lunches.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll grab ‘em.  Why do I always get the grunt jobs?  Why don’t you carry our lunches in once in a while?  I feel stupid always carrying them in.”

Laughing out loud,  “You’re fine, just fine.  Come on, get a move on.”

They entered through the heavy door and heard it creak closed like they did everyday.  Opening another heavy door the two began the descent to the area where they worked.   The stuffy smell had a stench like something dead, but they didn’t notice, they were used to it.

Putting on their white coats and face masks, they began their tedious job.

With small brushes they picked up what looked like a large rock and began carefully brushing away the centuries old sand. 

“We’re making progress, doesn’t it make you happy?”

“Sure, sure I’m laughing, can’t you hear me?”

“Oh my god, hush, come around the table."

Angus walked around and stood beside May.  She acknowledged his presence and continued brushing the ages old sand. Soon they saw a slight tinge of blue in places.  Picking up the object, they looked at one another and continued brushing it. 

The pile of sand on the table was getting larger and the blue began to blend in with what looked like pinks.  This was a most awesome piece of work, one they had never seen.

“Hand me the chisel, will you.”  Silently the chisel passed hands.

With a slight tap the chisel made its way through the rock hard sand, giving way to more faded looking colors.  The piece was taking shape, one they couldn’t identify yet.  They wondered if it went with the piece they had at home.

“What do you think it is?”

“I think a lot of things and hope for one, but we’ll never know until I get it cleaned off.”

***

 I feel as though I’m watching a movie, but it is not so.  I’m watching everything in the here and now and in living color.  Things are happening at a much speedier pace now and I’m hoping to learn as much as you very quickly.  Let’s get on with the real-life stories.  They do say fact is stranger than fiction.

***

Robert got back to his digging.  He heard a stepping sound behind him on the dried brown dicondra and it startled him.  “Wha...?” he said in a shaky voice.

“It’s me, Jackson,” and Robert felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Jackson!  You scared me half to death!”

“It’s all right partner, it’s just me come here to help you out.”

“We have to be quiet, the neighbors on the other side are home and in their backyard. Just our luck!”

Deciding they had better get back over the fence, they quietly backed away from the hole, but two things happened then:  the neighbors went back inside their house and the May and Angus were in their house yelling again, which meant they were home from work. 

Robert and Jackson looked at each other.

From inside the house May could be heard, “Angus, I think we are going to be rich!  Very rich!  We found the rest of it, didn’t we?  We work well together, I’m glad we met each other all those years ago.  Come on; let’s go bury it next to the other until we know what we’re going to do.  We can’t have anyone finding it.”

From the side of the tattered house, Jackson and Robert watched and listened as the two came out of the house carrying a bundle with them.  They couldn’t tell what it was; it was wrapped in a gunnysack. 

They nudged each other and pointed to the wrapped object.  Whispering, Robert said, “What do you think they have in their hands Jackson?”

“Shhh Robert, keep it down, let’s watch.”

“May!  Here, over here, that’s where we put the first one.  Someone has been digging around.  I know because I put a quartz rock at exactly noon and it’s gone.”

Robert patted the pocket of his jeans.  He looked at Jackson and said, “I’ve got the damned rock in my pants pocket!”

“It’s too late now to worry about the rock, just keep quiet and watch.”

Once again Angus motioned to May.  She walked over and saw that the mound had been tampered with.  “What the hell?  Isn’t anything sacred anymore?  Our own backyard and still they hound us!”

“May, be quiet as a church mouse.”

Looking around very slowly, Angus shined the light on the side of the house.  He moved the beam down the side of the house, but couldn’t see a thing for all of the pieces of wood, wire, and old tires standing askew. 

When he ran the light on the ground he saw a pair of shoes.  “Who’s there?” 

Angus began to walk in the direction of the shoes.  He raised the light up and shined it into the faces of his neighbors.  “What’re you doing in our back yard?  You don’t know us any other time, what are you doing here?”

“We… we…,” Jackson stuttered, “we climbed over the fence, we wanted to see what you had under the apricot tree.  We got the spade and came to find out.”

“Are you satisfied?  Did you find what you thought you would?”

“Well, yes, we found a piece of art we think.  What is it?”

Angus said, “May, come here, look what I found.”

 “What are you doing in our back yard?”

May looked at Angus and asked, “What’ll we do with’em Angus?  You have the good ideas around here.”

Angus laughed, “I think we ought to let them see what we have here and then they’ll have to keep quiet. If they say anything they can be charged with felony theft, not to mention trespassing.”

May ordered everyone to follow her across the yard.  When they got near the apricot tree, she showed them what they had dug and re-buried and what she and Angus had wrapped in the gunnysack.  Jackson and Robert were shocked, the pieces matched.  Before them was the most beautifully crafted burial artifact they had ever seen.  It was a bird, yet it almost looked like it belonged in another world.  The colors, although faded and scratched in a few places, were covered with a pearl-like glow.

All four of the neighbors sat down on the dried dicondra and looked at the beautiful artifact.  When they scratched a little of the surface, they saw what looked like solid gold.  They decided to divide the money they would make in half.  They shook hands and said goodnight.

Angus and May pretended to bury both pieces in a hole they had dug nearby.  Instead, they took the pieces and buried them beneath the pile of old tires on the side of the house. “We’ll get out in the morning and take it to the dealer. Come on let’s go eat dinner Angus.” 

***

 I imagine that night they were all dreaming about their take.  The gold must weigh at least twelve to fifteen pounds, I’ll find out when I get it melted down and sell it.  Angus and May made my job easy, maybe I’ll send them a few gold nuggets, I don’t know yet.”

***

END

 Intrusions

Any intrusion during the night gets attention. When there is a pattern to strange events, everyone involved gets a little freaked out, even State Troopers. The first time was about a month after Frank and Tookie moved to the country, a peaceful and isolated spot. It sure was quiet. The dogs loved the space, the woods and streams, little critters to chase in the fields. In fact, all of them were pretty shocked when the noise started. It was just too peaceful for that kind of noise at 3am.

The dogs woke Frank and Tookie. All three dogs crowded together at the top of the stairs, barking like fury. Someone was on the front porch. A shadow cut across the glass in the door, but the curtain kept them from seeing anything except the outline of a form. Within seconds, knocking started and within a few more seconds, knocking changed to pounding.  The barking and the pounding contained similar fury.

Frank and Tookie froze, at first. Then Frank grabbed the billy club and started down the stairs with the club raised. They looked at each other as if to say, “This simply cannot be happening.” The pounding increased and the shadow loomed large against the door. They tried to look out the window to see anything that would help explain what was happening—a car broken down in front of the house, someone bleeding or delivering a baby, a lost kid—but nothing was in sight.

“Call 911 and get away from the windows,” Frank said to his wife. He stood by the door with the club.

“Hello, emergency dispatch service, how can I help you?”

“Please, we need help. Someone is pounding on our door and we have no idea who or why.”

“When did this start, ma’am?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“And you’re sure it’s not someone you know?”

The pounding was getting louder and louder, pounding on the glass, pounding on the door, but no one was calling out, no one was asking for help. The shadow against the curtain looked the size of a bear…big, wide, huge head, arms swinging.

“No. We don’t know anyone anyway. We’re new here.”

“I see you’re in Kingsworthy Township. I’ll have to transfer you to the State Police dispatcher. The township has no local police coverage at night on the weekend. Hold on please. Hello, this is emergency dispatch in Kingsworthy Township. I’m transferring this caller to you. Someone is knocking on the door and they aren’t expecting anyone. Ma’am, don’t hang up. I’m transferring your call.”

“Hello, Ma’am. This is State Police dispatch #46782. How can I help? My information tells me you’re at Hochenburg Road, right?”

“Yes, please hurry. This is so frightening. It’s getting worse by the minute.”

“Yes, I hear the noise. Are they your dogs? Is anyone there with you besides the dogs?”

“My husband is here. Please—send someone.”

With that, the door flew open and the intruder was inside but just for a moment. Frank raised the club to strike and the shadow froze in fear.

“No! Don’t hurt me! I’m cold! I’m looking for Frank…I’m a friend of Cory, Frank’s son. I’m cold. Frank knows me. Cory’s friend.”

Wrong Frank. This Frank had no son. He shouted at the intruder to get away, that the police were on the way.

“OK, good. It’ll be warm in the police car. I’ll wait for them,” and he backed down the porch steps onto the lawn. He was trembling and looked as scared as Frank and Tookie.

The dispatcher heard the hollering and asked for a description of the intruder. He wanted to keep them talking until the troopers got there. After what felt like an hour but was probably more like three minutes, the police car slowly came up the road, looking for the house. As soon as he saw the trooper’s car, the intruder went toward them and spread himself on the hood with his hands raised. He knew the drill.

Frank and Tookie could hear voices of the troopers as they questioned the intruder. Soon, one of the officers came to the front door. He was polite but had more questions than answers. Once they convinced him that this Frank wasn’t Cory’s father, he loosened up. He told them that the young man was drunk, got into a fight with his buddies who then threw him out of their car. He landed in a ditch and was soaked. It was a cold night and he was shivering, trying to get inside where it was warm. He had on a parka, but it was wet and provided no warmth. The fur trimmed hood made his shadow look big as an oak tree against the curtain in the door.

He also told the troopers that this friend Cory was killed in a car accident not long ago and he thought Cory’s parents lived in the house. The kid had missed his friend’s funeral but he knew Cory’s parents would take him in. The trooper said he remembered the accident, said it was one of the worst he had seen. He was on duty that night and saw Cory’s body torn to shreds, mangled by the impact and flipping car. It was so bad that no one was sure of the identity of any of the kids in the car until relatives identified belongings such as clothing, jewelry, things like that.

It was the wrong house on the wrong road, but the kid was drunk and didn’t really know where he was. He was charged with criminal mischief and everyone tried to calm down and move on.

Frank and Tookie told the few people they knew in the area about their scare. No one could remember the last time anything like that happened. Nobody got their house broken into, especially at 3am. They sure did remember the accident that killed Cory, though. Different road, different family, different town. But all the kids knew each other. It was a big family of friends and the shock lingered. They lost one of their own in every parent’s nightmare. A car accident in the middle of the night.

After that happened, all the boys in Cory’s class started wearing tee shirts with these weird eyes on them. They said it was so the world would know that they were all looking for Cory all the time, and they were looking out for each other. The eyes looked like some kind of monster eyes. Since none of them knew what a monster looked like for real, they did the best they could with the decal design.  Someone’s mom had the shirts made up.

A month passed between the first and second middle-of-the-night event. Same drill, same scare, same night off for the township cops. Dogs barking, shadow on the porch, but no pounding this time. They could hear the porch furniture being moved around and hoped it was an animal of some kind. But then they heard the guitar strumming, softly, sweetly. No singing, just strumming.

A call to the 911 operator got the transfer to the state police dispatch, who remembered the first event. He sounded dubious this time and asked if they were sure it wasn’t a neighbor or one of the family who stayed out too late.  They convinced him to send help but when the cops got there, no one was on the porch. There were footprints leading down the walk and into the road but no other signs.

So the cops hung around for a while to keep an eye out but there was nothing else they could do.

The next morning, they saw the weird eyes painted on the door of the tool shed.  There was no way they could convince the cops that they did not have anything to do with the artwork. This was all beginning to sound too strange.

The third and final time the noise came in the middle of the night, it wasn’t from the porch but from the basement. The dogs were completely frenzied, the cat ran up the tree in the back yard, Frank again stood frozen with the club in his hand and Tookie thought she was going to have a heart attack. The pounding in her chest wouldn’t quit.

Same drill, same call to 911, same transfer to state police dispatch, but the response was much slower this time. They might as well have said, “Yeah, we know. Knocking again. OK.” Frank and Tookie were beginning to think that whatever was going on was not going to hurt them. Tookie entertained some strange ideas. She was becoming convinced that Cory was playing tricks from wherever he ended up.

They stood by the door leading into the basement and heard the same sweet guitar sounds. No voice, just the guitar. When the police pulled into the driveway, the music stopped. The police found the outside doors to the basement latched from the outside, just like it was supposed to be. When they entered the basement from the inside of the house, no one was there. Those weird eyes were painted on the wall, though, and footsteps were found outside, leading to the road. The prints stopped in the middle of the road and vanished into thin air.

This time a different trooper responded and he could see that Frank and Tookie appeared sane and sober, or at least believable. He decided it was time they knew. They could make their decision for themselves but they needed to know the truth about Cory, his accident and the aftermath. He took a chance, sat at the kitchen table and talked to them for about an hour.

It seems that the accident occurred on the road about a quarter mile from their front door. It was in the middle of the night and there were a bunch of kids in the car. Cory was the only one who died; the others were all hurt but lived. The authorities were never sure if the body they had was really Cory. They didn’t do DNA tests but relied on the parents’ identification of the fragmented remains.

Each of the kids who survived swears that they have seen Cory since that night, always in the dark, always on that road, always with his guitar. When they try to stop and talk with him, he disappears, vanishes into nowhere.  One of their buddies was arrested about six weeks ago and charged with criminal mischief for trying to break into a house he says Cory visits. The house belonged to the family of Cory’s girlfriend, Ramona. The family moved away after the accident. Ramona was never the same. She had a nervous breakdown and imagined that Cory was coming to visit her at night. She swore she heard him singing to her. Her parents got help for her but nothing worked, not therapy, not medicine, not distraction, not prayer, nothing. So they moved to Arizona or somewhere like that.

Ramona is the one who designed the decal. She said it was from a drawing left on the ceiling of her room, a drawing she believes came from Cory. He wrote a song for her titled “Her Eyes.” The trooper just spilled out the story and seemed relieved when he finished.

“You know, I was one of the responders on the night of the accident. I’m sure I heard a soft guitar after everyone left the scene. And I’ve heard it since. I wish the township would get its own police coverage on the weekends. None of us want to come out here. Every stinking Saturday night, we get called for something bizarre on this damned stretch of road. Every Saturday night.”

Frank and Tookie were going to leave but decided to stick it out for a little while and see what happened. Once their fear subsided, the dogs calmed down and they actually enjoyed the music. Sometimes on a warm night when the windows are open it sounds like the sweet guitar is being played by the angels somewhere out in the field. And every once in a while they see those weird eyes on another tree trunk. It’s been three years now and they love the peace and quiet.

Rainbow lizard

(Not eligible for votes)

Black Mac described how Dan, the cell phone engineer, with Tiffany’s help, had learned the teleporting technology was really quite small. It all fit in a small container in the building at the bottom of the tower. This meant the technology was either macro technology on this world, or had been designed on Earth. All they had to do was steal the case along with its solar power source, and move it where they wanted to set up. The tower was redundant since it was the first the giants had built. The Pass Giants had confirmed there were several more now, but used nothing more than a pole carved from a very conductive native tree trunk.

I now understood the simple pole at the landing.

Mac addressed me.

“Popeye, Shiv is leading a trading expedition to the pass. We are short of flint and could use a few more robes. Monsoons are due in about a month and the pounding rain and yearly winds will be a chore to handle without warm clothes and shelter.”

“Sure Boss. Count me in.” I looked forward to becoming useful.

“Ok, hit your tent and get some sleep. Tomorrow Etalon here will give you some weapons training and you will meet Shiv. The next day, they will take you and a few others east to trade dried blue mushrooms for flints and robes.”

I got up gave my salutations and headed for my cot.

I woke to the far off calls of Purple Screamers in the mountains, with the dim amazement at how far the sounds carried. Etalon was slapping my tent.

“Come Pop-eye, let us begin you training.”

“Coming Etalon, be right there.” I hustled out of the cot and wrapped my robe on. The day was already warm, so I followed the Frenchman’s lead and rolled my robe down to tie at the waist.

“Bring your bow et quiv-er Mon Ami.”

I did as I was told. I found I was to join a group of three other men and a woman in this class. I was the only one clothed.

Noon found me proficient enough with an arrow, beginning to understand the mechanics of a spear, and beginning to get comfortable with the throw of a bolo. The rest of the group seemed about the same, with some becoming more proficient with some weapons than others.

A bald and naked man with tattoos on several of his well-defined muscles, swaggered into camp with a hearty call.

“Yo, family, lets get this party started.”

Etalon waved a happy greeting and pointed me out.

“Bonjour Shiv. I hope you have been well. Meet our new warrior, Pop-eye.”

“Popeye huh. Welcome. If you are here, it means you are either an escapee from the East or Mac brung ya. Either works for me.”

He strode over and shook my hand.

“By the way you’re clutching the belt on that skirt; I figure you just came in from the landing, not from the people ranch. You got enough experience and balls to sneak past the Screamers and hang out with giant Sasquatch?”

I replied, “Do you ever have enough experience to sneak past Screamers and hang out with Sasquatch?”

“Good point. Keep thinking that way and you’ll live longer. Who else are we takin’ Etalon?”

“Ovair there, we ‘ave Pete, Mutt, Oliver et Princess.”

Shiv laughed aloud. “Princess huh. Wonder if we need to take some maids in waitin’”

A spear appeared quivering in the packed dirt between his legs.

He smiled and winked at the female member of our party. “Guess not.”

“C’m here crew,” Shiv growled as he dropped to sit cross-legged in the dirt. We all joined him in a circle to watch as he scratched a map in the earth.

Pointing to a line he had drawn, he said, “This is the coast.” Perpendicular to the line, he drew a wavy line towards a saw tooth line he drew in the dust. “This is the trail to the Pass Giant’s camp. It should take us about seven days. On the way, we will collect the blue mushrooms, and above the falls we will pick the huge briar berries. We start out traveling light, but by the time we get to Tiffany’s we will be packed right down.”

He looked around slowly to see how we were taking in the information, then continued.

“Normally I wouldn’t warn you about the screamers until we climbed the waterfalls, but there has been a new danger discovered just last week. The lower falls camp just lost a man to a reptile of some kind. They call it the Rainbow Lizard. Imagine a Gila Monster with a luminescent rainbow paint job. They think the thing is about eight feet long and moves like a tortoise until it attacks. It then moves like a cobra.”

Eyebrows went up, but nobody spoke.

“This critter killed the man with one bite. He simply bit, dropped the guy, and continued to hunt the team. They climbed a cliff. It seems this thing isn’t good with elevation. It wasn’t built to climb. While it was fussin’ over the team, one guy who was following behind, tried to rescue the guy that was down, but the bite on the leg had either killed him or paralyzed him so deep the victim couldn’t even blink his eyes. The rescuer damn near lost his life heading for safety when the lizard came back for supper.”

Shiv stopped drank from his water skin and continued.

“We haven’t figured out what their territory is, but so far, only one has been seen and it lives near the bottom of the upper falls.”

He drew two lines across the path east. “This is the lower falls, this is the upper falls. I say we can’t sleep in here.” He drew a circle around the area that was met with nods all around.

“OK. We leave early in the morning. Get plenty of rest. You’re gonna need it to climb the falls.”

By evening of the second day, we were at the base of the lower falls. It didn’t take long to set up camp, but we build a larger fire than normal, then a smaller one to cook with. All of the crew had sacks half full of the neon blue mushrooms, mostly picked last evening when the sun was down. The glowing fungus was easy to find and the harvest was quick. We had a half skin of the delicate morsels steaming over the fire.

Relaxed in camp, I got to know the rest of the crew some. Shiv was the classic “A” type leader. It was easy to tell we were not to take his rules of the road lightly.

His camp instructions were clear and short. Room for discussion wasn’t considered. I noticed Etalon didn’t object when Shiv anglicized his name to Stud. He even grinned as the brawny bald man slapped his back with the title. Sitting around the campfire, I got the stories of Pete, Mutt, Oliver, and Princess. Pete was a farm implement salesman from Omaha. I asked him why his name was so normal and his brow furrowed as he replied.

“I like Pete.”

I figured he was a little short winded for a salesman, but I questioned no father. Instead, I changed the subject. “Well, Pete, how did you get here?”

“Same as you. I run into Mac at a convention. Dunno how, but he knew my wife had picked up with the local sheriff and I didn’t have a home to go back to.”

“Sorry Man, didn’t mean to pry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I ain’t over it yet, so I don’t talk about it much, but Mac showed me the button and I ain’t looked back.”

I left it at that, and directed my questions to Mutt. I could tell why he got the name, so didn’t ask. Mutt was one of the most homely men I ever met, but he seemed to have a pleasant disposition.

“How about you Mutt, What brought you here.”

“Same thing I guess. I never had any friends until I came here. Mac was the first one who ever cared whether I lived or died. Never knew my father and my mother died when I was ten. Since I got to Terra, I have started living my life for the first time instead of just existing. How about you?”

Since these folks hadn’t heard my story, I spilled it out. Watching their nods of understanding, I asked.

“How is it I can spill my guts in a court room back home and no one believes me? Even though exonerated, I had become a pariah.”

Shiv looked over his shoulder while skinning a Lump back. “’Cause Black Mac don’t recruit no shit-heads.” He turned and went back to his chore.

I nodded along with everyone else. This was indeed a fact I had noticed.

Shiv addressed us with his back turned, “That don’t mean they ain’t no shit-heads on Terra. The giant apes ain’t nearly as picky as Mac.”

How about you Oliver?

“Story’s the same Mate. I was cryin’ like a little girl in my back garden in Leeds. I had just buried me Mum down at the Beckett Street Cemetery and had run fresh out of relatives. Mum was all I had.”

I noted Oliver was probably only in his late twenties. He continued his story.

“Mac was at the funeral. I had wondered what he was doing there, it was just me and the mortuary crew… and him. I had been home only an hour or so, and I heard a knock on my side gate. I rose to see who it was, and there was Mac. The button he showed me was in me own bloody garden shed.”

After a short silence to see if he had more to say, I looked at Princess and asked, “Princess?”

She stood and walked closer to the fire. There was a slight chill in the night air by the falls and we all felt it.

“I had cancer. My parents are high-class snobs in L.A. and had disowned me years ago. My Greenpeace actions didn’t fit with their big oil money.” She sat by the fire.

“My boyfriend rolled up in his dreads and split when he found out I had to fight for my life. It turned out he really wasn’t worth a shit when it came to a fight. Mac found me loaded with chemo, bald as Shiv and hooked to a dozen machines. He didn’t have to talk long to get me to press the button on my IV pole.”

“Are you OK?” I was stunned.

“Blue mushrooms cured me. I have been more than healthy since eating them. I could never have lived this way back home. Imagine a Greenpeace wench who was afraid of the woods.”

We all smiled and reflected into the fire.

Shiv jumped to his feet, bow and quiver in hand. “Get into a tree. NOW!”

The camp exploded into action and I joined the jump for the hardwood. I was sixteen feet up a trunk I couldn’t have scaled unless I was scared. I stopped to look back but couldn’t see anything but sweat shined crew in trees around me.

“What is it?” demanded Mutt.

“It’s a fuckin’ dragon shit-head. Look beyond the fire, at the base of the cliff. Look at the dark triangle where the firelight don’t reflect. Look low.”

We saw it. Mirrored eyes surrounded by a muted filtering rainbow of color. It charged the camp and bit the pile of lump back as it passed, avoiding the fire, it planted at the bottom of my tree. The Rainbow Lizard swung around and began beating the tree with a massive armored tail. It was all I could do to hold myself in the quivering branches. The creature was dancing on my bow and quiver while beating my sanctuary.

A spear shot out of the nearby foliage. Princess had pitched with all the leverage she could get while hanging from branches. The weapon simply bounced back with no more effect than to make the dragon mad.

Etalon let an arrow fly, and this time it stuck. The shaft quivered from the metallic sheen of its back. The lizard pitched in a wild roll, then righted and continued to beat my tree. Another arrow zipped in from Shiv’s perch and lodged in the short neck between head and shoulders. The thrashing creature rolled again. This time Etalon drove a shaft deep in its chest and the lizard died.

We gave it a good ten minutes before Shiv suggested we get down and eat. It seemed these animals are loners, which spelled a great deal of relief for a hungry and tired troop. We now knew the lizard had a larger territory than first thought.

We ate lizard that night, and climbed the falls cliff in the morning with a fine shiny hide rolled on the back of Stud’s pack. No one ever called him Etalon again. He was now officially Stud.

We picked huge berries for a few minutes, between the falls, but our packs were heavy fro the last big climb. At the top of the falls, Shiv herded us into the bush and made us pull our robe hoods on.

With a stern warning, he pointed at the sand tracks we made by the river. “We are officially now in Purple Screamer territory. That’s where we lost Randy. Stay quiet and stay in the shade as much as you can.”

We headed up the well-worn game trail toward the Pass Giant’s camp and the fabled Tiffany of the Giants.