Dwarg in the Seventh Dimension : The Aggie Kellor Experience

by Tony Lourensen

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – RITES OF PASSAGE

  Three Human years later

  “Honey, you don’t have to do this, it’s the modern era now – no one would expect you to follow traditions to the letter – it may well kill you.”

  “Aunt, it’s something I have to do – I need a complete change in direction. I want to move on with my life and I need a point, an event, from where I can turn. I’ve sent him on his way three years ago but still haven’t washed him outa my hair, so to speak. What better way than the ways of the past – I need to satisfy myself and be able to truly say mourning removed. Besides, I’m a teenage girl, I can feel changes.”

  “Aggie, I don’t think the old ways were necessarily the best ways – the ceremonies have become far more relaxed – at worst, you may have to dance for eight hours. To follow the exact rituals may well be beyond your physical strength – it may even been banned now.”

  “It’s been discouraged in the Northern Nations of New England, but I know of the Lakota who still recognise the cleansing and preparation of life and rebirth. You know I need to live without Dwarg’s influence. He’s left a legacy of knowledge and enlightenment, memories and insights, and I’m grateful for that and won’t reject any of it – but I want to know that Aggie, me, my ego, is totally and absolutely, me. If Dwarg, or his shadow, is still inside me, he would not let me suffer or even let me go and do this thing – that is the reassurance I need, and I have to go through with it.”

  “If you are so damned determined, at least let me go with you.”

  “You know it’s a private and personal transition aunt, but I wouldn’t mind if you came with me up to the departure point and be there when I finish the journey. We can get a flight to McIntosh, that’s close to the Standing Rock Reservation and I can leave you there. Elanor Dassiart from the Reservation will be my sponsor and I’ll give her my mobile phone so she can keep in touch with you.”

  -oOo-

  The hot dusty road to the place of contemplation was several miles long. Elanor had seen Aggie off. “You must follow this and other paths. You must keep walking until you know where you must be. The spirit of your ancestors and our mother will guide you – be awake to their guidance. You seek to be complete, only you can do it. You will dream, you will be given a sign of the earth, you will sacrifice, you will die and be reborn. Do not come back without the power for which you hunt and pursue. I am your mentor and will search for you if I feel you need to return.” Without a word, Aggie began to walk. She wore a rough hessian sack dress, no shoes, no hat and no backpack. On the horizon she saw mountains and felt she should be heading towards them.

  The Rights of Passage traditionally comprise four stages. Firstly, the suppliants must be of an orphaned status, that is, somehow incomplete and in need of help. Secondly, there must be a journey, they must sacrifice and suffer separation. Thirdly, they must acquire power and knowledge. Fourthly, they will have an affirmation – and the knowledge gained will fill any voids. There is no time scale for achieving this quest – it simply needs to be undertaken and accepted.

  Aggie walked the whole day along the winding, rough and corrugated road. She would clear her mind of all thoughts, often she would chant and hum and focus directly at what was in front of her. Occasionally she would stop to drink some water at one of many little streams crossing the road. She saw that her feet were cut and a little trickle of blood ran from under her ankle where she had scrapped it on a sharp rock a mile back. She jumped up with fright when a large moose ran across her path – she had just walked around a bend in the road and she and the animal saw each other at the same time. With her heart beating loudly, she kept walking until late afternoon - she was sore and tired. She decided to leave the road and headed for a small hill which seemed to have bushy undergrowth. She thought this would be an ideal place to prepare for spending the night. A soft patch of fern would be her bed. A hardy stick with its small branches removed would be her weapon and luckily she spotted a wild blueberry tree and the berries eased her hunger pains and the water from a little pond nearby quenched her thirst. She washed her sore and bruised feet, then finally lay down and listened to the sounds of mother earth and her creatures, before falling into a long and deep sleep.

  The chirps, whistles and buzzing of insects and birds in the morning were loud and Aggie woke up and stretched. She was sore and bruised, and lonely. Blueberries for breakfast, her stick for support, she continued her journey towards the mountains, not nearly as briskly as the day before, more of an amble. For no apparent reason she looked up and saw that she had reached an area where the land sloped upward, steep in some areas and with gentle rises to her left. She stood for a moment trying to feel which way was to be her path; nothing came to mind so she just lowered her head and kept walking straight ahead.

  The scrub was thick, but she managed to zigzag her progress to avoid being cut by the sharp bushes which seemed to sway towards her, almost as if trying to deliberately touch and hurt her. Near a patch of greenery, she managed to collect handfuls of fern fronds and greedily gulped them down; she was very hungry and hadn’t found any water for a few hours. She wondered if she would have enough strength to walk back to the reservation, this would be somewhere near the point of no return and she had to look inward to decide what to do next. Before attempting this ordeal, she had fantasies of the birds and animals lining up and directing her – the trees would point the way and provide all the nourishment she needed. She waited for an animal spirit to come into her dreams and teach her the ways of mother earth – nothing of the sort was happening– it’s just pain, hunger and weakness so far.

  Directly in front of her was a small hill and she could see some boulders on top – looks like a good spot – that’s where she would go.

  She climbed and crawled to the top, disturbing a green snake, then a Merriam turkey and a couple of little critters with many legs, in the process. She looked around; the view was not all that spectacular as she sat on a large rock. Glad there’s no mirror around, I must look a mess, my feet – look at all the blood and scratches, oh and there’s a long scratch down my arm as well. She strolled among the rocks hoping to find a little pool of water somewhere, her mouth was dry and the fern fronds were beginning to make her dry retch. She placed some small pebbles in her mouth to keep some moisture on her tongue and decided to retrace her steps back, she desperately needed to drink and the last water was at least four hours away.

  Halfway down the hill she trod on a loose and slippery stone and lost her footing. Her legs could only move so fast and the momentum caused her to fall heavily on her side. At first, she thought she had broken her leg because she heard a loud snap as she landed, but she could move her toes and bend her knees. She got onto all fours and using a small sapling – the one that stopped her from careering all the way down the hill – managed to pull herself up. Trying to step, she knew she had a twisted or broken ankle and the pain was unbearable. This was the first time that Aggie had experienced serious physical pain and she laid down and gasped and moaned. She came to realize that she was very much in a bad situation – no one to help, no one knew where she was and she was hopelessly disabled – none of this will come to any good –“I’ve still so much to do in life and I’m going to let everybody down.” She sobbed for a while, then decided to crawl as far as she could, as far as her strength would allow, crawl to a spot where she may be found, get into the open at least. It took hours of screams and pain, but with determination she managed to crawl to a patch of green. She gathered white coloured rocks lying around within her reach and tried to place them in a circle around her – maybe a plane or helicopter might spot her.

  She lay down and tried to tap into her father’s memories and messages – Dwarg had once told her that there was a “library” of his life within her - she only needed to ask. Glimpses of early life did come back to her. She remembered the horror of being sent to childcare, her mother couldn’t wait to bundle her off. She would spend the day lookin
g out the barred window, hoping that daddy would pick her up and take her away from that prison. Daddy was very busy in space and being popular most of the time. He had terrible fights with Mom and always apologized to Aggie later – he said that Mommy was a little sick which made her angry a lot of the time. After the car accident, Daddy found out just how miserable life was for little Aggie. He stopped all of his work and devoted his life to bringing up his precious daughter, but it was all too late – fate had already stepped in and Aggie was stricken with an aggressive and deadly cancer.

  She was laying there in the late afternoon sun, she could feel Daddy’s love – that was enough for her, it didn’t matter that he was a national hero or a space pioneer or held the 400 metre hurdles record at his college. The essence of his love calmed her and she relaxed. If I was to die here, at least I’ll die in the arms of mother earth and my daddy loves me. She slipped into unconsciousness.

  She moaned and painfully opened her eyes. It was evening and the moon was already bright.

  The sounds of the forest were calming and a light wind rustled the leaves on the trees – these are the sounds of our mother earth. She tried to think of the poem she offered at her grandmother’s funeral

  I am a thousand winds that blow

  I am the diamonds glint on snow

  I am the sunlight on ripened grain

  I am the gentle autumn rain

  She tried to think where and how this verse had originated. Her quick search on the internet showed that various authors were attributed with those words as recently as a few years ago. There was only a short reference that the poem may have been passed down through generations of the Navajo Nation. Certainly there is no copyright, how could there be? The Nations had no need of “owning” an ancestral medicine poem, the origin of which, is lost in time.

  Thankfully, she fell asleep.

  She dreamed that daddy was with her. He didn’t want her to join him just yet - “Aggie you have a purpose in life, you are destined to do great things for our planet – you must live – you are our destiny.” She felt his caress on her cheek, even the warm breath on her face and she opened her eyes then screamed. The curious coyote jumped in fright and ran away through the bushes. Her heart pounded from the scare and she weakly yelled out “CAN’T YOU AT LEAST WAIT TILL I’M DEAD, YOU GODDAMN VULTURE!” She felt a little guilty using the language that belonged to Aunt Edna. “Well at least I may be of some use to Mother Nature – her creatures need to be fed. Ha, I was so good at explaining the distribution of atoms after someone’s death, to Megan.”

  She grimaced as she laughed out. Still, it was true – it was a pure scientific fact that atoms never die. Even the ancestors knew it and put it poetically:

  When you awaken in mornings hush

  I am the swift uplifting rush

  Of quiet birds in circle flight

  I am the soft stars that shine at night

  Do not stand at my grave and cry

  I am not there, I did not die

  Just before she dozed off again, she planned – if she should survive the night; to crawl as far as she could with her remaining strength first thing in the morning. What she needed now was a good deep sleep to gather all her resolve – she would postpone her death chant until all hope was lost.

  Something disturbed her sleep again – it made her angry. Oh no, not again she thought - if it’s not the coyote, it’s some noisy insect buzzing around my ears. “Piss off bug! –let me die in peace – hum somewhere else!” So noisy, getting louder, closer, – “I’ll swat you and you’ll die along side of me!” Still that annoying noise – “Will you just buzz off and leave me alone you damn demonic insect.” It had taken Aggie all her remaining strength to spit out those words with venom. Miraculously, the loud high pitched whine stopped.

  “Well excuse me, o maiden of the Abenaki – a simple ‘I’m not interested’ would have done.”

  Aggie managed to open her eyes. Silhouetted in front of the full moon, she made out a figure. He was getting off a trial bike. “What! – I’m sorry, please help me, help me, I’m hurt, my ankle, thirsty.”

  “Zero Foxtrot, this is Jay Elk, I’ve found her. She’s had a fall and looks like she’s twisted her ankle, she’s dehydrated and weak, a few cuts and bruises, but she’s OK. Send the van to Lope Hill on the Southern side, there’s a small track to the base – I’ll keep the torch on.”

  “Whoa, not too fast, have little sips, swirl it around your mouth – there’s plenty of water here – quite a situation you’ve gotten yourself into – you city squaws just go off into the wilderness and leave everything to chance. The sooner the elders stop these old rituals, the better.”

  Aggie gasped, “Did you call me a squaw?”

  “Now don’t get your dander up lady, I didn’t use the word as derogatory – I know a lot of people think it is, but it’s an aboriginal word that others have misused. If we erase it from our language, as those misguided politically correct assholes want to do, we will eventually lose all our language. I am one that agrees with the teachings of your own Marg Bruchac, who says that we must reclaim these words. My wife insists that she is my squaw. Anyway, if it upset you, I apologize.”

  “Please don’t apologize, it’s just that I’ve never been called a squaw – and I will take it as a compliment.”

  “Good – and of course that’s what you are now. No more miss, girl, young lady, lassie. In the eyes of the Lakota, you are a woman – you have followed the path and passage – you have earned the right. Did you dream of an animal spirit?”

  “I remember a coyote sniffing and licking my face, but I scared him off – I was dreaming of my father who was talking to me – he said it wasn’t my time to die, and I guess he was right – I still miss him so …hmm this chocolate reminds me of Switzerland. You saved my life Jay Elk – thank you.”

  “Elanor should be here in an hour or so. Let me just wipe over some of these scratches. I’ve some medicated swabs in this first aid kit – not too bad, maybe a couple of butterfly clips for these deeper scratches. Your skin looks like you wrestled with Barberry bushes and your knees are badly bruised. I’ve got some pain killers if you like, or I have a bottle of special medicine from our doc, guaranteed to get your mind off the pain – I won’t tell your sponsor.”

  “Thanks, no, I’ll wait for Elanor. I really thought I was going to die Jay Elk. I feel so stupid for doing this, and to be honest, I don’t feel anything different in my life – I hope I haven’t wasted my, and everybody’s time.”

  “Maybe, maybe not – I’ll start a fire. I know you were named Aggie when you left the camp. You are now reborn and may be called by another name. Elanor will teach you more of this. I am a mere male and know not of the women’s business of these matters. I will report of your spirit and strength - which has my approval.”

  Aggie winced every time she moved her leg but rather than scream with pain, she determined to laugh out loud instead – and it helped. The fire that Jay Elk made, now crackled and lit up the small clearing. Aggie could see his face - he was quite elderly, not as Aggie assumed. He had weathered skin, jet black hair in a pony tail with a multi-colored head-band studded with small silver discs. He wore a lumberjack checked shirt with an armless fawn colored jacket with thin leather fringes on the back. The belt around his jeans had a large oblong buckle inlaid with blue, probably turquoise stones. She could just make out the words on the buckle - Vietnam Veteran.

  “I can see the lights of the vehicle down there – should be here in a few minutes and…” he was interrupted by the loud wailing of a coyote not far away. They both listened to the high pitched whine, which was repeated about five times. Jay Elk whispered, “I have listened to the songs of the coyote for many years. I know the different calls and I know of this song. Do you fear this animal?”

  “Not at all. I have two malamutes who call me. This coyote wanted to know me. I guess he knows I will be leaving and he will be alone. Perhaps he is
saying goodbye, perhaps he is sad, perhaps he just wants me to know that he exists.”

  “He has done just that - you now have him in your memory.”

  “And his song?”

  “It is a song of loneliness. He has lost his mate and calls for her spirit. He will do so for some time, and then sing a different song – a song of lament and mourning.”

  “For how long?”

  “Some will sing their songs until they die. Others may find another mate or some event may change their future – their destiny lies with the will of our mother.”

  Jay Elk looked directly into Aggie’s sad and teary eyes. She wondered if he knew of her own loss. “So is the coyote to be my animal spirit Jay Elk?”

  “That I cannot answer, squaw of the Abenaki - it is secret women’s business. As to your destiny, that is of your choosing alone.”

  EPILOGUE

  Four Human years later

  It was yet another Christmas. They had been experiencing a particular heavy snowfall on Christmas Eve but none fell on Christmas Day. A bright sun reflected off the glistening fields and forests of snow around Putney.

  Seven years had passed since the separation, but Aggie, despite her immersion in her work, and her rebirth, still felt an emptiness; just as much as the losses of her father, mother and her grandparents. An invisible attraction connected her to all of them and to a lesser extent, her ancestors. Like Aunt Edna, she had an awareness of her need to acknowledge them often, and the necessity of upholding the traditions of their (and her) culture. It was right that Christmas time was a time of reflection.

  For the last few Christmases, Edna and Aggie had various family and friends stay in the guest house which they had built next door. It was a beautiful and modern house with all the latest mods and cons. Given the fact that Aggie was immensely wealthy now and could afford to buy mansions if she wished, she and Edna had absolutely no desire to leave the family home - they felt happy and comfortable there. Of necessity, she did have some renovations and additions made to the house, including a large office and a well equipped laboratory. She was particularly proud of the large and elaborate diploma from the University of Oklahoma which hung over her bed.

  Last year Jade and his finance Phoebe stayed for a few days en route to the big powwow of Northern Nations in Canada.

  The Christmas before that, Professor Lorenz and his wife Angela spent a little more time than planned. It was a winter of record snows. Aggie was pleased to see that the Professor had turned his efforts towards the development of fuel cells, which she hoped, would eventually end the need for fossil fuels. As a parting Christmas gift, she gave him a schematic and detail of her design for a small super capacitor which would revolutionize the way that electrons could be stored.

  She herself, had a personal commitment to improving the standard and the use of global energy and was heavily involved with the propagation of geothermal generation. Here was a natural force, offered up by the planet, for man to harvest. It was a free form of energy – clean, powerful, in abundance and actually beneficial to Mother Earth. These installations were already generating vast amounts of electrical power in various places around the world and Aggie saw the many advantages of adopting this form of energy over anything else including tidal, solar, lunar, wind, gavatation and electrolytic generation. She thought the current trend of using algae as an energy source, was exceptionally dangerous and argued against research into this application.

  As to atomic energy, it was certainly plausible – but a great deal of further research and development was needed. The current generators using atomic power were extremely dangerous and always subject to accidents. Their processes were foolhardy and the failsafe assurances far from being acceptable. Recent earthquakes in Asia and the catastrophes following them proved that radiation and fallout could never be contained safely.

  Geothermal generators just made so much sense. Drilling deep holes into the Earth, anywhere on Earth, released super heat and this product would power turbines. Unlike fossil fuels, this heat would never run out and in fact, would go a long way in settling the pressures and faults which bring on devastating eruptions, earthquakes, Tsunamis and earth slides. She once tried to explain the principle to Edna who commented, “Ah I get you Aggie, the Earth needs to fart.”

  “That is so accurate aunt - I may just use that at my next talk to the “Friends of the Earth” symposium in Brisbane – I know those Aussies like straight talk.”

  Thus far, Rienus Lien had been at the forefront of drilling deep holes into the earth using electron pulsing. It was by far, the cheapest and cleanest form of boring channels to reach those hot energy sources. Aggie had virtually given him total operational control over the many sites she owned around the globe – he himself, was wealthy beyond his expectations, yet he never seemed to want to stop and enjoy the lifestyle of the rich and famous. At each successive drilling site, he would make tweaks and improvements, and to him, he was indeed doing something good for mankind. He fondly remembered the day when he rode his Harley Customised Trike onto the campus of the UO, right up to the President’s Office. He opened the door without knocking, took off his black helmet and bandana, then said “President Janette Conaghan, get off your butt, we’re going for a little ride into the countryside – here’s your crash helmet, let’s go...now” – and they did!

  He didn’t mind at all that he was in the employ of Kellor Resources and didn’t even complain when Aggie asked him to set up a new installation in Reggane, Algeria. “A river of clean by-product water, flowing through the sands of the Sahara, should go a long way in promoting agriculture in that area, and the energy generated from the plant should allow more industry to develop. We won’t be making much money on this project, but I think it’s right, and a good thing to do. It won’t be our last enterprise into a desert.” Nobody ever objected to some of Aggie’s wild and interesting ideas.

  Energy needs for the planet were not the only things on Aggie’s agenda. She was working on her proposal for the seemingly impossible - the actual creation of a virus. It was an enormous undertaking and would probably take the rest of her life to see its outcome. Instead of a virus which could strike and devastate mankind, why could she not create a virus that does the complete opposite? – a virus that heals, cures any disease, defect or ailment within the Human cells – perhaps repair damaged areas, restore lost sight or maladies and subject a person to a holistic healthy life. Perhaps this virus could eventually be released into Earth’s outer atmosphere so as to provide a constant and protective barrier from foreign invaders, intent on harming the planet.

  “It’s going to be a nice shindig this afternoon honey. I think Lisa and Scott have started the fire for the spit – I can already smell the burning logs. It’s certainly convenient that Derek will just happen to come up with some fresh confiscated road kill, seems to always happen when an event comes around.”

  “Do you think many people will turn up, aunt?”

  “Well, a free feed on the Turner Trail is always popular; a little thing like a few feet of snow won’t stop them. I know Ed will come, Deslie, Doctor Doug and Carolyn Rixon, Bucky, Miss Michelle and old Principal Garner will probably make it, don’t know about Tony Lee, last I heard he was on a fishing trip to Lake Tahoe.”

  “Speaking of lakes, Aunt, I was on V-phone with Megan and her kids early this morning. There’re growing so quickly. Stephano pleaded that we both come over in April to Lake Lucerne. Their new house is finished and he went to great pains to show me in 3D, the rooms we can stay in. Their lounge is huge with views of the lake and Megan’s piano has finally found its place.

  Stephano begrudgingly allowed her to hang, what he calls, “that crazy Dutchman’s picture” over the matrimonial bed – only because it made her feel romantic when she looked at it. Oh, and Stephano’s dad got on so well with Ed last time and wouldn’t mind doing a little more fishing together. At the moment though, most of Switzerland is under snow, much like us. You
ng Agatha and Hayden are making the best of it with their new skis. You know, I’m so glad Megan is having a good life.”

  I really love Christmas time Aggie, it’s good for the soul to be amongst family and friends – and a good time to remember absent friends... Aggie...Aggie?”

  Aggie was lost in thought; she was looking at the Christmas tree and again felt the tug of invisible threads. “I wonder what Dwarg is doing now”, she whispered.

  Scott had erected a large canopy between his house and the semi. He’d spent all morning shovelling snow and preparing the pit; he then placed his homemade rotisserie over it and hoped it would support the deer’s carcase. Derek couldn’t tell him the weight of it yet, as he was still out in the mountains with his rifle, looking for a suitable road-kill.

  Christmas Day at the Kennedy Space Centre also saw the return of the Space Shuttle. It was returning some of the crew from the orbiting International Space Station. Edna turned on the television for the latest news of the world and waited for the feature that promised an interview with the returning astronauts – a welcome home of sorts. It was no secret now that the trips into space were being scaled down due to financial restrictions, indeed this may well be the last of the space shuttles used by NASA. Edna often wondered if there was some of Dwarg’s involvement in this.

  Of the four, only one, Alex Bentley, had trouble talking to the press. Of questions put to him, he only seemed to be able to answer with the word, agree.

  He had a puzzled look on his face at not being able to pronounce his words properly; everything that he tried to say was turned into the word, agree.

  “Come and have a look at this Aggie – looks like space travel has made him coy with the Press – he’s a bit of a hunk though.”

  Aggie looked – “Wow, not a bad looker – now there’s someone I’d like to know better, wonder if he’s married and if, and if......wait..wait...Aunt! Aunt! – great and holy spirits! Dwarg has come back! – he’s inside that guy – he’s sending out a message for me – he’s back! - heee’s baaack!”

  “Can we wait till tomorrow Aggie? It’s a bit risky driving to the airport now.”

  “No need - if I’m right, Dwarg will find his way here – anyway Mister Alex Bentley will be in quarantine for a while yet. Yes he’ll find his way to me and when he does, I’m going to give him a welcome home he won’t ever forget!”

  “Well I do know he’s a bachelor and he’s probably got a long list of girlfriends...”

  “Aw Aunt Edna, I was really talking about Dwarg – but now that you mention it.... girlfriends? - maybe, but with Dwarg at the helm, I’m sure they’ll fall by the wayside.” Aggie made little jumps around the coffee table, much like a make-believe jingle dress dance.

  “Seriously though Aggie, if you are right, how will this work out? Will you have Dwarg remain with our flyboy or will Dwargles go back into your head?”

  Aggie was beaming. “What a dilemma Aunt, now let me think...hmm...a beautiful and perfect man, over whom I would have total control, or a confused person who.....oh hell, let’s just wait and see how it goes.”

  Edna smiled inwardly and thought about the name given to Aggie by the Lakota. “Mourning she-Coyote” - ha, just look at her now.

  The Christmas feast and cook-out at Lisa’s place was fabulous. The sun was bright, the air was crisp and the sounds of falling snow from leaves and branches disturbed by fluttering birds, was pleasant to the ear. The smoke and the rich aroma of the barbeque wafted along the Turner Trail.

  Lisa’s eggnog was a little more potent this year, Scott cooked the venison to perfection and the circle of friends was happy and content. Bucky asked if he might say grace, Edna didn’t mind. Giving thanks seemed to be very appropriate and there was a lot to be grateful for.

  Old Alan Garner, who had lost his grandson in an explosion in Afghanistan, then stood up to have his little say. “People, would you believe that someone in our district has put up a sign in front of his shop? – it reads – “We would rather serve 1000 terrorists, than 1 American soldier.” His audience was stunned. “Yes it’s our own Mister Jeroen, and he’s placed it in front of his funeral parlour.” They all laughed, and laughed more when Ed squirted some canned cream down on the old headmaster’s back.

  Later, Edna was deep in thought as she watched small William bounce up and down on his new trampoline – a gift from herself and Aggie. She thought of Megan and of children and of Aggie. Could it ever happen that Aggie may end up having a child with Alex Bentley? Would it really be his or Dwarg’s? What would the kid look like? All at once, she had a vision of SpongeBob SquarePants bouncing up and down next to William. She blinked hard a few times to get her thoughts back to normality.

  “More eggnog, Edna?”

  “I shouldn’t really.” she replied, holding up her large cup for some more.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born in the Netherlands, Tony Lourensen, with his parents, migrated to Australia in 1952 at age six. He had a Catholic upbringing, being educated by both nuns and brothers. He was happy to get away from his schooling and as soon as he was of eligible age, he enlisted in the Australian Army. He saw active and special service in Vietnam and Singapore and spent 13 years in the military. After his discharge he found employment in a number of occupations including a post of Occupational Health and Safety Co-ordinator in a large service industry. He retired in 2000 due to ill health.

  He has travelled extensively throughout Europe, Asia and the USA. It was in Putney, Vermont where he gained the inspiration for this book and keeps fond memories of the people, the mountains, the colour and the seasons.

  ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR:

  Ho Chi Minh, Johnsy and I : Ramblings from a Baggy Arse Army Clerk during those Hazy, Crazy Days of the Vietnam War.

  ISBN-978-0-646-52323-1.....Published by Tony Lourensen. www.tonylourensen.com