Return To Lan Darr

by Anderson Atlas

  Bella removes the bird from the oven and, after Martin removes all the books and papers, sets it on the table. It’s skin is peppered with seasoning and golden and crispy. Bella rips off a thick leg and sets it on Allan’s plate. Though the ripping out of the guts had turned his stomach over, the smell and his hunger vanquish the bloody image and he tears into the meat. It’s salty and good.

  The dinner ends an hour or so later. Allan knows all about Martin and Bella, and they know all about him.

  “The King Peeble said I would need a Wip-wap to get to the flowers? Are they the animals penned up behind the hut?”

  “They’re called Wikan-Waks. They’re such peaceful creatures and beautiful aren’t they? We will take you to the field of Hubbus. You can go to Katonaay from there.”

  Allan thanks them for the food. “I would like to get going. I’d like to get to Lan Darr as quickly as possible.”

  “Then we won’t keep you any longer,” Martin says.

  Allan rolls out the back door, which is a similar patchwork textile as the front door. He doesn’t know how long he’s been on Peebland, but it feels like all day. “Does the sun ever set here?”

  “Oh yes, but one day here equals two and a half Earth days. It’s different to get used to and the nights are just as long as the days, but we love it.”

  Martin and Bella lead Allan to a gate made of woven roots that is fastened to the fence by fibrous rope. The air reeks of cow poop so bad, Allan covers his mouth and nose. Martin unclips the gate hinge and enters the pen. There are six Wikan-Waks at the far end, munching on a large pile of purple cactus pads.

  The more Allan stares at the tall beasts, the less they look like horses. The Wikan-Waks tower above Martin, who pets the tallest one. They appear taller than giraffes with similar thin necks and narrow heads. They have white fur, browned by mud at the feet. Their legs are fat like an elephant’s, and they have ears that hang almost to the ground.

  Martin holds up a round object. The tall Wikan-Wak sees the object and turns from the others. Martin leads the beast to Allan and Bella. Snot drips down from the large nose, and it can’t keep its eyes off Martin.

  Bella grabs a leather loop from a side rack and whistles. The beast lowers its head and ducks through the loop. The loop falls to the base of its neck.

  “We’ve spent a lot of time domesticating these guys.” He shows Allan the object he’s holding. “They just love these salt licks. We’re trillions of miles away from Earth and these guys act so similar to horses, it amazes me.” Martin takes the ears and feeds them through two loops on the leather neckpiece.

  Bella connects the Wikan-Wak’s dangling ears together with clips tied to a wood handle. “We’ve discovered a novel way to get the creatures to move.” She points to the ears. “The ears are sensitive and we use them instead of reins. Tug them one way, the creature goes that way. Pull on them and it stops. It’s totally awesome.”

  “Normally, you could sit on the rump and control the reins, but we’ll put you in a cart and have it tow you.”

  The sheer size of the beast makes Allan nervous. It bends its head to Allan and nudges him, playfully. Its strength almost knocks Allan off his chair. “I don’t know how to drive a horse,” Allan says sheepishly, leaning as far away from the mouth of the Wikan-Wak as he can.

  “That was clear when you called it driving, dear.” Bella winks playfully.

  Martin, standing to the side of the Wikan-Wak, snaps the ears. The beast grunts and trots off around to the side of the hut, Martin following. A moment later, they return, pulling a cart made from the same thick woven roots as the fence. They lift Allan onto a seat that faces forward and then sit his chair behind him in the cart bed.

  “Geez, your chair is mighty heavy,” Martin comments.

  “It has a motor on it. That’s how I get around.”

  Martin and Bella inspect the chair. “Impressive. Has technology come so far on Earth? Are you all zipping around in flying cars, yet?”

  “Not yet, but they have hover boards and some crazy smart computers.”

  “Okay, dear, I think we should plan on visiting our home world one of these days,” Martin says.

  “You always say that.” Bella kisses him on the cheek. “But every time I try to plan it, you want to wait for some reason or another.”

  Martin grunts.

  “You’re all set, Allan Westerfield. Don’t be a stranger,” Bella says. “It was awesome to have you visit us.” She retrieves a worn and fibrous pointed hat and sits it on Martin’s head.

  Martin sits next to Allan on the cart bench and pulls the Wikan-Wak’s ears. The beast lurches forward. Bella holds the root-woven gate open and waves them through.

  Allan had never ridden in a wagon, but he’s pretty sure they aren’t as bumpy as this cart is. It jostles him up and down until his back is sore and his head thumps.

  Martin proceeds to ask more questions about Earth. Allan tries to remember the more interesting parts of history. “Yes, Kennedy went to the moon, almost got into a nuclear war, and then was murdered.”

  “So sad. Amazing America went to the moon, though. That’s a step in the right direction. I think it was summer of ’61 that me and Bella ended up in Katonaay.”

  Allan tells Martin as much history as he can remember, and the two laugh at the death and eventual rebirth of bell-bottom pants.

  Eventually, the Wikan-Wak descends into an overgrown valley. The plants are various shades of the rainbow. Giant pink Hubbu flowers cluster in patches a dozen feet across or more. Blue leafy flowers adorn yellow bark trees.

  Allan taps his pocket hoping, wishing there is a camera in there. He knows there are only tissues and house keys. “That’s really pretty.”

  Martin nods. “This planet is absolutely fabulous.”

  The cart startles a dozen Ulick birds from the bushes, and a stick bug as large as Allan’s forearm lands on his shoulder. “Ahhh!” Allan screams.

  Martin brushes the bug off. It leaps away casually. “The stick bugs are really tasty. You grill them up and scoop the insides out with a spoon. Tastes like bacon.”

  “Oh God.” Allan wipes sweat off his brow. “I can’t eat a bug if I know it’s a bug.”

  “If you tasted this bug, you would eat bugs for breakfast.” Martin chuckles. He stops the Wikan-Wak on the side of a large field of pink Hubbu flowers. He unloads the wheelchair and helps Allan into it. “Here we are. I wish you safe travels, fellow Earthling.”

  “Aren’t we called Borderites or something like that?” Allan smirks.

  “Something like that.”

  “Thanks for everything, Martin.” Allan shakes his hand. “I’ll try and come back for dinner sometime. As long as you promise not to tell me what I’m eating.”

  “Deal.”

  Allan rolls out to the nearest plant. He takes four large flowers and tucks them into his backpack. “Just sprinkle the pollen above my head?” he calls out to the patiently waiting Martin.

  “Yup. Try and give it a little spin. It works faster that way. Katonaay has all the colors of Hubbu there. You’ll be able to get to Lan Darr, Earth, or wherever. Just remember the colors.”

  “So remind me?” Allan asks.

  “Orange goes to Earth. Purple comes here. Pink to Katonaay. Blue to Lan Darr. There are combinations, too. Light green goes to Moosa, and deep brown goes to Plethiomia.”

  “Got it. Thanks, Martin.”

  Allan scrapes some of the pollen onto his hand, raises his hand, then flicks it into the air.

  The sparks are barely visible, but they work. Allan twists up like a pretzel and reappears on Katonaay. Pain wracks his nervous system, but it’s over as quick as it starts.

  Allan looks around and sees a jungle more colorful than anything he’s ever seen. Trees tower over his head intertwined by pink vines and blue leaves. A stream trickles by a few feet away, the water cascading over and around smooth golden stones. Birds chatter in a symphony of tweets and caws and cackles. The breeze is
cool and smells sweet, like cake.

  Allan smiles and raises his arms. “Welcome to Katonaay,” he mumbles.

  Above him floats a red balloon the size of a watermelon with a curly yellow string hanging below it. The balloon is caught in a leafy branch, its owner nowhere in sight.

  Chapter 13

  The Ladies Big Fight

  The handcuffs cut into Laura’s skin, drawing blood. She cringes and tenses up, trying not to cry anymore. Her mother is in similar pain, and they can’t get comfortable on the hammock. The sun peeks over the tops of the tall pine trees, and Laura guesses it’s around eleven o’clock. As the fire burns out slowly, it releases thick smoke, which seems to like getting in Laura’s face.

  Alice takes the pot of water off the burning coals and pours it into a thermos then adds so much instant coffee it would probably peel the paint off of metal. Alice spaces out for a few minutes, staring up. Laura worries that Alice has gone completely insane. If she has, dealing with her and staying safe got a whole lot harder.

  Finally, Alice turns to Laura. “Time to go.”

  Alice unlocks the handcuff side that held Laura’s wrist, but not Mrs. Domley’s.

  “I’m going with you,” Mrs. Domley says.

  “You’re staying here. I’ll leave you some water and crackers,” Alice says.

  “It has to be me. You can’t take Laura! Please!” she yells, spittle flying from her mouth.

  “I don’t need you,” Alice snaps. She yanks Laura off the hammock.

  Laura notices Alice’s silver-streaked hair is dirty and oily and her scalp is burned and peeling. Laura visualizes bashing Alice over the head and taking the handcuff keys from her. Then she could get Alice’s gun.

  Laura does nothing. She can’t do anything; she has no confidence in her ability to fight this woman. She’d rather her mother go with Alice so she could find a way to free herself.

  Alice tosses a large water bottle at Mrs. Domley and a box of butter crackers.

  Mrs. Domley bursts into tears. “You can’t take my little girl! Laura!”

  “You sit still and don’t scream. If little Laura does everything I say, she won’t get hurt.” Alice re-trains her gun on Laura’s chest. “You’ll do what you’re told, won’t ya?”

  Laura nods, tears spilling down her cheeks, still holding tight to her composure. “I’ll be okay, Mom. I’ll do everything she tells me to.”

  “Okay, girl. Let’s go get your boyfriend.”

  Laura is disappointed in herself for not trying to fight. The thought of fighting makes her dizzy and her blood run cold. Before this is all over, I will have to fight her. I need to be prepared to do that. The timing has to be perfect.

  Alice points the way and Laura obediently heads down a trail.

  “I love you, Laura!!” Mrs. Domley yells.

  Laura responds the same and continues down the trail. The large pine trees tower overhead like guardians of the mountainside. Should they reach down and pound Alice into the ground like a nail into wood, Laura would be eternally grateful. But they don’t. They’re watchful guardians only able to see time unfold and nothing else.

  At least I can look forward to seeing Allan again, if we find him. Is it unethical to help Alice locate him? Maybe. After a moment of thought Laura concludes that helping Alice find Allan will be wrong. Allan will be in harm’s way the moment we see him. I’ll have to stall her. I’ll have to be strong, for Allan.

  The hill becomes steep. The rock under Laura’s feet is brittle and filled with shiny mica. She stops. “I… need to catch my breath.”

  “No games, girl,” Alice snaps. “I’ve followed you and Allan a time or two on harder hikes than this. You’re stalling me and,” Alice presses the gun into Laura’s back, “I don’t appreciate it.”

  Alice unclips the police scanner from her belt and turns up the volume. She listens as they hike. After some useless chatter, dispatch says a runaway note from Allan is found at his house, and his status is changed from ‘At Risk’ to ‘Runaway.’ Laura becomes the focus of the hunt now.

  The two reach the top of the hill. Alice stops and stares at nothing again. “Ahh!” She aims at a huge fern and squeezes the trigger. BOOM! She takes one more harmless, though obnoxiously loud, shot into the bush. BOOM! Laura jumps inside like a pop cap. “Where is he?” Alice shrieks and turns to Laura. Her eyes are bloodshot and white saliva builds at the corners of her mouth.

  “I don’t know. Really!”

  “He’s found the flowers. I know it! Did you have a meeting place? Or would he use the flowers and leave you behind?” Alice shakes her head. “No, he wouldn’t leave you. You know something you’re not telling me!”

  Laura holds up her hands, afraid that Alice will hurt her somehow. “We weren’t speaking to each other. I… lost his diary at school and he was so mad… we weren’t speaking. Wherever he went, he went alone. I swear he didn’t tell me anything!”

  Alice’s anger eases up. She slams the pistol into the holster on her hip. “The police don’t know about the Hubbu flowers.” Alice taps her lips with her index finger. “So, if Allan used them, he would have disappeared, leaving what is left of the flowers in plain sight. After my daughter disappeared, all that was left in her stroller were those damn flowers.” Alice’s eyes brighten. “We’re going to lover boy’s house. We’ll sneak in when it’s dark and see if he left behind any flowers. Let’s go.”

  The two continue for a mile more and find the road. A navy-blue Jeep sits in a dirt pullout. Alice beeps the doors unlocked and pushes Laura into the passenger seat. “Sit tight.” Alice unclips her police scanner, powers it down, and tosses it into the console. She grabs a fishing box from the back, opens it, and pulls out a long-hair wig, two pairs of dark sunglasses, lipstick, and a thin, white sweater. “Put these on.” She tosses the items in Laura’s lap then hops into the driver’s seat, keeping a pair of sunglasses for herself.

  Laura slips into the sweater, the wig, and glasses, then applies the lipstick.

  Farther down the mountain the traffic piles up. A checkpoint is around the corner. Alice reaches over and adjusts the wig on Laura’s head. She pulls her pistol out of the holster and tucks it under her thigh. “You try anything…”

  “I won’t, I swear.”

  “Good. I won’t go down without a fight.” Alice’s eyes are as hard as granite.

  Laura can see Alice’s white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

  The line of cars advances.

  Laura’s heart pounds like a Taiko drum. She looks at herself in the mirror. The wig is long, wavy, reddish brown, and very convincing. The glasses are big and round.

  Alice flips open the glove compartment and pulls out eyeliner. “Here, over the years I’ve learned that if you distract men with something hideous they forget to look at the rest of you.” Laura isn’t quite sure what she means until after Alice draws a large dot on Laura’s nose. It looks like a hairy brown mole and is truly distracting.

  Alice stops at the temporary stop sign placed on the side of the road. There are two police cars and a ranger truck. A policeman steps up to the Jeep with his hands on his belt.

  “Good day, ma’am.” He looks at Laura, seems to see the mole, and looks away quickly.

  Alice is right; it isn’t polite to stare at something ugly. Laura can feel sweat saturate her shirt. She’s wearing Alice’s thin sweater and is in direct sunlight due to the Jeep’s open top. Don’t see me. Don’t see me, Laura repeats to herself. It isn’t because she doesn’t want to be found, she does. The time isn’t right. Not with a trigger-happy maniac right next to her. Laura will get away, but the fight isn’t here. It isn’t now.

  “What’re you doin’ in the mountains?” the cop asks as he peeks into the back seat. He eyes the fishing tackle box.

  “Oh, we’re with the university. We’re doing a fish study. Somebody’s gotta count those guys.” Alice produces a badge from the local university. The cop looks it over. He pauses and glances at Laura again.r />
  “What’s going on?” Alice asks.

  “Missing persons.” He hands her a flyer. “If you see either of these kids, you call that number.”

  Alice looks at the flyer. “Haven’t seen anyone all morning. We were up at Sheep’s Crossing. No one much goes up there. I’m sorry we can’t be of help.”

  He hands back the ID. The officer tips his hat. “Good day.”

  Alice pulls away. When out of earshot, she exhales in a moan. “Oh, that was too close. Almost a big mistake. All he had to do was take one more look at you and…”

  Sirens cut Alice off. She looks in her rearview mirror, cranes her neck to see over her shoulder. “Oh no. They’re coming,” she mumbles.

  Laura turns. One of the patrol cars has flipped on the lights and sirens and barrels toward them. Laura grips the handrail tightly. Alice pulls out the gun and points it at Laura. “Did you signal him?!” She cocks the hammer back.

  The cold sound of the hammer unnerves Laura. She pushes away from Alice as far as she can go until the armrest presses into her back. “No, I didn’t. Honest. I want to find Allan too!”

  The police car is right behind the Jeep now. Alice slows instead of speeding up and pulls to the side of the road. “You go down first. You hear me? If he knows anything, you’re dead.”

  The police car swerves around the Jeep and continues.

  Laura bursts into tears. She pulls off her glasses and cries into her hands.

  “Oh, not this again.” Alice puts the gun in its holster and speeds up.

  She flips through the radio stations and settles for a country song. “You did good! I’m pleased. You held up your end of the bargain. Keep that up and you’ll be home before you know it.”

  #

  Alice stops at a truck stop diner, and the two eat on the patio and watch the sun go down. Alice doesn’t speak much. She pulls out a notebook and writes in it. Laura tries to eat but can’t. The fries taste like hay, and her veggie burger is the consistency of a mud pie.