Luke looked around and the man was gone. Luke turned and looked in all directions, but he was gone. The lookouts were still in the trees, but the “Orion” man seemed to have disappeared.
Moon took Luke’s hands in hers. “I know you have many questions, and I will answer them soon; but right now, you have to come with me. Be cool and don’t go for your weapons.”
“Don’t go for my weapons!”
“Leave them all right here with your pack. They will still be here when you return. I promise.”
She had a Mona Lisa smile on her lips. There was nothing to do but trust her. As he dropped his pack from his back, he said, “We going to see the Mad Hatter or the Queen of Hearts?”
“We’re going to see the Wizard of Oz.” She laughed. “No Luke, we’re going to see the king of Frelonna”
Luke placed his bow and arrows across his pack. “I always wanted to see a king.”
Moon pointed to his tomahawk. Luke dropped it beside the pack, and they headed to see the king.
They entered a big log cabin. There was a large fire pit in the middle and a hole in the center of the roof that allowed the smoke to escape, just like a tepee. Large windows let light in, revealing drawings of stick men and stick animals painted on the walls. People sat on logs draped with animal furs. The king sat on a throne made of mammoth tusks and big furs. Luke thought of the mammoths out on the prairie—it was probably their cousin’s carcass he was sitting on.
The king had graying, red hair. He had no bones sticking from him like many of the other men in the large house, but his face had scars on both sides. It was no doubt to Luke, some big animal had once clamped its jaws around the king’s face.
Moon pulled Luke down onto a log directly in front of the king. The king sat there like a big toad with his eyes closed—maybe he was asleep. If that was the case, he could sleep through a bomb attack.
There were about fifty people—mostly men—in the cabin, and they were humming a monotonous seesaw tune. It was starting to get on Luke’s nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard when suddenly they began ramping it up. The few women began whistling bird sounds. The men kept up the seesaw tune, but louder and louder. Moon squeezed Luke’s hand. The sound grew. It sounded like a forest full of birds being hummed at by strange men.
Luke needed a cold beer. The weird was getting weirder. He knew he would wake up from this crazy dream any time now.
They stopped all at one time as if someone had pulled a plug or flipped a switch.
The king’s eyes flashed open—one of them was whited over.
Now Luke squeezed Moon’s hand and jerked back as if he had been slapped. He hoped this wasn’t like an old Tarzan movie where he would be burned at the stake or pulled apart by the natives.
The king stared straight into Luke’s eyes with his one good eye. He raised his left hand and said some mumbo-jumbo, and a half-naked woman came in with a fur robe and draped it over Luke’s shoulders.
Luke nodded at the woman and the king. “Thank you. Thank you.”
The woman went out the door and another appeared with a spear. She handed it to Luke. It was made of ivory with carvings along the length of it. No doubt, it was from a mammoth.
“Thanks.” Luke inspected the spear. It was a work of art. He wondered how they carved the designs in it. He started to ask Moon, but another woman came in with a shield.
She held the hide-covered shield over her head, spun around and did a little dance. Her breasts were bare, and Luke blushed. Moon giggled as Luke took the shield from the dancing beauty.
Luke turned to Moon. “Why are they giving me presents?”
“Because you brought the king’s daughter home.”
“King’s daughter? Home?”
“Luke!” the king’s voice boomed, and it startled Luke. Then he began a long speech with many gestures. Luke didn’t have a clue what he was saying, but he listened intently. Then the king stopped suddenly, nodded, and grunted. One by one, the women began the whistling again, soon followed by the men humming. The king stood and smiled down at Luke. Then he turned and went out of the building. The rest of the people stood and followed him out. And just like that, Luke and Moon were left alone.
Luke tried to make sense of what had just happened. He definitely was not in Arkansas anymore. He would not be surprised one bit to see the Scarecrow or the Tin Man at any second.
Moon took his hand. “Well, Constable, you received some nice gifts.”
Luke looked at the gifts again, then back up at Moon. This was all too much to digest. It was really a bad dream. Nothing else could explain it. First, he was fighting blond Norsemen, next he was sitting by “Maureen O’Hara” and being showered with prehistoric gifts from the original red-haired “Celtic-Indians.” All in all, it wasn’t too bad for a shy boy who spent most of his time in the backwoods hiding from strange things.
Luke took the robe off and set the spear and shield on the floor. He turned back to Moon. “What is going on?” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked squarely into Moon’s eyes. “Who are you? You’re more than a government agent.”
Moon smiled. She got up from the log and sat on the throne. “Okay, Luke, I will tell you what I can. I am a princess. My real name is Sha-She. I’ve been called Moon so long that you can keep calling me that.”
Luke shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Where was Alice and that cat?
“Look, Luke, I’m going to give you a brief synopsis. They are preparing a feast for us, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“I’m all ears.”
“This is my home. When I was twelve, I was kidnapped by the Scrain. They were going to sacrifice me at the big wind—”
“Big wind?”
“Yes. It’s how you and I got here, the portal. I escaped through the portal before they could kill me. I wound up in your world. You can imagine how lost and confused I was. I stumbled along scared and lost until I came upon a colony of free-thinking people, and they took me in.”
“Free-thinking? You mean, like hippies?”
Moon laughed. “I guess you could call them that. They were smoking weed and strung out on other drugs all the time. There was a full moon that night, so that’s how I got my name.”
“They taught you how to speak English?”
“Yeah, but I was only with them a couple of years. They were killed by a drug dealer. Then I became a ward of the great state of California.
“California? But we came through the portal from Arkansas.”
“I know that, Luke. Let me finish my story. I went from foster home to foster home until I was taken in by a very special couple.”
“They adopted you?”
“No. They trained me.”
“Trained you?”
“First, they studied me, then they trained me.”
“Moon, what are you talking about? Who were these people?”
“Luke, I had told everyone who would listen who I was and where I was from. Everyone just thought I was a kid with a big imagination, you know. This couple heard about me and took me in. They sought me out.”
“Who were these people?”
“They were scientists. They worked for the government.”
“What sort of scientists?”
“They were studying UFOs.”
“They thought you were an ET?”
“At first they did. But eventually they believed I came through a wormhole.”
Luke stood. “And they were right.”
Moon nodded. “At first they looked to the stars, but soon they became obsessed with transversable wormholes, portals between different dimensions. They studied about them and looked for them.” She rubbed her hands together. “Luke, these people weren’t nuts. They had the ear of people in very high places. They were given the money to pursue this. It was top secret from on high.”
“Moon—Sha-She—this is extremely hard to believe.”
“I told you, call me Moon. It’s the truth,
Luke. For goodness sake, look around at where you are.”
“If it was all top secret, why are you telling me?”
“Who can you tell?”
Luke sank back down to the log. Her words were like lead. He felt an immediate sinking feeling in his belly.
“I’m sorry, Luke.”
Luke nodded and waved it away. “Did they ever find this transversable wormhole?”
“No. They were killed in a car accident.”
Luke was numbed by the story. He sat there for a few minutes not saying anything, just letting it all process. Moon said nothing. After a while, Luke looked at her. “Moon, what government do you work for?”
She climbed down from the throne and went toward the door. “Come on, Luke; we are guests for the feast, and we don’t won’t to keep them waiting. I love smoked buffalo, don’t you?”
Luke stood, but did not follow.
Moon stopped at the door and turned back to Luke. Her smile slowly melted away. “I’m sorry that I lied to you.”
“Who are you?”
“I’ve already told you. I’m Sha-She, princess of Frelonna.”
Luke bowed. “I understand who you are here, Your Highness. But who are you in my world?”
Moon looked into Luke’s eyes for a long time, and then said, “I am Special Agent Moon Serling. I work for the government of the United States Of America.”
Luke nodded. “Special Agent, what was your mission when you found me?”
Moon just stood there for a minute and then said softly, “To find my way back home.”
Chapter 7
The king asked Luke—no, ordered him— to stay that night in a cabin with six other men. Moon winked at him as she followed a few women to some other place in the village. The men picked and laughed at Luke into the wee hours of the night, talking in a peculiar language that he had given up trying to understand. They tugged at his clothes and pointed at his odd, sandy-blond hair. At first he was angry with Moon for leaving him in such company, but later he reckoned it wasn’t her choice. The men finally grew tired of the fun and fell asleep on their stinking, animal-hide mats.
Luke tried to rest, but he could forget about sleep; a couple of the men fired up chainsaws. He lay there like a dog trying to find just the right spot to get comfortable, thinking of the lice waiting to take up lodging on his body. He scratched at imaginary bugs and maybe some that weren’t so imaginary. After about thirty minutes of suffering and listening to the loudest snoring he had ever heard, he went outside to get fresh air and quiet.
He found a log bench in the central plaza and parked there. He looked up to see the closest lookout in his perch. The man waved his horn at Luke. Luke waved back. The camp was quiet except for an occasional cough or snore that hit a particular high note and escaped through the walls of the cabin.
As the night closed around Luke, the weight of the last couple of days settled over him like lead. A few tears escaped his control and traveled down his dirty face—he didn’t bother to wipe them. This all cannot be real. This had to be an awful dream, and soon he would wake up in his own cabin deep in the woods of the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas. There will be no Agent Moon, no strange, blond people, no village of red-haired people, no other dimension.
A soft, deep rumble started somewhere in the distance and rolled through the village. It vibrated in his chest. And then came the trumpet of an elephant. Mammoth. Luke squeezed his eyes closed and fought for control. It was almost impossible to think about it. This couldn’t be real.
Luke dropped his face into his hands. How could this be true? Was he really in another world? He recalled how he had shunned many modern technologies. He had moved deep into the woods, hunted with primitive tools. He never used a GPS or compass to navigate the woods, only the sun and stars and moss on the north side of the trees. Oh, what he would give now just to have a radio, just to know there were other people—his own people—out there somewhere.
He wiped his eyes, remembered his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and powered it on. There were no bars—not one. Of course not—there were no cell towers. There was no electricity, no modern anything. He had thought it was the way he always wanted to live, and now here it was. Here he was.
He smeared his runny nose on his sleeve. There was no use crying, no use in self-pity. What would be the point? He gazed around at the sleeping village and then turned to the speckled sky. The stars were brighter than they ever were on the darkest night in the Ozarks. He studied the heavens—the stars were the same as back home. He was in the northern hemisphere alright. He found the Big Dipper and Little Dipper. He found the North Star. How many nights had he slept under God’s diamond-filled sky? How many times had he wished to live in the times before flight, before blinking lights of planes trespassed on the beauty of the twinkling stars? There were no lights here. There were no vapor trails during the day. The sky was pristine. The only movement in the dark heaven was an occasional shooting star with all its splendor.
Gradually, he felt an appreciation for what he was seeing. Man had not screwed it up, yet. Luke was still seeing nature in charge. Man was not altering the course of nature here, not conquering it as he tried to back home.
All of a sudden strange feeling corkscrewed up Luke’s back. There was something behind him. He didn’t have to see it—he felt it. His weapons were fifty yards away by the cabin door. He eased his hand into his pocket for his Swiss army knife; not the best weapon, but better than nothing.
“No! Don’t do it,” came a hard whisper from behind. It was the man who had spoken about Orion.
Luke pulled his hand from his pocket as the man sat down beside him. “Who are you?” Luke said.
The young man looked Luke up and down in the dim light. He ran his hands over Luke’s clothes. He yanked Luke’s badge from his shirt.
“Damn it!” Luke grabbed the man’s arm, but it was like grabbing steel. He let the man have the badge.
The man turned the badge to try to find enough light to inspect it. He soon gave up and gave it back to Luke. “We go.”
Luke put the badge in his shirt pocket. “Go where?”
“Orion.”
“What do you mean?” Luke stood and pointed toward the constellation. “That Orion?”
The man didn’t look at the constellation, only at Luke. “Get your things. We go.”
Luke looked up toward the lookout. He wasn’t there.
“Go now before he wakes up,” the man said as he placed his fist at his own jaw in a punching motion.
Luke looked around for anyone else.
“Get your things.” The man pointed toward Luke’s weapons. “We go to Orion.”
Luke hesitated. But here was a man that spoke his language. If he wanted to do Luke harm, he could have already. Instead, he was telling him to get his weapons and go with him. “What the hell.” Luke grabbed up his stuff. “I’ll at least look at your starship.”
The man moved through the darkness quiet as an animal, and Luke tailed him like his shadow. Luke had developed his “night eyes” and could have followed the well-worn trail through the forest on his own.
After a little ways, Luke stopped and looked back toward the village. He only knew two people in this world—he hoped Grace was still alive somewhere. Moon was asleep back there, and he felt as if he were betraying her. But then, he thought how she had lied to him. She was really an agent for the government, not some innocent local newspaper reporter. And there was no telling what branch she worked for, probably some shady organization. But he still felt as if—
“Come. We go now,” the man said.
Luke turned back toward him. “I’m going no farther until I at least know your name.”
The man stamped the butt of his spear in the ground and stood erect. “I am Adam.”
“Adam?” Luke was surprised. He was expecting some name he couldn’t pronounce.
Adam stepped closer and placed his hand to his own chest. “Like Adam in the Bible.”
Luke felt a sudden hope that he had found a way home. If this man knew about the Bible, there had to be a connection to home. There must be some kind of communication to Luke’s world.
“Now we go.” Adam turned and started back down the trail.
Luke tightened his pack on his back and shoved his tomahawk into his belt. Now he felt hope as he followed Adam through the dark woods and prairies. He imagined some crevice or canyon through a mountain that was lost to his world, but known to this one. It would lead him back home. He smiled. He dreamed up ways he would tell the people back home about this world, how he would convince the sheriff to bring his posse here to look for Grace.
Grace. Poor Grace. Where was she? They would find her. They would come back with bloodhounds. Hell, they would come back with helicopters and state of the art electronics to find her. And so he walked most of the night blindly following Adam and anticipating a way home and a plan to find Grace.
At daybreak, they were trekking across a prairie when he spotted a mountain range rising in the west. It looked like the Ozarks and he was giddy. Of course, they were the Ozarks and the path would be there. The canyon would be there. He was practically home. He pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”
They climbed the path through the foothills, and everything looked so familiar. It was almost as if he could remember some long ago hunt there. As he ascended, relief came over him like a sudden rush of air from a held breath, like waking from a nightmare and realizing it was a nightmare.
Luke called ahead to Adam, “Where is the canyon that will lead us back to my world?”
Adam stopped and turned. He realized what Luke was feeling. Luke could see it on his face. Adam slowly shook his head. “No canyon. No your world.” He turned and pointed to an outcropping with a cave behind it. In front of it stood a man with a long stick. He was a spitting image of Charlton Heston’s Moses. “Orion,” Adam said.
Luke’s heart dropped like a stone as he followed a narrow path up to the man.
Moses rushed to Luke and took both his hands. “Welcome! Welcome! Adam told me he would bring you. Now please say some English words so I know this is no dream.”
Portal to the Forgotten Page 7