The Inner Movement

by Brandt Legg

  I thought about Amparo and knew she was right. It made me feel better. “I don’t ever want to live another life like that.”

  “We’ve all had many lives where we weren’t nice. Everyone needs to go through the good and bad, as it’s the only way to experience everything so that there is total understanding.” She placed her hands on my cheeks and softly kissed my forehead. “Now, get out of here, silly. Kyle’s looking for you.”

  “Oh my gosh, Kyle.” I started jogging. “When will I see you again?”

  “I’m around.” She laughed as I raced away.

  After the last turn in the trail, Kyle was walking toward me.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea I would be that long. So much happened.”

  “I wasn’t going to worry until you were gone at least eleven minutes,” he said sarcastically. He looked at me strangely, a look I was getting used to from him.

  “How long was I gone?”

  “It’s been like five or ten minutes since you got out of the car.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I’m not the one chasing hallucinations.”

  I tried to grasp how two days of my life could squeeze into ten minutes of his. It was beyond bizarre.

  “So did you catch up to the mountain lion?”

  “No, but it got me where I needed to go.” For the next twenty minutes I gave Kyle the highlights of my two days in the redwoods. Despite his usual sarcastic comments, he believed every word.

  45

  “Here’s for gas,” I handed him one of Mom’s hundreds.

  “Cool. We’ll fill up in Brookings.”

  I still wanted to find Spencer before we headed back to the lake. He knew more about Lightyear, and I needed his help in order to free Dustin. I was incredibly hungry, but there was nothing until the beach. After seeing the slum, I promised myself I’d never complain about being hungry again.

  After filling up with gas, we stopped for fish and chips and a six-pack of Coke then drove straight to the guardrail above Tea Leaf Beach. The trail was vibrant in the midday sun. I couldn’t help but think that a few hundred years earlier this forest connected to the redwoods. It was about one o’clock; Spencer was not on his boulder. We walked the beach in both directions calling out loud and silently. I meditated, asked seagulls, and went to the astral. Dustin was sleeping, Rose was as lost as ever, and Spencer Copeland was nowhere. He told me to trust the universe, but it wasn’t providing answers.

  We drove to the beach house after picking up supplies. Our plan was to return to the beach at sunrise. All I wanted was sleep.

  At the security gate, Kyle had punched the first two digits of the code into the keypad when the heat rush hit me.

  I grabbed his arm. “Something’s wrong.”

  “What?”

  “When there’s danger, I get outrageously hot, like walking through fire. Get out of here, now!”

  He threw it in reverse and sprayed gravel as we flew backward and hit a neighbor’s mailbox. I looked up at Amber’s house fearing they heard us but saw no movement. Still my temperature didn’t return to normal until we were well down the coastal highway.

  “How would they know you’d be at Amber’s beach house?” His voice shaking.

  “I don’t know. How do they know anything?”

  “Amber knew we were going there,” Kyle said. “She was the only one who knew.”

  “So, you think she’s a Lightyear agent? Linh knew, too.”

  “We need to figure out how they keep finding you.”

  “They have freakin’ psychics working for them, so how hard could it be?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Either way, they know we’re in Brookings, so let’s head to Crater Lake.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “We can be there by eight and get a tent up before dark.”

  “Why don’t we just sleep near Ashland so I can go to school? Remember school?”

  “You can leave the lake early in the morning and still make first period.”

  “Sounds fun,” he said sarcastically. “I guess I can handle it. But why back to the lake?”

  “Gibi said the answer to saving Dustin is there.”

  “Maybe we’ll see the Old Man again.”

  “So you do believe he was real?”

  “Sure. The Old Man was, but him being a floating tree trunk, that’s something else.”

  “Trees are mystical, and the lake is a vortex. It’s all part of the journey.”

  “Where’s this ‘journey’ going to end?”

  “Ask Spencer. In the meantime, let’s hope Gibi’s right about the lake.” I was silent for many miles. “Amber gave me a book on animal meanings, and it says when a mountain lion appears, it’s time to learn about your power. The mountain lion I saw is like a sign, a message from my guides. Her book talks about young cats learning by trial and error. So when a lion reveals itself, it gives its energy and traits to a person—in this case me—and says it’s time to assert and show my power.”

  “How are you going to assert your power?”

  “The mountain lion is one of the few animals capable of killing a porcupine without injuring itself. It’s developed a special trick of flipping it on its back to expose its vulnerable belly. It teaches that it’s time to make a choice, something we must do quickly and strongly. We can use our power to defend ourselves or attack with equal effectiveness.”

  “So, what’s your choice?”

  “Sanford Fitts is the porcupine.”

  “You’re going after Fitts? That’s crazy! I knew you were going to get all cocky.”

  “That man killed my dad, he’s holding Dustin hostage, my mom and Tanya are in the hospital, and who knows what he’s done to Aunt Rose!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’m only just now deciding this. The mountain lion teaches decisiveness in the use of our power.”

  “Nate, this is a trained government agent and by the very nature of him being that, it means there are others, lots of them, backing him up.”

  “I’m not going to wait anymore. He’s come after me three times. It’s only a matter of time before he succeeds. Spencer is wrong to wait. Where the hell is he anyway? It’s not like I’m going to do anything dumb. I’ve picked up a few centuries of wisdom in the last week. There are things I can do that I haven’t even told you about.”

  “Like?”

  I didn’t answer right away. “See that fire truck up there?”

  Kyle stepped on the brakes. “Where did that come from?” he yelled.

  “From your mind.”

  “It’s not real?” he shouted.

  It disappeared just before we passed it. Kyle pulled the car off the road.

  “Don’t mess with me, Nate.” He got out of the car and stormed to the trees.

  I went after him. “Kyle, I’m sorry, wait.”

  He turned around as angry as I’ve ever seen him. “Listen to me. I’m your friend, and I’ll help you and back you up. I’ve put myself and my family in danger for you. I’m with you in this supernatural, science-fiction world you’ve dragged us into. But you have to tell me right now that you will never again mess with my mind. I need to know that whatever I see is real.”

  “I’m sorry. You wanted to know what I could do, and I needed to practice and—”

  “Don’t practice on me.”

  “Never again, Kyle. I promise.”

  “My mind, Nate, it’s all I have.”

  “I’m sorry, I get it.”

  He gave me a shove. “Let’s get back on the road. Did I mention I’m also your stupid chauffeur?”

  “I know, and I never say thanks. I take you for granted, and I’m an all-around ungrateful, immature, self-centered jerk.”

  “You’re not a jerk, at least not all the time. Ungrateful and immature, maybe.”

  We both laughed and went back to the car.

  “So, you can make people see
things that aren’t there?”

  “Yeah, it’s done using one of the great powers called Solteer. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “As long as it’s not on me.”

  46

  I fell asleep for the last half of the drive. Kyle woke me as we pulled into the campground at Crater Lake just after eight. With not much daylight left, we got to work on the tent, and hammering down the last stake I heard a familiar voice.

  “It’s the boy with many guides,” Old Man said.

  “Hey, Old Man, I was hoping we’d see you.”

  “Because you need good wood?” he asked, holding out a box.

  “I need some advice, and yes, we want wood, too.” I fished a five out of my pocket, handed it to him and waved off his attempt at making change.

  “What advice could you need, Many Guides?”

  “It’s kind of a long story . . . ”

  “No, no, something has changed,” he interrupted. “I see the mountain lion in you, very strong.”

  Kyle looked at me and then at Old Man. “Unbelievable.”

  “Yes, you have been through fires since we last met.” He smiled slightly. “And now you return to the volcano.”

  “You know about the mountain lion?”

  “It’s your totem, one of the animals that will guide you throughout your life. Mountain lion’s traits are part of your power as you walk forward, wise leadership without ego and great intuitive ability. The mountain lion carries messages from humans to the higher spirits, a link to Mother Earth and Father Sky.”

  “Sounds about right,” Kyle said.

  “This totem means you’re a leader. Others will see your power and follow you. The lion in you tells them to go in your direction, if they choose, but not in your footsteps. The path they follow must be their own. A mountain lion pushes her young toward independence. She remains vigilant if they need help but allows them to find their own way. This is how to lead.”

  “I’ve never been a leader of anything,” I said. “Can animals really pass on their traits?”

  “Mother Earth and all her creatures will teach if they’re honored. Mountain lion has granted you nearly perfect balance, shown the way to conserve your energy and how to recognize the importance of timing. A mountain lion does not hesitate when it attacks. Do you know what I’m saying, Nate? It goes for the weakest place of its target.”

  I moved my gaze to Kyle; we both knew what he meant. Sanford Fitts was my target. Where was he vulnerable? Could I choose the right time?

  “I have more wood to sell. But you and I have an appointment tomorrow. Don’t be late,” he said and walked off.

  “Wait, when? Where?”

  “You’ll find me.” He was gone.

  An hour later Kyle and I were sitting around the fire, pondering the two objects from my dad’s desk, determined to figure them out. I’d already tried reading them and again with no luck. Kyle held the wood piece and I the gold box when Old Man showed up again. He’d finished his wood-selling rounds.

  “Here are a few scraps I had left over.” He handed over some old two-by-fours. “You may need them, going to be cold tonight.”

  “Thanks. Any idea what this is?”

  “Looks like a gold box to me? Sure is a pretty one. Maybe Mayan.”

  Could there be a connection to the lifetime with my dad and the Conquistadors, I wondered. “I want to know what’s inside.”

  “Why? It feels empty. What you want is probably on the outside. The patterns of the inlays are the message.”

  “Do you know what it says?”

  “No, the message is for you. You must discover it.”

  “What about this?” Kyle threw the carved piece to him.

  He gave it a quick look. “This one’s easy.” He tossed it in the fire.

  “Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I tried to pull it out but it was too late.

  “Let it show you,” he said calmly.

  We watched the wood burn away. The ends melted like a hard brown wax, and there in the fire a shiny silver key emerged from the burnt wood. I quickly fished it out with two sticks and let it rest on the ground to cool. It was no ordinary house key, but old, like three keys pressed together.

  “What’s it go to?” Kyle asked.

  “How should I know? It’s not my key,” Old Man answered.

  “How did you know it was in there?” I asked.

  “The outside carvings revealed that what you’re looking for is inside.”

  “It just looked like a bunch of leaves and symbols to me.”

  “Languages aren’t always words,” he said, walking toward the trees. “Sometimes what you think you need to go after isn’t always what you really need to be going after.” He disappeared into the underbrush but yelled back, “Strategy, remember?”

  It wouldn’t be long before I learned what the strange key unlocked, and it would turn out to provide my best chance for survival.

  47

  Monday, September 29

  The rising sun warming the tent woke me. I vaguely remembered Kyle leaving hours earlier while it was still dark. By now he’d be at school, having driven more than two hours to make the morning bell. Finding a soda in the cooler, I decided on a breakfast burrito and managed to heat it on the propane stove.

  I hiked around the lake in search of the Old Man. Every so often I tried to get a signal for my cell phone to call my mother and Amber, but there was no reliable service.

  Soon it was obvious I was being followed. There was no heat so it probably wasn’t someone dangerous, but there was no reason to take chances. I broke into a run. After a quarter-mile sprint, it seemed safe to look back. I turned, crashed into the Old Man, and fell back on the ground.

  “Blast! What’s the matter with you? First you haul off and run away from me like a scared rabbit, and then you knock into me and fall on your ass. Are all teenagers this dang foolish?”

  “Why’d you sneak up on me?”

  “I don’t sneak. This is my place.” He swept his arms in a grand gesture.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “You’re late.”

  “Why are you so grouchy?”

  “Why are you so ornery?”

  “I’m reacting to your mood.”

  “That’s foolish. Why don’t you learn to control yourself instead of letting others determine how you feel?”

  “Okay fine, I’m in charge. I’m not looking for lessons right now. I need help rescuing my brother. Can you do that?”

  “Every word I utter in your presence will help you get your brother because it will help you grow into someone who can do such things. Are you going to listen, boy?”

  “You seem so angry.”

  “I’m the Old Man of the Lake, remember? I’m just a reflection. A reflection of you.”

  I took a deep breath and thought of Thich Nhat Hanh’s words, “Just because anger or hate is present does not mean that the capacity to love and accept is not there; love is always with you.” Maybe the Old Man was right and he was a reflection of me. I was definitely angry, and it had been building for years: my dad’s death, Dustin’s imprisonment, Mom’s disconnect—my family had left me all alone. And in the last few weeks everything had accelerated with my finding out about Dad’s murder, Aunt Rose’s kidnapping, Mom’s accident, the attempts on my friends. Why? I’d done nothing wrong, committed no crime, and yet I was being hunted and those close to me hurt. I wanted my life back, wanted my dad back. Damn right I was angry. The Old Man was pulling it out of me, showing it to me. I screamed, a loud visceral sound.

  “Good boy. Get it out! Better than taking it out on me.”

  “Why?” I screamed again, sinking onto a log and burying my face in my hands.

  “Are you going to cry now?”

  “No.”

  “Good. By now you’ve figured out you’re no ordinary boy, so all that’s left for me to do is guide you to some answers for questions you ain’t thought of yet.”

  “My brothe
r?”

  “We’re not going to start that again, are we?”

  “Patience?”

  “Yeah, patience. Good to see there is a brain in there somewhere.” He lightly knocked on my forehead. “Can you walk?”

  “Of course I can walk. I’m emotionally damaged, not physically damaged.”

  He winked and led me down a very steep cliff, impossible without Skyclimbing. At the bottom he moved between two evergreens to a small sheltered cove in the cliff, about twenty feet above the water. “Sit,” he said, pointing to a slab. “This lake is the center of the universe.” He began lecturing like a professor. “Not actually, but it is as far as you’re concerned. You have much ahead of you and I’m far from convinced you’ll last, but it’ll be fun to watch you take a shot. You’re brave to try, I’ll give you that, boy.”

  “I don’t remember deciding to try. It was sort of thrust upon me.”

  “Circumstances define the man. No one wakes up and decides to be great. It’s the events he’s thrown into that determine if he is truly great. Survive or not is to be great or not.”

  “I’m not doing anything until I get my brother and aunt back. How is what you’re saying going to help me get them?”

  He ignored my question. “It’s begun, boy. Too late to turn back now, as it’s already begun.” He squinted at me and paced for a couple of minutes. “You’ll encounter fifteen mystics.”

  “Why so many?”

  “If you stop and think how much there is to learn, you might ask why so few.”

  “Maybe you could explain exactly what a mystic is.”

  “It’s someone who pursues awareness by searching for ultimate reality, the soul. This quest for spiritual truth is from within as he seeks experiences through instinct, intuition, and insight. A mystic grows closer to its soul by sharing knowledge with others on the path.” He stopped speaking, I assumed, to allow me to absorb his words.

  “You’re a mystic, aren’t you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m the first one you found. And you were more than early. I’m not talking about a week early. Originally, you weren’t due here for fourteen more years. But some series of unknown calamities in the world forced this premature debut.”