by Micah Thomas
An impossibly loud sound and Henry’s slow-motion laugh echoed, reverberating particles carrying into Thelon’s perception. Yet, Thelon could not move. Could not act. He screeched silently against his paralysis.
Nestor! He called. T!
Neither replied and as he prepared a new prayer, this time to God or whatever Gods were listening, but his own body answered his demand. With a blur of red light, his energy shifted on its own, and with it, the entire universe rearranged itself around him. Everything was the same. Thelon knew this to be true, but he’d been freed from the dependency of sight and sense— even time.
This is not what it appears to be. Thelon knew this farce. It was a setup. A facsimile of an event crafted to do this to him. Thelon wanted to break whoever had hurt Henry and put Cassie in danger for this strange goal. Are you watching? Thelon waited and sensed but learned nothing.
Time was up. The entities vibrated and hummed with menace and Thelon focused his attention on them. Time to deal with the ghosts. He propelled himself, a gust of his own air, a collection of infinite particles each aware of some part of totality, and the particles raised into a fist which blew with terrible force as it flattened and held down the writhing specters. They mere placeholders, nothing but three dots of animated clay held by weak strings of silver spiderweb.
Thelon knew he could follow the threads back to their source, but it would be a danger to his friends if he did. Through his left side, he perceived a mountain, far off, somewhere he believed to be in Alaska; it was an image from a National Geographic magazine he’d read as child. Something extended out of his core energy—a new appendage. A silver fluid hook. He released the three specters from his clamped fist, and they rose like flimsy kites towards Henry.
No. Thelon hooked them, stronger than their silver tethers, and he pushed them into the vision in his left side, away from this place. He closed his left side. It is done. Thelon’s hook retreated into him and he sensed something closing like a window to the rain. It slammed shut, and he was back in his physical body. Present and normal time resumed. He knelt and lifted the latch on the door.
The moment the lock released, Cassie flung the door wide open, then leveled her gun straight at Thelon’s head.
Thelon gazed into the black hole, tempted to again alter his perception of time and return to knowing. Instead, he chose to remain grounded and said, “They’re gone.”
Cassie stepped into the unit with speed. Her eyes tracked left and right in perfect match to her weapon and when she confirmed what Thelon told her, she lowered her gun.
“Heeey,” Henry wheezed.
“I heard voices,” Cassie said. “They were here. Where did they go?”
Thelon stood and shrugged. What just happened? Confused, his back ached and he was hungry. He rubbed his hands over his stomach and made a noncommittal grunt.
Cassie pointed an accusing finger at him. “You…”
Thelon ducked and cringed as his back spasmed. “Oh yeah, yeah. They were here, but they’re gone.” Does this sound as ridiculous outside of my head? He raised his hands in defense and added, “I don’t know.”
Henry whipped his head towards the sound of Thelon’s voice and said, “If you’ve both decided that whoever jumped me is gone, can you like, I dunno. Take this fucking blindfold off me and untie me and shit?”
Thelon tried to chuckle, but it came out fake and corny. “Uh, yeah.” Why am I talking like this? What just happened? He gently pulled the blindfold over Henry’s head, but zip-ties held his hands tightly behind him. Henry flinched when Thelon touched them. “Dude, I’m sorry.” He looked to Cassie, helpless and lost.
“Hold on,” Cassie said with a sigh and handed Thelon her gun.
Thelon did not like the weight of it. The deadliness it contained. For an incredibly brief instant, a black thought whistled through his mind: I could shoot myself. This whole fucking weird mess could end right now. His mouth made a weird humming sound and he coughed. I want this gun out of my hands. Rotten worry wormed through his heart. Anxious, he shifted his weight from foot to foot as Cassie freed Henry with a tiny knife she’d had in her back pocket.
“Swiss Army girl!” Henry said before falling into a bloody coughing fit.
Thelon stopped thinking about himself and his inarticulate fears.
Henry looked up at him through swollen eyes. Blood flowed from a cut at his hairline.
With extreme caution, Thelon placed the gun on the floor pointing away from them. Then he took off his t-shirt and dabbed at Henry’s face, stopping the flow from running into his eyes. “Why you looking at me like that?”
“You two saved me. No one has ever saved me before.”
Cassie brushed Thelon aside and looked at Henry’s wounds. “Might have a black eye. Make that two. Now, as for this, you are gonna have a scar.”
“What’s the good news, doc?”
“Good news? Well, between me, a fishhook, and some fishing line from the camping store, I can stitch you up.”
“Ugh.” Henry tried to stand.
Cassie rested a hand on his shoulder and said, “You might have a concussion. Did they hit you with something? I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad. I heard you through the door, laughing and laughing like a motherfucker.”
Henry smiled through busted lips. “No. I think they just punched me the one time. Came up behind me or else I’d have showed them what’s what.”
Cassie kissed the top of his head. “I know you would have, tough guy. But you did just fine.”
“Aw, thanks, but you know what? I still don’t have a fucking clue what they wanted. Like, thanks for saving my ass, but are you two as confused as I am? Who the fuck were they? How’d you even find me?”
Cassie eased Henry into leaning his weight against her shoulder. “Credit goes to your friend. He did some Jedi shit. I don’t even know what happened.”
Flanked on his other side by Thelon, the three hobbled Henry around the building to their car.
They didn’t say a word as Thelon drove back to the camp. Even though there was barely enough room with the cat carrier, Cassie sat in Henry’s lap as smiled like a Buddha holding a purring Cat. They should be asking what the fuck just happened. There’s no way anyone can simply accept unreality like this. Even me. Especially me.
Thelon realized he was in the company of two people more accepting of the situation than himself. He wanted to break the silence and find out what they were thinking, how they were doing this, what they both really knew or remembered, but a monumental sense of drowsiness reminded him to focus on driving. Get back to the camp. Sleep. Talk about it over breakfast or never. He knew it was the latter. Shit was just happening, and they were all accepting it. Tomorrow, it would be like it never happened. Just more unending driving to nowhere, with random events fucking with us.
As Thelon parked on the gravel camp road, he glanced into the rearview mirror. Henry’s face was close to Cassie’s. Their eyes were closed. Thelon waited to turn off the engine, not wanting to break the moment. He looked away, embarrassed as a gentle and lovely kiss landed on Henry’s swollen lips.
Thelon turned off the car and like he thought it would, the sudden quiet made them scatter.
Cassie touched her lips. “Jesus.”
They trudged again through the field, now in the early dawn and all of them wearing the weariness of the end of a day—which had started states away and seemed to stretch on to infinity.
“How about we all stay in one tent?” Cassie suggested.
“In case they come back?” Thelon asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think they will,” Henry said. “I don’t think they were really real.”
“In case they are and they do,” Cassie said.
Thelon nodded at Cassie, observing her posture, neck straight, head up, alert gaze like she was a prairie dog or meerkat watching over them. Mamma hen again. Our protector.
Cassie and Henry took the sleeping bag while Thelon st
retched out next to them. How can I even sleep? How did I do that shit? Walking through walls? Teleportation? That can’t be what really happened. Thelon started telling himself an alternate story. One where he lost consciousness due to his nervous condition and while out, Cassie was a bad ass with a gun and took care of business. That had to be it. They are just treating me with kid gloves like the mental patient I am. But why are they still with me if that’s true? He’d have to think about this in the morning. Fighting the losing battle against sleep, Thelon traveled down into a perfect darkness where not even the moonlight could reach.
CHAPTER FIVE
THELON WOKE BEFORE the others. It was still dark, but he felt rested. In the dim light, he watched them sleep: Henry, Cassie, Cat curled between them. I could leave right now. Instead, Thelon packed up the other tents and dragged their stuff to the car. The prior night remained a blur, yet he feared things were going to get worse both for himself and his wildly unpredictable friends.
He sat with his flashlight and poked at the ashes containing the burnt remains of his phone—Cassie’s phone. Ain’t that some shit. He wondered if Nestor, whoever or whatever he was, would be waiting at Black Star. Thelon wondered whether he would know what it had been about once he’d completed the mission. It’s random, man. It’s just random. He lost his train of thought when he heard talking from inside the tent.
“What the fuck,” Cassie said.
“You’re telling me, we slept for nineteen hours?” Henry said. “Can that even be right? Maybe it’s broken.”
“Hey, you two,” Thelon announced himself. “I’m out here. What’s up?”
“Cassie just, uh…checked her phone and it’s not today, it’s tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. That’s right. It’s eleven p.m.,” Cassie added.
Thelon addressed the tent, still closed. “I’ve been thinking about it. What if I bought you a bus ticket?”
“To where?” Henry asked as he popped out of the tent with Cat in his arms.
“Seattle. Arizona. Wherever.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Cassie asked.
“Mister T wants to puss out.”
“Please don’t call me that,” Thelon said. He was gaunt, and he could see his weight loss in his belt loops. He didn’t need a mirror to know his eyes were red with dark circles beneath them. A hollowness rattled in his chest and aches moaned from everywhere in his limbs. The only thing Thelon didn’t feel was physically tired, but mentally, this trip had exhausted him. There was nothing more he could give.
Cassie sat down next to Henry, opposite Thelon. Leaning her elbows against her knees, she gave Thelon a nod. “You want to quit?”
“It’s not that,” Thelon said.
“We have what, eleven hours of driving left? Then we get to meet the wizard of Oz, or Black Star, or whatever. Henry, are you willing to go the distance?”
“You bet.”
“So am I. Thelon, are you in?”
Thelon closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. To his utmost surprise, both tightly embraced him and that was when his tears fell. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Henry squeezed him around the ribs. “It’s okay, Thelon. Neither do we.”
Cassie laughed and they all joined her.
“Let’s hit the mother trucking road, y’all,” Cassie said, and they saw she too had wet eyes.
Once more trying to be rational, Thelon knew that he’d only met her yesterday or the day before that, but this sweetness was real. It was never anything I said. I didn’t have to convince them because they were waiting on me to come get them.
They packed up the rest of their shit and returned the camping gear, more than happy to leave this funny small town. They fueled the car before they left and when Henry went in to pay for the gas, he looked back at the car. Thelon couldn’t interpret his expression. It was the first time Henry didn’t look like he was fucking around. At first, he thought Henry was looking at him, but it was Cassie. That glance was love. Thelon had no doubt. It was only a second, but that’s what it was.
“You know what?” Thelon asked while unbuckling his seatbelt.
“What?” Cassie asked from the passenger seat.
“Would you mind driving first?”
“You do look a bit green,” she commented. “You okay?”
Thelon answered with an unanticipated vacant stare.
“Hello?” Cassie asked and tapped his arm.
“Yeah, yeah. I, uh…believe it or not, even after nineteen hours of sleep, I feel drowsy again.”
They switched seats and Henry came back with more water and Thelon’s change, which he dropped into the cup holder where there was a growing pile of cash and coin.
“Hey, you,” Henry said to Cassie. “Let’s roll.”
Thelon couldn’t believe it, but he really was tired again so he let go. He’d been letting go if he was being honest with himself. Or he’d never had a hold of things from the get-go. He’d awakened into a dream and then dreamed more dreams on top of that and now, in the presumable home stretch, he was weary. He’d gotten Henry. He’d gotten Cassie. Thelon would take credit for that, but for now, he’d let Cassie drive. Fuck it. I’d let Henry drive if he wanted.
As the miles passed in a night drive of dark shapes, trees, and towns, Thelon lost track of everything. He half woke, unsure of how far along they were, and peered from the backseat to catch Henry lean into Cassie and whisper something in her ear through half closed eyes as she drove. He closed those heavy eyes again to the sound of Cassie laughing. They were going to be fine.
Thelon dreamed of T, but it wasn’t clear and lucid like it had been before. He stood in a dimly lit room, and the dark space stretched too far for him to make out the details of the walls. He sensed he was underground. Light, like candles, shone from some unseen source.
Paralyzed, Thelon was unable to even move his head. His eyes darted around, searching for the bad thing he felt behind him—a horrible presence that embodied every iota of dread which had been building for these days since he awoke in a world that was not his home. No sound. No movement. Not even his own breath. Only the certain knowledge that the worst thing imaginable stood over his shoulder out of sight.
Thelon experienced the impact of the dread, no other word for it, physically; needles pricked his extremities, and he knew that if he didn’t do something soon, he would die, lost forever in that terrible state. Then, T was there, in front of him, so close it was like standing in front of a changing room mirror. T was begging soundlessly, weeping and yanking at his hand, but Thelon’s panic-filled flesh was made of stone and he couldn’t hear or understand T’s message. Above the horror, Thelon sent words of apology to T: I’m sorry I drove you away. I’m sorry I fucked up your good life. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m sorry I never remembered what you wanted me to remember.
He had no way of knowing if T could pick up his thoughts and he mourned the lost opportunities and shared in the anguish he saw written upon his own face.
Then it was over, and he woke to chatter and sunlight filling the backseat of the car. He hadn’t died after all. Cat stretched a paw towards his beard and he wondered if she’d been sleeping on him the whole time. The calm in the car was so jarringly different from where he had just been. Holy hell. I’m alive. He didn’t want to shout, but he still absorbed the good feeling of being present.
“Hey.” His voice cracked.
“He lives!” Henry declared.
“Barely,” Thelon said as he unbuckled and leaned forward between them. “Where are we?”
Cassie said, “Well, my friend, you snoozed through close calls with herds of deer in the night, the great Henry and Cassie sing-along karaoke show, and a whole lotta driving through absolutely nothing remarkable.”
While the car smelled of road living—sweat and the distinct sugary odor of energy drinks—the daylight was exceedingly pleasant. It was neither too bright, nor too intrusive in Thelon eyes. It was Hallmark weather
and the normalcy and goodness imparted a lightness to him. “Where are we, though?”
“Thelon, did you know you fart in your sleep?” Henry asked.
He did not know and what he’d hoped had been the cat box smell was himself. He opened the window all the way to let in cleansing air. Water. I need to be in some water. A shower. A tub. A run through a lake. The thought was reflexive. Sure, he wanted to get clean, but water grounded him and he missed it.
How long has it been since I changed clothes? Time was impossible for him to think about, so Thelon looked out the windows at the little houses suffused with warm light lining the tidy streets. Is it real, though? Thelon had doubts. A counter narrative came to him with suspicion: This whole thing has been a trap.
They entered a sleepy town with a twenty-five mile an hour speed limit posted, and the big town sign said, ‘Welcome to Cahokia.’
“Oh snap! We’re here,” Thelon said.
“Yuppers.” Cassie followed the GPS through the one-traffic-light town, passing a quaint library, simple gas station, and a family restaurant called ‘The Smorgasbord.’
“Sounds awesome,” Henry said. “Let’s eat there next. I can picture one epic large family feed trough.”
“Oink, oink,” Cassie said.
The GPS guided them away from residences, out to a long country road where the trees reclaimed the land on the edges of vast cornfields. After a few miles, they spotted a wooden sign with the faded hand-painted lettering: “Black Star Spiritualist Camp.”
“This is our stop. Everybody ready?” Cassie asked.
Thelon could hear the exhaustion in her voice. They drove all night and let me sleep. God, I wish I’d known them in a normal life.
Huge old trees and a gravel road led them down a quarter mile of bumps and turns until they came to wide yards of fresh-cut grass and walkways up to connected rows of bunkhouses, an unmistakable glass shape of a greenhouse, and gardens, and way on up the road, a white mansion was flanked by oaks on a hill. It could have been a youthful church camp, except there were no youths that they could see. At first, there was no one at all.