Halcyon's Wake: Faith

Junction

Beth hadn’t heard the last three offers from Smokey for more tea. She was engrossed in the flames of the fire and the deluge of the storm dancing across the cave’s entrance. Zack had only been gone a couple of hours - and she was antsy and anxious.

Just a tad bit lost in her own thoughts.

Lost in wondering, worrying, planning and trying to process this new reality. Lost about Zack - and way lost in what to think about the way he’d looked at her before heading out into the storm. She gazed down at the chipped porcelain mug and the rapidly cooling dregs of the Earl Grey Smokey brewed for her. She held the mug out to him as if in afterthought, then continued to stare at the flames and the million questions that raced through her mind.

Why am I tied to Zack? What am I supposed to do? Where the hell is Lothar? What will Zack find in the storm?… I heard the voices, too - it wasn’t Lothar, though … not to be trusted - can’t be trusted, no- Lothar’s always been there… trust Lothar… but those other voices were equally compelling …

Smokey passed her back the steaming mug of tea, and she caught his eyes for a moment in unspoken thanks. His gaze held her - he knew the heavy thoughts she was brooding over, and the wisdom in his eyes told her to loosen her tongue and share the load - but she still hesitated, blowing over the oily tea, breathing deeply on the soothing bergamot, and let her eyes once again dance to the flames, her analytical mind once again sifting through the myriad questions. Smokey sat back down in his heavily padded campfire chair, a true campfire Cadillac - replete with side desk, lumbar support and three cup-holders. Fifty years between two wives had taught him when to just shut up and watch the fire. She’d talk when she was ready.

The fire pointed flaming fingers of twisting logic at Beth, each tendril another strand of possibility; Lothar was guiding, he knew the path they needed to take. But she was still an officer in the U.S. Air Force - if there still is an air force - or a United States for that matter.

Lotharknew where they needed to go and what to do next, and Alaska would definitely provide more answers - they’d just have to stop at NORAD in Colorado first… maybe? Why am I balking at that idea? Because you know some windbag General will park your ass in Cheyenne Mountain and you’ll get no more answers - THAT’S why. She wanted to talk to Zack and make sure they were on the same game plan - jarhead’s could be such stubborn idiots at times... if he comes back... STOP THAT! - He will be back! Geez, what are you - 14? Get a grip on the emotion, girl, and get to practicality!

Beth hardly noticed Smokey warming up the tea in her hands. After a moment and a mumbled thanks she looked at him and smiled - genuinely this time, and breathed a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Smokey - just a little distracted.”

He patted her affectionately on the leg and sank back into his plush, campfire throne.

“There’s more smoke rolling behind your eyes than this fire is spitting out, girl. Don’t bear the weight of the world on your shoulders, astronaut genius or not.”

Beth seemed calmed by the slight admonition. Patronly advice wasn’t always welcome - but it was usually sound, if you were wise enough to acknowledge it. She nodded contritely, patted his hand affectionately then jumped right into the practical matters of their upcoming journey.

“You told me earlier that finding a salvaged vehicle or airplane wasn’t possible, why, exactly?”

Smokey thumbed a bit of bourbon-soaked tobacco into an old briar pipe, then produced a battered, brass Zippo lighter from his breast pocket.

“I’ve been carrying this lighter since 1963 - but the guts are as worthless as teats on a boar now.” He flipped the cover open, revealing a bunch of white-tipped wooden matchsticks instead of the standard Zippo innards. He reached behind his chair, grabbing a small container of lighter fluid, and flipped the little dispenser tube up. “Watch this,” he said, “this container is full, but don’t blink or you’ll miss it… Liland and refined petroleum don’t seem to agree with one another at all.”

He aimed the container towards Beth’s chest and gave it a healthy squeeze. The stream shot towards her and she instinctively backed up with a squeal - but before it could splash into her chest the stream simply disappeared. No “whoosh” like shooting it into a direct flame - it just silently vanished moments after leaving the container. Smokey’s eyes brightened at her startled expression and he laughed.

“Pretty weird, huh?,” he chuckled, “Wrap your astronaut brain around that for a little while, Missy. You know I’m an engineer - and a pretty darn good one - but I don’t have a clue as to why oil, gasoline - any refined petroleum product for that matter - simply vanishes when exposed to the air… it’s quite intriguing, really - but it’s precisely why internal combustion engines are worthless - and why my grand-daughter’s pine away for a non-petroleum-based fingernail polish.”

Beth reached out for the lighter fluid container, but Smokey shook it from side to side. “Empty as can be and dry as a bone, Beth - as soon as that stream dissipated, so did every other ounce inside.”

“Wow,” Beth managed to squeak out. Her chemistry professor’s would’ve had a heyday with this particular puzzle. “So I guess it’s horsepower to Alaska then,” she sighed. “Liland seems to have some amazing possibilities - but it also seems to have thrown us back to a pre-industrial stage at the same time - bizarre.”

They sat in a companionable silence, listening to the storm noises and the crackle of the fire.

“Smokey,” she said softly, “what is real anymore?”

He puffed thoughtfully on his pipe, tiny curlicues of smoke dancing through the lines of his weathered face, and he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, firelight dancing in his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve lived long enough to safely answer that question, Beth,” a playful twinkle lit up his eyes, and he grinned through his pipestem, “...and I spent too many weekends with Timothy Leary at Berkeley to be the most credible authority you’ll ever find on reality… I introduced him to Peyote, believe it or not.”

Beth doubted he was, but she laughed deeply anyway, and it felt good.

“You’re full of shit, old man,” Hiro said loudly, approaching the fire from the back of the cave, wielding a steaming mug of coffee and waving a silver flask. “Pardon my French, Beth - but he knows I was the one that got Leary into Peyote - he was too stoned all the time back in those days - they don’t call him ‘Smokey’ because he looks like that fire-fighting bear, ya know.” Hiro’s eyes twinkled playfully and he splashed a dollop of whiskey from the flask into Smokey’s mug - then held it out for Beth. She took the flask but didn’t think Earl Grey and whiskey would make a good combination, holding the flask up in tribute and saying “You’re both full of shit - Anthony Russo introduced Leary to psilocybin ’shrooms when he came back from Mexico in the late 50’s - I don’t recall either of your names in his biography.” She enjoyed the look of shock on Smokey and Hiro’s face, then took a long pull on the whiskey. Hiro recovered quickly then whistled approvingly with a cackle.

“Now that’s a gal I could fall in love with, Smoke - ain’t afraid of a little whiskey or calling us on your bullshit… but for the record, Beth - Russo was an asshole that still owes me fifty bucks - and I was the one that went to Mexico with him in ’57 - the broke bastard didn’t have wheels - and barely enough cash to help me with gas when we came back to L.A. with our new-found ’shroom booty - and no matter what he says, I gave Leary a taste of those little buttons of consciousness first; history’s written by the dudes who ended up with all the cash when the dust settles.” He sat back in his chair, took a sip from the flask with a pensive look on his face that spoke of forgotten youth, then added an extra splash of whiskey to his coffee. “I wonder how the hell Zack is doing in this gully-washer,” he mumbled, staring into the flames, “and just what the hell is driving him and his purple eyes…”

Beth sighed, wondering the exact same thing.