The Event Series (Book 4): Filling in the Cracks

by Thomas Larson

  As I walked through the door I felt I should have had my six gun on my hip and with spurs jingle jangling. Yes, it was very rustic, and part of that was to capture the image of that old mining town and the wild and wooly days gone by. But it was fun. The bar, that magnificent bar, dark, polished wood, pine, pine I think. The ceiling was high, vaulted I think is the term, with hanging chandlers that had elk horns worked into the design. The walls had some old photos of the days gone by, although they could have been recreations and over in a far corner were about a dozen slot machines.

  The place itself was pretty empty, rainy days in September are not prime tourist season, especially mid-week so I had pick of the tables, again, dark pine, kind of chewed up and distressed. The waitress, and older woman kind of stocky came over.

  “Howdy, would you like something to drink?” she asked as she gave me a menu.

  I looked at her name tag, ‘Lilly’, I had to wonder if that was her real name or if it was just for effect.

  “Yes, Lilly, let me have a club soda, with lemon or lime.”

  “You got it,” she said as she walked away.

  I looked over the menu and decided on the Hickok burger. Basically a bacon cheese burger with fries.

  Lilly returned and set the seltzer in front of me. “What can I get you?” she asked.

  “Let me have the Hickok burger, medium rare.” I told her.

  “Regular, curly or sweet potato fries?”

  “Oh, ah, regular, thanks”

  “You got it,” she said as she turned and walked toward the bar. I hadn’t noticed before that it was just her and I in the place.

  I know I had a couple of minutes so I got up and walked to the slot machines, a good old Red White and Blue dollar machine. I put my hundred dollar bill in the slot and began to play, three credits a pull. I played my typical gamble’s routine. Press the single coin button three times, pull the lever of the one armed bandit, twist in my chair and see what I won.

  Dink, Dink, Dink, pull, twist, look, bar, double bar, nothing.

  Dink, Dink, Dink, pull, twist, look, Red 7, nothing, Red 7.

  Dink, Dink, Dink, pull, twist, look, nothing, nothing, nothing….$3.

  Dink, Dink, Dink, pull, twist, look, not happening, I was nearing the end of my hundred.

  Dink, Dink, Dink, pull, twist, Blue 7, White 7, White 7…..$240. I guess lunch was paid for I thought to myself.

  The gentle tap on my shoulder almost made me jump out of my skin. It was Lilly, “Your burger is ready, Oh, nice hit,” she said with a smile.

  “Oh, thanks,” I smiled. My heart rate was almost back to normal.

  I cashed out of the machine, it was the paper receipt, I did always like to hear the clunking of the coins, but winnings are winnings.

  I returned to my table and had my burger, a little more medium than rare, but tasty.

  I paid the tab and headed back to the RV, I was tempted to press my luck but decided that I would talk away a winner, I’ll leave the big jackpot for another play or another day.

  It is funny about slot players, and I guess gamblers in general, we are superstitious, or kind of routine oriented. We have our casino clothing items, lucky shirt, belt, ring, or shoes that we have had worn when we won and have assigned it as status of good luck charm. And of course, we have our good luck charm, lucky blue pig key chain, or lucky feather that is attached to our player’s club card.

  For many of us there is also the routine like I pointed out above; Dink, Dink, Dink, pull, twist, then look. Others will run their hand across the glass wiping away the bad luck, or some who slam the max play button while muttering prayers, incantations or curses.

  Oh, and did I mention lucky machines? We all have our favorites, Red White and Blue, Blazing 7’s, Triple Stars, each of us have that one or two machines that we love, and generally know where every one of that type of machine is in our ‘home’ casino.

  Sorry, got on a little roll there about the casinos and gambling.

  So as I drove out of Deadwood I was a little surprised, I thought the situation, one other person in the restaurant, would have been the perfect opportunity for a ‘visit’, but nope, nothing. But then Asuna did promise.

  I drove back to I-90 and then into Gillette, SD where I turned right and headed up toward Devil’s Tower. I got there about 3:30 and took some time to stop and watch a couple of climbers, little white dots on the side of the basalt monolith. I got queasy just thinking about being up there on the rock face. I could not even imagine trying that.

  I drove over to the east side of the tower and there I checked into my campground for the evening. It was the Bear Lodge KOA. It had a little motor lodge attached to it. I would spend the night here, under the stars of the western sky, free of the dust and ambient light of the east coast. It was mostly empty, like the other sites I had visited, a couple of campers in tents and another RV, a big one, that was it.

  I had a little dinner, some pork chops that I had picked up on the way in. I smiled as I thought to myself that maybe I should have opted of Spam.

  Ning wasted no time on her cat food. She was funny tonight, almost seemed nervous. She quickly ate, looking around more than usual and then took up a place in the corner of the bed alcove. That was not typical for her.

  It was dark by about 8:00 and I sat outside just staring at the tower, I remembered it from ‘Close Encounters’, it was where the aliens arrived. It was beautiful at night, the stars, the arm of the Milky Way gave it an outline. It was a little chilly so I ran into the van and grabbed a blanket. I sat by the little campfire that I built in the fire pit and just breathed in the slight smell of the wood smoke and stared at the flames.

  Captain’s Log: Day 6, Sept 23nd 2016

  I remembered sitting down at the fire pit last night and spending some time staring at the flames. As I sat lost in thought a couple of the other campers from one of the tents nearby came over, more like hobbled over.

  “Well there young feller, you look a little lonely tonight and that is a pretty nice fire you got going. Mind if us old folks join you?” asked the old guy.

  I looked up from my camp chair, “sure, sit, it is a wonderful night. I’ll go grab a couple of chairs.”

  They were a pair to be sure, weathered, wrinkled, old he had long hair in a pony-tail and beard. He reminded me of an old 60’s hippy. She, well she was close to his age, a kind of Woodstock generation by the a few braids in her hair and the Native American / western movie attire.

  But to my surprise they didn’t even hesitate but sat on the ground on the other side of the fire. I was shocked considering they each had canes or walking stick that from what I could see had been nicely carved with little animal figures and decorated with feathers and pieces of fur.

  There was a silence, just the gentle wind in an apple tree nearby, and an occasion howl, or call of an animal or bird.

  After a few minutes, “So where are you folks from?”

  The old man smiled, “Now, we are from here. But once, the East Coast.”

  Hmmmm, I thought, yup, hippies from Woodstock.

  The woman smiled, “Not what you think, young man, we have our story, your story.”

  I stared at her for a moment, she was black, dark skinned, and wrinkled yet her eyes, the window to the soul, shined, there was something about the eyes.

  “I am Turtle, this is Raven,” she said as she pointed to the male next to her.

  Oh crap, how did I not see this, they’re, visitors, characters, from the story.

  I smiled, and nodded, “Matt, Tanya, welcome, I am honored. I have expected you, and this place makes sense for our visit.”

  “Thank you Tom, we are happy to finally meet you in person.” Matt/Raven said as he pulled a bottle from the inside pocket of his fringed leather jacket. “A toast to this meeting.”

  “You know I gave up the demon rum long ago.”

  “Yes, but this is not that kind of spirit, so have no fear. Just an herbal tea,” he said.

&nb
sp; I went into the van and got three small cups, red Solo cups, which Matt/Raven partially filled and as we sat by the fire nursed them. It was a fruity nutty berry flavor, just a little tart.

  “So, now, let me ask, because I never really wrote about it. What happened to you two?” I asked.

  They looked at each other and smiled, “well, a lot and nothing really.” Matt/Raven replied.

  “I am not sure I understand, a lot and nothing?

  Tanya/Turtle began and told me that in the early days after they left the group they headed west, they were sort of guided that way, something had told them that was where they should go. She said that they knew they had a task, although initially they didn’t know what it was, other than to survive.

  “We had skills, from when we were at Romanica and in the transition to the Archive, although we spent only a few nights there before we moved on, to visit Helen at the college. But then you wrote about that, and about our return to the Archive, and then our heading west at the end of September. And that was where the story ended for us,” Tanya told me.

  “So I guess what we need to add is the what happened next,” added Matt.

  I thought about that, and wondered, what did happen next. And as I did I felt light, kind of floaty light. The fire pit took on a little different glow, more pink than yellow, and the smoke, it smelled different, sweeter, stronger, yet it didn’t bite the nostrils.

  I looked at Matt / Raven and Tanya / Turtle. Behind them were now animals, and birds. A hawk sat on a tree that was behind them, it was joined by other birds. A coyote (Lucy?) walked up and sat next to Matt, a mountain lion (Momma?) sat next to Tanya. There were other animals that also joined in the circle, bear, elk, turkey, they all gathered and just sat.

  Matt and Tanya changed, they became…….a raven and a turtle.

  The voices, Matt, Tanya, and others flooded into my head, and yet, even though it was a rush of noise I was understanding and hearing each one individually, telling me about their quest, their powers and what they brought to Matt / Raven and Tanya / Turtle to be passed on to the new ones, the clones, the reborn humanity.

  Those voices spoke of the learning, the reconnection with the Earth, the sky, the plants and animals. Each had their message, turkey talked of sacrifice, bear and otter of gender, even little mouse had a part and spoke of awareness of what was around. Squirrel gathered, Grouse danced, horse talked of power, gentle power. The voices spoke of the learning, the reconnection with the Earth, the sky, the plants and animals.

  As I stared at the Raven and Turtle, Matt and Tanya had completely morphed. They spoke as one, “We are Father Sky, and Earth Mother, you knew who we were, and now see what we have become. How we moved from the people of the cave, the Archive and on to our trek to Bear Lodge, our home, the home of the new stewards of the Earth.

  As I listened the voices became quieter, and drifted to a soft gentle buzz. The fringe of darkness gently closed in, and light disappeared.

  I awoke this morning as the sun climbed over the horizon. I was in the camp chair, a red solo cup in hand. I was alone. What is above is what I recall of last night, I wanted to get it down before I had it slip from my mind.

  Over coffee and Cheerios I considered staying one more night at Bear Lodge, but I knew that I had received all that I was going to receive. I had known that I would visit with Matt and Tanya, but what had occurred was not what I had expected.

  As I cleaned the camp site I saw them, the foot, paw and hoof prints on the other side of the fire pit. And as I looked at them I though how ironic that it would be a fire pit that the visit would come.

  It was a quiet ride this morning, I did not even turn on the satellite radio, I was lost in thought about last night’s visit, my head full of what had been shared. Ning was behind my neck as I drive.

  I was getting into the mountain regions of western Wyoming and Montana. My original plane was to stop in the area of Butte. But I just felt like driving today, instead of the 300 miles or so I usually drive I ended up with about 7 hours behind the wheel and ended for the night in a town called Deer Lodge in Montana. The name caught and intrigued me. I could have gone a little further down the road, but Deer Lodge seemed to call to me.

  Deer is thought to be the ‘gentle’ totem. Perhaps that was why it beckoned me. I arrived at about 5:00 pm and found a little pull off in the town into the Grant-Kohrs Ranch Historic Site. There was a parking lot that allowed overnight stays. I would have stayed on the south side of town but the prison farm that was there made me a little nervous.

  The ranch site parking lot was still close enough to the Main Street area so a short walk brought me to a little restaurant, Yak Yak’s, a kind of diner at the intersection of Main and California. The place was kind of busy for a Thursday night, I guess, not being a regular.

  I opted for the meatloaf, I don’t know, I have never gone wrong with diner meatloaf, mashed and corn. And on this occasion I was not disappointed.

  As I thought I still considered what had taken place lasting night, the visit. The fill in for what happened to Matt and Tanya. The bond that they grow with the Sky and the Earth and how when the time came were there to share it with those who come later, the clones.

  The dish boy stopped in front of me as he was emptying the bus pans behind the counter. The clack of the dishes as he loaded them into his cart snapped me out of my thoughts and back to reality.

  “You know we all died, right?” he said.

  My head snapped up and I looked at him. He was an older guy, grey streaks in his hair, lanky, in a dingy white t-shirt. His face was pock-marked from a bout with acne years earlier. I guessed him in his 40s.

  “Yeah, we held on in the town, Prince George, up there in Canada, eh.”

  The dish washer did not seem the brightest of people, and this may sound arrogant and I do not mean it to be, but if you are a dishwasher in your 40s, well perhaps life has not been so kind to you.

  “Prince George?” I asked.

  “Yes, where Matt and Tanya spread the poison to us.” Said a distinguished looking older gentleman who had sat down on the counter seat next to me.

  “I, ah”

  “Doctor Smedley, I was in Prince George, and I guess it was as much my fault as it was theirs. I thought the pills were okay, but then so did they. Just turned out to be not the case.”

  “I, ah”

  “No, it was okay, it wasn’t really the pills that killed us, right Jimmy?” said the gentleman.

  “Nope, it wasn’t, we did fine,” replied the dishwasher.

  “See, the pills made it so we couldn’t have kids, but then the only ones that might have been able to reproduce was Anne, Anne Landry and a couple of the younger girls, Renee and Belle. It would not have been enough to keep us going, Prince George was a ghost town, and we all knew it.”

  I saw a twinge in Jimmy, he liked one of those girls, I wondered if he ever had the chance to settle in with one of them.

  Jimmy was looking down toward the bus pan, “I buried them, one by one I put them in the ground, I had to. I was the last one. Dylan, Mr. Dylan was first, then the Doctor Smedley and Ralph, and Nigel and Anne, and Belle. Renee and I held on the longest, but it wasn’t that long. It was the flu I think, the flu that got us.”

  The Doctor picked up the story, “Yes, we had a flu, and it was what killed us, we had nothing to stop it, we all had it and in the mine we were too close. Maybe if it hit in the summer or spring when we were outside, but it was winter, and colder than it had ever been.”

  Jimmy was in tears, “Renee, she was last, she was…. I thought she was gonna make it. She seemed to be getting better, she seemed,” and he broke into sobs.

  “It is okay Jimmy, you did right by her.” Said the doctor.

  “So the town, that little mining town just died?” I actually felt a twinge of guilt. It is strange, but these people, these fictional characters mean something to me, they are part of me, and even though they are made up, I am connected to them.
>
  “Hey, Tom, it is alright, no need to feel bad, you gave us something we did not have, you gave us life, even if it is just on a few pages in a book” Smedley said with a smile.

  “Yeah, a book not too many people have read,” I replied with a weak smile.

  “True, but still we lived.” Smedley laughed.

  “Yeah,”

  I looked off to the windows to the left of me, then as I turned back Kim was standing there, she was my waitress. “So some dessert tonight?” she asked.

  Jimmy, and Doctor Smedley were gone.

  “No, I am trying to quit, but thanks. Just my check.”

  I paid my bill and walked back onto Main Street. As I walked back toward the RV and Ning I was a little melancholy about the visit I just had. No more writing tonight.

  Captain’s Log: Day 7, Sept 24th 2016

  It was a fitful night sleep, dreams, hauntings that I can’t remember other than they were apocalyptic.

  Bacon and eggs at Yak Yak’s this morning, with no visitors, a different busboy, a real busboy. The restaurant was busy and noise

  On the road by 9:00, back on I-90. Goal today is Medical Lake in Washington. It is only a 4 ½ hour drive, but there are some places I want to stop to take pictures. I am in the mountains now, and I feel at home. As I passed though Montana, near Missoula, I crossed the highest point on I-90, but there is something about the Idaho area, the mountains seem higher, and more, I don’t know, mountain-y?

  There comes a point in a trip or vacation where you kind of say, I have had enough. Tonight will be my last overnight out here, tomorrow I will be in Seattle and tomorrow night winging my way back home. I am ready, I have had enough.

  I am getting cranky, I can see it in my writing. I think even Ning senses it, she slept in the back of the van rather than behind my neck or on the passenger seat.

  The little campground at Medical Lake was night, quiet as most of them have been on the trip. The down side is that it is not that far south of Fairchild AFB. It is a refuel station that puts up KC135s for refueling missions and as a result all day big 4 engine planes are coming and going, it is not a quiet place.