Jed Receives a Signal
Jed was soaked to his ankles. His soggy boots squelched as he hurried toward the woods—the sun was retiring for the day, blending into a blur of pinks and dark oranges. Reluctantly, Jed stood at the edge of the woods, shouting into the darkening forest.
“Lon! Lon!” Silence.
Assuming Lon wouldn’t have ventured too deep to keep an eye on him, Jed marched in just a few feet. “It ain’t funny no more! If you’re hiding somewhere in here, you better come out and show yourself, ya scamp!”
He spun around, scanning the trees as if Lon might leap out from behind one.
Again, there was silence. In the dimming light, he noticed shimmers of glass on the ground, sparkling like stars. He bent down, examining their gleam.
“Must’ve fallen out of Lon’s pocket… looks like he was here,” he thought, recalling how Lon had collected them.“
Maybe I’ll just head back to camp, and he’ll find me there.” He glanced back nervously through the trees.Jed left the woods, passing the stream again, marching toward their campsite.
The sun had dipped lower, enough for the first flecks of stars to peek through the twilight.
Once he reached the campsite, he found Fernie grazing without a care in the world—except for how much more grass he could gnaw on with his next bite. A twinge of envy rushed through Jed. “Hey, Fernie…” he said, patting the mule’s forehead as its ears twitched.
“I wish you could tell me where Lon is—he shares more with you these days than he does with me.”
Jed flapped open the tent’s entrance and changed his clothes, plopping onto his sleeping bag.
“I’m hungry…” he thought, hearing his stomach growl.Jed had to respond to such a demand; he could never resist a meal, even during the worst of times.
So, he went outside again to reheat the fish from yesterday, his stomach bellowing a chorus of growls.
However, he ate with far less appetite than before, as everything seemed to lack flavor, no matter how much salt he sprinkled on it.
Lon couldn’t have been true to his word, could he? Lon had never left him since they were kids. His buddy had always been his trusted hero, the one he was sure had his back every time.
As Jed nibbled his last bites, he planned to go to sleep, convinced that by morning, Lon T. Ranger would return—even if it meant enduring the “meanest game” Lon ever played.
After supper, Jed wrapped himself in his sleeping bag like a caterpillar, eyes wide open, listening to an owl hooting somewhere in the distance throughout the night.
When dawn came, there were no signs of Lon’s arrival—which was so “unlike the varmint.” Jed went about his day, thinking, “Maybe that loon will be back later tonight… or at worst, tomorrow.” He went to the bank to catch more fish, and failed—then tried his luck at prospecting—but his attempts at panning for gold were just as unsuccessful.
He ventured deeper into the woods, tripping a few times, but it didn’t dishearten him from heading into town afterward—hoping to catch sight of Lon. Each activity was done in a state of drowsiness. “I’ll show him once he comes back…” he kept thinking as his eyes drooped, all while possessing a surprising stamina he seldom showed to stay awake. Then that one long day bore into the next—which he spent shooting into the air, wasting bullets, and getting drunk on gin.
On the dawn of the third day, he awoke with his eyes flashing wide open—his worry erupting into fury, bursting into what he surmised as realization and certainty. “It’s all because of him…” he exclaimed, shaking his fist in the air as he got up from his sleeping sack. “It’s all because of that dang midget! He ruined everything! Lon must’ve run off to a circus—that’s what it is… he ran after that midget! I gotta find him… but where do I find a circus?” he thought, in a frenzy.
“I’ll show ’em both! Where could a traveling circus be?” He stormed off into town, determined to inquire from anyone he thought might know. As he ran as fast as he could, a secret thrill surged within him—maybe, just maybe—he’d be a hero for once, in case his buddy needed rescuing from “the lil’ scamp” who’d conned Ranger into a scam.
“Lon… I’m coming…!”
A Luck of the Draw?
Although Jed had set off early in the morning, he arrived at his destination by mid-afternoon, thwarted by a series of wrong turns.
“Afternoon, Judea,” Jed said, stepping into the tavern named “The Ol’ Timber Lodge.” He suspected this spot was his best bet for finding connections to the circus, as it served as a junction for all sorts of people crossing from one gold rush town to another across Northern California.
“Well, looky here… someone’s back. Where’s your famous friend?” Judea, the tavern’s owner, asked from behind the counter. With a gruff countenance and a long mustache, he reclined in his chair, one foot tossed over the other, reading a newspaper.
“Beats me…” Jed replied, embarrassed for not knowing. “I gotta go lookin’ for him—that’s why I came by to ask. S’posin’ I gotta get to a circus… how can I find one?”
“What in the sam hill do ya need a circus for?”
“Ya know Lon,” Jed sighed, “he always tells tall tales and entertains folks. I don’t like all that funny bizness—and s’pose he could’ve gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd. We’d been at a fair in Shasta, where he took a likin’ to a midget. I’m afraid Lon could’ve gotten tricked by him.”
Jed decided to leave out the other details, like how Lon would run off into the woods claiming he heard the sounds of a crow. He was relieved when Judea spoke, as if reading his mind.
“Them crazy vagrants travel all over the country… you won’t be able to find ‘em,” Judea said, puffing on his pipe while shaking out the newspaper to turn the page. “But how desperate are ya? You might have to travel the entire country again to find him.”
“Well—” Jed paused, recalling the challenge of his journey to California. He’d already trekked a long distance, from one part of the country to another.
“It’ll cost ya… but I can arrange somethin’,” Judea continued. “Or you can keep lodgin’ here… did ya find any gold?” Judea looked into Jed’s eyes from the corner of his own, like a hawk, pretending to focus on reading the paper.
As if Jed would tell him! His mind was racing with thoughts.
This was the worst gamble of Jed’s life. He had come out here, risking everything to find gold, but he never believed he’d lose everything he had! Anger surged through him; he shook, transforming into a red beet. It was all a nightmare.
He thought of his beloved Lorraine and how he would find his way back to her. If he tried to return on his own, Jed could easily get killed with all the dangers lurking throughout the country—and staying out here without a guide was just as risky. He was already running short on cash and needed to strike gold soon to avoid starving or running out of supplies.
He was furious with Lon for backing out on his word to help find gold—and now he felt deeply betrayed. His anger kept rising, and he was resisting the urge to start shooting the tavern’s ceiling.
On second thought, he reflected on the very question that drove him to the lodge—Could the invincible Lon T. Ranger have gotten himself in trouble for once? Jed could have expected betrayal from anyone else, but not Lon. Then again, Lon T. Ranger did back out on his word to help find gold, so could he have changed? Did he even know Lon anymore?
“I can get someone to take ya… but it’ll cost ya…” Judea continued, as if he sensed a vulnerable opening in Jed’s resolve.
“No thanks…” Jed wanted to shout. He was sure he’d been brazenly cheated at the last poker game during those nights they had stayed at the tavern. Judea was too well connected in this town for Jed to raise a fuss and put himself and Lon in danger if raised his indignation about a past game. One silly poker game could be a matter of life or death.
Lon had warned him that night before not to play—“They’re gonna rob ya high and dry, and you’ll lose. I won’t be able to help ya as these scoundrels are some of the most dishonest and hot-headed folk. If ya do, you’re gonna make your bed and have to sleep in it too. Be wise…”
Thoughts rushed through his mind. “Well, I’ll think about it…” Jed said, nodding, it was the same thing he’d told Lon that night before he succumbed to temptation and got himself robbed. “Lon might need me…” he thought, “and I sure do need him even more.”
Jed was now looking at his feet and reluctantly muttered, “Okay, fine…” out loud once more to Judea’s offer—as he had done that night he’d been cheated, though with far less enthusiasm and with a great surge of shame for being so vulnerable. Judea’s eyes glimmered with greed.
Jed wanted to swallow his words right then and there, as if striking any sort of business deal with Judea felt akin to striking a pact with the devil.
Just then, a chime rang from the door, as if Jed’s wish to be saved was granted from the heavens.
“What in the…” Judea said, looking at who was entering. “Say no more…” he grunted. “Ya might’ve found yourself some freaks you were lookin’ for… hmph, foreigners… a whole lotta them keep comin through’.”
That comment struck Jed as odd. Part of him felt like being in California was still part Spanish country, even if all of that was changing fast. In fact, it felt like it rightfully “belonged to the Injuns”—or in other words, the indigenous. For a moment, he kind of understood what Lon had been saying about the treatment of indigenous people. In fact, he always did, but had kept quiet to avoid causing a stir.
A woman with dark curly hair and hoop earrings entered the lodge. The bells from her anklets jingled as she approached the desk, her long purple skirt flouncing around her.
She was of mid-height and mid-age, yet appeared taller, commanding the space as if she were on stage. She donned a laced white shirt and a dark blue bandana with night stars wrapped around her head.
A pair of mimes, with painted white faces and brightly colored pantaloons, followed her. One was wispy, and the other was short and stodgy. They crossed their arms like bodyguards, wearing exaggerated expressions of smugness that were both unconvincing and funny.
Jed had always been afraid of mimes, clowns, and any sort of performer engaged in “funny bizness,” so he avoided making eye contact with them. But for the first time, he felt excited at seeing these “freaks,” wondering if he truly was being looked after by God, shocked at his luck and chances that they might help him find Lon.
“We were looking for two rooms…” the woman raised two fingers as she spoke. Her voice boomed, and her r’s rolled. Her loud voice was not a sign of aggression, as it was countered by her kind face and subtle smile. Her hazel eyes seemed to dance, even if they were perfectly contained within their sockets. She had a warm honey-tan complexion and spoke with a distinctive accent Jed had never heard before.
“We don’t got any rooms available…” Judea said coldly. “Especially for gypsies…” His eyes scanned, searching for a pouch of coins hidden somewhere, then moved from the woman’s head to toe, icy in his appraisal.
The woman straightened her posture, hands on her hips. Her hazel eyes turned hawk-like and stern. “It’s not like we prefer zis place… it’s too dull…” she said, briefly pausing mid-speech. “And dark…” She froze when saying the word “dark,” peering straight into Judea’s eyes without blinking, indignation burning within them. “But we felt a calling to bring some light—so we’re offering to provide our songs in exchange for two rooms for just one night…” She tapped her tambourine gently, and the bells jingled along with those on her anklets, bringing a tinge of playfulness, though it was countered by great tension from Judea—a battle between a candle’s flame and an icy glacier.
“You don’t got any money and sayin’ you want to stay a night? You’ll ruin the whole damn place by mornin’ with all your gypsy brawls and foolery. Get out!”
Jed found Judea’s words ironic. “Ruin the tavern with their brawls? This is a tavern with the rowdiest drunk men known to mankind!” The last fight he remembered involved one man slamming another against the wall while a mob joined in, ignoring the flames bursting from the ceiling light, with its candles toppling onto a table. The “saner” patrons decided to help by dousing the fire with beer.
If Lon had been there, he could always diffuse a situation with his smooth talk. But if Lon were there, Jed wouldn’t have any business coming back to the Satan of Mount Shasta.
A sense of pity washed over Jed. “They might look like freaks, but they don’t deserve to be treated this way… no one does.” He mustered some courage to speak.
“Now come on, Judea, be nice…”
“You stick your nose out of this—out! I said out!” Judea shouted, pointing at the two mimes and the woman.
The two mimes raised their hands, throwing dramatic punches and kicks in the air as Judea cursed at them, on the verge of actually punching them, though it seemed he was first looking for something behind his desk.
“If you don’t mind me asking—why’d ya come here? This ain’t no place for a lady, and I think a fight might break out now,” Jed said nervously, whispering to the group.
“Well, our wheel broke down, and the blacksmith said he wouldn’t be available till next week,” the woman said indignantly, pivoting on her heels. “Looks like we’ll go somewhere else with more character…hmph” She flounced her skirt and headed toward the door.
Before Judea could get out from behind the counter—he looked like he had already grabbed a rifle.. “So, that’s what he was looking for”—the mimes turned to follow the woman, with the wispy one shaking his finger in the air, which turned into a lewd gesture, while the shorter one feigned spitting as they walked out the door.
Jed ran after them, “I’ll try to help ya find a wheel… if I can be of any help…”
“Gonna have her play that tambourine and be her dancin’ bear, huh, Jed, was that even your name? Plannin’ on joinin’ their troop as their gypsy king?” Judea shouted behind them, sneering. Jed was relieved Judea didn’t follow but noticed Judea standing close to the door with his rifle beside him.. He hoped Judea was bluffing—but couldn’t be too sure.
“What are you sayin’, Judea…”
“You ain’t no different from your friend… you’re a fool, and you’ll regret it when they rob ya dry…”
“Better be robbed by them than by you…” Jed shouted, temper and a tad of courage swelling in his chest. “I’m still bitter about that poker game, ya thief!” He caught himself from saying more and ducked quickly out the door..
Once he made it outside, Jed was relieved but turned around one more time to make sure Judea hadn’t followed him outside.
The brightness of daylight stood in stark contrast to the darkness of the tavern, the mid-afternoon sun beaming down in a welcoming glow. The mimes and the woman had already advanced several steps, walking briskly ahead.
“Hey… wait… hold up!” Jed shouted, running behind them, his stout legs straining to carry as much of his weight as they could.
By the time he reached them, he was out of breath, panting heavily.
The woman and the mimes turned around, their expressions unreadable.
“Look… I’m awfully sorry about what Judea said…” Jed began, but before he could finish his sentence—
Without breaking eye contact, the woman swiftly pulled a badge from the lanyard around her neck, its polished surface reflecting the sunlight in a brilliant flash.
“Inter-Routes Agent,” she declared, her tone unwavering and authoritative.
In an instant, the badge glimmered like a flash of lightning, momentarily blinding Jed. He instinctively shielded his eyes, but the sudden disorientation overwhelmed him, and he collapsed onto the cobblestone ground, unconscious.
The mimes and the woman looked around and then pulled out what appeared to be a circus tent, its fabric matching the woman’s celestial bandana, enveloping them all—including Jed—and disappeared.
Unbeknownst to them, Judea had been watching from a discreet angle behind the window, observing the entire scene with the widest, iciest yet most curious eyes.
Lessons for Jed
“What the… where the… am I?” Jed screamed. He panted as his eyes bolted open—and as soon as he awoke, he felt a woman’s soft hands, which had been holding his clammy one, drop beside him.
As Jed continued screaming, the sense of movement underneath him came to a creaky halt.
He felt the moisture of a wet towel atop the sweat on his forehead, thus, he stripped off the towel, tossing it aside.
“What the…?” Jed yelled, his eyesight slowly blurring into clarity.
“I know—we have a lot to explain—but I promize, we’re here to help…” the woman said in a sing-song voice with her rolling r’s. She patted his shoulder as she became clearer in his view.
“WHO ARE YOU?” Jed shouted, the volume of his voice echoing off the wagon walls. If she hadn’t been a woman, he would have struck her straight in the mouth.
Jed’s eyes were bloodshot and wide. He glanced around and realized he was in a cozy, brightly-colored wagon, complete with a stovetop and chimney. Despite its tiny size, it was the most whimsical space he’d ever seen. And to Jed, anything involving whimsy and magic was just plain bad.
He had been lying atop a wooden bed, next to a spinning wheel in the center of the wagon. The woman had been drawing golden thread from it to stitch the quilt that lay neatly on her lap. Beneath her feet was a basket filled with bits and bobs of felt and buttons, used to add to her quilt.
“I know… I know we didn’t get off on ze best footing— but we mean no harm. here, dreenk this…” she said, pouring him a shimmering cup of tea from a cobalt blue teapot with white markings into a matching bowl-shaped cup. “It’ll help calm you….” She extended the cup towards him.
“You think I’m going to drink anything you give me?!”
She set the tea beside him on the table. “Look, I’m an Inter-Routes agent–as the Caretaker ArchetypeFs,” she said, pulling out her badge to show him. Jed flinched, recalling the moment he’d seen the badge and lost consciousness. Noticing his fright, she quickly stowed it away. “You can call me Maria. Ze two mimes are my friends. We’re here to help you find your own friend…We’re part of a troop called the Celestial Circus” she said ‘celestial circus’ with a whisper and quickly bounced on her feet, waving her hand in the air..then curtsied as she flounced the edge of her skirt…
Jed bolted upright. “How do you know about Lon?! And Inter what?!”
“As an Inter-Routes agent, it’z in our nature to know thingz. You wanted to find a circus, so instead of going to the circus, the circuz came just for you. How do you like dat for a show?”
“How did you know… just how?” Jed shook his head in disbelief.
“Well, there was no other way to convince you. I am a performer, after all…” She crossed one leg over the other and swayed her skirt as she sat back down on her rocking chair.
“You’re frauds… the lot of you! All of you!” Jed collapsed back onto his pillow, his finger outstretched accusingly. “That devil Judea was right! You’re probably part of the same scheme! Where’s Lon?!”
“I know ze state of your finances, Jed. You’re almost as worse off as it would be dumb to rob you. Lon isn’t here. We’re here to help you find him. If you drink ze elixir, you’ll find it soothing for your nerves… so don’t wait for it to get cold…dreenk..”
She took his hand, attempting to place the cup into his grasp. He tried to pull away. “Let go of me!!” he screamed. “Ya frisky lady… I’m married!” She complied, pulling her hand back, and the hot tea spilled on Jed.
“OWW!!” He screamed, jumping to his feet.
“Servez you right,” she said calmly, though irritation blended with pity shone in her eyes.
Grumbling and cursing, Jed had a chance to examine the wagon further. Ignoring his dripping shirt and the burning sting on his chest, he rummaged through his pockets to ensure these “gypsy vagrants” hadn’t stolen anything. Relieved they hadn’t, he continued.
“How was the wagon even moving earlier? I thought the wheel was broken?” He paced the wagon, inspecting each corner as he moved toward the door.
Jed rushed out out of the opening, only to find there had been no animal to drive! Instead, the two mimes were sitting on the roof, one dangling his legs over the edge, eating sunflower seeds, while the other lay on the roof, pretending to snore soundlessly.
“Wait, you… ” He looked from one painted face to the other. “And you! Where the heck am I?!”
A million questions raced through Jed’s mind—a stark contrast to his usual nature, which preferred simplicity.
“Do you talk?” he waved at the mime smiling down at him. “Yoo-hoo!” All the mime did was smile and wave back, his crimson-painted lips stretching across his eerie white face with shells he bit falling to the ground. Jed shuddered and turned away.
“They’re not from here, so they don’t…” Maria said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot behind him, clear annoyance at Jed’s earlier jab at her honor.
“I can see they’re not. Where are y’all from, though?” Jed was back in the wagon, his shirt still soaked and chest burning from the tea, with his head in a frenzy.
“We’ll get to that, Jed… but first I need to read your palm to be able to drive. Before you misread and insulted me badly…and I have a special balm for burns”
Jed didn’t apologize, though he felt a tinge of shame for hurting a woman’s honor. “What does my palm have to do with it?! And I’ll skip taking your weird remedy!” Though his skin was still burning, and he knew he needed some relief, he just couldn’t trust her.
“Well, we were making good progress until you woke up zcreamin like a baby. I was looking at your palm to stitch this map here. I wazn’t harazzin you—I was transferring what I saw in your palm into designs on my quilt.”
“I still don’t get what you’re saying! Talk normal, if that’s even possible for you!”
She showed him the etchings of her own hand, tracing the lines with her finger. Jed hesitated, keeping his hand away.
“Some say our desztiny is written in our palms,” she said. “But I believe these lines hold lezzons we need to learn. I interpret these lessons and stitch them into my quilt. This quilt doesn’t just guide us; it’s like a map.”
“What in the doggone are you saying?” Jed replied, baffled.
“Well, we’re in a special forest. We can’t navigate with cardinal directions like north or south. Your friend did something extraordinary before he disappeared, allowing us to enter this forest and travel across time. Each lesson from your palm, like the ones on mine, weaves together with the path your friend left behind. This quilt is leading us to him. You’ll have to trust me.”
“Uhh… okay, weird lady. If you say so…” Jed muttered, still staring at his palms. “I don’t see anything—just dashed broken lines.”
“It’s considered a gift to read hands. But know the etchings in your palm show lezzons you need to learn to find your friend. You might not read your hands, but you can see this quilt. It’s our map through the woods. I draw thread from this wheel to keep stitching,” she explained, spinning the wheel. She continued,
“Every thread I pull from the wheel adds to the quilt, which keeps us moving forward. We’re guided by the lezzons, not just directions like east or west.”
“See… looks like there is a strong theme of friendship in this patchwork… hmm, hmm… interesting…” She traced a symbol with her finger.
“This is the symbol from when you came to California…”
Jed squinted, recalling the significant moments in his life.
“And this schoolhouse when you were children…” she continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
The quilt was indeed colorful, with swirls and stitches that resembled routes, depicting all the times he and Lon had parted ways and then reconvened.
Jed’s eyes began to water as memories flooded back. Lon felt even closer to him than his own brother.
“So, this tapestry you’re making is allowing us to find Lon… did he tell you about our past? Did ya hold a gun to his head? Are you hiding him in here somewhere? LON! LON!” Jed was pacing the wagon, searching for hidden trap doors in case they had stuffed him somewhere and tied up his mouth—but to no avail.
“No… it’s all in your hands dat I read this…” Maria calmly said, still sitting, letting Jed search.
“So, in a nutshell, Lon and I are connected, and I gotta learn something? But I hate learning!” Jed said, closing the flap of a velvet curtain.
“Dat’s right—your story and Lon’s are stitched together this way—and these patterns you see here are tied to the lessons you must learn along the way to find each other and reconnect. Now… lend me your hand. I need to stich one final thing before we discover where we are supposed to go…”
Jed didn’t understand a gosh-darn thing but returned to Maria and merely handed her his hand. And to his delight, his shirt was slowly drying.
“Okay… since you seem to know things… an’ if ya ain’t scheming me…” Jed raised an eyebrow as he paused. “Are you gonna help me find the midget?”
Maria smirked. “I’m afraid dere’s a bit of time till you do… but you can see him here…”Sure enough, in the patchwork was a short, eerie-looking man with green beads for eyes and a white stitches that resembled a gloating smile.
Jed’s eyes continued to water. “Dang midget!!” He strained his eyes to get a closer look, then wiped his tears.
“Look… I don’t trust you… I don’t know who you are… ya’ll came out of nowhere and brought me here… and you still haven’t answered where ya’ll are from?”
“Because you won’t be able to handle it.”
“Try me! I dare you!” His eyes were still a bit misty, but he was gathering more bravado.
“Alright…” she paused. “I really am from an egg—and they’re from the skies… are you happy?”
“Lady! I was asking where you’re really from… just don’t try my patience… ya hear?”
“Alright…” she said, her voice steady. “I really am from an egg… and let me not scramble your mind further…”
“That’s not funny.” Jed crossed his arms, looking hostile, eyeing Maria and his surroundings again suspiciously. An awkward silence hung in the air.
She smiled; this chickadee was off her rocker… they all were. The two mimes continued riding on top of the caravan, doing God knows what. As he thought this, one of the mimes slid down the chimney like Santa Claus, hanging upside down. His pale, painted white face was now darkened from soot, but the mime was smiling widely and waving at Jed. Jed turned his head, acting as if he didn’t notice but was shuddering from terror inside.
Maria seemed to sense Jed’s fear, her expression softening.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in, and everything I say soundz strange,” she continued stitching, maintaining one eye on his palm.
“If it helps… and I know this will frighten you… but I’m not entirely human… yet I will not harm you.” She underscored this, “None of us will—your friend, Lon, knowz my nature. I am what they call an archetype, but there’s no need to go further than that for now…”
Jed gulped. “An archa-what? Are you a demon?”
“No—more like a spirit that takes on different forms. Like why do you think I’ve come as a Roma—or what they call a gypsy?”
“Cause you’re a liar… and a thief… and a…”
Maria interjected before Jed could continue further. “Those are all negative stereotypes. Ze more positive traits include free-spiritedness, the gift of seeing, and coming from a great lineage of performers. So, as an archetype, I represent ze spirit of something, and I’ve come in the form of a gypsy to embody dose positive traits.”
“You sound just like Lon… ya’ll are crazy,” Jed shook his head in disappointment. “The whole lot of you… and I don’t know why you brought me here.” Regret crept into his voice. “I just wish you’d take me back to my wife…”
“We’re not hiding Lon… and Lorraine is fine…”
“What is it that you don’t know?!? How do you know?! I bet ya didn’t see that in the hands!”
“I have other ways… but a faster way of getting the answers you seek might be by asking yourself why it is that I’ve come to you as a caretaker…” She pulled her badge again to show Jed, but stowed it away again when he flinched and shut his eyes tight.
“Will you stop showing me that thing? You’ll blind me with it and take me somewhere else… and how the… should I know where you’re taking me…”
“I promise… where I’m trying to take you… is just around the corner.” She gestured to the quilt. “Look at deese beautiful designs. I was able to stitch them after you showed me your palm. Look at dis clock I was making…” Surely, on the quilt was what looked like a big, grand, grandfather clock. it looks like your lesson might be related to time.”
“I don’t got time!”
“Patience. Dis is what this journey is all about… and it looks like you’re at your first stop…”
A Leap into the Unknown
The wagon came to an instant stop. Jed’s head roved curiously like an owl’s—and then the mimes appeared. The wispy one pounced out of the chimney, while the stodgy one rolled off the roof with a loud thump and shot straight in through the door.
Both were coming for Jed. Before he could run, the two linked their arms underneath his like executioners carrying a man to his death. These two freaks are stronger than they look! Jed thought. It was the stuff of nightmares.
“Hey, hey, take it easy! Let me go!” Jed hollered, kicking his feet in the air as the two mimes locked their arms with his and marched straight to the wagon’s door—and then directly out into the woods, with Jed continuing to protest rather helplessly.
Maria appeared to be carrying a burlap bag and a cup of tea right behind them as they all exited the wagon.
As Jed’s feet dangled amid his screams, he found himself engaging in an involuntary jig while the two mimes merrily skipped toward a tree.
They were going so fast that Jed was sure they’d crash! Meanwhile, Maria shouted behind them, “Pay attention to these golden stitches on the ground!”
How Jed managed to notice those stitches was a shock, as this was the fastest his legs and the two men had ever carried him.
Once they reached the tree, the mimes finally released Jed from their terrifying grip and attempted to roll him in the air in a failed somersault, causing him to collapse at the base of the tree.
A surge of fear rushed through him, and the entire forest within his line of vision spun. He noticed the mimes looking concerned as they blurred out of view, but he felt the sensation of them patting him on the shoulder, sensing their regret at being unaware of the effects of their bewildering merriment on Jed.
Maria leapt to the ground, pushing her way through the mimes, and placed the cobalt-blue teacup to Jed’s mouth. “Now really, drink dis…it will make you feel better…” she said, cupping Jed’s chin and ensuring he took gentle sips of the hot tea, making sure he wouldn’t burn himself this time.
Jed had no choice but to sip—yet he was regaining consciousness as he slowly began to notice the warmth and aromatic taste of the beverage, which brought him back to his senses, granting him a sense of clarity and calm he had strangely never felt before.
“This sure makes me feel much better—and exceeds any alcohol I’ve ever had! Weeeeeeee,” he exclaimed, only to return to a strange sense of zen and shame for affirming something given to him by the gypsies.
“Good, you’re going to need it,” Maria said. “Now, prezz your hand against dis tree—and take this too.” She handed him a sack. “It’s some food so you don’t get hungry when you go on your quest.”
“You’re gonna leave me?!” Jed shouted, afraid this was all a ruse. He felt sure that if he wasn’t careful, they would blindfold and assault him. Still, he didn’t want to be left alone, either.
“Well, we’ll be back when you’re finished learning dis lesson—but you have a few to learn—among dem, self-sufficiency.”
It was like going to school all over again! Jed felt like a kid being dropped off by a parent at school.
Before he could protest further, Maria took Jed’s hand and pressed it onto the tree. “Now, keep your hand here, and when you see more golden stitches appear on the soil on the other side of the tree, just follow that path.”
As Jed was about to speak, Maria thought, “Poor Jed, I can’t even tell him about the island…but he’ll learn.” Just as Jed opened his mouth to ask, “Why do I have to press a tree?” Maria whipped the bandana off her head, twirling it in the air—and transformed into a crow!
Jed’s eyes widened even further as he stood frozen in his tracks. Maria, now a crow, pecked at the trunk of the tree and then flew high into the night, disappearing into the inky, starry sky.
Jed couldn’t mutter a single word—but he was now left with the mimes. All the fear he had felt before paled in comparison to this moment, but thanks to the tea, he felt more level-headed than he would have otherwise.
The mimes smiled widely at Jed, bowing toward him. As they straightened up, they pointed to the tree. Jed was tongue-tied—until he saw the mimes floating up toward the sky like balloons, the hems of their pants flaring up like soaring parachutes.
Jed blushed, hoping he wouldn’t see their shimmies, and then found his voice to shout, “Come back, ya freaks! Where are you going?!” up toward the heavens.
They too disappeared into the inky sky but shone like the brightest, most colorful stars as they rose higher and higher.
Left alone in the dead of night in the forest, Jed had no choice but to press that tree—and press he did—tightly—hoping it might be an exit out of this crazy nightmare that had inevitably become his reality.
Upon pressing the tree, the memory of such wild moments was represented by a forgotten cup at the base of the tree that flew upward like a flying saucer to join Maria on the island—while the sack of food was taken by Jed into the great unknown.
Should Jed Take the Chance?
Jed couldn’t believe the sight before him yet again. A black briefcase had materialized out of thin air at the base of the tree, adorned with an Inter-Routes logo and a sign that read, “Just open.”
A trail of golden stitches gleamed on the ground on the other side of the tree, while the mushrooms around it glowed with mysterious luminescent colors—neon green, neon blue, and purple.
Jed regarded the briefcase suspiciously and bent down, surprised at how clear his mind remained despite all this “out-of-this-world bizness” . He snapped open the buckles of the briefcase, only to find it empty except for a small card standing at the very center.
The card gleamed brightly and was gold, much like the golden stitches. As Jed squinted his eyes, he read the black font: “Inter-Routes Border Temporary Visa—Restricted Access to Specified Areas.” His name, Jed Ernst Young, along with a darrageutype of him looking very mad, was printed on the right side, accompanied by a series of ID numbers.
“Who took my picture, and when? What visa is this?” Jed wondered, admitting to himself that curiosity was getting the best of him.
An impulse urged him to follow the golden stitches, recalling what Maria had told him. He took the slightest steps past the tree, with the briefcase and sack in tow and the visa tucked into his pocket.
As Jed inched carefully forward, he spotted a bizarre door—one that wasn’t connected to any dwelling or structure. It was a gray, metal, industrial-looking door that seemed out of place in Jed’s time-period of 1849, as if it had traveled through time from a distant future.
A plaque on it read, “AUTHORIZED: Restricted Access Only.”
“Does that mean I have access?” Jed thought, pulling out the visa to regard it questioningly, his critical thinking skills now at their peak.
A wave of terror washed over him, yet driven by a mix of fear and curiosity, Jed slowly raised his hand to knock. As the door creaked open, he instinctively dropped the sack and briefcase from his hands. The sight beyond was even more astonishing than anything he had encountered before, surpassing all the maddening, fantastical events that had led him to this moment.
The Unknown
ed didn’t know what digital screens were; his only context for a screen involved wire window screens with cheesecloths to keep bugs out. Therefore, the sight before him was nothing short of mesmerizing—a whirlwind of continuously flashing images and weird sounds. He was surrounded by futuristic technology that he didn’t even realize was technology.
Everywhere he looked, something new caught his attention, but the question that kept escaping his lips was, “Where am I? Where am I?” So shocked was he that he failed to notice he had no ground beneath him—and that he was floating somewhere in the abyss! This lack of awareness proved surprisingly beneficial; thanks to the tea, he had some composure and clung to a comforting line of thinking he had embraced throughout his life: “Out of sight, out of mind.”
Distracted by the screens, he had no inclination to look down at the empty space below. Jed planned to turn around and escape through the door he had entered. The woods, at least, had been a familiar sight and seemed less threatening compared to this strange new realm. Just as he was about to make his way back, another peculiarity emerged. There he was, face-to-face, eye-to-eye with a creature unlike anything he had ever seen.
To someone from the future, it would clearly be identified as a robot, but to Jed, it was the strangest being he had ever encountered—outdoing even the mimes in terms of oddity. The way she spoke sent chills down his spine. She was enunciating one word at a time. “Welcome, Jed. I have been waiting for you. You and I are more alike than unalike. Are you ready to find Lon?” the Robot-Sounding Lady asked, pointing to a monitor by the door that read, “Main Circuit.”