by Brandt Legg
It took almost three hours to answer all of their questions. Telling it like that, for the first time from beginning to end, was extremely illuminating. I saw how incredible it all was, the magic and synchronicity of it. My mother was moved. There were tears in her eyes, and a look of love, but she knew I had to go. Dustin stood up and walked to the window, then turned to Mom.
“I’m not crazy. I was never crazy. It wasn’t the drugs.” He was shaking. “It was your fear and close-mindedness that took two years of my life.” He pointed at her. “They gave me meds that probably aren’t even approved for the normal population. I lived for two chemical years, hidden from the truth—my truth. If it weren’t for Rose, I’d probably be a vegetable by now. And she’s dead.” He glared at her. “Forgiveness? I guess if Nate can forgive the Nazis or whatever, then I can forgive you eventually. But the real question, Mom, is how are you ever going to live with yourself?”
67
Monday, October 6
We were ready to go at sunrise. Mom brought a cooler filled with Station sandwiches, desserts, and sodas. She also handed us each a handful of cash and two “clean” phones. She and Josh brought over Dustin’s truck. “We had it tuned up. It should do well for you.” Josh handed Dustin the keys. “Remember how to drive?” he joked.
“I’ll figure it out. Nice shirt, Josh.”
He smiled, proud of his neon purple tee.
We had mostly said goodbye to Mom the night before. Although it was still tense between her and Dustin, we kept it cordial and were very relieved to be on the road.
“I can’t even tell that you haven’t driven for two years,” I said, while heading up the Siskiyou Pass.
“Only because I haven’t opened my eyes yet.”
“So, are you going to tell me what’s at Shasta? I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
“We’re not going to try to take a long nap above snowline are we?” I said with a smile.
“You do know Mom got that mixed up. I was never trying to kill myself, just trying to get back to what I want to show you. I’d have come home . . . alive.”
“Two years in Mountain View over a misunderstanding . . . ”
“It was a complicated time. I was pretty confused. You’ll see.”
“Mom regrets it now, I think.”
“You know, every time Mom visited she brought me sandwiches and desserts from the Station. It may not seem like much, but it was a connection to home, to the real world . . . I looked forward more to the food than seeing her.”
Heading down the other side of the pass, a flagman waved us to a stop. Vehicles lined up. The flagman was staring at us. He stepped toward our truck and motioned Dustin to roll down the window.
He broke into a big smile, “Dusty, Dude, where you been?”
“Crowd, I don’t believe it!” Dustin shouted.
It took me a moment. He had much shorter hair under his hardhat and a blaze orange safety vest worn over clean clothes, but it was definitely Crowd. I couldn’t believe it either.
“Nate, I forgot how much you two favor each other. You guys headin’ up today?”
“Yeah,” Dustin said, “And I thought I’d have to find it myself. Can you remind me of the second and third signs?”
“Sure. You know when to leave the trail?”
“I think so.”
“Yeah, you do. You’ll remember. Then there’ll be a hawk perched on a naked tree, the first sign.”
Dustin nodded.
“Good. Then after some time you’ll come to a rock outcropping, the second sign. It’s hard to say how far until you reach it because it moves, but you’ll recognize it. Finally, you’ll find the third sign, a spring, and from there you’ll have to feel it.”
The instant he finished speaking, a call came over his radio and he waved us on. “See you,” Dustin shouted.
“I’m stunned you know Crowd. Where did you meet him?” I asked.
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Wow, you really were doing some powerful drugs back then.”
“True, but that’s not why I don’t remember him. You should have a sense of what I’m talking about, from when you thought you were going crazy, too. But for me, it was a bit messier because as soon as I started hearing voices and seeing colors and all that stuff, I started drinking more and experimenting with drugs. Part of me wanted it all to stop, and another part wanted to go and see what I could see, get all Alice-In-Wonderlanded out.”
“Take a long strange trip?”
“Yeah, I mean I didn’t know it was all connected to the soul at that point. I didn’t know what was happening, and then it started really getting weird. Yesterday would happen in the middle of my English class, with bits of tomorrow and today all mixed up.”
“Time’s a funny thing . . . ”
“There wasn’t anything funny about it to me. I was losing it, didn’t know what was real or when was when. Then I met a few interesting characters who seemed just as lost as I was. And one of them was Crowd. But I can’t sift through the psychedelic stupor of those months and the haze of Mountain View to figure it all out.”
“But you remember going to Shasta with him?”
“Well, parts of it, anyway. He wasn’t with me that final night. We did go together the first time. But, Nate, it was so fantastic that until I saw Crowd just now, I wasn’t sure it was real. That’s part of why I didn’t want to tell you anything about it because we might get there and it would all just be trees on a mountain.”
We were flagged to a stop again just outside the town of Yreka. There was some minor work being done ahead. Amazingly, it was Crowd again.
“Yo, Ryders Deux,” he greeted us.
“You’re gonna get me sent back to the psych ward if you keep doing stuff like this Crowd.”
“Well, we didn’t get to finish our talk so I . . . you know they needed some work down here, too.”
“Hey, Crowd,” I began. “How do I thank you for San Francisco?”
“No need, just doing my job.” He smiled wide, but his eyes shone something else—sadness?
“Crowd, what’s up? Nate tells me you’re a mystic. How come I never knew?” Dustin asked.
“Just depends where you are on the road, know what I mean?”
Dustin shook his head.
“It’s good to see you finally decided to get a job,” I joked.
He laughed hard. “Gonna save up for that house above the boulevard, don’t you know?”
“So, since we’re seeing you again, you must have more things to teach us?” I asked.
“Yeah, first we’ll start with fly fishing and then rope climbing and then . . . ”
I gave him a look.
He started laughing. “Ain’t it obvious?” I’m the guide.”
“I thought all the mystics were guides.”
“A common misconception. No, they’re just ordinary mystics. I’m not only a mystic—and quite extraordinary, I must say—but in addition, I’m your guide.”
“I only have one guide?”
“My goodness, you’re not getting this are you? You have many guides, but they’re either not currently in the earthly realm or if they are, you’ll have only fleeting encounters with them. I, on the other hand, am quite available on an ongoing basis.”
“Is there a fee for this?”
He laughed hard. “A fee? You’re almost as funny as Dusty, and you’re not even on anything, are you?”
“I’m not either,” Dustin broke in. “Unfortunately.”
“So, are you a guide for both of us?”
“Sure am, I get a two-for. I’m very efficient that way.”
“Can you guide me to other mystics?”
“Well, not specifically, but my job is to help keep you on your path, so if meeting them is on your path, then yes.”
“Want a sandwich?” Dustin offered.
�
�Hey, is that a Pink Floyd? I love Pink Floyds. Did you get it with extra pickles and extra lettuce?”
“You eat at the Station?”
“Well, their dumpster mostly.” He smiled, shyly.
A state trooper came from the opposite direction and slowed to look at us. I thought it was over, but he kept moving.
“You boys need to get to the mountain.”
“When can we talk?” I asked, as we started rolling. “I need to know about finding other mystics.”
“Depends on traffic.” He laughed, waving the flags dramatically like he was guiding a landing plane. “Maybe tomorrow. But Nate, remember, time’s a funny thing.”
Mount Shasta is a stunning peak more than 14,000 feet above sea level, and although it’s part of the Cascade Range, it isn’t connected to any other mountains. Instead, it rises dramatically 10,000 feet above the surrounding terrain and appears a majestic spirit. Every time it came into view, I remembered what the naturalist John Muir said: “When I first caught sight of it over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley, I was fifty miles away and afoot, alone and weary. Yet all my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.” I had more than two hundred photos of Shasta taken over the years, always a favorite subject.
The peak is actually composed of four volcanic cones, home to several glaciers, snowcapped year-round, and shrouded in mystery. The Old Man had told me there is a powerful portal on the summit, but Dustin and I weren’t planning on that kind of trek. I knew the stories: the region’s Native Americans believed the Great Spirit lived in Shasta, while other tribes have talked of “little people” who dwell in the forest on Shasta; more than a century ago, tales surfaced about descendants of survivors from the lost continent of Lemuria, some even claimed proof it’s a landing base for starships; there are books describing the higher-dimensional city of Telos, located inside the dormant volcano; some give first-hand accounts of meeting its inhabitants either within or on the mountain; and even more spoke of Ascended Masters, subterranean tunnels, and even encounters with Bigfoot. Mount Shasta is one of the most mythical places in the Western Hemisphere, and for that reason, it attracts seekers, sages, and quacks.
We followed a trail for twenty or thirty minutes before Dustin decided it was the right place to cut into the woods. About ten minutes later, we found the naked tree and sure enough there was a hawk perched on a branch about two-thirds of the way up. It flew away as soon as we approached. It was a long time before we came to the outcropping, and I was worried we had gone too far until I saw Spencer sitting on the biggest stone.
68
“Last time I saw you, you weren’t looking so good.” Spencer smiled.
“Last time I saw you, I was angry. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s forgotten. I know this has been tough on you.”
“Not the part where the prettiest girl in school falls for him,” Dustin added.
“Dustin, this is one of Dad’s oldest friends and a mystic, Spencer Copeland.”
“I remember you from Dad’s funeral. You told me that the world may have lost a great man, but Dad was not really gone. His spirit was still with us.”
Spencer nodded.
“I think you started me on the road to insanity.”
“I didn’t know you were at the funeral,” I said.
“Oh yes, I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“But Fitts was there, too. How did you avoid him?”
“He didn’t know what I looked like.”
“Really? He’s been after you for years. How could he not know what you looked like?”
“Simple. We’ve never met.”
“Fitts is dead, right?”
“Yes, in human terms, anyway.”
“Great,” I said with a sigh. Would there ever be closure?
“How come you didn’t know Fitts was actually my neighbor?”
“I’m sorry to say I don’t know everything. I did pick up that Fitts was watching your house, on and off over the last few weeks, but I had no idea he was living there, too.”
“When did you discover that?”
“Not until I was healing you on Trevor’s boat. I read it in you.”
“How’d Crowd get Amber and me out at the same time?”
“It’s called bilocating. He was in two places at the same time.”
“Cool,” Dustin said.
“Where are the other mystics I’m supposed to meet?”
“There are far more mystics than you think. People walk among mystics during their normal lives and never know it. You’ve met dozens, and they help you, but it’s not the same as actually being instructed by them.”
“More to learn?”
“Unimaginable things. Even more remarkable powers await you. Both of you can move toward your soul and—”
“Is it really possible to reach it and be just that—no more human clutter?” Dustin interrupted.
“No one knows for sure, but I believe it completely. And the closer you get, the more you’ll believe it, and the journey is so . . . I don’t think a word exists that can adequately describe what it’s like. It’s pure life; it’s everything. If you continue to look for the answers to the great questions—why are we here, where did we come from, what is the universe, how powerful is love—you will find things that even now you couldn’t begin to dream of. Doesn’t that excite you?”
“It does, and as you once told me, I don’t have a choice anyway.”
“I want to see it all,” Dustin added.
Spencer smiled. “Once you’re done here, meet me at an island called Cervantes, and I’ll explain what’s next.”
“Where is it? How will we find it?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“Do you live there?”
“No, I prefer more modest lodgings.”
“Then how will you know we’re there?”
He smiled modestly and cocked his head as if it should be obvious by now.
“Thanks, Spencer.”
He extended his arm. We shook hands, and our eyes spoke for a moment.
“It’s I who should thank you, Nate.”
“No.”
“I’ll see you another time.” He walked away and, once the trees blocked our view, he did not reappear.
Crowd was gone. Spencer was gone. It was just Dustin and me. All the hikes we’d done growing up together—with and without our dad—came back, as our bond was like no other. And being among the trees always left me at ease with a sense of peace.
“Do you hear that?” I asked.
“What?”
“It sounds like a helicopter.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
We weren’t far from a clearing; I moved toward it, Dustin followed. “I hear it now,” he said. “Definitely a helicopter.”
We stayed in the trees and looked through the opening toward the sky. A minute later there was a black military chopper flying just above the treetops. It made several passes, but we were convinced they couldn’t see us.
“Maybe we should bail?” I said to Dustin.
“And go where?”
Minutes later, it was hovering a few thousand feet behind us.
“They’re looking for us,” I yelled to Dustin.
“We’re almost there.”
“Here!” I shouted, as I saw the lush patch of greenery surrounding the tiny spring.
“Okay, we’re close.”
The chopper was loud and my temperature was rising. Six soldiers slid down ropes into the woods.
“Dustin, look!” I was terrified.
He glanced back, only for a second.
“They’re here for us. We’ve gotta run,” I screamed.
Dustin was too busy searching for whatever he was looking for to run. Although we were moving away from them and still seemed hidden, if we didn’t increase our pace, the soldiers would have us in minutes. They obviously had some way to track me because they knew we were on the mountain and had narrowed their
search from the 2.2 million acres of wilderness to a half-mile radius. I thought with Fitts gone, Lightyear would disappear. Was running going to be my life?
“Dustin, we have to hide somewhere.” They now blamed me for the death of an agent, and that was added to the long list of other reasons to eliminate me. Kyle was right. They would never run out of agents. There weren’t enough places to hide. How long could I run? I needed a plan. Strategy, Old Man would call it.
Soldiers were getting closer. The heat was suffocating.
Was there any way I could beat Lightyear? If I didn’t find a way, I would die, probably soon. Then, I remembered something someone said: to defeat darkness you must expose it to the light. I would have to find a way to expose Lightyear.
“This is it! Are you ready?” Dustin suddenly yelled.
“This is where you’ve been wanting to get back to? This is what you almost died trying to reach that night? You got locked in an asylum to get to this spot in the woods?” I screamed.
“It’s not just a spot in the woods.” I could barely hear his words.
“That’s what it looks like to me.” I gazed around. It was like the rest of the forest, pretty but nothing extraordinary. A second chopper approached. “We’re dead.”
“Are you ready?” he repeated. Something in his look made me feel as if we were about to do something remarkable, like ancient explorers sailing into the unknown, off the edge of the world, Yuri Gagarin hurtling into space in 1961. But we were just two teenagers in the middle of a pine forest on Mount Shasta.
I could see soldiers through the trees; they hadn’t spotted us but were within a few hundred feet now. The helicopters were thunderous, leaves whipped from the giant blades.
“Yes. I’m ready,” I shouted.
He reached his arms high above his head. For a moment, his hands appeared to be grasping for something, almost swimming in slow motion through the air. There was nothing I could see. Then he smiled. His arms moved apart and with them the air separated like a curtain. He held the invisible veil open, and inside I saw an entirely different scene than the trees and shrubs surrounding us. Through that seam was not an ordinary portal like the other two I’d been in, which were merely passages. This was another place all its own, some undiscovered realm, a channel into a secret world. I looked at Dustin questioningly.