Nano Day 25 - Titled: The Pan Aspet

[joegoda]

For Capi and the readers. It was a good day today.



We left Honkers and I was feeling good. As I started the van, I looked over at Angelina and she was still wearing a wary look on her face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked her.

She jumped a bit. I think she was not exactly with me, maybe somewhere else.

"Look," I continued, "I'm sorry about back there at the restaurant. I was feeling something that I hadn't felt in a long time, and I had a bit of difficulty controlling it." I paused and took a breath. "It's not you, really. It's something to do with me."

I put the van in gear and drove out of the parking lot. I got back on the Fremont highway, turning north, and turned again, heading west once we reached highway 140, the Klamath Falls, Lakeview Highway. It seems that just about every highway carries a lot of name. Of course, if someone said to me, "You just turn left at the Klamath Highway," I'd be lost. Names are important, of course, but roads have numbers, and that's what I go by when driving through a strange place. I think it's just that I see numbers better on a roadsigns than a name. Besides, a name like 'Klamath Fall, Lakeview Highway' requires a pretty big sign.

The van dinged at me. I looked down at the dashs idiot lights to see what was up. Idiot lights are called idiot lights for a reason. They are put there to remind idiots like me to do something.

In the book, 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang' written by James Bond author Ian Fleming, Chitty, the intelligent motor-car, blinks a light that says 'Pull Me.' When the driver, Caracatus Potts doesn't respond, the light blinks again and says 'Pull Me, Idiot!'

When Potts finally pulls the lever, Chitty's wings appear and the automobile safely flies over the ocean, saving Potts and family from crashing over a cliff. Everybody lives happily ever after. In the movie, which was very funny and my brothers and I loved it, this scene was reduced to just having the lever flash, 'Pull Me'. Chitty, in the children's movie, did not stoop to insulting her driver. I like the book much better. And there is a fudge recipe in the book, too, which I feel is very cool.

So, whenever a light flashes or a ding dings in a car, I always remember Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and her idiot light. The memory warms me, knowing that I'm not the first or only idiot who drove a car. In this case, the idiot was me, and after four hours of driving, my own Chitty was thirsty. I pulled over at a Chevron station, got out and filled the tank.

While I was pumping, I looked through the back window at Angelina. She had not spoken since the diner. Of course, it had only been a few minutes, but still... People talk all the time, it's their nature. Even when they aren't saying words, what they aren't saying speaks volumes. Right now, she was saying "Leave me a lone for a bit, okay?" Her arms were crossed and she was looking out the window, at nothing, or maybe everything, her want line as deep as a Rocky Mountain crevasse.

I went to pay for the gasoline, and just because, I bought her a bottle of Coke and I bought me a bag of Malt balls. I was feeling incredibly good, considering how concerned I was for Angelina, and I love the chocolate covering over the malt balls, and just when it's all melted away, you can crunch on the hollow planet of pure malt. MMMMmmm Good!

I did realize that my mood was enhanced by a couple of things. I knew that endorphines and hormones were flooding my bloodstream, giving me a false sense of Warm Fuzzy. I also knew that Pan was just pleased as punch to be near a sweet young thing. That was something that I had to make sure I had under control. Poor 'ol Pan hadn't been let loose in me for a very long time, and that sort of hunger flashes its own idiot light. While I was getting the credit card receipt, I made a promise to myself that I was not going to be that sort of idiot, this time around.

I climbed into the van, feeling her wobble as I pulled my butt into the seat. I handed the Coke to Angelina, who took it without a word. I looked at her for a moment before starting the engine, thinking of something to say. The look on her face was just... not right. I struggled to find something, got a handle on it, started the engine and pulled out of the station, crossed the train tracks that lay just past it, and headed down the road. My Chitty was now a happy van.

"You got freaked out, back there, didn't you?" Maybe not the most subtle I've ever been in my life, but I don't think sneaking up on a problem solves it any faster. Angelina didn't answer for a few seconds, so I repeated myself. "Didn't you?"

"I thought I could trust you," she muttered. "Then you go... wherever it was you went, came back and got all weird." She looked at me, and there was shininess in her eyes. "You looked like you wanted to eat me, or something." She looked out the window again, away from me. "I've seen that look before."

Honesty, regardless of where it comes from, is always appreciated. It's the basis of friendship and, yeah, I'll say it, love. It's why I have the friends I have. They will tell me when I'm being stupid, and they know I will accept it. Not always graciously, but I will accept it.

"Yeah, well..." I let that trail off. I flipped a mental coin. How much to I tell a kid about life and how incredibly lonely it gets, about how hard it gets, and that no, it's not fair, the game is stacked against you.

No, no, no! I gripped the steering wheel and mentally beat myself back. That was the wrong thing to even think about. That was the Pan mind, playing the sympathy card. I'm an old guy, please forgive me, I've been alone so long... blah, blah, blah. Total and pure crap.

I don't get lonely, and that's the truth. I've lived alone for over ten years, and in that time, the lonelies have hit me maybe three times. And they were brief times, lasting less than an hour. I'm quite happy with myself, thank you very much. It's not that I wouldn't mind company, but really, most times I just don't want company.

So, instead, I focused on the truth. And I told it to her.

"I'm sorry, Angelina," I began. "There's a part of me that is very, very attracted to you right now. It's also the same part of me that is going to probably keep us safe until we get you home." I tried to smile at her. See? I'm just the same old harmless guy that you hitched a ride with back in Colorado. I think it came off a bit forced and fake though. I wasn't the same old guy. I was getting younger.

"There's an energy in the Universe, Angel," I coughed, "Angelina, I mean. This energy has the potential to do anything, be anything, anything at all. It's because the entire Universe is composed of it, this energy. And because of that, if someone has the ability to manipulate this energy, they become very powerful, and it affects them in a lot of ways."

"You sound just like my father," she spat out, angrily. "He never said anything to me about it, but I used to listen to him talk to my brothers like that. I was just a girl who couldn't do anything." Her voice grew louder, her hands clenched, the Coke bottle started to bubble.

"Um." I said.

"I was never good enough for him to talk to. Oh, no! I was, however, good enough for him and my brothers to..." She stopped and let out a shocked scream. The coke in the bottle had bubbled to the point where the plastic has swollen and the cap shot off, striking the top of the van with a dull tump sound. The boiled Coke had erupted in a fountain of brown foam.

She looked at me, eyes wide and shocked. Her mouth had stopped in mid-invective and her jaw had dropped. Her hair was plastered by wet coke foam, dark brown bubbles decorating her face and her white sweater. It was not an attractive thing, but it was incredibly funny. I felt that it was not a wise thing to laugh at her, though. I've seen the movie 'Carrie'.

"Let's get you back to where you can get cleaned up," I said to her, definitely not smiling. Definitely NOT smiling. I bumped the van across the two lane highway and headed back to the Chevron station. "Angelina, did you ever see a movie called Firestarter?"

Still shocked by what had happened, she shook her head, her long brown hair damp and sticky.

"Once we get back on the road, I'll tell you about it," I said. The Chevron was only a couple of miles back. Not much time lost, but I had the feeling that this was going to be something that was needed to be done quickly. No particular reason, just a feeling. A bad feeling. I pushed the accelerator to the floor, got up to 75 and held it there.

"What just happened to you is a lot like what I've been trying to tell you," I said. "There is more in the heavens and on earth that are dreamt of in your philosophy." I held my hand out to her. "Here, give me that coke bottle." She handed me the bottle, looking at it as if it were some dangerous thing. I laughed, gently.

"Honey, I'm not laughing at you." I stopped saying any thing. It was truth time, she'd had enough lies in her life. "Okay, I am laughing at you. But not because of your misery. Look in the mirror."

She pulled down the passenger side visor, which had a mirror on it. One look and she was doubly shocked. "Why didn't you tell me I looked this bad?" she demanded. She reached into that bag that held our trash, rummaged through it until she found a napkin and started a spit wash on her face.

I bumped the van across the railroad tracks and pulled into the little Chevron station. I turned off the engine, and told her that I'd wait until she was done. "But hurry, Angelina. I have a bad feeling that something nasty is coming."

"By the pricking of your thumb?" She asked. I nodded.

"By the pricking of my thumb." I said. "When you come back, I'll tell you all that I know about this stuff. And why I'm so weird all of a sudden."

Angelina got her bag from the back. A change of clothes was definitely in order. She turned to me as she got out the door and looked at me hard. "All of it? You promise me?"

I nodded again. "All of it. I think it's about time you learned what your brothers know."

Still wearing a mixture of suspicion and curiosity on her face, she disappeared into the ladies room.

She had said she was good enough for her father and her brothers to... what? I contemplated that question, but not very deeply. I would have to say that when a woman is looked upon as not much more than property, there is pretty much only one answer. I could be wrong. I doubt it, though. I felt a cold ball of rage start, deep inside of me.

Let me explain a bit more about this Pan Aspect. He is an insatiable bastard. Well, not really a bastard. His parents were Hermes, a Greek God, and Penelope, a mortal woman. But he is insatiable. He's also one of the good guys. Granted, he had a thousand children after a century or so, few of which he knew, and granted, he wasn't really known for his devotion to parental responsibility, but he was a demi-god of ethics. No morals, you understand, because morals were created by man to control man. He was a demi-god. Mere mortal laws did not necessarily apply to him. Now, if the laws and morals happened to coincide with Pan's ethics, that was just fine and good.

Pan never took an unwilling person in his long existence. Ever. It was either consensual or it was nothing. The idea of forcing someone against their will to do anything would enrage him, and there were a few of those ancient Greek parties that ended up not so happy for some of the guests. Just as there were a few Roman parties, French parties, Chinese parties, and even American parties where certain guests who were not well behaved would somehow just spontaneously disappear. Pan was a traveler, that he was, and he couldn't tolerate rudeness when it came to having fun.

In short, if it's a thing called rape, it's a thing called evil. It is one of many, many things that my Aspect and I agree on. I think that the longer he lives in me, the more I become like him. Life, children, is to be appreciated, loved, cherished and enjoyed. To steal any enjoyment from anyone else diminishes us all. There is no plea bargaining. There is just justice swift and serious.

The positive thing was that this new knowledge caused the Pan Aspect to reflect upon Angelina as no longer a person to be won over by his many charms, but as a child, someone that has had her toy stolen. I could reach to the aspect and find that, even though the desire was still there, hot and very, very solid, it was now overshadowed by a sense of 'this child must be protected!". Not brotherly or fatherly protection. More like a Range Rider sort of six gun save the girl from the bad guy type of protection. This was a good thing. It would allow me to work with Angelina on a much more level perspective. Lust, not love, is blind. And stupid.

Angelina crawled back into the van looking fresh. She was wearing a different sweater, dark blue and corded. She had changed her jeans to some ski pants. It gave her the look that she was only here for the skiing.

"Feel better?" I asked.

She pulled the visor back down, checked her face and her hair. Satisfied, she turned and asked me anyway. "Do I look better?"

"Yes," I said. "Yes, you do." I put the van in gear and started back onto the highway. I felt that ominous feeling again. It bit at my head like bumblebees. The entire back of my skull was on fire with the sensation of something big. "Ow!" I cried. "Ow, ow, ow!"

Angelina's eyes got big again. "What?" she asked. "What is it?"

Not answering, I stepped on the accelerator, rocketing across the railroad tracks. "By the pricking of my thumb," I told her, after we were speeding down the road, "something wicked this way comes." I drove as quickly as I could, ducking my head to watch in the rear view mirror for something that could only be felt.

Angelina turned to look behind me, obviously frightened by what I was looking for. "What is it? What do you see?"

"Nothing yet." I told her, trying to remain calm. The buzzing and pressure in my skull was incredible. I felt like something had decided to clamp on to the back of my head and pull it off. The buzzing was high pitched and it set my teeth, the ones that are real anyway, to vibrating. The two that are fake felt like they were heating up. "But something is gonna happen, really soon!" I kept my eyes in the mirror while still avoiding running us off the road. "I think I pissed your dad off, Angel."

Above us, dark angry clouds rolled in faster than clouds ought to have a right to. There wasn't much of a wind that I could see, but these clouds came stampeding in from somewhere North. They gathered over the Chevron station we had just left. The clouds suddenly flashed a bright dark red, like an explosion, and a massive bolt of lightning lanced down, striking the station. The lightening must have struck the gasoline reservoir, because the station went up like a thousand roman candles, flames and dark smoke and sparks going everywhere.

"Yep. Zeus is pissed." I said. The lightning had been strong enough that I could feel the air charged with static electricity, and we were a half mile away and gaining ground, fast.

"That was my father?" Angelina asked me, still in shock at the sight. She was just starting to recognize that she had just been in the ladies room a few minutes earlier. "He could have killed me!"

"Angel," I said, watching the smoke from the destroyed Chevron station boil up into the sky, "It's time to do some truth telling. It's time for Magic 101."

I started out simply. "In the beginning there was the note. Pure and clean, it vibrated through the Universe, even before the Universe was. It is from this note that all things flowed."

I had borrowed this from a book called the Simarillion, written by J.R.R. Tolkien, the same writer who wrote about the Hobbits and the Lord of the Ring. I picked up the book when I was sentenced to the Library to catch up on my studies at NEO in Miami.

The Dean of students had figured out that I was skipping most of my classes to devote my time to working in the Theater. Yeah, I wanted to be an actor. I was an idiot. He decided that, for my punishment, I would spend the rest of the semester in the library, studying, eight hours a day. I had the suspicion that the Dean of Students had not met anyone like me. Libraries weren't prison. They were freedom.

The Simarillion was a heavy book, large and incredibly boring to me, and the book talked about the beginning of all things, large and small, magic and mundane. That was my catch, that it talked about beginnings, that it offered some form of explanation to maybe, some of the oddness I was. Even though it was speaking of the mythical Middle Earth, something in the concept of vibrations rang in my young mind and gave me... answers. They may not have been answers for anyone else, and they weren't even complete answers to me. But, still, they were the beginning of answers. The rest could and would be filled in by my own mind, in time. That time hasn't come yet. I figure I'll have to die, again, to get that answer.

I talked to Angelina about my younger years, the growing up and feeling isolated, the feeling that nobody was even remotely like me. I explained about my young years of meditation, about the alcoholism of my mother, about the abuse of my older brother, about the absence of my father.

I could see that her interest was caught, and her suspicion of me seemed to fade. She asked if we could get another coke or something at the next stop. I told her that it wasn't a problem, just that we need to keep our eyes and ears open for whatever. The deaths that had occurred back at the Chevron was something that we didn't discuss. I do know that it was something that we didn't forget. I know that I never did.

We pulled off the highway, prompted by a sign that said "Drew's Reservoir". We had just passed by Booth State Park, which didn't look like much of a park. I'm sure it's lovely, but there just wasn't much to distinguish it from the rest of the scenery. The park looked pretty deserted, and I'm sure it was. Late October is very off season, I would imagine. The temperature felt to be somewhere in the high thirties.

The road we drove was called Drew's Gap Lane. The road, or lane, wound down and down, switching back a couple of times. This must be Drew's Gap. It was fascinating, really. Much better than any old state park. Incredible beauty, and I was in awe of it. The Aspect was dancing a jig in my soul. Pan, is, after all, the Aspect of nature. Nature boy was having the time of his life, soaking up the energy from the bones of the earth.

I told Angelina about my Pan aspect, on the way down to the Reservoir. I started to explain who Pan was, something that was totally unnecessary, she told me. Her father had told them all about the Greek Pantheon.

What she didn't know, I reminded her, is that Pan was not some minor demi-god. He was a force of Nature. Not just a force of Nature, but one of The forces of nature. Mother Nature, which is a wonderful concept, maternal, nurturing, loving, is also just a single force of Nature. Granted, Demeter, the original Earth Mother, is also a Greek concept, born even before Pan, but she is just another force. Granted, a really, really strong force, but just a force. Pan could be looked at as sort of her great grandson. Where momma nature controlled the earth, the seasons, the plants and the water, Pan was master of emotions, of feelings... of being alive.

What she didn't know, and what her father wouldn't have understood, is that Pan was alive, as well as the other old Gods. Pan was alive in me, and I was his vessel. I went on to outline some of the other lives he had borrow, the many conquests he had, the battles he had enjoyed, the women he...

I looked over at her, and she was looking at me, wide eyed and laughing. I shut up immediately, got horribly embarrassed, and just kept driving.

"You are a very weird man, mister Chester." Her accent had come back and she was once again the Romanian, covering her mouth with her hand and snickering. Her eyes were soft and generous, the sort of brown eyes that a man could fall into, if said man was not working to protect her very life. "A very good man, but a very weird man." She sat back and enjoyed the scenery.

"Now I understand what was going on with you." She nodded at the mountains. "My brothers do that, when they are in their strength. They don't call it an aspect, though, and they don't claim that it comes from a god. They just get all puffed up, wear their egos on their sleeves and prance around as if they are God's gift to the world."

We took a very sharp switchback, one that took us within a couple of thousand feet of the Reservoir's shoreline. There was a sharp drop off on the other side of the road and a steep hill falling down dangerously to the water.

As dangerous as it looked, it was still a pretty thing, the water blue and calm. Reservoirs back in Oklahoma are man made. This was something created by Mother Nature, Demeter. It was... well, it was just amazing, is what it was.

Angelina leaned over me, looking out the driver's side window and I could smell her hair, her sweat, and it was disturbing.

"You should sit back, Angelina," I told her. "Not only is it not safe to be looking out the window on my side like that, but it's also not not safe to be looking out the window like that with me." I stopped and considered my words. "Well... it's safe, you know. Just not wise. I... We don't need the distraction."

She looked up at me, and smiled. "You are right, of course." She sat back in her seat. "I can always look at it through my window on the way back, yes?"

"Yes." I noticed then her accent seemed to change back and forth, and so I mentioned it.

"Oh, that!" She laughed again. "It's funny that you should talk about having that second personality, that Pan aspect. See, I have one, too. I call her The Countess. She comes out when she wants, and that's when I want to be witty or funny or sexy." She grew serious. "I know... it sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

A part of me grew very sympathetic. "No," I told her, "it doesn't sound stupid at all. I know exactly how you feel." I told her about my other personalities, before they integrated. I didn't tell her about the seventh, Anger. I figured that would just screw up this nice and friendly time we were having. To let her know that Anger was still hidden somewhere deep would have just scared her. Best to not bring up that which has no need to be brought up.

Once again, she looked at me with wide eyes. "You really are very strange. The Countess is just something made up, a character."

I was quiet while I drove up the side of a hill. The road appeared to sort of fade away to something more like a dirt track. The van complained a bit, bumping and humping up over the scraggy track. Fortunately, less than a few thousand feet up ahead, the road turned back into a paved drive. A few hundred feet after that, the stripe that divided it into left and right lane appeared again. Good thing. For a moment I was afraid that I'd have to turn around. My heart rate returned back to normal. I don't mind being lost, but I hate being lost and not knowing where I am.

"Are you sure, Angel?" I saw a small dockside store up ahead, and thanked the powers that be. "Think abut it. What is your personality, except for the individual attributes that make you what you are? And what are those attributes but the reactions you have to internal and external stimuli? What you do and how you act is your personality. Are you sure that The Countess is just an act?"

She pondered this, while I pulled up to the little store. I noticed that there appeared to be a highway on the other side of the parking lot.

"I'll be right back," I said. I got out of the van and walked into the store. I bought two bottles of Coke. Frankly, I like Coke myself, but since it tends to keep me awake, I avoid it. Also, I don't like to drink cold liquids when it's cold out. No, I bought two bottles just because, just in case.

I paid at the counter, and asked the girl there what the highway was on the other side of the parking lot.

"That's 140," she said. "Why? Didn't you just get off of it?" Seeing the dumb look on my face, she laughed. "You came up the old farm road from the lake, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"It's okay," she consoled. "It happens. Just not very often." She pointed to a map behind her. Sure enough, 140 wound from where we had turned off to where we were now. We just took about a ten mile detour. "Pretty country down there, huh?"

"Yes'm, it is. That makes it a good trip. Being lost isn't always a bad thing." I winked at her. I could feel my Aspect rising.

She was a pretty little thing. Blue eyed, blond haired, definite Scandinavian blood in there somewhere. Her voice was soft and her laughter was like tonic. And she was the worst thing I could have hoped for. She was receptive.

I don't know what there is about me, being fifty and looking like I do that attracts some women. Like I've said before, I like to think that it's because I'm harmless looking. However, there are those moments when I have to wonder, because some women definitely have a hungry look in their eye.

I felt a part of me, the non-Aspect part, nudge me and I heard myself saying, "You take care, okay. There are strange folks on the road." I walked out the door, feeling relieved. It's an odd thing to be flattered and to want, and then to also be frightened and to deny.

I got into the van and handed Angelina her coke. She looked at me with a knowing gaze and said, as she sipped from the bottle, "Everything go all right in there? You look a little...," she smiled, "flushed."

"It's a part of the Aspect that some folks find me irresistible," I grumbled. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Awww," she teased, "he's embarrassed."

I turned back onto highway 140 without responding. She had a curious expression on her face until she saw the highway marker. Then she started laughing anew. "You mean we were that close, all along? Oh, Chester," she laughed, "I'm so sorry." Her laughter was rich, like cocoa. I'm sure I was blushing red enough to cause its own glow.

I waited until her laughter had died down. It did, eventually, as all laughter does. I knew this fact well, as I had been laughed at quite a bit in my life time for one reason or another. Children are very cruel, and adults only slightly so. Adults have learned to be subtle.

Angelina saw the look on my face. Immediately, she turned 180 degrees. "Oh, Chester!" She repeated, holding a slim hand to her mouth, but it no longer hid a smile. "I'm so sorry. Really. I was just teasing you."

"It's okay, Angelina." I smiled, maybe a bit more grimly than I meant, but at least I had a smile. "It's something I got used to a long time ago."

We rode in silence for a bit. I think she was more embarrassed than I was. In truth, I had gotten used to being laughed at, a long time ago. When you're a goofy looking little four eyes, it just comes with the territory. Still, I don't think she had enough life experience to know how to move past this sort of thing. It's actually pretty easy. You just do. You just pick a direction and move that way.

"So, what did you think about what I said about The Countess?" I asked. "Is it an act, or a personality?"

The sense of relief, of having a direction to go, was pretty palpable from her. "I think," she said, "That she started as an act and became an aspect of my personality. I don't think," she added, "that The Countess is a separate personality." She looked at me and smiled. "You're pretty smart, you know that?"

I smiled back. "Honey, you don't know the half of it. I'm a genius." It may sound like bragging, but it's absolutely true. 158 on the standardized IQ test. And you know what? It's all a yawn, a lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing. You can have all the brains in the world, but if you get lost going to the grocery store, or if being smart keeps you from really enjoying life, what the hell good is it? Balance, the man said. It's all balance.

"Oh really?" She said, smirking. I liked this. We had entered a spot where sexual tension was at a minimum, where we were just traveling along, chatting and playing with each other like old friends.

That should have been enough of a warning. Whenever my life gets easy, you can bet your life some monkey would throw a wrench and the gears would go all wonky. Again.

There is a curve on highway 140, just about three miles from that little store. This curve comes to within just a few hundred feet of Drew's Reservoir. On one side there are some scrub trees and an access road, separated from the highway by a fence. On the other side, there is about two hundred feet of rock, falling quickly away to cold, cold water.

On that night, there was something else. Just as I came around the curve, when the reservoir was looming very close, something big and very hairy stepped out from behind a tree and stood in the middle of the road, looking at me.

"What the hell?!" I yelled, slamming on the brakes.

My brakes were and are in excellent shape. I don't do them myself. I have them done by Midas, because I like the guy that runs the shop. He's incredibly religious, and his belief is poured into his work. What this means to me is that if there was something to fail with his brakework, he would believe he would be damned to eternal hellfire. Now that creates motivation to do a good job.

The van slid, Angelina screamed, I cursed, trying to hold to the road and keep the van up right at the same time. I'm an excellent driver, and if I had just a bit more presence of mind, I would have done better. As it was, the van slide sideways down the road, turned around so that we were facing the wrong way, and then flipped around again, just in time to hit the Sasquatch.

Yes, you heard me. Sasquatch. Big hairy mythical creature that roams the great Northwest. And other parts of the country I suspect. Regardless, that night the Sasquatch became very non-mythical, and I hit one. Hard.

The van did one more spin around, and we were up against the fence on the other side of the road, facing the wrong way. There was that very odd moment, when we, Angelina and I just looked straight ahead, amazed that we were both alive. Anyone that has been caught on an icy road, and hit their brakes just at the wrong moment, knows exactly that feeling.

I've had that feeling once, when against all possibilities, I didn't die. Right then, I got to relive that feeling all over again. Life is good.

Once the amazement of life passed, Angelina and I looked at each other and the second symptom of near death occurred. We laughed. Laughed like a loon, laughed until tears rolled down our faces, laughed until we were out of breath and our vision blurred.

When I got enough wind back to speak, I asked her, "Do you have any idea what we just did?"

"Besides not die?" she shot back. "I think I need to change my underwear." I looked at her, to see if she was serious. "I'm kidding! Ha Ha. But... Damn, Chester!"

I knew exactly what she meant.

"Okay, let me rephrase the question," I said, turning in my seat to look out the back window. "Did you see what we just hit?"

Angelina joined me in looking behind us, at the mound in the center of the road. "I have no idea," she admitted. "A bear?"

"Come on," I told her, opening my door and getting out. "We have to get it out of the road before someone comes along and hits it again."

"I don't want to go anywhere near it!" she said. "What if it's got rabies or something? What if it attacks?"

I walked up to the inert mound, keeping my distance, just because I'm a coward and don't want to be eaten by a bear, and looked at the beast.

My best friend Tim, who it just occurred to me is a perfect compliment to Bacchus, the companion of Pan. Funny how that works. Hmmm. And Sherry is definitely and Earth Mother type. Later, later. All things in their time.

My best friend Tim, who is the most adventurous person I know, doesn't want to die quietly, in a nursing home somewhere. He doesn't want to fade away from the incredibly ordinary cause of 'old age', whatever that might be. He wants to go to the Great Northwest, maybe Alaska, and get eaten by a bear. He says he's just going to walk up to Mister Bear and poke him with a stick and say "Hey! Eat me!"

I think I'll see what I think once I reach old age. At this point, there is very little evidence that I'll ever die, despite evidence to the contrary. Why should I be like everybody else? I haven't been so far.

I could see that what we hit wasn't a bear. For one thing, the forearms were too long, and they ended in hands with opposable thumbs. Granted, not exactly the sort of hands I had. They were more like gorilla hands, or the hands of some really big wide receiver.

For another, there was a face. A really ugly face. Really ugly. With fangs. Of course, I'm sort of human biased. This... whatever, could have won the Miss or Mister Sasquatch contest. He or she could be the prettiest example that Sasquatch kind had to offer. So, for me to call it an ugly face was just because I had my own preconceived notions of what passes for not ugly.

"I think, and I could be wrong," I called back to the open passenger window, "That what we have here is your garden variety Sasquatch." It was cold enough that my breath was making clouds in the air.

"A what?" I'd have to say that Angelina's question was not out of line. It's not often you hear the words 'garden variety' and 'sasquatch' in the same sentence. "Is it dead?"

"I don't know." I bent down where I was and tried to determine if the creature was alive or not. I stayed about eight feet away and just watched.

"Well?" Angelina asked. "Get closer!"

"Uh," I called back. "No."

I waited, and I watched. and I smelled. Not me personally, but the thing on the road smelled. Musky, heavy, gamy, animal smell, strong and pervading. My Aspect raised his head and sniffed, too. And grinned. Obviously this was an animal he could relate to, the bastard.

I saw the chest of the sasquatch raise, then lower. It raised and lowered again. It was alive. I had just knocked it out with the van. Thank the Powers or Gods or whatever. I did NOT want to be responsible for killing a mythological creature.

The beast was not healthy, though. It's breathing, while steady, was labored and sounded bubbly, and I could see blood leaking out of it's side. The hit must have shattered a rib. I looked for any other injury. His or her leg was bent at an odd angle. Damn. Broken leg. I sighed and stood up.

"It's alive," I yelled back to Angelina, "But it's hurt pretty bad. Busted leg, busted rib. Maybe a punctured lung."

I walked back to the van, which sustained nothing worse than a bent bumper and some stray hairs stuck on for good measure. There was also a bent rear window wiper, but I don't use that anyway, so no loss to me.

I opened the side door and slid it out of the way. Crawling into the back, I started to dig through some of the stuff that I had tossed back there. I found a length of rope, about twenty-five feet, and came back around to the front.

"What are you doing?" Angelina asked.

"I'm going to pull Mister Sasquatch to the side of the road and see if I can help him." I glanced at her briefly.

I've done things like this before and have been met with the phrase, "you're nuts!" Well... not exactly like this. I have never pulled a sasquatch to the side of the road. Really. And I've never tried to patch up a broken sasquatch, ever. But still, I was waiting for her to reach out, grab my shoulder and tell me that I was nuts.

"I'm coming with you!" Angelina unbelted herself, opened the passenger door and stood next to me.

"Really?" I asked.

"Absolutely," she replied. "If you think I'm going to miss seeing a real live sasquatch, you're nuts. Thirty years from now, I don't want to look at my children and say 'you know... I almost saved a sasquatches life'. I want to say 'I helped SAVE a sasquatches life.' I mean, how very cool is this?!"

The excitement I saw in her face reminded me of my dear friend Capi. Capi is the most excitable person I know. She suffers from something called CIFDS, Chronic Fatigue Immune Deficiency Syndrome. Incredibly debilitating, very tiring, and causing the sufferer to be almost constantly ill. Capi, on the other hand, is always cheerful when we chat, and always tries to see the upbeat side of life. She is an incredible human being, and one of those folks that I call a 'Christian Christian'. When it comes to life, I would have to say that Capi 'gets it'. It's not that she doesn't get depressed or sad. She's not a Pollyanna. She does, however, belief it is part of her duty to NOT shove her problems on her friends. She'll talk about it, she'll discuss it, but she won't force you to have to listen to her problems. She's a doll and I love her like the little sister she is.

"Well, okay then." I headed to the prone form. "Let's go."

We got to the sasquatch, and I approached the foot of the beast very carefully. "Be careful!" Angelina yelled. As if I needed to be told. I looped the rope around his leg, tied it off, and went back to Angelina. I handed her the loose end, and told her to pull.

Sasquatch must have weight upwards of four hundred pounds. We pulled and pulled and eventually he started to slide, slowly, towards the side of the road. We strained and pulled and sweated and pulled and grunted. It was eighteen feet of drag, but we did it. Probably took us an extra half an hour, but it was worth it. Mister Sasquatch was on the side of the road, safe from any traffic that might have come along.

"How are you going to heal it?" Angelina asked, huffing and puffing, bent over at the knees to catch her breath.

My back wasn't feeling to well either, and I felt like I might have repulled my rotator cuffs. Damn, but that thing was heavy. I leaned back against the van, breathing heavy, long, slow, deep breaths.

"Well," I told her, "that's just one other benefit of being who I am." I lifted my hands to her. They were already itchy and red hot from all the strange magic flowing from around here. If I unfocused my eyes just a bit, I could see the glow. "See, I have healing hands."

Comments

[capi.livejournal.com]

*sucks in a deeeeeeep breath*

Oh!!! How cool is *that*????!!!!!! *LOL* You shoulda seen my face light up when she said that!! *LOL* *poke/tickle* Awwwww.... *LOL*

Let's see if we can't get this sasquatch up and running, eh? *hee*

This is the most exciting episode yet! I can't WAIT for the rest!!! How are your poor overworked hands holding out?? And your finger? Poor finger! Oy!

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Fortunately, the finger isn't the most important digit here. It's doing quite well, thank you. I was hoping that this would be a good chapter. My goal for this weekend was to reach 90 thousand, and by gum, I did it.

I had to do something that mentioned my lil sis. You have no idea how much my writing is because of you. Not your responsibility, you understand. But it is you, and the other readers that drive me to write, and hopefully write well.

So, thank you so much, Capi and those like you. Without you, the StoryTeller would not be.

)))Hugs!(((

[capi.livejournal.com]

Part of me understands why you thank me, but part of me goes "HUH???" cuz i'm the one who should be thanking YOU!! YOU are putting out all these wonderful and wonderous stories for my delight and sustenance! I'm very blessed to be on the receiving end here!!

(((((( mashing hugs ))))))) *grin*

Altho' i had to fight very hard not to ask you to take that one paragraph out of there..... *snort* It's not for me to say. It's YOUR story. Besides, it's wonderful to see me thru *your* eyes! Thank you, lil' brother! I am loving you.

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Which paragraph, Capi? I'll make a note of it and take a look at it when it's all said and done. If it needs to go, then it goes, if it just needs changed, then I'll change it, or if it belongs and is necessary for the story then I'll keep it. In this one book, there are tons of places to improve and change and add and delete.

I thank you because, in all and complete seriousness, the Readers are the only reason I write. I thank you, personally, because every performer finds one person in the audience that he performs to. In my case, she's you, dear. )))Hugs Back!(((

[capi.livejournal.com]

iirc, it's the paragraph right after she says, "How very cool is that?" You talk about your friend capi.... a lot. *heh* Too much, mebbe?

(( hug ))

You are so very welcome, my friend. If i motivate you to share your stories, then GREAT! I'm happy to be your audience. WAY happy!!

::: happy dances right off the end of the stage :::

[shackrlu.livejournal.com]

WooHOO!! I got a Harry and the Henderson's flashback!:-) This was just wonderful!! *HUGS*

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

You know... I didn't even think of Harry. I may use it though. Sherry! You're a genius!