Uma leans against a lamppost on the corner of 3rd and Kinsley. She scratches her jaw just below her right ear, rolls her shoulder a couple times before folding her arms again. The Sun’s getting to that position in the sky – it’s about closing time.
She sighs, and it
turns into a yawn.
She stares lazily
out at the pedestrians and motorists passing by. So many people. So many places to be. So busy, busy, busy. She drums her fingers
on the biceps of her left arm. Scuffs at
the sidewalk with the thick treads of her dusty trail-running shoes.
Then she smells
something else on the air, under all the exhaust and sweat and sun-baked
pavement. Breathes deeper. That’s
him, no doubt about it. She looks
down toward the Old Trails Museum, sees Elias climbing into his red
pickup. He starts it up, adding his own
note to the stinking symphony of the downtown atmosphere.
Uma unfolds her
arms, hooks her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. Elias spots her as he pulls up to the corner,
turns the steering wheel a little more to his right, and rolls down the
passenger window.
“Well, aren’t you
a fine sight to see,” he says. “Hop on
in.” She cocks an eyebrow at him.
“Flattery will get
you nowhere,” but she climbs in anyway.
“Turn left. Unless you’ve got
someplace better to be.” She shuts her
door and buckles her seatbelt.
“Not anymore,” he
says with a grin, and hits his blinker before turning onto 3rd
Street.
“Yeah, sure.” He flips the switch, and they roll down their
windows. “So where are we headed?”
“You’ll see. Just head West outta town and take the Two
Guns exit.”
“Right on. Another nature hike?” He smiles expectantly.
“Something like
that. You’ll see,” she repeats,
returning his smile.
They chat about
the day as they drive through town. As
they leave the Winslow city limits, Uma bites at her thumbnail and stares out
the window.
“You look
nervous,” Elias says. “Should I be
worried?”
“No, no,” she
shakes her head, “I just – I don’t do the ‘car’ thing very often.”
“Really? How do you get around?”
“Bike,
sometimes. Running or walking, mostly.”
“Right on. But you seriously don’t have a car?”
“Sure don’t.”
“Huh.” They drive in silence for a few moments. “You know,” Elias finally says, “On the
highway, it’s actually better for conserving gas to drive with the windows up
and the AC on. Wind resistance is way
higher with ‘em down.”
“Oh. Well, what about the Freon, though?”
“Well, sure, but
it gets used over and over. And at that
point, really, we’re burning gas anyway, so…” he trails off.
“No, it’s fine,”
she says. “I just hate the smell of it,
is the thing.”
“Ah, I see. Well, hey, twenty miles with the windows down
won’t kill the planet, I guess.” He
shrugs, and they drive on.
After a few
minutes, he breaks the silence again.
“Penny for your thoughts?” She
runs a hand through her short brown hair.
“Just thinking
about the ‘car’ thing. Trading Freon for
gas, gas for Freon, and all you’re doing is trying to minimize impact. Or maximize mileage, I suppose. But there’s no way we could all just ride
bikes, that’d be crazy.” Elias shrugs.
“I mean, sure, I guess some people need their cars. You use your truck to haul gear, it’s for
your job, it makes sense. Fine. I just - ” she exhales sharply, shrugs her
shoulders and shakes her head.
“No, I get it,” he
says. “It’s frustrating. The things we do for convenience, at the
expense of the long term.” He nods his
head, shrugs his shoulders. “And it’s
like, even if I go and live totally green, there’s still seven billion other
people. Not like I’m seven billion and one, no, one doesn’t even make a bit
of difference.” Now it’s his turn to
sigh in exasperation.
“Yeah,” she
says. “And even then, if we get everybody
on the green bandwagon, all it takes is one
little community to decide they’re gonna do the industrialization thing
again. And whenever there’s a conflict,
they’ll just steamroll the other side.”
“It’s like we’d
need a whole worldwide green conspiracy just to keep from offing ourselves.”
They drive in
silence for some moments more.
“It’s not all bad,
though,” Elias says. Uma tilts her head
at him. “I mean, there are ways to ‘do
technology’ in a green way. Like there’s
this one soccer ball that you can kick around, and it has a little thing inside
that generates electricity. I read about
it on the internet at work, some college girls made it so that kids in Third
World countries could study after dark without burning kerosene, which it turns
out is terrible for everyone.”
“Huh.” Uma raises her eyebrows. “That’s actually pretty cool.”
“So we can have
green technology - ”
“ - We just have
to actually do it right.”
“Yeah. But that’s hard,” he says in a mock whine.
“Heh,” she
snorts. “Cry some more, why don’cha?”
They banter for
the rest of the drive, until Elias turns onto the Two Guns exit ramp. Uma then directs him to an old road that briefly
tracks the highway before turning into a dusty trail that rambles off to the
North. After about three miles, they
enter a small ghost town that runs up to railroad tracks.
“Park anywhere,”
she says. He pulls off to the right
where a small two-door is parked, just before the buildings. They roll up the windows and get out of the
car. “Welcome to Canyon Diablo,
Arizona,” she says, gesturing around with wide-open arms. Elias puts his hands in the pockets of his
cargo shorts and steps up beside Uma as she walks up the middle of the
road. “Home to fourteen saloons, ten
gambling houses, four brothels, and two dance halls, all located for your
convenience along the main drag, Hell Street.”
“Place looks like
it’s seen better days,” Elias says, looking around at the old buildings.
“It’s had its ups
and downs,” she says with a shrug. “Only
one guy was buried in the graveyard who didn’t die a violent death, so in a
way, it’s quite a bit better off now that everyone’s gone.”
“Yikes.” He looks around and takes in the quiet as
they stroll down the street.
“Well,” Uma says
after the moment passes, “Come on down to the old saloon. Some people I’d like you to meet.” She smiles broadly at him. He cocks an eyebrow at her and smiles
quizzically.
Uma gingerly opens
the swinging doors and holds one open for Elias. He steps in and sees a sight out of
time: an old-fashioned saloon, absurdly
well-preserved, every surface covered in thick dust. At a table in the center of the room, two men
are playing chess. The man on the white
side of the board is a big, black body-builder type, with tied-back dreadlocks
and a full beard. The man on the black
side of the board is a white guy with an athletic build, almost wiry next to
his opponent, with wild blond hair and a scraggly beard of his own. Uma walks right up and stares down at the
board. Elias hangs back a couple paces.
The black man
strokes his beard and moves a piece, then nods to his opponent, who swiftly
slides a bishop and announces, “Check.”
The black man strokes his beard again, narrows his eyes.
“All right,” he
says. “Let’s leave it for now.” The white man nods, and they turn to face Uma
and Elias at last. The black man stares
at Elias for a long moment, looking him up and down. “So,” he says at last. He slides his chair back and stands up, and
Uma steps back as he walks towards Elias.
“I’m Carter.” He sticks out his
hand.
“Elias,” he
replies. They shake firmly. “Good to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Carter
says. “This here’s Willy.” Willy stands, shakes with Elias.
“Willy,” Elias
says.
“Elias,” Willy
replies.
“What’d she tell
you,” Carter asks, after the handshaking’s all done.
“Just that I was
gonna meet some of her friends. I guess
that’d be you two?”
“Yup,” Carter says
with a nod, “And two more. Come on back.”
Carter leads the
three of them behind the bar to a storeroom.
A man with a thin beard lays on a cot, a large cloth bandage taped down
to his chest. His black hair is
partially slicked back, but messy and oily, as though he hasn’t had a
shower. Elias sniffs the air, and yeah,
maybe he hasn’t. At his side is an older
man seated in a chair, his long black hair in a ponytail, his long black beard
streaked with white. “This here’s Tajo,
and that’s Rufio on the cot.” Tajo nods
at the mention of his name, Rufio opens his eyes and raises his hand in a
little wave.
“Whoah,” Elias
asks, “What happened to this guy?”
“I’m right here,
man,” Rufio says.
“I – sorry. What happened to you?”
“Same thing
that’ll happen to you, if you’re not careful,” he replies.
“The fuck is that
supposed to mean?” Elias backs toward
the door, looking warily at the other five.
Uma places a hand on his arm – he pulls away, she lets him go.
“Elias, it’s not a
threat,” she says. He stands in the
doorway. Carter sighs.
“Rufio, you gotta
watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
“Son of a bitch
talks about me like I’m not in the room, and I gotta watch my
mouth? The Hell is that?”
“Shut up,” Carter
says. “Let’s all have a seat, huh?” Uma and Willy sit down, folding their legs.
“I think I’ll stay
standing. You keep talking,” Elias says.
“Suit yourself,”
Carter says with a shrug. “It’s like
this. We’re sort of a wilderness
club. The wilderness is dangerous. Rufio here got cocky, and now he’s paying the
price. That’s all he meant by it.”
“All right, fine,”
Elias says. “And how do I figure into
all of this?”
“Rufio’s dying,
man. So we got a slot open. We looked at a few people. You’re the only one who made the cut.”
“And how’s that?”
“Well,” Carter
says, “It’s complicated. A lot goes into
it. You know how sometimes when you were
hanging out with Uma, you felt like you were being watched?” Elias narrows his eyes. Carter sighs.
“Look, this is hard to explain.
Harder to believe.”
“You worry about
explaining,” Elias says, “Leave the believing to me.”
“Maybe I should
just take him Inside,” Uma says. “That
could make it all clearer.” Carter
shrugs.
“If you think he’s
ready for it, sure.”
“Elias, come on
outside with me,” she says. “Oh, and you
two, sit back down to your chess game.
But don’t start again until we’re with you, OK?”
“Sure,” Carter
says.
Uma leads Elias
back out the front of the saloon; Carter and Willy follow behind them, and sit
back down at their table. Out in the
street, Uma turns to Elias and takes his hands.
“What the Hell is
going on,” he asks her.
“Some crazy shit,
OK? I just need you to trust me for like
fifteen minutes, and I promise you won’t get hurt at all. Is that all right?”
“What’s gonna
happen?”
“I could try to
tell you, or I could just show you,” she answers. “Right here, right now.”
“All right,” he
says, after thinking it over for a moment.
“Show me.”
“Close your
eyes.” She raises his hands in
hers. “And no matter what happens, don’t
let go.”
Elias closes his
eyes. He hears Uma’s breathing become
deep and rhythmic. He feels her pulse
through her hands, becomes acutely aware of the blood thrilling through his own
veins. After a few moments, his
heartbeat synchronizes with hers. He
starts, but does not let go, does not open his eyes. There is a shift in the air, something
undeniably different but hard to pin down.
He concentrates for a moment: It’s like – the Sun doesn’t feel “hotter,”
but somehow more intense. Like it’s the
same Sun, but I can feel each little ray.
And the wind – it’s not blowing harder, but I am more aware of it. Like it’s not just passing over me, but
caressing me, wrapping around me and taking its time to make its presence felt. He breathes deep. The sensation is foreign, yet relaxing. He feels a great peace descend upon him, as
though his very soul was plunged into deep tranquility.
“Elias,” Uma asks.
“Yes,” he replies.
“Open your
eyes.” He does so. The world is the same, yet somehow
changed. More vibrant. More beautiful.
“What did you
do? What just happened?”
“I took you Inside,”
she replies.
“Inside what?”
“The world. We’re on the Inside of the world.”
“I don’t
understand,” he says. He certainly feels
the change, but doesn’t understand how it’s an “inside” to anything.
“OK, look. Out there,” she points up with one hand. “What’s that?”
“The sky.” The glorious, shimmering,
glowing-blue-with-scattered-sunlight sky.
“And what happens
when you go through the sky?”
“You go into
space.”
“Right,” she
says. “Outer space. And things are
different there, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“How so?”
“Well,” Elias
says, pausing to think. “Lots of things
are different. There’s no gravity. There’s no atmosphere. There’s no magnetic field.”
“Right! And when you come back in through the sky, then everything works all differently, doesn’t
it? You don’t have to worry so much
about radiation shielding, but you have to worry more about gravity and air
pressure and magnetic fields and such.”
“OK, I’m with you
so far.”
“Good. So now, we’re even further inward, where things are even more different. Like being
inside your own head: you only see the
Outside of other people, but your whole life
is being Inside yourself. And those are
two very different things. Yeah?”
“Sure,” he says
with a nod. She takes his free hand once
more.
“All right. So Inside someone’s head, there’s meaning and
experience. But from the Outside, all
you have are the descriptions and behavior.
And for all your life, you’ve only been Inside yourself, looking at the
Outside of the world.” He nods at her. “I just brought you Inside the world.” He looks around. Everything
looks more vibrant, more beautiful, more connected. He looks at Uma.
“But you still
look normal.” He looks down at his hands.
“So do I, for that matter.”
“That’s because
our Outsides are here, not just our Insides.”
“So you’re telling
me that you just physically transported us to another plane of existence?”
“Well,” she
stammers, “Not exactly. But yeah, that’s
close enough.”
“That sounds like
magic,” he says with narrowed eyes.
“So’s going to space,”
she says with a shrug. “Just ask any
caveman.”
Elias mulls this
over for a bit. Everything seems to take
on a shimmer as he considers the implications of what sounds impossible, but is
plain before his eyes.
“Aww,” Uma coos, “Look
at that! You’re spawning a spirit of
epiphany!”
“What?” Elias shakes his head, the shimmer fades in
and out.
“No, hold
still! Whatever you were just thinking,
hold onto it!”
OK, he thinks, I’m on another plane of existence.
It’s crazy, but here it is.
So: now what? There’s magic? No, not magic, this is just how things are. I simply didn’t know it before. Like a caveman contemplating going to the
stars. Except here I am, a modern man,
experiencing something that must be so basic – yes. An Inside to everything? So – what was it called – pan-psychism? Wow.
There’s a “what it’s like” to be everything! That’s crazy!
The shimmer grows
stronger, everything seems to sparkle, then it lifts from his eyes. Looking up, he can see the shimmer in the
air, a big bubble-looking thing about the size of a beach ball.
“There it is,” Uma
says, “Your epiphany!”
“All right, and
what on Earth does that mean?”
“OK, so we’re in
the realm of meaning here, Inside. We
also call it the Spirit Wild, because spirits are more apparent here. And there are spirits of everything – well, not ‘everything’ everything, but almost everything. Everything meaningful.”
“What makes
something meaningful or not,” he asks.
“Well, it’s not a
hard line, it really depends on how much it means to who’s around. You’ll figure it out, with time. But the more meaningful it is to someone, the
more psychic energy it has, and spirits run on that psychic energy. Usually, it’s just enough for a spirit to
have its material component – a rock spirit just
is the spiritual Inside of a physical rock.
But with your epiphany here, the more your mind is blown, the bigger it
will get.” And sure enough, as Elias
looks up, the sparkling shimmer grows ever larger.
“Whoah!”
“But just like a
rock spirit will wear away as the rock itself wears away,” she continues, “So
your epiphany will fade as your mind returns to normal.”
“So – it’s going
to die?”
“Not so much
‘die,’ as ‘fade.’ You see, spirits of
things are all kind of the same. You,
Elias, are a singular individual, so there’s only one spirit of you.
That’s your spirit, you are it.
Yet at the same time, you also share in the human spirit, and you as a
life-form are also part of the life spirit.”
As Elias thinks it
over, Uma watches the epiphany over his head shimmer and swell. Everything
is connected, he muses, By the things
they have in common. “So we’re only
separated by our differences?”
“Yeah, in a
way. Sort of.” She pauses.
“How many space documentaries have you watched?”
“Quite a few,” he
says. “Space is amazing.”
“OK, so you know
how gravity pulls everything together?”
“Well, everything
that has mass, anyway.”
“Precisely,” she
says. “But the Universe is flying apart,
too, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, because of
dark energy.”
“Now think about
that,” she says. “Dark energy? Working as anti-gravity? More powerful than one of the fundamental
forces?” She tilts her head. “Does that make any sense?”
“Maybe,” he says,
drawing out the syllables, “If the differences between things are driving them
apart faster than their commonalities can pull them together.” He stares off into the distance. The epiphany swells ever larger, taking up
the whole width of Hell Street above their heads. “And if commonalities pull things together,
then maybe closeness in space is the commonality that makes gravity work?”
“Maybe,” she
says. “I mean, I don’t know. I’m not a physicist. But they talk about dimples in spacetime
being gravity fields that pull things together.
I’m really not sure what else to make of that. What do you think?”
“I think,” he
says, and trails off. “I think I feel a
little high right now.”
“Ha ha, don’t
worry, that’s normal. Here, come on
inside.” She lets go with one hand, and
they walk side-by-side back into the saloon.
As Uma walks
through the saloon doors, they don’t so much swing as blur. Eli feels a slight resistance as he passes through
the pair of blurs, not as if he is moving them, but as if he is passing through
a thickness of the air. Almost like
walking through waist-deep water. He
looks back at the doors, but Uma keeps pulling at his hand, and he looks at the
table where –
Carter and Willy
are utterly transformed. Carter is
radiant, seeming to glow with an unearthly light; beastly, with shocks of
coarse fur all over him, a calm and appraising countenance upon his face. Willy, by stark contrast, seems to be in
shadow; he, too, is beastly and covered in fur, golden but dulled by his
shadowy aura, grinning with deadly intent.
Uma walks up to Carter and whispers in his ear,
“All right, we’re
back. Game on.”
“They’re back,” Carter says with a resounding echo. “Game on.”
I’m in trouble, Elias seems to
hear beneath his words.
“Your move,” Willy
says. You’re dead echoes from beneath his voice.
Elias looks at the
chessboard. The pieces all seem to have
a faint blur along their lines of movement.
The knights appear to occupy all the squares at once, their shadows
strongest at one move out and fading from there. It’s hard for him to look at, and he blinks a
few times.
“So you see the
board,” Uma asks.
“Yeah,” Elias
replies. “It’s hard to see, but it’s –
it’s like a second sight. I mean, I know
how Chess is played, but it’s like I can see all the moves on the board at
once.”
“Crazy, huh?” He nods back in answer.
Carter moves a
pawn up to block the threatening bishop.
Willy moves his queen into a more threatening position. Carter moves his king out of the bishop’s
path, but his aura seems to tremble and fade a little. Willy moves a knight.
“Checkmate,” I win.
“Good game,” Little bitch.
Carter tips his
king over, and its spirit shadow seems to fade. It’s still there,
just… Dead, Elias thinks.
“You ready to go
back,” Uma asks.
“Yeah.”
“All right. Close your eyes.” He does so, and the vibrance fades from the
world, leaving the dullness of the mundane in its wake. He takes a deep breath, opens his eyes.
“Welcome back,”
Carter says. “You have a nice trip?”
“Trip is right,”
Elias replies.
“So it’s like
this,” Carter says, turning in his chair to look at him. “We want you in our little club.”
“And if I say no?”
“Well, you can.”
Carter tips his palms upward, shrugs as he tilts his head. “But we know you don’t want to.”
Elias thinks for a
moment. He’s eager for more, yet
resentful that they’ve got him pegged so well.
He feels pigeonholed, boxed-in, as though he’s – in checkmate. Like there’s only one thing to do. Tip over his king, and say,
“You win.”
Carter nods with a
big smile. “I knew you’d come around,
buddy.”
“Hey,” Elias
says. When Uma and I were Inside, you
guys looked different. Beastly.” Willy casts a sidelong glance. Carter nods slowly and says,
“We all got a
beast inside. Go ask Tajo about that, he’ll
set you straight.”
Elias walks back
to the storeroom where Tajo watches over Rufio.
“Hey, Carter told
me to come back here again. He told me
to ask you about the beast within, or something.” Tajo nods, and says,
“Sit.” Elias sits cross-legged on the floor. Tajo strokes his beard, purses his lips. “Your body is many, even while it is
one. It is you, whole and complete, but
it is also your hands, your feet, your fingers and toes. All the parts are separate, and yet together.
“So, too, is your
spirit: many-in-one. Urges, like beasts, battle to dominate your
will. Like beasts, they know no reason
but their own pure and savage nature, and they seek victory with no regard to
what is right, or what is best.
“Some of them,
like the urge to breed, are solitary creatures.
They will turn on you if you do not tend to them, but they are simple
enough to manage.
“But others travel
together in packs, like rage, and vengeance, and greed. These will lash out at whatever whets their
appetite, harrying their prey until it collapses, only to hunger for more. Or kindness, forgiveness, and generosity,
which will help you if they are healthy and strong, but will wear you out upon
the world if you allow them to grow fat and lazy.
“These beasts,
these urges, are as much a part of you as your hands and feet. Cut them off, and you injure yourself. What you must learn to do is bring them into
balance, and then the rest will come with practice. Like learning to run over great
distances: you must have both legs, strong
and swift; your belly must not be too large, but neither must you be starving;
your heart must beat fast enough, but not too fast; and so with the breathing
of your lungs. And even then, it takes
long hours of practice before you will be able to run a marathon.” Elias nods as he thinks on this for some time.
“And how do I
bring these beasts into balance,” he asks at last.
“You must feed
them, each in their own way. You must
find what the beast is hungry for, and give him a little of what he wants.”
“So be kind, and I
feed my kindness.”
“Yes,” Tajo says with
a nod.
“And be angry to
feed my anger.”
“Yes,” he says,
nodding again. “But it is one thing to
be simply angry. It is another thing
entirely to be correctly angry.”
“I’m not sure I
understand,” Elias says.
“You must know the
cause of your anger. You must
acknowledge it, give it its due. But do
not feed the beast only because it is hungry:
that will never end, for as you feed it, its hunger grows. You must only feed it enough to stop it from
turning against you.”
“And what about
kindness?”
“Kindness is different,
but no easier. You must know when to
feed it, but it is hard to know when it will become greedy in its own way, and
consume you. So, too, with
forgiveness: while it is noble to
forgive others their wrongdoings, it will cause you great harm in this
dangerous world to ignore all the damage that others may do to you.”
“I see what you
mean,” Elias says with a nod. “Sort of
like too much of a good thing?”
“Yes,” Tajo
agrees, “You are starting to see.” He
looks out at the setting Sun. “It grows
late, and you have learned much today.”
“You could say
that again,” Elias says.
“Carter will want
to arrange another meeting. Speak with
him. Then sleep, and think on what you
have seen.”
Elias
nods, and stands to leave.
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