“Do... Do I know you?” Caleb asked.
“Kuu-Kuu! Ask a question of meaning. Do you know yourself, little Wi’im-duzi? You found your melon tree but you climbed a mountain instead! Wi’im-duzi, ha-haa!”
Caleb began walking away, convinced that the little creature was insane or senile. “I’m sorry, you must have mistaken me for...”
“Mistake?” the Awaru said clearly, his voice now surprisingly deep and steady. He stared at Caleb intensely, then broke into another flurry of clucking chattering. “As if I was the Wi’im! The boy has no head! Stop walking away from yourself. Kuu-Kuu! I am here to help you save your precious melon tree. You will surely leap from this mountain only to climb another. Mistake! The Tree has given me a fruit with a skin of stone. It is more than I can bear!”
Caleb turned around to face the bewildering Awaru. “What the hell are you talking about?” he yelled. “Who do you think I am?”
“Kuu-Kuu! He asks a better question already. The stone skin may crack yet. My song turns your head on your shoulders. Evimipo. I will speak more thoughtfully for your ears if you will use them for me.”
Caleb only glared at the Awaru, a strange feeling in his stomach.
“I am known as Krezahu, ‘The One Who Strides Far.’ I have come here to this place of humans to find the fool-hero I have seen in sleeping journeys. I am a Kmuuvkuuz, a sleep-seer. I follow the roots of Chizemh-rzuu, the World Tree. The roots are unseen by others, but I follow their hidden paths. I see them through the soil when I make my sleep-journeys. The soil of the waking world is like water, and I see the roots and swim along their paths. The World Tree has led me to you. I am to help you complete your world-journey. You have a journey along the Tree’s very taproot!”
Caleb was listening and watching as the Awaru chattered and walked in slow circles around him. He was beginning to understand some of what the creature was saying, but it made little sense.
“I thought you were going to try to speak more clearly,” Caleb asked.
“Evimipo! So I did. Perhaps if I were to tell only of what is to come with the next step of your walk, you will have clearer sight. Listen, then Wi’im-duzi.
“You have recently found a thing that has touched your heart. It is a thing with which you belong; yet you fear it and have turned away. That thing is in peril now. You are needed. The melons have been stolen from the tree.”
Caleb thought, his head spinning from the heat and the twisted speech of the Awaru. A thing that has touched his heart. A thing with which he belongs, but he fears it and has turned away. In the distance, the piper and the young singer played a barely familiar tune from the old days, changed and distorted by time. The songs of the caravan rung in Caleb’s memory.
“Wait a minute,” he said, leaning over the wizened Awaru. “You’re talking about the caravan.”
“Ouk! Ouk!” Krezahu squawked excitedly. “I have seen wheels in my sleep journeys. They turn over the land and carry a town of the middle-people.”
“Middle-people...” Caleb echoed. “The old-bloods?”
“Ouk! Yes!” Krezahu was hopping up and down now, waving his feathered arms. “The old-blooded ones! Ha-haa!”
Caleb’s mind was reeling. Somehow, this mad little dinosaur knew all about Caleb and the caravan. What else had he said? Something about melons being stolen from a tree. And peril.
“What’s happened to the caravan?” Caleb asked, suddenly frantic. Krezahu stopped his leaping and crouched low to the ground. Caleb found himself crouching down to listen.
“The thing that has touched your heart is in peril. The melons have been stolen from the tree. In my sleep-journey, a wheel of wood lay broken in a mountain valley. Smoke and ash. The Ne Shaazi have found your middle-people.”
Caleb’s face darkened.
“Kuu, Kuu.” Krezahu continued. “All is not lost. One melon hangs in the boughs. The greatest, most precious fruit has been overlooked. We must go to them now, fool-hero. Shed the rest of your stone skin and follow this old one. Only if we move now will the last fruit be recovered.”
Caleb stared into the sparkling eyes of the wrinkled old Awaru. There was something there, behind the confusing and cryptic words. Caleb knew, in some unfamiliar corner of his mind, that this comical creature was speaking the truth. Something important was happening, and although Caleb didn’t fully understand it, he believed now that there was a danger, and that he had to take action.
“You said you dreamed of a broken wheel in a mountain valley?” Caleb asked, standing straight.
“Ouk, yes! The smoke in the valley. We must go. Will you dare to look upon yourself, Wi’im-duzi?”
“I will take your advice, if that’s what you mean,” Caleb said. “I think I know where this valley is that you’re talking about. It’s a few days away, but I think we can get there quick enough. We’ll have to cross a part of the flats, though, so we’ll need some water.” Caleb looked at the elderly Awaru’s thin frame. “Will you want to ride, or can you walk alright?”
“The fool-questions return! Ha-haa! Kuu-Kuu. Did I not say that I am ‘The One Who Strides Far?’ Your silly human feet will need to ride more than mine will.” Krezahu peered behind Caleb and bobbed his head at Chuck. “Try to keep up with me, great hunter. Hoo-hooo!”
Before Caleb could climb all the way into the saddle, the Awaru was racing off into the crowds in the direction of the public well. With a nudge from Caleb, Chuck broke into a steady trot after the odd creature.
“I’m going to regret this,” Caleb muttered.
THE GROWN-UPS WERE GONE. CALEB was alone in the spacious sixth floor apartment in downtown San Francisco. It was a bright, sunny morning, and Uncle Bill and Aunt Carol had gone out to the store with Aunt Nina. Caleb was sprawled across the puffy cushions of Nina’s big couch, fiddling with the remote to her big-screen TV.
A number of strange shows flickered by, but none of them caught Caleb’s attention. Several news programs were running various doomsday-type stories. Most were tied into the whole Mayan-calendar end-of-the-world predictions. One station was reporting on the increased seismic activity and record-breaking temperatures, theorizing that some environmental catastrophe was in the making. Another news show was talking about a number of widespread and inexplicable power outages in Australia and Asia. Apparently, all of Tokyo was completely without power.
Caleb wasn’t terribly concerned by the odd stories. His aunt and uncle had told him about the same sort of thing happening before when everyone thought that the millennium was ending and the world was going to fall apart. It didn’t happen then, and Caleb, like many other people, was much less inclined to believe the prophecies and predictions.
Caleb clicked past several more stations. He stopped for a minute when he found a good cartoon, but it was one he had just seen, and he quickly grew bored. A few channel clicks later, he recognized the eerily lit set of the “Mysterious Universe” show. They were talking about the growing numbers of UFO sightings again. Caleb figured it was a repeat and was about to flip channels again when the word dinosaurs flashed across the screen.
Caleb sat up straight and turned up the volume, watching attentively. In the corner of the screen, a picture of a vicious dinosaur leered out over the headline “ARE THEY REALLY GONE?” The picture of the dinosaur was so badly drawn that Caleb couldn’t even tell exactly what species it was supposed to be. The host of “Mysterious Universe” was in the middle of talking about something that happened in Mexico.
“...and in a small town south of Tijuana, a woman claims to have seen something resembling a dinosaur.”
Caleb fondled one of the compsognathus feathers he kept in his pocket.
The screen showed a picture of a middle-aged woman standing in her yard. She had a wild look in her eyes and gestured frantically at some nearby trees. She spoke Spanish but an American woman’s voice was translating as she spoke.
“It was right there. I heard something whistle behind the house, like a train. But t
here is no train here. When I came outside, I saw the long neck and the little head. It was swinging back and forth, grabbing leaves and twigs. I called for my brother, but he was on the other side of the house. Then it walked that way,” she pointed to a larger grove of trees further away. “It was so big—bigger than anything. I stared at it until the tail disappeared behind those trees. The tail was even longer than the neck. It swung like a whip and made a noise like thunder. Then I ran to my brother, but it was already gone.”
The screen showed the announcer again. He stood in front of a map of the world. Several locations were marked with glowing blue dots.
“Can these stories be true?” he asked. “Have these people really seen living dinosaurs? Many people dismiss these stories as hoaxes or misperceptions. Others claim that the growing number of worldwide sightings proves that something unusual is happening. Many people wonder if this new phenomenon is in some way connected to the growing number of strange UFO sightings occurring worldwide. This is indeed a bizarre story, but remember, anything is possible in our ‘Mysterious Universe.’”
Caleb sat silently as a series of cheap commercials flickered across the screen. He pulled the feather out of his pocket and twirled it thoughtfully, thinking about the map on the show. It had had those little blue dots all over the place, mostly near the equator, but some as far north as Canada or Russia. The doomsday stories from the other news programs echoed in Caleb’s thoughts. Did this have something to do with all that? If people really were seeing dinosaurs all over the world, what did it mean? What was going on?
The sound of footsteps in the hall outside stirred Caleb from his contemplation. He could hear Aunt Nina’s friendly laughter on the other side of the door. Caleb quickly switched the channel from “Mysterious Universe” to the old cartoon he had spotted before.
Aunt Nina came through the door laughing and carrying a small sack of groceries. Behind her, Uncle Bill and Aunt Carol carried other packages.
“Hey there, kid,” Nina laughed. “You missed your uncle’s acrobat trick.”
Uncle Bill tried to scowl and held his paper bag in front of him, partially covering the stain of broken eggs on his jeans. Carol sputtered and broke into a laugh.
“I’m going to go change and wash off,” Bill said in a mock-angry voice. Caleb chuckled as he stormed by.
Aunt Nina set the groceries down and settled on the couch next to Caleb.
“So, what’re you watching?” she asked.
Caleb saw that Carol had gone to help Bill find a clean pair of pants, then turned and looked at Nina. “I just saw a show that had a Mexican woman who said she saw an Apatosaurus in her back yard.”
“Whoa, that’s wild,” Nina said, sounding only partly serious. “You think it was real?”
“I saw Tyrannosaurus tracks and a whole pack of Compsognathus back home,” he answered. Nina looked at him with an odd expression.
Just then Bill came back into the room wearing a new pair of jeans.
“Hey Willy,” Nina called. Bill winced at the nickname. “The kiddo’s got dinos on the brain. I bet I know who started that.”
Bill passed out of Nina’s view into the kitchen. Caleb could still see him through the living room door.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “He’s got a great imagination though, huh?” Bill winked at Caleb conspiratorially.
Caleb stifled a giggle as Carol came back into the living room.
“Caleb, how would you like to go to the movies with Nina and me?” Carol asked. “Bill’s got some errands he thinks he has to do, but we’re going to loosen up and have a nice day.”
Bill scowled again. “I have to talk to a guy over at the Berkeley museum. I haven’t seen him in a while and I need to ask him a couple questions. He’s an expert on small theropods. Compsognathus to be exact.” Caleb grinned. “Why don’t you go ahead with your aunts, Caleb? This guy knows his stuff but even you’d get bored after hearing him talk about thigh bones for two hours.”
Caleb clicked off the TV and slipped on his shoes. He joined his aunts at the door, turning back to look at Uncle Bill. Bill grinned and gave the “thumbs up” sign.
“See you later Caleb. Let’s all try to be back at around four o’clock. We can have a nice dinner and then go out for the parades and stuff. It’ll be great.”
Caleb ended up seeing two movies with his aunts, then wandered up and down Market Street a short while. At one point, they passed a store window filled with televisions, each one showing the same news program. A reporter was pointing to a map of Europe and talking about widespread blackouts. Caleb was tugged along by his aunts before he saw any more.
They came back to the apartment at quarter to four. Uncle Bill had already started cooking dinner, and Carol and Nina were soon helping out. Caleb thought about turning on a news channel, but he decided he would rather read one of his new comic books.
An hour later, dinner was still cooking and Caleb had lost patience for his comics. He sat in front of the TV, watching pictures of Paris and London. A newsman claimed that the footage was taken less than an hour ago. It showed New Year’s celebrations in the two cities.
The Paris video ran first. The city was a brilliant network of sparkling lights and flowing traffic, seen from the high vantage of a news helicopter. Bright clusters of activity could be seen where the main celebrations were occurring. The lights of neighboring cities and towns could be seen spreading off into the distance.
The camera suddenly panned around to one side, focusing on the eastern horizon. Caleb sucked in a sharp breath as he saw a wave of darkness surge over the horizon. It spread like a tidal wave toward the city below. Every light and glimmer in its path was completely snuffed out. The cameraman was shouting to the pilot in French. The copter swerved and began speeding away from the approaching wave of blackness.
The camera focused below and slightly behind the craft, just enough to see the darkness sweeping closer with shocking speed. It was already touching the edges of the city. Building lights and even automobile headlights were going dead black in the wake of the wave. In less then five seconds, the wave had swept across more than half of the city. A flash of fiery light emerged from somewhere back in the spreading darkness where the lights of the Paris Airport had been moments before. The line of darkness swept closer to the helicopter, then passed beneath it. As it did, the footage ended in a brief burst of static, followed by blackness.
The London footage followed. It was almost identical to the Paris video. The newsman was explaining that conditions within the blacked out areas were largely unknown, as radio communication was impossible within the darkened regions. Caleb stared at the screen, then out the window at the dimming sky.
“Caleb,” Bill called from the kitchen. “Can you give us a hand setting the table?”
Caleb hopped up and ran into the kitchen.
“Uncle Bill,” he gasped. “There was a huge blackout on the TV!”
“You didn’t break your aunt’s set did you?” Bill asked distractedly, reaching for a bowl.
“No, no. The TV didn’t black out, Paris did. They showed it. London too.”
Uncle Bill was setting stacks of plates on the table.
“Oh, yeah. I think I heard something about that on the radio earlier. I wouldn’t worry about it, Caleb. Blackouts happen all the time. It’s probably just some little thing blown all out of proportion. Some computer hacker messing with stuff and trying to get a rise out of people with all that ‘End-of-the-World’ Mayan-calendar stuff. You remember; fires, floods, all that stuff?”
“But the whole city...”
“Caleb, can we talk about this a little later? We really need some help here right now.”
Caleb sighed and stared at the dishes and napkins on the table. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed; just a stupid prank or mistake or something. But why was it happening all over the world? He grabbed a handful of forks and started setting the table.
“After dinner, we can go see the para
des,” Carol said from across the kitchen. “Then we can head over to the Golden Gate Bridge. If we get there early, we might have a good view of the fireworks at midnight.”
That sounded pretty good to Caleb. He continued laying out plates and silverware. Now that he thought about it, the blackout stuff was probably just a hoax. Like that old radio show about alien invasions his uncle kept talking about. That had made a whole bunch of people jump out of windows and stuff, but it was just an imaginary story. Outside, Caleb could hear music and people laughing and hollering excitedly. This was going to be a great New Year’s Eve.
The San Francisco Bay was like a bobbing sea of glittering lights. Countless numbers of boats, from tiny dinghies to giant luxury yachts, were drifting through the sparkling waters. Parties erupted on the decks of the larger craft, and people hopped from one vessel to another like kids climbing across stepping stones in a stream. A boggling mix of different music and songs echoed up from the boats, mingling to produce a single, jumbled tune made out of bass beats and fragments of lyrics. Caleb looked down on it all from the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Uncle Bill stood behind him protectively to shield him from the surging crowd that was packed onto the sides of the great bridge. All around, the echoes of cheers and excited screams reverberated off of the massive steelwork. Further out, beyond the rippling blanket of boats, Caleb could see Alcatraz Island, Angel Island State Park, and Treasure Island, which stood midway between San Francisco and Oakland. Beyond that, the docks and wharfs of Berkeley were lit with the lights of countless other parties.
Caleb glanced to his left, where Aunt Carol stood, her arm wrapped around Uncle Bill’s waist. Aunt Nina stood next to Carol, staring out at the sea of lights and grinning like a little kid.
“What time is it now, Uncle Bill?” Caleb asked, for the tenth time.
“It’s getting close,” he answered. “It’s only about two ‘til midnight.”
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