Journey, Calvin, and Šanti woke in a small tepid blackwater swamp, no complaints. The good news was that they were outside the psychedelic encasement traps. Ingrained disorientation within by now, all three lifted themselves up from the damp stickiness, tall, tangled grass and mud.
“Ugh, geezum crow,” Journey felt as disgusted as Calvin and Šanti. All three got busy wringing the dank water from their clothes.
“Still nothing behind us,” Calvin pointed out, emotionless.
“What is this?” Šanti wondered out loud.
Calvin observed, “Yes, that … it appears dry up ahead,” as they crossed over to a patch near the timberline.
“There is a break in the trees up there,” she said.
Although the hike was challenging, the arrival was rewarding. The thicket-laden pathway opened to the beauty of rolling hills. Tall, thick forests seemed to provide more cushion than enclosure. Over the dead and under the sky, Journey, Calvin, and Šanti felt pent-up energy. It channeled through their fascination. But there was one thing for sure. They were awash in relief now that the delusional trip they had been on ended. This was the first sane moment ever since going over the possessed precipice.
Confessional cries from the willowed farm corroborated the notion that power defies logic. The energy expounded. It is all the more evident by the experiential testament that all three hikers realized.
“This … is a special place,” Journey said. “Feel it?”
“Yes, I do,” Calvin agreed. “And everything coming through dictates to me that it is spiritual, too.”
“But where is all the color?” asked Šanti. “Things look bleak.”
“Except for the trees,” Journey twirled pointing out the surrounding forests.
Animal dreams introduced all three kids to the birds and squirrels they have often seen. Along with others sometimes camouflaged: deer, fox, and groundhogs. The vibrations served power in a way that told them it was easy to use.
Vadium stepped out of his signature nebulous snow squall onto the Common. He went to a spot between William and Beth and raised both smoking hands in front of him. Snapping his fingers created three sparkling six inch dancing spheres. He stood tall, looked out at his parishioners, and over to his left. Aiden turned into a box turtle as one of Vadium’s coruscant balls hit him.
“I have in mind the place for him in my office,” he said behind a tight-lipped grin.
“I can do without owls, any owl at all,” Vadium quipped as he tossed another two scintillant balls.
Looking satisfied at his two exquisite cigar shop totems, he said, “These two will stand nicely on either side of my front door landing.”
The children’s laughter and chitter-chatter was a symphony of sounds that delighted the elders. It paired good with the sight of Vadium’s humiliated Powers trio shuttling like three trackless cabooses in thin air.
Stunned, but not still, William, in all seriousness, blurted, “I guess I can put the Squeezepenny house up for sale.”
“There you go again with your impeccably timed humor,” Beth patted him on the shoulder.
“Now,” Vadium said. “What is the story with Blake over there?”
“Blake is, to some significant degree, a hero in this matter,” Beth admitted.
Vadium peered over at the young man and issued a gentle command, “Tell me why Beth would say that, Master Blake.”
The hikers grunted for air and rested at the plateau atop the third steep butte they had climbed. Three overdressed yogis in a world devoid of time turned. Dusk entered like a shade drawn to darken, but they were not sleepy. Only tired.
“Calvin,” Šanti whispered as she poked him in the side. “There is a creepy sound.”
It was almost impossible to hear, but he picked up on it.
“Journey, can you hear that?”
“Over there,” Journey pointed. “No…down there!”
“Oh, my crypts,” Šanti uttered. “Where are we?”
“Do you guys know the binocular hex?” Calvin asked.