“Initiate loading sequence.” The captain says.
“Initiate loading sequence, aye captain.” Comes the response.
“What are the readings?” the captain asks.
“Very positive reading, sir. It’s gradual, but definitely increasing.”
The captain nods his head. “Outstanding. Monitor those closely. Increase the levels if you need to, but notify me should anything drastically change for the worse. We want to make this one count, boys. We’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. As soon as the protective shields are down, and the port is open, we will bring our vessel into harbor!”
“Aye aye, sir.” Says the crew member. The rest of the crew cheers loudly, and the captain smiles.
“This docking is very important, so stay focused. It’s our duty to ensure that nothing disturbs this sacred moment. Sensor status?”
The crew member says, “A bit overwhelmed, but we are maintaining sir.”
“Good. Prepare the com unit.” Says the captain.
“Aye aye, sir!”
The captain grabs the microphone, switches the dial, and says, “Attention citizens of the great vessel Charley Ray Duncan! I bid you farewell and safe journey. You know your destination. You know your purpose. Good luck to all.” He turns off the com unit, and turns his attention back to everyone on the bridge.
“Prepare to load the tunnel on my mark.” The captain says. Everyone is standing by. “Load citizens in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3…”
“SIR, INCOMING HOSTILE VESSELS!” shouts one crew member.
The captain grabs the microphone and yells to the whole vessel, “Brace for impact!” He turns to the crew on the bridge. “Abort! Abort!” The crew scrambles to get things in order. The captain rushes over to check all the necessary gages, meters, readings, and levels. Then the lights in headquarters suddenly go out.
Everything is silent.
14
An Unwelcome Solitude
“What Have You Done Now, Piggy?”
A hideously loud voice forces me awake. I attempt to open my eyes and only the left one opens. The right feels like it is sealed shut. I lift my head off of the ground and try again. I blink a few times, and I’m finally able to open both eyes. Thank God! I thought it may have been swollen shut, but that’s not the case. Waking up with sand in my mouth is not a pleasant feeling. I move my head a little, and the entire side of my face burns as the rock infused sand paints my cheek with more abrasions. That really burns! I can feel a gentle breeze across my back. In a paradise setting this would be welcomed, but that breeze carries with it extra sand. I am not sure how, but the sand has managed to find its way into my underwear.
I raise up and sit up on my knees. As I look around and gather my surroundings, there’s no doubt that I am in the middle of the desert outside of Low Pobres. My town, however, is nowhere in sight. I swivel my head in all directions, and from horizon to horizon all I see is sand and rocks. An occasional knee-high shrub rises from the barren terrain, but there’s nothing anywhere around to provide shade or shelter. Random breezes blow here and there. Some even dip down and twirl the sand with an invisible finger as it passes. To sum everything up; I’m lost!
And it is very hot out here.
The sun is almost directly overhead. That would make it around noon. I could give credit to watching all of those survival shows, but this fact I have known since grade school. I am not a complete dummy; I just enjoy being lazy. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll have that luxury out here. I need to find food, a source of water, and somewhere to sleep. I just have no idea where to start.
I attempt to get up and stand on my feet, but a hideously loud voice stops me.
I collapse to the ground in a quivering heap. I cover my ears with my hands, but that doesn’t seem to do any good. The voice is so loud; I can’t tell who it is or where it’s coming from. It laughs at me with a low gravely chuckle.
“Look at you. You sit there in the dirt and dust waiting for a handout. That is all you have ever done your entire life! You have loafed around way too long, expecting others to carry your pathetic weight. Well, congratulations fat boy! This desert will be your grave!”
“N-n-no it w-w-w-won’t! I w-w-will show y-y-y-you!” I let out a scream, but that’s quickly interrupted by a fit of coughing. Thank you, dust. I push off the ground a little bit just so I can get my face out of the dirt. I look around in all directions and I don’t see anybody at all. Something is seriously wrong here. Or…I could be dreaming again. That would make sense. That’s primarily where I’ve heard that voice before. However, if pain is a prescription for waking people up, then I’ve surely had a healthy dosage within the last five minutes. I can’t be dreaming! But, where in the world could the voice be coming from then?
“This isn’t rocket science. You won’t find me. You can’t see me. For all you know, I’m just a voice in your pathetic little brain, piggy.”
“S-s-stop calling me that!”
“And, why should I? As the saying goes, ‘if the shoe fits’ am I right?”
“N-n-no!”
“Face the facts, fatty. You’re no longer wanted. You’re useless. You’re not loved. You’re all alone. Why else do you think you are out here by yourself?”
I say nothing.
“Smart man. Let me tell you how this is going to work. Since nobody wants you anymore, you’re free to do whatever you want out here. Nobody can hear you, and nobody can see you. To top it all off, there’s nothing out here. No food. No water. Nothing. The human body can only last three days without water. Based on your decrepit state, I’m willing to bet you don’t make it past two! We’ll see.”
I have to find water. I have to. I don’t want to believe the voice. I know there has to be water somewhere. I try to stand up again; only rising a little slower just to make sure. I manage to get up on my feet. I look around and take in my surroundings again, studying it carefully. I can see the tire tracks from the car that apparently brought me here. The sad news is that the tracks are so meshed together that it’s hard to tell which direction they came from, and which direction they went. The driver appears to have done a few random figure-8 patterns in the dirt. If there were tire tread marks, I might have a better idea of which direction they went. The wind took care of that evidence though, because now they only appear as parallel shallow valleys that swirl and dance together on the ground. Thankfully, there’s a point on either side where the tracks straighten out. One side leads to a spot on the horizon behind me, and the other leads to a spot in front of me. It would help if both were nice and straight. Nope. They both swerve to and fro. That doesn’t fit the pattern of most crime shows I used to watch on TV. Normally, the criminal would attempt to cover his or her tracks on the way in, but then they would leave in such a hurry that the exit tracks were a straight line. That made it easy to follow and figure out where they would end up. Why can’t this be predictable like TV shows?
All I can do is pick a direction and start walking. I am very thankful that the terrain out here is mostly hard compacted dirt, and not loose sand like the Sahara Desert. The short shrubs are not very green in color, but mostly pointy sticks that have joined together. The leaves seem to be more in the center of the shrubs. I walk over to one of the smaller ones, and I kick it. With very little effort, the bush comes out of the ground. Wow! These things are not well rooted at all! It’s going to become very hard to find suitable drinking water if the plants out here have a hard-enough time finding it themselves. I remember from some of my favorite western TV shows that you could find water in a cactus. One particular character had a long metal tube that looked like a straw; I forget what those things are called. He pulled a knife from his boot, cut out a section from the top, stuck the straw in and started to take a drink. Just thinking about that scene is making me thirsty already.
I have neither cactus nor straw, and I could really use a diet coke right about now.
Minutes seem like hours out in the desert,
as I check the sun’s position and it is still directly overhead. Thank you, sun, for being unhelpful. I really need you to move and start setting so that I know which way I am supposed to go. Now there’s a funny thought. Where do I want to go? Do I want to go back to my town? Or do I want to wander aimlessly only hoping to find another town that doesn’t know who I am? That’s an interesting thought. I should consider all of the options.
What benefit is there if I go back to my home town?
I will have my car that has never let me down; well until recently with the radio thing a few days ago. I have my apartment. Inside my apartment I have my comfy chair which sits right in front of my television. I have several food choices at my disposal. I have a marvelous bed that I sleep in. I will be in the comfort of my own place of familiarity. On the flip side of that, however, what are the cons of going back? There is the fact that Steve is no longer available for positive conversations, now that he is on his way to prison. The thrift store has burned down. All of my neighbors hate me. I am the laughing stock of my church. Mei Ling committed suicide because of me. Jeffers hates me and hired some goons to get rid of me. Putting more thought into all of that I think that I have come to a conclusion. Even with the few comforts of home that I enjoy, it’s not remotely worth risking my life over, now that I know for certain Jeffers is more than willing to make good on his death threat. The decision has been made.
There is entirely too much conflict, and I refuse to go back!
I check the sun again. I am going to assume that you, sun, have moved three inches to my right. That must mean that you’re heading west, because you always set in the west. Time to move. I’m going to the new town where nobody knows who I am. All they’ll know of me is that I’m some random fat man; who has been in the sun way too long and appears to be homeless now. I can live with that.
I start walking north, following the tracks that are going in the same direction. That must mean that my captors came from Los Pobres, dropped me off here, and then headed to Los Ricos. I wonder if that’s where they live? What if it’s not where they live? For all I know, they could live in a different city. After all, with Los Ricos being an expensive place to live, it does act as a connection hub for other cities around it. The two goons could quite possibly live anywhere.
For an old man like myself, this walking in the hot sand is for the birds. Thankfully it’s not loose like the beach sand. Had I been walking in that loose sand I would have broken a hip, torn my ACL, or maybe even fractured my rotator cuff by getting my toe caught in a small divot and falling on my shoulder which could cause a host of other injuries that could quickly turn me into buzzard bait. Since the ground is mostly hard compacted dirt, that makes the sand like a thin covering on top. It brushes aside easily, and it mostly accumulates around the base of the small petty bushes. This is also the same kind of sand that blasts a person in the face whenever the winds come in. I don’t like this sand. Speaking of birds, I don’t see any. That’s a clear sign that where I’m at, there’s no hope for life. If even the birds don’t want to hang out and make a place for themselves out here, then I don’t know of much else that would want to. That’s not counting snakes, scorpions, and other creeping things. Those things are the devil, and not a single one of them deserves to live in my opinion. I hate them all. Had it not been for that stupid snake back in the Garden of Eden, I wouldn’t be in this mess because there would be no sin. Therefore, all snakes must die.
Good gracious it’s hot out here! I feel like I’ve been walking forever. I turn around just to gauge how far I’ve walked. To my great disappointment, I would be surprised if I’ve made it further than half a football field. I turn to face my chosen direction of travel, and I keep going. I sigh heavily, and I place my hand on my stomach as it sighs heavily too. I haven’t eaten anything all day, and it feels like rolling thunder in my stomach reminding me that it’s empty. All I can do is pat my tummy to somehow encourage it that everything will be ok. According to research, people can sometimes go a full month without needing food. That’s a bizarre concept to me. I’m surprised I’ve made it this long! I surely thought that I would die if I ever skipped a meal. Yet, here I am walking through a desert and I have a strong feeling that it’s possibly after lunch time. I rub my cheek with my hand, and my eyes widen in shock. I have beard stubble on my face! I start to panic because I always shave every single morning. This isn’t good! I don’t like beards. I don’t! They’re itchy, and mine is patchy, and it doesn’t feel good, and it looks ugly, and I don’t like it, and I scratch it often, and what if I develop lice, and…
I stop and catch myself rambling.
It is really hot out here. I stop walking for a bit. I don’t want to turn into one of those typical mad men lost in the desert. Sadly, that’s what I’m turning out to be, I’m afraid. I have no food. I have no water. I’m lost. My whole body hurts. My head hurts. I reach up and feel my head where I was struck, and it’s tender to the touch. I jerk my hand back away from the sensitivity of it. I inspect my hand, and there’s no blood. I gently place my fingers back up to that spot and tip toe across my head. There is a large bump up there. As painful as that spot is, I’m grateful that it wasn’t the reverse. I think I would have had some serious problems had there been a crater in my head.
I keep walking…replaying the scene in my head where I was attacked right outside the church. I remember getting hit, and I remember falling down the stairs. I vaguely remember how I got in the car. This is puzzling me. If those things happen to me at my age, then shouldn't I have suffered more bodily damage? It’s all pretty confusing. I think I need to stop for a bit and check to see if there is anything broken; though I would have noticed it by now. I swivel my head back and forth to get a lay of the land, and to see if anybody is watching. There is not a soul out here except me.
I’m suddenly reminded of when my mother used to listen to her radio while she enjoyed her afternoon coffee. She always preferred it decaf with two cubes of sugar. She used to dip below the counter and come back up with a black labeled bottle. Contents of the mystery bottle would be added to her coffee, and she would sip, wince, and breathe a sigh of relief. With beverage in hand, she would sit in the den and listen to the radio and sing along with it.
“In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there aint no one for to give you no pain.”
She would weep. “Give me a desert so I don’t have to feel pain again!” Getting to this desert didn’t involve drinking coffee mixed with alcohol; as I later came to find out what was in it. However, this desert is bleak. Dry, barren, and unwelcoming are the first words to come to mind. There’s very little vegetation, and in the distance are mountains that stand as guardians on the horizon. The ground is dusty, and cracked as it silently cries out for a drink. Speaking of cracks, I need to check and see if I’m injured anywhere.
I think I will start with the top and work my way down. I remove my sweat shirt, check my arms, one at a time, inspect my chest, and my tummy. I push on my belly to move it to one side, followed by the other side. I lift up and feel underneath my belly, I don’t see any bruises, and I don’t feel anything broken or out of place. This is very strange. I put my sweat shirt back on. I remove my left leg from my sweat pants, but I decide to keep my right one in. I stand still for a moment, realizing how silly this is; standing here with one leg in and the other out, exposing my underwear clad bottom. What difference does it make if I just remove the other leg? I do so. This feels very strange, and very vulnerable. Maybe if I just do a quick check and hurry I should be ok. I lift my left leg and I check either side. Once again, there are no bruises or any painful spots. I check my right leg, and the diagnosis remains the same. I put my sweat pants back on as swiftly as I can; albeit with extra caution so as not to fall over.
So, if I was attacked and that led to me falling down some stairs, then there should be evidence of said fall. However, there isn’t. The only battle wound I have is the goose egg on my head.
It does not make any sense. However, I’m starting to realize that there are better times and places to try to figure out this mystery…someplace that isn’t the middle of a hot desert, and at some time when my stomach isn’t screaming at me. A part of me wants to attempt to figure it out, and the other part of me wants to just say “phooey” with it and move on. If I stand here, I will not be moving in the direction I want to go. If I choose the latter option, I will not come to a reasonable conclusion that would logically make sense. Oh, the choices that I face! This is almost as hard as choosing between discounted Twinkies and Swiss Cake Rolls. Speaking of yummy snacks, man, I could really go for some food right about now. Even if it’s just a small helping of malted milk balls, devil’s food cake, or a slice of regular cake; my tummy is demanding something sweet.
I admit defeat and keep walking. I check the sun again to see its position. It hasn’t moved much, but thankfully it’s still setting in the same direction, and I am still heading north. This is really wonderful news.
I walk on for several hours, and have realized along the way, why they are called “sweat shirts” and “sweat pants”. To me, the only purpose they served for me was comfort. Right now, this isn’t comfortable at all. My feet hurt. My legs hurt. My head hurts. My tummy really hurts. My mouth is dry and feels like I decided to gargle garlic powder. I need water! Sweet tea would be great, but that’s not going to happen out here. The sun is a few feet away from touching the horizon, and with nothing to block its view, it’s shining directly in my left eye. I think my squinting muscles on that side of my face are getting a workout because of the sun. However, with the sun going down, it’s starting to get cooler. I should think about stopping for now and resting. My whole body is sweaty and sore. I really need to stop.
Fate Of The Dragon Page 19