Surviving the Improbable Quest

by Anderson Atlas

“Wow. Good.” Allan had never seen American history so clearly. “We’ve had our problems in the past, too.”

  “Yeah, but your system pushes through all these problems. You’ve left a golden trail for us to follow.”

  With all the trauma and troubles Allan has gone through, he’d almost forgotten that there were others that had similar or worse problems than him. The two continue talking for hours, laughing and sharing stories. Allan surprises himself by remembering so many good times, and Asantia’s stories are nothing short of fantastic.

  Finally, they reach the other side of the lake. Asantia turns and parallels the shoreline. The House of Gold appears in a clearing next to a farm. It has round windows and archways overhanging doorways to courtyards and stairways. Plants of all colors and varieties hang off the balconies and overflow from hanging pots.

  As they get closer Allan sees the inlet. It’s a harbor leading to a dock. On either side of the harbor entrance are two huge bird-head statues made of gold. They’re fifty feet tall, or more.

  Asantia passes by them and steers the boat toward a dock at the back of the harbor. The dock leads to stairs that end in a doorway. It’s an over-sized doorway framed by flat golden stones that have inscriptions on them, like something from ancient Egypt.

  Asantia releases the sails so they flap in the wind. The boat slowly coasts into the small harbor and bumps into the dock. Overlooking the dock is a tall pillar with a chair at the top occupied by a rotund bird that resembles an ostrich. Its feathers are green, orange and blue, similar to a parrot’s. It looks old. There are no feathers on its face, which is covered in a myriad of wrinkles and spots.

  “Only speak when spoken to,” Asantia whispers. “I’ve never traveled through these gates when I had my ship, but I’ve heard stories of Lyllia of Meduna. If you want to get where you’re going, you’ve got to be as polite as a monk. Otherwise, she’ll send you to the far edges of the universe.” Asantia looks up to the crowned, wrinkled bird. “Hello, Your Royal Highness. We wish to travel to Earth while the Earth flowers are still in bloom. Thank you for your patience and protection all these years. You look lovely today.” Asantia says in her most polite tone, which sounds alien coming from her.

  “Who is this with you? I don’t recognize this boy,” Lyllia of Meduna says.

  “He is my . . .” Asantia looks at Allan for a moment then back up to Lyllia, “friend. I want to help him get home, Your Royal Highness.” Asantia ties the boat to cleats in two places to keep the boat from floating away from the dock. She takes Allan’s hand, pulls him to the edge and lifts him out of the boat. Then, with his arm draped over her neck and shoulders and her arm around his waist, she slowly hobbles up the steps toward the door at the top. It’s a solid gold door with ornate edges and molding, large metal cross beams, and gears in the center.

  Lyllia holds out a wing. “These gates are closed to all that want to pass freely. You must earn your entry. Answer this riddle and you shall pass:

  A natural state, I'm sought by all.

  Go without me, and you shall fall.

  You think of me after you spend,

  and erode me when you eat to no end.

  If you go too slow or too fast

  you will not last.

  What am I?”

  Lyllia of Meduna leans back in her chair. “What does that mean?” Allan asks. He isn’t in the mood for games.

  “How should I know? I’ve never heard of answering a riddle to use the gates,” Asantia complains then sets Allan at her feet so she can rest.

  “You have fifteen flips of my coin.” Lyllia tosses a large gold coin up in the air. It flips and shimmers, its reflection flashing like a strobe light. Then she catches it. “One.” Then flips again.

  Allan puts his hands on his head. He can’t blow this chance. This door will lead him home. Without Asantia’s ship or spending days collecting flowers, it is his fastest way home. “Okay, a natural state, I'm sought by all. Go without me, and you shall fall. You think of me after you spend, and erode me when you eat to no end. If you go too slow or too fast you will not last.” Allan thinks for a long moment. Lyllia flips the gold coin for the sixth time.

  “What’s a natural state? Happy? Yes, people want to be happy,” Allan thinks out loud.

  “But you can’t spend happiness,” Asantia argues. They think as the ninth flip turns in the air.

  “Erode me when you eat to no end. What does that mean?” Allan grunts and smacks his hand on the step in frustration. Sweat trickles down his cheek.

  Flip twelve.

  “What are you? You’re an idiot, that’s what,” Asantia mumbles to herself. She’s staring off at the lake.

  Allan’s eyes pop open. “It’s balance. That’s the answer, balance. Your Royal Highness, it’s balance.”

  “Nope,” says Lyllia of Meduna. “It is greed.” She flips the coin in the air and catches it. “I just earned a nice little commission for stalling you.”

  An arch over the gateway door is topped by a balcony filled with odd looking plants and some wind chimes that start ringing out. Allan looks at them because something catches his eye.

  A column of black rises and twists like a tornado. The movement of the black is familiar. Beetles. The tornado bends at the top and lowers to the stairway, slowly forming into Jibbawk. It blocks Allan’s way home.

  Chapter 19

  Poison in the Water

  Rubic stands in front of a crowd of people whose faces he can’t quite make out in the dark even with all their lanterns and flashlights. Thick bandages wrap around his forehead and neck, and his arm is in a blue sling. It has been sixteen hours since the flood, the last time Rubic had seen Allan alive.

  Two rangers stand next to Rubic. A short, rotund ranger with a mustache speaks into a walkie-talkie. The other ranger, tall and solid, organizes the group into halves. The left half, eight people total, is an Amish family. They wear similar clothing. The women sport blue dresses, white aprons, capes and bonnets. The men have coats, straight-leg pants and wide-brimmed hats. Rubic thanks Larry for alerting the family. When they heard a child went missing they rushed to help.

  “Wittmer family, you take the north side of the river,” the tall ranger orders. The other half of the crowd numbers fifteen. They’re not Amish but a menagerie of characters as diverse as patrons in truck stops and roadside diners.

  “The rest of you take the south side.” With that last order the group begins the search. Flashlights and lanterns dance in the forest like colossal fireflies.

  The rotund ranger turns to Rubic. Thick eyebrows shelter his deep-set eyes. “We’ll find him. This is the fastest search party ever assembled. Thanks to Larry.”

  Larry smiles and swats the air toward the short ranger. “No trouble. I’ve been delivering mail up here for twelve years. Yup, I knew who would come an’ help.”

  The tall ranger listens to chatter on his radio. “We’ll also have dogs out here within two hours. Don’t worry, we’ll find Allan. He couldn’t have gone far.”

  Rubic nods and smiles even though he’s worried. “He can’t even walk,” he mutters. The tall ranger hands water bottles to Rubic and Larry.

  “Why don’t you think he was washed farther downstream than you were?” the rotund ranger asks.

  Rubic shakes his head. “He was with me for some time. Had to have been. When I woke up he’d built a dam around me. It diverted the water so I’d stay dry. It would’ve taken a while to build.”

  “Okay. So we’ll search downstream, but not too far. Our search pattern will include a five mile radius from where you woke up.”

  Larry pats Rubic on the back. “Sounds like Allan’s a smart cookie, yup. Maybe he’s made himself a lean-to and passed out for the night. It is late.”

  Past one o'clock in the morning, twenty hours have passed since the flood. Rubic isn’t naive. Being lost for this long is not good. He starts to hike up the river and Larry follows.

  “Try not to worry too much,” Larry says.
“How much trouble could he get into?”

  “I’m worried about how much trouble can find him. There are bears up here, and mountain lions, AND moose. Don’t moose trample things? What if a horde of bees stung him? There are timber rattlesnakes up here, too. Jeez.” Rubic calls out, “ALLAN!” No response. Allan’s name echoes off the trees, and the ferns shimmer in the cool night air.

  “He’s in more trouble than just being lost.” Rubic concludes after walking for some time. He sweeps his light over rocks and inside bushes and fern clusters and under logs. “His parents died not long ago. I can tell he’s on the verge of losing interest in his life. He won’t speak to anyone, not even me.”

  “Sounds like a normal reaction to a terrible thing.”

  “Some things that have happened to him are more than terrible.” Rubic starts to cry. He does nothing to impede the trail of tears tumbling over his cheek and melding into his beard hair.

  “The curse of humanity is the things we can think. Our minds can be so creative and so haunted at the same time. We must follow the light at all costs. Keep the darkness behind us. It may change and evolve. It will still try to get our attention, but if we keep looking forward, the dark will eventually be forgotten.” Larry says as he sweeps his light over dark bushes and numerous trees that look like telephone poles.

  “It takes so long to forget. You know kids. You’ve got a couple. Time goes by much slower for them. Allan has been gone for a long time, but to him it must feel like a hundred years.”

  Rubic shines a light on the trunk of a tree. He sees the red clay left by the raging flood. He wipes his finger on the clay. His finger collects a clump. “You say this flood happens every so often?”

  “Yup, ever since they dammed the lake at the top and the glacier started melting. First one was in the mid-fifties.” Larry points his light at the tree. “Looks like the flood left a high water mark on all the trees.”

  “Yeah, but...” Rubic’s mind is puzzled. He’s not a scientist of any sort, but he cannot shake the feeling that the clay is not a typical effect of flooding. He smells the clay on his finger then tastes it. He spits as fast as his muscles can retch. “Whoa! That’s weird.” His tongue starts tingling.

  “What is it?” Larry scrapes his own red clay from the tree trunk and puts it up to his nose.

  “Don’t taste it. Something’s not right with the clay.”

  “It’s dang red. Most clay has iron in it that gives it a red hue, but this is rather bright. My lord.” Larry stares at the red clay on his fingers, his brow furled.

  “It has a metallic taste. Very bitter. And my whole tongue’s numb now.” He measures the height of the waterline on the tree trunk. “Has it ever flooded this high? The water line’s probably four feet up.”

  “Don’t know. The lake holds quite a lot of water. I’m sure it’s normal.”

  “Okay, the amount of water’s normal, but what was in the water sure isn’t.”

  “Yup, I would agree with you on that, pardner.”

  Chapter 20

  Light in the Dam

  Rubic and Larry follow the river to the campsite and his overturned truck. The Wittmer family and some others finished their search and had come back to the camp empty-handed. The painkillers Rubic took have made him too weak to keep searching. His arm aches. His ribs thump. And deep breaths send shocks of pain throughout his chest. He’ll need to go to the hospital soon, but he refuses to leave with Allan still lost. To keep himself occupied while the dogs and the others finish their search, Rubic collects some of his gear from the mud. After placing a folding chair, a bag of clothes and his own washed-out lantern on a pile, he arranges for the Wittmer family to tip his truck back on its tires. They succeed easily. The roof is bent and slightly crumpled and the windshield is shattered, but there is still enough headroom to sit. The truck starts and runs then sputters and dies. With a heavy sigh, Rubic shuffles to the tailgate and, after popping the handle and lowering the gate, sits heavily.

  A female ranger walks up to him. Rubic recognizes her. “You’re the ranger that tried to kick me and Allan off my campsite.”

  She shrugs. “You should have listened to me. There’s a reason we do what we do. We’re not the bad guys.”

  Rubic looks away for a moment then back to her. “I guess so. I apologize.”

  She sits next to him. “How are you feeling?” she asks. Her eyes are kind despite their previous encounter.

  Rubic rubs his face, which tingles like he’s covered in tiny bugs. “Not fine. I’m getting more and more sick. The pain isn’t bad, but I’m starting to see things. Like light trails. I can feel my heart thumping in my veins like there’s a marching band inside me.”

  “Well, I’ve more medical training than the other rangers. Let me look at you.” She takes his pulse and looks into his eyes. “Your adrenaline is working its way out of your body, but you’re still in shock. I think it would be good to let me take you to the hospital now.”

  Rubic shakes his head. “Not yet. I can handle this. What I need is to find my nephew.” Rubic stands. He watches a truck pull up to the campsite. Two men unload the dogs from the back of the truck and head out.

  She touches his shoulder. “The dogs will find him. It will be okay. I’ll stay with you.”

  Rubic shakes his head and follows the dogs, Alice keeping up with him. “They gave me a handful of ibuprofen earlier, but it feels like morphine.”

  “Morphine is a little too strong to have in the first aid kit.” The woman ranger stops Rubic and puts her wrist up to Rubic’s forehead. “You feel hot.”

  “I feel hot. Like, I-want-to-rip-my-shirt-off hot.”

  She giggles. “Now we wouldn’t want you to do that.”

  “What is your name? I . . . forgot it,” Rubic asks.

  “Alice,” she says.

  “Alice, what else can I be doing? This shouldn’t be taking so long. He can’t use his legs. Where can he go? ”

  “I don’t know.” Alice takes his hand and holds it tightly. “We need to let the dogs find him. They’re faster at this than we are. We don’t need to follow them.”

  Rubic shakes his head. “Something isn’t right. It doesn’t fit. Allan should’ve been found a dozen yards from where I woke up. I know these mountains like the back of my hand. But Allan, he’s never even been here before.”

  “He’s young. Probably trying to get help. He could have dragged himself a long way.”

  Hours later, two dozen people or more with flashlights and lanterns return to the campsite. Hound dogs return as well. No one has any luck.

  The short ranger fiddles with his hat and approaches Rubic. “The search stalled at the base of a steep incline where the river flattens out. The water line on the trees was so low it would not have swept Allan any further.”

  “Why can’t the dogs find him?” Rubic snaps as he sways back and forth.

  “You need to sit down. That’s an order.” Alice helps Rubic to a large, fallen tree trunk.

  The rotund ranger approaches with a brown dog with white patches over his ears and friendly eyes. “Gary here’s a tracking dog. He’s trained to find specific scents. You don’t have any of Allan’s things so we were never able to get him a clear sample to smell. I’m sorry.”

  “Arrrrrrr! Allan! You get out here right now or you’re grounded.” Rubic cries out. He looks up at the stars. He can see the span of the Milky Way above him. The stars seem to dance and move around. They make patterns that rotate like those in a kaleidoscope.

  “And why is everything looking so funny?” Rubic says. He looks at all the characters that have come to help. “This is like a carnival show,” he mutters and starts to laugh for no reason at all.

  “Our search radius has more territory to the right because we assume Allan would try for the road.” Alice looks puzzled.

  When Rubic doesn’t stop laughing Alice pulls his chin down and shines her light in his eyes. “Your eyes are really dilated. Dilated pupils can indicate head
trauma.” She inspects the other eye. “Unless you’re on drugs you haven’t told me about. You need to go to the hospital. I’ll have to insist.”

  “Not without Allan.”

  “Dilated pupils can be the result of serious, potentially life-threatening conditions. You could have an intracranial hematoma, ruptured brain aneurysm, or have high intracranial pressure.”

  Rubic slowly looks around. He waves his flashlight back and forth. He shines his light at the crowd of searchers. One of them has a horse. It’s huge, looks furry and has a funny nose. The saddle shimmers in the light. Rubic knows he’s seeing things differently so he shakes his head vigorously. He sees a strange pattern in his vision. The leaves of a nearby bush look like a thousand clapping hands. What?! This is unreal. He squints and the hands dissolve into normal leaves. There are noises off in the distance and a faint sound of cheering. Rubic runs his hand through his hair. “I’m hallucinating.”

  “You took drugs?” Alice exclaims.

  “No. But I feel funny and I’m seeing things that aren’t real.” He remembers the taste of the red clay. “I’ve ingested poison.”

  Alice takes his wrist and checks his pulse. “Your heartbeat has quickened. What did you eat?”

  “Clay.” Rubic stands. He pulls Alice along toward the horse. When he gets closer, the shadow that made it look like it was furry like a wooly mammoth fades.

  “If you were poisoned you need to go to the hospital now. I’ll take you there.” Alice pleads. Her hands reach out and grab Rubic’s arm, but he pulls away.

  “I only tasted the clay.”

  “What clay?”

  Rubic shows her a tree trunk. She scrapes some clay off the trunk and smells it. “I see what you mean. This has a chemical odor I’ve never smelled before. It burns my nasal passageway.”

  Rubic rubs his temples trying to focus his mind. “We know the water came from the dam. The lake must’ve spilled a ton of water. Larry told me a flood had occurred a long time ago when a piece of glacier broke off and landed in the river. It must’ve happened again. Maybe twice.”