The Fountain of Eden: A Myth of Birth, Death, and Beer
Page 19
Chapter 19
Hucking Around Town
A sprinting Huckleberry Finn burst through the beekeeper's screen door, tripped over the doormat, and fell sprawling into the living room at Sir Arthur's feet.
Sir Arthur had been enjoying a morning cigar, and he seemed bemused rather than astonished as he helped Huck to his feet. “What is it, my boy, that has you so excited?”
“Mister Holmes, a beer truck jist left the brewery! Coyote was driving with Old Man in the passenger seat! They was heading into downtown Eden!”
“Most interesting,” said Sir Arthur, puffing away at his stogie with sudden gusto. “That is the Unseen One's offensive move for the morning, and we must counter it. And what of the false Farmer John?”
“He stopped by the brewery for a li'l after the ice cream truck got there, and he left on foot jist after it left. It looked like he was heading towards Tranquil Forest.”
Sir Arthur snapped his fingers. “Damn! I'll bet he's going back to the Underworld. Ben Rogers is at present keeping an eye on the sipapuni. I have instructed him to let all beings pass unmolested, and to simply watch. I hope he does not try to impede the Unseen One. And I hope Team Myth is prepared to deal with the King of the Dead on his home turf.”
Huck pondered for a moment, then said, “Well, Ben's got a bit o' wits about him. He'll stay hid. Tom can take care of hisself, and Becky's no slouch. And sure, Stephone seems sweet as pecan pie, but she is a goddess of death. I ain't so sure 'bout Mister Whiskey, but if he's with those three, he should be all right. He'll relearn how to be a mytho soon enough, 'specially if he's forced to. And he might be forced to pretty darn quick-like down there in the flaming pit of doom and despair.”
“You are quite right, Huckleberry,” said Sir Arthur, blowing smoke rings into the air. “As to Team Real . . . I believe our enemies have deposited the Hoppy Heaven Ale at various locations around Eden so we cannot destroy the whole supply with one hurrah. Joe Harper is currently combing the town grocery and convenience stores, looking for Hoppy Heaven Ale in the beer coolers. But I also believe the Unseen One has retained a large portion of product at the brewery. Masaaw entered the building early this morning and is still on the premises, correct?”
“Yessir. But there still ain't no sign of the rest of them Tricksters.”
“We shall worry about the other Tricksters when it comes to it.” Sir Arthur peered intently at Huck. “Huckleberry, if the Unseen One has returned to the Underworld, he should be gone for at least a few hours. On the western side of the brewery is a window to a small office. See if you can creep up to it unobserved and get a glimpse of something inside. And if you think you can get in undetected, well . . . do it. Keep an eye out for Sid Sawyer, and destroy any and all Hoppy Heaven Ale you see. But be wary of the skeleton man. If you run into him, get the hells out of there.”
Huck grinned in anticipation. “No problem. But if I can get into the building and I see Sid tied up in there . . . less just say I ain't leaving the place without him.”
Sir Arthur nodded, as if he had been expecting this. “Just be careful.”
“But what about the truck?”
Sir Arthur chuckled, then stubbed out his cigar in an ashtray. “I'll take care of that myself.” He waved in Huck's direction. “Now go, Huckleberry! And good luck!”
Huck Finn departed the beekeeper's cottage without another word, heading on foot to the Olde Eden Brewery.
A few minutes later, Huck crouched behind a bush below the office window of the Olde Eden Brewery, watching Colonial Towne Road for passing cars.
When all was clear, he raised himself up on tiptoes and peeked through the window. All was shadowed inside, but he could make out a chair, a desk, and a closed door. He breathed a quick sigh of relief, for he had halfway expected to see the skeleton man leering at him from inside.
Huck pulled a knife from his pocket and cut the lower portion of the screen. He reached through the hole and pushed upwards, and the window opened easily and silently, just as he had been hoping it would. After another quick look around, he placed both hands on the sill and jumped for the opening.
There was a flash of blinding white light, and he flew fifteen feet backwards to land unceremoniously on his rear end. He bounced a few times and skidded to a halt on the parking lot pavement. His body sizzled throughout, as if he had rammed a screwdriver into a wall-socket, and he could smell something burning.
He stood up, patting out his smoldering shirtsleeves, and stared with suspicion at the open window. Cautiously, he approached once more. Inching forward, he stuck out a single finger. When his finger broke the plane of the window there issued a burst of familiar light, and he jerked his hand back and placed the singed digit into his mouth.
Reassuring himself that Sid Sawyer was not being tortured inside, Huck crept off the Olde Eden Brewery property and made his way westward, heading back to the bee farm with speed.
Sir Arthur would want to hear about this.
Huckleberry Finn galloped into the New Shaolin Monastery Meditation Hall and knocked over a surprised pair of monks. His loud entrance brought a few curious stares from the novices facing the wall around the edges of the large room, but most continued meditating, either not noticing him or pretending not to in order to avoid a thwack! from a master's staff.
The Meditation Hall smelled of floor polish and incense, the latter intended to cleanse the novices' minds of impurities and outside thoughts during these thrice-daily mandatory zazen sessions. A plain wooden altar upon which rested a brass statue of the Buddha with a firm, steadying hand upon the ground decorated the far end of the room.
Huck helped the two patchrobed monks to their feet. They both smiled while trying to pat him on the back and shake his hand at the same time.
“Where's Master Mirbodi? I need to talk to him right now! It's, um, quite, ah, urgent, actu'lly.” Huck's face flushed as he realized that he was intruding on a place sacred to the Zenners.
One of the monks, grinning from ear to ear and winking, pointed to the far end of the room, where Master Mirbodi wandered up and down the line of novices, keeping a watchful eye out for those nodding off or otherwise distracted.
Trying not to run, Huck made his way over to the altar, where Master Mirbodi awaited with an ear-splitting smile adorning his face.
“Huck, my friend! Good to see you! What bring you to my throat of forest—I mean, neck of wood? I assume it something important for you to interrupt our morning zazen session.”
Huck let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, sorry 'bout that, Master. I went to Sir Arthur's first, but he warn't there, and I couldn't think of where he mighta gone, so I came here.” He looked around at the novices, a few of whom (including Sitting Lotus) were surreptitiously peeking in their direction. The sound of thwack!ing filled the zendo like a sweet, unsubtle drumbeat of life.
Master Mirbodi nodded and ushered Huck into a tiny room hidden behind the altar. The sparse decorations included a few black cushions, a small table upon which sat a vase of flowers, and a laughing-Buddha woodcut hanging from a nail in a wall. Master Mirbodi gestured to Huck to take a seat on a cushion, and then sat down on one in the lotus position.
“Tell me what happen.”
Huck gave the Zen master the rundown on the situation.
“I think maybe I can help you out,” said the venerable old monk. “I collect one novice and we go to Olde Eden Brewery. Wait for us out front. I be there two minutes, tops.”
Huck sidled back across the Meditation Hall to the exit, where he quietly apologized to the two monks he had knocked over upon entering the building. They did not reply, but continued to smile, nod, and wink. It was almost as if they knew who he was! But it couldn't be! Master Mirbodi wouldn't discuss things like that with his fellow monks! Or was it that they somehow just knew? After all, they were embrightened, or whatever.
One of the monks affectionately slapped Huck on the back. It sent him sprawling out the front door, and he nearly tum
bled down the steps. True to his word, Master Mirbodi glided out of the Meditation Hall one minute later, a reluctant novice in tow.
“All right, boys, let's do this thing!”
And Huckleberry Finn, Master Mirbodi, and Sitting Lotus departed New Shaolin Monastery.