aaron_the fall of america_chapter_21

Chapter 21

A clear vision of a memory was stuck in my head. A middle-aged man bent over his cabinet that he had just purchased from the Salvation Army thrift shop. In a meditative simi-consciousness, he heaved until he vomited on the sidewalk. It was too early in the morning for such things.

I woke full of anxiety, expecting to be back in bed on Earth. I wouldn't have been shocked to find it was a hospital bed. I hoped my brother and his girlfriend would bring me flowers and tell me I would be well enough to leave in a couple days. When I found I was still in a space-craft, I considered returning to the hole I had dug when I first arrived. I knew I couldn't go back there, it was no more my home. I had to find a new home.

I wondered about my dreams, trying to excuse them with something I must have eaten.

I decided to leave the door of my craft closed while I had breakfast and worked on my computer. I didn't feel I was capable of communication. I would have had too much trouble with the fabric of reality. It was not a day for holding to a coherent thread of belief.

Although I could not pin point it, I thought I might have had a headache or something like it. A head ache dulls my wits so that I can no longer discern. I can't talk to people then, especially if they seem alien. Learn to discern.

This is like this and this is like that.

In one of my dreams, someone or something, maybe a strange creature, was trying to explain something in terms so clear, that instead of understanding them, I saw through them. Straight into darkness. The creature seemed to want to help me but I could only receive darkness. I had become a tumbling, massless, non-form.

After having completed all needed calculations for my return to Earth, I programmed the computer to go through all the data and calculate the return jump. One report for a straight jump, normal procedure, and the other report on the probability of successful use of their sun as a catapult for faster acceleration.

It appeared to be around noon when I finally emerged from my craft. No one was to be seen. I thought of going to visit with Karna but calculated it was wiser to be alone as long as my condition persisted. I could use the time alone to form an opinion or develop an idea.

I made my way to the river, hoping the water might be a good medium for bringing me to awareness of my environment. It turned out to be very rewarding. I felt perfectly at ease and chewed away the rest of the day laying on the bank, eating berries and potato-peanuts, swimming and sleeping in the mild rays of the sun.

My sleep was finally interrupted by a small creature sucking on my head. It was one of my bug-monster friends. It was the first I had seen since the walls disappeared. I held it in my hand for a long time. It seemed content to stay there gently sucking my sweat. I guessed it was after my salt or dead skin. I became very pleased with it and felt remorse for the few I had killed out of ignorance back in my dark hole.

"Good luck on the quiet planet, little fellow. I'd love to take you home but you are better off here."

I was glad that it didn't respond, placed it gently on a rock and jumped up and down on it until it was completely obliterated.

I shook my head.

"Why did I do that?"

No one answered. I looked back to the rock and saw my monster friend crawling off. I noticed I didn't have my shoes on so decided I must have had a short hallucination.

"I've got to get off this planet before I lose my mind," I explained to the bug.

Again it didn't respond. I put my shoes on and returned to the craft.



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by Joanne B. Washington

© 2001 | the jose wombat project