joegoda | The Kansas Incident.

36557 / 50000 words. 73% done!

Sedan was a bit busier this time around, what with it being a Monday and all. Big rigs were hauling their loads up highway 99 heading to and from wherever to wherever, and folks were out and about doing their daily stuff.

We followed a Yellow Yellow truck up 99 and onto the part of Sedan's Main Street, that is also highway 99. He was probably heading across to 75, and that would take him to Wichita, if I was to guess, and I guess I just did. Yellow Yellow trucks are really just the Yellow truck line. But I've seen them so many times on the road and been stuck behind them enough that I've called them Yellow Yellow ever since I was a child. It's because the word 'Yellow' is printed on each of the back doors, so it became Yellow Yellow.

Between Chautauqua and Sedan, I sent out my kite, the bit of me that I send out to the Soular Winds to scout and look around. It's something that my grandfather sort of taught me. He taught me about whirly-gigging kite string. All you have to do is take a rectangular piece of paper, put a hole in its center, slice from one side of the paper to the hole and slip the paper over a kite string while the kite is flying. The wind will take the paper and move it up, and up, all the way up until it meets the kite.

I do the same thing, but instead of a string and a kite, I let my mind free from my body and send it out among the thousands of lights and colors that makes up the world of the Otherwhere. The Otherwhere is an amazing place, and it's easy to get lost out there, among the sights and colors.

I can't really do it justice to explain it or describe the feeling when my mind goes a-wandering. On some television show I watched years ago, they called it 'far-seeing', but that's not it. I think, if anything, it's more like 'far-sensing', like trying to sniff out a gas leak in a crowded building. The ancients used to call something like what I do scrying, but that's not quite it either. I'm not looking into the future, and I'm not trying to see signs to direct me. I'm just out there wandering, trying to catch a scent of what I'm looking for.

From my viewpoint, it kinda looks like this: first, I look at something that allows me to unfocus my eyes. It can be anything as long as it's blurry. Like streetlights through a window sort of blurry. Once my eyes truly unfocus, which is harder than it sounds, the blurriness is replaced by ... I guess the best way to describe it is a haze. A haze comes over the world and I can toss my mind, my consciousness, out onto something like a wind and go riding that wind out into the world. I call that wind the Soular Wind because it is sort of made up of the souls of everything living and because Soular Wind sounds cool.

Once I'm riding the Soular Winds, I don't see the countryside likes it's a big aerial view. I see the world as it really is, I think, if you get rid of all this physical distraction. It's all colors and lights and shifting mist. Like everything shines and shifts. I call what I see the signatures of life energy from just about everything that has life. The earth itself is like that, full of life, everywhere you look. The misty parts are the dead parts. Roads, buildings, and solid stone mountains all appear as a dark translucent fog, except mountains are literally teaming with life, so it's like watching a fog full of fireflies. Buildings are alive too, but they look like tall fountains with dots of sparkly fires.

That doesn't even begin to explain what I really see. That's just kind of an image so I can translate. If you add that everything is connected in someway, and I mean everything, then you get this tremendous crosshatching effect that just makes it more confusing to try to describe. Everything is connected, some greatly, some in a minor way, some hardly at all, but it's all connected and sharing energy between each other like sending signals over wires.

Now, when I go looking for something specific, I send my whirly-gig up to where my 'eyes' are, and I look to see what's connected to it, and how strong. That is, if I have a whirly-gig to send up. If I don't, then I have to construct as best I can an image of what I'm looking for and hope that the signature I've created matches pretty close. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. It's not something I do very often because it tires me out something fierce, which is why the overdose on sugar, back in Chautauqua. I couldn't afford to be tired or cranky on this trip.

The signature I went looking for was specifically Christie. I didn't know her all that well, but she had touched my hand and we had spoken, so I could build a fairly accurate picture of her in my mind. Big magic, big heart, a bit elderly, very kind and cranky at the same time. Sort of like me, but with more elderly. And she was nearby. That would make it a whole lot easier, since I didn't have to sort out all the other signatures.

From the vantage point of my kite, I found Sedan pretty easily. It stood out like the only lit bulb on a string of Christmas lights, glowing with a deep and somber brown. Brown means sadness, folks, at least out in the Otherworld. Brown doesn't glow very well. It tends to smolder and looks like mold on fire.

Among the brown of Sedan, there were other colors as well. There were happy blues of people playing, though where they might be, I had no idea. I didn't see any when I was there. The blues could just have been animals chasing each other just for fun. There were streaks of yellow as cars moved from place to place and the drivers were calm and fairly content. Orange tinged with red was a prominent color, and that was probably from Ammit. I have a feeling he had been pretty angry since I slipped his grasp.

A dark indigo flicked into my vision. Indigo highlighted in hues of blues and greens. That must be Christie, as it sat a bit a way from the angry burnt orange of Ammit. I sent my kite a-flying that direction and shot a query that direction.

Now, in the Otherwhere, when riding the Soular Winds, there aren't any words. It's not like dialing someone up on the phone and saying hello. It's all impressions and feelings and images. I sent the impression of *Question* with the added *Friendly* and added an image of Bob Plumb and an image of me for a calling card.

The indigo flashed to a lighter violet and responded back with the image of a pixie eating a chocolate chip cookie and the impression of *Worry*. Definitely a Christie type of connection.

I shot back the impression of *Movement* and the image of six knights on horseback, fully armored and prepared to do battle.

Christie replied with *Question*

I sent her an image of a clock showing 1:30 on it.

I received *Agreement* from her.

I pulled back from the Winds and into my head. As soon as I did, I got Christie's voice in my head saying, "Glad you are on your way and brought friends. There are police all over town, and I think they are looking for you. Be careful. Come to the house."

Now, I'm not a telepathic sort. I can receive if the sender is really strong, but I can't send worth a darn. I tried to send a reply saying nothing more than "Message received," but all I got from it was a bit of a headache. I gave up and told Tim and Sherry what I had gotten.

"Christie's expecting us," I told them, "and she warns us to be careful. There's cops out and about looking for me."

"Then we better hide you," Tim said.

Sherry helped Tim get his jacket off and she took hers off too. These she tossed over the back of her seat and covered me up as best as she could.

"We're pulling onto Main Street," Tim said over his shoulder. "There's a big truck in front of us. What am I looking for?"

"We're looking for Sherman Street," I told him from under my cover of coats. "She's the first house on the right, once you turn onto it. Look for a blue Subaru."

"Gotcha," Tim said. "There's a lot of cops out. I see two... no, three cars."

"Probably the entire police force," I said. "What are they doing?"

"Just driving around, it looks like," Sherry said. "Wait a minute... one of them is doing a u-turn and following behind April."

"Then don't turn!" I thought quickly. "Just keep going and pull up at the Emmett Kelly museum. It's one block further on your right."

"And then what?" Tim asked. "Get out and do the tourist thing?"

"I knew I loved you for a reason, chum" I nodded under my cover. "Get out and walk up to the door. April or one of the others will probably join you to ask what is going on. Tell them exactly what we're doing, the cops can't hear you. Then wait until the cops have moved on and head back to Sherman Street. You can get there by..."

"Yeah, know it all," Sherry chided. "All we have to do is circle the block. Who's doing the driving here?"

"Okay," I grumbled. "Shutting up now."

I lay silently under my cover and waited. I felt Tim turn a bit and pull the car to a stop, then heard the door open and felt the car shift when he got out.

"April's pulling over next to us," Sherry relayed to me. "Now, Craig is getting out and walking over to Tim. Now the two of them are talking." There was a pause and then she continued. "The police are moving past us, but really slowly. They're checking out the cars, I think, and they are looking really hard at us. Stay down, okay?"

"Not a problem," I muttered.

I heard Sherry light a cigarette. She's been trying to quit for a while, just like me, but nerves do tend to make you really want to light one up. I've had more success, I think, because I'm kind of not completely connected to this world any more. At least, that's what I'll claim, because I haven't really wanted nor needed a smoke for a few months.

"The cops are moving away, and the boys are going into the museum!" She sounded excited and I could hear her breathing quicken. "Now what?"

"Wait for it, hon," I told her. "Everything will be all right. OH! While we're here, look across the street. You see that big two story building with the boards on the windows?"

A moment of silence and then, "Yes, I see it."

"That's the book depository," I said. "Do you see any one in or around it?"

"I see a door that's opened," she told me. "I don't see anyone walking around it, but there's a light in it."

"Damn," I scowled. "Lawrence must know I'll be going there. Must have leaked something out in the dream or something." I pondered for a moment. "Or, maybe he just has something to hide."

"Or," she offered, "maybe someone from the school is in there tidying up or moving books in or something."

"Maybe," I sort of agreed. "It's possible." I sighed. "Well, I'll find out tonight, I bet."

"Tim and Craig are coming out of the museum," Sherry said. "They're smiling and talking."

"Hmm," I hmmed.

I felt the driver door open and Tim get in.

"It's a cool museum!" He sounded excited. "I think I'll want to go back later."

"I just hope there is a later," I muttered.

"There's always a later," Tim said, "where you're concerned. It'll all turn out okay."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence," I said.

"You don't feel it?" Sherry's voice carried concern. "I think you have a wonderful plan, except for the end part, where you don't know what you're doing."

"Ah well," I said semi-cheerfully, "no plan is one hundred percent. Still, I'm glad I have ninety percent of one."

"Better than what you had at Redbud," Tim chipped in. He started the car and I felt us move out and back on the road. "So, it's just up the road and around the block, right?"

"Right," I told him. "Go down Sherman until you see her blue car. Park anywhere, then we'll figure out how to get me into the house."

"Okie doke," he said.