I nodded. “To do that would take years of math and someone like the Bookkeeper to figure it out, and that’s if we knew exactly the level of every god’s powers. And we don’t and never will.”
“So how do we do this?” Patty asked. “Are we going to be happy with saving only some dogs and not all?”
I hated that thought. I hated it every time I couldn’t save a single dog.
“No,” I said, “we need all the power to go through one source and out over the entire continent, to form a complete dome of hardened air for a second or two.”
“And who’s going to do that?” The Smoke said.
“We are,” I said. “All four of us together, linked.”
Screamer opened his mouth, then shut it again. Patty just shook her head slowly. The Smoke seemed frozen.
But for the first time in a couple of hours I was starting to feel more confident.
“With the four of us linked, The Smoke can form the dome and make sure we are blocking the right frequency, Screamer can hold us together and add energy, and Patty and I can control and funnel the energy to the shield that The Smoke forms.”
“That’s going to be a lot of power,” Screamer said.
“I don’t think we’ll survive it,” Patty said. “We’re not gods.”
“And that’s why we can do it,” I said. “We’re the workers, the superheroes who get our hands dirty every day saving lives. We don’t need to touch the power, just like a fireman with a powerful hose of water doesn’t touch the water. We just aim it.”
“I hope you’re right, Poker Boy,” The Smoke said.
“If I’m not,” I said, “we’ll be dead and a lot of dogs will be human.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “We only have a few minutes. We need to practice this a few times.”
Screamer nodded for The Smoke to touch his shoulder and then reached for Patty and my hands.
It took us a moment, but then we each settled into our spots in the bigger mind we had created with Screamer’s connection.
I thought directly at The Smoke that he should imagine hardening the air over the booth next to ours in a way that would only block a certain frequency.
He did, and then Patty and I formed an imaginary hose and connected it to the shield to power it. We ran through it twice, then Screamer let us go.
“I want to practice that with Stan feeding us some light energy just before we go.”
Everyone nodded, so once again I called for Stan.
“Almost time,” he said as he appeared, taking us out of time at the same moment.
“One quick practice session,” I said. I quickly explained what we were doing. Stan nodded. “Might just work.”
For Stan, that was as encouraging as he ever got.
Screamer linked the four of us up and we could hear Stan ask, “Ready?”
“Ready,” we said as one, out of four mouths.
He started a slight flow of energy toward us and Patty and I captured it easily into the mouth of the imaginary hose we had formed in our minds and sent it directly to the shield.
Expand the shield, I thought to The Smoke, so that it covers as much as you can with the energy coming to you.
He expanded the shield as Stan increased the energy until the shield covered all of the Las Vegas area. As more energy came in Patty and I let the natural flow expand the size of the hose protecting all of our minds. It worked easily for one god’s worth of energy. Could we hold the containment for over six hundred gods’ energy, all directed at the same spot?
If not, we would be four very dead superheroes.
SIX
Stan jumped the four of us back to the front of what looked like a large auditorium floating high over Las Vegas. We were suddenly standing on a stage facing six hundred very powerful gods who stared at us like we were a bad stage act that was bombing.
The colors and styles of clothing in the room seemed to not only cover every possible color in the rainbow, but almost every age of man. I didn’t recognize more than one or two of them. I could see the Bookkeeper’s bosses, the Gods of Mathematics, in their heavy sweaters and large glasses, but beyond that I had no idea who the rest of the gods were. I was pretty certain I didn’t want to know.
Laverne, still dressed in her business suit and white blouse stepped up beside the four of us and started speaking to the crowd. “We have very little time if we are to avert a disaster of epic proportions. We have four superheroes here who need all of our help to solve this problem.”
She introduced the four of us and which area of the deities we each worked, then said, “Poker Boy, please tell us how we can help your team solve this problem.”
I took a deep breath, dug down deep into the calming poker face and manner that had gotten me through many a stressful tournament, and then with Patty’s hand barely touching my arm for support, I explained what we needed and why.
Around the room I could see heads nodding, clearly thinking our plan would work. Others sat perfectly still, expressionless.
When I finished Laverne stepped forward. “I will help focus the power and contain it as it moves through the four of them so that they will not die from the extreme energy being poured through them.”
I was very, very happy to hear Laverne say that.
She turned to me again. “Poker Boy, how long will we need to hold the shield?”
“Two seconds,” I said, “but it will take a few seconds for us to power up the shield as well, so if the energy can be brought up over the first three seconds, then held for two seconds, it should solve the problem.”
Lady Luck nodded, her expression deadly serious, then turned to the audience. “Thank you all for your help. Please be ready.”
Burt appeared next to Laverne and said, “Twenty seconds.”
“Screamer,” I said and he nodded. He stepped between me and Patty and The Smoke moved in behind him. Then The Smoke put both hands on Screamer’s shoulder while Patty and I took each of Screamer’s hands.
Suddenly we were all together again.
Sure hope this works, the Screamer thought clearly.
Just hold us together no matter what happens, I thought back.
Burt and Laverne stepped in front of us and then turned sideways to the audience facing each other, leaving an opening between them from us to the audience.
“Ten seconds,” Burt said.
Screamer’s grip on my hand tightened.
Form the hose, I thought at Patty and we formed a very thick, very expandable imaginary hose.
“Five seconds,” Burt said.
“Start easy for the first second, then increase the energy,” Laverne said to the gods.
Not a sound could be heard in the huge room as every god sat forward, clearly focused on the task at hand.
Every ounce of energy we have to keep this hose together, I thought to Patty. Keep the shield on frequency, I thought at The Smoke.
“Two, one, Now!” Burt said.
The impact of the first energy staggered both Laverne and Burt, but they both adjusted and the energy hit us, caught by the now seemingly huge imaginary hose in our minds.
Even though Patty and I were focusing all our energy on the hose and holding it in place against the flood of energy, I could see the shield expanding as the energy increased and increased.
Time seemed to slow down as the energy increased. As far as I was concerned, it felt like the hose was the size of a ten-lane interstate and growing, all inside our group minds.
I could feel Patty starting to weaken, so I dug as deep as I could and held. Then I felt her also dig deep and strengthen as well. She was the strongest human I had ever met.
Somehow we held that imaginary hose in our minds together, even as it continued to grow. Just one leak from that stream of energy and we would all be dead. And I wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to Patty.
I could sense a thought from The Smoke that the shield was full and holding.
I could f
eel energy coming from Screamer trying to help me and Patty as much as possible without losing the contact between us he was struggling to hold.
Time stretched and stretched and stretched.
I could feel myself and Patty starting to slip on our hold on the imaginary hose.
The strain was too much.
I couldn’t hold this much longer.
It wasn’t possible.
It’s done! The faint thought came from The Smoke. The radiation is blocked.
“Stop,” I said, hoping that was my out-loud voice.
The energy shut off instantly and all four of us slumped to the stage as one.
Screamer let our hands go and I had the sudden feeling of being alone.
Both Lady Luck and Burt staggered backward as well, then worked to catch their breath.
Slowly a sound filled the air and I looked at Patty, who was coming around and looking at me. It took me a moment to realize what the sound was, then I looked out at the mass of gods. They were all standing and applauding.
We were getting a standing ovation from a room full of gods! What a way to start a new year.
And then after a moment the sound stopped and they all vanished, leaving an empty room with only Stan, Laverne, Burt, and the four of us.
Stan helped me to my feet and I helped Patty. Screamer and The Smoke staggered up as well. My knees felt like they were held together by rubber bands, thin ones, but darned if I was going to fall down again in front of Lady Luck, so I braced my legs and Patty leaned against me and we held each other up somehow.
Laverne and Burt both looked tired as well, and there was actually a little sweat on her forehead that vanished after a moment.
Lady Luck actually could sweat. Who knew?
She thanked each of us for the great work, then looked directly at me. “Once again, Poker Boy, you and your team have saved us. All I can say is thank you yet again.”
She and Burt vanished, leaving a tired-looking, but smiling Stan, the God of Poker. “How about we all go get something to eat? On me.”
“I’m not sure if Madge can handle us three times in one day,” I said. “Especially on the first day of the year.”
“I was thinking more about the buffet at the MGM Grand. Don’t you have some winnings to pick up?”
“I do,” I said, smiling, remembering how my year had actually started with my tradition.
Everyone was nodding at the idea so I said, “Perfect. And besides, I wanted to talk to The Smoke here, see if he might be interested in joining us on a few cases down the road?”
The Smoke smiled, again without showing his teeth, then said, “I would be honored.” Then he turned to Stan. “I hear the buffet at the MGM Grand has some great meat. Not cooked too much, I hope.”
Stan laughed. “You know, you’re as weird as the rest of this bunch. You fit perfectly.”
“That he does,” I said smiling at the werewolf named The Smoke, the newest member of the team.
A moment later the five of us were standing in line for the buffet. Even a god and four superheroes had to stand in line. Even after saving a lot of dogs.
Do you risk your life, your safety, and the women you love for a dream?
Sometimes just a single step from a moving train can provide the answer.
A heart-warming contemporary fantasy story.
THE CALL OF THE TRACK AHEAD
ONE
Today he would jump.
The thought echoed around inside Mason Green’s head and he sat upright in the coach seat, his two small blankets bunching across his lap and over his legs. Finally, after all the days, months, years of trying to decide, today he would jump.
He had decided.
The train rocked in its familiar motion of smooth track, a faint, consistent click-click as the wheels of the car ticked away the time. It was still pitch-black outside the cold, slightly fogged windows. The only light came from above the doors leading into the car forward and the car behind. The air held a chill, and around him everyone slept, the sounds of snoring mixed with deep breathing and the rhythmic clicking of the wheels on the tracks.
He knew those sounds well.
For as long as he could remember, he had called the front aisle seat of the fifth car back from the dining car his home. As of last evening, there were sixteen cars behind his. Sometimes there were more, sometimes less. Since the train never stopped, he had no idea how those cars were added or how the constant stream of new people came on board.
They just did.
He couldn’t remember coming on board either. But he liked being here at first. He had always loved trains as a kid. Since his parents had both worked long hours at thankless jobs, and his room was in the basement of his house, they hadn’t cared what he did down there as long as he didn’t get in the way of the laundry room. So, in the unfinished large room next to his half-finished bedroom, he had built a very intricate model train layout, focusing at times on it instead of his studies or even girls. He built mountains, tunnels, rivers and lakes with train bridges over them. It became so real, that at times it helped him escape from the arguments going on upstairs between his parents.
As he had gotten older, he had dreamed of riding trains and seeing the country. He had a shelf full of books about trains in his room. He even thought of maybe going off and working for the railroad, but with all the pressures of college and starting his new corporate job, he had just never gotten around to it.
But more than anything, from his earliest memories, he had wanted to start and run his own toy store. He hadn’t gotten around to that yet, either. In fact, he hadn’t done anything at all with his life except school and work, right up to the point he found himself on the train.
He had been in his parents’ old house, after his father’s funeral, down in the basement, staring at the remains of his old train layout. His mother had just left it there for the decade since he had moved out. At times over the years, he had packed up parts of it, hoping to rebuild it someday when he had his own house. He hadn’t done that, so most of it still remained in his parents’ basement, covered in dust just like his dreams.
He had been sitting there in the basement, staring at the old track and the mountains and lakes he had built when the next thing he realized, he was on the train.
No memory of how, no memory of what had happened between that moment in the basement and his first waking moment on the train.
For some reason, he sort of knew that no time had passed. And that no time was passing outside the train, either. But it felt like it passed in a normal manner on the train. He just didn’t age.
Now he had been on the train for a very long time. Years and years. Over those long years, he had lived in every car, seen every type of human come through. Some people had become friends. Others enemies. He could barely remember most of their names. But almost without exception, they had all jumped. Taking the leap from a moving train car was the only way off, since the train never stopped, and everyone seemed to take it at one point or another.
Today he would, too.
Today he would jump.
Paula Simpson, his seatmate for the past four months, snored softly, her head on a pillow against the window. Even in sleep, she smelled of fresh peaches and the great outdoors.
That was one of the many things that had drawn him to her when they met over lunch one afternoon in the dining car. She had blue eyes, just like his, and she liked that. They both had blonde hair, and she liked that, too, even though his was thinning. Her nose was short and, as she called it, “perky.” He had more of a Roman nose, which she said fit great with hers when they kissed.
Two days after they met, she moved her stuff up to the window seat beside him. She was special, the most special person he could remember meeting on the train.
Over the months, they talked a lot about their lives, about how they grew up, about their parents, about their dreams, and about jumping. Everyone on the train talked a lot about jumping.
; Since she was new on the train, and he had been on board for so long, he had shown her all the normal places to jump. Passengers jumped at all places along the train’s circular route through the mountains. Some jumped into the lakes or rivers as the train passed over the bridges. Mason was sure that none of them survived, but Paula wasn’t. She said that if they hit the water just right it would be fine. It depended on how well they planned it and how much control they had.
Some passengers went crazy and didn’t pay any attention at all to where they jumped. They would step boldly into the night and let fate do with them as it would.
Mason doubted any of them made it and Paula agreed. She said planning was the important part of success, not jumping blindly.
Mason had always wondered why, when the train came around again in eighteen days, there was never a sign of any of the jumpers, and why no one ever came back on board. He took that to mean that he would only have one chance – and that thought had scared him even more, causing him to stay seated month after month, year after year, just thinking about what he should do with his only real chance.
Paula said the reason that there were no sign of the jumpers, or anyone else along the tracks, was obvious. The world took care of the failures and the ones who made it moved on, away from the train, into their lives.
Actually it didn’t matter to Mason. He firmly believed that most of the jumpers failed, and for some reason he couldn’t shake that fear.
It was that belief that had kept him on the train for so long.
But he did have a plan in which he thought he could survive a jump. Carefully worked out and thought through, he had talked the plan over with Paula on the third afternoon after she moved to the seat beside him.
“There,” he had said, pointing ahead into the wind as they stood arm in arm on the open deck at the back of the last car. The day had been crisp and cold and the wind cut at them. Mason had never had a coat, so he had a blanket draped over his shoulders. Paula had on the ski parka and gloves she had arrived with.
Smith's Monthly #27 Page 3
