by Obert Skye
Suspicious Minds
Ezra was right. It didn’t take very long for the word to spread about Dennis’s ability to float and his explanation for what was plaguing the entire world. People began to flock to the Tent of Answers and Possibilities. By the end of the day there were more people than chairs, and two news crews had come to film Dennis hovering. By the following morning the national press had picked up the story, and hundreds of people began to flood into the sleepy town of Santa Rosa looking for both answers and possibilities.
Dennis was taking to his new role beautifully. It was as if his personality had been born the moment he had put on the robe. He loved the feeling of others listening to him. And he had no problem with Ezra reading what was on his mind so he could repeat those facts and figures about Foo to all who came.
A woman had come from Texas and brought her electric
keyboard. She was so convinced Dennis was the real deal that she had agreed to play music for free until the day Blue Hole opened up and Foo came to Reality. She was now playing music softly as the people spilled into the tent in anticipation of hearing Dennis speak. They had to open the sides of the tent so that more people could hear.
Dennis came in from the side wearing his robe with the hood up. He stood at the front and flung his hood back, exposing his shaved head.
The crowd clapped. As usual, Ezra was tucked behind Dennis’s right ear, ready and willing to feed Dennis suggestions and information.
“Tuesday,” Dennis began. “Today is Tuesday.”
The crowd seemed to like where this was going.
“Once,” Dennis continued, “when I was like you, I used to go to work on Tuesday.”
The crowd hollered in agreement and the music grew louder.
“And on Wednesday, and on Thursday and on Friday and on Monday—and even sometimes on Saturday.”
The crowd shivered.
“But no more.”
There was a nice round of clapping and some happy music.
“What if I told you that all your dreams could come true? What if I told you that the events happening today are simply the signs of what’s to come?”
One lady giggled excitedly as Dennis began to hover.
“Well, we can be scared—or we can be prepared.”
Dennis wiped his large forehead, feeling quite happy with how things were going.
“In a short while, thousands of beings will rise from the caverns below Blue Hole Lake. But what they don’t realize is that we know about them. We are aware and—if you are committed—ready to claim the wonders and miracles of Foo for ourselves.”
The crowd cheered and the keyboardist played “Roll Out the Barrel.”
“Then every dream you’ve ever dreamt will be fulfilled. Impossible tasks will be commonplace and possibility will be beyond endless. You see me floating?”
Everyone nodded in awe.
“That’s nothing,” Dennis said kindly. “Soon the possibility of so much more will be yours to take. All we need is to gather ourselves here on the edge of the gateway and prepare to stop what’s coming. Will you prepare?”
Dozens of audience members replied, “Yes.”
“Will you prepare?” Dennis asked again.
“Yes!”
“Now let me tell you about a problem called the Dearth,” Dennis said. “He will step from that lake and wish to take your existence. Will we let him?”
“No!”
Dennis smiled as he looked out over the crowd. His heart felt too big for his chest and his arms and legs tingled with the excitement of a captive audience. He bowed slightly.
Dennis went into great detail about Foo and the worrisome things happening in Reality. He closed by saying, “More at eleven.”
Dennis flipped his hood back up and walked out.
The crowd continued to chant. Many dialed friends and family on their cell phones, begging them to come to Santa Rosa and be part of Dennis’s clan.
“They’re more gullible than I thought,” Ezra whispered as Dennis walked away through the cars.
“This is going to work,” Dennis said.
“I’ve been telling you that for days,” Ezra complained.
“They’re listening to me.”
“Well, in all honesty, they’re listening to you say what I want.”
“Still,” Dennis said thoughtfully.
At eleven the crowd was twice the size. Thanks to the Internet and the Associated Press, people were coming in droves. Dennis was the first person to offer some sort of explanation for what was happening. A few other wackos around the world had tried to act like they knew what was up, but they had no real explanation. Dennis not only seemed to understand telts and avalands but he could hover when he talked. Dennis also had a plan. He was asking the world to gather around Blue Hole Lake and prepare to overtake the trouble that would pour out someday soon. His plan also promised those who helped great riches and possibilities in Foo.
Gullible people liked that.
“Across the street is a small lake,” Dennis said loudly.
“Blue Hole,” the crowd murmured.
“For hundreds of years people have speculated just where the caverns beneath it lead,” Dennis said. “Well, there’s no longer need for speculation. In a short time the lake will drain. Soon afterward, hundreds of thousands of creatures, much like those who have been plaguing us now, will spill up into our world. Their desire is to control Reality and their leader is called the Dearth. They might have succeeded, if it were not for the fact that we know they are coming. And because we know, dreams and imagination will be your only limitation and your boring and monotonous lives will be filled with adventure and fulfillment.”
The audience screamed and shouted with joy.
“Call all who want to be a part of it. Fill this barren land with those who want more,” Dennis exhorted. “Foo awaits all of us. More tomorrow at nine.”
The crowd clapped and hooted. Dennis stepped out from behind his podium and walked though the crowd high-fiving and shaking hands. Halfway through the masses he turned and made an escape through the side of the tent. He broke out into the open and took long strides across the parking lot.
“Don’t look now,” Ezra said, “but some people are following you.”
Dennis turned and looked. Two thin men in brown suits stood about a hundred feet behind them.
“I told you not to look,” Ezra said.
“How do you know they’re coming towards me?” Dennis said. “There are people everywhere.”
“You’ve got a point,” Ezra replied. “Most people are repelled by you. Still, they look determined.”
Dennis walked faster. He was tired. His feet hurt and his head was still swimming from the attention he had just received. His heart beat loudly and suddenly he wanted nothing but to be back in his motel room lying on the bed.
The two men turned and went a different direction.
“I guess they didn’t want you,” Ezra said.
“Good,” Dennis said. “I’m exhausted.”
Dennis crossed the wide road in a diagonal line heading towards the motel. A large black car pulled onto the road and sped towards Dennis. Dennis stepped into the vacant dirt lot next to the motel. The car followed and slammed on its brakes just before hitting Dennis and Ezra. A huge cloud of dust washed over them.
The two thin men with brown suits climbed out of the car and walked up to Dennis with purposeful strides. One of the men had a large mole on his chin and the other had a mustache under his nose. Neither one looked very kind, thanks to the hard expressions they were sporting.
“Can I help you?” Dennis asked.
Mole looked Dennis up and down.
“Are you the one with the tent?” Mustache asked.
“Yes,” Dennis said.
“Professor Wizard?”
Dennis nodded.
The men reached into their suit coats and pulled out wallets. They flashed gold badges at Dennis.
“Neat,�
�� Dennis said, not knowing how else to respond.
“You bet it is,” Mustache said. “This badge gives us the right to take a little bit of your time.”
Mole grabbed Dennis’s arm. “You’re coming with us.”
A number of spectators had gathered around, curiously watching.
“What’s this about?” Dennis asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Dennis said boldly.
“We’ll see about that,” Mustache barked. “Into the car.”
“You can’t take him,” one of the crowd argued. “He didn’t do anything.”
“We’ll let the government decide that,” Mole said, pushing Dennis into the large black sedan.
Ezra whispered to Dennis and Dennis yelled out to the spectators, “Keep gathering. The Dearth is coming!”
“Quiet,” Mole ordered, “or we’ll charge you with inciting a riot.”
The door slammed and Mustache climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the car and revved the engine loudly. He threw the car into drive and dust and rocks blanketed all of those standing around as the vehicle raced off.
“Perfect,” Ezra whispered. “Just perfect. There’s nothing like a little action to get things noticed.”
Neither Mustache nor Mole said a single word during the two-hour drive west towards Albuquerque. Ezra, on the other hand,
quietly whispered things to Dennis during the whole ride.
At the edge of Albuquerque the vehicle exited the highway and drove south. They stopped at a checkpoint, flashed some identification, and then sped farther south. The area was barren and deserted. There were no homes or structures, just desolate dirt roads that stretched out along the east side of the Monzano Mountains.
The car turned left on one of those deserted roads and drove right up to the side of the mountain. A large bunker built into the side sat there like the opening to the earth’s stomach.
The car stopped and Mole helped Dennis out of the car.
“Find out where we are,” Ezra whispered.
“Where are we?” Dennis asked nervously.
“That’s a question,” Mole replied.
“Am I not allowed to ask questions?”
“Did you not give him the ‘no questions asked’ speech yet?” Mole complained to Mustache.
“I didn’t have time.”
“No questions,” Mole insisted.
“I don’t understand what we’re doing,” Dennis said, confused.
“I’m sure they’re aware of that,” Ezra whispered.
“Inside,” Mustache ordered, opening a large white door and waving Dennis into the bunker.
The bunker was empty. There were a few boxes in the far corner and a couple of mousetraps along the edge. Four chairs circled a metal table in the middle of the room, and a suspended light shone down like a brash flashbulb that was determined to shine. The entire place wasn’t much bigger than a large warehouse and reeked of sulfur.
Ezra swore.
“What was that?” Mole asked.
“I said it stinks,” Dennis said innocently.
“Sit down,” Mole said, pointing to the chairs.
Dennis walked over and sat in one of the middle chairs.
“Actually, could you slide over?” Mustache asked. “It’s probably best if you’re not in the middle.”
Dennis moved into a different chair.
Mole and Mustache sat down. They looked at their watches and brushed the knees of their trousers. Mustache pulled out a small comb and ran it though his namesake. Mole whistled a bit, stood up, paced around the chairs and table, and then sat back down.
“Are we waiting for something?” Dennis finally asked.
“No questions,” Mole replied.
After a few more minutes Dennis heard the sound of another vehicle pulling up outside. The door of the bunker opened and an impressive-looking person in an army uniform walked into the bunker. He had short brown hair and dark eyes. He also had two deep dimples in his chin.
Mole and Mustache saluted him as he took a seat across the table from Dennis. He pulled out a folder and clicked his pen. He then sniffed twice and looked directly at Dennis.
“Professor Wizard,” he said with contempt. “Or should I say, Dennis O Wood.”
“Either one’s fine,” Dennis said nervously.
“Oh, so you admit to being both?”
Dennis nodded and Dimples scribbled something on the folder.
“I don’t want to get into sources, or who I heard it from,” Dimples said. “But there’ve been some reports about you giving explanations to what’s happening around the world.”
“It was probably me you heard it from,” Dennis said helpfully, “because that’s what I’ve been doing.”
“I see,” Dimples said, making more notes. “How is it that a janitor from back east has become a know-it-all out west?”
“Well, we drove most of the way,” Dennis answered.
“Not how did you get here,” Dimples raged. “How do you know what you think you know, but you can’t possibly know?”
“About Foo?”
All three military men grimaced uncomfortably. After regaining some composure, Dimples spoke. “Yes, about Foo.”
“Tell them to shove it,” Ezra whispered.
Instead Dennis went with, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try us,” Dimples dared.
“Why do you even care?” Dennis asked.
Dimples looked at Mole and Mustache. He stood up and turned to face the door. He folded his hands behind his back.
“The world is in turmoil,” Dimples said. “You are aware of that?”
Dennis nodded his shaved head.
“I mean, countries are preparing for war over all these things that nobody can explain.”
“I can,” Dennis said.
“So you say,” Dimples snapped. “Did you know there are accounts going back thousands of years of the existence of a place called Foo? Egyptians referenced it as Pfu, the Russians Foo, with their own style of o’s, and in Asia Fu . . .”
“Like in ‘everybody was kung fu fighting,’” Mole chimed in.
“Yes,” Dimples agreed. “Like that song. Well, it seemed the talk always surrounded dreams and images that were bleeding into Reality. The chatter was always dismissed because there’s no proof in dreams. A few select beings, however, have kept their eyes and ears open for any further insight. One of those interested parties is your government. We weren’t originally concerned, but about fifty years ago a man by the name of Hector Thumps reported to his local government about a place he had been to and how he had gotten back. He was dismissed as crazy, but we kept an eye on him just in case. The government lost track of him for a bit, but then he showed up again, this time with a child. He gave the child to a nice family and was never seen again. Guess what we did then?”
“You watched the child?”
“Well, yes,” Dimples said awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d guess it right off. Anyhow, the child was unspectacular and, to be honest with you, he did nothing flashy or Foo-like. Nope, Elton Thumps grew up rather normal and married a nice woman. Unfortunately for him, it was about this time that the country got very suspicious about things they didn’t understand. A couple of high-ups began to wonder if there wasn’t some power or advantage in knowing about Foo, and the only sort of real connection they had was Elton. They tried to talk him into helping, but he knew nothing of Foo. He told them he was a child when he was brought here and had no knowledge of it. For some reason the government didn’t believe him. So they had to make a few adjustments.”
“Adjustments?” Dennis asked.
“They might have accidentally faked his death and taken him far away. And when his wife died giving birth to his child a few days later, they might have told him that the child had died as well.”
“I like their style,” Ezra whispered.
Dennis just looked
baffled.
“You have to understand, the government was suspicious. We kept some tabs on the child who was born, but a short while ago he disappeared. It was at that same time that odd things began happening in the world. And now you claim to know things and are connecting it to Foo.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” Dennis asked.
“Because we’ve got nothing,” Dimples said, his hands shaking and eyes bulging. “I’m getting all kinds of pressure from my commanders to produce something and I have nothing—nothing. The world is falling apart. Countries are preparing for war and they’re putting it on my shoulders. Me. I’m up for retirement in six weeks, and if I can just give them something to focus on until—”
Mole slapped Dimples. “Get ahold of yourself.”
Dimples put his hand to his face and stood up. He breathed deeply and tried to regain his composure.
“How is it you know about Foo?” he finally asked Dennis.
“I’m not sure I want to answer that,” Dennis said. “It seems to me that you went to great lengths to hurt Elton Thumps. How do I know you’re not planning the same for me?”
“Don’t worry about Elton, he’s completely forgiven us,” Dimples said lamely.
Dennis laughed nervously. “I’m not sure I believe that.”
“You’re a smart man,” a new voice spoke.
A tall man in a long coat and stiff hat stood in the doorway of the bunker. He took off his hat and walked with purpose up to the table. He was somewhere between forty and forty-five, with thick dark hair and brown eyes. His chin was as well-defined as his smile. He was tan and wore glasses that fit his scholarly face.
Mole stood up and offered the man his chair. The man sat down and smiled at Dennis. He removed his gloves and extended his right hand to shake.
“Dennis, is it?” he said.
Dennis nodded, looking at the man’s slightly blue hands.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dennis. I’m Elton, Elton Thumps.”
Ezra swore and Dennis repeated it.
“Now,” Elton smiled, “what can you tell me about my son?”
Chapter Forty
Split Decisions
Before everyone had even finished eating Winter had drifted off to sleep and Clover was snoring. The trees and bushes kept the area dry and cozy and it didn’t take more than a few more minutes before they were all out.