Children of the Sunrise
Chapter 12
"Why are you telling me this stuff now? What the hell am I supposed to do with it? If you wanted me to know the ultimate truths of the universe, why did you wait so long to tell me?" I was exasperated. The little black boy had decided it was time to tell me what was behind the Awakening. It was scary as hell.
"You were not ready" he answered patiently. "I could not tell you what you were unable to hear." He stood in the seat and put his hand on my shoulder. "The Awakening and the Recollection are traumatic events for any living world. When a world is young, it is necessary for its parts to believe that the universe revolves around them, just as a newborn child perceives all things only in the context of its own needs. The laws of creation call for distinctions to be drawn, for naming to be done, so that the universe may be ongoingly in creation." He paused for a moment as he noticed the lack of comprehension on my face. "Perhaps it would be easier if I began more simply."
"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, "that would be a good idea.
The last light of day was failing us as we passed around another cedar and mesquite covered West Texas hill. We had just driven through San Antonio and were making our way towards the northern side of the sunset. The things the little black boy was telling me should have assaulted my reality. They totally altered my world view, but somehow, it all seemed vaguely familiar, like a long lost memory that wouldn't quite float to the surface. I felt an odd sense of heightened awareness floating in and out of my mind just as our little caravan passed in and out of the shadows made by the swollen hill country landscape.
Sam Glennon's voice crackled over the CB radio we had installed before we left. He drove the advance van. "We're going to take a right up here on 87 folks. Only about an hour to the campsite so tighten up when we get off."
"Gotcha Tonto." I coughed back into the CB. I turned around and checked the horse trailer behind the truck. The old Ford seemed to be doing okay but with the two horses behind and a bed full of supplies, she waddled like a pregnant duck. I would have to take it slow and easy on the narrow, roller coaster road we were coming to or I would end up in a ditch. That's no good in the hill country 'cause some of the ditches are a couple of hundred feet deep.
I heard John Sr. check in from the big U-haul truck and Willa called in from the second van that Mary was driving. I was the last guy in line. I could see Mary's tail lights about two hundred yard ahead. There were still plenty of cars on the interstate. We intentionally drove in a loose pack to give the impression we were unrelated vehicles.
The rushed exit from Houston had been frenetic but uneventful except for two unexpected incidents. The first of which was drooling on he floorboard of the truck with Joey's hand holding his collar. Jubal Harshaw Rappaport, golden wonder dog, was back from the dead.
Just as we were leaving Houston, Joey, who had been in a listless, blue funk since the night a the shelter, started screaming "Jubie! Jubie!" I thought he was suffering some sort of delayed grief hysteria and tried to calm him down. It took a minute but he finally made me understand that he could sense Jubie again. Sure enough, two tense minutes later, the rugged old hound came limping up with dried blood matted all over his golden fur. He was wrapped in a ridiculous assortment of bandages that made him look like the Return of Old Yeller's Mummy.
He was accompanied by a little girl about Tulli and Sarah's age who was dressed in a dirty nightgown. She held tightly onto the rags wrapped around his neck. As soon as we could stop him and Joey from rolling all over the ground like couple of minks in heat, Mary peeled off the bandages and checked him out.
After a minute or two, "Tom, has Jubie ever been seriously hurt before?"
"No," I said "...at least nothing big. He got bit on the head by a rattlesnake when he was bout a year old but all that did was swell his head up and make him spend the night in he shower. I've always assumed it was the cause of his brain damage." Joey kicked me on the shin, hard. "Ow Joey, Jeez, I was just kidding." Guess I picked the wrong time to dig Old Yeller.
Mary looked up at me, "It's the same type of thing I saw with John Sr., Thomas, Jubie's a mass of scar tissue. His throat was torn so bad I can't believe his windpipe and jugular veins are still intact...but once again the would appears weeks old. I think this little girl must have some of the magic mending power."
Variety tickled me under the left arm. "Looks like your not the only shaman on the block Uncle Tom." She leaned over and held out her hand to the toddler. The little girl reached for her unafraid. "Did you fix this big yellow dog young lady?" she asked.
"Uh huh," She leaned over on Jubie and gave him a big hug. "I foun' him, he was sick. I put him in the sun and he got better...I'm hungry an I wanna go to the waterfall." We all looked at each other in disbelief. Things just kept getting weirder.
Variety bundled up the little munchkin and toted her off for a quick wash and some food. The rest of us crawled into our vehicles and drove off one at a time. We had agreed to maintain radio silence until we were a ways out of town so we had set up a meeting place at a roadside park just before Columbus. Joey and Jubie frolicked all over the front seat until we were just outside the city limits. I was getting slapped in the face by Jubie's ropy tail for about the fourth or fifth time and was about to start screaming when I saw the flashing lights of a blue and white in my rear view mirror.
"Maybe it's not me." I thought and pulled over to the right to let him pass. He pulled right in behind me and hit a short burst on his siren. I pushed down a moment's panic. No way I could outrun them in this tugboat. I pulled over to the side of the freeway, my mind racing over the story I had rehearsed. I was in a truck with false plates and my wallet was full of fake ID. I rolled to a stop and crawled out of the car. Relief washed over me as I recognized the officer driving the police car.
"Ho boys, you scared me to death." I walked over and shook Officer Wisenhunt's hand.
Wilson, Sister Willa's brother, leaned over the passenger seat. "Mr. Bowie, things are not going too well. There's a commission the Mayor has formed a few days ago to head up he witch hunt. Some Catholic priest that doesn't like you very much is on it. He's got you at the top of the list as a trouble maker."
"Good ol' Father William," I thought, "...born out of his time. Should have been around for the inquisition."
"Listen Mr. Bowie, these guys are serious. Once they find out you're on the lam, they'll wire descriptions to all the state law enforcement bodies. The Governor's given them special enforcement powers in the crisis. They can hold you on nothing but suspicion. Watch your ass."
"I bet I know just the guy you talking about." I replied. "He wants to exorcise the kid's devils."
Officer Wisenhunt grabbed my hand. "How's Amy."
"She's fine." I squeezed his hand. "She makes great oatmeal. Don't worry, we'll take good care of her."
"Look," he said "Wilson and I will try to muck up the wire reports but that's not our area. We may not succeed. He pointed to my old Ford. "They'll be able to able to trace this truck by description even with the fake plates. You'd better get rid of it soon." We hadn't told him about the fake plates which said something about our abilities at subterfuge.
He handed me something hard wrapped in a towel. "This piece is clean. You may need it. There's a box of cartridges too." I started to turn it down. Dusty and the kids had demanded that we bring no weapons. They were adamantly opposed to violence. They called it "grump craziness." I kind of agreed with them. He caught my reluctance. "Mr. Bowie, these people are bad. They'll hurt the kids." He caught my eye. "You promised me you'd protect my girl...you may need this." I hesitated, then nodded and took the bundle. "Keep it out of sight" he cautioned. "...and if you have to use it, don't try anything fancy. Shoot to kill."
They waved me off and I got back on the road. By the time I caught up with the others at the rest stop, I had settled the issue for myself. i wouldn't be doing any killing on this trip. I told the others what was going on and gave the gun to Sam Glennon. Dusty demanded he throw it away and he agreed but later, as I walked by his van, I saw him slip it into a box behind the driver's seat. I decided to let it be. Without Jesse around, I was a little fuzzy on what was right in the situation. "Damn," I thought. "I miss her already."
The sign announcing the exit for State Highway 87 and Fredricksburg passed over my head and I eased over into the right lane to exit.
The little black boy was talking again but I wasn't listening. My thoughts were on Jesse.
"Thomas Jefferson Bowie...listen to me!"
"Just a second, let me get off the road first." I used the exit as an excuse to avoid the conversation a few moments longer. After I had wrestled the truck onto the smaller highway, I turned back to my "friend".
"Now what were you saying?" I asked reluctantly.
"You must learn to control your attention. There is much to know!" I could see he was getting a little exasperated. That made me feel a little better.
"Listen, this is a lot to swallow. I don't see why I have to learn all this interstellar religion anyway. I don't know that I believe all this stuff." I was getting a little obstreperous.
"Believe! Believe!" This was great. I was actually pissing him off. He looked like he was going to pop a cork. "It matters not the slightest what you believe. This is not about religion. If you want religion, go study your pitiful sciences...go see one of your 'advanced' medical centers and ask your physicians about the workings of your body." He as working himself into a rage. "Your belief systems are so primitive, so full of absurd dogma, it is a sign of your remarkable creativity that you can continue to rationalize the ongoing failures of these 'theories' at all, let alone justify the incredible arrogance with which you proselytize! Belief is just blind opinion you ignorant butthead!" He was screaming a this point. His face probably would have been beet red if it wasn't already black. "I am talking about life, universal life! I am giving a priceless gift you crazy grump cannibal!" He let out a scream that belied his reedy little voice. I thought sure it would wake up Joey. The he took a big breath, blew a huge raspberry right in my face and threw himself down on the seat in a pout.
I wiped the imaginary spittle off my face and dared another little cut. I'm a nasty bastard when my pride is hurt. "Boy, you sure do act immature for an advanced being. That was a childish little tantrum." He glared at me for a moment, then the raged seemed to drain out of his stare and was replaced by a sort of tired pity.
"Yes," he said, "it was childish. I feel, I express how I feel. I can be hurt. I can feel anger and frustration and when I do, I will not hide it. I don't try to hurt others to protect my pride. I celebrate when I am given a gift and I love and respect those who care for me and nurture me."
A wave of guilt rushed over me. His voice got softer. "I know you experience this as threatening. Try to stand above your identity. See through the child within and surrender to the gift I offer." The twinkle came back to his eye. He stood up on his knees and gave me a hug. "Come on Ucca Tom, lighten up." Hoist on my own petard, I settled back in my seat and hugged him back.
I was following close behind Mary on the highway to Fredricksburg. As we came around a tight left hand curve that dropped into a gully, her brake lights came on and I almost plowed into the back of her. I put on my hazard lights and piled out of the car. I could see Willa was already out of the van and trotting towards Big John's truck at the bottom of the little ravine.
"Willa," I yelled, "what's going on. This is a rotten place to stop.!"
She kept trotting but called back over her shoulder. "Don't know Tom, John's got some kind of trouble with the big truck."
"Christ," I muttered to myself. That's all we need, a breakdown on a blind curve in the middle of the night." I pulled out one of the highway flares and dropped it about twenty yards behind the trailer, ran about fifty yards down the road and dropped another. By the time I got down to the bottom of the gully, the kids were all piled out of the vans and were gathered around something on the side of the road. They were obviously upset. I walked up to John and asked what was going on.
"It's a deer Tom. It came out from the side of the road. I couldn't stop. I think it's hurt bad. The kids are real upset." I could tell the big guy was demoralized. He's a real softy with animals.
Sam Glennon was bent over the deer. It was a doe, fully mature. She was shivering. Her right rear leg was bent at an impossible angle and blood bubbled at her nostrils. She struggled to get up a time or two, then just lay there, her eyes showing the pain. The children were horrified. This close, I knew that most of them could feel a good part of her fear and pain. It was a sorry situation. I pushed my way through the crowd and bent over the animal. I reached down and stroked her quivering side. I remembered what my "friend" had said..."Life is life is life is life."
As I squatted there, Sam reached over and touched my shoulder. "Tom, there's nothing we can do for her. We need to put her out of her misery." I thought about the gun he had hidden in his van. My heart cried at the truth of his words. I nodded at him and he got up and walked off. Just then I felt a little hand tugging at my collar. I turned around and saw the little urchin that had come in with Jubie. She had tears in her eyes. "She's hurt." she whispered. "We have to take her to the light."
Something in her eyes called me, some spark of recognition, some voice like a trumpet in the distance on a foggy moor. I reached over and lifted her over the crowd so she could touch the fallen animal. She kneeled beside the doe and caressed her fur. She looked up at me. "Help me" she said. We joined hands and I closed my eyes. I could feel a strange energy surging through my fingertips as we touched. It ran down my arm and into my spine like a blue electric light. As the charge hit my eyes, the darkness behind my lids was suddenly illuminated. I was unexpectedly by the bayou again, John was in my arms. we were walking in the light. I carried him farther and farther into the scintillating blaze. The swirling flames leapt higher and higher around us. I could see his face. He smiled. The flames parted and we came to a beautiful meadow, somehow shimmering, afire with dots of light, each blade of grass, each cloud in the sky a pointillist painter's vision of paradise. Peace washed over me as I lay his body down on the resplendent lawn. He looked up at me and his face changed. The doe's eyes showed her gratitude. I was surprised by the transformation and opened my eyes...the deer lay still at my feet, dead.
I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. It hadn't worked. I thought I could heal her. I had failed. Tears came to my eyes. I looked over at the little girl. She looked deeply into my eyes and fathomed my pain. "Don't worry. She's happy now. She didn't want to come back. She wanted to stay in the light. Don't worry." She jumped up and wrapped her arms around my neck and I cried like a baby. The children all gathered around and comforted me. Little hands rubbed my brow and stroked my cheek. I felt better right away.
Sam Glennon stood a few feet away as everyone began to move back to their vehicles. He fixed me in a lost a quizzical stare for a long moment, shook his head and returned to the van. I walked back to my truck to find Joey awake and my "friend" gone. I stamped out the two flares and followed Mary's taillight into the night as Jim Morrison and the Doors pounded out "Break on Through to the Other Side" on the tape deck.
