Notopia

  Gwen stepped down the stairs cautiously, one hand on the wall, the other on a railing. She found the light switch and felt slightly better now that she could see her way. The basement area was dingy but organized with a supply shelf of food items along the far side wall. With lots of food stored in jars and bags, the area felt more like an oversized root cellar than a standard basement. Next, to the shelving was a couple of large wooden barrels, a three-legged wooden stool, and what looked like some animal pelts.

  She shook the stool to see how sturdy it was and then sat down with her back to the wall. There, directly across the room from her, hung a painting. It was the same size as her portal painting and looked very similar to hers. In fact, it was eerily too familiar, except there was no stream in Roger’s painting. It had the very same feel—the same Redwood trees, and surrounding fauna. The view was of a hillside across a divide with a person is standing on a pathway. Gwen moved closer to get a better look and then she grabbed the frame, pulling it outward into better light. She was the person in the painting.

  She wore blue jeans, a light blue shirt, and a gray zippered sweatshirt. She remembered that sweatshirt like it was yesterday. She had purchased it when she was a teenager at camp. This was the same place her painting was from except it was painted from the view of the bridge. Now she could make out the bridge railing at the base of the painting. Some questions popped into her head. Do Roger and I have the same portal? What does this mean? And why am I in his painting? He is not in mine. And what are Leo and his friends to think? It was time to leave.

  Chapter 13

  Gwen had been soaking in the tub ever since Delilah left, and she was anticipating a rush of emotion to pounce upon her. She had made love with Leo, which felt as real and as personal as any before. She had spied on Roger, a man she knew and trusted for almost twenty years. She had spent endless energy and time contemplating the inner workings of the universe. Despite all that had gone through her mind, she felt like she knew less now than she did two days ago.

  Her parents had always encouraged her freethinking ways and often played along with her imaginations as a child. They would join in with her when her imaginary pet dog, Cheeto, would jump from tree to tree while traveling alongside the car on family excursions. It was always a sense of comfort to know that she could explore concepts and ideas that others were not able to see. Was this entire Notopia excursion just an intricate extension of her childhood visions? She decided her imagination was harmless before, and so long as these journeys into Notopia remained seamless, they would continue to be harmless now. Besides, she enjoyed the mystery and intrigue of her adventure. So, why did this disrupt her emotions so?

  She felt bad about not opening the door for Leo earlier, but she understood his reluctance to tell her his suspicions about Roger. Leo was certainly a wonderful man, and she wondered how she could seek him out in real life, or even if she should. She decided that now was probably not the best time to do that. She sighed and recalled his touch fondly as she sank deeper into the tub.

  ***

  Roger paced back and forth in his apartment. He had learned long ago that he could not will his way back into Notopia, yet he wanted badly to do so. Now, more than ever, he needed to see his painting. Whatever was chasing and killing dreams in that rainbow had to be showing up in his painting now. He was confident it would return before too long. It had adapted significantly from its first appearance, and he was quite sure the next time it came, it would not succumb to the blue fire. But what would it do? What would it look like?

  He also wondered how the elimination of Notopia would play out in the real world. How soon would it be before governments began to crumble and chaos and carnage took over? Yes, it would mean the death of billions, but in the long haul, it would reestablish man’s proper place on earth. Human populations would eventually stabilize and return to a natural ebb and flow like every other creature on the planet. Life would be harder but more enjoyable for everyone on a level few could even imagine today; however, he knew this would take years, and he would never receive any credit for being the one to initiate humanity’s cascading transformation from world dominance to world participant.

  ***

  Roger sat himself down and took a few deep breaths as he thought that perhaps he should try to get some sleep. It was not all that late, but he had been shortchanged on sleep the past few days. It was then that he could swear he just heard the front door close. He tried to hop up out of his chair, but the three-legged stool was much too low for that. He was back in Notopia in his basement, and his front door had just closed.

  He moved quickly up the stairs and to the door. There, he hesitated and thought there might be someone in the house. With the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom clear, he moved upstairs to the study. Finding no one, he went back down to the front door and stepped outside. By this time Gwen was gone, and he saw nothing of her, but he did see the multitude of people flocking and milling about the museum across the street, so he headed over to see what was up.

  Most of the activity seemed to be around the reception pyramid, where a long line of people had formed. Something is wrong, he thought as he quickened his pace to get a closer look.

  He stopped a man who had just come out of the office. “What is all this about?” Roger asked.

  “Oh, it’s you,” the man said. “You are that Roger guy on TV.”

  “Yes, yes I am,” Roger humored him. “But what is all this?”

  “Well, it’s because of you. Your idea of a Seeker Assist Program is pretty popular, my good fellow. It seems everyone saw what happened with the rainbow today and I guess we all felt it prudent to sign up right away.”

  Roger looked at the long line of people. “Thank you,” he said as he hurried off toward the office.

  “Well, you are quite welcome and thank you!” the man replied.

  Roger needed to get into the office and see what was happening. He made his way inside and maneuvered through the crowd to get behind the counter. There, four clerks were working at a feverish pace, disseminating and collecting information.

  “Gee thanks for coming in Roger! There are more people out there than you can shake a stick at! I hope you are here to help,” said one clerk.

  Roger replied. “Yes, yes I am. In fact, you gals can forgo the data entry on those first three questions. Just get the addresses entered and verified. In the meantime, I will hand out forms to the people in line, so they can complete them before coming in.” Roger grabbed a stack of forms and headed for the door. “I will come back and help you key them in.”

  Roger walked down the line passing out forms as people rummaged in their pockets and purses for writing utensils. It took him a good fifteen minutes to exhaust his supply of forms, but now the line was moving, and from here, he could see the end. He headed back toward the office and caught an odd smell in the air, which was there at one moment, and then gone the next. He stopped and looked around, and there it was again. He turned his face into the light breeze that was coming from the main museum entrance. His curiosity aroused, he crossed the plaza area and marched up the steps.

  The ladder caught his eye first and then the obelisk. Atop it was a large black mass of some sort, and Rick was there with his mop and bucket. Roger approached. “What is this, Rick?”

  “You asking me Roger? I have no idea. It appeared a few hours ago, and it’s been growing steadily ever since. Now, it leaks this foul smelling, green slimy ooze everywhere.”

  Roger walked around it to get a closer look at the top. He stopped to read the plaque. “Roger Tremon?” he read aloud.

  “Yep, it’s yours alright,” Rick answered, “and something more.”

  “More?”

  “Your painting is gone.”

  “Gone? Are you sure?”

  “Yep. Go see for yourself.”

  Roger left Rick with the mess to do just that. Knowing right where his painting was hung, Roger quickened his pace. He s
aw that Rick was exactly right. His painting was gone. But why, and what did that stone pedestal out front with his name on it have to do with all this?

  Roger checked the register book on his way back out front. His name was no longer there, which meant the painting wasn’t just moved, but rather that it was simply not anywhere in the museum. Perhaps that thing out front is replacing my painting. If that were so, then why would I not be in the register book? And why am I here if I don’t have at least a picture frame?

  Roger headed back toward the pedestal to see if he could learn anything. Rick was on the ladder; and with a rag in his hand, he proceeded to wipe down the stone. The black rocky mass began to rotate slowly in front of him. Suddenly, it cracked open like an egg hatching, and a bright green light burst forth. The crack continued to spread, and the light grew more and more intense. Rick hustled down the ladder opting to jump from the last two rungs. The mass burst into chunks, sending the ladder bounding away. Rick slid a good ten feet from the shockwave but was unhurt. The intensity of the light that temporarily hid what was happening from view began to diminish, and a statue had taken shape atop the pedestal.

  Something very unfamiliar and menacing in appearance stood on the pedestal. It faced the museum instead of outward toward Notopia. It was a raw human shape but very different. The proportions of the appendages and body were not right. The legs were elongated, and the arms were inconsistent in their lengths between joints. The fingers were way too long as well, so much so, that they were barely recognizable as fingers.

  Roger rushed over to help Rick to his feet. “What the hell was that?” Rick said.

  “Are you okay?” Roger asked.

  “I am,” Rick said as he stared up at the statue. “But what, in all of creation, have you dreamt up?”

  “I really don’t know, Rick, but it made quite a mess!”

  With the large crowd of people at the museum, a news crew was also on hand. They had seen the explosion and were bolting up the stairs with cameras rolling, trying to capture what was going on. Roger noticed that Delilah was not among them and a gentleman held the microphone.

  “I got to go, Rick, you understand,” Roger said, and he headed toward his home.

  “Understand what? For cripes sakes, I understand you aren’t going to help clean this up!”

  In all the commotion, no one noticed the cloud forming overhead. Another rainbow delivery was about to take place, and the gloriously colored spectrum began to shine not ten feet from where Rick now stood.

  Roger had gotten halfway down the stairs before he noticed the brilliance of the colors shining from behind him. He stopped and turned to watch. Only once before had he been an eyewitness to dreams coming directly from the rainbow and he didn’t want to miss this one. The light was extremely bright and very intoxicating to gaze into. The marble walkway it struck glowed with the corresponding colors, and the rainbow itself was at least sixty feet across.

  From such a close vantage point, it was impossible to see how many bulges were making their way down the rainbow, but it wasn’t long before the first could be seen descending in the yellow-hued strip. It slowed just before touching down, and a very tall, thin gentleman stepped out carrying a hat and an old carpetbag. He smartly put the hat on his head, straightened his tie, and walked into and through the crowd that had now gathered.

  The bursting of the statue, the rush of the news media, and now the rainbow, had all served to divert everyone’s attention from registering. They crowded around the rainbow eager to see what dreams would emerge and hopeful that a great many would.

  A large gasp roared from the crowd, and the remnants of a blue fire could be seen streaking from the rainbow above.

  The cameras were now “front and center” on the rainbow, and the crowd was hushed. Somehow, they collectively felt compelled to watch. It was as if a train wreck, an impending car collision, and a motorcycle jumper missing his landing were going to happen all at once. A large bulge came into view, or was it two? It tumbled briefly before reaching the marble.

  A blackish figure with green and brown oils oozing from its ghastly body stepped with a long spider-like stride from the rainbow. Its frame was tall, thin, and lanky, and its extremely long, sinewy fingers gripped tightly to the dream that dangled in his left hand. You could see the dream’s throat had been slit and its stomach sliced open. The figure wielded a large, slightly-curved blade in the other hand and pointed it directly at the camera as if to say, “watch this.” It then tossed the body unceremoniously to the ground and looked skyward. The dream began to shake, and the familiar blue fire sparked up and started to climb skyward. The thing leaned back, and its spiny head opened a gaping mouth and let ring a blood-curdling screech. The blue fire changed course, and instead of going skyward it got sucked into the creature’s mouth. It wiped its mouth on its wrist like an uncouth man who just devoured a greasy entree. What had engulfed and drug the creature away previously was now merely food. You could see a bulge in its abdominal area moving about, seemingly pressing to get out. The thing looked directly into the camera, and a blue flame glowed in its pupils.

  In a flash, the thing leaped into the air, vanishing off into the countryside. The crowd stood speechless and in shock. Afraid more creatures would emerge from the rainbow, the people began to back off, moving away and down the steps. Albeit slow at first, but the pace soon quickened to a jog before the running started. Three more dreams came through the rainbow, but on this day, only the camera crew, Rick, and Roger noticed.

  Chapter 14

  Gwen worked diligently in her cubicle. She was glad to be at work and anxious to return to Notopia. She wanted to help Leo, and his band of firemen find out what was eluding them, and at the same time, she could clear Roger’s name from their list of villains. She did have one last question for Roger. Why had he concocted the notion that he went looking for her after she had left? That was inconsistent, and she planned on asking him directly about it at lunch.

  She found it odd that her inbox contained no items from Roger or Delilah. Usually, by now, she had five or six messages. There was nothing from Paul either, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Looking further, she found that none of them had logged into the instant messaging system. She decided to go downstairs and see where they were.

  Roger’s cubicle was empty.

  “He hasn’t been in all day, Gwen. No call, nothing,” a neighboring worker said. “You got any ideas where we can reach him?”

  Her first thought was to say the museum, but she knew that would be useless. “No, I don’t. Roger didn’t say anything to me about not coming in for work. Have you checked with Delilah?”

  “Who?” the man answered.

  “Delilah. Never mind, I will go ask.” Gwen replied, noting the somewhat puzzled look on his face.

  Gwen marched directly to Delilah’s desk. From across the office, she could see someone other than Delilah at Delilah’s desk. Leticia Mendez was familiar to Gwen, but she worked elsewhere in the office.

  “Morning Leticia. Did you trade desks with Delilah? She never told me,” Gwen said.

  “Gwen, you know I have been at this desk for five years now, and Delilah hasn’t worked here for over a year. Are you okay?” Leticia replied.

  Gwen stood silent. Think, she told herself. This can’t be. Perhaps some fallout from Notopia is affecting me. She looked at the nameplate on the desk, and she knew Leticia well.

  “Gwen? Honey? What is wrong? Why are you asking about Delilah?”

  “Did I say, Delilah? I meant Roger.” Gwen tried to cover herself with laughter. “I thought Roger was over here. He, Delilah, and I are planning a get-together.”

  “Well, Roger hasn’t been in today, and is Delilah back in town? When she and Paul ran off last year, we never heard a peep from them.”

  Oh my god! Not Paul too? Gwen had never held this much anxiety inside before. She was desperate to see Paul’s desk. She excused herself and headed ove
r to find Paul.

  “If they are in town we want to see them, Gwen!” Leticia hollered as Gwen walked away.

  Paul’s desk was empty. Boxes were stacked on top and underneath, replacing the usual neat, tidy, and super-efficient work area he maintained. She glanced around, looking at everyone bustling about with what seemed trivial repetitious dribble to her right now. She wanted to cry.

  Gwen returned stoically to her cubicle. This can’t be! They cannot just vanish without her knowing something! Delilah was her closest friend; they shared everything. And now Paul too, how could they just not be there? She was hurt and dumbfounded at the same time. At least Roger was probably just home and in bed sick. At lunch, she would knock on his door.

  Lunchtime arrived, and Gwen hustled out to her car. She hopped in and inserted her key, but it would not turn. She slipped the key out and in and tried again—still nothing. Frustrated, she leaned her head back onto the headrest, took in a deep breath, and let out a long, loud sigh. She started to turn the key one last time and stopped as there, directly in front of her car, stood Delilah. Gwen flung the door open and ran to hug her. “Delilah! I am so glad to see you!”

  Delilah caught Gwen and held her close. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  Gwen was half-crying with relief. “What is going on? Where did you go? And where is Paul? I have so many questions and so much to tell you!”

  Delilah held Gwen lovingly. “Gwen, I can’t imagine you any other way.” She kissed Gwen’s forehead not unlike a mother kisses a child. “Gwen, Paul is right there.” She gestured with one arm, and sure enough, there was Paul, not five feet away.