Land of Nod, The Artifact

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Land of Nod, The Artifact Page 5

by Gary Hoover

“It doesn’t take much to beat your scrawny back-end,” she taunted, but never threw the second punch.

  Jeff was glad for the distraction. His mind was racing trying to think of what he should tell them when they pressed him for details of just why he was out there battling a snake-creature with a metal club.

  He had absolutely no idea where he was. It looked basically like earth . . . but those creatures he saw in the forest certainly weren’t from any part of earth he knew. But he was talking to two humans who spoke perfect English . . . but the flying car certainly seemed a sign that they weren’t in Oshkosh.

  If he told them the truth, would they assume he was crazy? Or worse, would they actually believe he was from another dimension and fear he was the opening wave of an invading army? He couldn’t imagine he would be particularly threatening . . . but threatening or not, it seemed if he told the truth and they believed him, he stood a good chance of ending up in a government lab getting an anal probe.

  . . . But, he had a feeling . . .

  He had a strong feeling he could trust these two people who had saved his life. It was more than just seeing that they had kind faces. It was almost as if there was a voice in the back of his head saying: Trust them.

  Jeff shook his head to clear out any unwanted voices. This didn’t seem the time or place to go loopy.

  He ran through several options in his head.

  . . . Seems like the less I say, the better. But how can I avoid the obvious questions? Can I just say I don’t want to talk? Would that seem rude . . . or, worse, evasive?

  He realized time was quickly running out and felt he needed to come up with something very soon. . .

  Amnesia! That might work.

  “So why were you out there?” Nahima asked as if on cue.

  “Uhhhhhh . . .” Jeff did his best to conjure a vacant, confused expression. “I’m . . .” He paused and pretended to be deep in thought, then he tried to look nervous and apprehensive. “I’m not sure.”

  He began to fidget nervously. He found the nervousness wasn’t very difficult to fake. “I . . . I mean . . . I . . . can’t think of who I am. . . I mean . . . I know my name’s Jeff, but I can’t remember anything else . . . I can’t remember where I live or who my parents are . . .” He looked off toward the horizon and pretended to be trying to regain his lost memories.

  Baldwin and Nahima looked at each other with open mouths.

  “Whooaah . . .” Baldwin broke the silence. “That’s weird.” He turned toward Nahima. “What should we do? Should we take him to the hospital?”

  Jeff cringed. He hadn’t thought of that. Once he was in the hospital, how would he get out? Would they hold him until someone claimed him?

  “I don’t know . . .” Nahima seemed to sense Jeff’s discomfort. “. . . maybe we could take him home first . . . see what dad thinks.”

  Chapter 14:

  The vehicle was quiet, smooth and fast. It glided, seemingly effortlessly, over an arid, rocky landscape. There was almost no vegetation: Some dry brush and scattered cacti, but other than that, not much more than sand and rock. Jeff could see what looked like a small city in the distance through a bluish haze.

  As they got closer, Jeff realized that the bluish haze was some sort of energy . . . wall. There were thousands of thin, metal poles stretching to the left and right as far as Jeff could see. The poles were hundreds . . . maybe thousands of feet high, each one was about 100 feet from the next, and between each pole was a light blue, mostly transparent wall of energy.

  Nahima slowed the car, pushed a couple buttons on her dash, and the energy wall between the two poles closest to them disappeared. She flew through the opening. Jeff looked over his shoulder as they flew through, and he and saw the energy field re-appear between the poles when they were about 100 feet past.

  Jeff thought about that for a moment. In a way he was glad to see something between him and the forest.

  . . . But am I locked in now . . . locked in . . . where?

  Just inside the wall, there was a dramatic change in landscape. Outside the wall, the land was rocky and dry, but now they were flying over farmland. The crops weren’t as lush and green as those that Jeff was used to in New Jersey, but the shift from desert to farmland was still dramatic. Jeff saw some sprinklers going, but they didn’t seem to be able to give the crops as much as they needed.

  Now they were passing over farm houses and something that looked like a fairly typical rural area - similar to what Jeff was used to back home. The most noticeable difference he saw was that the buildings seemed to use rounder shapes in their architecture rather than the rectangular buildings and straight lines Jeff was used to. There were some wheeled vehicles - some looked like futuristic tractors and some looked more like futuristic cars. Jeff took some comfort in seeing good old-fashioned wheels, but he could also see other flying vehicles visible in the distance.

  As they closed the distance between them and the city, Jeff could see that the taller buildings toward the center of the city were also more rounded than those back home. But they were a good distance away and difficult to clearly see.

  At a distance Jeff estimated to be about 5 - 10 miles past the energy wall and roughly half-way to the tall buildings he could see in the distance there was a dense collection of small buildings. The suburban area, Jeff assumed.

  Nahima slowed as she approached a domed house. There was a driveway and what Jeff recognized as a garage door even though it didn’t look like a typical garage door. It was wide enough for four or more cars, and rather than going up, it slid into the ground to open. Nahima pulled into the huge garage and settled into an open area. Jeff saw that there were two other vehicles. One vehicle had wheels and looked like a futuristic, but not otherwise unusual car. The other one was resting on landing ‘feet’ and Jeff assumed it flew.

  “Well, we made it,” Baldwin said. “I always feel fortunate when I can say that after a flight with Nahima.” He opened his door, hopped out and made an exaggerated gesture of kissing the ground.

  Nahima shot him a dirty look. “You just wait until the next time we’re out. I’ll show you how much fun flying with me can be.” Her face broke into an evil, eerie grin.

  “You don’t have to convince me,” Baldwin said. “I’ve seen it before.”

  “But you’ve never seen me REALLY trying to scare you until you plooch your pants,” she said, still grinning. “Next time, you better bring some diapers.”

  Jeff fumbled with the door latch. It was an unfamiliar design, but, after some fiddling, he felt a lever move slightly and there was a ‘click’. The door opened slightly. Jeff pushed it enough to get out and then - following Nahima and Baldwin’s lead - gently closed it again.

  He realized he still had the bat in his hand, but thought it might seem rude to walk into someone’s house carrying a baseball bat – particular a society that only knew it as a ‘metal club’ - so he tossed it back into the car.

  Jeff looked around, fascinated by what he was seeing. The garage looked similar to a typical garage . . . but there were subtle differences. There were various tools and vehicles, but while they were recognizable as tools and vehicles, they didn’t look exactly like any tools or vehicles he had seen before.

  Nahima and Baldwin spoke perfect English, but there was that subtle accent. He had also seen some writing on signs, and he could see some writing on some of the objects in the garage, and it was all written in English. Some of the spelling seemed a little odd, and the letters somewhat stylized, but nothing dramatic.

  How is that possible? Jeff knew he wasn’t in an episode of Star Trek in which completely alien races just . . . somehow . . . speak English.

  This was a completely foreign world, and there was no logical way they should speak the same language as Jeff.

  There had to be some connection between this world and Jeff’s world, but how could that be possible? Jeff was anxious to find out as much as he could about where he was, but he was being patient.


  . . . Best to just play dumb until I knew a little more about where the heck I am.

  Chapter 15:

  “We’re home, dad!” Nahima announced as they entered the house.

  “Out in a minute. . . ” Jeff heard a man’s voice say from another room.

  Nahima gestured to a large, soft piece of furniture that had flowing curves. Jeff assumed it was a type of couch, and he sat. It was AMAZINGLY comfortable. Jeff felt like he was melting into it.

  When Jeff had gone to Italy several years ago, he remembered thinking: So this is how food is supposed to taste.

  Now, as he sat on this couch, he thought: So this is how furniture is supposed to feel.

  He made a point of keeping his eyes open, because he had a feeling that if he closed them, he’d be asleep and drooling shortly. He was physically . . . and mentally exhausted.

  Jeff looked around the room. The design of everything was foreign. Shapes and contours seemed different than what he knew. He noticed a number of pieces of art that had ‘oval’ themes. There were sculptures, paintings, sketches, and many of them seemed to feature ovals as central figures.

  There was an EXTREMELY loud belch from the other room and then the man’s voice: “Ha! How was that? I’d rate that a good 94 or 95, what do you think?”

  Baldwin and Nahima smirked at one another.

  “Dinner’s in about 15 minutes,” the voice continued, then the man put his head through the doors. He had a huge grin and was wearing an oversized, red hat.

  His grin dropped.

  His face began to turn the shade of his hat when he saw Jeff. “Oh, I didn’t know we had a guest.”

  The man quickly pulled the hat from his head and threw it back into the room he had come from . . . which Jeff guessed was the kitchen. He was an unremarkable man - medium height and on the heavy side of medium. He looked like he might have been reasonably athletic at some point in his life, but age had softened him.

  . . . Still . . . There was something powerful about him that belied his physical appearance. Something in his eyes that made Jeff feel there was an intensity just below the surface.

  The man wiped his hands on his apron and walked toward Jeff. “Artimus,” he said as he extended a hand. “We’d probably have to wait quite a while for my kids to introduce me. They apparently weren’t raised very well.” He winked.

  Jeff rose and reached for his hand. As they shook, he thought to himself: They shake hands just like we do. Their culture seems very similar to ours.

  “Jeff,” he introduced himself.

  “Jeff has sort of a problem we wanted to talk to you about,” Nahima said.

  “Oh,” Artimus’ eyebrows raised in an expression of curiosity. “How can I help?”

  Once again, similar to the feeling he had regarding Baldwin and Nahima, Jeff had a strong feeling that he could trust Artimus. Still . . . he thought it best to be cautious.

  “Well . . . uh . . .,” Jeff tried to think what he should say. “I seem to have some sort of amnesia. I can’t really remember anything about myself except my name. Everything else is just . . . blank.”

  Artimus’ face showed a sincere concern. “Nothing at all? Can you remember anything about your parents? Your neighborhood? A street or school?”

  Jeff paused to make it appear he was considering all these questions very carefully.

  “No . . . nothing . . . I can’t remember anything before fighting the hexaserpent and then getting picked up by Nahima and Baldwin.”

  Jeff saw Nahima and Baldwin cringe and realized he said something he shouldn’t have.

  Artimus turned his attention to them. “You went to the forest?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

  Nahima rolled her eyes but also seemed a little defensive. “We’re fine dad.” She put an unpleasant emphasis on “dad” that made Jeff uncomfortable. “We can take care of ourselves.”

  Artimus seemed a bit frustrated but measured. “I know you can take care of yourselves, but most people would be horrified to think I would let a 13 and 18 year old go to the forest alone . . . anymore, it seems like most people are horrified at the thought of a 30 year old going there.”

  Jeff was a little surprised to hear that Baldwin and Nahima were so young. They both looked a little older than that to him . . . but then he realized a “year” around here may not be the same as the year he knew. Maybe it was a little longer.

  . . . Or maybe they weren’t quite human and had slightly different aging.

  “Anyway, that’s not really important now.” Artimus turned his attention back to Jeff. “Jeff, can you think of anything at all that could help? Do you have any identification or anything else with you that might help us out?”

  Jeff made a display of patting his pockets and then slowly shook his head. He noticed Artimus looking at his jeans and shoes with some curiosity.

  “Those are really unusual pants and shoes,” he said. “You guys are more up on the fashions than I am,” he said to Nahima and Baldwin. “Any idea where someone might get clothes like that?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “Wait!” Baldwin said as he seemed to remember something, “He also had a really strange metal club.” He jumped up. “Did you leave it in the car?”

  Jeff nodded, and Baldwin ran off to the garage.

  Jeff squirmed a little uncomfortably. He really wasn’t ready for them to know the truth - that he was an alien from another dimension - but he was afraid he might have some trouble explaining these things. He took some comfort that he didn’t really have to explain anything. As long as they believed he had amnesia, he could always be an alien from another dimension with amnesia. And if they started to guess that he was an alien from another dimension . . .

  Well . . . who would be crazy then?

  All the while he had that voice in the back of his head: It’s okay . . . you can trust them. But he still thought it best to be cautious. After all, it may have been well and good to trust them . . . but there was nobody telling him he should trust the voice in his head . . . he considered that more harm than good typically came from people listening to the voices in their heads.

  Baldwin returned with the bat and showed it to Artimus.

  Artimus examined it carefully, looking down his nose and pursing his lips with an expression of concentration: “Louisville Slugger TPX.” He mispronounced “Louisville” badly.

  “Do you have any idea what this is?” he asked Jeff.

  Jeff shook his head slowly. “I don’t know . . . it seems sort of familiar . . . but I just don’t know.”

  “I’m sure your parents must be terribly worried,” Artimus said. “I mean you’re welcome to stay with us, that’s not a problem, but somewhere your parents are probably wondering where you are.”

  The four of them sat quietly for a few moments.

  “I guess I should call the police,” Artimus said after a while.

  Jeff cringed and Artimus seemed to recognize his apprehension.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Artimus said. “I won’t haul you down there, and leave you stuck there filling out paperwork all night, but I know a few people at headquarters. I can call, let them know you’re here, and find out if they’ve heard from your parents. If they have, great, if not maybe they will. Then your parents will at least know where to find you.

  “Tomorrow, when the city offices are open, I’ll run your retina through the identification system and that should tell us who you are.”

  “Good . . . that sounds great.” Jeff gave a relieved expression. It was mostly real - a reaction to not being hauled down to the police station - but he knew that they’d soon find he didn’t match anyone and he wasn’t sure what would happen then.

  But it seemed like he had at least bought himself some time. He doubted that anyone would have reported him missing at the police station.

  Right about this time, Jeff realized that there was something VERY important that he needed to address. With everything that was going on, he had n
early forgotten.

  “Ummm, may I use your bathroom?” he asked a bit sheepishly.

  Chapter 16:

  This might get interesting, Jeff thought as he looked around.

  Like much of what he had seen since they passed the barrier from the desert into this populated area, the bathroom looked familiar, yet the design was unique and incorporated flowing lines and curves that were much less harsh than those designs with which Jeff was familiar.

  The sink looked like something one might see in a magazine featuring exotic, modern design . . .

  . . . But the toilet . . .

  This might require some thought, Jeff mused.

  It was similar to the toilets he knew, but curved into a shape something like a saddle rather than the flat seats he was used to.

  The big problem at the moment was that the lid appeared to be part of it.

  He reached around the bowl, but couldn’t find any edge, and the lid seemed solidly fused to the bowl.

  He looked around and found three buttons on the wall. One had a symbol that looked like a little whirlpool - flush, he reasoned. Then there was one with a symbol that looked like a Pringles potato chip and another that looked like the same potato chip but with a large hole cut out of the center.

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  He assumed that the “potato chip” was the lid, and the chip with the hole was the seat.

  He pushed the chip, and the lid . . . disappeared. The lid didn’t seem to lift or slide, it just seemed to waver and disappear like it was some sort of energy field.

  . . . But it had felt perfectly solid when he had been feeling for an edge.

  Jeff pushed the button again, and the lid re-appeared. There was a visual distortion of the air around the lid when it re-appeared. It seemed that it was some sort of energy field, but once it was in place, it looked and felt like a solid piece of plastic.

  “Cool!” Jeff said out loud. As he pushed the button again and watched it disappear once more.

 

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